She thought she should probably go see Giles, let him know she was back to herself, since if Ethan Rayne had been involved, Giles was probably worried out of his mind. And if Ethan was out of prison and in Sunnydale, she should be doing something about that, too. But she couldn’t, not now, not when she felt like this. She felt as if she’d lost a part of herself, as if something vital had been ripped from her.
Buffy wrapped herself around her pillow and buried her face in it. The scent was all wrong; she cried harder.
Whenever she got past this, she was hurting Ethan, that much she was sure of. To do this to her, to make her into an entirely different person – the sort of person who would think it was love when it was Spike – was something for which he would pay dearly. She had opened up and given everything, and now she had nothing.
She wanted to forget it happened at all. She wanted to erase every bit of it from her mind, and yet she couldn’t – not when the traces still clung so strongly to her. Her body was sore, aching in ways it hadn’t even after her most grueling battles in the past. Bite marks on her neck and inner thigh still tingled, and the memory of how they’d gotten there still made her blood rush.
Buffy closed her eyes tightly and tried to force those images out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about Spike touching her, kissing her, biting her.
It was all wrong – everything was wrong now.
She needed to get up, to face the world, to be the Slayer again, but she couldn’t.
Not now.
Not when she couldn’t stop crying.
Spike knew before he was even fully awake that something was wrong. He was cold…
He realized he hadn’t felt cold in days. Not like this. The warmth he hadn’t felt in more than one hundred years before these past few days was gone again.
He knew what that meant.
Spike didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to get the visible confirmation of what he already knew.
But he had to. He had to let reality come crashing in, no matter how much it made his unbeating heart ache. Spike rolled onto his back, a deep, shuddering sigh sounding from him as he opened his eyes and saw her gone.
She’d left nothing. Her clothes were off the floor, and there was no good-bye.
He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. Big Bads didn’t cry over losing some chit. He’d known this was going to happen. Even when she’d been telling him she loved him, even when she was making him believe it, he knew it wouldn’t last.
The spell would break; they always did. Then he’d be alone; he always was.
He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to hurt. He was stronger than that, colder than that. He was a vampire, vicious and cruel. He’d gotten his rocks off with the Slayer, gotten to taste her sweet, sweet blood. He didn’t need her to stick around, didn’t need to keep her.
Spike wiped at his eyes.
Giles sat on his couch, his glasses dangling from between his fingers and his head in his hands.
There were too many bloody people in his apartment.
Despite the fact there had been no further word from Buffy, no one seemed to want to leave. Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya were spread out amongst his furniture, all asleep. Riley stood by the door, apparently engaged in a several-hour staring contest with Angel.
And during it all, Ethan sat still tied to a chair, smirking. It took all Giles had not to simply kill the other man.
Giles had mentioned several times during the night that perhaps it would be better if everyone simply went home. He’d even gone upstairs and slept. However, it seemed that he was still stuck in a full house.
He wondered if Riley and Angel had as much as moved the entire night.
Giles needed something to break and soon. He was worried enough about his slayer without having his home invaded on top of it.
A loud pounding sounded at the door, and Giles sighed heavily, dreading who it could be. If it was someone else here to stay, then he might just bloody well move out himself. Still, he got up and moved towards it, noting that no one else was bothering, though the four sleeping were beginning to stir.
The second the door was opened a crack, Buffy barged in. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, her hair a tangled mess around her face. “Giles, I really need to talk to you.”
Before Giles could respond, two familiar male voices said Buffy’s name in unison, and her eyes bulged. This, she had not been expecting. She’d come here needing to talk to Giles, to get his advice since she didn’t know who else to turn to.
She didn’t need to be tag-teamed by her exes.
That thought made her pause. Was Riley her ex now?
“Where have you been?” Riley asked as he elbowed Angel out of the way and embraced Buffy. “I was worried about you.”
Buffy returned the hug stiffly as she wondered just how much Riley knew – and how long he was back. “I was out of town,” she replied as she broke free of his arms. “I thought you were still in Iowa.”
“I came back early to surprise you.”
“I’m definitely surprised.”
Angel seemed to loom over her from his place in the background, and she could feel him glowering at her. She could tell Riley knew, too, and she knew he probably thought Angel was upset from watching Buffy with him. He draped a possessive arm over her.
