Author’s Note: This is a really talky chapter, and some of it might feel a little like a rehash. I tried to keep that to a minimum, though. No warnings, except for excessive dialogue and some cheesiness.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all recognizable characters, locations, and dialogue belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the various writers. Show writers and any other quoted authors have been credited in individual chapters. I'm making no money from this—it is purely in the name of fun.

Betaed by Phuriedae and Science

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Chapter 69
Confessions


I don't give them everything. Some of it I know Spike wouldn't want them to know, and some of it I know he really didn't want me to know. A couple of times I realize I've mentioned something that I forgot to tell him the first time around because his fingers tighten ever so slightly on my back before relaxing again.

But I talk about New York, and Nikki, and the subway trip back through time. I describe how Nikki showed me some of the worst things that Spike had ever done, though I try not to go into too many details. I explain how, after reading Spike's journal, I knew that he'd changed, and that the monster he had been before wasn't what he was now. I tell them exactly what her last words to me were, and how she gave me the coat.

Then I describe China, and the other Slayer and seeing Spike kill her. I explain how she showed me that Spike was a warrior, though I leave out the bit about the Slayer he didn't kill. I show them the sword she gave me.

When I get to the part about Spike's past, I try to simplify it a bit. I know Spike doesn't want them to know what he was, but Giles stops me and makes me go back. I stumble for a minute, trying to figure out what to say, but Spike saves me the trouble.

"I was a ponce, alright?" Spike interrupts, glaring at Giles. "A right proper Victorian git. Went to Eton, Cambridge, graduated top of my class. Only thing I knew about fighting back then was how to duck and the closest I ever got to a brawl was bein' set on by half my form one night for some minor offense or another. I was a bleedin' gentleman. The sort of nancy-boy who would rather write poetry about some chit who'd never love him back than keep a soddin' mistress. Night I got turned I was sobbing out my broken virgin heart. Not my finest moment."

Giles looks floored. Lydia looks like she's just seen the Holy Grail.

"They made Drusilla be my guide for that part," I say softly, picking up the story. "She... made me be in Spike's head, the night he crawled out of his... his grave."

"Fuck," Spike says, staring at me in shock. "Bloody hell, you didn't tell me that."

"Oops?" I say. "I... it didn't seem that important. Just..."

"Not something I ever would have..." Spike's hand trembles for a minute, against my back. "She shouldn't have made you watch..."

"I get it now," I say softly. "Why you breathe."

"Buffy—" he says, but I hush him with a finger over his mouth.

"I get it now," I tell him. "That was the point, wasn't it? Learning to understand you? That's why they made me see all those things with Angelus, too."

"Angelus?" Xander says. "He was there?"

Spike meets my eyes for a moment, then nods. So I talk. I talk about Spike and Drusilla's hunts, and how Angelus made Spike learn. I tell them about watching Angelus beat him in an alleyway, and about the wedding and all the things that I had to witness. I even give them a slightly cleaned up version of the night Angelus beat Spike after screwing Drusilla in front of him.

"I know now," I say. "I know why Angelus is the way he is without a soul, and why Spike is so much more human." I show them the spike that Drusilla gave me.

When I turn to look at Spike, I know what he's thinking. I know that the last part, with his mother, was the worst thing I could have seen, and I know he doesn't want them to know about it. His jaw tightens slightly, but the look in his eyes tells me to do what I have to do.

"And then I was walking through the portal and into Louhi's world," I hear myself saying, "and freezing my ass off."

Spike's hand stills against my back, and if the others notice that I've skipped something, nobody comments on it. Which is good, because I don't want to tell them. They know everything they need to know about human William and there's no reason for them to know how deep his pain goes. They don't need to know about his mother. They wouldn't understand.

So instead I focus on describing hell, and the weird dimension with its unmoving sun and moon. They sit, quietly, and listen as I explain about Louhi's city, and seeing Jack, and how I got to Spike. I don't hide the condition I found Spike in, but I do skip over the part about him not having his chip anymore. I tell them about how we escaped, about the storm and the goblin army, and Pooh. I leave out the sexcapades, of course.

