Chapter 37
Elizabeth lay on her side and stared at the bookshelf that lined the back of Spike’s desk, forming one of the walls that lined their little ‘bedroom’. She had been studying the grain of the wood for hours, pondering her fate and that of the man that slept on the far side of the bed.
It had not been a good day. Oz had announced that morning that he was going home for a while. Everyone understood, given all that had happened to him lately, and he had promised to return before the end of the semester. However, a feeling of sadness had still shrouded Westing Hall all day.
That had been followed by a rather vocal shouting match between Willow and Tara, of all people, that Jonathan had been able to hear all the way down at the end of the hall. Jonathan, much to his surprise, had also found himself the host of something of a party when the house population gathered in his room to be as far from Tara and Willow’s fight as possible.
Cordelia had made some pointed comments about Hell Semester. No one had contradicted her.
After the situation in the double had resolved itself, Elizabeth had set about on the task of finishing her econ problem set. She’d been lying across Anya’s bed, scowling at the equations in her book when Xander had abruptly rushed in and pulled Cordelia out on an important matter concerning “their play”.
Elizabeth had blinked at this, and Anya had proceeded to explain that Xander was helping with the set design for Cordy’s directorial debut. It was obvious that Anya wasn’t exactly thrilled that her boyfriend was running off and spending so much time with Cordelia. Or, actually, it was more like she wasn’t thrilled that he was spending so little time with her.
The two of them had spent the rest of the afternoon munching on a box of chocolate chip cookies Anya kept for just such an emergency and talking about how hopeless men were. Anya had bitched about Xander and his seeming crush on Cordy, and Elizabeth had reluctantly admitted that things had been much more strained between her and Spike lately. Anya had, of course, been shocked and demanded to know details. The problem was that Elizabeth couldn’t really pin anything too specific down. It was just a feeling she had…
The feeling had been reinforced when he had brought up her father again that evening. The previous night she’d brushed him off with an “I’ll think about it.” But tonight…
They really could yell up quite a storm when they put their minds to it. Spike had accused her of not having a bleeding clue what she wanted. She’d accused him of trying to run her life. There’d been a moment when she’d decided to sleep back in her and Willow’s old room, but given that Willow and Tara seemed to be making up within, she’d returned to Spike’s bed. And, even though she was still somewhat annoyed, she could still admit to herself that she was glad she was here for the night. After all, this was where she belonged…
They still hadn’t fully reconciled, though. For the first time ever, they’d used the size of the bed to sleep as far apart from each other as possible. Deep in her chest, Elizabeth could almost feel a palpable loss as she lay on her side, staring at the wood grain of the desk. It was probably what was making it so difficult for her to fall asleep.
Spike had actually fallen asleep rather quickly. The strain of the past few days had obviously overcome him, and within an hour of her return, the gentle, regular rhythm of his breathing had indicated to her that he was deep asleep. Usually, she found the sound soothing, lulling her into her own dreams. However, her mind was running about a mile a minute, too frazzled to just stop and listen.
She hated this, she decided. She wished her father had never come into town, so she wouldn’t have to take his stupid classes. She wished Spike had never started bandying about the word ‘love’, so that she wouldn’t feel guilty because she never returned the affectation. Most of all, she wished she’d never, ever met that jerk Angel because then she wouldn’t be so fucked up in the first place. It was all strange and new and confusing, and she wanted it to all just go away. Well, maybe the whole wishing Angel had never existed thing wasn’t exactly new… But still.
Calm down, she instructed her mind, taking several deep, purposeful breaths. Try to think about this logically.
That was the whole problem, though. None of it was logical. She had all these weird, half-formed feelings that she didn’t know what to do with, and every way she looked at it, she ended up miserable.
Option #1. Things just stayed the way they were now. Personally, this was her favorite. She could deal with her father’s demands. She’d done all right on her econ problem sets, and with Anya helping her, she was sure she’d do fine on the midterm. She was dealing, really she was. And this option would’ve worked just fine except for the fact that Spike kept trying to push her out of it. And what kind of boyfriend tried to do that anyway?
