Chapter 10—Unheeded Warnings

Unheeded warnings, I thought I thought of everything—Pink Floyd, "Learning to Fly"

Willow returned to the trashed apartment that she used to share with the love of her life. Everything had been ripped from her, magic, friends, and Tara, and she looked for reasons and people to blame.

She found nobody but herself.

She still believed that someone did something the night she brought Buffy back. There was a niggling sense of wrongness itching inside her mind, and she pulled out the notebooks full of scribbles to research the spell again.

She may be a magical null now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t research magic. Maybe there was a way to change her null status. Maybe she could find a spell to restore her magic, and get another witch to perform it for her.

She pulled the books out of their hiding places too. If she could find a spell, she would be home free. She sat down with a cup of tea. She would find an answer to her dilemma, she was certain of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Xander paced back at his own apartment, and Anya sat on her corner of the couch, barely watching anymore.

“So all she wants us to do is approve of her sick relationship with Spike. Support her. Pat her on the back for nailing another one of the hateful dead.” He paused. “I wonder if that’s what it takes to turn her on, the lack of a pulse.”

Anya threw the bride’s magazine aside, and stomped toward the front door, muttering under her breath. Xander ran to stop her, and stood in front of the door.

“Ahn, what’s wrong now?”

She glared at him. “You know, I thought I could get used to it. All I’ve ever heard from you is Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. But now, it isn’t just Buffy, its Buffy's relationships, and Buffy's sex life, and Buffy's predicaments. And it’ll always be Buffy for you, won’t it, Xander? Nobody else measures up to Buffy, and nobody ever will. Are you ever going to realize that she doesn’t like you that way? You have no chance with her, Xander. None. Until you realize that, there is no place in your life for me. Goodbye, Xander.” She shoved him out of the way, and left quietly, closing the door behind her.

Xander stood staring at the closed door, not believing his incredible luck, good, bad, or otherwise.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike was sitting on the cot with his back to the wall, reading, when he heard the basement door open and caught a whiff of her scent. He closed the book, careful to mark his place, and waited for her to come to him.

He had done his best to stay away from her. At first, it was easy. The woman he knew was different from the woman upstairs. The one upstairs was stronger, more confident, more in control. Not like the one who had jumped. Well, there were hints of what she could become, with the right input, but she never allowed him to give that input.

She stood at the foot of the stairs, watching him. She did that a lot nowadays. So much so, he started avoiding her even more. Creeping around when he thought the house slept. Secluding himself.

She moved toward him across the basement, and it was the first time in the ages since he felt stalked like prey. “Buffy?” He hated the echo of nerves in his voice, but they weren’t new. Everything about the Slayer made him nervous. He wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Spike. Why are you avoiding me?” Her tone was soft and dangerous.

“I…I don’t know, Slayer.” She advanced on him further, and he drew himself up on the cot. “You’re different from…when you left.”

“When I died. Say it, Spike.”

“When you died. Satisfied?”

Her mouth curled in the ghosting smile that played across her lips. He’d seen it so many times since she’d been back that it lost its charm, for it was nearly always followed by a cutting remark or a growled threat. He wondered what end of her pointed tongue he would receive from her this time.

“No, Spike, I’m not even close to satisfied. In fact, I’m a little hurt. You’ve barely spoken to me since I’ve been back. You hide in this basement, you creep around the house in the middle of the night, and you don’t try to do anything with me. What’s up your butt? Why can’t you just accept that I love you?”

She was shaking, tears forming on the tips of her lashes. “You know, I watched you grieve. I told you that. I fell in love with you. I think I was already falling before I died. I was afraid. Afraid of Giles, afraid of my friends, afraid of Angel. Afraid of them all, and why? Because I thought they would think less of me for loving you. But after I got there? After I watched? I saw the meaning of true love. Even without a soul, you shined bright and true. You asked me for a crumb once. I’m offering you the full loaf and you hide like it scares you to death. Or life. Or unlife. Whatever.” She frowned, and he took the silent moment for his only chance.

“I do love you. I want you to be sure. If we do this, it changes everything. For both of us. And I don’t want you to beat me up and take it all back. I chased after you for the better part of a year, and lost you in the end. I can’t do it again, Buffy. I can’t be love’s bitch and lose again.” His voice cracked, and he shook the emotion off.

When he spoke again, his voice was cooler, distant. “We’re both different now. You’re more mature. Sure of yourself. I’ve had my heart broken. Even with you right here, it isn’t easy to mend.”

“I didn’t dive to hurt you. I jumped to save the world.”

“I know, pet. And I’ve thought of a thousand different endings, a hundred and forty-seven ways I could have saved you and the Bit. Kicked myself at least ten times that. Having you here has made me happier than you’ll ever know. But I have to know. I have to be sure. ‘Cause the next time you die? I’m in the sun the next dawn.”

“No.” Her knees thudding on the concrete floor punctuated her whisper, and he went to her side. “I will always find my way back to you.”

She threw her arms around his neck, and his hands went automatically to her hips, pulling her closer to him. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of Slayer, honeysuckle, and tears.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.”

Her hands flew like butterflies over his face, touching cheekbones and hollows and ridges. She rubbed her finger over the scar on his brow, and he pressed his forehead to hers. “What are you doing to me, Slayer?”

“Loving you, silly vampire.”

“Why?”

She pulled back to look into his eyes. “Why? Haven’t we waited long enough? Haven’t we both given enough to the Powers? Can’t we just take something for ourselves?”

He quirked the brow she still touched, and smirked. “That sounds more like something I’d say, pet. Something I would use to talk you into it.”

“Isn’t that ironic? Is it working?”

His face softened. “You can’t tell?”

“I’m not pressed that close. Spike, I love you.”

“I love you, pet.”

“I know.” She pressed her forehead to his again. “Spike, I want us to be together always. I want to marry you. I want to be your mate. I want you to claim me. All of it, the whole enchilada. You…God, it sounds so sappy, but you are my other half, the one thing I’ve always looked for, waited for. You make me strong.”

“I’m not perfect, pet. Never will be.”

“You’re perfect enough for me.” She stood, and dragged him to his feet. “Look at us. Perfectly matched. I fit,” she said, closing on him, “right under the curve of your chin. We touch at the most important places. Your darkness fits right against my light. Where I’m ruthless, you’re soft, and vice versa. We were created as perfect complements to one another. Can you see it? I saw it.”

His arms came around her. “I know, pet. Saw it myself, long before you ever did. True case of opposites attracting.” He paused, and the full meaning of her exposition hit his brain. “Was that a proposal?”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess it was at that.” She pulled away to look into his face, and he noticed the anxiety twisting her features, worry that she would be rejected yet again.

“I guess the answer would be yes, if I have to answer right this minute, pet. But isn’t it my place to ask you?”

“If I waited for you, I’d still be waiting for you to come out of hiding.”

“It wasn’t so much hiding, pet, as it was coming to terms,” he said. An idea flitted through his mind, and he grabbed it. “Would you go out with me? On a date?”

“You’re asking me out on a date?”

“Well, yeah. We kinda skipped that whole part of the courtship thing, didn’t we?”

She giggled. “Patrol dates don’t count?”

She started toward the stairs, pulling him by the hand. “So, are you coming upstairs now? Will you come back up and live with us instead of hiding from us?”

He smiled up at her. “Yeah, pet, I will.”


A/N: Love those reviews, people! They make my heart sing and my muse eager to write...just sent more chapters to my fang-tastic beta, BloodyTearsOfLife, so yes, there is more to come!