Chapter 21: Late January 2006
“I really appreciate you doing this, Wesley,” Buffy said sincerely. She glanced out the window of her car, and then back over at the driver. “I do a lot better on the driving-front these days, but I’m still not used to L.A. traffic.”
Wesley smiled in reply. “I don’t mind, Buffy. I probably know my way around a little better than you do as well.”
“That’s for sure,” she said, looking at the next address on the list. “With the offerings I’ve seen so far, I’m beginning to seriously reconsider this move though.”
Her one-time Watcher gave her an encouraging smile. “It does take some looking, but I’m sure you’ll find something that suits, Buffy.” He paused. “You know, I could use your help with something.”
“Demon to slay, evil to face, vamp to kill?” she asked facetiously.
Somehow Wesley didn’t find Buffy’s quips nearly as annoying as he had the first time they’d met. “Actually, no. I was thinking more along the lines of finding an engagement ring.”
Buffy gave him a surprised look. “You’re going to ask Nika to marry you?”
“No, I like to keep a spare ring around, just in case,” Wesley replied sarcastically.
The Slayer mock-winced in appreciation. “Oooh, Wesley, sharpening that wit?”
“I had a good teacher,” he said softly.
“Spike?” At his nod, and the look in his eyes, Buffy added softly, “And Cordelia.”
“Yes,” Wesley admitted quietly. “She was a very good teacher.” He paused as he realized how that might sound. “In the realm of sarcasm,” he added quickly.
Buffy smirked. “Like I’d think it was anything else,” she teased. When Wesley shot her a dirty look, she giggled, and noticed that he couldn’t help but smile in return. She also thought that the smile made a huge improvement in his appearance. Of course, five—six?—years had also made a huge improvement in the whole package, in her estimation.
“Very funny,” he replied, but he was smiling slightly. “But back to the ring—I’ve already asked Nika to marry me actually. It sort of slipped out. I’d like to make it official, however.”
“And you want me to help you look for a ring?” Buffy asked doubtfully. “That’s kind of personal, Wes. I mean, I don’t know Nika all that well.”
“That’s what I told Spike about helping someone look for a place to live,” he said.
Buffy smiled and rolled her eyes. “Spike put you up to this?” she asked. “He always could get a little overprotective.”
Wesley smiled in reply, not denying her impression. “I just want a second opinion.”
“A woman’s opinion,” she supplied, and then shrugged. “Sure, I don’t mind. As long as you don’t blame me if she doesn’t like it.”
“I promise not to hold you accountable for her reaction,” he assured her.
Buffy nodded. “Okay, one more place on the list, and then we can call it a day.”
As it usually happened, the last place on the list was the one Buffy liked the most. “This is perfect.”
Wesley stood in the doorway, looking over at the real estate agent in charge of the property. The agent was obviously getting dollar signs in her eyes at the sight of the young blonde woman, and Wesley cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Buffy. I’m not sure this is what you really wanted. The price is rather high for a three bedroom flat.”
“It’s a townhome,” the agent corrected him, giving him an annoyed, and slightly superior look. “And the price is a good one for a property like this.”
It was too late, however. Buffy had already caught on to Wesley’s game. “Do you really think so, Wes?” she said, a little breathlessly. Wesley had to stifle a chuckle at the utter guilelessness of her voice. He had to wonder how many vampires—including his current partner—had been taken in by her blonde beauty and led to believe she was harmless. He watched as she turned back to the agent. “I never make a decision without consulting my cousin,” she gushed. “He’s a genius with numbers.”
The agent was getting a distinctly sour expression. “Yes, well, we can talk about the price, of course. We wouldn’t want anyone to leave dissatisfied.”
~~~~~
Buffy was giggling as they drove away from the townhome. “Why on earth did you say I was your cousin?” Wesley asked, though not without a certain amount of humor in his own voice.
“It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” Buffy said, pulling herself under control. “Besides, it’s not like you could pass for my brother, and I wasn’t going to say you were my boyfriend.”
“Cousin does seem like a reasonable alternative,” he admitted with a reluctant smile. “I take it you’re selling the house in Sunnydale.”
