Disclaimer: We all know the truth. None of these characters are mine, and if I were making money off of them, I could quit my job and go write on a beach somewhere.
Chapter 3: Finding the Door
Author's Notes: Wherein Spike lets his jealousy get the best of him, and Buffy has to make a tough decision. (Also, this story is complete at 10 chapters, FYI. But I'll still be posting on Sundays.)
“I really want you to really want me/But I really don't know if you can do that/I know you want to know what's right/But I know it's so hard for you to do that/And time's running out as often it does/And often dictates that you can't do that/But fate can't break this feeling inside/That's burning up through my veins/I really want you…No matter what I say or do/The message isn't getting through/And you're listening to the sound/Of my breaking heart.” ~James Blunt, “I Really Want You”
Wesley stood up as Buffy and Spike came through the front door, both of them covered with some kind of sticky, brown substance. “What happened?”
“Big, ugly demon,” Buffy explained. “Unfortunately, it didn’t come with a warning label.”
He frowned. “What did it look like? There are some demons whose blood is corrosive, or can have other negative effects.”
Buffy and Spike both looked alarmed. “I didn’t get a good look at it,” Buffy admitted.
“Greenish skin, brown spots,” Spike said. “Teeth were pointed, although it looked like it had a few missing. Think it had a tail.”
Wesley searched his memory for demons that description might apply to, but there were none coming to mind. “I’d have to do research,” he admitted. “My best advice would be to get it off as quickly as possible.”
They looked at one another again, and Wesley could see the wheels in their heads turning. “Ladies first,” Spike said.
Buffy blushed. “Thanks. And don’t sit on the couch.”
Spike gave her retreating form a look that was half bemused, half annoyed. “Like I would!” he called out. He patted his pockets as though looking for something, then abruptly stopped. “Bloody hell.”
“Something wrong?”
“Can’t smoke inside,” Spike replied. “Where’s the Nibblet?”
“She went upstairs to her room.” He watched as the vampire gingerly removed his coat, which had taken most of the slime. Spike put it down in the hallway, then took a seat on the chair.
At his raised eyebrow, Spike shrugged. “She said not to sit on the couch. Didn’t say anythin’ about the chair.”
“Good point.”
The silence held, and Wesley wondered if Buffy had told him about what Lorne had said. It seemed like a lifetime ago now; everything was so different.
“Why did you come here?”
Wesley was startled by the question; he thought the answer would be obvious. “I needed help getting Connor back.”
“You could have gone to your mates,” Spike pointed out ruthlessly. “They would have helped.”
“Angel—”
Spike waved a hand dismissively. “Peaches tried to kill me half a dozen times, an’ he had a fair shot at least once. He might have tried, but he would have done it if he’d really wanted to.”
“He’s not going to forgive me.”
“Probably not. He never did know how to let go of a grudge.” Spike’s gaze was piercing. “Well? Why’d you come?”
What Wesley hadn’t mentioned were his feelings for Fred, and how he’d come to be so isolated in the first place. Nor had he mentioned what she’d said to him at the hospital, rubbing salt in the wounds already left.
He’d tried, and they hadn’t seen it. Or maybe they just hadn’t cared.
“They weren’t going to listen to me, and Willow is the most powerful witch I know in the vicinity. At least, she’s the most powerful one that I trust.” It was as close to the truth as Wesley was willing to get.
Spike shook his head. “It’s always a girl, isn’t it?”
“What?”
The vampire raised an eyebrow, as though he were being deliberately obtuse. “Come on. It’s gotta be a girl, some bint who done you wrong.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wesley said stiffly.
Spike smirked. “Sure you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”
“Admit what?” Buffy asked from the doorway, her hair wet, and wearing flannel pajamas covered with rabbits.
Wesley scowled. He didn’t want to rehash this with anyone; it was too painful still. “Nothing.”
Spike rose. “I’ll just get cleaned up.”
“I put your clean clothes on the sink,” Buffy said.
“Thanks.”
When he’d gone, Wesley turned to the Slayer, blurting out the first thing that came to mind in order to change the subject. “Why are his clothes here?”
Buffy frowned, clearly not thinking that it was any of his business, but she answered readily enough. “This isn’t the first time a demon has exploded on us. The nerds sent a couple of doozies, and Spike took the brunt of it. Since he doesn’t have a real shower, I let him use mine, and he left his dirty clothes here.”
“I see.” Wesley wondered if she knew that Spike was in love with her; a blind man could see it. “I just—I wasn’t sure if your relationship—well, I didn’t want to somehow put my foot in it.”
