CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Leaving Spike to his sleep and dreams, Buffy rose with the permanent smile that had graced her face since the moment she awoke that morning to find him next to her, his arms encircling her waist. Slipping from his grasp and dressing silently, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen in search of breakfast, only to be confronted with two eager faces wanting details of the previous night's activities.
“Well, how'd it go? What did you do? Where did he take you? Was it nice? Huh? Huh?” Dawn's exuberance was obvious, due to the fact that Buffy couldn't get a word in edgewise! Joyce, however, was a little more measured and restrained in her enthusiasm.
“Dawn, calm down, let her speak. You're not the only one who wants to hear all about it!” she playfully chided her youngest, while turning enquiring eyes on her eldest.
“It was amazing, Mom! I’ve never had a date like it.”
Joyce took in the glow on her daughter's face, and smiled in reply.
Buffy proceeded to lay the whole night out for the pair of them, trying to include everything, from the food, to the location, to the effort that Spike had put in to dressing the clearing with candles and tea lights. She included their moments of stargazing, and some of the more adorable moments of Spike's insecurities, but she made a point of leaving out some of her more personal thoughts and feelings.
Joyce and Dawn listened attentively, smiling and gasping in all the right spots, and asking questions when they wanted to know things in greater detail.
Finally, with breakfast consumed and coffee drunk by Buffy and Joyce, the conversation moved away from Buffy's date, although it was with some reluctance that Dawn allowed the conversation to be steered away. She was living vicariously through Buffy, enjoying listening to what a date with Spike would entail and she wanted to drink in every drop of emotion and information Buffy could supply.
“So, what's the plan for today, anything going on?” Buffy enquired, having finally convinced Dawn that there really wasn't anything else to tell about last night, at least, not to her. If she was being brutally honest, she wasn't sure there was anybody that she would share some of her thoughts about Spike with, but, if pressed, she supposed that Willow and Tara would be her first stop. I mean, a girl's gotta be able to gush to someone, right?
Dawn piped up brightly, “Well, seeing as it's the weekend, and Janice is out of town, I’m gonna go to the Magic Box and show Willow and Tara Spike's place. They were asking about it, and what it looked like and stuff, but we hadn't seen it at the time, so I told them that I would film it and show them. That alright, Mom? You don't mind giving me a ride, do you?”
“Of course not, sweetie. I’ll come with you, since I don't really have much going on today anyway. The gallery's been quite busy, with rather a lot for me to do lately, so a day spent with nothing much to do sounds fun. What about you, Buffy? Any plans?”
“Well, since Spike hasn't seen what could be his new place yet, how about I bring him along in a little while, once he's up and around? He can use the tunnels, and we can all see it together? Sound OK?”
“Talking 'bout me, ladies?”
The three Summers women turned to see Spike standing in the shadowed doorway of the kitchen, jeans low on his hips, and his chest exposed. However inappropriate it might have been, what with their familial emotions for the vampire developing more and more every day, Dawn and Joyce both had a fleeting moment of jealousy. Dawn's adolescent crush came to the fore with gusto, while Joyce's more mature and womanly side was struck dumb at the sight of this sculpted male body in front of her. Those feelings quickly shifted to a sense of pride for Buffy, and how she'd managed to snag herself such a fine specimen.
Buffy smiled at Spike, taking in his body, feeling her nipples tightening against the material of her top, and her cavern gave an involuntary clench, as if reminding her of its presence. It took her a few moments to realise that all was quiet in the room, and turned her eyes to her mother and sister. What greeted her almost made her laugh out loud. The picture of both Joyce and Dawn openly staring at her man was too good to miss. Her Slayer side was growling possessively, but it was duly overridden and slapped down by her giggling human side.
Leaning over, she gave her mother a nudge with her shoulder, followed by addressing Dawn in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “Wipe the drool, Dawnie.”
Buffy then turned her attention back to the now smirking vampire. “Spike, you might want to save the shirtless-ness for Gratuitous Male Objectification Day,” Buffy chided him.
“When's that then, luv?”
“When you're not living in a house with three women, including my single mom and hormonal little sister!” Buffy let her eyes wander over his bare torso and down to his belt, before meeting his gaze with a pointed one of her own.
