Buffy woke up slowly. There was a warm body snuggled close against her, their legs entwined together. She felt relaxed, comfortable, even satisfied; except for a nagging headache behind her eyes and a queasy churning in her stomach. How much had she had to drink last night? “Spike,” she murmured sleepily, and opened her eyes. Blonde hair met her gaze. Hang on, blonde hair? Spike’s was brown now. And what was her thigh pressed up against? It was between her bed mate’s legs; there was something she should be feeling, and it wasn’t there. And what was that pressing softly against her breasts? And, for that matter, what was pressing softly against her back?
The blonde hair in front of her was long. “Harmony?” she said incredulously.
“Yeah? Morning, Buffy,” came a voice from behind her. “Wow, that was intense. I always said if I had a threesome it would have to be boy, boy, girl, ‘cept maybe with Charlize Theron, but wow. Hey, I ate a Slayer! Sorta, anyway.”
“And an ex Vengeance Demon,” the figure in front of Buffy added. “Hey, Buffy, that thing you did with your nipple! Fantastic. I had a really satisfying orgasm. Where on Earth did you learn to do that?”
“Anya?” Buffy gasped. And the memories came flooding back.
It had been a weird and uncomfortable few days. Back at College. Familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time; she’d had to accept that she had effectively missed a year. There was too much to catch up, too little time, and so she was picking up shortly before the point at which she’d fled from Glory. Her friends would graduate a year ahead of her now, and her path hardly crossed with Willow or Tara. She actually saw more of Spike during College hours; he was doing an Orientation course and seemed to be everywhere. He was distant, treated her almost as nothing more than an acquaintance, and didn’t even take the opportunity to sit with her in the cafeteria when it presented itself. The next day she’d seen him at a table and approached, but lost her nerve and veered aside when she saw the look in his eyes.
Outside College she saw him only when he needed to consult with her about arrangements for Anya’s bachelorette party, and when he met her whilst spending time with Dawn. When she asked the others about Spike she discovered that he was spending his time partly with Giles, partly with Xander and with Richard, with whom Spike seemed to have struck up a friendship much to her surprise, and partly with another girl.
She’d found out about Tarantula through Anya. Xander had known, but had said nothing. Anya blurted it out during a conversation about seating arrangements at the rehearsal dinner. Spike was seeing another girl and was going to be bringing her to the wedding. It had felt like a stake through the heart. She’d sat with a fake smile frozen on her face, hardly hearing anything during the rest of the conversation. The worst part had come later, when she’d turned to Willow for comfort.
“I didn’t make the wish so that some other girl could come out of nowhere and get the benefit,” Buffy complained, and then realised what she’d let slip. She could almost feel the temperature dropping.
“You made a wish,” Willow said in an oddly flat voice. “All this mystery about how come William’s suddenly human, and it was you. Giles knows, I guess, ‘cause he’s lost interest in researching it, and he’s been giving you this disapproving look now and again, but you didn’t tell me.”
For a moment Buffy thought it was okay. Willow was annoyed only because Buffy hadn’t shared the secret with her best friend; easy enough to apologise and get it over with. But then Willow took a deep breath and her expression changed.
“How could you?” the witch said accusingly. “After what I did to you all, so wrong, and you go and do the same thing? You changed Spike to suit yourself. You treated him like some kind of toy. I mean, the turning him human thing, it was crazy, and wrong, but I can sorta understand. But the rest – it’s like what I did to Tara. Worse. You didn’t give him any say in anything. I mean, Buffy, if you didn’t like him smoking why didn’t you just ask him to quit? Think he wouldn’t have done it for you? Think he wouldn’t have stopped bleaching his hair if you’d just asked him, instead of forcing it on him like dressing up a Ken doll?”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Buffy said defensively. “I know I did a bad thing.”
Willow gave her a hard stare. “You’re not sorry. You’re just upset because he’s gone off you and you’re not getting the benefits of all those goodies you showered on him just so that he could shower them back on you. You can’t fool me. Been there, seen it, done it, got the T-shirt. When I wiped out our fight from Tara’s mind, and she found out, I wasn’t sorry because I’d done a bad thing, I was only sorry because she hated what I’d done to her and it made the fight even worse. It took a long, hard, painful time before I really learned to be sorry. You saw me go through it all, and you still did pretty much the same thing. How could you be so stupid?”