Buffy nodded, sobering quickly. “I thought about renting it, but then I’d have to either play landlord or have someone there do it. I talked to an agent, and he seemed to think he could get me a good deal on the house. Enough to take care of the rest of the mortgage and have a little left over, you know? Property values have been going up in Sunnydale for the past couple years.” Buffy smiled ruefully. “Listen to me talking about the prices of housing. My mom would be so proud of me.”
“I really think she would be, Buffy,” Wesley said quietly.
She gave him a grateful look. “So anyway, looks like I’ll be renting a townhome, thanks to you. What about looking for a ring for your girlfriend?”
~~~~~
Spike lounged on his couch, letting the noise from the TV wash over him. He’d been feeling rather glum the past couple of weeks, ever since the Slayer had inadvertently revealed her feelings for him. As Wesley had suggested, it was what he wanted, it just wasn’t the way he wanted to find out.
Besides, their tentative relationship felt strained. Spike knew it was partly his fault; Buffy certainly hadn’t pulled back or withdrawn. In fact, she had been calling at least a couple of times a week, updating him on her moving plans. He’d let her talk, asked a few questions about how other things were going, and then had let the conversation die.
He was a bleedin’ coward, was what he was.
Spike couldn’t seem to sort out his own emotions. Yes, he was still in love with Buffy. He always would be. Every time he thought about her, however, her words would echo back at him. “You’re beneath me…There’s nothing good in you…I’ll never be your girl.” Spike thought that he’d managed to forgive her, that he’d left Sunnydale not only because of what she’d done to him, but because he’d caught a glimpse of their future.
He wasn’t so sure anymore, neither about his reasons for leaving nor about whether or not he’d really forgiven Buffy. Was it true forgiveness when you couldn’t forget, but you wanted to? When you wanted to trust, but couldn’t?
Spike honestly didn’t have the foggiest—he was a vampire. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about forgiveness or redemption, nor was he supposed to care.
There were days when he really wished he was still evil.
“William?” Spike glanced up from the TV he hadn’t been watching to see Enid standing next to him. She was the only one who called him by his given name. Spike somehow didn’t mind when she used it.
“H’lo. Get back from your shopping trip already, luv?” he asked, flipping the television off.
She smiled and sank down next to him gratefully. “Indeed. I wanted to get an engagement present for Wesley and Danika before I had to leave.”
“You sure you can’t stay?” he asked, half-seriously. “‘s been nice havin’ you here.”
Enid smiled at the vampire in return. “Thank you, but no, I don’t believe I can stay just yet. However,” she added, smiling, “I have a feeling that I will be ready for retirement when Nika makes me a great-grandmother. I may find myself in L.A. permanently then.”
Spike smiled in return. “That would be grand, Enid. I think both of them would appreciate it.”
“And what about you?” she asked quietly. Enid had noticed Spike’s growing gloom over the past couple weeks, and had labeled the Slayer as the cause, though Buffy was most likely completely unaware of her role in his mood. “What would it take to make your life grand?”
Spike frowned, not quite comprehending the question. “I don’t—”
“You have been gloomy for days,” Enid stated. “Ever since Buffy was here and you heard her tell Danika how she felt about you. Tell me why.”
Spike shrugged. “No reason. Just a bit out of sorts, is all. Doesn’t matter, really.”
“Doesn’t it?” Enid asked with a sigh. “Tell me about how you met. Your first thoughts when you saw her.”
A baffled look crossed the vampire’s face, and then he shrugged. It seemed that the person he had been so many years ago kept re-emerging every so often, and a gentleman did not deny a request from a lady, not when he could fulfill it. “It was back a while,” he said. When I was evil.” Spike smiled a little. “Or when I was more evil, anyway.Took Dru—my sire—to the Hellmouth. She was weak, an’ I thought it would help her.”
