CHAPTER 13

“I miss you too.”

Buffy looked curiously around the Magic Box. Xander and Willow had dropped her there on their way to see a movie, so she knew Anya couldn’t be speaking to Xander, despite her hopes that her two friends might reconcile.

“I’ll try to get over this weekend, if Spike can work Saturday. That way, we’ll only have been apart for a few days, and if you’re coming back on Friday there’ll only be another four days to miss you…”

It was wrong to listen in on others’ conversations. Wrong with a capital W, even. Buffy knew it, but right then she couldn’t have moved if a six-foot cockroach had burst through the wall. Surely, that wasn’t – it couldn’t be –

“Giles! I’ll hold you to that promise,” Anya giggled. “I’ll make us a reservation at the Holiday Inn. Their suites have Jacuzzis and champagne, and they also have an international Frequent Guest program. So we can earn reward points while we –”

Discretion, Slayer strength and ultra-fast reactions forgotten, Buffy let her bag slip from her fingers. It hit the floor with a dull thud.

Anya looked up from the phone, shocked to see Buffy standing there. She blushed (Buffy hoped it was at the sight of her, rather than at whatever Giles was saying), bit her lip and responded with a muted “You too – looking forward to the weekend” before hanging up the phone and looking defiantly, if a little guiltily, at Buffy.

 “You and … Giles.”

Buffy looked at Anya in what might charitably have been called shock. Anya, being more pragmatic than charitable, would have probably have described it as complete and utter disbelief, coupled with a substantial dose of horror.

“We’re seeing each other,” the vengeance demon confirmed.

“When you say ‘seeing each other’, you don’t just mean with your eyes, do you?” Buffy asked.

“Not just with our eyes,” Anya clarified. “With our hands and lips as well. Giles knows this game with a blindfold, where –“

Buffy clapped her hands to her ears. “Don’t tell me!”

Anya frowned, looking a little hurt. “I told Giles you wouldn’t take it well.”

“No, no,” Buffy hurried to reassure her, despite being unsure how she really felt about it all. “It’s not that. I’m happy for you both. It’s just that Giles is kind of like a father to me, and parents just don’t have sex. Especially with my friends. It’s beyond the ick factor and into gaaaaaaaaah territory.”

Anya smiled with relief. “I understand now. Although, I have to assure you that it’s not unpleasant at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

She smirked, and Buffy felt a pang of envy. Not that she felt that way about Giles, of course (again with the gaaaaaaah, although she remembered that Spike had once mockingly leapt to that conclusion), but for the look of satisfaction and contentment on Anya’s face. She’d felt like that once, for a few minutes, lying under a rug on the stone floor of a dead man’s crypt. Physically sated, relaxed and replete. The only time she felt like that these days was after a good fight, when she would return home and curl up in bed, her only companion a leather duster that had seen better days.

“That’s great, Anya,” she forced herself to say. “That you’re happy, I mean. And Giles too.” She paused, considering her words, surprised that she really did wish the unlikely couple well. She bit her lip, considering her next question, then asked it anyway. “Does Xander know?”

“Not yet,” said Anya. “Giles wants us to tell everyone together. He’ll be back shortly, but I’m strangely glad you improperly eavesdropped on our private conversation today.” She fiddled with a pile of bills before looking up. “I hate keeping secrets,” she confided.

“How – how long has this been going on?” asked Buffy, not sure she wanted to know the answer. She stooped to pick up her bag – and to hide the confusion on her face.

“One week, one day and eighteen hours,” Anya replied promptly. “Although the attraction has been building for some time. Spike and Nancy both noticed it.”

“But – you’re a vengeance demon again,” Buffy said slowly, pushing the mention of the mysterious Nancy aside for a moment.

“So?” said Anya, “There’s nothing in the rule book that says we’re not allowed to experience physical pleasure with mortals.”

“… and Giles is a Watcher,” Buffy continued from beneath a mental pile of Supermodel-esque Nancies with long golden hair and pneumatic breasts. “He’s not supposed to –”

“This isn’t about me and Giles at all, is it?” Anya realised suddenly. “It’s about you and Spike. The two of you may not have been able to solve that moral quandrary, but Giles and I will find a way.” She paused, then added more simply, “I love him, Buffy. When he’s not here, it’s like all the shrimp are gone from the world. With Xander, I always had to change, to be someone I wasn’t. But Giles loves me, and he respects me too.” She grinned. “Plus, he’s handsome, strong, and he has that sexy British accent.”