The kind that wants you to actually be happy, a voice in the back of her mind insisted on defending Spike. Well, fine, if she wanted to side with Spike, that led her straight to…
Option #2. Cave in to Spike’s wishes. Ditch econ. Tell her father to go screw himself. Admittedly, it had some appeal. Sometimes it was scary how alike she and Spike really were. But this idea just wasn’t practical. She had no doubt that her father would carry through on his threat to revoke her tuition. So that would mean what? She’d move in with Spike? Become his little stay-at-home wife? It’s not like he had all that much money, either. She could probably stay in this room, sure, maybe even eat off of his dining hall points… And, what? Live in a perpetual state of limbo? The idea gave her the creeps somewhere deep down inside.
God, how she wished that she could resort to Cordy’s tactics and have her parents cave in. Only she didn’t have the rich, distant aunt to back her up in case things fell straight through the floor. The only other real choice she’d come up with was…
Option #3. The ultimatum. If Spike didn’t stop bugging her about this, she’d employ the ultimate threat: get used to it, or I’m leaving. It pained her even to think about this one. God, how could she possibly live without Spike? She needed him. Practically everywhere she went, everything she did… It was all so much about him.
Oh yeah, and that’s sooo healthy, a sarcastic voice in the back of her mind pointed out.
She told it to shut up. After all, she and Spike were a couple, so it was only natural that…
What? He does everything, and you just tag along and watch? There was that strange, independent streak again. She was really starting to hate it. But, admittedly, some of what it was saying was true.
Spike was a wonderful boyfriend – loving, attentive, surprisingly sensitive despite his Big Bad demeanor, not to mention great in bed… A smile slipped upon her features at that one for a second, but she quickly brought her mind back on track. Spike was great, and she really enjoyed being with him, more that she ever had with anyone else before. But…
If there was one sticking point in her conversation with her father that had driven a nail through her heart, it was his treatment of Spike. If he had given her a direct order to stop seeing Spike, it almost would’ve been easier. Her father could easily enforce what classes she took, but she doubted he could actually force her to stop seeing Spike. If nothing else, the two of them would have just had to be sneakier.
But, oh no, that would’ve been too easy. Her father had to take the more painful road, the one where he trivialized Spike’s very existence and made it all too clear to her that they would never last…
Almost as if to contradict this line of thought, Spike turned over in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent under his breath as he dreamed. Elizabeth tensed slightly when his arm unconsciously slid around her waist, his body instinctively connecting with hers, even if the position had to be extremely uncomfortable to him.
Taking pity on the backaches he would have tomorrow if she let him sleep in this half-sprawled position, she rolled onto her back. He immediately settled comfortably against her, his arm around her waist tightening and his head resting on the pillow of the crook of her shoulder.
She managed a small smile as she stroked his peroxide locks absentmindedly. Even if they were arguing while awake, some primal impulse still always brought them back together. She felt a lot of the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying release at the feel of him in her arms once more. It felt so right to have him here, so perfect…
She leaned over to lay a gentle kiss on his brow. He made a soft humming noise and snuggled in deeper against her. He looked almost like a child as he did it. Like he was clinging on for his very survival…
It was a rather odd thought. Spike wasn’t a particularly tall man, but he was still large enough in her arms to make her feel petite. And, if he was a child, then what did that make her…?
With a snort of annoyance, Elizabeth decided that she was way too fatigued to think straight right now. Her thoughts were getting too weird. Yup, it would probably be a good idea to go to sleep. See? Just like Spike was. It looked so nice and relaxing, and he looked so at peace right now. Yup, that was definitely for her. Except for the fact that she was still just as awake as ever…
“Why me?” she rhetorically asked Spike’s sleeping head.
He nuzzled her slightly in response.
She sighed wistfully. It would be so comfortable to just fall back into their old patterns together. This Christmas had been like a glimpse of heaven. Everything was perfect, and no worries…well, except for Dawn, but that had straightened out in a remarkably easy fashion. She missed that life now. She wanted the two of them to be like that forever. And yet…
The sad truth of the matter was that what they had shared had just been a brief moment in time. For a short while, they’d been able to deny the fact that they were from different worlds. But how long would it be before she was dragged back into the world of the wealthy and incredibly stuffy? She briefly entertained the wild notion of just snubbing that world altogether, but somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she depended on it. The safety it provided her if it turned out she couldn’t find her way in this world after all… Could she really just abandon it? Give up all the advantages she had been given in life, bring shame to her mother’s name, be laughed at and ridiculed by the only society she’d ever known before college?
