Fix You by Enigmaticblue

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Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures where the First is involved. In order to prevent the end of the world, Buffy asks Willow to do a spell that's supposed to fix everything, and Spike goes along for the ride.

Rating: PG-13


Chapter 11: Rekindle the Fire

Buffy had forgotten to warn Xander about the hole in the ground, which she regretted as soon as he disappeared from view.

"Where did Xander go?" Anya said, a note of panic in her voice. "He was supposed to be the one digging. No one told me that the digging had been done for him."

"He's going to be fine," Buffy assured her. "They'll pull him out in a minute.

It was odd, how much her feelings towards Anya had changed. She had been just as annoyed as Willow when Xander had first begun dating her, but Buffy couldn't help but remember Anya's face after the wedding-that-wasn't.

It was another one of those things she hoped that she could change, although after the way things had turned out with Oz, Buffy wasn't holding her breath.

"Are you really doing Thanksgiving at Giles' place?" Willow asked, her eyes on the men as they pulled Xander out of the hole. "It doesn't seem right, celebrating the destruction of indigenous peoples."

Buffy hid a smile. "That's what you said the first time. And, yes, I'm celebrating Thanksgiving. It's—it's important to me. The turkey, the pie—it was always one of my favorite holidays as a kid, and I don't want to skip it this year."

Anya nodded her agreement. "I love a good ritual sacrifice. Especially if there's pie."

"Ritual sacrifice?" Willow asked.

"Yes, the killing and eating of an animal to commemorate a past event," Anya explained. "It's a ritual sacrifice. With pie."

Willow made a face. "Which makes my point for me."

"It's turkey and mashed potatoes, Will," Buffy coaxed. "And yams. You gotta love the yams."

Willow sighed. "I guess I could be persuaded."

"Good." Buffy smiled. "Now, I've got to go hunt up Spike so we can prevent Professor Gerhardt from being brutally murdered tonight."

Willow's eyes widened. "That sounds like fun."

Buffy grinned. "It's with Spike, so it probably will be. Besides, I'm spending the night at his place tonight."

Anya gave her a long, considering look. "I think you will be quite satisfied. Vampires have quite a bit of stamina."

"Don't I know it," Buffy replied, with a nostalgic smile.

~~~~~

Spike looked around his apartment distractedly. He didn't have much to straighten up, although he felt the need to do something. He'd already cleaned, though, and washed his sheets.

He looked down at the new black jeans and blue shirt he was wearing. Should he change? Buffy had mentioned the fact that he needed new clothes, but the last time he'd dressed to impress, it had been disastrous.

Taking an unnecessary breath to steady himself, Spike deliberately plopped down on the overstuffed couch and turned the television on. If he thought about the fact that Buffy was actually spending the weekend with him—with everyone knowing about it—he'd probably go crazy.

The knock on the door came no sooner than he'd settled on some old war movie that involved a lot of explosions and not nearly enough blood. "'s open!" he called.

Buffy stepped through the door. "Ready to go? I want to make sure we're there before Hus is."

"Sure." Spike turned the TV off and grabbed his jacket.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are those new jeans?"

Spike hadn't thought she'd notice, or care. He shrugged. "Yeah. You said I needed some new stuff, an' I have the dosh."

"Maybe we should go shopping this weekend," Buffy teased. "You know they always have the best sales after Thanksgiving."

Spike winced. He'd heard plenty about that from Harmony—whom he thankfully hadn't seen since he'd found the ring. "No thanks."

"Oh, come on," she coaxed, grinning. "It would be fun!"

"Don't think so," he replied firmly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I've got what I need."

Buffy laughed delightedly, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "I'm giving you a hard time, Spike. You should see the panic on your face when I say 'shopping.'"

A reluctant smile broke out on his face. "Yeah, well, you shouldn't say those sorts of things to a bloke. Everybody knows that the day after Thanksgiving is the worst."

She smiled smugly. "Don't worry, Big Bad, I've got completely different plans for you after we do the ritual sacrifice."

"Do tell."

"That would spoil the surprise."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Do I wanna be surprised?"

Buffy looked up at him, smiling as though she knew a particularly delicious secret. "I don't think you want to miss it."

Spike had a feeling that she was right.