The description didn’t only match Giles. “I have to go,” said Buffy and hurried out of the shop, wiping away the tears that clouded her sight. Was Anya right? Had she really thrown away the joys of shrimp through blind prejudice and fear? And if she had, might there still be a chance to reclaim them?

***

”Hey, Dawny. Is Buffy home?”

“She had to go out,” Dawn replied.

Willow’s face fell. “Oh. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“She didn’t say,” was the terse reply. “I’ll tell her you came by.”

Willow turned to leave as Dawn started to close the front door, but turned back before it latched. “Dawny, can we talk?”

The younger woman shrugged. “I guess.” Reluctantly, she opened the door and led Willow into the living room, where she perched on the edge of a chair, looking for all the world like a frightened fawn ready to bolt at any moment.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk since I got back.”

Dawn shrugged again. “I’ve been busy with school. You guys are always telling me how important my education is.”

Willow tilted her head in acknowledgement. “So you haven’t been all avoidy with me?”

Dawn looked away. It was an answer in itself, and Willow’s face reflected her hurt at this rejection.

“Dawny, I’m sorry. Those things I said and did – I wasn’t myself. The magic –”

Dawn stood abruptly. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Willow. That was you doing that stuff. All of it. You weren’t possessed by anything. It was you who said those things. You may wish you could take them back, but you can’t. It’s not that easy.”

She turned and walked to the stairs. “You can let yourself out.”

***

“Slayer’s late tonight,” Spike thought, as he heard the Magic Box door close quietly. To his surprise, the footsteps didn’t cross to the training room as usual, but came down the steps into the basement. Guess she wants some more training tips, he figured, waiting for his door to open. Instead, she knocked, almost hesitantly. He looked up, confused.

“Come in,” he called, and she entered, looking around curiously.

“Nice place,” she offered.

He nodded, gesturing to the sofa opposite the one where he sat. “Bit posher than the crypt.” She smiled in agreement.

The moment stretched into an awkward silence.

“D’you fancy a drink? I’ve got tea, coffee, coke – even that mineral water you like.”

”That’d be nice. Thanks,” she replied, studying her fingernails.

He put her glass on a coaster on the coffee table, then sat back on the sofa.

“So what can I -”

“Have you found out -” They spoke at once, neither comfortable with the silence.

“Ladies first,” he said.

He’d said that to her before, of course, and she blushed. Was she, like Spike, remembering the last time they had made love, on a temporary bed made up on the coffin of some long-dead man or woman who would never again know the heat that two bodies could generate, even when one was, strictly speaking, dead? He’d insisted that ladies went first then – technically twice, if he remembered correctly, although her second had also been a third and fourth rolled in together.

“I just wondered whether you had any more information on our demon situation,” she said. “I saw that some books arrived yesterday.”

The books! He’d been so caught up with his letter, he’d not even opened the parcels. “To tell the truth, Buffy, I’ve not got to them yet.”

She sat very still. “That’s right. Anya said you had a letter from –um- Nellie?”

She’d never been a good liar. There was the way her eyes darted to one side and her nostrils flared slightly, giving her a slightly panicked look.

“That’s Nancy,” he corrected, wondering where this was going. Anya had told him about their conversation, and he felt a flash of hope.

“Is she someone you met in England?” Buffy asked. Spike nodded.

“She must be pretty special if you took Giles and Anya to meet her.”

Spike smiled. “She is.”

Buffy stared vacantly into her glass.

Taking pity on her, he explained, “She’s my great-niece. I looked her up to make sure she was all right, and we hit it off. She even took me to meet the rest of the family.”

Relief washed over Buffy’s face. “What did you tell her? That you were some long-lost relative?”

He grinned. “At first, I did. Turned out, though that she had already guessed who I was. She’s a canny old bird; she knew all about me. I told her I’d put her over my knee if she ever did anything as stupid as inviting a vampire into her house again.”

Buffy’s face froze. “But the chip—”

Typical Bloody Slayer.

Couldn’t take her mind off the Evil Vampire for a second. Not even to realise they were almost having a friendly conversation, for once. Love-sick fool, that’s what he was.

