Fiction by Lorraine

icon by sukibluefiction

Spike ducked to avoid Xander’s punch. “Good. That woulda hit me if I was human.” Spike flopped down on one of the benches in Buffy’s training room. Spike had taken to sparring with Xander whenever the Slayer was on patrol. Their training sessions had grown more intense, and useful, now that the vampire didn’t scream in agony if he accidentally pushed Xander too far. Xander hoped he wasn’t embarrassing himself mightily. Spike could easily evade his attacks, and even though the vampire pulled his punches from force of habit, he always found his mark.

Suddenly, Spike grinned. Xander was instantly wary. He had discovered over the past months that a blinding grin from Spike usually signaled some sort of mischief. “You need a good motivation, Harris. You’re not getting any better at sidestepping cuz you think I won’t really hit you. Now, I can. Not hard, but it’ll hurt enough to get your attention. Nothing like a little pain to get the old reflexes going.” Great, Xander thought. Now he really was going to embarrass himself mightily. Fine, if I’m gonna be mortified, I’ll at least make it a joke and mess up Spike’s hair to boot.

Spike stood, slowly circling Xander on the mat. Suddenly, Xander took a deep breath and threw himself at the vampire with what he hoped Billy Idol would agree qualifies as a Rebel yell. “What the hell, Harris!” Spike shouted as Xander attempted to subdue him with a truly terrifying attack combo of hair pulling and pinching. When Xander swept the vampire’s feet out from under him, he was certain Spike fell only because he was laughing so hard. Xander quickly rolled on top of Spike, straddled his slim pelvis, and pinned his wrists to the mat.

“I won! Victory is mine! The Big Bad cowers before me!”

Spike continued laughing. “The apocalypse has come. Xander Harris channeling bloody Harmony.”

“I won, didn’t I?” Xander pushed Spike’s arms into the mat a little more forcefully to emphasize his point.

“Yeah, mate. You won. Your sorority girl tactics were just too much for me.” Spike rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop from laughing again.

Xander realized he was milking this moment just a little too long, but he didn’t want to give up his hold on Spike. He liked the way the other man’s hard body felt under him, liked the way Spike’s eyes turned a deeper shade of blue when he laughed. He could feel the button of Spike’s jeans pressing into his hip and a thin strip of bare flesh against his own where both their shirts had ridden up. Xander almost reached down to trail his fingers across Spike’s stomach before he caught himself. Oh, God, what am I doing? I’m about to feel up my undead new best friend. Who is a guy. Who will break my hands because he is so not interested in me. Xander let go of Spike’s wrists and rolled off the vampire.

Spike looked at him and raised his eyebrow as if he knew exactly what Xander was thinking. “Something the matter, mate?”

Xander started babbling to cover his confusion. “Okay, Spike, training’s over. Ever since you got that chip outta your head, you just can’t wait for another round of make me your pommel horse. Well, we’re ending on a high note tonight. Let’s go to the Bronze. I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate your defeat at my superior ninja moves. Oooh, maybe some big, scary demon will hit on me and you can chop it up six ways to Sunday.” Xander noticed that Spike was no longer listening to him, but staring over his shoulder with a horrified look on his face. Xander leaned forward and whispered to Spike, “I don’t even have to look. Buffy’s back there, and she heard everything, right?” Spike nodded, never taking his eyes off the Slayer. “Do you think the same moves would bring her down?” Xander had lived with Spike long enough to tell that the vampire was holding in a hysterical laugh.

Xander looked behind him. Buffy had turned a shade of white Xander usually thought of as Vampiric Chic. He had never seen his friend look so cold. When she spoke, her tone was even, measured. “How long has it been out, Spike?”

“Couple a weeks or so.” Spike looked as if he was lounging easily on the floor, but their legs were touching, and Xander could feel the muscles in Spike’s thigh tensed for flight.

“And you knew about this?” When Xander nodded, Buffy drew a shuddering breath and continued. “How’d you do it?” Spike kept his mouth shut, the muscle in his jaw working overtime. He’d told Xander before, that if it came to this, he would not, in his words, “rat out Red.”

“I did it.” Willow’s voice preceded her as she walked down the stairs, followed closely by Giles.

“We did it,” Giles amended.

Spike and Xander had imagined over the last few weeks the many ways in which this conversation could go down, but they never envisioned the version where Buffy cried. And really cried. The kind of sobs that left her gasping for air and struggling to find her voice. Xander rose to his feet and attempted to put his arm around Buffy. She backed away from him.

“Don’t you fucking touch me! Any of you. I cannot believe you would betray me like this. He is the enemy. He is a demon. He is a thing. We use him when we need him. We do not play house with him or go to the movies with him. Or willingly remove the only thing that’s kept us from being his lunch. When we forget what Spike is, when we let our guard down, that’s when he strikes.” Buffy’s voice had risen with each statement. Now, she was practically shouting.

“Wait a minute, Buffy,” Xander protested hotly. “Spike is not a thing. He’s not just a weapon you can pull out when it suits you and then shut back up in the chest when it doesn’t. He hasn’t been anyone’s enemy but yours for a long time now.”

“How can you defend him? His friendship is beneath you.”

Giles began to speak, but Xander cut him off. He stepped between Buffy and Spike. “Don’t you ever say that. Spike is not beneath me—or any of us. He has a soul, one that he fought for, and he’s my friend. I will not let you hurt him.” Xander hoped he could still seem threatening after the mock catfight Buffy had just witnessed.

“You won’t let me hurt him. Spike fucking tried to rape me, and you’re all worried about his well-being?” The room froze. The only sounds were Buffy’s strangled sobs. Xander instinctively took a step towards Spike, as if to shield him from the Slayer. Buffy said, “Oh, don’t worry Xander. I won’t touch Spike. Willow’s been chanting under her breath ever since this little fight started. I probably couldn’t stake him if I tried.” Then she ran out the side door and into the street.