And for what? A college fling. Spike was a great guy, yeah, but in the end he was still from a completely different world. He really couldn’t understand what it was like for her. And, honestly, how often did it turn out that the guy you dated in college turned out to be The One? What if she made this choice and years down the road, it turned out she’d been wrong to stay with him?
Her father always screamed at her to think about her future. Well, there it was.
And that was why it just had to be a fling. Because the odds of them actually belonging together were so slim… It just wasn’t worth the risk.
Unaware of her turn of thoughts, Spike smiled in his sleep. His fingers had somehow found their way past the hem of her nightgown, and his hand now rested on the bare flesh of her stomach.
It felt nice, wonderful, but how could she know that it was really real? Her father…
She sighed. She was thinking in circles again, and it was so tiring. Whatever she did, it always came back to Option #1 anyway. She and Spike had managed just fine before; there was no reason they couldn’t do so again, and there was absolutely no reason to ruin what they had before it was absolutely necessary.
Except that he loves you, and you’re lying to him…
She brushed the thought aside. Spike wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with him. They were happy. There was absolutely no reason to rock the boat.
Deciding once again to battle with the ever-elusive sleep, Elizabeth closed her eyes once more, settling her head above his on the pillow. She smiled at the feel of his soft hair against her cheek and slowly began to drift away. Not even she could have said whether it was his comforting presence or the reaffirmation of her decision that finally allowed slumber to overtake her…
* * *
Elizabeth and Anya shared a sympathetic look the instant Elizabeth and Spike had arrived at the small theater. Xander and Cordy were buried in a large pile of wood blocks, foam rubber cutouts, and various brightly colored boards. They were talking animatedly together, apparently oblivious to Anya’s existence. Elizabeth could only assume they were searching for something to use in the rather vacant spot that would form the side wall of the room they’d set up on the stage.
Anya, for her part, noticed the unusual amount of physical distance between the bleached pair and sighed inwardly. It was never a good sign when even the cuddliest couples started having problems. Willow and Tara and then Spike and Elizabeth fighting on the same day? It made her wonder whether all relationships were doomed.
“Is that…a large fluorescent green egg?” Spike blinked at one of the stage props from last year’s spring play with pure and total bewilderment.
Anya’s brow furrowed. “Quite possibly,” she decided.
Xander let out an exclamation of victory, and he and Cordy quickly began pulling out what looked to be a pale blue wardrobe.
Elizabeth blinked. “What…?” she began.
“Don’t even try to figure it out,” Anya advised. “It will result in powerful migraines.”
Elizabeth and Spike were forced to nod in agreement.
“We’ll need to paint on some stripes…” Xander was saying, studying the junky piece of furniture they’d extricated from the heap.
Cordy nodded vigorously. “I’ll go find the duct tape,” she offered, “and…” She trailed off when she noticed that their audience had increased. “Good,” she exclaimed brightly. “More slave labor!”
“What?” Elizabeth’s mouth gaped open like a herring’s, but before she knew it a paintbrush had been thrust into her hand.
“You paint all the time,” Xander announced. “This should be no different. We just need to put zebra stripes on the dresser here.”
“Why?” Elizabeth dreaded to ask.
“Because otherwise it won’t clash with the pink polka-dots enough,” Cordelia explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Spike, you can help Xander duct tape the ceiling beam in place.” She sighed and looked down at the limp wooden structure in front of her. “It just doesn’t want to stay put…” she sighed wistfully.
“Huh?” Spike looked about as dumbfounded as Elizabeth.
“Just come with me.” Xander snagged a duster sleeve before the peroxide blond could make a crafty escape.
Elizabeth stared at where her boyfriend was being dragged away, then down at the brush in her hand, then back over at the bug ugly blue dresser. “I second the ‘huh?’” she announced.