***

By the time I'm done my throat is raw from talking and my food is cold.

Without a word Tara picks up my bowl and takes it into the kitchen. A minute later I hear the microwave turn on.

"That's pretty much it," I say into the silence.

"How long were you there, Spike?" Giles asks softly.

"Long enough," Spike says, his voice hard. "Stopped measuring days and just concentrated on how long it had been between the hell bitch's visits. If there were an Olympic event for torture, Louhi could give Angelus a run for the gold."

"Did you learn anything while you were there that... that could be of use?" Giles asks.

Spike gives him a look full of disbelief. "Sorry, was too busy enjoying all those Turkish delights to pay much attention. What do you think, you berk?" He sighs. "'Bout the only thing I know is she's pretty much emptied the city down there. Figure she's been sending her minions up topside for awhile now and we've only seen the tip of the iceberg."

Tara comes back in and hands me my food and gives Spike a full thermos of blood. He nods at her gratefully.

A memory flickers. "Anya said that Louhi likes to stack the decks," I remember, glancing over at her. She’s still staring at Pooh in rapt fascination. Pooh is lying across Spike's feet, his big ears swiveling as if he's following the conversation. "Anya?"

"What?" she asks, looking up.

"Louhi, stacking decks? Any idea what she's doing with all these demons up here?" I ask.

Anya blinks. "She'll have a backup plan. And probably a backup plan for her backup plan."

"A Xanatos gambit," Xander says.

"A what?" I ask, frowning.

"Gargoyles," Spike says, surprising all of us. "What? It's a good show. What Harris meant is that Louhi wouldn't have pinned all her hopes on me taking her to prom. She'll have found another way to get there, just in case I stood her up."

"Actually," Anya says, "There's a good chance that the whole thing with Spike was just to buy her time to find a better power center. She needed him... but maybe she only needed him until she was strong enough for something bigger."

"Like the Hellmouth?" I suggest and watch the various expressions of fear flicker over everyone's faces.

"Probably," Anya says, chewing her lip. "But she'll need a way to power opening it."

"Crazy bitch feeds on pain," Spike says. "She'll need more of it than she was able to pry out of me."

"What do you mean, feeds on pain?" Giles asks. "Perhaps if we know more about how she feeds we might be able to stop her."

Spike's jaw clenches for a moment, then he scowls. "There's all sorts of pain, isn't there? Physical pain is the least of it, but that's where she starts. Stronger she gets, the deeper she goes. Mental, emotional pain... that's where she gets her real strength. Everything that's ever cut you, every hurt you've ever suffered, everything you might ever have felt guilty about. She digs in and draws it out of you, over and over again."

I look at him, wondering, but he refuses to meet my eyes.

"But you managed to block her, somehow?" Giles asks.

"Yeah," Spike says. "I did. It's human pain she needs. Demons aren't much for mental or emotional anguish. I didn’t feed, kept the demon at the surface, refused to let it fade. Most she could get out of me was a little physical pain, and the demon never minds that."

"You refused to feed?" Giles says, looking surprised. "You must have been there for months, though. Is that why you looked so...?"

"Told you it wasn't funny," Spike says.

"Er... yes, quite," Giles says.

"Can she still feed off you?" I ask, worried.

"Don't know," Spike says, frowning. "Can't unless she's near me. She needs to be close by, I think. But if she were to show up, or if we were to have to fight her... I don't know."

Giles and Whistler exchange a glance.

"This ritual thingie," I say. "It would prevent that?"

"Wait a minute," Xander interrupts. "We're not seriously considering that thing. Giles? I thought we were ... uh... looking for another way to, you know, break up Spike and the Snow Queen."

"We are," Giles says. "We—"

"You're staking my heart here, Rupes," Spike sneers. "Know what your other plan was. Thought I ought to come down with something dusty, did you?"

"Hold on, wait... you all discussed this?" I ask, frowning. "While we were gone you guys all talked about this?"

