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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well, where to start? Real life has been a little less hectic recently, and this is the result. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it. My hanks to all who have left a review, I love hearing peoples thoughts on what I've written, so please, keep it up. They are truly appreciated.
Finally, this is done for entertainment. In no way, shape or form am I associated with anything remotely Buffy. Please do not sue me, at it would be a waste of both mine and your time.
CHAPTER EIGHT:

The morning came to find the three Summers women having breakfast, an air of tension palpable in the quiet. Yesterday, the decision had been made that today was the day that Buffy would talk to her friends and reveal to them the choices she had made about Spike and her feelings for him.

Buffy had to admit, she was not looking forward to the prospect of laying herself open to their judgements. The result being, when she had voiced this fear to her mother yesterday evening over dinner, it was decided that, while Dawn stayed home and kept a watchful eye on Spike, Joyce would accompany Buffy to the Magic Box. Joyce had already said to her that she would not get involved if Buffy didn't want her to, but would be there simply for support and as a friendly face.

Joyce, however, was under no illusions as to whether she would have to make her presence felt. Remembering Xander's attitude towards Spike the night this all began, she could not shake the feeling that he would object vehemently. This had caused her maternal hackles to rise ferociously.

'How dare he think that he can dictate to my daughter who she can be friends, or potentially, more than friends, with!'

She was going to make sure that she left both Xander and Giles under no delusions whatsoever as to whether they had any say in Buffy's personal life. Her daughter had had to sacrifice a lot in her life, and so help her, she would not allow someone else to rob Buffy of the chance of a little happiness. Not on her watch!

Dawn had wisely decided to keep quiet this morning. It was obvious to her that both her mother and sister were deep in thought, probably considering what was to come later today. She would have liked to come along with the both of them, if only to see her mom put Xander and Giles in their places, but realised that maybe she could do more by volunteering to stay with Spike and promise to take care of him. This, at least, would be one thing less for Buffy to worry about and, she got to spend the day with Spike, even if it was just sitting with him, reading, while he slept.

Dawn also had to admit to herself, after Buffy had announced to her and her mom that she wanted to give Spike a chance with her, she had felt a small spark of jealousy prickle her skin. She was under no false hope that she actually had a chance with Spike. After all, he was hopelessly in love with her sister, but still... Buffy's decision was forcing her to let go of a dream that she would have liked to have kept for a while longer.

Maybe it was the first sign that she was truly growing up, but, knowing that Spike and Buffy could have a chance at being together made Dawn smile. She loved her sister, and, of course, Spike was a hottie, so it stirred in her a kind of misplaced sense of pride that her sister would be able to snag that male, salty goodness for herself. Better Buffy than some random skank! And Dawn knew how much it would mean to Spike to actually be with her sister, and that was something she would not deny him, not for anything. Smiling on the inside at the maturity she knew she was displaying, and knowing that no-one else would know of her sacrifices, she turned her focus back to her breakfast.

Buffy, on the other hand, was not fairing as well as her mother or sister. The upcoming meeting with her friends was most definitely responsible for the mixture of butterflies and wasps currently setting up residence in her stomach. She wasn't going to change her mind, but the anxiety she was feeling was causing her to go over the things she had learned in the last few days over and over again. She didn't love Spike, she knew that. She also knew that no-one else in her life had given as much as he had, was prepared to give as much as he was, when it came to her. The person that came closest was her mother. What did that say about him, about how he felt about her? She couldn't ignore it any longer; she didn't want to ignore it any longer. This man had given, sacrificed, and paid in blood and pain, for her and the protection of her family.

'He loves me, it's that simple to him... he loves me.'

So she knew she didn't love him, but, she thought, even hoped, she could one day. After everything was said and done, that was what he deserved. If she was completely honest with herself, something she was being forced to do more and more these last few days, she could see herself loving him, really and truly loving him. He was physically attractive, that was a given. She'd always seen the hotness that was Spike, from their first encounter in that alley behind the Bronze. But it went deeper than that. She'd seen his capacity for love and affection with others. He had shown his heart to the whole world as he wore it proudly on his sleeve, and he made no attempt to hide it when it was bleeding.

