Fool For Love

“Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you’ll like it as much as she did.”

Spike pulled back and regarded the Slayer. She was standing before him in the alley of the Bronze and he still couldn’t figure out if she’d brought his ‘every Slayer has a death wish’ speech. He knew it wasn’t true, it didn’t apply to this girl who was watching him with eyes threatening to betray the hurt he’d caused in her.

She didn’t have a death wish.

She was so full of life that she made him feel alive by just being near her, like he was right now.

But in his eyes, he still wasn’t near enough.

He needed to get closer, to scratch the itch that had been driving him insane these past few weeks--to prove to himself once and for all that there could be a chance for him with Buffy.

Twisted as a vampire falling for the Slayer sounded, it was Spike’s lot in the great cosmic joke and he was going to make the most of it.

Buffy struggled to contain the horror she felt on hearing Spike’s words. He’d told her things she’d never wanted to hear and deep down inside she knew he was right, and that scared her.

More than anything.

More than everything.

“Get out of my sight, Spike. Now.” Buffy ground out, no longer wanting to be in his presence when she knew she couldn’t hide how much his words had hurt her. She couldn’t let him see her upset, couldn’t appear weak in front of him, she had to hold on just a few minutes longer and keep up the pretence of just being angry.

Not hurt like she really was. An aching had settled inside her and she couldn’t help being overwhelmed by what she was feeling.

She felt as though she was surrounded by death and it was clawing away at her in an attempt to get a firm hold so it could drag her down with it--just like he’d said.

But Spike didn’t go, he didn’t leave her like she wished he would, he just leaned toward her, visibly enjoying her distress.

“Oh, did I scare ya?” Spike edged nearer her, telling himself repeatedly that he should just do as she asked and leave before she kicked his arse, but finding himself unwilling to let this moment slip through his fingers. Besides, he couldn’t stop himself, if he got the chance to get this feeling out of his system it would be worth it, and there was only one way to escape his feelings for Buffy--it was either fight or fuck. So, he opted for fight, because the other one still had his mind reeling. “You’re the Slayer. Do something about it. Hit me.”

Buffy let her breathing turn heavy, expressing how agitated she was and how exasperated she was beginning to feel over his not heeding her warning.

He was openly challenging her, asking her to fight him and right now, she was more than happy to oblige.

Only she couldn’t.

She couldn’t find the strength within herself to take out her feelings on Spike, even when he was asking for it. What he’d told her was true and although he’d intended to hurt her with his words, to irritate her more than he’d ever succeeded to in the past, she was thankful to him for giving her the insight no other had been able to, and now she couldn’t do as he asked.

“Come on.” Spike edged ever closer to her, unable to stop himself from closing the gap between them and no longer able to ignore the way her chest was heaving, her heart pounding in his ears and her eyes as they searched his. “One good swing. You know you want to.”

Buffy tried to ignore all the warning signs as they started springing up inside her--he was far too close for comfort now.

“I mean it.” She gave him a stern look.

“So do I. Give it me good, Buffy. Do it.” Spike retaliated and he actually meant it, he needed some form of relief from the Slayer and if she wasn’t going to give it to him the way he asked then there was only one other way to get it.

“Spike.” Buffy ground out and glared at him.

Before she knew what was going on, alarm bells rang in her head. Spike was looking at her mouth, was so close to her that she could see his tongue curling between his parted lips and she found her heart racing in anticipation.

He was going to kiss her.

Oh god.

Buffy felt her whole body switch to panic mode as he hesitated for a moment and then dipped his head toward hers. She breathed out sharply and found herself backing away even when her lips ached to feel his pressing against them.

Her mind went onto Slayer autopilot as her body sung a siren song to Spike.

“What the hell are you doing?” She put on her best revolted look and couldn’t miss the hurt in his eyes as he looked at her.

Spike hesitated again for a moment, unsure of how to proceed now that he’d tried to kiss Buffy. Lunging forward, he caught hold of her shoulders.

“Come on. I can feel it, Slayer.” Spike frowned at her as she clearly tried to mask her feelings and look affronted by his attempt.

Buffy’s panic went into overdrive as she felt his long fingers grasping her upper arms and digging in slightly through her jacket as she stared into the dark blue eyes that were now flashing with anger.