Taking in the flushed looks being aimed at him, the one on Joyce's face especially, Spike uttered a quick and sincere apology, and made a hasty retreat back upstairs. He had no problem with his body, why should he? And he had to admit he liked teasing Dawn a little bit, but to see Joyce looking at him in that way was certainly... … disconcerting, to say the least. He thought of her as the closest thing he had to a living mother, and no son should draw those kind of looks from his mum!
Stifling a chuckle, Buffy once again faced her family. “So, should I be worried? I mean, the pair of you were just checking out my boyfriend! I’m fairly sure you're NOT supposed to do that.”
Dawn turned an interesting shade of purple, before hiding her face in her hands and disappearing from the kitchen in a blur of colour and hair.
Joyce was able to maintain a more dignified stance, and simply turned back to the sink to rinse out her coffee mug. She could feel her daughter's gaze burning into the back of her head, and when she was sure that she had regained her composure, she turned back to face the eldest of her offspring.
“Sorry about that Buffy, I.. uh... well... he... uh... he took me by surprise is all.” Lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, she continued on, “He really is, you know, quite... nice... to look at.”
Buffy couldn't contain herself any longer. Call it revenge for her mother laughing at her following the bite-induced orgasm incident, but Buffy let loose a very uncharacteristically girl-y laugh, causing her mother's face to flame, and she once again turned her attention back to the sink, trying desperately to find something interesting hidden there.
Satisfied that she had chastened her mother sufficiently, she traced Spike's footsteps upstairs, to find him fully dressed, and just about to rejoin his surrogate family.
Spotting the mad grin on her face, Spike couldn't resist, “What you grinning 'bout, little lady?”
“It turns out you have a bit of a fan club.”
Edging her way past him, she went into her room, still smiling, and readied herself for a shower. She couldn't deny, having Spike around certainly kept things interesting.
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“No, for the last time, I’m just saying, try not to do it again. I think you made him a little uncomfortable is all. He doesn't really mind, but it's... well... it's you, mom. You know how Spike feels about you, and I think you weirded him out a little is all. At least try to stop the drool from dribbling down your chin!”
Willow and Tara looked up at Buffy's playful tone as the Summers entourage entered the Magic Box. They could see that Buffy was grinning from ear to ear, Joyce looked... ... embarrassed, was the best word for it, while Dawn looked beyond mortified.
“Like I said, he just took me by surprise is all. I promise, it won't happen again,” Joyce countered. “And there was no drool!” she added in a low, insistent voice.
Willow broke into the conversation from her seat at the research table as the family moved towards them. “What's going on? What's with all the... looks?”
Buffy turned her amused expression towards the two witches and explained with barely contained humour, “Let's just say, Mom and Dawn have come to... appreciate, the more... physical aspects of Spike. He came downstairs this morning without his shirt. Oh, you should have seen them, Dawn lost the ability to speak, and Mom was staring at him like she'd never seen a guy before!”
Dawn's shouted, “BUFFY!!” was accompanied by a more stern, “Buffy, really!” from her mother, although the latter was obviously amused, and was struggling to withhold a smile. Dawn, however, was truly embarrassed, and made a beeline to the table, and a seat next to Tara, who immediately took her into a comforting hug. Luckily for the brunette witch, the teen buried her head in Tara's embrace, and so couldn't see the smile that she was sporting. Everybody knew of Dawn's crush on Spike, and so it was no surprise to either of the witches that the sight of a shirtless Spike could render Dawn catatonic.
It was at this moment that Giles appeared, followed closely by Anya, from the door that led to the basement. “What is going on up here?! I thought that we'd been invaded by a herd of very loud, English speaking elephants!”
Turning to face her watcher, Buffy once again recounted that mornings events, drawing a tired eye roll from Joyce and an inarticulate sound of protest from Dawn, somewhat muffled by the fact that she was still buried in the hug that Tara was giving her. When Buffy was finished regaling the new-comers with the story, Giles was furiously cleaning his glasses, avoiding anybody's eyes, and so Anya took that moment to voice her opinion.
“Oh, yes, I can certainly see how that could be very distracting. Spike really does have a very attractive body. You know, Dawn, you're just about reaching that age now where you'll start masturbating, and I’m sure Spike's body would certainly fit the--”
“OH MY GOD! ANYA! SHUT UP!” Buffy's shout echoed through the suddenly silent room. Joyce's face reddened to epic proportions, and Dawn let out another inarticulate noise, only this time it was loud enough that it left Tara with a ringing in her ears.
