Wend Their Ways Together: Chapter Eight

[jesterladyfic]

Often Anya would join Buffy and Tara in their girly-time. Over these months as her grasp of human customs and thought patterns improved, Buffy found her less and less of an irritation and more and more of a valued group member and even, friend. Her extensive knowledge of demons and their cultures made her a vital asset to the Scoobies, who quite often,

“Couldn’t make out their right hand from their left,” as Spike continually reminded them.

It was still difficult for Buffy to be around Anya for long periods of time; but once, after a particularly tense time between the two, when Xander had been caught in the middle and his consequently strained nerves caused everyone else to feel stressed; Spike had taken it upon himself to bridge the gap and bring things to a more desired conclusion. A whispered conversation with Buffy, bringing home certain Spike-perceived truths that always left an impression, brought Buffy to a place where she could see Anya’s point of view. When questioned about his motives, Spike simply smirked and replied,

“I like the truth, pet. Demon-girl has it in spades and once more, always lets it out. That’s the kind of woman who can earn my respect.” All of this was followed up with the kind of embrace that insured no jealous feelings would emerge. “Besides, luv, don’t you think arguing over what color the place settings will be is a little superfluous?”

“It’s your wedding too. You should care.” Buffy was a little put out.

“I care about the wedding. Just not what color it is.” She smiled at that and Spike knew no storm clouds would destroy this afternoon.

Tara had immediately gained favor with Spike, who worked very hard at overcoming her reserve. Like most shy people, naturally gregarious people caused her to retreat within and let them dominate the conversation. Since Spike was overwhelmingly outgoing, at first she hardly said two words to him. It was gradual, but his instant like of her was returned, culminating in his casually nicknaming her Glinda and her delight in having received a nickname, marking her as one of the group.

To say that Spike and Xander had been using this time to form a lasting friendship would be stretching the truth. Most of this was due to Spike’s inability to resist baiting Xander and Xander’s inability to let go of the notion that once the spell was broken, Spike would go back to trying to kill them all. Though neither would admit it, even to themselves, they really did like each other and without meaning to, bonded over several things. One being that they were the only guys around, and some things you just need a guy to understand.

***

One night after a particularly tiring patrol, a trip to the Bronze was proposed and appreciated by all, especially Tara who had never been before. Giles, not unexpectedly, excused himself from the

“Unbearable screeching, blinding lights and nauseating spectacle of hormonally-challenged teenagers rubbing up against each other.” Spike was old enough to agree with him and young enough to enjoy a night out with his girl, even with her friends along, and the horrible American beer.

They found a table for five and Anya quickly dragged Xander out to dance. Spike had his beer and smirked at the two girls too young to have any. The music changed to a beat slow enough that Spike would dance to it and Buffy, in her turn, dragged him to dance as Anya and Xander returned to the table. Things continued the same, sometimes all five dancing, sometimes all five talking.

After awhile Spike started to get bored and there were only two acceptable options open to him. One was to sweep Buffy away somewhere and kiss her senseless. True, this was the option he particularly liked, but somehow didn’t think was appropriate especially considering his resolution of chastity. Keeping that resolution was almost, but not quite, as horrifying to the vampire as the other, which was to ask Xander to play pool with him.

“Pool. Harris. You up for it?” Startled, Xander turned from Anya’s questing lips and blunt questions to answer Spike.

“Ah, sure. Not planning on killing me on the way are you?”

“Only if you ask stupid questions. So yeah, that’s probably on tonight’s menu.”

“Be good, Spike,” Buffy warned him.

“And don’t feel bad when he beats you, honey.” Anya called out after them.

Together they weaved their way to an empty pool table and began to play.

“So, Spike-you know any good doctors?” asked Xander.

“What did you get Demon-girl knocked up already? Or is this a ‘do you know any good doctors who will take out your chip and leave us all vulnerable to the Big Bad and his evil deeds’ question?”

“Ok, the last one.”

“Right then. Listen up, whelp. I’ll only say this once, or probably three thousand more times cause you won’t believe me when I say it now. One, no, I don’t know any doctors to get it out. Two, you better bloody well believe that I want it out. Three, you have my word that I will not attempt to remove it without first talking to the Slayer. Four, you asked a stupid question and I can’t kill you; now I’m upset.” And though Spike’s tone was rather menacing and he did look annoyed, Xander could tell Spike appreciated Xander’s concern for Buffy.

Both men now being satisfied that their required hostility was out of the way, they could settle into their favored occupation: non-required hostility.