He was so close.

And she felt so helpless.

She was rapidly losing control as her eyes remained locked with his, searching them repeatedly for the motivation behind his attempted kiss and coming up with the same answer every time.

He was either crazy, or he was harbouring feelings for her.

Or both.

Spike gripped her arms tighter as he clenched his jaw and stared hard into her eyes. She was leaning her head back now, a manoeuvre so reminiscent of a move she’d made, or at least Faith in her body had made, last year down the Bronze.

A move he couldn’t forget.

“You know you wanna dance.” Spike kept her eyes locked with his as he searched for an answer in them.

Buffy just stared at him for a moment, her breathing falling into synchronisation with his as she felt warmth settling in her stomach. She knew what he meant, what he was referring to as dancing. It was their dance, even when it had been all about fighting there had always been an animal magnetism behind it that had left her thinking about him for days afterwards.

Maybe it was time to surrender and dance with all her heart.

“Say its true.” She started and couldn’t miss the hope that was visible in his eyes as he waited for her next words. “Say I do want to.”

Buffy felt all that hope in her hands, all that happiness she could possibly give him by acceding that she wanted to dance with him to their own tribal beat, and it weighed a lot.

A little too much.

The calm spell she’d been passing through was suddenly shattered by a million fears over surrendering to her desires and it all came flooding in so quickly that she didn’t have time to rationalise what she was doing.

In a split second, she’d pushed Spike to the floor and she instantly regretted it when he looked up at her, his eyes once more full of pain and anger.

And she wondered how she would have felt had they been in each other’s shoes.

It seemed that all she did was push people away from her in order to protect herself.

If Spike had rejected her, she would have been as hurt as he looked. Deep inside her, she wanted to make amends, but there was no way she could change what she’d done now.

There were no words to tell him, they wouldn’t come.

Instead, she just looked down at him, seeing for the first time how much she could hurt people by pushing them away. The anguish was clearly written across his face, and in the way that he was sprawled out on the floor and looking up at her as though she just trampled his heart into the dust and spat on it.

Staring down at him she felt the pang of guilt sharp in her stomach like a shard of glass and considered what she was going to do now.

Swallowing down the tight lump of emotions in her throat she found no way of justifying what she had done to him and she couldn’t bare the sight of him so dejected any longer.

Turning on heel, she did the only thing she was good at when it came to her feelings.

She ran away.

But there was no escape tonight.


Buffy shut the door behind her as she stepped out onto the back porch, her hands rubbing her arms as she tried to keep the chill off her bones.

It wasn’t cold out tonight.

But she felt icy inside.

She heaved another sigh as she slowly sat down on the porch step, the hold she had over the fragile remains of her emotions threatening to snap if she moved too fast.

She couldn’t believe how cold the world was, everything seemed to have conspired against her and now she was starting to feel truly alone.

Staring at the grass in front of her, she let a tear slip down her cheek. She was alone now; free to release her feelings and succumb to them as she tried to piece together everything that was happening.

Her mother was going into hospital.

Everywhere she turned, death was staring her in the face.

Her head ached.

Her throat was dry.

It was all too much and she felt like she was going to be pulled under, engulfed by everything that was happening around her, and she’d finally find that death wish Spike had told her about.

Burying her face in her hands, she let her fingers slip through her hair as she curled up into a ball and cried in earnest.

Here, in the darkness, she could cry and no one would think the worse of her for it, no one would judge her as weak, and she wouldn’t shatter the precious illusion of strength that she’d built up around her.

Because that was all it was--an illusion.

Underneath it all, she hurt just as easy as anyone else but she couldn’t let it show, had to be the great protector and the strong woman her family and friends expected her to be.

She didn’t want her mother to die, she couldn’t cope without her and she certainly didn’t want to die herself.

Why? Why could she stop apocalypses, save peoples lives from demons and even save herself, but she couldn’t save her mother from this--whatever this was.

She was powerless.

Reduced to nothing but a mere girl sitting on a back porch, too scared to let her mother see she was upset about her being ill, about the possibility of losing her.

A noise drew her attention and she paused her sobs, and took a moment to gather herself before looking up.