“Fine. I was just trying to be of help, y'know! There's nothing wrong with it! Everyone does it! I was only saying that Spike certainly has a body worth thinking about when she--”
“ANYA! STOP! JUST STOP! OK?” Buffy's insistence was clear to all who was within hearing distance.
“Fine! I’ll go finish up in the basement, seeing as how I’m not needed or wanted here.”
Joyce took in Anya's affronted look, and in a moment of compassion, decided to throw the ex-demon a life-line.
“Anya, dear, if you want to stay, it's fine, but please, try to keep in mind Dawn's age, and maybe adjust your topics of conversation? Maybe not so brash when it comes to things of a... sexual nature?”
“Fine. I can do that. I wasn't really aware that we weren't allowed to have those kinds of talks while Dawn was present. You do realise, in Bangladesh, girls Dawn's age are married and producing offspring, but that's OK, there's plenty of other things I can talk about. You like capitalism, don't you, Mrs. Summers? I mean, your gallery is successful, isn't it, so I would infer that you do.”
It was at that moment that Spike appeared, emerging from the basement, and so Joyce was spared Anya's treatise on western economic practices. Moving into the shop, Spike cast a smile and wave in Joyce's direction, and a wink at Dawn's suddenly upturned face before closing with Buffy and placing a chaste kiss to her lips.
Buffy couldn't deny the conflicting emotions swirling through her at that very moment. On the one hand, she really was expecting something a little more... intense from Spike, but, on the other hand, she thought it best to not have a buttery, throbbing and clenching pussy with so many of her friends in full view, not to mention her mother and little sister. It wasn't her fault that Spike's kisses were able to do that to her body! Not her fault in the slightest!
Failing to resist the urge, Buffy couldn't help but make a remark that she knew would have some impact on the room at large, and so spoke in a tone loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Hi, baby. So, you remembered your clothes this time, huh?”
Joyce flushed lightly, Dawn's head returned to Tara's body in a flash, although some very pink skin was still visible, while Anya nodded appreciatively, and the witches both giggled quietly.
Leaning over to whisper something in her girlfriend's ear conspiratorially, Willow pulled back with a grin at Tara's raised eyebrows, but nodded nonetheless.
Clearing her throat, Tara spoke strongly, no hint of her stammer in evidence.
“So, I hear that you gave the girls a bit of an eyeful this morning, huh, Spike?” Before he could reply, or anyone else could weigh in on the forming conversation, she continued on, “Well, Willow and I are feeling a little left out over here, so, how about it? You gonna take your shirt off again, just for us? Please?”
Spike knew, in an instant, that the witches were bluffing, being that they most definitely didn't bat for the home team, but never let it be said that Spike was one to turn down a request from a lady. In an eye-blink, he'd shrugged off his duster, which found itself thrown over the back of one of the chairs at the research table with pinpoint precision. He was just reaching for the neck of his t-shirt to pull it over his head before Buffy stepped in, grabbing his hands and preventing him from removing said garment.
“HEY! No asking my boyfriend to strip! That's so not gonna happen! You guys aren't even interested in... well...guys!”
Tara managed one sentence, “Well, that doesn't mean that we can't appreciate something on an aesthetic level,” before both her and Willow dissolved into unrestrained laughter.
Cuffing Spike round the back of his head lightly, Buffy stifled her smile and took the seat at the research table that had Spike's coat over it. Taking in Anya's slightly disappointed look, her inner girl was laughing hysterically, while her inner Slayer growled territorially. 'I guess Spike really is a hot commodity when it comes to us girls. YAY ME!'
Giles took in the scene unfolding around him with his usual British restraint and reserve, but it was not lost on him the ease with which Spike had melded into the group. Laughter, real, genuine laughter, had been in short supply as of late. Though Xander had tried his best to supply it, he wondered whether the others had started to notice that a lot of Xander's attempts had focused on making Spike the butt of the joke, and, in many cases, to make Xander himself appear more superior to the said vampire. It was a slightly troubling development that, thus far, Giles had decided to keep to himself, but had nonetheless decided to keep a watchful eye on, no pun intended.
Stirring himself from his thoughts, he made his way back to the basement to finish up the last of the reorganisation. Maybe, without Anya's interference, he'd be able to finally accomplish his task in good time.