Several smaller things now stood out to her as she viewed them with hindsight, like his affection for Tara. Someone who had shown him acceptance and a small amount of friendly affection. This had resulted in a slight protective streak that she was sure would continue to develop. His capacity to care for her sister and mother was completely beyond question and doubt. All of these things had combined to show Buffy that Spike truly could love and care, even without his soul, and in that respect, as far as she knew, he was completely unique.... one of a kind. She'd wondered whether soulless vampires could love, and thought maybe they could for purely selfish reasons, but Spike loved selflessly. Spike loved even when he shouldn't, and all it did was cause him pain-- both physically and emotionally.

'And he loves me. A totally unique being, a vampire that can truly love, has fallen in love with me!'

There was also the fact that Spike was her equal, and had no problem with the fact that Buffy was stronger than he was. That was the way vampires and Slayers were. She was stronger, but he was faster, thus maintaining the balance and, whether she would admit it or not, he was a more skilled fighter than she was. She'd seen him fight many demons since his chip had been implanted and had picked up on at least a dozen fighting styles that he had never used in battle against her. She'd asked him about them and he'd simply shrugged it off, telling her, “Been 'round a bit longer than you 'ave pet... can't expect me not t' pick up a trick or two in me travels.”

Not long before Glory had appeared, he'd told her an unusual story that confirmed his point. She hadn't let on at the time that she thought it was quite funny, simply because of the situation he'd described. He had an odd ability to surprise her and come out with these little bits of information he'd accrued through his life, or unlife.

They'd been fighting a demon both of them were unfamiliar with, but two things had stuck out in her analysis of the creature within the first few seconds of the fight. The first was that this particular demon seemed to have a very potent alkaline or acidic liquid covering its skin, and the second was that it was very skilled with a sword. That had come as a bit of a shock to Buffy. 'Why the hell would an acid-covered demon need a sword, let alone know how to use it?!' But, equally shocking was Spike's ability with a sword.

While Buffy had been armed with a battle-axe, Spike had elected to take a Katana patrolling that night, which naturally made him the obvious choice to take on this particular opponent. Buffy's axe would have put her at a disadvantage while facing off against someone with that level of skill. And so, with Buffy watching from a short distance away, ready to step in if needed, Spike and the demon had faced off to the sound of ringing steel.

It had taken Spike at least fifteen minutes to finally defeat it. They had battled through the cemetery, each of them looking for the opening that would finish the fight. Spike found his first. His first move was a disarming strike, severing its hand cleanly at the wrist. Then, completing the down-stroke and rotating his body 180 degrees, Spike spun the blade in a full rotation, and buried it in the demon's gut, his back to it. To finish it, she now realised, with a flourish, he had twisted again, pulling the blade free and proceeded to swing it through a horizontal arc that decapitated it. It was quite the display of swordsmanship and, when pressed about it, Spike had simply shrugged but furnished her with an answer so implausible that it could actually be true.

“Told ya before pet, been around for a while now, and done a fair bit of travellin' round. Reckon I’ve seen the whole world at least twice.”

“That doesn't really explain those moves, Spike. I mean... you just went all kung-fu-ninja-bad-ass on him! C'mon spill!” Buffy had pressed.

Spike rolled his eyes as he picked a handful of leaves off a nearby tree and used them to clean the corrosive blood from his blade. “You seen that latest Star Wars movie? Episode I?”

“Yeah... Xander made us watch it on video night,” Buffy replied sceptically, not sure where he was going with this.

“Well, it just so happened that I ran into a bloke on my last trip to England by the name of Nick Gillard. He did all the fights with the Lightsabers in that movie... bloody brilliant, those were.”

Spike turned thoughtful a moment, tilting his head and looking over at Buffy questioningly. “D'ya reckon they'll ever make one? 'Cos it would make killing demons so much easier, y'know, for the nights when I can't be arsed for a proper fight.”

At Buffy's raised eyebrow he shrugged and continued on. “Anyway, seemed like a right decent fella, we got t' chatting... bought him a pint or three... Long story short... he showed me all seven of the styles that he'd come up with. Strengths, weaknesses, situations to use one or the other...the whole works.

“Don't reckon there's many people, or demons, that know how to counter 'em unless they're bloody clever, like ole Nick, so I figure, why not?”

Buffy didn't know what to say to that and had just stared at him as he returned his sword to its scabbard. She wasn't entirely sure if he was joking or not, and he hadn't acted like he was. Regardless... those moves were certainly no joke.