Everyone else exchanges guilty glances. God, when will my friends stop trying to orchestrate my life? By their time I'd been in hell for a couple of hours and they spent it trying to decide whether or not I should be with Spike?

"Were you even going to tell us?" I ask.

"I was," Whistler volunteers. "Prophecy crap. It's all part of that whole Slayer's Knight thing. In order to defeat her, kid, you're gonna need all the weapons you can get. You don't do this... there's a damn good chance she'll kick your ass and spirit Spike right back to where you just found him. But you do this thing and not only will it break her hold on Fang-face here, but it'll give you a major leg up on her Royal Frostiness. Your choice, of course."

"How does it work, exactly?" I ask.

Whistler sigh. "Knew you were gonna ask that. Thing is... you and Spike, you're like opposite sides of the same coin. You're pretty strong, on your own, but put together, you're gonna be even stronger. The way the ritual works... you gotta figure out what he's got, that you don't, that makes him stronger than you. And vice versa. You do a little hocus pocus, say the magic words, swap some blood—"

"Blood?" Xander asks.

"Yeah, blood," Whistler says.

"Why blood?" Xander asks. "Why couldn't it be, you know, friendship bracelets? Or locks of hair or something."

"It's always blood," Spike says. "Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going, makes you warm, makes you hard. It's the tightest bond there is. 'Course there's blood involved."

"Oh, please. Don't pretend you're not just itching for a chance to sink your fangs into Buffy," Xander says. "She might ... have a thing for you, but she learned her lesson after Angel, didn't you, Buff? You can't trust a vamp to keep his fangs to himself."

Spike growls and stands. Even as thin as he is, he looks dangerous. Xander doesn't back down though. He gets right in Spike's face.

"Not gonna bite her," Spike says. "And even if I had to, I wouldn't drain her. Not for the world."

"Yeah, well, we know how you are with Slayers, Chip Boy. Betcha can't eat just one," Xander snarks.

"Matter of fact, I only did eat—" Spike starts, but I interrupt before that road can lead to badness.

"Stop it, both of you," I say. "Whistler...?" Slowly, Spike and Xander both sit down, eying each other like two male tigers ready for a fight.

"Before these two clowns so rudely interrupted," Whistler says, "I was gonna say... basically the ritual allows you to share your strengths. You'll probably both end up a little stronger, or faster, but it goes deeper than that. And the connection will prevent Louhi from establishing a hold on either of you. She'll still be able to feed, but not like she can with Spike right now."

He pauses, then says. "You should know that there's a good chance that doing this might, ah, extend your tenure as the Slayer."

"How long?" I ask.

"We don't know," Whistler says. "Let's just say that the list of prophecies about you on your own could fill a book. But the ones about you two together... that's why we've got libraries."

That makes everyone shut up for a minute.

"You know what you’re asking, don't you?" I say, meeting his eyes.

He holds my gaze for a long moment, then nods.

"Yeah," he says. "It means that you're never going to be normal, and you'll be signing up to fight the good fight for a long, long time to come. Other Slayers... they'll fight, and they'll eventually get to rest. But, barring a successful apocalypse, or a really tragic accident, you're gonna be sticking around for a while."

"You mean, Buffy would be immortal?" Willow asks, frowning. Xander looks like someone just hit him.

"Immortal is a funny word. It means unkillable. Very few things are actually immortal—some things, like vamps, are just slightly less mortal than others. Buffy and Spike do this thing..." Whistler says, still meeting my eyes. "They can still be killed. It'll just be harder."

Spike takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

"It's too much...," Giles says. "Too much to ask of anyone. To not only to give up her—her mortality but..."

"I never really had it, though," I say. "Did I? Is Spike right, about Slayers? That we don't get old?"

Whistler makes a face, obviously knowing exactly what I'm talking about. "It's not something the PTB like getting around, you know. Most Slayers never live long enough to figure it out," he says. "But... yeah. Sorry, sweetie. When you won the Slayer lottery, you won it big time. There was never any chance of going back. The only Slayer retirement plan is the permanent one."

