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The Wind Beneath My Wings by slaymesoftly
 
Three
 
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Chapter Three


She ignored Willow’s questioning glance, and marched out the door and onto the sidewalk. Full night had fallen, and the street, while still crowded, was lit only where there were lights from a building or from a street light. The rooftops, alleys and other non- business areas were all dark, with many places in which a creature of the night could hide unseen.

In a sudden burst of respect for tradition, Angel and Buffy had agreed to remain apart the night before their wedding and, with a quick kiss, she sent him off to his own hotel room. It was soon obvious to Willow and Xander that Buffy had no intention of going back to her own room anytime soon, and they eventually took the hint and said their good-nights.

With great relief, Buffy turned and quickly left the hotel, allowing her feet to take her wherever they would as she wandered around waiting for the vampire who she was sure was watching her. Without thinking, she had wandered toward the church where she and Angel were scheduled to become man and wife the following day. She approached it hesitantly, wondering if it would be locked or if she even wanted to go inside if it wasn’t. With some trepidation, she pushed on the heavy door, finding that it was open and allowed entrance to the darkened nave. Only a few candles burning near the altar relieved the darkness and Buffy slid into a pew near the back, leaning forward and resting her head on her hands.

She showed no surprise when the familiar tingle began on the back of her neck, waiting patiently for the sound of his leather coat as he entered the church and sat down in the very last pew, directly behind her.

“Don’t turn around, luv,” he begged when she shifted her weight. “It’s easier this way.”

“Easier for who?” she snapped, immediately regretting that her first words to him were combative and angry. “I’m sorry,“ she blurted, whirling around. “I didn’t mean---“ She stopped, frozen by the raw emotion in the eyes boring into hers.

“Hello, cutie,” he whispered, never shifting his gaze. “Did you miss me?”

“How can you ask me that?” She kept her voice to the same soft level as his, but it trembled with pain and anger. “How can you ask me that, Spike?”

He didn’t reply immediately, just continued to stare at her like a starving man suddenly presented with a banquet. If he noticed the anger in her eyes, he didn’t let it distract him from his visual feast.

“You look good, love,” he finally said, as though he hadn’t heard her question. “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Realization of what was about to happen to her life hit her with sledgehammer force. Waiting for her back at the hotel was the man she’d loved since she was sixteen. Facing her, from the back of the church in which she was to marry that man, was the vampire she had come to love and depend on in ways she’d never dreamed of doing with anyone else.

“Why now, Spike? Why did you wait until now?”

He dropped his eyes. “I’m weak, Buffy. You’ve always known that. I couldn’t bear not seeing you again before you—before…”

“And ‘The Wind Beneath My Wings’? What the hell was that all about?”

“Ah, pet. That was me jus’ being a wanker. Had to do it. Had to see what you—if it—I’m sorry, love. It was a bloody stupid thing to do. I know that. I’m sorry,“ he repeated, staring at his folded hands.

“If you wanted to see me, why didn’t you just come? Why wait until now – until I’m about to marry somebody else? Why didn’t you come to me, Spike?” She mentally cursed the plaintive note that she couldn’t keep from her voice.

“You had what you wanted, yeah? Didn’t need me mucking about and confusing things for you…” He stopped talking and raised his head. “It would have confused things, wouldn’t it?” he ventured, hope for this final crumb shining in his suddenly intent gaze.

“Would have, could have, still is,” she muttered. “Unless you don’t want me anymore…” She looked up suddenly. “Is that it? Is that why you didn’t find me? You don’t love me any more?”

“If that’s what you need to believe, Buffy—“

She rose to her feet and pointed toward the door, gesturing that they were to go outside. She was fairly certain that the conversation was about to become louder than would be appropriate for a church. As soon as they were safely on the building’s front steps, she whirled on him, not quite yelling, “Never mind what I need to believe. Answer my question. Don’t you love me anymore? Is that why you stayed away? Or is it just that you didn’t believe me when I told you I loved you?”

“What do you want, Buffy?” His own anger, always quick to match hers, making his voice even louder. “Do you want me to say I don’t love you any more? Will that free you to marry him without feeling guilty?”