~~~~~

Buffy knocked, hoping that the professor wouldn't ignore them. It was getting late, but from what she recalled, Hus wouldn't be there quite yet.

The door opened slightly, and Professor Gerhardt frowned at her. "Can I help you?"

Her mind went blank. After years of lying to authority figures, Buffy suddenly couldn't think of a plausible excuse to be there.

"We're here from the school paper," Spike said smoothly, his accent more polished than it usually was. "The editor wanted us to get your reaction to today's discovery before you left town for the holidays."

The professor didn't appear to be completely convinced, but Buffy was quick to follow it up with, "It would just take a few moments. You have to be excited about the possibilities."

Professor Gerhardt's face softened considerably. "I am," she admitted. "Come in. I was just getting ready to leave, but I suppose I have a few minutes."

"If you were getting ready to leave, why don't you let us walk you to your car?" Spike asked with a smile.

Buffy knew that smile. She had personal experience with how difficult it was to say no to Spike when he looked at her like that.

Professor Gerhardt was apparently just as susceptible. "Thank you. I would appreciate that." She frowned. "Didn't you bring something to write on?"

Before Buffy could come up with a plausible explanation for why two journalism majors wouldn't have a pad and pen—or a tape recorder—she saw a green mist begin to form near the glass cases. "Spike!"

"I see it," he replied, glancing at the professor. "Get behind the desk."

Something about his tone carried enough authority to have her scrambling for cover, and Buffy dashed to the case with the knives, knowing that only Hus' weapon could kill him.

The spirit formed fully, and he stared at her, obviously a little surprised that he was seeing her and not someone else. "Sorry," Buffy said. "But you don't get to ruin my Thanksgiving this time around."

Hus didn't even have to break the glass; his hand passed right through, pulling out a knife. Buffy ducked the arc of the blade as he went for her throat. "Spike! Any time now!"

Buffy tried to sweep Hus' legs out from under him, but he jumped back, out of the way. She heard the crash of broken glass, and Buffy scrambled to her feet just as Spike engaged the spirit with a knife of his own.

She was reaching for a weapon when she heard a cry from Hus, closely followed by a surprised yelp from Spike. Buffy turned to see a bear standing where Hus had been. "Spike! You made a bear!"

"'m sorry!" he shouted. "I didn't—" Spike ducked under the claws and plunged his knife into the bear's chest. Just as had happened previously, the bear disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. "—mean to," he finished.

"No harm, no foul," Buffy said, sighing in relief. The relief was closely followed by a sense of triumph as she realized that she'd successfully prevented the deaths of two people.

"What was that?" Professor Gerhardt asked.

Buffy gave Spike a panicked look. "Um..."

Where was a gang on PCP when you needed one?

~~~~~

It took them a while to convince the professor that everything was fine. Spike had finally spun some tale of eco-terrorists out to destroy her recent finding, and she had bought it. How the woman explained away the green mist was beyond Spike, but he'd long since given up trying to figure out how the citizens of Sunnydale ignored the strange goings-on.

Of course, the fact that they'd nipped that problem in the bud meant that they had nothing to do for the rest of the night.

"So, uh, what now?" Spike asked.

Buffy looked a little embarrassed. "I don't know. We could go by my place and pick up my things for this weekend."

"Yeah, sure." Spike turned to walk towards her dorm with her. The night was clear and cool, the stars appearing overhead.

Buffy glanced up at him, then away. "Did Mom get off okay?"

Spike had agreed to take Joyce to the airport to help her avoid the cost of leaving her car at the lot. "Yeah. Didn't seem like she was happy to be leavin' you over the holidays, but knowin' you had plans made it easier."

"Good." There was an uncomfortable pause, then Buffy rolled her eyes. "This is stupid," she announced.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "What's stupid?"

"We are." She stopped. "Are you ready for this?"

Spike knew what she was referring to immediately. They'd taken the physical aspect of their relationship slow this time; Buffy hadn't spent the night, much less the weekend yet. "Are you?" he countered. "It's your call to make, pet."

"No, it's not," she said stubbornly. "We're both in this together. I think I've made my intentions clear. I'm asking if you're okay with this."

"'Course I am," Spike replied. "I told you that I always want you."

Buffy looked him straight in the eyes. "The feeling is mutual."

Spike had been cautious about making the first move; he hadn't wanted to overstep his bounds again. He could see the emotion in her eyes that said she wanted him—and not just to make herself feel. Spike captured her mouth with his, keeping his touch light until he felt her pulling him closer, pulling him deeper.

Buffy's hands gripped his shoulders, and he could feel her strength. She wasn't using him this time; there was no desperation in the way she held him. They were both standing on solid ground.

He lost himself in her touch, in her taste. Spike could smell her shampoo, her sweat, the lingering scent of the lotion she'd used that morning. His hand cupped her face; he reveled at the opportunity to be tender with her.

When Buffy finally broke off the kiss to breathe, she looked up at him with dazed eyes. "Okay. We have two choices. My place or yours."

Spike grinned. "My bed is bigger."

"Yours, then," Buffy agreed. "I'll get my stuff tomorrow."

