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80 Understandings
 
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A/N: I won Runner Up Best WIP at round 4 of the Running with Scissors Awards! Thank you!

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Chapter 80 - Understandings

They met Willow at the Magic Box after dark, where Buffy was to take over watching Oz for the evening. Once again, Buffy ended up sparring with Spike for most of the night, using the various weapons that Giles had in the training room. After midnight, they took a long break, sitting down at the large table in the front room of the store. It was mostly dark except for some of the display lights and the light from the back room, but it was bright enough to see in.

Buffy ate the food she’d brought, not saying much as she looked around the shadowy store. It was true that she didn’t come here as much as she used to. But she had been by a few times, and was starting to be civil to Giles again. She wasn’t angry with him anymore, but she just couldn’t slip right back in to the easy relationship they’d had before. And it’s not like she really needed his help with training.

Buffy glanced across the table at Spike, who was slouched back in his chair and not doing much of anything. She took another sip from her water bottle before she broke the silence.

“We should talk.”

“All right.” He shifted forward, putting his hands on the table.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” he prompted.

“Things you said the other night.” She paused. “Do you think what I do—killing vampires—is wrong? You don’t really care about other vampires, do you?”

“No.”

“But they probably do want to be here as much as anyone else does. You’re right about that. But I slay them because I have to. Because they’re killing people. Because I have to protect people.”

“I know, pet.”

“But do you think about vampires and humans differently? Well, obviously you do. But I mean—blood aside. Like if some vampire on the street had pissed you off and some human on the street had pissed you off, would you have let the vampire go because he’s a vampire?”

“Probably not.”

Buffy considered.

Spike tilted his head, studying her.

“It’s not so much what you are,” he continued. “But who you are. To me.”

“But it’s still killing to you?” She paused. “Like, you killed Darla.”

“I did.”

“I dust vampires every night, but you killed Darla.”

Spike frowned. “Not sure I’m followin’ you.”

“You knew her. She wasn’t some random vamp on the street.”

“No.” He was still frowning.

“But you say ‘killed’ even when you talk about random vamps, don’t you? I say ‘dust.’”

“Killing is killing.” From the look on his face, he seemed to be catching on to her train of thought.

“It’s killing even if vampires are already dead. But vampires aren’t really dead, are you?” she asked. “You walk, you talk, even if you’re not alive like we are. Undead, maybe. Dusting is still ending something. But I have to do it.”

“I know.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You know that, don’t you? Don’t let anything I said get to you, Buffy, or make you mess up. I was just—”

“I know. I do. I just realized that I’m drawing a line somewhere in my head. Even I say that you ‘killed’ Darla. I say that we’re going to ‘kill’ Angelus. It’s not any different, but I think of them as different.” Buffy met his gaze. “And you, you would never be ‘dusted.’ You would always be ‘killed.’ I think…it’s easier to think of the vampires every night as, I don’t know, some piece of the whole. There’s nothing about them except the fact that I’m going to dust—kill them.”

“Call it whatever you want if it helps you do it.” Spike looked slightly bothered.

“Don’t worry, I’m not having some existential crisis. I won’t have a problem doing what I have to do. But it’s not as clear-cut as it seemed at first. I guess I’m just seeing a different perspective. I’m sure the vampires see it as killing.”

“Just so long as you don’t start thinkin’ about vamps differently. Yeah, they might want to live as much as you do, but they’d kill you as soon as look at you. And I don’t think anything about killin’ vampires.” Spike paused. “Though a lot of vamps don’t have much goin’ on besides wantin’ to feed,” he admitted. “You’re not far off about the ones you dust every night. Angelus and Darla are different from them.”

“Because they’re older? Smarter?”

“More or less. Though I’ve run into some ancient idiots, let me tell you.” Then he looked her in the eye. “Nothing you do to stay alive is wrong.”

“Yeah…” Buffy glanced down uncomfortably. “You would do whatever I wanted.” It wasn’t a question.