Anya nodded in slow agreement. “I think they’re crazy,” she whispered conspiratorially in Elizabeth’s ear. “They’ve got me trying to swat flies into that purple thing.” She gestured to what looked to be some gelatinous goo in a large silver bowl.
“What play is this exactly?” Elizabeth wondered.
Anya shrugged. “I’m kind of afraid to ask,” she admitted. “Mostly because I suspect this all of being one of those psychology experiments where they test to see what ridiculous things people will do before they finally refuse.”
Elizabeth had to admit it was the most reasonable explanation for their current situation.
Cordelia raced back into the room at that, brandishing a roll of duct tape like the fate of the world depended on this special delivery. She didn’t dare leave such precious cargo in the confused hands of Spike and dashed right past him to give it to Xander. In an instant, she’d left the men to their perplexing task and had descended upon Anya and Elizabeth.
She frowned at the still blue dresser. “That doesn’t look like a zebra,” she pointed out Elizabeth’s complete lack of action.
“Um, do you want black and white stripes, or just black over the blue?” Elizabeth’s rational mind had apparently shut down to accomplish her bizarre task more effectively.
Cordy frowned at that for a second. “Yeah,” she agreed, “’cause if we want the white, we’re gonna have to paint the whole thing white first…”
“That was my thought,” Elizabeth agreed.
“I think you should leave it blue,” Anya commented, joking slightly. “That’s so much more strange than black and white stripes.”
Cordy nodded seriously. “Good point,” she agreed. “Leave it blue.”
Elizabeth and Anya shrugged and both turned to the black paint can. After all, when in Rome…
Across the room from them, Spike had adopted a similar philosophy. He had no idea what he was working on or how the hell Xander could tell it was broken, but if the other man said that yellow thing was supposed to stand out at an angle, then it must be so.
Besides, viciously attacking things with duct tape was always fun. The poor prop had turned almost silver before the two overly-enthusiastic students were done with it.
“Still don’t know what ‘s s’posed to be,” Spike declared, “but nothing with that much duct tape can possibly break.”
Xander grinned at that as well. “Now all we have to do is make it yellow again.”
Spike groaned. “Don’t I even get an explanation why?” he whined petulantly.
“No,” Xander announced with joking sternness.
Elizabeth approached at that moment, abandoning the now-striped dresser. “Cordy told me to help you. Apparently my visual arts experience translates into covering things with aerosol paint in her mind.”
Spike grinned at that. “Dunno,” he teased lightly, “that nightscape you did with—”
She whapped him playfully in the head before he could finish. “Asshole,” she pouted despite the amused smile on her face.
“Maybe,” Spike agreed as leer, “but you—”
“I don’t know what you’re about to say,” Xander cut him off, “but if you’ve got that expression, then I know I don’t want to hear. Now, we need to make this thing yellow again.”
Spike rolled his eyes before they filled with excitement again when he was handed a can of yellow aerosol spray paint. A mischievous gleam darted around to all the unsuspecting innocents in the room.
“Way to go, Xander,” Elizabeth chided. “You’ve just unleashed the apocalypse.”
Xander cringed in apology when Spike’s feral eyes landed on him for a brief instant.
“Honey,” Elizabeth caught Spike’s elbow and directed him to the thing that Xander was yellowing, “don’t attack the unsuspecting populace with yellow spray paint.” She said the statement in a perfect mock-nag.
He chuckled before sighing and turning to his all-important task. It was vital that that thing turned yellow, dammit!
Cordy dropped by on one of her endless circuits of the room and nodded with approval. “Finally got it fixed,” she commented to Xander.
He gave her a little grin. “Nothing that manly men with duct tape couldn’t handle.” He thumped his chest twice jokingly.
Cordy laughed and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before running off.
Across the room, Anya sulked.
Spike noticed.
“Treadin’ in dangerous waters there, mate,” he commented off-handedly.
“What?” Xander asked, completely clueless.
Spike nodded his head over in Anya’s direction. “Make the Missus jealous if you keep that up,” he clarified.
Xander blinked in surprise. “Anya’s not jealous,” he insisted.
Elizabeth and Spike both fixed him with ‘surely, you aren’t that much of an idiot’ stares.