~~~~~

It was wildly different, Buffy realized, and in a sense incredibly strange, to walk into Spike's apartment and wait as he locked the door behind them. To blink at the sudden change when he turned on the overhead light. To look around a living room that looked like any other bachelor's pad, with its overstuffed furniture, television, and bare walls. The place needed a woman's touch, and she realized with a start that she could probably provide it.

They could decorate this place together. The very thought brought unexpected tears to her eyes.

"Buffy?"

Spike looked at her with desire tamped down by concern. "What?"

"You're cryin'," he observed. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," Buffy said quickly. "It's just—did you really give up on the idea of a crypt for two? Or, not a crypt, but..." She waved a hand at the apartment. "This?"

Spike's eyes widened a fraction, taking in her meaning. Buffy could see the hope she'd kindled, then the pure joy. He almost glowed with it, and then Spike took two strides across the room and was there, kissing her, desperately.

Buffy could feel his strength, the hunger that he'd been holding back. She realized how close he'd been to giving up—on her, on living, on everything. She twined her arms around him, ran her hands through the curls at the nape of his neck, spared a moment to wonder who cut his hair.

She didn't know where he got his hair cut, or who bleached it, or if he did it all himself, and she wanted to. Buffy suddenly wanted to know everything.

Spike steered them around the couch, towards the bedroom. "Wanna try it in a bed this time, Buffy?" he managed to gasp between kisses.

"Sure." Buffy pushed his jacket off his shoulders and felt, rather than saw, him give his arms a shake to leave it on the floor. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. "You have too many clothes."

"Look who's talkin'." Spike pulled back to finish unbuttoning his shirt, then pulled his t-shirt off. "And now you've got some catchin' up to do."

Buffy heard the teasing note in his voice, and she was glad. This felt different. More real, somehow. She felt like a woman with her lover, not a girl with her boyfriend. She kicked off her boots and then began unbuttoning her own shirt—slowly, teasingly.

Spike stood stock still, watching her, his alabaster skin gleaming in the light from the living room. He'd removed his boots, and his jeans half-hung on his slim hips.

Buffy felt a rush of purely feminine power as she unbuttoned her shirt with one hand, holding it closed with the other. He was still watching her, and she released it, letting the fabric drift to the floor.

Spike watched with the same hungry expression as she unbuttoned her pants, then slid them ever-so-slowly down her legs. She smiled and approached him, sliding a hand up, over his cool skin, then down to the waist of his jeans. "What are we waiting for?"

"I have no bloody clue," he whispered, sounding almost reverent.

They worshipped one another; there was no other word for it. Buffy felt the difference. She didn't think they had ever made love before this night, although she'd known that Spike had wanted to, had wanted to shower her with tenderness.

Tonight, she allowed him to be gentle with her, and then she turned the tables on him, using all the tricks he'd taught her to make him gasp for air he didn't need.