Xander had come to terms with Spike’s past, all of it, before this night. He knew that Spike would never hurt any of them again and that he was genuinely remorseful for what he’d done. But he also hadn’t been on the receiving end of an attempted sexual assault from the vampire. Xander could understand why Buffy felt the way she did. He thought that if Buffy had just given Spike a chance to apologize when he first returned to Sunnydale or actually spent some time with him, seeing the difference in him, she might feel a little differently. Or maybe she would never be able to forgive Spike.

Nobody spoke. Xander risked a glance at Spike’s face. He’d seen that look exactly once, the night he’d found Spike in the alley. He was wearing the same tortured expression of self-loathing, those same haunted eyes that signaled the slow slip of mind Xander had worked so hard to erase. Xander understood that his loyalties should be clear. He knew his heart should ache only for Buffy. But he wanted to run to Spike. Not Buffy. Spike. How did this get so complicated? Two years ago, Spike’s ashes would’ve made him a nice souvenir. Now he wanted nothing more than to wipe away the single tear on Spike’s jaw with the pad of his thumb. He wanted to pull Spike close and hold him until he stopped trembling. He wanted to make him laugh, keep him safe, heal his hurt. Xander realized, with sudden clarity, watching Spike fold in on himself, that his urge to comfort the vampire came from more than friendship, or a crush, or simple lust. He was falling in love. Xander sighed; this is a huge mess.

“She’s right, ya know,” Spike whispered. “I don’t deserve your trust.”

Willow put her arm around the vampire. “Spike, what happened was wrong. The demon that did that doesn’t deserve our trust. But you do. You’ve changed.”

“Willow, that demon is still inside me. I can feel it crawling around underneath my skin. Buffy’s right. What if I hurt someone again?” He looked at Xander. “I’ll just go.” He turned to leave.

Xander put his hand on Spike’s chest. “You most certainly will not, buddy. There’s no telling what Buffy would do to you right now if she found you. And I don’t think you’d put up too much of a fight. Don’t make me channel Harmony again.” Spike didn’t smile this time, but he made no further move toward the door.

Giles cleared his throat. “It seems that the, ah, incident with Spike has been preying on Buffy’s mind for some time now. I wish I had known what was troubling her. Perhaps I could have helped her.” The Watcher looked sad. Xander knew Giles thought of Buffy as his daughter. “Spike, come upstairs with me and have a drink. You and Buffy will have to talk about what happened, sooner rather than later, if any healing is to occur between you. However, you should know that if Buffy cannot make her peace with you, we will respect her wishes. We will not allow her to harm you, but her needs must come first with us. Now, I want Willow to cast a protection spell on you that will last longer than the one she cast earlier.” The Watcher began herding Spike and Willow up the stairs, and Xander took the opportunity to slip out after Buffy. He had to try to make this right. Spike had to stay in Sunnydale. Xander couldn’t bear the thought of coming home every day to an empty apartment.

He found her sooner than expected, sitting with her back against the wall, just outside the Magic Box door. She’d been able to hear everything they were saying. Xander slid down the wall beside her and sat wordlessly, crossing his arms over his knees.

Buffy spoke before he did. “I know he’s changed, Xander. I see it in him. I know if I let him talk to me, he’d say the right things, and I would see how sorry he is. But I just can’t. I can’t. I thought he’d changed before, even though he didn’t have a soul. Through that whole ordeal with Glory, he was kind; he was caring. He said he’d protect Dawn with his life, and I believed him. He said he loved me, and I believed him. When I came back from the grave, Spike was the only person I could be honest with. I needed him, then.” Buffy put her head down on her knees. “When he tried to rape me, I snapped. All the good he’d done before just seemed like a con leading up to that very moment when he showed his true colors. I know why he did it. He felt pushed, desperate. The things I said to him, the things I did to him, even when I was letting him. . . . Spike just wanted me to love him back, and in his twisted demon logic, forcing me to have sex with him was apparently the way to accomplish that goal. He was horrified about what he’d done even then. That’s why he left town.”

“And now, you can’t trust that Spike’s really changed because you’re afraid of being hurt again, of feeling betrayed?” Xander reached out his hand to Buffy, and she took it in her own. “I’m so sorry, Buffy. I don’t know what was wrong with all of us. I didn’t forget that Spike tried to hurt you, but it just didn’t seem worse than when he tried to kill you.” Xander paused. “I live with him. Everyday I see how different he is, how sorry he is for everything. I guess it was easy for me to lump all his sins into one category and forgive them. I think that’s what happened with the others, too. Giles and Willow have been spending a lot of time with Spike. I’m sorry we didn’t realize how much we were hurting you.”

“I know you weren’t trying to hurt me, Xander. It’s okay.”

Xander continued, “Spike is my friend, and I care about him, but I would never let him hurt you, or anyone else. I mean that. You are my best friend. We have been through hell together more times than I care to count. I would never suggest you accept Spike if I thought he was dangerous. I don’t think Spike is conning us; I really don’t. He dreams about that night in your bathroom. I hear him, early in the morning, crying. Loving you, hating himself—you’re the reason he got that soul in the first place.” Xander squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him. “Buffy, I understand if you can’t ever be best pals with Spike, but please don’t stake him.”

Buffy sighed. “I’m not going to kill him, Xander. This is just really hard for me. I don’t know how to be around him.” She paused. “I think I just need to go home and go to sleep. We’ll deal with all this tomorrow.” Buffy stood up and walked alone down the alley.

Part Five