Buffy knew otherwise, and as she turned towards Angel, her cheeks colored. “So, Angel, um…when did you get here?”
“A couple days ago,” he replied tersely, his eyes boring into her.
Buffy looked down at her feet and cleared her throat. “So I guess you, um, drove here. In your car.”
“Yes, Buffy, I drove here. In my car.”
Buffy was embarrassed. There was no denying that much, she knew. Though a part of her still found the whole thing rather amusing, a fact that surprised her. Hell, even through her embarrassment, she was fighting the urge to point and Angel and laugh.
Maybe the spell wasn’t completely over after all.
And speaking of the spell… Buffy turned her head and caught sight of Ethan Rayne. He’d been quiet since her arrival, and she knew if he could hop away in that chair he was tied to like someone from a Bugs Bunny cartoon, he would. She trained her eyes on his, threw Riley’s arm off of her, and stalked towards Ethan.
He smiled, though his eyes were full of nervousness. “Hello, Buffy.”
“You son of a fucking bitch!” Buffy yelled before leaping at the man, knocking the chair to the ground as she pounced on him, hitting him hard in the face. Riley moved quickly, trying to pull her off, but she hit back without thinking, throwing him off and into one of her Watcher’s bookshelves. Angel swooped in then, pinning Buffy’s arms to her sides as he lifted her off Ethan, her legs kicking in the air.
“Let me go, you asshole,” she snarled at Angel. “I want to hurt him. Do you know what he did to me? Do you know what he took from me?”
From her seat on the couch, Anya watched the whole scene, entertained where the three other Scoobies in the room where horrified. “I thought the spell wore off when she came in here all upset. Is the spell still on?”
Her comment went ignored.
“Buffy, calm down,” Angel snapped, his grip around her tightening.
“No! He…he made me fall in love with a man who can never love me back!”
Her exclamation made the room fall silent for several moments until Riley spoke from behind her, pain and questioning in his voice. “Buffy?”
When he felt Buffy calm in his arms, Angel relaxed his hold, letting her slip to her feet. She turned and met Riley’s confused eyes as he sat in the rubble of what had once been a shelf.
She wanted to lie to him. She knew it was the only way she could get normal back. But the thought of normal now made her insides twist. That wasn’t her, and she couldn’t pretend anymore. She knew there was no way she could endure Riley’s touches now when she knew what it felt like to be truly and completely satisfied. When she knew that without “normal” she could be happier than she’d ever been in her life.
It wasn’t fair to either of them to pretend any longer.
“I fell in love with Spike.”
There, she’d said it, and it felt better to have the words out in the open. Riley didn’t respond, only gaped at her as if he couldn’t even fully comprehend what she was saying. Buffy figured he probably couldn’t.
But Angel could, and she felt him tense behind her before he spat out. “Spike can never love you, Buffy.”
She didn’t look at him, though her head dropped. “I know.”
The apartment suddenly way too crowded, Buffy turned and walked out. No one tried to stop her.
Buffy’s mind was reeling, and she didn’t know where to go. She wanted Spike. She wanted to be back in his arms where she felt safe and loved.
Spike can never love you, Buffy…
Angel’s words echoed over and over again in her mind, mirroring her own thoughts. Spike never could love her. Not her.
Even as all her slayer training told her a vampire could never love without a soul, the memory of Spike’s eyes when he looked at her told her otherwise.
But he hadn’t been looking at her, not really. Buffy didn’t doubt Spike had been in love with someone, but it hadn’t been her. Not Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Spike had fallen in love with someone who didn’t exist, a girl she couldn’t be.
No, when she was just herself, Spike hated her. He’d made that abundantly clear over the years, and she certainly didn’t think for a second that had actually changed. Of course he’d fall for a girl who wanted to get drunk, listen to punk rock, and fuck him into oblivion. But that wasn’t really her, and Spike didn’t love Buffy.
He never could love her when she was only Buffy.
But when she’d been with him, he’d been Spike. And as much as the revelation shocked her, somehow, she’d fallen in love with Spike. Even now that she wasn’t that girl anymore, she still loved him. He hadn’t been like she’d ever expected him to be, though it made sense, now that she thought about it. Drusilla had been so fragile and needy that of course Spike had to have a sensitive side.