“She is?” he ventured in nervous surprise.
“Been stressin’ out all semester,” Spike said in his best ‘duh’ voice. “You honestly haven’t noticed this?”
Xander shook his head numbly.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake…” Spike grumbled. He turned to Elizabeth. “Luv, can you…?”
“Right,” Elizabeth nodded seriously. “Vital guy talk. I’ll go soothe Anya’s nerves.”
Spike gave her a grateful smile. “Much appreciated, pet.”
She managed a shy smile in response and leaned in close for a minute to steal a sweet kiss from his lips before she dashed off after Anya.
Spike sighed as he watched her go. Practically ripping his eyes from the woman he loved, he turned back to Xander. “Women get jealous,” he informed the less-experienced man matter-of-factly. “Even if they insist they don’t. And especially when they’re PMSing, which they also claim not to do.”
“But what could Anya possibly be jealous of?” Xander asked, bewildered.
Spike rolled his eyes heavenward, caught the young man by the shoulders, and pointed him in Cordy’s direction. “Maybe the beautiful woman you’re spendin’ all your time with?” he suggested sarcastically.
“But Cordy and I are just friends!” Xander insisted.
Spike felt like hitting Xander, and then himself, very hard in the head multiple times. “Look at it this way, mate,” he offering, pulling over a spare chair and turning it around to he could sit on it backwards. Xander followed his cue and sat down on the edge of a wooden crate. “OK,” Spike went on, “so there’s this bird you really like. The two of you finally get together, but then not too long into it, you get real sick. You’re out of it for a while, and when you get better, turns out this girl’s hangin’ out with another guy all the time. Tell me you don’t feel jealous.”
“But it’s not like that,” Xander insisted.
Spike snorted. “You tell me this, why?” he wondered.
“Because you’re suggesting—” Xander began.
“Not suggestin’ a thing,” Spike insisted with an innocent sweep of his arms, “but your girl’s worryin’. And if you have even the slightest bit of common sense, you’ll go tell ‘er exactly how you feel about her.”
“B-But…” Xander ventured hesitantly.
A scarred eyebrow rose. “But?” he repeated.
“What if I don’t know?” Xander finished nervously.
A frown marred Spike’s smooth brow. “Don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.
“Stop repeating everything I say!” Xander exclaimed defensively.
“Maybe if what you were sayin’ make a lick ‘f sense, I would,” Spike retorted.
“C’mon,” Xander rolled his eyes. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how attractive Cordy is.”
Spike glanced over at the woman in question. “She’s beautiful,” he agreed. “You don’t think Anyanka’s beautiful, too?”
“Of course, I do,” Xander insisted. “It’s just… Shouldn’t it mean something? That, I’m, y’know…”
“Noticing another woman?” Spike repeated incredulously. “Christ, you’re off your rocker, Harris.” He let out a sigh of despair and pinched the bridge of his nose to release the tension. “’S real simple,” he finally informed the other man. “Who do you want to be with, Cordy or Anyanka?”
“Well, of course, Anya,” Xander insisted. “She’s my girlfriend. But—”
“This ‘ad better be a good ‘but’,” Spike warned him.
Xander couldn’t help but grin evilly at that set-up. “As good as Elizabeth’s?” he teased.
“Oi!” Spike exclaimed in horror. “That’s—!”
“Kidding. Kidding,” Xander assured him, chuckling slightly at the way Spike’s face had turned a bright red.
“Better be,” Spike grumbled under his breath, sulking.
Xander rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he insisted, “it was a bad joke.”
“Bloody brilliant joke,” Spike conceded reluctantly, “but that still doesn’t mean ‘m not pissed…”
Xander cracked a smile at that and watched the other man returned to his seat.
“Now, what’s this ‘but’?” Spike demanded. “And, so help me, Harris, if you make one more reference to my ‘Lizabeth…”
“I really like Anya,” Xander decided to ignore the other man’s grumbling and plunged ahead, “but I’m still attracted to Cordy.”
“So?”
“So, shouldn’t that mean that Anya’s not right for me?” Xander pressed.
Spike sighed. “You want Anyanka?”
“Yes.”
“You want Cordelia?”
“Maybe.”