“So, Xander, did I notice you limping after that vamp I ended up staking threw you against the mausoleum? You sure you should be out and about?”

“I wasn’t the only one being saved tonight, pal. Didn’t I notice Buffy mutilating a vamp who about broke your back with a torn up tombstone? I would suggest you see a doctor, but then I don’t really care.” Spike almost rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting one bloody thing there, mate. Vamp healing; only a bruise now. Sides, don’t you think a doctor might get a bit curious as to why his patient has no pulse?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. The Evil Undead. I almost didn’t forget I was playing pool with a corpse!”

“Tchah. Step lightly there, Harris. Wouldn’t want to have to tell the Slayer the horrible things you’re saying. Dare say it wouldn’t make her happy to have her man slighted like that.”

“Right, hiding behind your girl. Cause why? Oh yeah, Dead Guy’s not dangerous anymore. Couldn’t even flick me if he wanted.”

“You’re one to talk about hiding behind your bird. Wasn’t that Anya you were using as a shield earlier on patrol? That girl’s got more courage in her pinky than you do in your whole bloody body.”

“Dangerous words, Spike. Too bad you can’t back them up with a little action.”

“Do you know how much you sound like a cheesy movie hero?”

“Well, yeah. It makes me feel manly, lot more manly than you’ll ever be anyway.” The two looked at each other and cracked up laughing just as Spike shoved the eight ball in the corner pocket, winning the game.

“You’re not all bad, Harris. Still, you tell anyone I said that and I will have to hurt you, chip or no chip.”

“Yeah, like I want anybody knowing about this conversation either,” grumbled Xander, feeling let down over the game he’d just lost, regardless of the fact he’d known it would happen before it started.

***

Another thing Spike and Xander bonded over was Xander’s new found love of soccer, or as Spike blatantly told him,

“It’s football, you bloody moron!” It was just further proof that all animosity vanishes when your team is ahead. Perhaps vanishing so much that Spike had even nicely asked Xander to be his best man and Xander had very cordially accepted. Still, there were many fights, but nothing Buffy couldn’t handle by reminding them that they had once held hands.

Giles and Spike had come to a definite understanding, both wary of the other and both giving a grudging respect to the other English man.

***

One night Buffy and Spike came back to Giles’ rather late after patrolling. Buffy gave a quick report to Giles and then had a rather prolonged goodbye with Spike. He closed the door behind her and headed toward his bed, the couch, when he saw Giles had occupied it in his absence.

“Fancy a cuddle before bedtime, Watcher?” he inquired dryly. “Or were you planning on reading me a story to help me sleep?”

“Vastly amusing, I’m sure. Listen, Spike, I know it is late, or midday in your case, but I feel we must have a serious discussion.” Spike sighed heavily before flopping himself down on the couch with a grace that belied his careless movement.

“All right, but if I’m going to have to sit here and listen to you cripe at me all night, then I need some serious stabilizing inducements and the good stuff, Rupert. Not the bloody American crap you keep in the fridge.” Giles stared at him, nonplussed.

“How did you know I kept any?”

“Did it ever occur to you that I could just smell it? I know where it is, I know how much there is, and you’ll notice I kindly refrained from taking any, but here I am almost nicely asking for it.” Giles gave him a look that was not very stuffy or reserved, but nonetheless got two bottles of his private English beer and set one before Spike.

“Now.” Spike settled himself comfortably. “What’s this all about then? I hope it’s not a reiteration of the ‘hurt her, get staked’ speech, I’ve had enough of that one. And it better not be a spiel about how I’m a vampire and can’t really love without a soul, and Peaches is the only one who can and blah blah, bollocks to that. We can love, you know, quite well, if not wisely.”

“Spike, if you would cease your never ending prattle and shut that unholy mouth of yours, I might be able to tell you why I, emphasis on the I, wanted to speak to you.”

“Fire away, mate. I’m all in a bother of anticipation.”

“I did not intend to repeat myself on the matter of staking you nor to lecture you on the behavior habits of vampires, which being one, you know far more about, I have to admit. I don’t even wish to speak to you as a Watcher regarding his Slayer, but as a father regarding his daughter. I realize Buffy is not my child, but the feelings I have for her are as genuine as any I would feel for my own daughter. Buffy is a grown woman now and capable of making her own decisions and I’m very proud of her. The way that she has bounced back from her apathy after Angel’s departure has convinced me to give you a chance, so to speak.