Buffy's intentions were to ensure that Spike never doubted her feelings for him again. And she was very good at achieving her goals.

~~~~~

Giles was still unsure how he'd wound up hosting Thanksgiving dinner. He suspected that Buffy planned to cook and leave the clean up to him. Although he didn't have her need for Thanksgiving dinner, he did understand that it was important to her. Giles also knew that something had happened, that he'd made choices that had hurt her.

He wanted this second chance as much as she did, even though he hadn't experienced what was to come.

"Spike, can you peel the potatoes?" Buffy said, sounding just a little frantic. "I think they're supposed to be boiling. How is the turkey?"

"The turkey is fine," Spike soothed. "An' I've got the potatoes under control."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. Peas. We're supposed to have fresh peas. Wasn't Willow supposed to be getting the peas?"

As if her words had summoned her, Willow breezed through the door, two boxes of frozen peas in her hands. "They didn't have fresh peas, Buffy."

Buffy frowned. "They're supposed to be fresh."

"I'm sure that frozen will be fine," Giles said. "I could never tell the difference."

"I guess it'll do."

"Did you really kill off the Native American spirit?" Willow asked. "I thought you were going to think about it. They had a good reason for being angry."

"Sure they did, Will, but they were going to kill two people and give Xander syphilis. I thought that was more important than making them happy." Buffy gave her friend a pointed look. "And he wasn't going to be made happy. I've done this before, remember?"

Willow made a face. "Yeah, I guess."

Giles heard Spike snort, although the vampire didn't look up from the potatoes he was diligently peeling. He sensed that something had changed between Spike and Buffy in the last couple of days. While they had been close since the spell, Giles didn't think they had ever been as easy with one another. Spike, in particular, seemed more relaxed.

He was trying not to think about what exactly had changed.

"Do you have brandy?" Buffy asked. "I need it for the plum pudding."

Giles nodded, resigned to the fact that he was going to have no peace until they'd had dinner, and it was perfect. "On the bottom shelf."

"And where's Xander and Anya?" Buffy asked. "They were supposed to bring the rolls."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "Anya can bake?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "At least I think so."

Willow pouted. "I don't see why Xander had to bring Anya anyway."

"She's his girlfriend, Willow," Buffy replied patiently. "Anya will be here for the same reason that Spike's here."

Willow sighed. "But I like Spike."

From Giles station near the kitchen, he could see the vampire freeze and then begin to slice potatoes again. "Did Angel show up yet?" Buffy asked, beginning to measure various ingredients into a bowl.

Spike turned around. "Angel?"

"You knew he was going to come," Buffy said patiently.

Spike looked decidedly put out. "You never said anything."

"You were here when Xander spilled the beans the last time," Buffy reminded him.

He frowned. "When was that?"

"When we were eating dinner," Buffy said.

Spike looked a little sheepish. "Right."

"So, Angel?" Buffy asked, turning back to Giles.

"He showed up yesterday, as you said he would," Giles replied. "I sent him on his way."

Buffy paused in her whisking. "What did you say?"

"I said that we had already taken care of the menace and that he wasn't needed." Giles shrugged. "He argued for a bit, but he left."

Buffy made a face. "Let's hope so. Because explaining what happened is not on my top ten list of things I want to do."

"Do you think he'd try to hurt Spike?" Giles asked.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know."

"Wouldn't matter," Spike insisted. "I could take him."

"Yes, you could, but not without getting hurt," Buffy replied. "I like you unbruised."

As they shared a kiss, Giles looked away, wondering if Buffy had left him any brandy.

Xander came through the door just then, Anya right behind him. "Whoa," he exclaimed. "Buffy!"

"Don't, Xander," she warned him, breaking off her kiss with Spike. "We're dating; deal with it."

He opened his mouth to say something, and Anya elbowed him in the side. "Don't. I like Spike."

Spike smirked. "Yeah, Harris. Let's not start."

Xander closed his eyes and groaned. "Why does it have to be another vampire?"

"It's not another vampire," Buffy replied. "It's Spike. Did you bring the rolls?"

"I did," Anya said, holding a plastic bag full of rolls. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Buffy nodded. "Help me baste the turkey?"

As the girls went to work in the kitchen, Giles sat down on his couch with a glass of brandy. Xander sat down next to him. "Can't you talk some sense into her?" he asked.

Giles glanced over, watching Spike as he leaned against the wall next to the kitchen. The vampire said something that made Buffy laugh, and Giles realized that he hadn't heard her sound quite that happy in a very long time.

"I don't think that's necessary, Xander," Giles replied. Why would he try to talk Buffy into ending a relationship that was obviously so good for her?

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