Buffy lowered her eyes. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I was stupid, and I was greedy, and I should have known it was too good to be true. And, hey, the things I changed were mostly a waste of time. He was just as sexy in his old clothes when he turned up to help clean the crypt. I could have stopped him smoking by promising him a blow job if he stayed off them for a week, that sorta thing. I wished he’d get a good job, and it’s gonna mean he’s got his own life, not always there when I want him. He’s spending the money on Xander and Anya, not on me. But why’s he stopped loving me? I never wished that.”
“You still don’t get it,” Willow shook her head. “Still with the ‘it was bad because I didn’t get what I wanted’. Oh, Buffy.” She rolled her eyes. “You stuck with me when I was wrong and stupid, and I’m not going to let you down now, but I think you’re getting just what you deserve. And more badness to come. You’ve got to ‘fess up to Spike, and to Dawn.”
“Do I have to?” Buffy whined. There was so much potential for badness there.
“Yes,” Willow declared, her chin lifting as she put on Resolve Face. “You know it’s gonna come out anyway. Come clean. Tell everybody. You have to.”
It had not been fun. At all. Tara had echoed Willow’s comments. Anya had warned of dire consequences, reminding her that Halfrek was a Vengeance Demon not a Fairy Godmother, and that the wish had to be related to vengeance in some way. She had also criticised Buffy for the sheer greed she’d shown in wishing for so much material wealth for Spike, no doubt having expected a fair amount of that wealth to end up being lavished upon her by her doting boyfriend. Buffy had bridled at that, feeling that Anya criticising her for greed was very much the pot calling the kettle black, but then deflated as she remembered that Anya worked hard for her money and was more than an equal contributor to her and Xander’s joint finances. She’d expected Xander’s support, knowing his hatred of vampires, but to her surprise he was at least as condemnatory as anyone else.
“God, Buffy, way to make a guy feel like total shit,” Xander said bitterly, screwing up his eyes and shaking his head. “Like he’s worth absolutely nothing to you. Not good enough to be seen with you, so you force a makeover down his throat without him getting any say in it. Going with him behind our backs, dirty little secret, been there with Cordy, hated it; but if she’d done to me what you did to Spike I’d have dropped her on the spot. I’d have felt like punching her in the face, although wouldn’t have ‘cause she’s a girl. But if Spike punched your lights out I wouldn’t blame him one bit.”
“But at least I made him human, not a vampire, got to be a good thing, right?” Buffy pouted.
Xander shook his head again. “I didn’t have a problem with Spike being a vampire. I had a problem with thinking he’d rip all our throats out if he got the chip out of his head. Plus, I had issues from Jesse, and Angel, and I took them out on Spike when it was nothing to do with him. But I’ve worked that out with Spike the past few days. If he turned back into his old self tomorrow, but with the chip out, I wouldn’t have any problem with him. I’d still hang with him. Fact is, Buff, I don’t much feel like hanging with you right now. ‘Bye.” He turned his back on Buffy and walked out.
If Buffy had thought that was bad it was nothing compared to her confession to Dawn. “God, Buffy, which one of us is the fifteen year old?” was about the mildest retort Dawn had made. And then there was the confession to Spike.
“I already know, Slayer,” Spike told her. “I worked everything out, put all the pieces together, and came up with the wrong answer. I thought Dawn had done it. I told Giles, and he told me the truth. He wouldn’t let Dawn be blamed for something she hadn’t done.” He began to pace up and down. “Why, Slayer? Why did you do it to me?”
“I thought you’d be pleased,” Buffy explained. “I thought I’d thought of everything. Alive, nice apartment, nice car, a legal identity, a way for us to be together. I made sure you’d keep your vampire strength, you’ve got Slayer healing. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“A way for us to be together? All that ever stood in the way was you being ashamed of me. Didn’t matter what I did, did it? Nothing I could do would ever be good enough for you. Do you know what you did? You made yourself a SpikeBot.”