“It’s a figure of speech,” he bit out. “We both knew I’d never do it. She needed to know how serious it was.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered. “I just had to -”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Buffy,” he snapped. “Do you think Anya’d have me here if she thought I’d eat her customers? Or Giles, if I posed any sort of danger to you and your Scooby mates? Christ, is a little respect such a huge thing to ask?”

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “You can’t make a habit of this. You sought me out once before when you were miserable, but I can’t go through that again. I love you, Buffy. I can’t do anything about that, and I don’t know that I’d want to. I said once that I knew you’d never love me. It wasn’t true then, but it’s true now. What I did – what I tried to do to you – you were right. I was a monster; I was everything you said. Doing that made me realise what I had to do to be worthy of you – and once I’d done that, I realised I never could be.” He paused, waiting several beats before continuing. “Anyway, that’s not what I was trying to say. Either stay, and let me be your friend, or stop coming to me.”

Buffy stared at him, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Spike. I really am. I shouldn’t have – I didn’t –” She stood, twisting her hands nervously. “I’ll go.”

He shrugged. Rude, he knew. “If you like. You can let yourself out.”

She left, holding herself carefully erect. Spike frowned as he listened to her footsteps recede. Perhaps he had been wrong to force the issue so soon, but it was as much in self-defence as anything else. He didn’t know if he could take any more of the Slayer’s kind of friendship.

***

Giles was just heading for the shower when the telephone rang.

“Infernal machine,” he muttered as he hurried to answer it. “If I wanted to talk to people at this hour, I’d be working in a blasted cafeteria.”

“Hello?” he snapped.

“Giles? Did I get my timezones muddled and it’s really five a.m., or are you always this grouchy in the morning?”

“Buffy! Is anything wrong?” Is Anya all right?

“Not wrong exactly. I just needed to talk to you.”

“At eight in the morning,” he sighed, pulling a chair over to the breakfast table. “Is it Willow? Has Spike found anything more out about the demons?”

“No – well, I don’t know. I’ll sort Spike out for myself.” She laughed wryly. “I can do that now. And Willow’s fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Giles replied. “So what do you need to discuss?”

“Anya told me about the two of you.”

There was silence on the British end of the line, then “Oh. We were going to wait.”

“I know. It’s okay, Giles. She wanted to talk to someone. Keeping secrets like that – it can destroy you.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked in concern. “We both felt we should wait until I was back in Sunnydale before we said anything.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just – I guess she figured I’d understand. You know, with the whole secret relationship thing.” There was a pause. “I do understand. Well, kind of. But Anya?”

Giles sighed. His proposal for a seminar series on “Understanding Adolescent Psychology” to the Watchers’ Council as a mandatory qualification for any future Watchers was not much help to him when he needed it. Not that Buffy was an adolescent anymore, but he scarcely felt equipped to deal with her moral dilemmas.

“Buffy, my private life is just that. I’ve never interfered in your relationships, and I’d hate to think you were going to do that to mine.”

Buffy gasped. “You’re the second person today to tell me to butt out. I’m just trying to understand. You’re a Watcher, and she’s a Vengeance Demon. Isn’t that, like, illegal or something? For both of you?”

So it was about Spike. He couldn’t say he was surprised, or even (and this did surprise him) displeased. The vampire had proven himself a good friend – and a staunch ally as well. Giles chose his words carefully.

“A relationship isn’t a contract to always agree, Buffy – or even necessarily to be on the same side, although that does help. It’s about being better people together than you are when you’re apart, and caring enough to work through your differences, loving one another despite them.”

There was silence.

“And that’s how you feel about Anya.”

It wasn’t a question, but he confirmed the answer anyway. “It is. She makes me feel – vital. That I could do anything I chose. She’s a wonderful woman, Buffy.”

“Thanks,” said Buffy in a small voice. “You’ve helped me sort some stuff out for myself, Giles. And I am happy for you and Anya.”

This time, he almost believed her.

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied. “Do you think you could possibly time these crises for later in the day in future?”

***

Willow stared at the dried herb she’d found tucked inside an old journal.

Lethe’s Bramble.

This time, she’d be careful. If she could only get her powers back, it would be different.

Dawn was wrong. Some things could be undone, if only you had the magic to do it.