“Buffy,” Giles began calmly, cautiously trying to intercept her rising tirade. “I understand that I have made mistakes in this situation – we all have, as you said – but it is hardly *my* fault that you completed the ritual incorrectly, or that Willow changed the spell on Spike’s chip, or…”
“It’s your fault that we decided to do it at all!” Buffy exploded – temper at the forefront again. She could not believe that her Watcher still could not face up to his own responsibility for the whole mess that had resulted from his idea. “You were so eager to do *something* to get Spike out of your house, that you let Willow do a spell that she wasn’t prepared for, alone, when you are the only one here with enough experience to have helped her!”
“If she had simply done the spell as it was recorded in the book…” Giles insisted, more than a little defensive.
“It could *still* have gone wrong, because she’s inexperienced and hasn’t got the first clue what she’s dealing with!”
“Hey!” Willow objected, indignantly looking between the two of them. “*Standing* right here!”
“I know,” Buffy declared, eyes flashing a warning fire as she momentarily faced her friend. “That’s why I’m saying all this – because *you* need to hear it, too!”
Just when Giles thought with relief that perhaps she had turned her attention back to Willow – the Slayer turned on him again, and he steeled himself for a fresh assault. “You should have helped her!” Buffy declared. “You should have made sure she knew what she was doing – knew how dangerous it could be and how important it was that she didn’t change anything! But you didn’t – because you couldn’t take the time out of your busy schedule…”
The Watcher frowned, clearly startled by the scathing accusation in her voice. “I only wanted…”
“…to get Spike out of your bathroom,” Buffy finished for him flatly, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest, her eyebrows raised as she waited for him to deny her words – but not for long. “You just couldn’t stand having to keep an eye on him – which, come to think of it, was kind of unnecessary anyway, considering that he couldn’t have hurt us at all…”
“He could have found some way to…”
“Please, Giles. He was half-starved. Couldn’t bite. Couldn’t hit. Couldn’t even defend himself, much less do anything to hurt us. He came to us for *help* -- and even though we treated him pretty much like garbage, we were *still* the only place he had to turn – so why in the world would he have tried to hurt us?” Buffy pointed out, a slightly derisive note to her voice, incredulous that her Watcher had not yet figured out so much.
As it was, the man was speechless, having no answer for her accusations.
“It was selfish,” Buffy stated flatly, a look of regret in her shining green eyes that went beyond her own personal mistakes, to include the actions of the others that she had allowed, and thus silently agreed to. “*I* was selfish, too,” she admitted softly. “I didn’t – didn’t think about – what I was actually doing. Spike annoyed me. I thought it would be fun to have him at my beck and call…”
She didn’t dare look at her mate, and she didn’t know whether to find it encouraging or frightening that she could feel no specific emotions carried to her through their bond as she spoke the painfully honest words.
“I thought it didn’t matter,” she went on, wincing slightly as she added, “I thought he wasn’t a person. But – I was wrong…”
“No, Buffy – you weren’t!” Giles took the opportunity to break in insistently, catching her gaze and holding it with an almost desperation in his own. His Slayer had strayed considerably from the path of what he had taught her, and he *was* desperate, to make her see reason again. “You weren’t wrong – he’s *not* a person, Buffy! He’s a vampire! He…”
“If he’s not a person – if he’s so much more evil than any of us – then how come he was the only one in all of this who even *once* put himself on the line for any of the others? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I can’t remember any of the rest of us doing much that wasn’t centered on exactly what *we* wanted…and Spike…he risked his *life*…”
“But Buffy…” Xander broke in, annoyance clear in his voice, “…and you *said* correct you if you’re wrong…” he reminded her cautiously.
“…and I’m not. So stop talking,” she cut him off shortly, turning her attention back to Giles for a moment – before suddenly aiming a slightly unpleasant smile in her friend’s direction. “I’m getting to you,” she informed him coolly.
Xander felt an involuntary shiver of apprehension go down his spine at those words – and promptly shut up.
“No – I was wrong,” Buffy continued. “And I want to say I have no one to blame for that but myself – except – there *is* someone else to blame,” she informed her Watcher, her eyes narrowing in anger as she declared, “You.”
The older man’s eyes widened in indignant disbelief. “I beg your pardon?” he retorted incredulously.
“You’re the one who told me everything I’ve ever believed about vampires,” she explained. “You’re the one who informed me that there’s nothing human about them – no conscience – no real emotions. *You* told me that.” She paused before adding calmly, “You were wrong.”
“Buffy – it’s been proven time and time again…”
“No, it’s been *assumed* time and again,” Buffy corrected him sharply. “Until Spike came along – and suddenly became the exception to what we thought was the rule! You said vampires are purely selfish, concerned only with their own desires – well, *that* one’s not true, we’ve already covered that. He’s saved Dawn’s life several times during the past few days…”
Counting off on her fingers, the Slayer continued, “You said they can’t feel – that’s not true, either, because a nifty little side effect of this claim? I can *feel* what he’s feeling, and…”
Buffy hesitated momentarily when she heard the soft, startled intake of breath from her mate beside her, felt his alarm at her words – and then went on firmly, deliberately, “…and you have no right to know exactly what that is – but I can tell you that what he’s feeling is every bit as real as anything I’ve ever felt…”
She could feel it even as she spoke…his cautious uncertainty, hoping for her sake that she would be able to come through this encounter with all the relationships that meant so much to her intact – his own insecurity, that slight part of him that still wondered just how far her devotion to him would go – all intermingled with his deep concern for her feelings, his desire to make this whole thing as easy as possible on her…
“You told me they couldn’t love,” she finished, her voice softening with her affection for the vampire beside her, as she instinctively put her arm around his waist and pulled him closer to her. “But I can feel Spike’s love for me – for my family – stronger than anything, Giles. Don’t *even* try to tell me that it’s not real.”
