Disclaimer: All the characters are Joss Whedon's.

Thanks so much to all my reviewers! Sorry about the cliffhanger! Hopefully this chapter will tide you over until I get caught up at work. 


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Chapter 15
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Buffy jerked around in response to Spike’s cry. She roared in pain and vamped as the stake buried itself in her shoulder, missing its target by about three inches. She spun and instinctively punched Xander square in the face, triggering the chip and causing her to sink to her knees, clutching her head and groaning.
 
Spike tackled the still reeling Xander to the ground, punching him twice more in the face as he bellowed, “What the fuck is your problem?”
 
Coughing, nose bleeding, Xander answered, “You’re under his control, don’t you see that? You need help, Buffy!”
 
“Not Buffy, asshole!” Spike snarled, grabbing Xander’s lapels and shaking him like a terrier shaking a rat. “The spell didn’t work! You almost killed her you motherfucking prick!” He dropped Xander with disgust, getting up and moving swiftly to Buffy’s side. She was still curled in a ball, moaning. “Easy love,” he soothed. He wrapped his hand around the stake protruding from her shoulder. “On three, yeah?” She nodded, gritting her teeth against the pain. “One, two…” With a sudden yank he pulled the stake free, causing her to roar in pain once more. Spike pulled her in to his chest, comforting her while he turned to the others and said, “Could one of you manage to get your heads out of your asses long enough to get something to stop the blood?”
 
Anya was the first to recover, and she ran into the bathroom to grab a hand towel. She handed it to Spike, who held it over the gaping hole in Buffy’s shoulder. “Should I go get some blood?” she asked.
 
“Yeah, that would help,” Spike said. Anya glared at Xander, shook her head, and left on her errand.
 
Buffy was still vamped, but her vision was finally clearing and she sat up somewhat, wincing as her shoulder and her head fought for attention. She fixed Spike’s yellow demon eyes on Xander and he unconsciously edged back away from her slightly. “Why?” she snapped.
 
“I didn’t realize the spell hadn’t worked,” Xander babbled. “I’m so sorry…”
 
“No,” Buffy interrupted, making her way painfully to her feet, shaking off Spike’s tender hands gently. She advanced on Xander, who kept inching away, crab crawling backward from the angry demon in front of him. “I want to know why you thought you could just stab Spike, in the back, with no provocation.”
 
“Buffy, look, something’s happened to you!” Xander cried. “Spike is the enemy! You would never be in any sort of relationship with him if you were yourself. You need help!”
 
Despite her injuries, Buffy was on him in a flash, causing Willow to gasp and move forward to help him. Spike held her back with a muttered, “Stay the fuck out of this, Red.”
 
Buffy had yanked Xander to his feet and pulled him close, wincing at the minor shocks this caused. “I am only saying this once. Nothing. Is. Wrong. With. Me. I can associate with who I want, when I want, in whatever way I want. Spike is not my enemy. Not anymore. If you ever touch him, or even think about hurting him, I will break every bone in your body. Are we clear?”
 
Xander went pale. “B… Buffy, it’s me! It’s Xander!” he squeaked. “I’m on your side, remember?”
 
“No, you’re not,” Buffy hissed. “People on my side don’t go behind my back and try to kill someone I consider a friend. People on my side don’t bulldoze their way through my life with no concern for my feelings. If you’re on my side, I don’t need any fucking enemies.” She let him go and turned back to Spike, staggering a little from the blood loss.
 
“Sit down, pet,” Spike urged, leading her to the couch. He reapplied the towel to her still bleeding wound. He glared at Xander. “You need to get the hell away from me. Now. She’s got a chip in her head. I don’t, and I could tear your fucking head off right now you bastard.”
 
“It was a mistake…” Xander began, but Willow put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Xander just… just go home for now, okay?” Willow said gently. “I’ll send Anya to you when she gets back.” Xander opened his mouth to protest again, but Willow shook her head. Spike and Buffy’s accusing stares caused him to swallow nervously, then back swiftly out of the room.
 
Buffy was still vamped out, massaging her temples while Spike tried to staunch the blood. Willow stood there shell shocked, unsure of what to do. “Get the first aid kit, for God’s sake,” Spike snapped at her. Willow scampered off to the office and was back in a few seconds.
 
She handed the kit to Spike and said, “Can I… how can I help?” Her voice was shaky, and she was clearly nervous around Buffy.
 
“Willow, just… go in the other room right now,” Buffy said quietly. “Please.”
 
