Chapter 14: To Have and to lose
Anya raised her eyes from the column of numbers as Dawn came back from the back room. The figures were good. More than good. The word had been out that a magic battle had taken place in the shop, and new customers were coming in, drawn by the rumor. Most of them left with a little something.
The teen girl shook her head as she saw Anya looking at her.
“She refuses to stop. She is exhausted, but she just keeps pummeling that dummy as if her life depends on it.”
Buffy had arrived and started training soon after Anya opened the shop in the morning, and it was now the middle of the afternoon. She hadn’t taken a break for more than a couple of minutes at a time.
“Do you have any idea of what’s wrong with her?” Anya asked thoughtfully.
Since her little talk with Spike at the Bronze, she had realized that she sincerely cared for all the gang. Sure, they were annoying at times, but they were her friends.
“She went out with Spike last night,” Dawn answered hesitantly. “I know she wanted to tell him. stuff. But she refused to tell me how it went.”
Anya frowned as she tilted her head. What “stuff” was Dawn talking about?
“I was looking through the window when they came back,” she continued, her voice getting low. “I saw them kiss and hug and then he practically ran away.”
Love trouble then? That was something Anya could deal with. Centuries could come and go, men would always find ways to hurt women. That much, she knew intimately.
“I’ll go talk to her. Watch the shop, OK? And just so you know, I counted the money.”
The grin she gave Dawn made her last words teasing, and the teen smiled back, acknowledging it was a joke. Well, it was mostly a joke. She really knew up to the last penny how much money was in the cash register. And Dawn had better not fall back into her old habits. Not that Anya thought she would, but just in case.
The vengeance demon observed the Slayer for a few minutes. She had moved to the punching bag, and was beating it with all her might. Coming closer, Anya asked, casually:
“Do you want to talk?”
She had noticed the long talk Giles and Buffy had had since his return, and she would have bet all the money in the register that what they discussed had little to do with slaying. She also had no doubt that, had the Watcher been there right now, Buffy would have been talking with him. Maybe they could try to call him again? They had tried earlier, but had no luck reaching him.
“No. I. Have. Nothing. To. Say.”
Each word was muttered by Buffy as she landed powerful blows.
Yes, this definitely was love trouble if Anya had ever seen it.
“Alright. I will talk then. You can listen. Xander and me have been doing much better, thank you for asking. I think he’ll ask me to move in with him again soon. I’ll say yes when he does. And it’s all thanks to Spike.”
Buffy froze at the name, just as Anya had thought she would. Her fists fell by the sides of her body, and she looked at Anya questioningly. Perspiration beaded heavily on her face. Her voice was raucous when she asked: “What do you mean?”
“Well, I will only tell you if you promise not to tell anyone. Ever. Especially not Xander.”
Buffy nodded, and Anya carried on. “I granted Spike a wish. A couple of them, actually. And he wished for me and Xander to be together again.”
Under Buffy’s stare, Anya almost felt uneasy, and had the sudden desire to justify herself. “I could have refused to grant it, but the way he worded it… it would only have worked if Xander wanted it. And I wanted it too. That was just an opportunity I couldn’t miss.”
Buffy shook her head, the faintest smile on her lips.
“That’s cool, Anya. I’m glad for you two.”
She resumed her punching, though with less force, and stopped after only a few seconds. “You said you gave him two wishes? Was the other one. did it concern me?”
“Well, no, it didn’t. He wished for Willow to be better.”
Anya had thought that telling Buffy how nice Spike had been to them would please her. She had not expected the Slayer to start crying.
“Buffy? What’s wrong?”
“He doesn’t love me anymore.”
This was the time when Anya was supposed to give her little speech about men, and get a nice wish out of the scorned woman. But this time, it was different. She knew them both, she could see they loved each other, so where was the problem? Awkwardly, she hugged Buffy, patting her back gently.
“He loves you,” she said softly. “He told me he does.”
If anything, the words made Buffy cry harder. “Then why did he push me away?”
“I don’t know, what did he say exactly?”
As she pulled away from Anya, Buffy seemed to try to stop her sobbing. “He said. He said I deserve better than him. And he said it’s not him I love, just the soul.”
Fishing out a handkerchief from her jeans pocket, Anya offered it to Buffy, who dabbed at her eyes. These humans and their stupid soul prejudices.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you love him for his soul?”
The Slayer looked taken aback by the question. “Of course not!” She protested. “I love him. And I did before he had that damn soul!”