So listen good, Spike. You want her, she wants you, I won’t stand in the way despite the numerous misgivings anyone with sense would have in this situation. I will treat you as I would any man who would fall for Buffy, with pity and contempt. Pity because I believe no man could help it, and contempt that any man would think himself worthy of my girl. She is the strongest and most courageous person I know and I respect her enough to let her stand on her own decisions. But I’m watching you, Spike.

And a word of advice: if you want us to treat you with anything other than disgust, like a man; than act like one. I know you’re acting off your nature and over a hundred year’s worth of habit, but if you’ve managed to overcome as much as you have, than you can do that much more; on survival instincts, if nothing else. And I do believe that was the longest I’ve ever seen you keep your mouth shut.”

“Only cause yours was open the whole time,” Spike replied absently. He was thinking. Everything Giles said made sense and Spike respected him for his words; but underneath it all was a new awareness of just how unique Buffy was to have earned the love, a most special love, of all these people, of this man. Spike knew Buffy had deep sadness over the loss of her father, but,

“Now she truly has a father,” he said the words out loud before he thought. Giles looked surprised, but pleased.

“Thank you, Spike. Now have we come to an understanding?”

“Sure thing, Rupes. For the record, I know I’m not her equal and I am honoring her to the best of my ability. So can I go to bed now, Dad?” The ending came out hurriedly as if Spike was anxious to reestablish his reputation as a snarky sinner and
proud of it.

“One more thing, Spike. How do you intend to support your wife financially? And how, technically, will you be able to do that, being dead? I’d just like to know your thoughts.” Spike looked startled as if such a thing had never occurred to him before.

“Well, I don’t know. I have papers; so I look legit. Update them every time it’s necessary. I guess that means I could get a job. Ugh, being a white hat is horrible.” Giles smiled grimly,

“Yes, I feel your pain most acutely. Just be thinking about money and job options.”

“Great, bloody, buggering hell. Just what I needed.” A light began to dawn in Spike’s eyes, “Wait a sec, I think I know what to do. And it’s not illegal, so stop looking at me like that.”

“What is it, if it’s something we all would approve of?” Giles was clearly skeptical.

“Not now, I’ve got to suss this out in my mind. Just be assured I’m taking care of it, yeah?”

“Very well, for now.”

“So, we done now?”

“I believe we are done here.” Giles rolled his eyes as Spike blew him a kiss and downed the rest of Giles’ beer. Giles climbed the stairs to his loft and got into bed, smiling as the sounds of purring, emanating from Spike, rose through the flat.

‘Nice to know I have a great purring vampire sleeping on my couch. Oh, the look on his face if I told him! Stupid prat would never get over it,’ were Giles’ last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.

***

To tell the truth, Giles (apart from the reassuring purring), was quite relieved to have someone around who understood his ways, even if mocked about them at every turn. But most of the reason why Giles came to regard Spike as anything other than a necessary evil was that Giles believed in a Higher Purpose for the vampire. The idea had come into Giles’ head the first time he’d accompanied Buffy and Spike on patrol. The pair were magnificent, truly awesome to watch in their grace, power and synchronicity. It was almost as if they anticipated each other’s moves. To be fair, most of the precognition seemed to come from Spike, which seemed in keeping with his track record of hunting down Slayers, learning their styles and then killing them. He must’ve watched her a long time and suddenly Giles knew why Buffy hadn’t been able to kill Spike before. He knew her too well.

Giles found himself wondering if Spike really did know her so well, why wasn’t she dead? Unless he hadn’t really wanted to kill her? That was when the thought that this engagement might not be entirely due to magic came up, but it was also when he decided that the chip had been sent to Spike in order to set him down a road he never would’ve considered otherwise. From that point on, Giles did his best to set his memories aside and focus on Spike’s behavior from now, which apart from the constant inappropriate and rude remarks, was faultless.

Which was simply because, whether he liked it or not, Spike was rapidly becoming fond of all of them, including Willow, whom he only got to see occasionally, via the portal.
Willow called about once a week, always cheerful and contrite, but interested in her surroundings despite her longing to come home. She was rather reluctant to miss the wedding, especially considering the circumstances. But then again, it seemed greedy to put her needs ahead of Buffy’s, when it was Willow’s selfishness that had brought them both into this fix. To Willow’s mind, it was twisted logic, but logic she felt compelled to obey at Buffy’s request.

By chance, it would seem, Willow was having a quiet chat with Buffy and Tara, when one of the huge things that this space of time brought about happened, which was the return of Oz.