“I don’t know why it didn’t work,” Willow tried to explain, but Buffy stopped her with a gesture. “Just leave me alone for a while,” she said. Wringing her hands, Willow went into the other room and sat down at the table, arms wrapped around herself.
 
Spike had Buffy take off her shirt, and he winced anew at the ragged hole in her back. Jesus Christ that was close, he thought as he cleaned the wound. A couple of inches and she’d be gone. Rage boiled in him anew as he thought about Xander. “Gonna kill that son of a bitch,” he growled.
 
“Don’t,” Buffy said in a tired voice. “Even if he deserves it.”
 
“You know I won’t do that to you, Slayer,” he reassured her. “But he’d better stay the hell away from me.”
 
“I’m not really in his Fan Club right now either,” she said. She grimaced as Spike started taping gauze over the wound.
 
“All done,” he said in a moment. “Why don’t you lie down for a moment? Anya will be back soon with the blood.”
 
Buffy did as he told her and carefully lay down on her side. “Makes me feel a little guilty for all the vamps I’ve staked over the years,” she admitted. “Hurts like hell.”
 
“Don’t be going soft on us vamps, now,” Spike admonished her. “Ninety nine percent of us need to be put down straight away. And if you don’t miss, it’s quick. Don’t need you hesitating and letting some demon have a good day.”
 
Buffy was slightly taken aback at the harshness of his tone, but then she noticed his hands. They shook slightly as they put away the extra bandages and such, and his borrowed human face was pale. “Are you okay?” she asked tentatively.
 
“Yeah,” he said in a near whisper. He kept his gaze averted from her, but she could see that his eyes were moist, and entirely too wide.
 
“Spike, look at me,” Buffy said, tugging gently on his arm.
 
He turned reluctantly to face her, and his eyes registered his fright. “I could have lost you again,” he said in a cracking voice. “Another three inches…”
 
“It’s okay,” Buffy soothed. Her face finally lost its ridges and fangs as she melted under his concern and distress. “You warned me. You saved me.”
 
“They won’t take you from me again,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard. “So help me God I will not let anyone take you from me.” Although the voice was hers, the menace and steel underlying it was pure Spike. “No one is taking you away unless you decide to go.”
 
“Shh,” she said as he dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face. She looked at him, with his love and devotion for her shining like a beacon, and she knew. She finally knew exactly how she felt about him. “Spike, I love you,” she whispered. Spike froze, then slowly lifted his head to look into her eyes, his mouth dropping open in amazement. His mouth moved but no sound came out, and finally Buffy gently tugged him down to touch her lips tenderly to his. “I love you. And I won’t leave you.”
 
“Oh, Buffy,” he breathed, kissing her again. “I’m yours. Do with me what you will, but I’m yours.” They kissed again, only stopping when they heard the shop door ring.
 
Anya came bustling in with a brown bag from the butcher’s. “I got two pints. I hope that’s enough.”
 
“Should be fine for now. Thanks, Anya,” Buffy said, sitting up with a small groan. Spike handed her the first container and she drank it gratefully, even as she wrinkled her nose slightly.
 
Anya looked around. “Where’s Xander?” she asked suddenly. “You didn’t actually kill him, did you?”
 
“No, he is still alive,” grumbled Spike. “But if he wishes to remain so he’d better stay clear of me. He touches me or Buffy again and I will put his sorry ass in the hospital.”
 
Anya sighed. “Where is he now?”
 
“Willow sent him home,” Buffy answered, reaching for the second container of blood.
 
“I guess I should go talk to him,” Anya said. “Really, I don’t understand him sometimes.”
 
“You’re too good for him, demon girl,” Spike insisted.
 
“Well, he gives me lots of orgasms, so I guess that counts for something,” she said in her forthright way. “I’ll see if I can get him to see reason.”
 
“Most appreciated,” Spike said. Anya shook her head again and went into the main room. Willow was still sitting at the table, flipping idly through spellbooks.
 
“I can’t figure out what went wrong,” she said to Anya. “It should have worked.”
 
Anya shrugged. “Maybe it’s because their auras aren’t damaged. They’re just misplaced. If they aren’t actually broken, you can’t fix them with a healing spell.”
 
“I guess I didn’t think of it that way,” Willow admitted. “I just wanted to get things back to normal.”
 
“Well, normal is relative around here,” Anya snorted. “I mean let’s face it – most people don’t have vampires, witches, ex-demons, and Slayers in their circle of friends. What do any of us know about normal?”
 