“I would.” Then, as if reading her thoughts, he added: “But I’d still kill someone before I see you dead or worse.”

“Right.” Buffy twisted her hands around.

Spike had killed for her once. He would kill for her again, whether she wanted it or not. Or if she wanted it. His serious and chilling offer echoed in her mind. Let me know when you do want someone killed.

She didn’t know what to think about that. But that wasn’t so much of a problem because no matter what Spike would do, it was dependent on something that she would never do.

But he would still kill someone if they threatened her.

“What if it didn’t need to come to that?” she asked, looking up.

He snorted. “I thought you Americans were all about guns and self-defense and all that rot. What’s the problem?”

“Pre-emptive self-defense isn’t really…” Buffy sighed. “Kill or be killed is…fine, and maybe some other…situations, but you can’t just jump right to killing. It’s not a solution.”

“Death tends to be a permanent solution, most of the time.”

“But it shouldn’t be the first solution. I just need to—know that you won’t do anything unless there’s no other way.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Buffy had the suspicion that getting a vampire to agree not to use lethal force unless things were bad was as good as she was going to get. She would just have to make sure that things never got that bad. And if they did, well, maybe she’d rather be alive.

“Well, love, what else?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got that look on your face. Let’s get it all out.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. “You once said that killing wasn’t wrong to you.”

“I did.”

“But you know the difference between right and wrong?”

“Everything’s wrong, depending—”

“Depending on who you ask,” she finished. “I know. But…really not wrong to you at all?”

“It’s how I’m supposed to eat.” He raised a brow. “How can I think it’s wrong?”

Buffy bit her lip. “Okay. But when I talk about right and wrong, you do know what I’m talking about? You do get the human definition of right and wrong?”

“Yeah, I get it. Most of the time, I just don’t care.”

“But you wouldn’t—do anything wrong? Even if it’s not killing?”

“I’ll do whatever you tell me I can do and still keep you,” he said evenly.

Buffy looked down at the table. She just couldn’t say it was okay to bite criminals. Not now. Maybe not ever. But she could tell he was waiting for something.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

There was a long silence.

He finally sighed. “All right, pet.”

“Is it really too hard? Can you not do it?”

“I can do it.”

She glanced away. “Okay.”

There was another silence.

“So is that it?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Spike pushed his chair back and stood.

“Right, then. You up for another round?”

Buffy nodded, following him to the back.

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Just before dawn, they went back into the main part of the store so Oz could change. Willow came in the front door at almost the same time.

“Hey,” she said. “Any problems?”

“Nope.”

“I’ve got breakfast.”

“Thanks, but I ate not that long ago,” Buffy said. “I brought dinner and breakfast.”

“Okay. Well, the sun’s up. I’m gonna go unlock him.”

A minute later, Willow was back, Oz following her. Buffy introduced Spike. She thought Oz had seen Spike with her at the Bronze before, but she wasn’t sure. It was a short exchange, after which she gathered up her things.

Willow watched as Buffy and Spike left through the back door. She quickly went and locked it behind them so that nothing else could come in from the alley streets.

She turned to Oz. “So, do you wanna eat here or at the dorms?”

Oz was staring at the door. “That guy. He’s a vampire.”

“What, how—I mean, no, he’s not.”

“You knew.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement.

“Yeah. For a little while.”

Oz frowned. “Do you trust him?”

“I trust Buffy. So I guess I do. How did—I didn’t think you could smell vampires.”

“I can’t, usually. But everything is sharp right now. And it’s familiar somehow. Like I smelled it before but didn’t recognize what it was.”

“I guess he could have been here last time Buffy watched you. Only you didn’t see him afterward,” Willow said. “So, uh, are you mad? Buffy asked me not to tell anyone, and—”

“I’m not mad because you kept a secret. Buffy’s your friend. If she asks you not to tell something, then you shouldn’t feel bad for not betraying her confidence. Even to me.”

“But?”

“I’m just kinda concerned this could be a dangerous secret,” Oz said.