Spike closed his eyes at the memory. “Heard there was a Slayer in town, an’ I was gonna kill her, yeah? It was what I did. I’d killed two of ’em before, didn’t think a third would be a problem. I showed up at this club all the young ones went to, an’ I saw her there, dancin’ with her friends. I knew who she was immediately—was like her blood sang to me. She was bloody brilliant—full of life, an’ I wanted her. I wanted her dead, of course, but for a minute I thought it would be a waste to kill her—just for a minute.”
Enid nodded, careful not to disturb the spell that Spike had cast over himself, delving deeply into old memories. This was an exercise she had used before to help people connect with the truth of their feelings. It needed to be done subtly with Spike, as she didn’t think he would go where he needed to willingly. She needed to bring him to the crux of the matter with care. “What happened?” she asked softly.
“Went to kill her at one of those parent nights they have at school,” Spike said with a small smile. “Almost had her till her mum came up behind me an’ hit me over the head with an ax. She was some lady.”
“She sounds like it,” Enid agreed, moving in to peel away another layer. “When did you know you loved her?”
“Had this dream,” Spike replied. “Dreamt she was goin’ to kill me, an’ then we ended up shaggin’.”
Enid let out a breath. “But when did you know you really loved her? When did you call yourself hopelessly hers?”
Spike tried to remember. The dream had been an epiphany, but he still hadn’t been happy about it. When had he realized that it was impossible to fight against his fate? “I tried to kill her,” he remembered out loud. “She—she wanted me to tell her how I killed the other Slayers, so I told her the truth, an’ it pissed her off. Think she might have suspected how I felt then, even if she didn’t admit to it. She said I was beneath her—” Spike broke off, remembering the raw pain those words had inflicted. He’d wanted to cry, there in that alley. The Big Bad had fought back tears.
Spike had hated her for that as much as for what she’d said.
“I got a shotgun, an’ I was goin’ to kill her, chip be damned,” he said. “An’ there she was, on her back steps, cryin’. Her mum was sick, an’ I knew. I knew I’d be dust before I let anythin’ happen to her.”
“Tell me about why you left,” Enid said softly. “Tell me about the night that made you go.”
Spike’s face twisted with the memory. “It wasn’t her fists,” he said softly. “I’d had those before, an’ I didn’t mind so much. It wasn’t even her words.” He swallowed hard. “She was right, I s’pose, an’ I knew she was talkin’ as much about herself as about me.” The silence seemed stark when he paused. “But she left me there. She didn’t even—she didn’t even check the next day to make sure I made it back to my crypt, because I almost didn’t. I waited. I thought, if she checks, I won’t leave. An’ then I started packin’.”
“I wouldn’t have minded her killin’ me,” Spike said earnestly, after a moment’s pause. “I didn’t leave because I was afraid to die for her. I was afraid I’d end up killin’ her instead, that every bit of love I felt for her would die, after I’d kept it alive for her all that summer she was gone.”
Enid watched as he scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, like a little boy trying not to cry. “Ah, William,” she murmured, pulling the vampire into her arms. He shook with silent sobs, and she merely did for him as she had done for her granddaughter for so many years—rubbed gentle circles on his back and murmured meaningless words of comfort. “There now, lad. Tell me why you are so afraid.”
It was a measure of Spike’s mental state that he didn’t even bother denying his fear. “Can’t live with losing her again. Couldn’t handle her walkin’ away again. I don’t want to see her back, not again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”
“We must take risks in order to truly live, William,” Enid said softly. “You love too well, my lad. You hold nothing back until there is nothing left. I think this time you must wait for the girl to come to you.”
Spike didn’t look up. Somehow he didn’t feel ashamed of his outburst, but he didn’t think he wanted to show Enid proof of his tears. Somehow having her hold him reminded him of his mother’s arms, of Joyce who had been kind, of Nika who had given him his first glimpse of peace. “Patience was never one of my virtues,” he replied.
She laughed. “Then perhaps it is time you learn.”
There was a long pause. “Thanks, luv.”
“Anytime, William.” Enid smiled. “And call me nain.”
~~~~~
If anyone had ever told Buffy that she would one day be helping Wesley Wyndam-Pryce pick out an engagement to give to his girlfriend, she would have checked them into the nearest psychiatric ward. At the very least, she would have asked them what they were smoking. It just went to show how much things could change.
