Chapter 43: Angels and Chocolate
“You were ready to give up your redemption.”
They were walking back toward Revello, fingers entwined, when Buffy suddenly let out these words, half question, half puzzled statement. Spike looked at her sideways, wondering why she hadn’t commented on that earlier, and why she was doing so now.
“I was”, he replied simply, and received a light frown in return.
“You don’t care about it anymore?” she asked. “When you were human, you wanted to make up for… before. And just a few hours ago you were going to add to the numbers.”
“I suppose that not having a soul to torture me over it made things easier”, he tried to joke.
She didn’t seem to find any humor in it, however, and said so explicitly. That sobered him, and when he spoke again his voice was a quiet murmur.
“I am still a demon, pet”, he tried to explain. “Feeling unnatural guilt doesn’t change that. I still remember what it is like to feed off humans, and I still crave it. You know why I became a white hat. I never made a secret that it was because of you, for you, and no other reason. Being human… well, that added another incentive, since I didn’t quite fancy insanity. But with both my soul and yours gone, it was… I’m sorry, but it was pointless.”
He observed her from the corner of his eye for a few seconds, wondering what she was thinking as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. He imagined she was going to keep on about his so-called redemption, and he was already getting ready for the soulful speech, but it didn’t come.
“If you want to…” she started, and hesitated.
“If I want what?” he encouraged her, curious.
“What you were doing before, you know, scaring bad people… If you want to start doing it again, I won’t stop you.”
He blinked several times as he stopped walking and looked at her, astonished. She returned his gaze levelly, but he could see some uneasiness in her.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly. “You were ready to stake me when you found out. I wouldn’t want you to change your mind again, luv.”
She nodded and gave him a light smile.
“I am sure.”
They started walking again, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder out loud about her change of heart about that particular matter.
“Cordy did say it was alright, didn’t she?” she replied weakly.
“She said that three weeks ago”, he pointed out gently. “And you never even mentioned it.”
“Yeah, well, three weeks ago it didn’t matter because you were human anyway. And… I didn’t know then.”
He cocked his head as he looked at her, but her face was turned forward, hiding her thoughts from him.
“I didn’t know how bad it is,” she continued in a whisper. “Craving for human blood. I can’t believe you went so long only on bags and not having even another vamp to bite.”
Something tightened in Spike’s chest as her words echoed in his mind. Until a few days ago, all Buffy had experienced in lieu of feeding was bagged blood or another vampire, and it had been enough because she didn’t know, couldn’t imagine without actually sinking her fangs into living flesh, how much different it was. How glorious. How deeply satisfying and satiating. But now she knew, and Spike was all too aware that her demon would ask for fresh blood with more force than ever before. And knowing her, he was sure she wouldn’t allow herself to give in.
“Will you help me?” he asked nonetheless.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said quietly, though there was a catch of hesitation in her tone.
He didn’t insist. She would have time to change her mind about that later if the call became too hard to resist, and he didn’t want her to feel like he was pressuring her into it. And yet, he couldn’t help hoping that she would join him eventually. Soul or no soul, white hats or not, they were demons, and it was useless to pretend otherwise.
They finally arrived home, and entered quietly, Buffy wondering in a whisper:
“Do you think anyone’s here?”
She was anxious to meet the Scoobies; it had been obvious ever since their talk in the church. And he might have made a mistake. He hadn’t pointed out to her that it wasn’t really her that had been going around wanting to hunt and kill. For him, the difference didn’t matter so much. But he knew that it did for the Scoobies, and it had to be…
“Dawn and Steven are. But they’re asleep by now.”
Both vampires were startled by the unexpected answer to Buffy’s inquiry, and found its source in the living room. Spike was surprised at seeing Cordelia sitting in an armchair, and a quick look at Buffy showed that she was just as taken aback. The angel looked remarkably human, Spike mused, not wearing these too white dresses anymore, but comfortable jeans and a blouse.
“You’re a bit late,” he said dryly. “We could have used your help for…”
“Oh, don’t start, bleach boy”, she interrupted him. “Angel already gave me the ‘how could you let that happen’ speech, in length and with as much brooding as he could manage. I’ll tell you why if you will just sit down and listen, alright?”
“What if we don’t care why?” Buffy asked. “Whatever your reasons, you didn’t help. Period.”
“They weren’t my reasons,” Cordelia said mildly. ”The Powers That Be told me not to help you, whatever happened.”
Anger was slowly rising in Spike. Was that the team he was playing for? With the big boss preventing help being given to one of their best fighters? It was becoming ridiculous, and he was going to say so when Buffy asked:
“Why would they do that?”
She had claimed she didn’t care about knowing the cheerleader’s reasons, but apparently, she did.
“It was a test,” Cordy replied, making a face as she did so. “They wanted…”
“Bloody wankers!” Spike growled. “Hasn’t she been through enough already? If that’s how you treat allies…”
Buffy caught his hand, and shook her head lightly, as if telling him it wasn’t worth it.
“It wasn’t Buffy who was being tested,” Cordelia said quietly then. “In fact, she could have done just about anything and they wouldn’t have held it against her.”
Both he and Buffy looked at the brunette in surprise, both trying to understand what she was saying exactly. And then realization dawned on Spike.
“It was me,” he said slowly. “They were testing me. Weren’t they?”
Cordelia nodded. “Yes, it was you, but not only. They were also testing me. And Angel. And Giles. And the new Slayers. A test fest, really.”