Yet even when he wasn’t being gentle and loving, Buffy still liked him. He was bad and rude, but apparently, she liked that in a man. She’d never really thought of herself as someone who would enjoy rough sex, but now she was wondering if she’d ever be able to enjoy anything else. Even when Spike was at his most tender, everything was intense.
No, tender touches and gentle sighs would never be enough for her again.
Hell, from this moment on, Buffy was pretty damn sure she was just going to have to be celibate.
The whole thing was a mess. All she wanted was Spike, and she knew Spike would never want her. Even if he thought he did, he’d quickly discover she wasn’t the girl she’d been under the spell, and then where would she be? How could she stand that rejection?
How would she be able to take it when Spike figured out she wasn’t enough and told her so? She wouldn’t. It was better to make the break herself, to get out now before she had to suffer the inevitable.
This way, she could always treasure the memories of Spike telling her he loved her, and never have to endure the pain when he finally told her he didn’t.
Buffy stopped short and looked up, realizing she’d walked back to her own house. She was wishing now she’d never left. She’d felt like she had to talk to Giles, to get him to confirm what she already knew: a relationship between herself and Spike was impossible, and she was doing the right thing. She needed to hear that to stop herself from running right back to LA and begging Spike to let her back in his bed.
Things hadn’t gone according to plan, but she’d gotten her answer all the same. Angel had told her what she’d already known, cemented it in her mind. Though at the same time, seeing Riley had let her know that while the love would certainly die for Spike, she was very much still in love with a vampire.
She knew now nothing else would ever be enough.
Wounded, Buffy went inside.
As soon as the sun went down, Angel was gone. Giles had managed to clear the humans out when Buffy left, and Riley had called his old contacts to get Ethan carted off again.
Giles had spent the hours between then and nightfall ignoring Angel completely, which Angel thought was for the better. He was sure both of them would prefer to simply get this over with and never think of it again.
He didn’t bother with a goodbye as the sun disappeared over the horizon. He simply walked out, trying not to think too hard about the scent that was sure to still be lingering in his car. As soon as he got back to LA, he was having Wesley take that thing somewhere for a serious washing down. Hell, maybe he’d just sell the damn thing. Or torch it…
“Angel.”
He hadn’t expected Riley Finn to be waiting in the shadows, but Angel still turned, met him with a level gaze. “What do you want?”
“Look, I know you don’t like me any more than I like you, which is perfectly fine as far as I’m concerned. But the way I see it, we both have a shared problem right now.”
Angel nodded slightly. That much was true.
“He’s only going to hurt her, especially if he sticks around in Sunnydale.”
“I know,” Angel replied, though he doubted it would be for the reasons Riley was expecting.
“He’s got a chip in his head that would keep him from hurting me,” Riley explained, “so I could stake him without any trouble, but…”
“Staking him will get you a hell of a lot of trouble, boy,” Angel said tightly. He knew Buffy, knew what she’d do for someone she loved, whether it was a wise decision to love that person or not. And the way she’d been earlier… She hadn’t batted an eyelash when she’d tossed Riley across the room. If he dusted Spike when Buffy was as unstable as she was at the moment, well… Angel would almost hate to see what would happen to the good solider.
Almost.
“I know. Buffy, she’s…she’s gone a little crazy.”
Angel arched his eyebrow. This kid really had no idea, did he?
“But if we can get Spike away from her, she’ll be better off, so…”
That much, Angel agreed with. “You want me to help you get Spike out of the picture?”
“Yes,” Riley said, though Angel could see in the other man’s eyes how distasteful the idea of working with any vampire – especially Angel – was.
Angel didn’t think it over for long. His anger with the whole situation had made him forget that what had happened to Buffy hadn’t been completely of her own free will. There had been a spell involved, and now that normal life she needed –that he’d left to give her – was in jeopardy.
Leave it to Spike to put himself first and not care one bit about what he was doing to the girl. He’d never done anything in his whole miserable existence but go off half-cocked.
“I’ll do it.”
So last weekend I went to see James on Long Island. And my muse who has been sleeping for ages was all like “whoa…pretty…” and bam! I’m writing. That man is a freaking miracle. Anyway, long story short, I was on vacation last week and I wrote a lot. A whole lot. More in a week than I’ve written in months. This story is now actually finished in rough draft form, so I’ll be posting as I clean up the chapters until it’s all up.
Please review!