“What do you want now?” Buffy tried her hardest to sound indifferent but she knew she couldn’t hide from him how upset she was.

Spike stared down at her, his intentions disintegrating before his eyes as he saw the tears shining on her cheeks and heard the note of anxiety in her voice.

Lowering his gun, he locked eyes with her and found himself suddenly wanting to offer her whatever comfort she’d accept from him.

“What’s wrong?” He queried in a gentle tone of voice that seemed to have fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

Suddenly confronted with the memory of what she’d done to hurt him earlier that night, Buffy drew her eyes away from Spike as he stood before her awaiting her reply.

She didn’t know what to say, part of her just wished he’d go away but the stronger part of her wanted him to stay.

To comfort her.

To take away her hurt, smooth her hair and tell her it was okay, everything would turn out fine in the end.

Turning her head to the side, she stared at the wooden decking and wrapped her arms around herself.

But she knew he wouldn’t stay. He’d be appalled by her weakness and would leave her alone to mourn her losses before they’d even happened.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said solemnly, simple words devised to push him away so she didn’t have to confront what she really wanted and wouldn’t be hurt when she didn’t get it.

Spike lowered his gun completely; wondering for a moment if she’d even noticed it. He was struggling inside and he knew she would be able to see it written in his face if she looked up at him again, but he didn’t know what to do.

She’d trampled on his feelings, crushed his heart into the dirt and yet here he was, desperately searching for something to say that would bridge the gap between them.

Something that would make her feel better.

This was uncharted territory for him. He searched his brain for a memory that told him the appropriate way to act but came up with nothing. He’d never been the comforter, never played the role of the shoulder to cry on--not even with Dru in reality, she’d merely wanted mollycoddling, but Spike knew that Buffy wouldn’t accept that.

She needed real comfort.

Someone to take the pain away.

He blinked rapidly and then raised his eyes to look at her, trying to think of the right thing to say in this kind of situation. “Is there something I can do?”

Buffy let her eyes widen as a thought flitted across her mind. She tried to dismiss it, but it lodged there and refused to go. She struggled against the idea and even as she did so, she felt Spike moving to sit next to her, his hand coming to rest ever so gently against her back.

He was actually staying. He wasn’t going to leave her like she’d presumed he would.

She drew comfort from his presence next to her as though she was drawing strength from him directly.

Was there something he could do? She tried again to dismiss the thought that question had raised. There was something, and it was something he alone had the power to do but she feared saying the words.

Feared what she’d be asking.

Knew she’d show him how weak she really was.

Spike let his fingers play in small, soothing circles on her back as he waited for her to speak. He could feel all the tension in her, had seen deep upset in her eyes and something told him it wasn’t all about him--but a fraction of it was.

He’d seen that before she’d left him in the alley.

A moment of regret on her part.

Now she looked so petrified and small. All he wanted to do was protect her when she looked so human, so much like the girl she really was. He sighed as he leaned forward and snuck a look at her face, seeing the tears still shining on her cheeks as she continued to stare straight ahead.

Her lips parted.

Two words tumbled carelessly out and they dropped like lead weights in his stomach.

“Turn her.”

Spike looked incredulous. Was she talking about whom he thought she was talking about? He knew Joyce was ill but he didn’t think she’d take this drastic a step to make her better again.

The tremble in her voice gave away that she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, and Spike latched onto it in the hope he’d make her see it was nothing but a bad idea.

He should know.

His dead heart ached with the memory.

“No.” Spike answered flatly and saw new tears cascade down her cheeks as she turned her head sharply to face him.

Buffy felt her heart ache as she looked into his eyes, his outright rejection of her request causing new tears to sting her eyes.

He could see the pain shining brightly in her orbs, they were wide with shock over his refusal to help her and he felt her look hit him hard in the chest. He didn’t want to cause her further pain but he couldn’t do what she was asking him to.

His words about death wishes came back to haunt him and he closed his eyes briefly. How was he to know she’d come back to find this greeting her? Whatever had happened, it had upset her to the point where she was desperately trying to kick into Slayer mode no matter how much the girl inside just wanted to cry until she was sick.

“Why?” Buffy croaked out as she sniffled.