It was yet another thing that she had come to like about Spike. He was clearly intelligent and worldly wise, a lot like Angel in that regard, but unlike Angel, she never felt he had to talk down to her, or change the way he talked so that she could understand things. He didn't feel the need to change who he was when he was around her, and in turn she didn't feel that she needed to try to be something she wasn't. She'd always felt slightly inferior to Angel. She'd thought there was always a hint of condescension in his voice when he spoke to her, like a kind of patient acceptance in his tone, as if she couldn't fully appreciate the meaning behind what he was saying.

Not so with Spike. Whenever she'd actually let him talk to her, he didn't feel the need to put on airs with her, and they could just talk. Be it inane talk about demons, or, on the rare occasion that she would ask something historical or social that he had experienced, he'd never once spoken to her as anything but an equal, never shown any condescension just because she didn't have the same experiences he'd had.

'He talks to me, not at me. I bet I could learn so much from him, if I just let myself listen.'

Buffy was snapped out of her musing when her mother began speaking, and quickly focused her attention back on the present. This, of course, brought her crashing back to the reality of her situation: having to explain to her friends that she wanted to be with Spike, to try and build something solid with him, and that she was going to do this, with, or without, their permission.

Taking a quick look around the breakfast table, it appeared to her that she'd gotten away with her trip down memory lane and neither her mother nor sister were any the wiser that she'd zoned out.

“What time should we leave for the Magic Box, Buffy?”

Seeing as it was a Sunday, there would be no issue of people's work commitments, so Buffy had spread the word that she wanted everyone at the Magic Box by twelve o'clock. Her thinking being such that, if all went well, some of the day could be salvaged.

“I told everyone to be there at noon, so … about twenty or quarter to, I guess?”

“That should be fine. Is everyone going to be coming?”

“I think so, I told Willow to tell Tara, and Anya to tell Xander, and you told Giles, didn't you?”

Joyce nodded her head, having volunteered to speak to her watcher, so Buffy could avoid any interrogation as to the purpose of the meeting, and to allow Buffy and Spike more time alone together last night.

“Well then,” Joyce replied, “if that's the case, and we don't have to leave just yet, I’d like to go up and talk to Spike for a while.”

With that said, Joyce headed upstairs for a talk with Spike that she felt was overdue. With a soft knock on the door to her room and a clearly spoken, “Come in,” Joyce sat down next to Spike on her bed and smiled at the slowly healing vampire.

“I wanted to speak to you, Spike, before we left. Are you up to it, 'cos I can come back; it's nothing that won't keep to another day.”

“I'm okay, Joyce, promise. Wha' d'ya need?” Spike slowly eased himself into a sitting position, pushing the pillows as best he could so they were now supporting him as he leaned back against the headboard.

“I wanted to speak to you about the money that you told Buffy you were givi--” She stopped abruptly at Spike's raised hand and took in the hard, determined look he was giving her.

“S'already done, Joyce. No arguments, no discussion. You're having it, and you're gonna use it to make things a little easier 'round 'ere. Am I clear?” The tone in his voice clearly inferred that he was not amused, and the subject was not open to debate.

“Spike, I appreciate it but--” Again she was interrupted by the blond man on her bed.

“Stop. Listen. It's yours now. I want you to have it. I wasn't using it, haven't touched a penny or pound of it.” Spike steadied himself with a deep breath and softened his expression as he looked at the woman who had been the first to give him a chance in over a century.
“You read the letter, yeah?”

Joyce nodded in reply.

“Then you should know I meant what I wrote, Joyce. You've been the closest thing I’ve had to a mum in a hundred and twenty years. You honestly think I’m gonna give it to someone else, or leave it lying around in an account after I dust?

“You have it, use it, bloody hell, enjoy it! Use it for holidays somewhere nice, use it for Dawn and university, pay off the house, get a new car. I don't care as long as you have it and put it to good use! You're a millionaire now, and a pretty good one at that, if you take into account the exchange rate from pounds to dollars. Now, listen to your elder, and take it.”

He reached for her hands that were folded in her lap and gave them a squeeze.

“I want you to have it.” He spoke softly, his determination had faded into something more like a plea, like he was almost begging her now to take it.

Joyce could feel the tears begin to burn her eyes and she willed them not to fall. But Spike wasn't fooled for a second and pulled her into a one arm hug on his undamaged side. He spoke softly in her ear this time, the words still the same.