“I sort of meant normal for us,” Willow explained. “I thought I could help fix things before anything got worse.”
 
“I don’t know. Other than the fact that they’re in each other’s bodies, nothing seems particularly bad. In fact, they both seem pretty happy for a change,” Anya observed.
 
“Yeah, but…” Willow began.
 
“But what?” Anya interrupted. “Are you saying that normal means they’re miserable? Because if that’s the case I wouldn’t want to be normal either.”
 
“No, that’s not what I mean!” Willow said, growing more confused by the moment. She struggled to put her muddled feelings into words, but failed. “I don’t know what I mean anymore,” she said finally, slumping back in her chair.
 
The bell rang again as Tara and Dawn entered. “Hey guys!” Dawn chirped. “What’s going on?”
 
“Willow tried to fix the misplaced aura problem with a spell, which didn’t work, but Xander didn’t realize it hadn’t worked, so he tried to stake Buffy,” Anya rattled off.
 
“What?” chorused Dawn and Tara. “Is she alright?” Dawn said frantically.
 
“They’re in the back room,” Anya said, and Dawn immediately dashed into the training room to see what the damage was.
 
“Anya, slow down and tell me again. What happened?” Tara asked.
 
Anya went through the whole narrative in her usual tactless style, while Willow grew redder and slouched lower and lower in her chair. “Anyhow,” Anya finished. “Buffy’s in the back getting patched up, and I should go home and make sure Xander’s nose has stopped bleeding. Willow, can you mind the store for a while?”
 
“Yeah, sure,” Willow said dejectedly. Anya grabbed her purse and left, leaving Tara and Willow across the table from each other in awkward silence.
 
“I didn’t hurt them,” Willow said, her eyes pleading with Tara to understand. “The spell didn’t do anything to them. If Xander hadn’t tried to stake what he thought was Spike, the spell would have just dissipated.”
 
“I know, Willow,” Tara said. “I guess I wish you had consulted with me first. Healing spells are my thing, remember? I could have told you it wouldn’t work for something like this.”
 
“How could I know Xander was going to go off like that?”
 
“Do you know what set him off this time?” Tara asked.
 
Willow chewed her lip. “He came over early this morning. Spike and Buffy were still sleeping. Together. In Buffy’s room. It really weirded us both out.”
 
Tara took a deep breath. “It’s weird but… Willow, it’s her house! Did you ever ask her permission before sleeping with me?”
 
“N…no…”
 
“Then for the love of the Goddess why can’t you leave her and Spike alone?” Tara cried. “Don’t you see how… how smothering that must be for her?”
 
“But I didn’t mean…” Willow began.
 
“I know you didn’t, but it’s got to stop.” Willow and Tara turned to see Spike and Buffy entering the room, a worried Dawn trailing behind. Buffy went on, “Willow, I need you to move out.”
 
Willow’s eyes got wide. “But Buffy… I’m really sorry! I promise to stay out of your business and…”
 
“No, Willow,” Buffy said firmly, and Spike squeezed her hand in support. “I need my own space. I need some time to figure out who I am now and what I want. And I don’t want my every move scrutinized while I do.”
 
Tears started welling up in Willow’s eyes as she said, “But I thought we were friends.”
 
“We are, or I think we can be again,” Buffy replied. “I’m not saying I won’t ever talk to you again. But I need my space and my privacy back. I can’t live under a microscope any more. I won’t.”
 
Willow looked to Tara for support, but Tara was shaking her head sadly. She looked to Dawn; surely Dawn would protest. She had practically been Dawn’s parent last summer! But Dawn shot her a dirty look before focusing worriedly on her sister.
 
“We’re going to go home now,” Spike said to Willow. “Tonight, if Buffy’s shoulder is healed up, we’re going out to find those assholes with the Amnesia Ray. If we need you, we’ll call.” Turning to Tara he said, “We might need your help. Do you mind coming with us?”
 
“Sure. Dawn, do you want to ride with me, or with them?” Tara asked.
 
“I’ll go with them,” the teen answered. She was chewing her lip with worry as she watched Buffy putting Spike’s duster with careful, pained movements. They made their way toward the back door, and Dawn and Spike both helped shield Buffy as they bustled her into the back of Joyce’s car.
 
Tara picked up her purse and headed toward the front door. She turned back to Willow for a second and said, “I’ll pack up your stuff for you, okay?” Willow nodded, tears making their way down her cheeks. Tara ached for her, but forced herself to turn and walk out the door, leaving Willow in the empty store.

TBC