I nod. Around me, I notice, my friend's faces reflect shock, surprise, and in some cases they look like they'd figured it out ages ago.

"Okay," I say. "I get that I don't have a lot of choice here. When do I ever? But Spike... This... this is his decision, too. Not just mine. And you're pretty much asking him to defy his nature, everything he is... forever."

Only, I know that he'd do it anyway. It's not me that needs to hear this, though.

"Been there, done that," Spike says quietly. "Been doing that for years. Ever since that night when I made a deal with a bitchy little blonde Slayer to save the world. Besides... not like the whole champion gig doesn't come with perks."

"Perks?" Whistler says, amused.

"She's pretty damn perky, isn't she?" Spike says, leering at me.

"Hey!" I say, but I don't really mean it.

"But-but Spike doesn't have a soul," Willow says. "How can he be a champion?"

"He doesn't need one," I say. "The whole time trip thing made that kinda clear. Having a soul doesn't make you a champion. It's all about choice, really."

Whistler steps forward, setting down his beer and looking way more serious than usual.

"She's right. It's about choice. You understand what you'd be giving up?" he asks Spike. "You know what this means, right? 'Cause I need to hear it from you in order to appease the boys upstairs."

Spike looks him straight in the eye. "I know what I am. I know what I've done. Spent more than a century bathing in blood and the pain of the innocent. And it was fun. But that's not what I want anymore. I know now, what pain is. Little shaky on remorse and what all but... I get pain. It's never gonna be easy for me. You could stick a soul in me and I doubt it'd make it any easier. I've got a lot to make up for. Might take me another hundred years or more, but... I'm gonna try. That's all a man can do, right? Try?"

When he's done, everyone is quiet. Finally Whistler nods. "Good enough for me," he says.

"How do we do it?" I ask. "The ritual?"

"Oh, the usual," Whistler says. "Sand in a circle, bunch of smelly herbs, some candles, say a few words. Toss in some wine and you could make a night of it. There's this great Cabernet S—"

"Think I get the picture," I say. "And what'll happen after?"

"I don't know exactly. Like I said before, you'll share strengths, but after that...," Whistler says. "We've never done this before, understand. Not with a Slayer and a vamp, anyway. Some of it's going to be learn as you go. All I know is that the Powers stamped it with their seal of approval."

"Bloody reassuring to know that the Powers That Be are wingin’ it up there," Spike mutters.

"I don't like it," Giles says. "Surely there must be some other way..."

"This Louhi bitch is only one step down from a god. You know of some way of defeating a god that the PTB aren't aware of, throw it on the table," Whistler says. Giles clamps his mouth shut. "That's what I thought."

"Buffy," Xander says. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

I appreciate his concern. Hell, I appreciate all of their concern, but something I learned that night when I accidentally sent Spike to Hell? Listen to my friends, love them, but trust my own instincts and judgement. I can't let them always make decisions for me.

"I'm sure that we're done talking about it for now," I say. "In the end, this is between me and Spike. We'll talk about it later, after we've had some more sleep. Right now I think we need to focus on what else we can do to stop Louhi. Whistler, Lydia, does the prophecy have any more brilliant ideas?"

"Maybe," Lydia says, blushing a little now that she's been called to the floor. "Uh... If— if Mr. Giles and Mr. Whistler would care to help me I'm sure I can translate some more of it tonight."

"Okay, good," I frown. "What about magic? Willow, Tara, can you put together some spells that might be useful against her? We're going to need something to counteract some of her abilities. That whole freezing you where you stand is going to make fighting her a problem."

They nod. "W-we can look," Willow says. "I don't know if... if she's that powerful she can probably... but we can try."

I turn to Xander and Anya. "Anya, I need you to sit down and think of everything you know about Louhi, everyth—are you even listening to me?" Anya is still staring at Pooh. What the hell?

"Oh! Sorry," she says, looking up.

I frown at her, then down at Pooh, connecting dots. It's not a wolf, she'd said, when he came through the portal earlier. Where did you find one?

"You know what Pooh Bear is," I say.