“Spike’s completely in love with her. He’s, well, it’s really a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Willow nodded. “Since you know, I guess you should know everything.”
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When Buffy came back after class the next day, Spike was asleep. He often slept when she was gone during the day. He always went to bed with her at night, though she was never sure how much he actually slept. It had to be hard for vampires to sleep at night. She never noticed if he got up after she was asleep; he was always there when she woke up.

Now, however, he was sleeping, sprawled naked on the bed. The sheet had slipped from around his waist, and Buffy paused to look at him.

Spike never moved when he was asleep. His body seemed truly dead to the world, not shifting, not breathing. He could have his arm around her at night, but it would never budge once he was actually asleep. That said, Spike was an incredibly light sleeper. The noise of a door closing, her saying his name, even her twisting in her sleep would wake him up. It was probably some sort of predator always-ready awareness thing.

Spike also had a tendency to sleep naked. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was slowly wearing off on her, as no matter what she went to bed in, it usually ended up on the floor before she was actually asleep.

However, he didn’t tend to nap naked, even if he was doing so right now. That was probably the reason she was still standing in the doorway watching him, Buffy thought with a smile.

Though he wasn’t completely naked, technically. There was the ever-present ankle bracelet, with its green stone and dirty gold. There was also a silver chain around his neck and a similar bracelet. Buffy had found the silver jewelry in his sock drawer one day, and asked why he didn’t wear anything but the rings. Since then, he’d been wearing things.

It had been sort of funny, in a mundane way, that Spike had a sock drawer. Well, he had socks; of course he had a sock drawer. What he didn’t have, she’d discovered, was an underwear drawer.

Buffy looked back at him, noticing the way the silver caught the light in the room. Actually, Spike couldn’t have looked sexier if he were totally naked.

A really wicked idea came to her, and she quietly crossed the room. Buffy paused in front of the closet, hesitating. Maybe she should just let him sleep. On the other hand, she had no doubts about what he would do if he came home to find her sleeping in the nude.

Buffy slipped out of her clothing. She surveyed the contents of his side of the closet. There were jeans (in varying stages of black to faded), black T-shirts, and two button up shirts. One was red; the other was a deep maroon. After a moment, Buffy slipped on the maroon one, buttoning a single button.

Slowly, she approached the bed. Spike woke up the instant her knee made contact with the mattress and the balance shifted. Buffy brought her other knee up to his side, straddling him.

Spike’s eyes darkened with interest when he saw what she was wearing. “And what are you up to?”

Buffy put her hands on his chest and leaned over him. “You never wear this. I thought I might.” She smiled. “Are you…up?”

“Gettin’ there.”

Spike’s fingers traced over the material at the front of the shirt, following the open ‘V’ made by the single fastened button. His hands slipped underneath, squeezing her breasts.

Buffy settled herself down against him. He was already hard beneath her.

She moved, shifting her hips and taking his length in her hand. Spike’s eyes closed as she started to envelop him.

“Sorry I woke you up,” she whispered playfully when he was fully inside.

Spike pushed the bottom of the shirt open so he could see where they joined. “Can think of worse ways to wake up.”

They slowly moved together, Spike stretched beneath her, his fingers digging into her hips as she rode him. Buffy had her hands planted on his shoulders, and the ends of her hair kept brushing his face. Once, as she heated up, she moved to unbutton the shirt, but his husky ‘leave it,’ changed her mind.

Spike flipped them over sometime; she wasn’t quite aware of him doing it until she found the mattress against her back and him moving on top of her. He desperately plunged in and out of her, building to a climax that was quickly followed by her own.

Spike sighed in contentment afterward, burying his face in her hair.

“You wanna go out tonight?” he breathed.

“That would be good. Though it would require me putting on my own clothes.”

“That would be bad.”

“Well, we don’t have to move for a while.”

“I could move again.” Spike squeezed her butt.

Buffy giggled. “Just so long as we don’t move out of bed?”

He nibbled on her ear. “Exactly.”

Then only semi-hard inside her, he started to move again.
 
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