In fact, so correct was his prediction, that he found himself once again back amongst everyone in the space of ten minutes, just as everyone was settling themselves down on chairs around one end of the table, with what appeared to be Willow's laptop in the middle, connected to a camcorder via a short length of cable.
“If I might enquire, what are we watching? I do hope it's not one of those dreadful reality shows.”
Joyce spoke up in answer, at the same time indicating the empty seat next to her. “Sit yourself down, Rupert. I was just about to come get you.” Once he was seated on his designated chair, Joyce lowered her voice so only he could hear her. “Dawn's making us watch a recording of Spike's new place. Just keep quiet and nod appreciatively every now and again, alright?”
“I think that may be within my range of abilities to do so, certainly.”
“A simple 'yes' would have sufficed, Rupert. Now, ssshhhh. If it keeps Dawn happy, then this is what we're gonna do.”
The images flashed up on the screen, clearly Dawn operating the camera as Spike's belongings from his crypt were sorted and boxed up.
“You can skip all this, Willow, this is just us helping Spike move out of his crypt,” Dawn indicated to the redhead, who duly reached over and hit the fast-forward button. The images flashed by the screen even faster, until, finally, the camera was set down in what looked like the upper portion of Spike's former home. A few frames could just be made out of Buffy, Dawn and Joyce leaving, and closing the door behind them. Then for a good while, all was still, prompting a question from Joyce- well, more of an observation, really.
Leaning over, and keeping her tone light, she addressed her youngest, “So, I’m thinking that maybe you forgot it, and that was what that trip to Spike's was all about the other day?”
Dawn was just about to respond when some movement caught everyone's eye and Willow hit 'play' on the laptop.
Spike had just wandered into the right edge of the frame, and, judging by the sounds in the crypt, lit a cigarette. Still keeping to the edge of the frame, he hoisted himself up onto what was presumably the sarcophagus, and settled in to having a smoke.
“Ooohhh, goody, I get to see what Spike gets up to when no-one's around,” Buffy teased, rubbing her hands together in gleeful satisfaction. “It's like candid camera,” she continued, clearly amused by the prospect, and was about to wonder aloud about it being 'G rated' or 'NC17' when the crypt door, fully in the centre of the picture, banged open to reveal Xander silhouetted in its frame.
Spike immediately knew what was gonna occur, having been there for this 'discussion', and made a move to reach the camera. “I don't reckon you lot need to see this, how about we fast forward to my new place, yeah?”
Joyce, however, was not so easily swayed, and reached out a hand to grip Spike by the wrist and pull him back to his seat. “I don't think so, Spike. I think I’d like to see just what happens here. Unless, of course there's something that you don't want us to see? Something that you did?”
Spike's stomach dropped, and a cold feeling settled itself there, showing no signs of leaving any time soon. He didn't want them to see this, not for his sake, but for the damage that he knew it would cause to everyone sitting here. A sense of failure set in, just like that night atop the tower with Doc. He was gonna fail again, there was nothing that he could do. He wasn't gonna be able to protect them, just like he hadn't protected Dawn.
Turning imploring eyes towards Buffy, he did his best in the split second he had to convey the meaning of his gaze, silently begging her to understand and take his side in this. He felt powerless. After all she'd done for him, he couldn't bring himself to fight with Joyce, despite the fact that he could easily overpower her. He had to get Buffy to understand and turn it off. It would do no good for any of them to see Xander's tirade; it would hurt all the people he loved most in the world, not to mention the demon-bird.
With his gaze still locked on Buffy's, he made another move for the camera. He had to stop this, but Buffy mistook his worried look for guilt, and latched onto her mother's line of thought and questioning. She gripped his wrist in an iron grip, stopping him again, then pushed him back into his chair with more force than was strictly necessary.
“Well? Something you did, huh?” Her voice came out a little colder than normal, and with a look of disappointment beginning to make its way across her features.
Spike was just about to answer, to protest vehemently, when Xander's voice, dripping with vile hatred and contempt, cut through the quiet of the crypt and the Magic Box. It was too late now. They were all going to see and hear what had transpired that day.
Spike sagged in his chair and closed his eyes. He let out a breath that he hadn't realised that he'd been holding and felt every drop of life leave his body with it. Yet again, when it counted, he'd failed to protect them.
