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Destroying Entropy by BuffyMeetsSpike
 
Chapter 14
 
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Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created all the cool characters. Thanks Mr. Whedon!
 
Thanks once more to all the reviewers who took a few minutes to give me feedback. It is greatly appreciated. Enjoy the final chapter, with the challenge requirements at the end.
 
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Destroying Entropy – Chapter 14
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Three months passed, with life settling gradually into a routine. Buffy had managed to find a job teaching kickboxing at a local gym, having stunned them by her demonstration during the interview. She had to tone things down somewhat for a non-slayer audience, but she enjoyed it immensely. The hours weren’t particularly long, and although the pay wasn’t stellar, it was enough once Tara and Willow’s money was added in. Willow had managed to wrangle more of a monthly allowance from her wealthy parents, and Tara had begun working for pay at the Magic Box, helping Anya and giving her some time off. Tara had also befriended the former demon, listening to her and allowing her to vent when she needed it. Spike had had less luck finding anything that wasn’t illegal, which Buffy wouldn’t tolerate, but he helped Dawn out with her homework and patrolled for Buffy sometimes when she was worn out after a long day. He also turned out to be more of a linguist than anyone suspected, and was very helpful with translating certain annoying demon languages and doing research.
 
Buffy came home on this particular day rather sweaty, having had to cover an extra class for another instructor. She opened the door and said, “Hey, I’m home!” She didn’t hear an answer immediately. Dawn had left a note saying she had gone to the library, and the witches were out. Setting her gym bag down, she rolled her eyes at the sight of several mugs of blood coagulating in the sink again. Moving on into the living room, she found a few random demonology texts on the coffee table, an empty beer bottle, and she tripped over a black Doc Marten boot. “Spike?” she called. She went upstairs and realized that the shower was running. The bedroom looked like a cyclone had hit it. Despite Spike’s promise to straighten up a bit, there were toppled candles, undergarments, and at least one ripped shirt littering the room, along with some empty cigarette packs. The only thing that seemed to actually be put away was his duster, hung carefully in the closet, without noticing that he had knocked one of her sweaters to the floor in the process.
 
“Ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba ba. I wanna be sedated!” Spike had such a lovely voice, when he wasn’t screaming the Ramones in the shower at the top of his lungs. Ok, I used to have a somewhat tidy, reasonably normal home. Now, I’ve got blood stained coffee cups, scary looking ancient texts, and a bedroom that looks like someone had a fight in here. The man is a walking chaos machine. She stared at the mess, bemused and shaking her head, then headed back downstairs.
 
There had been no word from Xander since Willow left him at the hospital. Willow had gotten curious after a week and called him, to find that there was never any answer. After another week the red-haired witch had gone to see if he was there, only to find his name removed from the mailbox and the apartment empty. Anya hadn’t heard from him either, and let Willow know that she was extremely glad to be free of him. Willow had been worried and had wanted to do a locator spell to find him, but Tara and Buffy had made it very clear that she would be out on her ear if she even thought about it. Surprisingly it was Spike who really smoothed the situation over by saying, “Give the bloke some time, Red. He’s just had his ass handed to him. Needs to go off and kick himself for a while. ‘S what blokes do.” At last, Willow had reluctantly let it go.
 
Buffy fetched the mail and started sorting through it on the dining table. Bill… junk… bill… junk… junk… She stopped and looked at the last envelope which was addressed to her in familiar looking handwriting. She opened it slowly with shaking fingers.
 
Dear Buffy,
 
I know you said you never wanted to hear from me again. But one of the steps in AA is making amends to those you have hurt through your drinking. I figured you were probably number one on the list.
 
It took me a long time to admit to myself how wrong I was. I was such a loser before I met you. You brought me into a bigger world, even if it was a world with a lot more demons that I really needed. You made me part of something important, and kept me from being just the loser son of a couple of loser drunks. I had you up on a pedestal, and somewhere along the way I forgot that you’re more than just the Slayer. I forgot that there was a human behind all the weapons.
 
I used the booze as an excuse to try to somehow, I don’t know, pay you back for turning out to be flawed. Or something. But whatever reasoning I had, I was wrong. I hurt you, and then I wanted to hurt you more by killing Spike, partly because he was a vampire, but mostly because he had you and I didn’t. I let the booze and the jealousy control me, and in the end I hurt you and broke your spirit. And the knowledge that I did that, to someone who has saved my life twenty times over, will haunt me for the rest of my life.
 
I’m living near L.A. now. I’ve got a new construction job, and I haven’t touched a drink in two months. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you’ll read this and it will give you some sort of closure.
 
Take care,
Xander
 
Buffy’s hands shook slightly as she put the letter down on the table. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the flashback. But this time it didn’t come. For weeks after their last confrontation she had been plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. They had become less frequent, but still happened sometimes when something reminded her of that night. Now, other than that shaky feeling, she was ok.
 
“What’s that, love?” Spike had come into the dining room, shirtless and still toweling off his hair. He dropped the towel on the floor as Buffy handed him the letter in silence. He read it over, his face giving nothing away. “How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously. He had been the one holding her during all those nightmares, soothing her during panic attacks, being patient with her in bed. He had been relieved to see her gradually returning to normal. But here was Harris, popping up like a prairie dog again, and he wasn’t sure how Buffy was going to take it.
 
“I’m… I’m ok,” she said, as if she scarcely believed it. “I actually didn’t have any Technicolor flashbacks for a change.”
 
Spike let out a breath that he hadn’t been aware he had taken. “So glad to hear that,” he said. He stroked her hair as she leaned against him, wrapping her arm around him to pull him close. “Wouldn’t want to have to drive to L.A. to beat the tar out of him for upsetting my girl again.”
 
Buffy smiled. His girl. She had once screamed that she would never be his girl, but she had long since eaten those words. “I still don’t want to see him, but I am glad he’s getting help. Maybe someday…”
 
“Never say never, pet,” Spike advised. “I thought I would never have a chance with you and I was wrong. Harris might have a use someday, you never know.”
 
Buffy stood up and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deeply. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” she said smiling her million watt smile. Her eye caught the towel on the floor, and noticed the other of Spike’s boots there as well. She kissed him again then said, “I think what I really want to talk about is…”
 
“Yes?” he purred suggestively.
 
“Housekeeping,” she responded in a breathy voice.
 
Spike came up short and cocked an eyebrow at her. “That’s supposed to drive me mad with lust?”
 
“No. But if you want to drive me mad with lust, I suggest you start picking up after yourself,” she said, looking pointedly at his belongings on the floor in the dining room, and then turning her gaze to the wreck of the living room beyond.
 
“Ah, well, I got a bit sidetracked,” he said with a grin. “I mean, I am evil. Dedicated to chaos and mayhem and all that. Can’t go against my nature now.”
 
“Believe me,” Buffy said as she broke away and picked up the towel. “I promise not to lose interest in you if you perform domestic acts, and I won’t tell any of your demon buddies.” She stepped back and with a lighting movement snapped him with the towel. “Now get to work, vampire.
 
“Ooh, you’re going to pay for that, Slayer,” he growled as they chased each other upstairs, laughing.
 
The End

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Challenge Requirements:
Challenge 477
Name:  Jags
Email:    lonewolfjags@gmail.com
Season:                Season 2
 
I would like to see a fic where Xander believably rapes/attempts to rape Buffy and Spike saves/picks up the pieces. I want it to be a bit dark (obviously) but also fluffy and don't be afraid to pour in the angst. I don't particularly care when it's set. Have fun.
 
 
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