Anya nodded pensively. “Then you need to make him understand that.”
She wrapped an arm around Buffy, pulling her toward the door.
“I think I can help you. If you want my help, that is.”
That wasn’t exactly in her vengeance demon obligations. As a matter of fact, the last few wishes she had granted could land her in serious trouble. Maybe even make her lose her powers, all over again. She had thought about it after that night at the Bronze, had wondered what it would be like to become a human again. She wasn’t sure she wanted it, wasn’t sure she was ready for it. But still, she would risk it. Because that was the kind of things you did for your friends, wasn’t it?
After her third unanswered knock on the door, Buffy gave up and used the key of the apartment he had given her. She had almost refused it, finally accepting it while promising him and herself she would only use it in case of emergency. This qualified as an emergency.
She slipped in the dark apartment in silence, locking the door back behind her, quickly surveying the living room. And the kitchen. Nope, not there. Bedroom? Yes, there he was. On the bed, eyes closed, but she would have sworn he wasn’t sleeping.
“Spike. Get dressed. We have to talk.”
“Why? I said all I had to say. You deserve someone better so just go and find the lucky bloke.”
She walked in the room, hands on her hips, staring down at him.
“Don’t you play your Angel act to me again or I swear I’ll dust you!”
His eyes shot open when she said Angel’s name, and gold flecks danced in the blue pools as he glared at her.
“I told you, Slayer, don’t.”
“Oh, just shut up for once. Whether you like it or not, whether you believe it or not, I’m going to say it again. I love you. And you can deny it all you want, I know you love me too.”
He sat straight, leaning against the bedpost, pulling the sheet so that it covered him up to the waist.
“You say you love me but it’s the soul you love. And I’m not just a soul. I’m a lot more than that.”
“I know that, Spike,” she said gently, kneeling on the bed next to him. “Just tell me. At this second, do you love me?”
He gave her a sad laugh, and kept quiet for a long moment. Finally, he said solemnly, looking straight in her eyes: “I love you, pet. With all my soul. And that’s the problem. I love you too much to let you lose your time with me.”
She shook her head, her eyes getting wet from tears, and smiled brightly.
“Then there’s no problem, Spike. Because at this very second, you do not have a soul.”
Spike stared at her, not understanding what she meant. Not daring to understand.
“Buffy.? What the hell are you talking about?”
She cupped his head between her small hands, and he could feel her shaking slightly.
“You do not have a soul. Anya granted me a wish.”
His eyes widened, and he wasn’t sure if it was in terror or delight. “You wished me to be soulless again?”
“Yes and no. Just for an hour. Just to prove my point. To show you that you are the same man with or without a soul. And I am in love with this man. Soul or no soul.”
Just for an hour.
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled, angry. “I could have gotten all bad again and…”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” she interrupted. “And unless I’m completely mistaken, you did not even realize you were sans soul until I told you. Am I right or what?”
His mouth opened but produced no sound. Yes, she was right. Now that she mentioned it, a few moments ago he had felt… weird. But that had been all. He wasn’t feeling any different. Some of his guilt had faded a little, but most of it was still there. What did this mean? It just wasn’t possible, the demon girl must have made a mistake.
“Anya is sure it worked,” Buffy said softly, and he realized he had spoken out loud. “Spike, you see it now, don’t you? You’re the same. I don’t know what it means. I just know I love you. I have been in love with you for a while, I just couldn’t tell you. I was scared of falling in love with a vampire all over again. But it’s ok now. I’ve accepted it. Not because you have a soul. Not because you’re like him. I know you’re not him. You’re nothing like him. And I love you for who you are. So I won’t let you walk away from me.”
His eyes were looking into hers, searching, trying to find the truth. Whatever he saw made him smile. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to him, holding her tight. She accepted his embrace for a few seconds, then pulled away, and said very quietly: “I can wish your soul to be gone permanently and Anya will grant it. I will do it if that’s what you want.”
If he had not been already dead, he probably would have gotten a heart attack by now. He heard the shock in his own voice when he asked: “You would do that? Why?”
“So that you will believe me when I say I trust you. And love you. And will send you to hell if you don’t kiss me right now. Cross that. If you don’t shag me right now.”
He blinked a couple of times, and finally understood. Almost since he had returned, she had been trying to tell him that his soul made little difference in who he was. And she really loved who he was.
The Slayer loved him.
Bloody heaven.
“I won’t shag you, luv,” he said teasingly, enjoying the little pout that appeared on her lips. “I will make love to you.”