Buffy trailed him over to the case with all the wedding rings and watched in amusement as he stared at the offerings. He looked as serious poring over the rings as he did over some dusty old book. “You know, Wes, you could always get something really simple and then bring Nika back here later to pick out something different.”
Wesley shook his head stubbornly. “I want to do this myself.”
“Okay,” Buffy said cheerfully, thinking it was almost cute, the way he was taking this so seriously.
A salesman came over to greet them as soon as he had determined that they were seriously looking and weren’t going to waste his time. “May I help you find something?”
“I’m looking for an engagement ring,” Wesley replied.
The man smiled and looked over at Buffy. “Of course. Is there something specific you were looking for?”
Wesley and Buffy got identical horror-struck expressions on their faces. “Oh, no,” Buffy said quickly. “I mean, we’re not—I’m just here to—”
“She’s my cousin,” Wesley lied smoothly. “She’s here for moral support.”
The man smiled. “Certainly. Well, perhaps I can pull something out for you to look at and you’ll see something that strikes your fancy.” He reached into the case to pull out a tray of gaudy rings.
“I don’t think so,” Buffy said decisively. “Nika isn’t the type to wear something that big. She’d probably want something unobtrusive.”
Wesley nodded. “Yes, of course, you’re right. Do you have anything like that?”
The man sighed, seeing a large sale go out the window. “Of course.”
They spent the next half hour looking at rings, either Buffy or Wesley rejecting each ring for some odd reason. While Buffy didn’t know Nika all that well, she had gotten a feel for the other woman, and had a pretty good idea of what she wouldn’t like. Wesley, on the other hand, was shaking his head because they weren’t something she would like.
The salesman was obviously getting a little frustrated. “Perhaps you’d like to bring your fiancé in and she could pick out a ring herself.”
Wesley shook his head. “No, I’d like to do this.”
“May I ask what she does?”
“What she does?” Wesley repeated.
Buffy smiled. “He means what Nika does for a living.” Turning to the salesman, she said, “She’s a midwife and an EMT.”
A look of relief crossed the man’s face. “I have the perfect ring.”
Wesley glanced over at the Slayer, who shrugged. The man came out with a different tray and pulled out a simple gold band that had diamonds channel-set all the way around. “Medical personnel in general prefer a ring like this, or a simple band,” the man explained. “There’s nothing to catch on surgical gloves, so she will not be required to take it off on a regular basis.”
The ring was simple, but very pretty, and both Wesley and Buffy found themselves nodding. “That’s the one,” the ex-Watcher said with a sigh of relief. “It’s perfect.”
The purchase was made in a matter of minutes, and Buffy thought that the man might have made his relief to see the last of them a little less obvious, which she was quick to comment on as they left the store.
Wesley shrugged, patting the pocket where he’d stuck the black velvet box, happy just to be done. “It doesn’t matter.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed in thought. Wesley was in an amiable enough mood, she thought she might have a shot at getting him to do her a tiny little favor. “Would you do something for me, Wes?”
Wesley had been too well-trained as a Watcher to fall into that trap. Well, that and Cordelia had gotten the exact same tone of voice when she wanted something that he wasn’t going to be happy about giving her. “That would depend on what it is.”
“Do you have a vamp nest you need cleaned out, or a demon to kill, or something like that?”
Wesley was a little startled. “I thought you were retired.”
“I am,” Buffy replied stiffly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t slay as an extracurricular activity. I just thought if you had a job that needed doing, you could let me do it, and then you would be free to take Nika out. You know, I could give you a break.”
Wesley wasn’t completely dense. (Even if there were those who would argue with that assessment.) “What about Spike?”
“Huh?” Buffy asked, as innocently as possible. “Oh, well, Spike could come too. It would be like old times.”
“I see,” Wesley said, keeping his voice as toneless as possible. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a date, perhaps?”
“A date?” Buffy asked. “Of course not. I mean, we’re just friends, and—” She stopped and sighed. “Fine, it’s a date, but I’d like it to be a surprise, you know?”
