Spike only made it to the end of the block.

As the corner came into sight, his footsteps seemed to slow of their own accord, until he was standing at the corner, not moving, his eyes closed as a deep sigh of resignation and defeat left his lips.

Buffy’s trembling lips and tearful eyes and heartfelt, tender words were etched into his memory irrevocably, and not just because it had happened only moments before. He knew that hours, days, years from now, he would still be able to picture the pain, the vulnerability, the desperation he had seen in her in that moment.

Because it was the same earnest need that he had felt for her, for the past year and a half.

And then there was the whole bloody truth spell mojo that was going on, that was probably another of Red’s bloody bollixed up brainstorms – but possibly not. Buffy had told him that the little redhead was actually doing very well at staying away from magic lately.

What if it was some other magical nasty that had it in for the Slayer and was just trying to mess with all of their minds? What if they had some other clever little trick in mind? Could he really just leave Buffy and Dawn and all the others there alone to face – whatever it was?

That settled it; he was going back.

At least until they figured out what it was they were dealing with, he told himself. Then, he would be on his way.

Harris and his girl were still out on the lawn engaged in their argument. Except, it was not so much with the argument anymore, and more with the tearful, tender embracing and confession of fears that had been hounding them both for months now. It had been only a matter of time until they came out, Spike realized.

Better now than later on down the road, when it would *really* hurt.

He paused before going inside, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly to gain their attention, just before they began a kiss that would surely lead to one of their infamous sexual escapades – and right on the Slayer’s front lawn, too.

“Eh – just so you know, there’s some sort of magic afoot…Slayer’s trying to figure out what’s goin’ on, but you might wanna come in and get with the program on it. Could be dangerous,” he informed them.

“Shut up, Deadboy,” Xander muttered before proceeding with his original plan to kiss his fiancé.

“Soddin’ stupid wanker,” Spike muttered as he turned back toward the door. He was in no mood to put up with Harris’ bloody attitude. “Not like you even deserve the bird…”

Before he could open the door, Xander was standing in his way, disbelieving fury in his dark eyes.

“What did you say?” he demanded angrily.

At any other time, Spike would have said that it was none of the boy’s bloody business and pushed past him, while being careful not to actually hurt him.

But tonight – he was bound to the truth.

“I said you bloody well don’t deserve her, you bleedin’ ponce! You’re still so bloody obsessed with the Slayer that you’ve no room in your heart for anyone else – least wise not as much as you need to *marry* someone and give ‘em the rest of your life. She’s a brilliant, beautiful woman with a lot of wisdom to offer – and you treat her like a child. You’d be best sending her on her way, and giving her a chance with an actual adult male who might be able to *really* make her happy.”

Spike followed up his little speech with a belittling downward glance and a sneer, before he tried to follow his original plan and push past the boy.

Xander would have none of it.

His dark eyes narrowed in rage as he grabbed the vampire’s arm and pushed him back away from the door. “Shut up, Spike,” he snarled, drawing back his fist and launching a furious blow at his head.

Spike ducked out of the way just in time, stepping back warily as Xander slowly advanced on him, looking for a way to get a blow in against the skilled fighter, who might not be able to hit him back at the moment, but was still pretty good at blocking.

“Who are you to talk about being obsessed with Buffy anyway?” Xander demanded angrily. “You’ve spent the past two years mooning over her, following her around like a puppy – an…annoying…rabid…toothless puppy…” Xander frowned, puzzled in the end by his own analogy, before shaking his head and returning his attention to Spike.

“When you know you’re not good enough for her – she’ll never *really* love you…The truth is, nobody really wants you here, Spike, so why don’t you just get lost?”

“No, the truth is, you stupid wanker, that you’re bloody jealous because she chose me over you!” Spike shot back angrily, forgetting himself and moving up into the larger man’s face challengingly.

Xander did not seem inclined to hit him at the moment; he was too caught off guard by his comment. Eyes wide in indignation he opened his mouth to retort.

“That is so – absolutely and completely true!”

A stunned silence followed the boy’s awkward admission.

Spike cringed inwardly at the look of hurt on Anya’s face.

She was a nice girl, if a bit different – honest and forthright and helpful, and utterly devoted to her fiancé – and he hated to see her hurt by Harris’s immaturity and insensitivity. Still, he thought, it was probably better that she find out now than later on down the road, when it was too late for her to drop Harris like the useless wanker that he was.

And said useless wanker was still running his mouth, though Spike could tell by the expression of near panic on his face that he was not really meaning to.