The Watcher *didn’t* try – it was clear that it would be a useless effort.
And after the Slayer’s little speech – he wasn’t even so sure that she was wrong, anymore.
“Buffy – I – I really don’t know what to say…” he finally began, hesitant, a note of doubt now evident in his voice, as he suddenly seemed to find it difficult to meet her eyes. “I have never told you anything – that I have not – wholeheartedly believed to be…”
“I know you weren’t trying to lie to me, Giles,” Buffy went on after a moment, her voice a bit gentler, but still hard as granite in her determination to stick to her guns. “I know you believed every word you told me about vampires – every word the Council taught *you* -- I still trust you that much.”
The relief in the Watcher’s pale blue eyes was clearly visible, as he let out a deep sigh, looking down for a moment before meeting her gaze again.
“But you were wrong. They’re wrong. And I don’t know all the details – all the specifics – about vampires and demons and such – but I know it’s not what the Council says.” A soft, speculative smile came over her lips as she shrugged her shoulders and suggested, “Might be something for you to look into, you know? Considering the fact that neither one of us technically *works* for the Council anymore…”
The sudden look of interest that appeared in her Watcher’s eyes made Buffy’s smile widen slightly, as she added in a thoughtful tone, “Maybe it’s time you stopped just accepting everything they told you – and find out for *yourself* what’s true.”
The Watcher looked away, his expression troubled and pensive, as for once, he stopped trying to think of an argument to persuade her to his point – and actually took a moment to consider hers.
The momentary silence, following the Slayer’s softened tone, gave the others the impression that the storm had passed – that her anger had run its course.
It was a very *false* impression.
“And as for you,” Buffy went on abruptly, her angry eyes blazing again, this time in the direction of her other best friend – the one she had not yet berated.
Xander Harris.
“What did *I* do?” he squeaked, taking an involuntary step back in the direction of his girlfriend. “Buffy – I didn’t do any magic – I was against the whole thing from the start…”
“Only because you thought there was a chance I could lose, and Spike would have control of me!” Buffy pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest and taking another step toward him. “The thought of his being made basically a slave to us all never really bothered you at all! In fact – you were the most eager of all to start the kicking once he was down!”
“But Buffy – this is *Spike* we’re talking about!” Xander protested – realizing the next instant what a mistake it was to attempt to use *that* tired old argument.
The Slayer’s eyes narrowed furiously as she took another step toward him – and he ducked behind Anya with a decidedly unmanly sound that was suspiciously like a whimper.
Much to his surprise, his girlfriend pulled away, moving out from between Xander and Buffy, giving him a dubious look.
“Don’t look at *me* to protect you!” she declared when he gave her a wide-eyed look of shock and betrayal. “You’ve known all along that I never approved of the way you’ve treated Spike – I mean – if it’s okay to take away his free will and make him a slave and do all those things to *him* -- it must be okay to do them to me, too…right, Xander? I’m an ex-demon – he’s a vampire – what’s the difference?”
“Anya – Honey…” Xander shook his head, glancing with a slightly bewildered look between the angry, accusing faces of his girlfriend and his best friend. “No – you’re human now! You’re good! You…”
“Funny,” Anya shrugged with a sad little smile. “I don’t *feel* any different now than I did before I was human! So who’s to say I’m any more ‘good’ than I was then?”
“Honey,” Xander shook his head, his tone impatient and just a touch patronizing, as he tried to move past the confusing – and deeply troubling – question that his girlfriend was raising. “That’s something we can talk about later – like – when Buffy’s *not* ready to kill me?” The slightly warning edge to her voice was clearly intended to remind her that he was in need of her support at the moment – and she was *not* helping.
She didn’t seem to care at the moment.
With a careless sort of shrug, her jaw set in a stubborn line born of months of pent up hurt and resentment, Anya declared easily, “Oh, no, Xander Harris! Don’t count on me to help you talk your way out of this one! You’re the one who’s always telling *me* to shut up! ‘You’re talking too much, Anya – someone might start to think you’re annoying’ – ‘No normal person says things like that, Anya – why don’t you stop being so honest all the time?’”
She was building up steam as she reminded herself of her boyfriend’s many offenses against her all-too-human emotions. She shrugged again, turning away from him as she finished, “You’re the expert in human communication, apparently – why don’t you just dig your own way out of this hole you’ve dug yourself into?”
Xander was absolutely stunned by Anya’s unexpected revolt – she was usually so passive, simply quietly accepting his instruction as to how she should behave, what she should and should not say – but he had no time to consider the ramifications of her sudden shift in attitude, before the Slayer was immediately in his face again.
“Well, Xander?” Buffy smiled at him, but her eyes were angry and accusing, and determined to do all that was in her power to make her best friend face up to his own prejudices – prejudices that had nearly cost Spike his life, and might yet cost Xander his relationship with Anya, if something was not done very soon.
“Maybe you’d better grab a shovel.”
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