“I want you to have it.” Joyce noticed the subtle shift in his accent, morphing into something she guessed was more upper-class. English social classes and decorum was still something of a small mystery to her, but to her untrained ears, his words sounded more precise and spoken at a slower rate, allowing the pronunciation to come through very clearly. “I would be honoured for you to take it, and to put it to good use.”

Joyce pulled herself back and gave him a wan smile, just about the best she could manage under the circumstances. She let out a giggling sob and swiped at her eyes in embarrassment. She could barely take it all in. Sure, Buffy had told her that Spike was serious about the gift, but hearing it from him was something different. According to Spike, she was about to become a millionaire and she didn't quite know how to process it all.

It was a gift that she could never repay.

“Oh, one condition though,” Spike added as a smile came to his lips.

At Joyce's enquiring eyebrow, he continued, “If you blow through it all, you can't come asking me for more, 'cos that's all I got. So for the love of God, do not give either of them downstairs a credit card, yeah?”

Joyce's answering laugh was loud, strong and genuine. “Oh yes, you can be sure of that! I promise.”

“Right then, that's settled.”

“Thank you, Spike. Truly, thank you.”

With a nod and a smile, Spike felt a touch of warmth in his chest. Again she heard his accent slip into something more refined and elegant. “You're very welcome, Joyce.”

Joyce took a deep breath and swallowed back her tears, wiping at her eyes again as she recomposed herself. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, Spike. It's about today. Buffy's going to the Magic Box later and I’m going with her, but we're leaving Dawn here with you, do you think you could keep an eye on her while we're gone?”

Spike did his best to hide the trepidation he felt at those words. He knew what was going to happen today. He knew that Buffy was heading into the lion's den. He knew it was because of him, because of her choice to be with him, that she was having to tell her friends how she felt, and face the consequences.

Because of him.

He raged silently on the inside, cursing his broken body and the limitations placed on him by his vampiric status. He was not able to join her, not able to defend her in the face of her friends and their disapproval. Another failure on his part, smaller in scale to the one atop the tower, but a failure nonetheless. He could not be there for her.

The one thing he could draw hope from was that Joyce would be with Buffy and he knew, without any shadow of doubt in his mind, that if there was one person besides the Slayer that he would not want to piss off, it was Joyce Summers. He knew that when she needed to be, Joyce could call upon the maternal lioness inside her and, if the need arose, protect her child with the same ferocity.

He did not let any of this show on his face, however. It wouldn't do to invite too many questions, especially considering Joyce's talent at seeing through him and drawing the truth out of him, whether he wanted to tell her or not. So it was, with a forced smile on his face, he replied with as much enthusiasm as was appropriate.

“Sure I can, no problems there, me and the bit get on like a house on fire. She'll probably come up and read anyway.” He lowered his voice into a mock whisper. “I reckon she took your last warning about letting me rest to heart.”

Joyce gave Spike a relieved, appreciative smile. “Good, that was what I was hoping for! Anyway, once we're back, you can be relieved from your duties, but depending on how long this meeting takes, I don't know when we'll be finished.”

“Like I said, no worries. She'll be fine.”

“Thank you. Well, with that all dealt with, I’ll leave you to rest. Do you need anything while I’m here?”

“Not at the mo', thanks.”

Spike couldn't hold it in any longer, he needed to know that if nothing else, Joyce was prepared for what could possibly transpire at the meeting.

With a gentle pat to his hand, she stood and headed for the door, but stopped at the sound of his voice.

“Joyce?”

Turning on her heel, she waited, expectantly.

“It's gonna be nasty, innit? Today I mean, at the shop? They're all gonna get on her about me, aren't they?”

Joyce didn't know what he wanted to hear from her in reply. She had a suspicion that things could get ugly once Buffy had said her piece but didn't want Spike to feel like this was his fault, or that it could be helped, and she didn't want to lie to him either. In the end, she settled for something that she knew would go a long way to assuaging his worries.

“That's why I’m going to be there as well, Spike. And come hell or high water, I will not stand there and let them hurt or bully Buffy, just because they don't like or agree with her choices. On that, you have my word.”