“I hate you, Spike! And you know why I hate you? Because Buffy lowered herself to be with you, when I’ve loved her for years and fought by her side, been right here waiting the whole time – and still she chooses an evil, soulless monster over me!”

“What can I say?” Spike shot back with a smirk. “Buffy’s got good taste!”

“Buffy’s lost her mind!” Xander retorted in a voice trembling with rage and hatred. “You’re so far beneath her it makes me want to vomit to think of her being with you! You’re disgusting, and *she’s* disgusting for touching you!” Xander punctuated his vicious words with a derisive glare – just before he leaned forward and spit in Spike’s face!

The combination of the age-old mother of all insults – which was also just bloody gross – that Xander had just dealt him, and the boy’s derisive, insulting words about Buffy, drove all thoughts of the chip or Buffy’s disapproval or any other consequences out of Spike’s mind, and he simply saw red.

Heedless of the various very good reasons why it was a *very* bad idea, Spike drew back his fist and brought it down hard across the boy’s face, knocking him to the ground, but not out.

Of course, the very next moment – he was also on the ground.

With a groan of pain, the dark-haired youth pulled himself to his feet, regarding the gasping, agonized vampire with a look of hatred and disgust.

“Yeah, Spike – I *am* jealous of you,” Xander admitted, glaring down at him as he reached into his back pocket. “Have been for a long time. Can’t understand what Buffy sees in you – just can’t stand it. In fact, I’ve just been *waiting* for this moment – waiting for you to give me the reason I need.”

As he spoke, he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at it for a moment as a cruel smile formed on his lips.

Spike was only vaguely aware of his advance, still in too much pain to focus, as Xander drew his stake, closing the distance between them as he muttered, “I am *really* going to enjoy this!”

Just as Xander pulled his hand back to strike the killing blow against his kneeling, helpless rival, a remarkably strong hand grabbed his arm and spun him around – bringing him face to face with five feet, two inches and one hundred pounds of furious blonde Slayer.

“What the *hell* do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, horrified, as she snatched the stake from her friend’s hand, pushing him behind her more roughly than necessary as she rushed to Spike’s side, crouching down beside him with concern in her anxious green eyes.

“You okay?” she asked him, frowning as she looked him over.

He had just about recovered from the chip’s assault, and he nodded a bit wearily, gratefully accepting the hand she offered to help him to his feet, while returning his disgusted, derisive gaze to Xander, as he wiped the boy’s saliva from his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, pet. Never better,” he said dryly – and then frowned, wondering for a moment how he could have said that while under the truth spell that was affecting them all.

He shrugged it off, realizing that the sarcasm in his voice was clear enough for the comment to slide by.

His attention was immediately drawn from his thoughts by the furious sound of Buffy’s trembling, angry voice. She was right up in Xander’s face, as intimidating as her small frame would allow.

Which was actually -- *very* intimidating.

“Just what did you think you were doing?” she demanded of her friend furiously. “I told you to leave Spike alone! What made you think for two seconds that it was suddenly okay to try to stake him?”

Xander’s expression was defensive, but his words were hopelessly honest and revealing as he replied without hesitation, “He *did* manage to hurt me – I thought I could get away with it if I told you his chip had stopped working.”

Buffy’s fiery anger suddenly faded with the sheer shock of his words – shifting to something much worse, from Xander’s perspective. Disgust – disappointment – horror…

Betrayal.

“I told you I was in *love* with him, Xander,” she said finally, her eyes wide and shocked, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. She didn’t *want* to believe that Xander could do something like that to her. “How could you – how could you even *consider* killing the man that I love, and then lying to me to cover it up? What, were you going to just -- *lie* to me while I was grieving him? For the rest of my *life*? How could you? *Why*?”

That anguished question was Xander’s doom – because he could not but answer with the truth.

“Because I thought if he was dead then maybe you’d finally notice what’s been right in front of your eyes all along – me.”

Shattered. That was the only word for the expression on Anya’s face at that moment, as she took in her fiance’s bitter, jealous words, revealing his intense desire for another woman.

Buffy was aghast at the troubling revelation her “friend” had just made. She had known that Xander had had a crush on her back in high school, but he had been with Anya for – well, for years now – and she had never even considered the idea that he might still harbor such disturbingly intense feelings for *her*.

Spike had never made it past the part of the conversation where Buffy had referred to him as the “*man* she loved”.

He was slowly reaching a cautious acceptance of the fact that he had once held so firmly – that she *did* love him. But to hear her come to his defense so emphatically, so firmly, to hear that she thought of him as the *man* that he had thought he could never really be again…

It touched him beyond expression.