“I don’t feel guilty!” she yelled, even as the sinking feeling in her stomach told her that it was a lie. That the emotion, which had been sending her into panic mode so often over the past few months, was exactly that - guilt. Guilt that she hadn’t told Spike she loved him soon enough. Guilt that she was marrying Angel, knowing that she no longer loved him the way he thought she did. And now, more guilt, that the vampire who had loved her, if not the longest, then certainly the most, was going to have to watch her pledge herself to another man. It was too much. She dropped her voice again, whispering through impending tears. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Just…just let it go, love…Be happy.”

The tiny catch in his voice brought her eyes up, to find that he was also blinking back tears. With a shake of her head, she forced herself to meet his eyes steadily as she asked, “What makes you think I can be happy without you?”

“Have done, haven’t you? Been without me for near to three years now. You look to be doing all right. Nice home, shiny new human boyfriend. ‘S what you always wanted, isn’t it? A home, a family. Chance to raise some little bitty slayers.” He shook his head and looked away. “I’ve got nothing to offer you, Slayer. Take what you’ve been given. Enjoy it. If…when…I think I can handle it, I’ll come ‘round. Maybe I can be the little bits’ devilishly handsome ‘Uncle Spike’, yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was a whisper again as she tried to process what he was saying. “Why are you doing this to me? To us?”

“Because I love you.” His voice was gentle. “Because you deserve better. Not saying Peaches is it, mind you.” He laughed softly, his voice shaky. “But he’s closer to it than I am. He can give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve. Let him love you, Buffy. Let him make you happy.”

With a whisper of air, his lips brushed over hers and he was gone; striding down the street, his coat billowing out behind him. Buffy’s hand was on her lips, her mind still processing his words, when she remembered what Angel had said earlier in the evening. “…after all, I’m the one who got the girl in the end.” With a sobbing laugh, she leapt from the top step, running down the street and tackling the vampire just as he turned to face her.

Her momentum carried them to the ground, Spike on his back with the slayer sprawled on top of him. Instinctively his hands had gripped her sides to hold her in place while she got her breath. He frowned at her as she struggled to get enough air to finally gasp out, “What if I don’t want him to make me happy? What if I’d rather be unhappy with you?”

“Buffy…” he began, shaking his head, “You don’t—“

Forgoing any attempt to use words to convince the vampire, she went directly to the one thing she was sure he couldn’t argue with. Surging up his body, she fastened her mouth on his, moving her lips until she felt him begin to respond; then she touched her tongue to his lower lip, nudging it insistently. With a groan of surrender, he opened his mouth and began to return her kiss. Once he had admitted defeat, all his defenses went down and he clutched her like a man drowning; pouring into it the years of heartache and desperation. His arms banded around her body, pulling her against his chest in a way that would have been painful for a normal woman.

Not to be outdone, the slayer fisted her hands in his hair, holding his head in a death grip, as though there might be some question as to whether or not he would remain if she didn’t hold him in place. It wasn’t until they had drawn an appreciative crowd that either of them remembered that they were lying on a public street in a busy city. Buffy raised her head, took one look at the leering faces above them and buried her face in his neck.

“Are they still there?” she whispered, feeling his chest rumble with laughter.

“Oh yeah, Slayer,” he chuckled. “They’re still there. I think they’re waitin’ for the next act.”

“Oh, so not happening,” she growled, kissing him again quickly when she felt him tense beneath her. “Not here. Not now. I didn’t mean not ever,” she whispered before she released his hair and looked down to be sure he understood her.

When she saw the defensive shields drop from his eyes, to be replaced with a dawning hunger, she knew it was safe to get off and let him up. Once the two were on their feet and Spike had flashed some fang at the curious crowd, the onlookers began to hasten away, leaving them standing alone facing each other on the street. As Buffy remained silent, staring at him, she could see the protective fences going back up as he began to doubt her words again.

His shoulders dropped, as did the hands that had been resting on her hips. He stepped back and fumbled in his pockets for his cigarettes, pulling them out and playing with the pack as an excuse not to look at her. When he had put one in his mouth and lit it to his satisfaction, he dropped his lighter back into his duster pocket and followed it with his hands. He looked away, his back hunched protectively as he mumbled, “I’m sorry, love.”

