Chapter 08

‘now you and me go parallel together and apart
and you keep the perfect distance and it's tearing at my heart’
- “hand in hand” by dire straits


Buffy stared at him in utter disbelief.

Her heart had skipped a beat, and her brain seemed to have done the same thing. Then, she blinked. Slowly. Trying to bring her senses up to speed with what he’d just said.

“What?” her voice was hushed, almost inaudible. “What did you just say?”

She had heard full well what he had said. She just didn’t understand it.

Half a life back when Glory had threatened to open that portal from/into hell, she would have given anything for him to say those exact words. She had tried to ignore the painful truth that this man – no, strike that – that this creature had actually fallen in love with her. It had been wrong, utterly wrong. And she still wasn’t so sure if it was part of the big scheme of things for a soulless vampire to actually fall in love.

At first, she hadn’t believed him. There had been too many reasons not to. That he had tied her up to tell her was only one of them. But with time (and with all the little things he’d done for her), she had adapted to the thought that his feelings for her had been real and not just some lust-laden daydream.

Of course, after she had been brought back from the dead, she had abused that exact same fact in the most shameless way. It still made her blush violently when she thought of all those things that…

And then, the soul. He had gone to Africa to get himself a soul, to be punished for all those things he’d done. He had hit a rough patch after that but he had worked his way through it. He had worked his way through it for her. Always for her.

He’d been beaten, tortured, and had gone to hell and back. Just for her.

Because he loved her.

During their last few days in Sunnydale it had become clear to her, more clear than it had ever been. He loved her. Whether it was possible or not, whether it was right or not, he loved her.

Not only had she gotten used to it, it had become a constant in her life. Something she could count on, something that gave her the strength to fight. No matter what had happened, he had been there. With her and for her. Always.

And now he told her that…

How was that possible?

Spike still hadn’t answered her. She had no idea how much time had passed before she spoke again.

“How?” she breathed. He wanted to say something now but she raised her hand to cut him off. “Is… is there someone else?” Her voice shook with confusion.

When Spike finally spoke, his voice had an odd quality to it. There was sadness, and exhaustion, and a slight touch of impatience, all rolled into one single word. “No.”

“Then… what?” She had never thought that the words ‘I don’t’ – simple as they were - would be able to confuse her this much.

“Buffy, I…,” he started, turning the piece of paper in his hands. “I haven’t told you… the entire story.”

“Then, please, do.”

He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I… I don’t remember my feelings for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Again, anger flared up inside her. There had been a time when there was nothing she could have done to shut him up. Now, she had to drag every single word from him; it was like pulling teeth.

“When… a few years ago I was in New Zealand, checking out some demon clan. I got word that their leader was engaged in a… they were playing poker at a demon bar in Wellington.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t loose your feelings in a poker game,” she said, incredulously.

“No, that’s not…,” he sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I made a deal with a faerie.”

“You what? A faerie? Small, glittery, looks lots like Julia Roberts?”

“Less Tinkerbell, more Hellboy,” he corrected, raising an eyebrow. “There was another guy at the table, hell of a player. One evening he started talking about you, about this place. Figured that was something worth listening to. He kept yapping on and on about that big plan of his to tear the Slayer’s Council apart. When I asked him about it, he… he sensed something. In me.”

“Your soul?” Buffy asked. Something dawned inside her, a little notion of where this was going.

“My… my love, I suppose,” he replied with a tiny shrug. “Turned out that this guy was some faerie lord or something. He wanted to take you out, you and the girls. The usual. Had it all worked out.” Once more, Spike took a deep breath. “And then he offered me a deal.”

Buffy made a step back, bumping against the door.

“He would leave you alone if I gave him my memories.”

Buffy stared at him, her throat suddenly very dry. “He made you forget that you love me?”

Spike looked up at her, sadness written all over him. “When I came back as a ghost, you were the first thing I thought about, the first thing I asked about. When they made me corporeal again, first thing I wanted to do was head over to Europe to come see you. You were always on my mind, all the time. I couldn’t slay a vampire, or off a demon without thinking about you. Whenever Giles or Andrew wrote me, it felt like…,” he laid a hand over his heart, his fingers curling into a fist. “It hurt. So when that guy offered me the chance to forget how much it hurt not to see you again…” He fell silent for a long moment.

Buffy didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know what to think.

“I know that I have feelings for you. I just don’t know what they feel like. I remember everything, every word, everything we’ve… I still have all those memories.” Again, he paused, staring down at his bandaged foot. “They just don’t mean anything to me.”

The Slayer drew in a shuddering breath, tears threatening to flood her eyes. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

“And at first it wasn’t so bad. After a while though… I know it’s there, somewhere. It’s as if you see something in the corner of your eyes, and when turn and try to focus on it, it’s gone. It’s always there, I just… I just can’t reach it. And that hurts even more.”

Again, silence fell between them.

Buffy had no idea how much time had passed. Half an eternity seemed to have gone by. Her thoughts and emotions were a hopeless jumble. She understood everything he’d just told her but it didn’t make any sense to her.

She could have dealt with another woman. She could have dealt with him loosing his soul again. Those were the things she could handle. Those were the things she understood. But this… this was just insane.

“I’m sorry, Buffy.” Spike’s voice tore her out of her thoughts. Slowly, he rose to his feet, taking a few uneven steps toward her. His eyes shone very blue.

“You traded your love away,” her words swam in tears. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you why.”

“Because you love me?” Disdain seeped into her voice. “Because… I’m the one?”

He let out an exhausted breath. “Yes.” He made another step towards her, closing the gap between them.

She let out a tiny, incredulous snort. “You see, now that you say that… it doesn’t mean anything to me either.”

He made another step forward. “Buffy, I…”

Not being able to back any further away from him, Buffy held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. Years ago, that motion only would have urged him on. Now, he froze.

“No,” she said, her voice hard now, angry. “Just… no.” She reached for the door handle, pulling it open. “I wish you’d never come back.”

Behind her, the door clicked shut.


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