“Xander,” Buffy replied slowly but emphatically, a quiet incredulity in her expression. “I *don’t* love you. Not like that. You’re my friend – but I’m in *love* with Spike…”

“He’s a monster, Buffy! He’s not even human! How can you do this to us? To *yourself*?”

“It’s *my life*!” Buffy nearly shouted her frustration. “I’m not doing *anything* to you! I’m doing whatever I’m doing because it’s what *I* want for a change! If I wanna be with Spike, it’s none of your business!”

“Fine, Buffy!” Xander shot back, his voice trembling with rage. “But don’t expect me to stand by and watch you ruin your life!”

“Fine!” Buffy retorted without hesitation. Gesturing dramatically toward her door without thinking about it, she declared, “There’s the door!” – before suddenly realizing that the standard comeback did not really fit at the moment. “And you can feel free to – stay on – this side of it – if you want,” she adjusted awkwardly, an adorably confused frown on her face that Spike had always found irresistible, even when she *wasn’t* taking his side against her best friend.

Xander’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you telling me that you’d really choose that – that *thing* over me?” he demanded, disbelieving and accusing.

“I don’t want to choose, Xander,” Buffy said sadly, shaking her head. “You’ve been my friend for so long – but – if you *make* me choose…”

Xander caught the hesitation in her voice, and latched onto it. “I am. I’m making you choose, Buffy. This is it. Him or me.”

Buffy’s eyes widened for a moment before she looked down at the ground, suddenly sober and subdued. Spike could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes, and would have loved to attack the stupid soddin’ wanker right then and there for putting her in such a painful spot – would have, too – if not for the remnants of the electric current still tingling through his head from the last time.

“Fine, then,” Buffy said softly. “I don’t like it – I don’t want to – but if that’s the way it has to be…” She raised her eyes slowly to meet Xander’s, sorrow mingling with a fiery determination in her gaze as she gave her answer.

“Him.”

Without waiting for Xander’s reaction, she turned, reaching out to take Spike’s hand as she headed back toward the house, hoping against hope that he would allow it, and would not shame her by rejecting her hand in this intense moment.

Whether it was from shock, or acceptance of her declaration of her feelings – he *did* accept it, clasping her hand in his as she led him through the front door and into the living room, where everyone had apparently finally gathered.

Maybe Spike would never be hers again. Maybe she had spoiled that.

But regardless of the result, there was something she needed to make right.

She gave Spike a long, meaningful look that told him without a word exactly what she meant to do -- and his eyes widened in open astonishment, his lips parting to object -- but he could form no objection.

Not when he had *wanted* her to do this for so long.

Buffy gave him a reassuring smile as she squeezed his hand, and and turned to lead him with her to the center of the living room.

“Guys,” she said softly, clearing her throat to get their attention, and the murmur of various conversations gradually died down. “There’s something I need to say.”


Outside on the lawn, Xander’s jaw had dropped completely, as he stared after his best friend, stunned and devastated by her decision. Automatically he turned toward his fiancé for the support that she always provided, incredulous.

“Ahn, did you *see* that? How could she…?” His voice trailed off when he turned to see the stricken look on her unusually pale face, green eyes wide as they focused on his face, trying to read the love there that she had always thought she had seen.

“Anya,” Xander said softly, shaking his head in remorse as he remembered the things he had said – things he had never intended to be known to either her *or* Buffy. “Anya, honey…”

She drew back as he attempted to put his arms around her, stating in a low, trembling voice of emotion, “*No*.”

Xander froze, watching her, waiting breathlessly, as a cold sense of fear began to steal over him.

*No – no, not her too…*

Anya’s deep, open eyes searched his for a long moment before she said softly, her words and tone of certainty making his heart skip a beat.

“Choose, Xander. Her or me.”

Xander’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was an impossible choice. He loved Anya – he did…but…he would *always* love Buffy…how could he possibly…

He stood there as the seconds ticked by, shaking his head slightly, unable to respond at all.

Anya swallowed hard, her expression setting with resignation, as she whispered, “That’s what I thought.”

And without another word she turned and walked away, down the walkway to the sidewalk.

“Anya!” he called, taking a few steps toward her. “Anya, wait!”

He started to go after her – but then suddenly stopped, remembering Buffy’s furious exit and the state of their friendship at the moment. The two most important women in his life were both walking away from him – and he could only go after one of them.

He stood there for a moment, torn by indecision…

…before turning and making his way quickly back into the house.