Wesley considered for a moment. He had received a call earlier that day about a vampire nest that needed to be cleaned out. The pay would be minimal, but he had the feeling that Buffy didn’t mind that. “There is a nest that I was planning to have Spike help me clean out,” he conceded. “I don’t see why you and he couldn’t go instead. But is it wise in your condition?”
“Fragile isn’t an adjective that goes with Slayer, Wesley,” Buffy reminded him sharply. “Not even a pregnant one, and not one who’s only a few months along.”
Wesley cleared his throat. “Of course. How silly of me to be concerned for your well-being.”
Buffy shot him a glare, which soon softened into a smile. “You know, I kind of like the sarcasm on you. It’s refreshing.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Buffy, do you think taking Spike hunting is the best idea? Perhaps a nice dinner, or—”
“Spike?” Buffy asked incredulously. “Spike loves a good hunt.”
Wesley had to concede her point. “But if the two of you are starting over, maybe it’s time to create a new tradition.”
Buffy thought about the last “date” that had included a stakeout, and wondered if Wesley might not be right. On the other hand, Spike loved a good fight, and Buffy loved fighting with him. Well, not with him anymore, but definitely by his side. “Maybe,” she replied, pulling her coat closer around her. “But not right now. I think we have to deal with the past first.”
Wesley nodded. “Then I’ll give you the address of the nest. If you feel up to it, you could do it tonight.”
“Sure thing,” Buffy said cheerfully, giving Wesley a sly look. “I think that ring is burning a hole in your pocket anyway.”
~~~~~
Spike knew something was up when Wesley informed him that Buffy had volunteered to take over his spot on clearing out a nest. Spike probably could have handled it himself, but his partner was insistent about taking Buffy. “What’s this really about, mate?” Spike finally demanded after going around a few times. He was emotionally exhausted from his trip down memory lane earlier, and he really had no desire to see Buffy until he could get himself sorted out.
“I bought a ring today,” Wesley admitted in a low voice. They were down in the basement, and Nika was upstairs, but the walls were thin, and Wesley didn’t want to give his surprise away.
Understanding dawned, and Spike nodded, immediately backing off. “Right then,” he said. “I’ll take care of this nest with the Slayer, give you two some time to yourselves. Been a bit hectic ’round here lately anyway.”
Wesley breathed a sigh, thankful that Spike could be quite accomodating when he wanted to be. “Thank you, Spike. I appreciate that. You’ll be fine going with Buffy then?”
Spike managed a smile. “Sure. Be just like old times.”
It was a little too like old times for the vampire’s comfort. Of course, they were in Buffy’s Jeep instead of the DeSoto, and the Slayer wasn’t impatient to be away, but Spike was getting an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. That sense was heightened when Buffy reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a flask. He refused the drink regretfully. “Better not, luv. Should be sharp for this one.”
“Later then,” she insisted, waiting until he’d taken the silver flask from her hand and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
“Buffy—” Spike began.
She shook her head. “Later, Spike. I think now might be a really good time to clear that nest out.”
Spike watched as two more vampires showed up. That put the count up to ten, which was about as many as he wanted to handle with the Slayer, especially with her pregnant. “Let’s do this then.”
He hadn’t been in battle with the Slayer since long before he left Sunnydale. Other than the first few weeks since she’d been back, Buffy hadn’t wanted his company on patrol. He’d mostly just waited for her to come to him, or he had followed her around. It was amazing—it was like no time had passed, as if nothing had changed.
They were as perfectly synchronized as they had ever been, perhaps better, since they were both more concerned for their partner’s well-being than they had been in the past. Spike was concerned because the Slayer was carrying a child; Buffy was worried because Spike wasn’t a hundred percent with that injured leg.
So they fought side by side and back to back, keeping a tight orbit around each other when the ten vampires were dusted and an additional four who had appeared from out of nowhere. When it was over, they were both covered in vamp dust and grinning from ear to ear.
Then Spike met Buffy’s eyes, and his grin faded. “Well, that was fun,” Buffy said cheerfully.
