Wend Their Ways Together: Chapter Fifteen

[jesterladyfic]

That night, three members of the Scoobies found themselves in rapt meditation on why they were so bent on a not Spike for Buffy.

***

Willow returned to the dorm room she now shared with Tara. Willow was still a little wary of the blonde witch whom she didn’t know as well as the rest of the Scoobies did. After they had turned in, Willow found herself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She finally stopped trying and just gave herself up to thinking about the situation.

Why not Spike? Sure he was a vampire, but a highly unusual one, always. He was obviously in love with Buffy. But could they trust him not to turn on them? Musing on past encounters with Spike, Willow had to concur that she was scared of him, scared of the things he’d said and done to her. But at the same time, the two most vivid memories had a comforting tang to them as well.

The first was when he had kidnapped her to do the love spell on Drusilla. One of the most frightening times of her life, right up there with the dead goldfish and demon/internet boyfriend. But despite the terrifying threats of having a bottle shoved through her face, Willow could best remember the abject misery of the creature who had held her hostage, the total incapacitating love that had driven him to that low.

The next time Spike had held her prisoner was a totally ludicrous situation. This occasion she had been the love lost miserable one and he had comforted her. And the weirdest part was he comforted her by letting her know how much he wanted to bite her. That had to be the craziest thing in the world, to want to be bitten just so you knew you were desirable. And Spike had done that for her and she knew he was telling the truth, and for no reason at all.

He was obviously having hard times himself right then, but he had put that aside to make her feel better. True, then she had smashed him over the head with a lamp.

But the hardest thing to remember was these past months. It had been interesting in Arashmaharr, but horribly lonely. Those times she was communicating with the portal were the happiest there. And the people who helped her endure the rest of the period were, of course, Oz, always there with a quirky word of encouragement and adoration, but also Spike. He had understood what it was like to be in exile among alien beings and for no reason she could think of, he had joked with her and ribbed her about her clothes and gotten her mind off of it. Why, why did he do these things? Especially when he knew Willow didn’t want him with Buffy.

But why wouldn’t Willow want him with Buffy? Buffy was happy. Willow got the sinking feeling in her stomach that somehow she was the one in the wrong here. All that stuff about vampires being really evil, she had yeah, agreed with it. But that belief didn’t consume her like it did Xander.

Mostly what she was frightened of was that Buffy would become so happy, she wouldn’t need her dorky, little sidekicks anymore. And that scared Willow out of her mind. Since tenth grade, her identity had been Buffy’s best friend. That must be part of the reason why Willow grabbed power and tried to be so impressive as a witch, so that when the time finally came that Buffy didn’t need her anymore, Willow would be able to stand on her own two feet.

Now she knew the path of self-destruction she’d been on and it frightened her. No matter how she felt about herself, she had to let Buffy control her own life. Tomorrow would have to be a day of letting go and moving on and accepting the inevitable.

Accepting the inevitable, a whole new train of thought rolled into the station. Anya. In Willow’s mind, Anya was closely bound up with Spike and all Willow’s issues concerning him. Anya and Spike had a frighteningly lot in common. Both, for lack of a better word, ex-demons, both in love with one of her best friends, both painfully blunt at all times. Maybe Anya had something to do with Willow’s reluctance to Spike, a reminder that her other best friend was gonna be taken by a demon as well.

There was no love lost between her and Anya true, but what did Willow really have against her? Anya was annoying and often embarrassing and oh yeah, had succeeded with Xander where Willow had failed. That was Anya’s big sin; she had won Xander. Willow knew she was so over him and she loved Oz with all her being, but there was this part of her that exclaimed against someone else getting what she’d wanted for so long. Hadn’t she completely lost it when she’d learned of Xander’s tryst with Faith?

It was a harsh reflection to look at; she could see the parallels in Xander’s obsession with Buffy and now she saw them in herself and wept at what she’d let herself become. It had been a hard six months for Willow, coming to grips with her magic and her control issues, now to realize she was a bigot too. She who had crowed over all the Scoobies last Thanksgiving about the Native Americans was intolerant to people who wanted to be with her best friends. Well, that had to stop. Maybe she and Anya wouldn’t ever be friends, but Willow realized the insensible hate she’d held towards Anya was wrong and that maybe, just maybe, Willow owed her an apology. Ok, she did owe Anya an apology, but maybe tomorrow.

‘I’ll pull a Scarlett O’Hara on this one,’ she thought. ‘I’ve been all changed and sorrowful enough tonight.’

It was an exhausting amount of self-revelation that Willow was too tired to think about anymore. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, hoping that Buffy was all right.