“A SpikeBot?” Buffy repeated blankly.
“Yeah. Got me back good and proper. A living toy you could play with like an Action Man. Buffy and Spike, the boxed set, batteries included, dress them up, take them for drives in their flash car, tuck them up in their pretty dolls’ house. Except SpikeBot isn’t following his programming, is he? It didn’t occur to you that I might have finally got over you. Serves you right.” He winced. “I hate this. What you’ve done to me.” He spoke slowly and with concentration. “I was going to say ‘serves you bloody well right’ but it wouldn’t come. You’ve turned me into an After School Special version of myself. Bleeped me out. Taken the ‘Parental Advisory Explicit Lyrics’ warning sticker off. The non-smoking, teetotal, certificate G Spike. If your plan had worked out and I’d still been in love with you, would we have had ‘sexual intercourse’? Would I have ‘inserted my penis into your vagina’? Or would the camera just have cut away after the chaste kiss?”
“You’re not t-teetotal,” Buffy stammered. “You can still have up to t-two beers if you’re not going to be driving. And you can still swear if it’s appropriate, like if you hit your finger with a hammer or whatever.”
“Well isn’t that big of you? I have your permission to swear sometimes. I can have up to two beers. About the same freedom as you allow Dawn. It may have escaped your notice, Slayer, but I was twenty-five when I was turned, not fifteen. I’m not a child. I have a right to make my own decisions. Okay, some of them might have been pretty stupid, but they were mine. You think I couldn’t have watched my language in front of people from Social Services?” He stopped pacing and sat down. “You know, I remember one night in the Bronze. We were up on the balcony, watching the others dancing on the floor below, and I was thinking that what I wanted more than anything else in the world was for you to take me down there to join them. To acknowledge me in front of them. It would have been a dream come true. If I’d known the price I’d have to pay it would have been a nightmare.”
“The night you – you – f-fucked me on the balcony, you mean? You’d rather have been down on the dance floor with me?” Buffy asked, upset but feeling oddly flattered as well. “You never said. You were all with the ‘you belong in the dark with me’ thing. Telling me I was dirty as well.”
“What would have been the point of saying what I really wanted?” Spike asked. “You threatened to kill me if I told anyone about our little affair. You made it quite clear that I couldn’t expect to be out in the open with you. Was it surprising that I’d try to drag you into the shadows where you made it quite clear that I belonged?”
Buffy’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I was scared of what the others would say. I used you, I know it.” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “I don’t blame you for hating me after what I did. I’ll go now.”
“Buffy,” Spike said gently, reaching out a hand to stop her as she started to walk off, “I don’t hate you. You did something stupid, right enough, but it’s not as if I’ve never done anything stupid. Not as if I haven’t done things to hurt you. It’s not all bad. There’s been some good come of it. If I hadn’t phoned Harm she’d never have called in on Angel and been there to save that Wesley bloke and the kid. If I hadn’t asked Giles to come back we wouldn’t have known anything about that demon bloke, and if I hadn’t got the car we’d never have got there in time to save Harm and Wesley and the baby. And I don’t know if Xander and me would ever have got over all the bad stuff between us if I had stayed a vampire. I’ve got friends now. Anya, and Xander, and Giles, and Willow, and Richard. Don’t know if they quite make up for not being immortal any more, but I’m glad I’ve got them.”
Buffy dabbed at her eyes. “What about Tara?” she asked, puzzled by her omission from the list. “And this girl I’ve heard about, Tarantula or something?”
“Tara was my friend anyway, like Dawn. And I met Tarantula while I was a vampire too. Rescued her from some other vamps, went to a literary evening with her. The last night before I turned human. It was when I was with her that I began to realise I was over you. Felt good to be with someone who wasn’t telling me I was an evil soulless thing. Sorry,” he added hastily. “I didn’t mean to start bitching again.”
“The night before you turned human,” Buffy repeated. Something was nagging at her memory. “You realised you were over me. What time was this?”
“What time was it?” Spike echoed, puzzled. “Don’t remember. Not long after I left you outside your house. Does it matter?”
