banner by Dawnofme


Chapter 18: Coming Clean

Winter returned to Buffalo with a vengeance. No power hungry heiress and giddy genie were wreaking havoc with nature this time around. It was just plain old northern winter. March had come in like a lion and its roar had yet to abate.

Spike glanced out the window, past the drifts of snow and ice on the sill to the lifeless black branches of the trees that reached up to the gray winter sky. One thing about Buffalo, it provided an almost endless stream of cloudy, sunless days. Perfect for his kind.

“Spike?”

He jumped as Buffy came up behind him and slid her hands around his waist. He quickly folded the letter and tucked it away.

“What’s that?”

“A letter from Gunn,” he said, deciding to stick as close to the truth as he could.

“Oh, how is he?” she asked, sounding interested.

“Good, he’s met someone, thinking of getting engaged.” Spike watched her carefully.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “How sweet.”

It was definitely there, he thought, that wish to wear the ring and the dress. Every little girl dreams of it; every woman secretly plans for the day. Why would Buffy be any different in that regard?

Because she’s different in every other regard, the voice of reason argued. Spike wasn’t known for listening to the voice of reason. He acted on instinct and gut, pure and simple. And his gut was churning.

Pulling away from her, he sat down and turned to the computer. Buffy slid into his lap and drew his attention from the screen back to her. “Remember when we were engaged?”

He tried to smile but failed. Was she reading his mind these days? “How could I forget? Didn’t you want “Wind Beneath my Wings” for our wedding song?”

“Ouch,” she winced. “I think so. But I would definitely pick something different now.”

“You’ve got plans that I don’t know about? What’s his name?”

Tilting his face up to hers, she grinned. “William.”

He closed his eyes and she leaned down and pressed her mouth against his. Tightening his grip around her, he enjoyed her kiss and the confidence with which she was approaching their lovemaking. And he wished that it would last forever.

He would last forever.

She definitely wouldn’t.

Her fragile, fragile flesh. Slayer strength with human mortality. She’d already proven it twice by dying.

She sat back and looked down at him. “What’s wrong?”

Glancing away, knowing he couldn’t look her in the face and lie, Spike said, “Nothing. Just got work to do is all.”

“Since when is work,” she wiggled in his lap, leaving neither of them in any doubt as to what was really on his mind, “more important than other things?”

“Giles has me working on these psych profiles of slayers, I’m doing research,” he said defensively.

“And I know it’s very important work, but there’s something going on.”

He shook his head.

Buffy’s heart seemed to harden. “Is it Sam?”

He shot her a look of both surprise and alarm. “Sam? Why?”

“She doesn’t go near you anymore, hasn’t since the night of the ball. What happened?” she asked sharply.

Spike shook his head. “Nothing. She thought she had some feelings for me. I clarified things for her and she’s just licking her wounds. Nothing more than that.”

“And how exactly did you clarify things for her?”

Spike stared at her in amazement. Was the slayer jealous? Could it possibly be? That was his territory. But if he wasn’t mistaken...that was jealousy in her tone.

“What are you implying?”

“Do you have feelings for her?”

He pushed her off of his lap. “Are you bloody daft?”

“Am I?” she asked.

He threw his hands up in the air. “Apparently! I’ve never given you any reason to doubt my feelings for you. I love you. Have always loved you and will always love you and only you!”

“Then why do I get the feeling lately that you’re planning an escape route?” she asked softly. “Is it that you feel your work here is done? You’ve done what the PTB asked you to do, helped get me back on the right path, and now you figure it’s time to leave?”

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. “Buffy...”

“What is it, Spike? Because I know there’s something.”

“It’s not something,” he whispered. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to live with it. He had spent most of his relationship with Buffy living for her, catering to her needs and desires, wanting to make things good for her. He wanted to make her wishes come true. Even this last one. “It’s someone.”

“Please tell me you aren’t pulling the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ card cause if you are, I’m going to go all slayer like on you and it won’t be pretty or hot!”

Reaching over, he grabbed her left hand. He ran his finger down her ring finger, imagining the beautiful diamond ring she’d wear. The white dress, the veil, Giles walking her down the aisle, the entire church bathed in sunlight.

“Do you want to get married?” he asked softly.

Buffy’s eyes widened and she smiled beautifully. Her happiness was so bright, so overwhelming, that for a split second, Spike was stunned. Then his soul shriveled.

“Oh my God! Spike! Yes! Yes!” She threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly.

Realizing his mistake, Spike pulled her hands from around his neck and pushed her away. “Buffy, wait, you’re misunderstanding me. I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m just asking you if you want to get married someday. You’ve mentioned it before.”

She stepped back and stared at him in hurt and bewilderment. “What game are you playing?”

“Just answer me. Do you want to get married someday?”

She nodded uneasily, not sure where this was leading. “Yes.”

“Do you want to have a family?”

“I have a family,” she said softly.

“That’s not what I mean. Do you want to have your own family? Children of your own?”