Spike gave her a look full of curiosity as she mouthed the word again, tears tumbling down her flushed cheeks. He didn’t know whether she was asking him why he’d refused to turn her or if there was some other question he should instinctively know she was asking.

“Why what, love?” Spike dipped his head and looked into her eyes as she continued to hold herself, they were growing more and more bloodshot by the second.

He realised he hated seeing her upset. Hated seeing her feeling so alone and miserable.

He also realised that Buffy was struggling against her emotions as she tried to answer his question, and it looked as though she was losing the battle.

Letting his hand rest softly against her back he leaned toward her and decided to make things easy on her for a change.

“Is it your mother?” Spike queried and when she nodded, he nodded too. “Something bad?”

Buffy raised her eyes to meet his and blinked as she stared into them.

It was something bad.

Something so bad that she couldn’t face it. She could face apocalypses and hell itself, but she couldn’t face this.

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears again as she thought about having to face life without her mother there beside her.

Spike continued to rub small circles gently against her back and felt the hiccup of a sob as it broke free of her lips. It was rapidly followed by another and another as she lost all control over her emotions.

“Why?” Buffy asked again as she kept her eyes locked with his. She was still amazed by his refusal. Their earlier moment in the alley, and now this, were compounding to confuse her. She couldn’t get her head around how he suddenly seemed so full of strong emotions.

Or was it that now he’d thrown them in her face, she couldn’t miss seeing them.

Had they always been there?

She remembered all the times she’d patrolled with him, all the moments they’d spent together over the years and the times she’d witnessed him with Drusilla.

And it hurt.

Because suddenly he seemed to know how to love, when she didn’t.

Spike wracked his brain for an answer to her question. He tried to search her eyes for what she was asking him but all he could see in them was a deep pain.

Buffy took a long breath and sighed it out. “Why won’t you?”

“Turn your mother?” He looked as though he was weighing her question carefully.

Buffy nodded weakly and tried to keep a hold over her emotions as she watched him considering what she had asked him.

Spike hesitated for a moment longer and then sighed as he closed his eyes. He tried to convince himself that at a time like his, he could trust the Slayer with what he needed to tell her in order to make it clear as to why he wouldn’t do as she asked.

But memories are haunted places and the thought of going back there scared him after all these years of keeping it locked away inside.

“Spike?” Buffy said, her voice no more than a hushed whisper as she let her green eyes search his for the reason behind his silence.

“What I’m going to tell you, it goes no further than us.” Spike said solemnly and turned his head to one side, moving his eyes away from Buffy’s as he waited for her reply. “I don’t ask much…not from you, not from anyone, but I need to ask you this.”

“What?” Buffy leaned forward and didn’t bother trying to hide her curiosity--her own feelings seemed to drift into the background for a moment as she wondered what had him so sombre.

“If I tell you…promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Spike said the words slowly, considering each one as he stared at the moonlit grass.

Buffy sat back as she tried to think of something to say. She wanted to know what Spike had to tell her but at the same time, she wasn’t in the habit of making promises to a vampire. Whatever he was going to tell her it was going to be big, a revelation that was going to chip away at the ice around her heart and was going to make her feelings towards him grow stronger.

She could feel it.

Sense it, even.

She knew in her heart that he was going to reveal something to her that could possibly compound her feelings and she would no longer be able to deny them.

But now he’d told her she had to promise in order to hear what he had to say, she couldn’t do anything but do as he asked.

She had to know.

“Promise.” Buffy breathed out the word and felt nerves settle in her stomach, worsening the feeling that had already settled there and was making her feel sick.

Spike closed his eyes, partly wishing that she’d refused to promise not to tell anyone so he didn’t have to say what he was going to.

He heaved a sigh and stared at the floor, trying to arrange his thoughts into some semblance of order so he could start. Pulling a cigarette out of his pack, he placed it against his lips and lit it up, inhaling the calming smoke as he readied himself.

“What you asked me to do…you wouldn’t like.” Spike started and felt her shift closer to him; he could see her hair swaying softly in the breeze as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Why?”

“Because…” Spike stammered and struggled against the feelings welling up inside of him. He’d not thought about what he’d done for almost a century and yet it still made him ache inside, still brought tears of remorse into his eyes. He took another long drag on his cigarette and tried again. “Because it wouldn’t be your mother.”