“And I failed.” Spike continued as if she hadn’t talked.
Buffy’s hand tightened its grip on his, and Spike forced himself to look at her face. He hadn’t just failed the giant wankers’ test, he had failed his Childe too. He had said he would do anything to join her into Heaven, but he had probably ruined whatever chances he had left.
“You didn’t really fail,” Cordelia commented before he could tell Buffy how sorry he was. “After all, you did help Buffy get her soul back. But there are some concerns that you would have let her kill and killed with her if it hadn’t worked. So you didn’t fail, but you didn’t quite pass either. At this point, the Powers don’t really know what to do with you.”
“Leaving me alone would be a good start,” Spike replied petulantly.
“As long as you hang out with Buffy, you know it’s not gonna happen.”
For a few seconds, he considered the woman in front of him. It wasn’t her fault if he had tied his unlife to Buffy. It wasn’t her fault her bosses were wankers. And it wouldn’t help a thing to yell at her, however good it might have felt. So he kept his mouth shut and simply nodded, more to signify he had heard her that to say he agreed.
“What about you?” Buffy suddenly asked the brunette. “What was your test?”
Cordelia let out a quiet, tired sigh.
“They told me you would lose your soul,” she said, looking straight at Buffy. “And they told me I wasn’t to do a thing about it. Nothing at all. Just let you all deal with the problem. If I had helped against their orders, they would have erased all my memories of my human life, so that you would have been just anyone to me, and I wouldn’t have cared about any of you any more than about anyone else. I just had to hope you would get out of this by yourselves so that I would be able to help in the future. Because you aren’t done with needing help, believe me on that one. And other angels might not care as much as I do whether you get out of it dead or alive.”
As she talked, Spike was mildly surprised to realize the cheerleader sounded angry with all of this, as upset with her bosses as he himself felt.
“Manipulative bunch, eh?” he said quietly.
“You have no idea,” she replied with a tight smile. “But from what I hear, the other side is even worse.”
*****
After Cordelia had left – in what was now her usual fashion, brief flash of light and sudden disappearance – Buffy mindlessly followed Spike into the kitchen. She expected him to get some blood ready and sat down at the island to wait, but she was surprised when, instead of pulling out blood bags from the fridge, he took out some milk and set it to warm on the stove. Next, he took the chocolate from the cabinet, and glanced back at her, an eyebrow arched questioningly.
“Someone seems to have raided our chocolate supply,” he observed, clearly amused.
She gave him a half-smile. “At least there’s some left,” she replied, a bit sheepishly. “But we finished the marshmallows.”
Chuckling lightly, he turned back to the pan and busied himself with preparing hot chocolate, and Buffy just watched him, trying, and failing, not to let her mind work too much over the events of the last days. So much she had to ask forgiving for – as well as forgive herself…
Soon, Spike was pulling her out of her thoughts by placing a full mug in front of her.
“So, who did you eat my marshmallows with?” he asked casually while sipping on his own cup.
She took a mouthful of the drink, finding instant comfort in the familiar taste, before answering. “Manon.”
The quietly uttered name brought a flash of surprise to Spike’s face, and she wondered whose name he had been expecting.
“The other you did seem to like the kid”, he commented, his tone very careful.
The other her… Buffy couldn’t help frowning at the thought. He had said several times that she was the same, was he changing his mind now?
“I said you were you, but a different you,” he clarified when she asked him. “Mostly the same, but not completely. The parts I love were the same. The parts the other people in your life love… well, that’s different. They were talking about bringing you back. So for them, it wasn’t their Buffy they dealt with the last few days. You have to realize that, luv.”
On their own, her lips twisted in a bitter grin. “That’s the easy way out, isn’t it? ‘Hey, I didn’t have my soul, so you can’t blame me for wanting to eat you. Let’s all be friends again.’ That doesn’t make things any better, though. And they won’t look at me the same now.”
Her gaze fell down to her cup and she watched the slow twirls in the chocolate until Spike’s finger under her chin made her look back up at him.
“Do you blame Angel for what Angelus did?” he asked, his voice emotionless.
Her mouth opened, and then closed without a sound. How many times had she used that excuse? How many times had she taken it for a fundamental truth that Angel with his soul and without it were two completely different persons? Not only her. They had all accepted that. All the gang. It hadn’t always been easy, but in the end, there was no doubt left for anyone. Especially not for her. But this line of thought suddenly seemed less convincing when it was used to excuse her own behavior.
“The problem is not so much how they’re going to look at you,” Spike continued, more gently, his hand now cupping her cheek. “It’s how you think they look at you. When they tell you they have forgiven you, don’t start brooding and wondering whether they truly do. Just accept that they don’t blame you for what you did without your soul. No more than they blame Angel.”
Slowly she nodded, and his hand finally separated from her skin. She missed the contact, but it soon returned when, after she had finished her chocolate, he took her hand and led her to their room. They undressed each other before slipping under silk sheets. As soft as the fabric was, it felt rough to Buffy when compared to Spike’s spooning embrace. For a long time, she remained staring into the dark, wondering how things would go when she did see the gang again. Spike’s talk had been reassuring, but it didn’t erase the memories.
A kiss pressed to her bare shoulder startled her out of her grim reflections.
“Enough brooding, Childe,” Spike growled softly against her hair. “Everything will be fine now. So get some sleep.”
It wasn’t a Sire’s order, but the words worked just as well, and soon she had fallen asleep, deeply grateful for and soothed by the protective arms of her Mate around her.