***

Xander sat alone in his basement in the bright, orange chair that after sleeping in it, Spike had called,

“A bloody hard mass of macaroni and cheese that shouldn’t be allowed in any civilized country.” Anya had departed for her own apartment, leaving Xander to his swirling emotions in the dark, musty room he hated with all of his being. It was not a happy time for Alexander Lavelle Harris and he did his darndest to figure out why. It all seemed so cut and dry to him on the surface. No heavy thinking necessary. Spike: vampire; Spike: bad; kill Spike deader.

But everything that had happened since Xander had met Buffy and his life had been turned upside down, especially these last few months and tonight, flooded his head and made him wonder. Xander decided, as he was apparently being forced into serious thought by his stupid brain, to start at the beginning, so he could better get started and get it over with.

But it was not a place Xander wanted to go. It brought back painful memories of the first time he’d met vampires, of the grotesque mask marring his best friend’s face and the vicious, feral glint in his eyes. Jesse. It really all came back to him. He and Willow were Xander’s saving grace all his life. His only friends, his only protection against the awfulness that was his parents. And then half of that was gone, ripped from him by a monster he could never hope to face. Then to be the one holding the stake as he watched Jesse crumble into dust. A tear dropped down Xander’s face.

Everyone thought he’d dealt with it incredibly well, so had he, bouncing back with his customary lame jokes and stupid comments. But the wound had been deep and had left him with an inner rage against anything non-human, especially vampires. A desire to hunt and kill and hurt them for taking away his best friend and a refusal to believe they could be anything but evil, because if they could be otherwise, then Xander had killed Jesse for nothing.

But always in the back of Xander’s head there had been the knowledge that there wasn’t much he could do, all puny and human. Sure, he knew how to do it, done plenty of fighting over the years, but he’d always felt the Zeppo, despite his numerous efforts and plans that had saved the day. Yeah, he could be the plan man, could steal rocket launchers, direct troops and talk dead guys with knives named Katie into deactivating bombs, but it was all talk. He could never take out a vamp with a single punch, like he’d seen Buffy do.

So Xander had appointed her as his method of revenge. Buffy was his vicarious tool of destruction. Every vamp she killed was one more that could never hurt another Jesse. Slowly, Xander realized the pressure that must have been on her. Unconsciously, he’d put all his pain, anger and unresolved guilt onto her and because he needed her to do his dirty work for him, he had had to make sure she never did anything that distracted from that mission.

The realization caused Xander to sob and for the first time, he let himself mourn for Jesse and the loss of his friend. But the thought that maybe Jesse was there, and Xander had killed him, his friend and not just a demon, was so overwhelming, Xander fell to his knees and wept. But it was freeing also, Xander knew the truth now, and it allowed him to grieve. Three and a half years after Jesse’s death, Xander gave Jesse up and let him rest.

Getting up from the floor, Xander started to go to bed, but couldn’t help the nagging feeling there was more introspection to be done. Sure, he’d given up the horns, scales, tails and fangs: automatically bad theory. But that still left the question why he couldn’t let Buffy have her way with guys?

If he were honest with himself, Xander admitted, he had an unhealthy fixation with Buffy. He no longer wanted her, he loved Anya truly, but he wasn’t willing to give her up. There’s something compelling about the unattainable. Something inside him that was very male whispered the idea that if he couldn’t have her, no one could. She had to be waiting there alone, for the far off, perhaps day when he would need her and she could be his. Looking at himself in disgust, Xander felt pity for Willow as she must have been in those long ago days when she loved him differently than she did now. How messed up he was. Xander looked around at his miserable surroundings that metaphorically resembled the state of his mind. He had to get out of that basement and out of his obsession with Buffy. His heart lightened, Xander smiled. Only one question remained. Why not Spike?

Xander supposed his ego burned that not once, but twice, a vampire had been chosen over him. Angel was broody, mysterious and had brought angst to them all. But Spike? What had Spike done; besides try to kill them all?

There was the insignificance factor. Spike was ten times faster, stronger, sexier, cooler and smarter than him. But not funnier; Xander would never admit funnier. Spike had also beaten Xander up several times, without effort, once while drunk. That was one more hit to the ego and then Spike was a pain in the ass and he did it on purpose, but he wasn’t a simple guy.

There were many layers to Spike and Xander had to admit, they were fun to explore. Spike did have a lot to offer and Xander could see how perfect Spike and Buffy were for each other. Looking back over the time they’d spent together, Xander couldn’t remember unhappiness. Constant snarkiness and insults were Spike’s way of relating and his protection against the enemies he’d surrounded himself with.