She laughed, as though the very idea amused her, but Wesley noted that it sounded forced. When she replied, Buffy’s voice was thoughtful. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Right.”
Buffy sat down next to him on the couch. “What about you? I know you said you were dating that one girl—Virginia? Are you guys still together?”
“No.” Wesley wondered how deep he really wanted to delve into his love life with Buffy, but reflected that it couldn’t be much worse than hers. “She didn’t care for the danger inherent in my profession, and I refused to quit.”
“Makes sense,” she said, sounding sympathetic. “On both sides, I mean. No one since that, huh?”
“No. Except for Fred, but she’s with Gunn now.”
She put a hand on his arm in a wordless gesture of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’d wondered from what you’d said this past fall, but… I didn’t hear from you again, and we were busy with the nerds, so I thought—”
“It’s fine,” Wesley said quietly, suddenly feeling the need to explain. He couldn’t do it in front of Spike, but he thought that Buffy might understand. “She came to the hospital after Angel tried to kill me. I thought she’d come to visit, that perhaps she realized what I was trying to do, but she came to tell me not to go back to the hotel.”
“Oh. Ouch.”
“Something like that.”
“What will you do after we find Connor?”
“You sound certain that we will,” Wesley observed. His own faith was not quite as sure.
She shrugged. “I
am the Slayer. This is what I do.”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose it will depend on Angel’s reaction.”
“If you wanted to stay, you could,” she began. “We can always use another book guy.”
Wesley was about to thank her for her offer when Spike came into the room, carrying his soiled clothing under one arm. He froze in the doorway upon seeing them, Buffy’s hand still on his arm. “Think I’ll go home now.”
Anyone would have been able to see the jealousy mingled with despair in his eyes, and Wesley didn’t think that Buffy was that blind. “Spike—”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Wait!” She looked at Wesley. “I—”
“I think I’m going to bed,” he said delicately. “I’m rather tired.”
Spike was out the front door before he got the words out, and Wesley watched as Buffy rushed after him, not caring about what she was wearing, or that her hair was wet, or even that her feet were bare. If Wesley had been able to drum up any emotion at all, he might have spared some disapproval for the incipient relationship.
He knew that he was living in a glass house, however, and he also knew that Buffy appeared to be happy. Buffy had spared him judgment, and he would do the same for her.
Besides, Wesley had worked for a vampire in the past. He didn’t think that sleeping with one was any worse.
~~~~~
“Spike, stop!”
He kept going, having no desire to hear her explanations for why she was so cozy with the ex-Watcher. Buffy might say they were just friends, but it hadn’t looked that way to him.
“Spike!” Her hand closed around his upper arm, and she physically turned him. “What is your problem?”
“Don’t have a problem,” he shot back. “I just thought it was time for me to leave.”
She rolled her eyes impatiently. “Oh, come on. You left because you’re jealous.”
It was out there now, and Spike was surprised that she’d addressed it. His feelings were a poorly kept secret, something neither of them had been willing to acknowledge up until now.
Buffy’s expression was defiant, and it was clear that she had no intention of backing down from her accusation. “Yeah, what if I was?” Spike challenged her. “You know how I feel.”
“I do.”
He deflated slightly. “And how do you feel?”
“I care about you—a lot.” She looked away uncomfortably. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to take this anywhere.”
“Is that why you’re movin’ on with the Watcher?”
“Ugh!” It was a sound a pure frustration. “Wesley’s in love with someone else, Spike! We’re friends!” She glared at him. “I’m allowed to have other male friends, you know.”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t,” he muttered, knowing that he’d made an arse of himself. “Just—you looked pretty cozy.”
“He’s going through a rough time.” She took a deep breath. “Look, Spike, let’s just find this kid, then we can figure out what to do about this.”
“What ‘this?’” he asked suspiciously.
She pointed at the two of them. “This. Us. Whatever.”
“You promise?”
Buffy raised her hand, as though swearing a solemn oath. “I swear that when all this is over, we will have that conversation.”
Spike knew he had to be satisfied with that; it was more than he thought he’d get. “Right.” He looked down at her bare feet. “You’d probably better get inside.”
“Yeah.” She turned to go, then paused. “Spike?”
“What?”
“We’re friends, right?”
Spike couldn’t quite believe that she’d admitted to that much out loud. “’Course we are.”
“That’s why. If it gets complicated, you know.”
He knew what she meant, and it gave him hope. “It always gets complicated, luv,” he said gently.