“That it was,” the vampire agreed, looking around to make sure they hadn’t left anyone unalive and that he wasn’t missing a stash of valuables.
“Spike?” Buffy waited until he turned to face her. “Why do you keep avoiding me?”
He blinked. “I’m not avoidin’ you, Slayer. I’m here, right?”
“You’re here because Wesley asked you to come,” Buffy pointed out. “And because I asked him to let me do this.”
Spike wouldn’t meet her eyes. “So, you’ve got me where you want me, Slayer. What do you want?”
“I—I don’t know,” Buffy faltered. “I guess I just wanted to get a chance to talk. I thought it would be, like, a date.” She trailed off. It wasn’t a bad idea, but their last “date” had ended rather disastrously. “Spike—”
He shook his head, moving towards the door. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, pet.”
“Spike, wait!” Buffy called. “Please, can we just talk?”
“Talk about what, Buffy?” he demanded. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“You! You dumbass,” she cried. “I just want you.”
He stared at her, his expression a mixture of anguish and hope. “Until when? Until you get tired of me? Until I tell you somethin’ you don’t want to hear? I can’t do this again, Slayer. I can’t—”
Buffy watched as Spike broke off and turned his back to her. She could see him trembling from where she stood, and she wanted nothing more than to go to him. “This isn’t about me needing you to feel,” she said quietly. “It’s not about breaking up with Peter, or being pregnant, or even wanting a boyfriend. This is just about us.”
When Spike still wouldn’t look at her, Buffy knew it was time to pull out all the stops. “I love you.”
“Then why did you walk away?” he asked. “How the bloody hell are we goin’ to avoid killin’ each other when I’m not even sure what went wrong in the first place? Why, Slayer? Why did you show me your back, because I can’t survive another round of this.”
Buffy sighed. This was harder than she thought it was going to be. There was a large part of her that had believed that if only she could say those three magic words, all would be forgiven and they’d live happily ever after. She found a relatively clean crate and sat down. “I don’t know, Spike.” She stared at him. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry for what I did. I was wrong. I hated myself, and I hated you for loving me. I hated being alive. You want to know what’s different? Well, most of that no longer applies. I don’t hate myself, I don’t hate you, and I’m actually enjoying being alive.”
Spike was frozen with indecision. Enid had advised him to wait until Buffy came to him of her own accord, and here she was—her proverbial hand extended. If he didn’t risk it now, if he let her go again, wouldn’t that be just as bad as her not wanting to admit that there was anything between them?
He sat down gingerly beside her, the silence palpable. “I still love you, Buffy,” he admitted in a low voice. “Just don’t know if I can trust you.”
Buffy nodded, forcing back tears. “That’s fair. If I were you, I probably wouldn’t trust me either.”
“But I want to,” he said, looking over at her with quiet intensity. “I want to be able to trust you.”
“Okay.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Huh?”
Spike looked amused. “About us,” he clarified. “Think we should take it slow, ease back into it like. I need some time—time to know…”
“That I’m not going to start treating you like shit again.” Buffy winced, knowing the truth behind that fear. It wasn’t Spike being paranoid.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But I thought maybe, if you were hungry, we could get somethin’ to eat. Or go back to the house an’ get somethin’, maybe watch a movie.”
She smiled. “Like a date?”
“Like a continuation.” He brushed her hair back from her face, letting the silky strands fall over his fingers.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, luv?”
“I meant it, you know.” Buffy reached up and took his hand, entwining his fingers with hers. “I do love you. I just don’t know what that’s going to look like for us yet.”
He smiled, and then suddenly got a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “So you’re finally admitting there is an ‘us’, Slayer?”
“There’s always been an us,” Buffy said softly. She stood and held out a hand to pull him to his feet, noticing that he was still favoring his right leg. The Slayer frowned thoughtfully, plans for a pampering session in mind. She had a shot at this—they could make this work.
Spike took the Slayer’s offer of support and leaned in on her as they made their way back to the car. He felt more secure now, knowing what it was that she wanted. He felt a smile curve his lips. She wanted him.
He tightened his grip possessively. It seemed that they were finally seeing eye to eye.