"If you're not going to call him Jaws, Slayer, you could at least give him some dignity and call him Bear," Spike grumbles.

"Fine," I say, "Bear. You know what Bear is, don't you, Anya? Before we came through the portal, he was a massively huge polar bear. Now he's a massively huge dog."

"Technically," Anya says, "he's not really either. He's whatever he needs to be, though they pretty much stick to animal forms." Bear is watching her, his ears tilted in her direction, listening.

"What is he? A demon?"

Her eyes go wide. "Oh, no! He's not a demon at all. He's a spirit guide. They're kind of... warrior guardians. You see them sometimes when you're doing certain kinds of spells or trances, and sometimes they show up to protect people at important moments. They're really rare, and incredibly powerful."

I remember a mountain lion, leading me through the desert.

"But... from what you've said, I think maybe Louhi had captured him and was using him, maybe stealing his power. You freed him. I don't think you've bound him to you, but... he seems like he wants to stick around and help with the fight," Anya says. Bear's mouth opens in a lazy grin, tongue lolling. He gets up and pads over to Anya, who sits very still and watches him with wide, amazed eyes. Bear leans up—he doesn't have to go very far since he's pretty big and Anya's pretty small—and licks her face. She giggles and reaches out tentatively to pet him. With a groan he leans into the caress for a minute, then licks her face one more time before turning and coming back to his spot at Spike's feet.

"He really seems to like Spike," I say.

"Maybe he's decided to be Spike's guide," Anya says. "I'm not really sure how that works, but different spirits tend to latch on to different kinds of people."

"Okay, so... that's something in our favor, right?" I say. "We've got a powerful spirit warrior on our side now, too."

The others nod.

"Okay," I say, thinking quickly. "Spike and I still need to get back up to full fighting strength. Which unfortunately means more sleep, I think. We also need to talk about this whole ritual thing. Giles, I need you and Lydia and Whistler to go through the prophecy, and whatever books you can find on Louhi again. Wills, Tara, you're on magic duty. Get me whatever useful spells you've got. Anya, I need you to try to remember everything you know or have ever heard about Louhi and any of the demons she might have working for her. I need to know of any possible weaknesses."

"Guess I'm making the donut run," Xander says, sulking. "Or.. hobble, as the case may be."

"Sorry, Xan," I say. "But I need you to be army guy right now. We know that mortal weapons can't harm Louhi, but if she's got her demon army up here, we may need to find a way to fight off a lot of them, fast. Think Giant Snake Demon. Work with Anya. We need you to find ways to fight off whatever she throws at us."

Xander's eyes light up. "I can do that," he says.

"We also need to figure out where Louhi is going to try to get power from. If she can't feed off Spike, she's going to have to get her power from somewhere, and on a short schedule—for us, anyway."

Now everyone is nodding, coming together. This is why my friends are amazing: give us a crisis and we're totally together, like one big machine.

I stand up, forcing myself not to sway. God, I'm still tired. That nap earlier barely took the edge off. But from here on out, I'm going to have to make whatever rest I can get count. "One more thing," I say, feeling Spike rise and stand beside me. "I don't want to take the chance of Louhi attacking us when we're divided. Try to stick together as much as possible. Anyone who wants to is welcome to stay here tonight. Willow, can you maybe do a protection spell on the house? Something to warn us if any demons try to attack?"

"Sure," she says. "I brought stuff with me. You know... in case. I figured... well, better safe, right?"

"Good," I say.

"We'll make a run to the Magic Box," Giles says, "And get whatever books and supplies we need. I agree with Buffy, there's safety in numbers. We should all stay here, tonight."

"I'll get out some extra pillows and blankets," I say, and head for the stairs. "Someone can take the sofa, and there's a cot in the basement. There's the bed in the spare room... it's a little cluttered, but—and there's... there's m-mom's room."

"Buffy—" Spike says, reaching for me. I meet his eyes and see the concern in them.

"It's okay," I say, softly. "Mom would... it'd be okay."