‘I wish he’d get over it. It would be so much simpler if he’d just stop loving me’, Buffy’s voice echoed in her head. Then Halfrek’s. ‘Wishes granted.’ ‘Oh, I assure you there were no tricks in that wish whatsoever.’ “She tricked me,” Buffy muttered. “She set me up.”
“Who set you up?” the former vampire asked, confused by Buffy’s digression.
“Halfrek. I made more than one wish,” Buffy explained. “The first one wasn’t to her. It was just me talking to myself. I didn’t mean it. She tricked me into asking for my wishes to be granted with an offer of pizza. God,” she snarled, “I sold out my love for two boxes of pizza. I am so going to kill her.”
“You did all this to me for pizza?” Spike gasped incredulously. “Were you crazy? I offered to get you pizza, I remember now. Why didn’t you just take me up on it?”
“Not the big wish. She offered to grant a wish for pizza as a freebie just to prove she was on the level. I didn’t know she was going to include the one about you not loving me any more in with the package.”
Spike’s eyes were wide, and then a grin began to spread across his face. “Oh, Buffy,” he chuckled. “That’s got to be some sort of record. Makes Esau selling out his birthright for a mess of pottage look like a smart deal. She stuck it to you good. Got to appreciate smart work like that.”
“She made you into a vampire in the first place,” Buffy retorted, stung by his amusement. “Granted your mother a wish and twisted that one too.”
The amusement was wiped from Spike’s expression instantly. “Cecily,” he exclaimed, going pale. “I thought I recognised her, but I wasn’t sure. She tricked my mother. It’s her fault I – her fault my mother died.” He seemed to shrink into himself and looked on the edge of throwing up.
Buffy’s annoyance vanished as quickly as had Spike’s laughter. “I’m sorry.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Bad memories?”
“God, you can’t know how bad,” Spike muttered.
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said again. “Seems like we just can’t help hurting each other.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I really am sorry, William. For everything.”
He reached up and took her hand, squeezing it briefly. “I know, love.” Her heart leaped. “I could do with a drink,” he commented, releasing her hand. “Think I’ll go and have the two beers I’m allowed, and then I’ve got to go and see a man about a stripper. Hope she’s not a dog.” He stood up. “Then I’m meeting up with Tarantula,” he went on, killing the hope that had flared up in her for a moment. “I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner.”
“Yeah,” Buffy said unhappily. “See you there.” ‘And I’ll get to meet Tarantula’, she thought bitterly. ‘Won’t that be a pleasure?’ “And I’ll see Halfrek at the bridal shower,” she added. “Maybe I can get her to take it back.”
“Maybe,” Spike said dubiously. “Doubt it, but I suppose it’s worth a try. Don’t know if there’s any way of catching her out with this one the way we did to get out of your everlasting party. But make sure it doesn’t affect anything I’ve done since the wish. Wouldn’t want to get to be immortal again at the cost of the kid’s life. I wouldn’t care about losing the house and the car and so on, but not that. Wouldn’t mind keeping the Green Card, though. I couldn’t do the Research Assistant job as a vamp, but I could get a job as a bouncer or what have you, no worries. But the top priority has got to be Angel’s sprog. Don’t ask for anything that might change what we did that night.”
“I won’t,” Buffy assured him. “Just you to be a vampire again, without changing anything we’ve done, and you to be able to drink and swear and smoke and love me again.”
“No!” Spike almost shouted. Sounding horrified, even panic-stricken. “Not that!”
Buffy went rigid with shock, her jaw dropping. “B-but I thought you wanted it,” she protested.
“I want my free will back. Not much point in that if I go back to being your ‘willing slave’,” he said bitterly. “Look, just leave it, okay? You’ve done some harm, some good; I suppose it pretty much balances out. What I’ve lost on the roundabouts I’ve gained on the swings. Start trying to pick and choose and you’re likely to mess up everything. Remember you’re dealing with a Vengeance Demon. But one thing’s for sure, Slayer. You force me back into loving you and I’ll resent it.”
“Okay,” Buffy said shakily, and she watched as Spike walked away, but then a plan came into her mind. ‘You won’t resent it if I wish you not to.’