Buffy swallowed that piece of information and suspicion began to dawn in her mind.

“Listen, love, take it from someone who knows, it would be easier to let her go naturally than to take her forcibly. Things might not turn out as bad as you’re thinking they will. Right now, you’re hurting and you’re scared, but it’s no reason to go taking such a drastic step. You’d hate me, for a start, then you’d hate yourself for what you’d done to someone you loved…”

Buffy struggled to breathe as her throat ached and large hot tears spilt onto her cheeks. Spike was right, she wasn’t being rational and her emotions were clouding her judgement.

She stilled as she heard him sniff.

Her eyes followed his hand as he wiped his palm across his cheek and muttered something to himself.

He was crying.

Now she’d seen everything.

Her supposedly strong vampire, heartless and soulless, was crying over her request for him to turn her mother.

Or was it something else that had upset him?

And since when was he her vampire?

Buffy pushed that thought away and found herself echoing his earlier words. “What’s wrong?”

Spike tensed as he felt her hand against his back. He focused on the feeling of her fingers playing on his leather duster and how impossibly close to him she suddenly was.

“Nothing.” He mumbled as he finally gained control of his emotions.

“You didn’t make me promise not to tell anyone purely to tell me I’m being silly, Spike. I know you, know there’s more to this than you’re saying.” Buffy frowned at what she could see of his profile and let her fingers continued to draw patterns on his shoulders. She could feel how tense he was, how hard he was trying to keep control.

Spike sighed emphatically.

“Right.” He said quietly, as though he was telling himself that he could do this, he could tell her the real reason behind why he wouldn’t turn Joyce. “Your mum…she’s a special lady, like my mum was. Hell, she means a lot to me too, you know? She’s a good woman, is Joyce…doesn’t deserve to have that done to her. Same way my mum didn’t.”

Buffy noticed the way the volume of his voice had trailed off towards the end, and she got the feeling it had been a long time since he’d talked about this.

“Your mom?” She asked tentatively, not wanting to upset him further but needing to know what had happened to his mother that still upset him after all these years.

“I loved my mother…as much, if not more, than you love yours. She was my world.” He took another long drag on his cigarette and breathed the smoke out slowly. “She wasn’t well, consumption.”

“Consumption?” Buffy pulled a face that said she didn’t understand and Spike finally turned his to look at her. She could see the tears in his eyes shining in the moonlight and had to forcibly stop her hand as it started moving toward him, wanting to wipe away the ones that had fallen onto his ashen cheeks.

“TB, love. Was called consumption back then…guess that’s what it did. Ate you up. Hollowed you out. Then finally killed you.” Spike let his gaze drop to rest on his hands as he thought about what he was going to say next. No matter how carefully he worded it, she was going to freak out all the same.

Glancing into her eyes quickly, he savoured the concern reflecting in hers and how innocent they looked with her tenderness.

“When Dru turned me…I felt alive…”

“You said that earlier.” Buffy didn’t mean her words to come out with the jealous edge that laced them, but they seemed to escape her lips so quickly she couldn’t keep them inside.

“I know…was making a point, love.” Spike would’ve chuckled at her bitterness and impatience had his heart not felt so heavy. “I was trying to say, I felt alive…free…strong…but I was leaving behind the one thing I loved most, the one person I couldn’t live without.”

“Oh…your mother.” She said softly with realisation and he nodded.

“I couldn’t leave her…thought about what consumption was doing to her and how I felt, had to do what I could to ease her pain. I didn’t realise what I was doing, didn’t think of the consequences. I’m just a fool for love…” Spike turned his head away from Buffy as he heard her gasp.

“You…that’s why you said no, because you turned your mother?”

He nodded gravely, refusing to look at her.

“What happened?” Buffy knew it was morbid curiosity to continue questioning him when he was clearly upset but it was the only thing stopping her from having to deal with the revelation--Spike had maintained feelings for his mother after his death, he’d kept the emotions he felt for her. He’d kept his emotions. It didn’t shock her, it was more of a comforting feeling knowing that she hadn’t been imagining things and hadn’t been trying to place feelings in him that didn’t exist as way of justifying the fact she couldn’t kill him.