“I know.” She smiled a little wistfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Sure thing.” Spike watched as she walked up the walk, back inside the house, and his heart was a little lighter when he began his own journey home.
~~~~~
Tara shifted the armful of books, trying to brace the stack against the wall while she opened the door with her free hand. “Here.” A hand came out of nowhere and pulled the door open, and Wesley grabbed the top few books from the stack.
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly. “I thought these might help.”
“I appreciate it,” Wesley said quietly. “Time is of the essence.”
“My mom left me a bunch of books,” she explained. “I don’t know if there’s anything in there because it’s mostly white magic, and opening portals can take dark magic, but maybe—”
He smiled. “I’m willing to try anything at this point, to be honest, although I wouldn’t ask anyone to make a sacrifice like that.”
“You’ll make it yourself?” Tara asked, catching the look in his eye.
Wesley shrugged. “If it comes to that, yes.”
She set her books down on the table. “Where are Spike and Buffy?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t seen Spike since last night, and Buffy said something about classes and training. I got the impression that she’s not much for research.”
“She isn’t,” Tara agreed. “She’ll try, but it’s not really her thing.” She looked over at Anya, who appeared to be busy with paperwork. Tara knew that the ex-demon had been working a lot more since Giles had gone back to England; she certainly had a lot less time to devote to helping out the group, unless it was after-hours.
Wesley sat down at the table, pulling one of the books towards him. “I’m grateful that Buffy’s willing to do as much as she is. She could have refused.”
“That’s not what she does,” Tara replied. “She’s the Slayer.”
“Yes.” He opened the book and began skimming the pages quickly.
Tara frowned. “What about the one you took back with you last night? I thought that had a lead.”
Wesley shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It kept talking about the Key, although it wasn’t specific. Something about the Key to all dimensions, but I certainly don’t have time—” He stopped, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “Bloody hell. I can’t believe I missed that. It’s talking about Dawn.”
She flipped through the book impatiently. “Where’s the reference?”
He leaned over her shoulder, quickly finding the page. “The text is clear that the Key is an energy source, however.”
“Dawn was an energy source,” Tara explained absent-mindedly. “That was what Glory was after.”
“I see,” Wesley breathed. “Buffy told me about her, but she didn’t tell me that Glory was going to use her to actually open doors. When Dawn told me she was the Key, I thought that was done, but now—”
Tara gave him a reassuring smile. “I think we all tend to forget that Dawn wasn’t always Buffy’s little sister.” She remembered how close they’d all been then, fighting the Hellgod and protecting Dawn. That had mattered more than anything else. “Once Glory was dead, we all thought that Dawn was, you know, human.”
“I see.” Wesley sat down. “Somehow, I don’t see Buffy allowing us to use Dawn in a spell.”
“We might not need Dawn,” Tara replied, deciphering the Latin with some trouble. “We might just need a little of her blood. That’s what Glory wanted. The only problem would be closing the portal.”
“How were you supposed to close the portal if Glory had managed to get what she wanted?” Wesley asked.
Tara shook her head. “Dawn would have been killed. Spike was the one who stopped the ritual.”
“I see.”
Tara thought he probably did; Wesley noticed a lot. “Here. It talks about using the energy from the Key and feeding it through a focus. We’d have to find some way to contain the power, though. It could get very bad, otherwise.”
“How long would we be able to keep the portal open?” Wesley asked. “It would have to be long enough to find Connor.”
Tara shook her head. “I think we’d have to find some way to combine the two spells, so that the portal opens up where he is.”
“Is that even possible?” Wesley asked.
She frowned. “Maybe. One of my mom’s books talks about doing two spells at once. I might be able to do one spell while you do the other.”
“What about Willow?”
Tara sighed. “Willow’s trying to steer clear of the magic right now. She could do it, but—”
“It would be better if it were someone else?” Wesley suggested.
“Something like that.” Tara met his eyes. “If we need her, though, she’ll do it. Willow knows what she’s doing.”
“Except when she’s trying to kill someone?” Wesley asked.
Tara shook her head. “No, she knew what she was doing there, too. That’s why we broke up.”
“Ah.”
She sighed. “Has Buffy told you what the nerds did?”
Wesley shook his head. “She said that they sent a few demons after her, but no more than that.”
“One of the demons almost killed me,” Tara admitted. She rolled up her sleeve to show him the scars, hearing his sharply indrawn breath; she tended to wear long sleeves these days. “If Spike and Buffy hadn’t found me in time, I probably would have bled to death.”
“Willow wanted revenge,” Wesley said quietly.