She paused, glancing down at her stomach. It was something she’d wanted when she was younger, and then when she’d become the slayer, it had been one of those dreams that she’d put away with the dolls and tea sets. But now, with all the slayers, Buffy could lead a normal life when the time came. If that was what she wanted.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, Spike continued. “You could have a normal life now if you wanted one. Husband, two kids, the house in the suburbs, a dog named Rolf. It could all be yours.”

She nodded.

“But, Buffy, that can’t be mine.”

She stared at him. “What are you saying? That I have to choose?”

He made a helpless gesture with his hands. “Buffy, really, there is no choice.”

“There is. I’d rather have you than those things,” she said softly.

Spike believed her. He knew that in that moment, Buffy believed herself. She’d felt the pain of losing him, she’d suffered without him all these years and he knew that with the pain of that memory so fresh, she honestly believed that a half life lived with him was a hundred times better than a full, normal life lived without him. But he knew that over time, as the years went by and she aged and he stayed young, as those around them settled down and had their own families, as their friends moved away, died, moved on, she would realize more and more just what she’d given up to be with him.

“What if,” he finally said, “what if I told you that you could have all those things and a great love as well?”

She frowned in confusion. “What’re you talking about?”

Before he could continue, there was a soft knock at the office door. Spike sighed in frustration. “Come in!” he hollered.

Willow pushed the door open and poked her head around. She spotted Buffy and smiled. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here, Buff. Spike, I need to talk to you, but I can come back later.”

He looked at her and she stared back at him. He saw it in her eyes.

“Did you find him?” he asked softly.

Willow’s heart ached. She nodded.

Spike lowered his head and she closed the door and left them alone.

Buffy watched the interaction between the two of them with growing unease and fear. “Spike, what’s going on?”

“Sit down,” he said softly. “Please.”

“Not unless you sit with me,” she pleaded.

He went to the couch and sat down and she took her place next to him. “Now tell me what the hell is going on.”

He took a deep breath and then he started. He told her about the last fight in L.A., the PTB tribunal, and the Shanshu prophecy. And then finally, Spike told her about the choice he’d made.

“You chose me?” she whispered. “You chose me over a real, normal, human life?”

He nodded, unable to look at her.

She grabbed his chin and forced him to. “So you gave up a real life so that Angel could have what he wanted and you gave up your life for me? Again?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said. “I wasn’t like Angel, I didn’t want it as badly as he did. I wanted you more.”

“Do you think he would have chosen me if he’d been given the choice?”

Spike thought about it for a moment, thought about those last months he’d spent with Angel, how Angel had seemed to have done what Spike had never been able to do -move on after Buffy. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “Thank you for choosing me. For saving me. Again.” She smiled. “You’ve made a real habit of that.”

“It was an easy choice,” he said, unable to help but return the smile.

“And thank you for telling me,” she said. “I sort of understand why you kept it to yourself. But I’m not quite certain why you’ve brought it up now.”

“You need to go to him,” Spike finally said. The words seared through him. It was so hard to say them; it hurt more than dying had.

Buffy sat back and stared at him in shock. “Go to who? Angel?”

He nodded.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” she practically shouted.

“So you can live the life you were meant to live.”

Lunging to her feet, she stared down at him. “I’m going to kill you,” she said matter-of-factly. “If I had a stake, I would dust you right now. You son of a bitch!”

“Wait a bloody minute,” he said, jumping up and facing her off. “Where do you get off being pissed off at me?”

“You come in here and tell me this tale about how you sacrificed yourself yet again to save me and then you just assume that regardless of this sacrifice, I would waltz off and hook up with Angel? The vampire who didn’t choose me?”

“He’s not a vampire anymore,” Spike shouted.

“So?” she yelled back.

“So he can marry you and give you children and grow old with you and die with you!” Spike cried out. “All things that I can’t do!”

She stared at him, her eyes swimming with tears. She wiped them away angrily. “We are right back to where we always are,” she said in disbelief, shaking her head.

“And where is that?” he asked, more calmly.

“With you the big lover, making all the sacrifices; and me, the one who never loves you enough. Isn’t it great to be you?” she asked bitterly. “You get to call the shots; you get to play the disgruntled lover, the giver, the one making the sacrifices. And I’m the bad guy, the one who doesn’t love enough to give herself up for her lover.”

“Buffy, that’s not-“

She held up her hand. “Don’t try and tell me otherwise. You were always so sure that I loved Angel more, that he came first with me. That somehow I loved you less.” She stood there, staring at him, defeated. “It’s not jealousy, exactly” she murmured in dawning awareness. “I’m not jealous of Sam. I’m jealous of you. Of how much you love me. Of everything you’ve done for me. Because I’ll never be able to prove to you that I love you as much. You loved me enough to give up your own chance at a mortal life. And now, you love me enough to give me up. I’ll never, ever be able to show I love you that much.”

He glanced down at the ground as the silence and tension between them few.

“Well, we’ll do this your way then,” she said finally and his head shot up. “I’m assuming that Willow knows where Angel is and that letter from Gunn is setting up some sort of visit?”

Spike nodded.

“Fine, pack your bags. We’ll go to L.A. and I will go and see Angel. And then hopefully we can set this to rest!” She turned on her heels and stormed from the room, leaving Spike wondering just what hellish situation his gut instincts had set in motion this time.