Because to have feelings was to be human, and Spike with feelings meant she couldn’t stake him, couldn’t kill him and see the pain in his eyes as he turned to dust.

Because Spike with feelings was strangely what she’d wanted all along. She’d wanted him to feel, wanted to believe he could love, that he could do good if given the chance.

Wanted him to be by her side in her battles against evil.

Wanted him.

She heaved a sigh as her emotions became muddled inside her.

Spike frowned for a moment as he looked over his shoulder at her and saw the mixed expression on her face. She looked as though she was still struggling with everything that had happened before he’d arrived and that it had now been joined by what he’d confessed to.

“I turned her…thought I was saving her, when in reality I damned her. She was a good woman, could’ve seen the pearly gates, but I sent her to hell, Buffy…I sent her to hell.” Spike’s voice broke as the tears welled up in his eyes again and he no longer tried to contain them.

“Shh…you didn’t know.” Buffy whispered and found her arms wrapping around him, pulling him to her and cradling his head against her neck.

She was surprised at her actions and even more surprised by the fact she didn’t feel any danger from having him so close to her throat.

As he nuzzled her neck, she swallowed hard and he pulled away, tears streaking his face.

“I’m sorry…” Spike mumbled and tried his best not to look doubly hurt when her arms slipped from around his shoulders.

“It’s fine…I just wanted…I’m sorry for asking you to, you know, I never knew, I would never have asked if I had any clue…” She stumbled over her words as she tried to half reassure him and half apologise for what the pain she’d unconsciously caused.

Thinking about what she’d asked and what he’d told her, she was silently thankful that he’d appeared in her garden and stayed with her. He hadn’t questioned her weakness, or used it against her, instead he’d tried to make her strong again and attempted to show her that there was a chance that this thing with her mother was still nothing and she still had hope.

And even if that hope was a tiny one, she’d take hold of it and keep believing with all her heart.

Because Spike had given it to her.

And that made it all the more special.

“Spike?” Buffy asked as she raised her eyes to meet his again. She was thankful to see he had regained control over his feelings.

“Is this the part where you tell me what a monster I am?” Spike said sullenly as he furrowed his brows.

“What? No.” Buffy shook her head and frowned at him, showing him how appalled she was by what he’d said. “You didn’t know…you just wanted to help the person you loved…like I did. You’re not a monster, Spike…well…I mean technically you are, but you aren’t…”

“I’m not?” Spike looked confused.

Buffy dropped her gaze to rest on her knees as she mumbled. “At least not in my eyes.”

Spike’s lips curled into a slight smile on hearing her.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, her eyes still downcast.

“For what?”

“Being here…showing me there’s still hope, and for not thinking I’m weak for letting this get the better of me…” She tentatively eased her eyes back up to meet his.

Spike bit his lip and let his smile grow wider. “Same here.”

It took Buffy a moment to get what he was saying. He was thanking her for being with him, for giving him hope?

Hope about what?

Her mind raced back to the alley and the potential kiss that she’d killed.

“Oh.” Her flushed cheeks felt even hotter as she remembered the look of ardent passion in his eyes and the way he’d grabbed hold of her and tried to drive his point home. Her whole body heated through with the memory and she wished she hadn’t stopped him. “Spike…”

“Buffy?” Spike’s voice was low as he met her eyes and saw the spark of fire in them.

In one slow graceful movement, she leaned towards him and brushed her lips against his. A sweep of tingles wound through her body as she closed her eyes and his lips began to move against hers. Letting her tongue play against his lower lip, she breathed in deeply through her nose as his hands clamped around her arms and held her steady. She smiled inside over how unwilling he was to let her escape now that she was giving into to him.

And she was.

Giving in to him.

Surrendering to her feelings.

Weirdly, it felt right to have his hands on her body, his lips playing gently against hers with earnest desire. She pulled back and blushed over seeing so much affection in his eyes as they locked with hers.

Spike smiled.

Buffy found her lips mirroring his move and she couldn’t miss how her heart swelled and warmth spread through her over admitting to her feelings for him.

If Spike was a fool for love.

Then so was she.

~*~ End ~*~

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