It was one Hell of a party. The DJ was mixing Country with Nu-Metal, Rock with R&B, and Sixties songs with Hip-Hop; something for everybody, and he was doing it with wit and style. There was plenty of hot food for everyone, a free bar, and Xander’s more obnoxious relatives were tolerable in the circumstances, their bickering drowned in a sea of alcohol. And when Richard had said the strippers knew how far to go he had meant a long, long, way.
Most of Xander’s workmates were good blokes. Vince and Tony were pillocks, but the booze neutralised Vince too. Tony had been a nuisance for a while, taking exception to the British guys and mocking Spike for his virtual abstention from alcohol, but Richard had warned him off. “Cool it, Tony, stop being an asshole. I’ve seen Spike fight. He’d take you apart. And then we’d throw you out and you’d miss out on the strippers. C’mon, shake on it and get on with the party.” Tony had pretended to agree, and then tried to crush Spike’s hand in the handshake. Not a good plan against vampire strength, and a white and chastened Tony backed off to retire to the other side of the room and hold his drinks in his left hand for the next hour.
There were only two demon guests at the party; although Spike had some suspicions about the strippers’ minder, who sat quietly at the side of the room and took no part in the festivities. Clem’s wrinkly skin and pointy ears attracted some odd looks, as did the more human but still unusual visage of Anya’s friend Krelvin, but most of Xander’s relatives and work colleagues had seen strange things around Sunnydale before and were deep into the local culture of denial. His out-of-town relatives had by now encountered some of Anya’s demon wedding guests and accepted the ‘circus folk’ explanation. Or, if they hadn’t accepted it, they were too distracted by the drinks and the strippers to make any kind of an issue out of it. Clem was affable, unthreatening, and a good conversationalist on the topics of TV and popular culture; Krelvin was equally well-behaved and happy to chat with anyone; and before long nobody was taking any notice of their appearance at all.
Unlike the appearance of the strippers; this attracted a great deal of notice. They certainly were lookers, as advertised. Considering the amount Spike had spent on them he’d have been furious if they hadn’t been; but he had no reason to be dissatisfied.
Xander was certainly satisfied. More than once, Spike guessed. As was Xander’s father, Giles, at least one of Xander’s uncles, Richard, and Spike himself. The agent had asked for a list of guests who were to be singled out for ‘special attention’, and he had complied. He hadn’t named himself on the list, but presumably was included automatically by virtue of organising and paying for the affair; as he found out when he was approached and dragged off by two of the girls. In his case the ‘special attention’ turned out to involve baby oil and a pair of natural D-cups. Yes, he was definitely satisfied.
Afterwards Spike was leaning against the wall, making his second pint of the evening last as long as possible, idly listening to Xander’s Uncle Dave talking shop with Tito, the plumber from Xander’s firm, who had done some repair work on Buffy’s water pipes. Uncle Dave seemed to be a good bloke, unusual among Xander’s relatives, and Spike deduced that he must be Xander’s mother’s brother. Most of the Harris clan should have been drowned at birth.
Especially Xander’s father, if that somehow could have been arranged without negating his friend’s existence. Anthony Harris staggered towards Spike, drunk and dishevelled. “Great party, man,” he slurred. “Good job. Say, ain’t you the guy who lived in our basement for a while with that good-for-nothing son of mine?”
Spike was tempted to punch him, but held back; decking the groom’s father probably wasn’t standard etiquette for a bachelor party. “Yeah, Xander gave me a place to stay for a while when I really needed it,” he said levelly. “He helped me out a lot. It’s what he does. He’s about as far from ‘good for nothing’ as you can get.”
Mr Harris looked into Spike’s cold eyes and seemed to sober up slightly. He gestured towards the dance floor where a pretty African-American girl in a thong, white fish-net stockings, and nothing else was leading Giles away by his tie, four construction workers and Krelvin were playing air guitar to Kiss’s ‘Crazy Nights’, and another girl was rubbing her breasts against Uncle Rory’s chest. “Yeah, I guess if he’s got a pal who thinks enough of him to throw him a bash like this he’s gotta be doing something right. He’s doing okay, I reckon. Better than me. And that girl of his, she’s a bit strange and her relatives are fucking weird, but she’s one hell of a good-looking babe and she’s got a smart head on her. He’s okay. But don’t tell him I said so.” He stumbled away, breaking into song. “Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy nights…”
“Did I just hear my Dad say something good about me?” Xander asked, approaching from the other side of Spike. “Just how drunk am I?”