And, Xander realized with amazement, it actually meant he respected you. Xander had learned from watching him that if Spike really didn’t respect you on some level, he just ignored you or killed you. Xander enjoyed the constant sniping between them. It was a challenge, a very male challenge that Xander didn’t get to enjoy with Giles or Oz. Spike wasn’t someone normal, and their friendship-crap, it was a friendship!-was interesting and unusual and Xander realized that he would miss it and he would miss Buffy’s happiness. With a sinking feeling, Xander realized that now, he didn’t have any reason to object to Spike tomorrow. In fact, he actually liked the guy.

‘I feel like I’m betraying something or someone, probably me,’ he thought, getting into bed. ‘But it’s the happiest I’ve been for three and half years.

***

Giles poured himself a drink from the glass canister on his kitchen shelf and collapsed on the couch. Why, oh why were his days filled with dealing with demons and college age students? One at a time he could handle, but both simultaneously. He felt old.

And why were they being forced to deal with such a mundane issue as Buffy’s love life, when a killer like Adam was on the loose? For that matter, why did Giles oppose the match? Wasn’t he the one who believed that Spike had been sent to them for a Higher Purpose? Giles could almost see the capital letters in his mind. Hadn’t they all seen a marked change in the vampire in his time with them? Hadn’t Giles himself changed so dramatically since his stint on the Hellmouth, that he wasn’t so callously bigoted on the morality of demons as he would’ve been once?

All these questions boggled the ex-Watcher’s mind and sent him back to memories he didn’t want to remember. They forced him back to Eyghon and the death of Randall. Back to the time where Giles had watched his friend die and decided that no more would he allow the forces of darkness to dominate, that he would take up his Watcher’s mantle and show them no mercy. It was atonement for his Ripper days, but it was a stand to fight on the side of good and to accept the destiny he had heretofore rejected.

Giles couldn’t find anything wrong with that. Despite feelings otherwise when forced to listen to the hormonal rampages of his young charges, he loved them all and wouldn’t change his being there with them for a second. But Giles realized that being a Watcher had shaped him, had formed his opinions. His training had educated him in such a manner as to brainwash him. With sudden remorse, Giles felt pity for Wesley and the way they had all treated him. Wesley might have been a stuck-up, prissy, kiss-up and way too morally one-sided git, but had Giles been any different when he’d arrived on the Hellmouth?

It was his experiences with Buffy and the others, their open acceptance of him and their adventures together that had changed him. And, he had to admit, Wesley had changed Giles. When faced with a younger version of himself, he had striven to change and grow, but without giving any assistance to the less-experienced Watcher he was driven to dislike of, simply because Wesley had gotten Giles’ old job.

Giles shook his head; somehow this all had something to do with Spike and Buffy. He was sure of it. Well, it had made him more accepting of the other side of the coin. He knew what it was like to fight evil and he believed he could distinguish what was actually evil.

So, why did he resist Buffy’s vampire lovers? The aversion to Angel might have something to do with him murdering the only woman Giles had ever really loved and taking from him the chance to completely reconcile with her. Giles didn’t think he could ever truly forgive Angel and he had been relieved beyond words when Angel had left Sunnydale. Giles felt this not only for himself, but for Buffy’s sake. She was just too young and Chosen for them to be together.

Then Spike had come along and as different from Angel as oil and water. But still a vampire, one who had no desire for redemption, even if choosing to do good now. But even Giles could see how beautifully paired the two were. There were no personal grievances against Spike to hold as a reason for not sanctifying the union. No reason besides taking away Giles’ daughter.

That was the nub of the matter. Buffy was his daughter, no matter who had actually fathered her. Giles started laughing as he realized that something they had all taken to be a very moral matter about if someone was good or evil was simply him not wanting to give up his daughter. Buffy had changed Giles’ life. She was the reason he’d been alienated from the Council and his life in England. Many times he’d longed for adult conversation and not having to order his tea from a different country, but she was worth it all. She made him feel like a whole man, despite the many protestations she made against him having a life. He wanted to give her everything,

“But, there is something Spike can give her that I cannot,” Giles admitted to himself.

He’d told Spike that Buffy was an adult and Giles was going to treat her like one. So, he’d better start tomorrow and not pain her any longer. Besides, he liked Spike. A fellow Englishman was a godsend, someone who understood all Giles’ cultural quirks and in spite of the vampirical, eternal teenage syndrome, Spike was older than all of them and proved to be quite mature if he deigned to let on. With shock, Giles realized that in these past months of living with the man, Spike had become more of a son to Giles than Xander.

Too many life-changing thoughts racing in his head, Giles turned in, ready to change their lives with his decision of acceptance.

***

The three Scoobies each wondered how they would break the news to the other two about their new viewpoints.