Tara nodded. “She almost got it, but her trap caught Buffy, because she didn’t tell anybody what she was doing. Things got pretty bad after that.”
It was a deliberate understatement. Words couldn’t adequately capture just how awful those days were. Willow had attempted to kill three people, and while Tara understood why, she had believed that her girlfriend was out of control. When she’d set off the sunlight spell near Spike one night while she’d been out on patrol with Buffy, the Slayer had begun to agree that her friend needed help.
For now, Willow was avoiding using magic, except for emergencies, and no one had missed the fact that Buffy wasn’t inviting Willow along on patrol anymore. Tara didn’t know when—or if—things would ever be the same again.
“What happened to the nerds?” Wesley asked quietly.
Tara smiled. “Buffy called the cops on them. They had stolen a diamond, and there was a lot of evidence that they were planning several armed robberies.”
“Did that satisfy Willow?”
“No.” Tara desperately wanted to change the subject; she was trying to move on, even though it was hard to do when she was constantly running into her ex-girlfriend. “Here.” She tapped the book. “I think this is where we’re going to have to start.”
“Buffy’s not going to be happy,” Wesley observed.
Tara didn’t disagree.
~~~~~
“Absolutely not,” Buffy said flatly. “You’re not using my sister to open a portal. We’ve been through this before.”
“It’s not the same, Buffy,” Tara said. “This would be controlled. Glory had to spill Dawn’s blood at a certain time and place; the same circumstances won’t be around again for centuries.”
Buffy shook her head adamantly. “No. I’m sorry, Wes, but this is my sister. It’s too dangerous.”
“What’s too dangerous for your sister?” Dawn asked, coming through the front door of the shop.
Buffy glared at her. Dawn had the worst timing. “Nothing.”
The younger girl scowled. “Come on, Buffy. If I can help, I want to.”
“I said no,” Buffy repeated. “There’s no way. We don’t know what could happen. If the spell goes wrong, we could end up where we were last spring.”
Dawn sat down at the table. “What’s going on?”
Wesley shifted. “It’s an idea that we presented to Buffy. She’s not in favor.”
“Buffy likes to pretend that we don’t live on a Hellmouth, and that I’m not in danger every time I leave the house,” Dawn said with an edge of sarcasm. “On the other hand, we’ve had demons crash through our front door
and our front window, so I’m not really safe there either.”
“Dawnie—” Buffy had no idea how she was supposed to convince her sister that she wasn’t trying to ruin her life by protecting her. The spell that Tara and Wesley had found seemed all too similar to what Glory had wanted to do on top of that tower.
And the only reason that had turned out okay was because Spike was so damn stubborn.
“No.” Dawn set her chin stubbornly. “Look, Buffy, you’d already died once by the time you were my age, and look at you now. If I can help, I want to.”
Buffy took a deep breath, knowing that Dawn had a point. If the spell could be done safely, with no risk to her or the world at large, then it might be an avenue worth pursuing. “Okay. If—and I do mean
if—I even consider this, I have to know that it won’t hurt her, and that I won’t have to worry about all the dimensions bleeding into this one.”
“I can’t make any promises, Buffy,” Tara said honestly. “There’s always some risk, but I think we can do a few things to make it safer.”
“Safer is good,” Buffy acknowledged. “What about our other options?”
“The other alternatives take dark magic that’s likely to have a deleterious effect,” Wesley said.
Buffy frowned. “Huh?”
“He means that it’s going to have unpleasant consequences,” Tara translated. “Any of this could. In fact, it could be that Dawn’s blood no longer has any kind of magical properties, and the spell will fizzle.”
“But it could work,” Dawn said. “I could still be the Key.”
“We don’t know that,” Buffy insisted. If her sister was still the Key, she was still in danger—more than she was just by virtue of being the Slayer’s sister.
Dawn glared at her. “Buffy—”
Tara broke in. “There might be something we can do to test the theory that won’t harm Dawn, and could save us time.”
“What’s that?” Buffy asked.
“It’s a simple spell,” Wesley explained. “It’s used to reveal whether or not something has magical properties.”
Buffy nodded. “Good. We’ll do that first.” She refused to meet Dawn’s eyes, knowing that the younger girl was probably angry at her for her caution. All Dawn could see was that she was being overprotective, but Buffy wasn’t about to lose another member of her family.
If she hadn’t been prepared to sacrifice Dawn’s life to save the world, there was no way she was going to trade her sister for Angel’s son. Maybe it was selfish, but Buffy wasn’t about to compromise.