The relief Spike felt at having his intuitions confirmed was palpable. Joyce would be there for her daughter, and that included the lioness. She was on their side, and that meant that maybe Spike's worries of her friends changing Buffy's mind would turn out to be unfounded. It was this knowledge, that Joyce was going to support Buffy in her choices regarding him, that finally let him give voice to something he needed to say to her.

Once again, Spike found himself slipping into the voice of his educated past, the voice very few people still alive knew he possessed.

“I promise you, Joyce, that I will be worthy of the trust that she's putting in me, and to love her with everything that I have, for as long as she'll have me. I will try every day, with all my heart, to be good enough for her.”

“I know you will, Spike... … ... I know you will.”

With a parting smile, she made her way back downstairs to clear away the breakfast things and talk to Dawn before they left.

()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()

Spike had obviously fallen asleep after his visit from Joyce because the next thing he knew, he was woken by Buffy's soft voice on the other side of the door.

“Come in, pet, I’m awake.”

The door eased open and in she walked. Spike couldn't take his eyes away from her as she made her way to the chair by the bed. He shifted his position slightly. Having not planned on falling asleep propped up against the headboard, his lower back was less than happy with his current stance. But even his current discomfort couldn't stop the smile that came to his lips when her eyes met his.

“I just wanted to talk, before we left.” Buffy took a breath, trying to calm the nerves that were already threatening to overwhelm her. She almost forgot that she was going to see her friends, what with the nervous wasps currently trying to find a way to escape her stomach. At least, that was what it felt like to her. Talking with friends shouldn't make someone feel like this, she thought. For all intents and purposes, the news she had to share with them should have been good. She'd found someone that could make her happy, at least that was what she hoped, and someone to share her life with, both halves, the Slayer and the woman. What was wrong with that, and why, if this was what she wanted, did she feel so anxious?

'Well, that's easy... some of my friends are hypocritical and self righteous. They want me to be happy, just as long as it's on their terms and whatever choices I make meet their approval.'

Buffy tried to shake off her nerves, or at least control them so they didn't derail her thought train again. She gave Spike what she hoped was a reassuring smile and re-focused her mind back to the present. “I just wanted to tell you something, Spike. No matter what happens today, no matter what they say, or how they feel, I will not let them make my choices for me anymore. You're my choice, and mine alone. They can't change that, OK?”

“Buffy... … I know how much your friends mean to you, pet. I love you, you know that, and that's not gonna change...ever. But I want you to know, now, that... if... if things get... too hard.... I’ll.... … I’ll understand... y'know … if you change your mind.” He quickly carried on when it looked like she was going to protest. “I don't want you to, yeah? I LOVE YOU, but, I’ll understand, if... … if.... you decide I’m not worth the trouble. It's OK to think that. Not saying I’ll be jumping for joy, but I’d understand, pet. I’ll still be here for ya, won't leave, just 'cos I didn't get m' way. Not made that way, luv. I’ll stay, if you want me to.... watch yer back, help where I can. You make the decisions, and I’ll abide by them.”

Buffy's lips were wobbling and the tears were already down to her jaw by the time he was finished.
It was all she could do to stop the sob that threatened to fall from her lips. She didn't know what to say, she couldn't take the sad acceptance in his voice and eyes as he'd spoken. Seeking to reassure him as best she could, she did the only thing her brain was capable of processing. She kissed him.

Slowly, softly, deeply, she kissed him.

Breathing in through her nose, she drew it out, not wanting to sever the connection, wanting him to take the full meaning behind this kiss. Hoping he'd figure it out. 'I’m coming back, Spike, I swear.'

“BUFFY?”

Their moment was broken. Joyce's voice carrying up the stairs brought them back to the world around them.

“BUFFY, ARE YOU READY? IT'S TIME TO LEAVE.”

“I'M COMING, MOM.”

Pressing her forehead to his, she pecked him lightly on the side of his mouth and pulled back, smiling as best she could, considering moments ago she was in tears.

“I'm coming back to you, Spike... … … I’m coming back. Promise.”


Chapter End Notes:
Shout outs have to go to the brilliant P4S for helping me with this chapter, encouraging me to try something new and letting me find my way. Secondly A thank you has to be given to the wonderful PaganBaby for her beautiful banner that she made for me. Thanks PB, Love it! :) And finally a big thank you has to go out to the people who have reviewed my story. I truly appreciate each and every one, so, Thank you.



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