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To say that you could have heard a pin drop would have been an understatement. Aside from a few gasps here and there in response to the language that was used, mostly by Xander, the assembly was stock-still and as silent as a crypt. It was the most emotionally painful situation that Spike had ever been in, at least one where the obvious solution wasn't to kill the thing responsible!
Xander's words were having a deeply profound effect on everyone present, but, he guessed, and rightly so, none more than on Buffy and Anya.
Spike's stomach churned with emotions ranging from shame to dread to fury to blood-curdling fear. He was ashamed he'd let it happen. He should have smashed the recorder to bits the moment that he'd realised what was happening! What the hell had he been thinking?! Obviously, he'd not been thinking at all, as usual! His bloody brain was about as useful as tits on a boar hog! And now everyone had seen it. He could smell the tears and adrenaline, he could hear the racing heartbeats, he could feel the anger pulsing and radiating throughout the room. Their mouths may be shocked into silence, but their bodies said more than words ever could.
He was afraid to look up. Afraid to see the hurt in Buffy's eyes. Afraid to see the sickened and appalled expression on her face. Afraid that if he made eye contact with her, all of her anger would crash upon him and he'd be kicked to the curb … or more likely, he'd meet a dusty end and be swept out to the curb with the rest of the rubbish. He'd let her down. Again. Yes, Xander started it, but Spike knew he'd pushed the boy's buttons, egged him on, and needled him into a fit of rage. And now the Slayer had seen it all in living colour. He'd blown it. The best thing in his miserable existence ripped to shreds by getting that little shit of a boy to admit the filthy truth and then allowing it to be witnessed by the people that it would wound the most.
Spike felt sick. His stomach felt like it was folding in on itself. His limbs felt weak and frozen in place, keeping him from placing himself at Buffy's feet and begging her for her forgiveness, begging her to give him another chance. He'd meant what he'd said to Xander. Every word. He wanted Buffy to be proud of him, wanted to show her that he could be a man for her, and not a monster. He wanted her to see that he was capable of love, that he loved her... and that he deserved her love in return.
But he didn't. That was all too clear now. He didn't deserve anything. So he simply sat, head bowed in shame, and waited for the final blow that she would deliver.
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Buffy zoned out when the screen showed Dawn coming into the crypt and Xander leaving. She didn't even realise that the video had progressed through several minutes of Dawn's tour of Spike's new house before Willow finally pressed the 'pause' button. She sat now, in a semi-stupor, her mind racing, her heart bleeding, her stomach full of angry birds, flapping and pecking mercilessly at her insides, wanting out. She felt the bile rise to the back of her throat, tasted the vile, acidic liquid before swallowing it back reflexively.
'This must be what Xander tastes all the time.' The thought was the first coherent one to register with her conscious mind in several minutes. She'd been drowning in hundreds of thoughts, but they'd been jumbled and crashing into each other like cars at a demolition derby as she watched her friend -- a man she thought was her friend – not only physically and verbally abuse her boyfriend, but … but …
Xander's callous, crazed words ricocheted around in her mind like a bullet, shredding her brain into painful splinters and making her woozy and sick again.
“What makes you think that you deserve her? I saw her first, I loved her first, and she chose fucking Angel over me! That filthy, disgusting thing got to have Buffy, got to fuck her, when she wouldn't give me the time of day! That's how that prick lost his fucking soul! He fucked Buffy... took her virginity! It should have been me! I should have been the one to have her, she should have been mine! I’m not gonna let another filthy parasite take her from me!”
Buffy felt like she finally understood the saying, 'You can't un-ring a bell.' She wanted to un-hear all of it; wanted to un-see it. But she couldn't. It was there. In her mind. In her ears. Burning her eyes with hot, salty tears. Making her heart bleed.
The things her so-called 'friend' had said, the vitriol in his voice, the language he'd used, it was inside her, part of her now … forever.
No matter how hard she tried to get them to stop, Xander's words continued to bombard Buffy's mind, enraging those birds in her stomach and twisting the dagger now firmly embedded in her heart. She could still hear Xander scream and shout at Spike that he should have been the one to 'have her', that she let a 'complete stranger get balls deep in her pussy', while she never gave him the time of day. The fact that, because he'd 'seen her first, loved her first', he should have been the one to sleep with her and take her virginity, it was all too much for her to take in. And that he'd only ever been with Anya to make her jealous? That was something so beyond her ability to process at the moment.
