Title: He’s Not My Boyfriend
Author: scarlett2u
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Season 7. Set during Chosen, after Buffy has received the amulet from Angel
Summary: On her way home after receiving the amulet from Angel, Buffy has thinky thoughts about how to best define her relationship with Spike.
Disclaimer: BtVS, its characters and canon all belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. I wish I had a cool company like that..or a cannon, er, canon…but all I’ve got is this story. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Author’s Note 1: Warning: Buffy probably has Angel breath going into this scene.
Author’s Note 2: Happy Valentine’s Day!
 
 
 
 
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
 
The words she’d said to Angel echoed in Buffy’s mind as she strolled down the deserted streets of Sunnydale.
 
Oh, she had meant them. Buffy understood the boyfriend thing; she was boy-friendly. Not that it was like “Welcome to ‘Hoville. Population: Buffy” or anything, but she had *some* experience.
 
 First there was her “cradle-robbing, creature of the night boyfriend”. That relationship had gone to hell and back. Literally. Her first love. Her first lover. The embodiment of all her dreams of a normal life and love. She killed him; he dumped her. Didn’t end well. And then there was the whole sex curse thing that not even vampire Viagra could fix.
 
Then came the would-be boyfriend. That hadn’t ever really gone anywhere, because hey, gay now… if you could trust secondhand gossip from the undead. You really couldn’t turn a guy gay in just a handful of dates, could you? Nope, she was so not taking the blame for that one.
 
Not even gonna count the Campus Casanova-type and his one-night layover in Buffyville.  Seriously, how could she ever have been interested in a guy with a unibrow? Even Bert from Sesame Street had kissed that look good-bye.
 
“Mr. All-American Normal Guy” Boyfriend was next. Handsome, athletic, smart, human—perfect, really. Well, except for the whole secret government mission thing…and the vamp ‘ho thing…and his needing a normal girlfriend and leaving for South America thing….Okay, maybe not so perfect after all.
 
Suffice it to say that in terms of boyfriends, she’d been there, dated them.
 
And Spike was so not her boyfriend. Why couldn’t people get that?
 
There were rules to boyfriendship and Spike broke them all.
 
Boy meets girl. An attraction is there. Boy invites girl on date. Boy does not track girl down at the Bronze, set up a vamp attack, gleefully watch the ensuing fight and then threaten to kill her over the weekend.
 
And he hadn’t even done that right! Spike attacked early and they’d known from the start that when it came to fighting, they didn’t need weapons.
 
As relationships go, it was a bad beginning.
 
Spike had met her mom that night too. Naturally, it wasn’t your typical “meet the parents” moment.  Spike hadn’t been expecting Mom to be wielding an axe and going all Lizzie Borden on him. The memory made her smile. Spike and her mom had had a weird relationship, that was for sure. Joyce made him cocoa with those little marshmallows he liked so much and he laughed at her gallery stories, even the really yawn-worthy ones. 
 
Weird.
 
Even so, Mom got a major case of the wiggins when she found out about Spike’s feelings. Everyone had. And that was before they were ever together. It got even worse later. Dawn threatened to sauté Spike in his sleep and Giles had gone from laughing hysterically to conspiring to stake him. Looking back, Buffy preferred the giggle fit. Nope, Spike would never be welcomed with open arms into her family. Firearms maybe, but open arms…no.
 
So much for the approval of family and friends.
 
A relationship with one’s boyfriend should progress in a logical way, getting to know and like each other and building on that foundation. She & Spike had started off as mortal enemies, then became reluctant allies, cautious friends, lovers, enemies, allies…the whole thing over again. Spike said it was all part of the “dance” between them. He didn’t mean it literally, because they’d never actually danced together. Fought, talked, ate, played pool, made out like maniacs and even found paradise by the disco ball light, but never once had they actually taken the floor and moved to the music together. Their ‘romantic evenings’ consisted of fighting each other and/or the forces of evil.
 
See, not boyfriendly!
 
Having a boyfriend should also mean a safe amount of smoochies and snugglies. Not demolishing buildings in a fevered urge to merge…or missing the bed for the dozenth time…or going for five hours straight. It was unnatural and more than a tiny bit terrifying, Buffy thought, finding herself replaced by a wanton woman who lived only to feel, to touch, to be with him.
 
And he knew!  Damn him, he always knew. “Best you’ve ever had!” He’d called it right that first morning after. She could never lie to him; he always saw right through her. Spike knew when she was lying or scared or longing to be kissed again. He’d seen her bad moods, bad hair days and the occasional near-miss apocalypse.  Yet through it all he just gazed at her with his heart in his eyes.
 
Geez, he was the guy in this relationship--didn’t he know he was supposed to appear interested but somewhat unavailable emotionally? And how was she supposed to maintain an air of mystery and present a picture of perfection when it didn’t seem to matter to him whether she was being a shrew or a superhero that day?
 
Spike told her he loved her and expected nothing in return. Some small part of Buffy still felt awed and confused whenever he said it. Why did he love her? What was so special about her of all people? Sure, others had told her they loved her. Then they left.
 
What made him stay? Surely he’d seen the worst of her by now…and still he hadn’t run screaming. Instead he’d gone to get a soul.
 
Crazy. Most boyfriends would’ve sent flowers.
 
But he wasn’t her boyfriend.
 
If Spike were her boyfriend, she’d have to give a name to what it was that she felt for him and she didn’t know if one existed in the English language. Buffy could admit that she needed him and wanted him. Who was it that said “two of out three ain’t bad”? Meat Ball? Meat Head? Meat Loaf! That was it.
 
But love him? 
 
She’d once said that she could never trust Spike enough to love him. But many things had happened since that day, including his getting the soul and her decision to de-chip him. The trust thing no longer stood between them. Buffy relied on Spike more than anyone else, it seemed. Too much, Giles said. And she couldn’t completely deny it.
 
She’d kind of become addicted to having him around the house. ‘Hello, my name is Buffy and I’m a Spikeaholic.’  Was there a twelve-step program for that?
 
She had feelings for Spike. Strong feelings. Did it matter that it was difficult to put a name to them?  Was there a word to describe feeling a thousand emotions at once, a connection that was beyond friendship and more than heat or desire?  When their lips or fingertips touched, Buffy felt alive, gloriously alive, and part of the world that she fought so valiantly to save. When he held her, she felt strong and strangely at peace—almost recharged. When Buffy was with Spike, she simply felt.
 
Somehow Spike had gotten into her heart, had become her heart even. And she didn’t want or need to explain to anyone--even Angel--exactly what Spike meant to her.
 
He wasn’t her enemy, her friend, her comrade-in-arms or her boyfriend.
 
He was simply her Spike, meant for her alone. “Mine.” The whisper left her lips and seemed to resonate in the crisp night air.
 
Feeling finally at peace with her mind and heart, Buffy slowly became aware of the evening’s chill and gave a little shudder. More than anything, she wanted to be back in her own house with Spike, telling him about the amulet and making more plans to battle the First. Just being with him.
 
Buffy rubbed her hands together to warm them and began to walk faster, not stopping ‘til the Summers home was in sight. She gave a little sigh of relief when she saw the basement light on. He’d waited up for her. The thought made her smile and move even faster.
 
Buffy was home, and like the needlepoint samplers spelled out, home is where the heart is.
 
FIN