The automatic “What for?” didn’t leave Buffy’s lips as she accepted the reality of the situation and realized that she had no idea how she was going to resolve it. For her response, she chose instead to kick a mailbox, succeeding only in hurting her foot. She hopped around on her uninjured foot briefly, hoping he would at least laugh at her, but the vampire remained silent and passive.

“That should have been your ass, you know,” she groused. The longer he remained uncharacteristically silent, the more frightened she became and the harder she tried to get his attention.

“Would be your right, pet,” he said softly. “I’ve really bunged it up this time, haven’t I?”

“Well…yeah,” she agreed reluctantly, grabbing his sleeve with blinding speed when it seemed he was going to leave. “But not as much as you would have if you’d really died back in that alley.” Her voice was equally soft as she pulled him toward her. She lifted the other hand and cupped his cheek, sighing when he involuntarily leaned into her palm and closed his eyes.

Reassured that he wasn’t about to run off, she slid her hand down his sleeve and linked their fingers. Tugging gently, she began the walk back to her hotel, keeping a tight grip on his hand as the tension in his body told her that he was still thinking about bolting. She kept her grip on his hand until they approached to door to the hotel, where he balked and refused to follow her.

“Where are we going?”

“To my room. Duh! We aren’t through here, and I’m really not that interested in entertaining any more random strangers than we already have.”

His face closed down, even as his feet obediently followed her into the building and to the elevators. At the last second, she turned away and pulled him into the stairwell, pushing him against the wall as soon as the door closed behind them.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Instead of answering her, he lifted his hand and ran it down her arm, smiling sadly when she shivered at his touch.

“So, we’re to have a last hurrah, are we? Something to remember when you and Peaches have tied the knot and sent me on my way?”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Is that what you want?” Her face was closed as she took in his words and realized he thought they were saying ‘good-bye’. She waited, her chest getting tighter by the second as he stared into her eyes.

“What I want isn’t really the point, is it, pet?”

“Yes, you bonehead! What you want is exactly the point! If I don’t know what you want, how can I know what I should do? If you don’t want to have se—make love right now, that’s fine. But give me a good reason, Spike. Don’t act like I’m using you and then sending you away.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” he sighed, his tense posture relaxing just the slightest bit.

“I’m sorry, okay?” The apology surprised him almost as much as the tears he could see her blinking back. “I don’t know what to do – or how to do it - and I’ve got less than twelve hours to figure it out. I don’t know if I should send you away and go get you when I’ve broken it off; or if I should just let everybody know you’re here and…and…that’s just not fair to—“

“What are you sayin’, Buffy?” His body was once again as taut as a bowstring. She could almost see it quivering as he waited for her to respond.

“I’m saying,” she said with firm conviction, holding his chin and looking directly into his eyes, “that I can’t marry Angel. Not now that I know you’re alive. And before you say anything stupid and noble—“ She moved her hand to his mouth, effectively stopping the words before they left his lips. “Before you do that,” she continued sadly, “you need to know that I will be breaking it off tomorrow no matter what you do. I don’t love him. Not the way I love you; and it’s not fair of me to marry him knowing that I don’t love him. So, if you want to be all noble and run away so that I can marry Angel and have a ‘normal’ life… knock yourself out. Just keep in mind that I’m not going to marry him whether you’re in the picture or not. It’s wrong and it’s not going to happen. All you’d be doing is making me unhappy by leaving me…again.”

The awed expression on his face made it clear that he had heard nothing past “...the way I love you” and Buffy’s face relaxed into a wry smile as she stepped into the arms that were slowly encircling her body.

“Did you listen to anything I said?” she whispered into his neck as his grip tightened.

“Heard all I needed to, love. It’s in your hands now. I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Go. Stay. It’s going to be a mess, either way.”

“It is,” she sighed, leaning back a little to look up at him. “I don’t want to rub Angel’s face in it, but I’d really like to have you here.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I’d tell him right now, but I don’t want to wake him up to do it. I guess it will keep till morning.”

“It’s gonna be a rough day, no matter what, pet. You need to get some sleep.” The gentle hand he ran down her face was soothing and she leaned into it gratefully.

“Don’t wanna leave you,” she murmured into his palm. “I’m afraid you’ll go away again.”

“Never happen, love. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Then come upstairs. Stay with me tonight.”


 
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