Buffy thought that Xander was her friend, that he liked her as a person, and enjoyed her company, but she could see now, after all that he'd said, that he'd spent the last five years forcing himself into her life with the hope that she'd finally give him a chance with her. The level of betrayal that she was feeling was beyond anything she'd ever felt. At least Angel becoming Angelus was an unconscious and uncontrollable incident, but this, this was premeditated and deliberate. Xander was only her friend because he wanted to 'have her'!
Buffy desperately wanted the sound of Xander's voice out of her head, but it refused to budge, just replaying all the worst parts. She clapped her hands over her ears, and squeezed her eyes closed, sending warm tears down her cheeks, but it didn't help at all. The words and images were still there, all of it, indelibly tattooed on her mind. Buffy couldn't understand what was happening to her, parts of her felt numb, she couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't really process anything, but the anger and hurt churning inside were so painful that she could only pray that the rest of her to go numb, just to stop it. She couldn't seem to process it all. She felt like her brain was going to explode, that her heart was going to bleed to death. It was too much. Too raw. Too powerful. The realisation was utterly and completely overwhelming.
Xander wasn't really her friend. He just wanted to fuck her. He saw her as his property to have. Like calling 'dibs' on the last cookie in the jar. Because he'd 'seen her first', she was supposed to belong to him?
Xander wasn't really her friend.
A sob broke her out of her internal monologue, the small release momentarily interrupting the vile sound of Xander's voice in her head and pausing the endless video loop of him punching Spike in the face. She dropped her hands from her ears and managed to blink her eyes open. Her tear-blurred gaze landed on Anya. The ex-demon had tears running down her cheeks unchecked, salty pain dripping from her chin, and suddenly the numbness in Buffy's limbs vanished as she realised she wasn't really the most injured party here, Anya was.
Buffy's movements towards Anya seemed to pull everyone out of their stunned stupor, and it was in those few seconds that the room erupted into a furore of noise.
“BLOODY HELL!” “THAT SON OF A BITCH!” “I CAN'T BELIEVE XANDER WOULD SAY THOSE THINGS!” Giles, Joyce and Willow all spoke simultaneously, their outbursts melding into each other. Buffy ignored them as she continued on her path towards a clearly distraught Anya.
Sitting down in the chair next to the ex-demon, Buffy took Anya's hand in hers and looked at the weeping woman. Words were beyond her at that point, and once again, silence prevailed over the shop.
Taking a deep breath, doing her best to compose herself, Anya spoke through her tears, her voice shaky and racked with emotion. However, they were not addressed to Buffy, but to Spike, who was sitting stock still with his head bowed, doing his best impression of a piece of furniture, lest he be brought into the conversation.
“You're a good person, Spike.”
The vampire's head flew up at this statement, and he locked eyes with the tearful ex-demon in front of him. A confused, questioning expression was all that was needed for Anya to elaborate, though it was clearly difficult through her tears and barely concealed sobs.
“I heard... what you said... ... about Buffy... and Dawn... and Joyce... …. …. and me. You... you really do... … love them. You stood up... to... … … … … him. You weren't gonna let him... … drive you away.”
Turning back to Buffy, and placing her other hand over the one holding hers, Anya spoke as best she could. “You're very lucky... … to have him.” Looking over at Dawn and Joyce, the latter of whose heart broke for the younger woman, she added with a wan smile, “You all are.”
Buffy's throat closed up and the tears that had been just trickling from her eyes suddenly became a flood, matching Anya's. The man she thought had been her friend all these years had turned out to be someone who simply wanted to 'have her', to cage her and control her, and the man who had been her enemy had turned out to be the one who wanted to set her free.
Spike had never asked her to be anything but what she was; he never tried to control her or change her-- sure, he tried to kill her before, but that was just the obligatory mortal enemies dance. Now he just loved her for who she was. He'd been honest about his feelings, even when he knew she wouldn't reciprocate, even when he knew he'd be ridiculed. Unlike Xander, Spike had never pretended to be anything but who he was. He'd stood by her and her family, protected them, putting his own life in mortal jeopardy, even when she'd given him no hope of earning her love. He just kept trying. Yes, he stumbled and fell a few times along the way, but he always got back up and tried to be a better man … for her.