He leans in and kisses me. Not a sexy kiss, though I don't think it's possible for Spike not to be sexy. It's just kind of how he is. This is a boyfriend kiss; the kind that says I love you, and it'll be okay. And it kind of is.

As we turn to go up the stairs, I hear the others moving around below, gathering things, picking up the leftovers from the Chinese food, getting their coats.

"Oh my god," Xander says, suddenly. I stop and turn around to see what he's freaking about. His eyes are on me and Spike on the stairs.

"What?" I ask.

"You! And Spike! You had sex!" he exclaims. Then his face drains of color. “You had sex in my sleeping bag!” Everyone freezes.

Well, almost.

"Well, I for one say finally," Anya says. Then she grins. "How's his stamina?"

I feel myself blush, and Spike leers a little, tongue behind his teeth. "Best eight hours of my unlife," he says.

"Oh dear lord," I hear Giles say before he bolts out the door.

***

"Buffy?"

Spike looks at me and shrugs, then heads into the bedroom. I turn around to face Willow, who is standing at the end of the hallway looking... guilty?

"What's up?" I ask.

"I'm sorry," she blurts.

"What huh?"

She takes a deep breath. "It was—it was my idea, to enchant the necklace," she says. "You didn't want to do it, but... I just wanted to help, and I thought...And if we hadn't, then maybe Spike would have won that challenge and you guys wouldn't have had to... And... If I’d known what you’d have to go through, what he would have to go through... "

"Willow, it's okay," I tell her. "Yeah, it was hard, but... I think it's what we had to do, you know?"

She nods and frowns, twisting her fingers in the strap of her purse. "We should have trusted you," she says. "It's just... it was Spike. Mr. Grumpy-pants, I'm-gonna-shove-this-bottle-through-your-face Spike."

"I know," I say, getting it.

"Are you sure... I mean, I know down there you said that... but are you sure that you ...w-want Spike?"

"I know it's—well, it's not anything I planned. But yeah, I do," I say. "I'm kinda massively in love with him. Sometimes... we don't get to pick who we fall in love with."

"I get that," Willow says, smiling. "But if he hurts you, I'm totally turning him into a frog, ‘kay?"

"Only if you can do it before I kick his ass," I tell her, with a grin. Then we're hugging and I feel like it'll be all right. Somehow, it's going to work out fine.

“Not entirely sure I want the details on this one,” she says. “I mean, not unless they’re really romantic or something. Are they... romantic?” The look on her face says that she can’t picture Spike and romance going in the same sentence. I can’t picture them not.

“Some of them,” I confess.

She just raises her eyebrows. “Spike?”

“I know,” I tell her. “Believe me. But... there’s more to him than I ever thought. He’s got... layers.”

“So do onions,” she points out.

“So does cake.”

“Spike is cake?” Willow asks, scrunching her nose up.

“Spike is...” I pause, trying to think how to describe him. “Spike is Spike.”

“And you love him?”

“I do,” I tell her. “I really, really do.”

“More than Angel?” she asks.

The bedroom door suddenly seems interested in our conversation. Spike and I are going to have to have a talk about eavesdropping. Not that it’s likely to make much of a difference.

“I’m... I’m not sure that you can love someone more,” I say. “Do you love Tara more than you loved Oz?”

Willow thinks about it for a minute. “No,” she says. “Just... differently.”

“If he came back again?” I ask.

“I’d still be with Tara,” she says. She gets it, I think.

“Are we... are we good?” I ask. “I mean, I know you don’t love Spike...”

“No,” she says. “But you do. And, while it’s kinda majorly strange... that’s what matters. Still—got that frog spell ready and waiting. You just say the word.”

“I won’t,” I tell her, smiling and giving her another hug. That big weight on my chest lifts a little.

"Here," she says, digging in her bag. She pulls out a velvet sack tied shut with a cord. "It... well, it's the stuff you need, for the ritual. And instructions. I thought... I know we're running out of time and I thought you might want to do it, and maybe you wouldn't want to make a big thing of it, so..."

"Thank you," I tell her, hugging her again, tighter. "Thank you so much."