A snort of annoyance. “What’s that mean?”
“Well, sometimes I have fantasies…” Xander began hesitantly.
“Yeah, and I ‘ave fantasies ‘bout Sarah Michelle Gellar, but it doesn’t mean ‘m ditchin’ Elizabeth anytime soon,” Spike pointed out.
Xander sighed at that. “She’s hot,” he agreed. “Now I’ve got both her and Cordy on a beach, and—” Spike waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m awake! I’m here!” he insisted.
“Good,” Spike agreed. “Now, do you seriously want to date Cordy over Anyanka?”
“No,” Xander insisted.
“Then, what you’re doin’ is called harmless fantasizin’,” Spike informed him. “It means about as much as that guy at the coffee shop that ‘Lizabeth’s so fond of.”
Xander raised an eyebrow at this.
“Says he’s got a nice ass,” Spike shrugged, “which he does. Don’t care, though,” he said with a smug smile, “’cause she says my ass is cuter. And tastier.”
“TMI,” Xander informed him, covering his eyes as if that would somehow block the mental image.
Spike grinned evilly. “So go tell Anyanka that hers is the ass you really fancy, and let her finally stop worryin’ that you’re plannin’ to dump her for Cordy.”
“Right…” Xander looked hesitant.
“Oh, for cryin’ out…” Spike sighed in exasperation. “Go,” he pointed. “Say all those things that birds think ‘re sweet, and all guys think are poncy. An’ hurry so I can stop feelin’ like a poof for havin’ this conversation with you in the first place.”
Xander grinned. “Don’t worry,” he assured Spike, “Elizabeth asks, and I’ll inform her that you said ‘Ugh! Go fuck woman now!’” He affected a delightful caveman voice.
“God, you’re so hopeless,” Spike sighed, shoving Xander slightly to get him headed in the direction of Anya.
Not needing any further motivation, Xander went over to where she and Elizabeth were giggling over something. “Anya,” he stated matter-of-factly, “in my eyes, your assets exceed all other women’s, and I would like to demonstrate this fact to you through many orgasms.”
Anya laughed and gave him a quick hug. “You’re very strange,” she informed him with a smile before turning back to Elizabeth and Spike. “Uh…Xander and I have to go…er, study…” she improvised horribly.
“We did hear what he just said, luv,” Spike felt obliged to point out.
“Right then,” Anya nodded seriously. “We’re off to have orgasms, then. Way better orgasms than the two of you have.” She felt the childish impulse to stick out her tongue and went with it.
Spike and Elizabeth exchanged a look as Anya and Xander left. “Believe we’ve been given a challenge, Summers…” he began.
She whapped him on the arm. “Insensitive much?” she teased.
“And you know you love it, baby,” he retorted lasciviously, sidling up in front of her so that he was pressed between where her legs hung over the desktop.
She smiled at him. “That was really sweet,” she informed him, rewarding him with a quick kiss to the lips.
He smiled in a happy daze for a second before her words sunk in. “‘Sweet’?!” he protested.
She giggled and caught him up in a fierce hug. “Sorry,” she insisted, “I meant that it made me want to have sex with you.”
He grinned. “’Just said that, it would save blokes a lot of grief,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, but ‘sweet’ is shorter and easier to say,” she pointed out as they got up to go.
“Hey!” Cordy protested. “We still have to put glitter-tape on the ladder!”
Elizabeth and Spike groaned before turning back to their friend.
“Why does the ladder need glitter-tape?” Spike cringed inwardly in anticipation.
“Well, where else am I going to put the fruit bats?” Cordy retorted matter-of-factly.
“Ouch, my brain hurts,” Elizabeth teased, whispering in Spike’s ear.
“Mine, too, luv,” he assured her, taking the shiny pink roll from Cordy ruefully.
Elizabeth giggled as she took the first piece of tape from him. “So,” she asked curiously, “what did you tell Xander?”
“Nothin’ unusual,” he shrugged. “Just to be honest ‘bout his feelings.” He leaned over to fasten one end of the tape to the ladder.
Behind him, Elizabeth worried her lip between her teeth. But, by the time he turned to face her, she was all smiles again…