Buffy's head was spinning, her heart was unsure whether it should rejoice with the ever-deepening feeling of pride and affection she felt for Spike or break from the betrayal of one of her closest friends. She tried to speak, to reply to Anya, but another sob was all she could manage to get past her heart, which had lodged in her throat.
Dawn took the opportunity during the ensuing silence after Anya's declaration to speak up, her emotions overflowing as well. She aimed an angry look at Spike, and accused, “You lied to me! You looked me right in the eye, and lied to me. You told me he just came by to talk. It's right there, at the end, everyone saw it! You. Lied. To. Me.”
Spike turned his shocked gaze away from Anya and settled it on the bit. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, feeling he had no choice but to speak up in his defence. In truth, he would've rather remained part of the furniture, preferring that to being part of the dust on the floor, as he still had no idea what Buffy was really thinking. Did she blame him for egging the little git on? Xander had certainly been part of her life much longer than Spike had; it wouldn't be the first time she'd taken the side of one of the Scoobies over him.
He hadn't meant for this to happen. He never intended anyone to know about Xander's mad rant, most especially not Anya or Buffy. He would do anything now to undo it, but there was no way to take it back, to erase what they'd seen and heard and felt. He should've fought harder to stop it … should've done something more. Because of him, Buffy and Anya were sobbing uncontrollably … all because he'd failed … again.
His words came out hoarsely as he addressed Dawn while trying to hold his own emotions in check. “I thought it was for the best, Nibblet. Never wanted this to happen.” He spread his arms, taking in everyone around him. Hurt and betrayal shone on everyone's faces, with the exception of Giles, who was pacing the floor of the shop with a tight, controlled expression on his face. Clearly, his English restraint was being sorely tested, and he looked like he was shaking slightly with barely shackled rage.
Spike continued on, still speaking to Dawn directly, “And I didn't lie, technically. He did come 'round t' 'ave a chat, just didn't have nice things to say. 'Sides, what was I supposed to say to you? You reckon I should have gone on about it all? How would that have made you feel, Bit? Would’ve been in a right state, just like you are right now, and I would have been the one to make you feel that way, if you'd believed me, that is. I wasn't gonna do that to you, to any of you. Was keeping that little chat t' m'self. I don't give a buggering blue fu--” Spike stopped short and cleared his throat a moment, recomposing himself, trying to reign in his anger before he continued. He didn't completely succeed. “I don't care 'bout 'im, hell, I don't even care about me! Got me some thick skin, I have, I can take it, but you, and Buffy, and Joyce? NO! That was NOT gonna happen! I was not gonna let him hurt you!”
Dawn's eyes fell to the floor for a moment as a slight prickle of shame invaded her mind. This situation wasn't about her, or what Spike had said to her. It was about Buffy and Anya, and, she realised, it was about Spike. Throwing away her misplaced anger for just that: misplaced, she took a moment to really take in what had happened, and what Spike had done. He'd laid out his deepest feelings for Xander to hear, without hesitation. His feelings for Buffy, herself, and her mother, and hadn't batted an eyelid when Xander tried to denigrate him and his achievements. He stood fast and firm for the family that he loved, and had left Xander in no doubt about his love for them all. Taking in all this information as fast as her brain could process it, it was with some genuine pride in him that Dawn met his gaze once again.
The smallest ghost of a smile was gracing Dawn's features as she spoke again. “Anya's right. You ARE a good person, Spike.” She stood from her seat next to her mother and advanced on Spike, picking her way past Joyce, Willow and Tara, before coming to rest in front of the vampire that she thought of as her big brother. Her lip trembled for a moment as she took in his wary expression before launching herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug and promptly burst into tears. “I'm... sorry... for... yelling... at... you. I... didn't... mean... it.”
Spike wrapped his arms around her, and rested his cheek against the top of her head looking at Joyce, Buffy and Anya. “Sssshhhh, no worries, Dawnie. I promise, it's alright. Thick skin, remember?”
Dawn's sudden outburst seemed to shatter the shocked, numb atrophy that everyone was feeling. Within seconds, Anya was surrounded by Willow and Tara, who were doing their best to comfort and console the heart-broken woman, while Spike found himself face to face with the remainder of the Summers family.
“I'm sorry, Joyce, I just didn't know what to-”
“It's alright, Spike. You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, it's me that owes you an apology. As Anya pointed out, I heard what you said, about Dawn and Buffy and me. That meant a lot to me. You're a good boy, Spike. And I understand why you kept it to yourself. It's OK.” She tried her best to throw in a reassuring smile, to try and remove that shaken, almost scared look from his face.
Buffy also faced him, swiping at her wet cheeks and puffy eyes with her fingers. Once again she felt her heart clench in her chest and try to rise up into her throat, and the angry birds in her belly begin to peck at her insides again. He looked ashamed and more terrified than she'd ever seen him. Facing a hell-god didn't scare Spike, fighting a demon thrice his size wouldn't faze him, even taking on a Slayer didn't daunt him, but facing her now, not as the Slayer, but just as Buffy, seemed to reduce him to a wary, frightened boy. She could tell he was afraid that he'd screwed up, that she was gonna leave him … or worse. How could she let him know that he'd done nothing wrong, that hearing his spirited defence of her family and his feelings for them was the one shining thing in the pit of darkness that she'd found herself thrust into?
Dawn had retreated at the sound of her mother's voice, leaving Spike with empty arms. Buffy wasted no time whatsoever in filling them, enfolding him in her loving embrace and squeezing him tightly. He rocked her back and forth, stroking her back as she let her body melt against his. She tried to pour reassurance into the embrace, trying to convey that they were still OK, and that she wasn't going anywhere. She pulled back, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him softly.
“It's OK, Spike, like Mom said, you didn't do anything wrong, OK?-It's alright. I was the one that was wrong. I should have trusted you.”
Spike swallowed hard, his blue eyes now bright with unshed tears as he gazed into her shimmering green orbs. “I know, I just... for a minute there...” He let the sentence trail off and rested his forehead against hers, his grip on her now having become a little looser, his fear that she was gonna pull away from him assuaged.
Buffy closed her eyes and leaned into him, still holding him tightly, hoping he could feel her respect and pride and affection flowing from her heart to his. She was suddenly more angry at Xander for making Spike feel afraid than she was for anything else her 'friend' had done and said about her. Spike may claim to have a thick skin, and perhaps with most people he did, but not with her. With her, it was paper-thin; with her he was on shaky ground, never sure if she was going to pull the plug on this whole 'give Spike a try' idea. She didn't know how to assuage that fear, but Buffy realised she needed to find a way … soon.
Behind the weeping, hugging group at the table, Giles was seething in anger, his English restraint pushed to its absolute limits. This... boy that they'd allowed into their lives, that he'd allowed into the life of his Slayer... words were beyond him at this point. The betrayal and anger that he was feeling was something that he'd never imagined, and not only on behalf of Buffy, but to hear him talk about Anya in that way, like she was a disposable object, just keeping him satisfied until he could, in his mind, 'have' Buffy. Giles' only thought was that it had better be Willow or Tara that found and spoke to him first, 'cos he was sure that the damage that he would do to Xander would be something that the teen would take a long time to recover from. That was, if Buffy didn't get a hold of him first, and even with the chip, he was fairly certain that Spike would rip the boy limb from limb. That thought gave him pause for a moment. Would he really intervene on Xander's behalf, if Spike chose to deal with the matter himself? It was an ethical quandary that, at this point in time, Giles had to admit to a certain amount of problems answering.
Taking in the unusual pair in front of him, vampire and Slayer, he had to seriously wonder if there was anything on the planet that could withstand their wrath. Lord help Xander if that wrath was ever fully turned in his direction.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello, one and all. Well, here it is, the next chapter of my story. I do owe you all a massive apology due to my tardiness, but real life has a habit of interfering with my writing. Rather rudely, if you ask me. :-) Anyway, here it is, and I hope you all enjoy it. My thanks have to go to P4S for betaing for me and making this mess, at the very least, intelligible, not to mention her support and encouragement. My other thank you has to go to PaganBaby for her wonderful banners, and the inspiration and encouragement she's given me to try this in the first place. The pair of them are wonderful, and I owe them so much, a simple thank you doesn't feel like it does them justice, but it's all I have. Thank you both, girls, you're awesome.
Chapter End Notes:
So, there it is. I hope people are happy with it, and I do have to thank you all for taking the time to read it. A special thank you goes out to all of you that have left me a review, they really do mean a lot to me, and I truly appreciate them. I seem to have collected a small pack of regular reviewers, and for that I feel truly grateful, and appreciate each and every one of you deeply. Speak to you all on my next update. Take care.