“You did,” Spike confirmed, turning to look at his friend. Xander was flushed, sweating, and his shirt was buttoned up crookedly. His fly was half open and part of his shirt protruded through the gap. “So, having a good time, mate?”
“Damn right I am,” Xander grinned. “Fucking good, you might say.” He followed Spike’s eyes, looked down, and hastily adjusted his dress. “And you?”
“I’m wondering if baby oil stains boxer shorts,” Spike replied obliquely.
“It comes out in the wash, no problem,” Xander assured him with the blithe confidence of one speaking from experience. “It’s chocolate body paint on whites you’ve got to watch out for. And petroleum jelly.” Spike raised an eyebrow and smirked. Xander grinned back, and then turned suddenly serious. “You didn’t have to do this, you know, Spike. It’s just awesome, but I think maybe it’s just too much. I don’t deserve it.”
“You saved my life a few times, you know,” Spike reminded him. “Well, my unlife. Remember when you pulled me out from the Hellmouth when the concrete slabs were falling on me?”
“And you’ve saved mine a time or two as well,” Xander answered. “Like when me and Will and Giles were in that magic trance and that big demon was heading for us. Don’t know who’d come out ahead if we started adding it up.”
“Okay, call it payback for me letting the pipes leak in your roof and doing nothing about fixing them,” Spike suggested.
“It was you that got the short end of the stick that time, your clothes that got soaked and shrunk in the wash,” Xander pointed out, and then began chuckling at the memory of Spike in his borrowed Hawaiian shirt and shorts. “Hell, we’ve shared some times, haven’t we? Look, I just mean, you must have spent a lot on this, and I hear you’re paying for Anya’s party too.”
“Easy come, easy go,” Spike replied with a shrug.
“Yeah, but you’ve a couple of years on a TA’s pay to get through before you get the big Professor bucks. Don’t want you running through your cash too fast. Not on me. I’m not worth it.”
“I’ve got a house, got a car, no payments to make, the cash’ll last out,” Spike assured him. “And you are worth it, Xander. You and Anya. Just forget about it and enjoy yourself.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. I was getting real tensed up about the wedding, you know? It was really starting to get to me. This has got me all loosened up again. Feel like a weight’s come off my shoulders.”
“Your shirt definitely did,” Spike pointed out.
“Huh?” Xander wondered, uncomprehending, and then realised what Spike meant. “It sure did. Hope Anya meant it about this being a free night. Still, if she doesn’t ask about what I’m getting up to I won’t ask her what she’s been doing.”
Anya’s party was a great success. She had not been unaware that something was planned, and had made sure that Buffy and Willow would be able to find out who to invite without any difficulty. Many of the guests were women they didn’t know; Anya’s demon friends, regular customers of the Magic Box, and members of the Sunnydale business community. Harmony was included, slightly to the other Scoobies’ surprise. Presumably Anya was going along with their plan to show the vampire girl the benefits of sticking to the path of Good, or at least the absence of Evil. She’d also invited Harmony to the wedding.
Inviting her to the party proved to have been a good decision. She was the surprise hit of the night. Once the under-age and the elderly had departed, and the bridal shower turned into a bachelorette party, her tales of her experiences working for a telephone sex chat line had the other guests doubled up in laughter.
There was a DJ, and karaoke, and ample supplies of food and drink. The strippers were suitably toned and muscular, their act obscene but unthreatening, and a good time was had by all. Except for the period when Buffy managed to get Halfrek alone.
“You tricked me,” the Slayer accused. “You took a casual remark I made and included it in with the wishes.”
“You mean the wish that Spike should get over you?” the Vengeance Demon asked, unruffled. “You worked it out? Clever of you. Pity for your sake that you weren’t a little cleverer earlier.”
“Take it back,” Buffy demanded. “He doesn’t love me any more. All the promises you made about not tricking me, and you did that to me.”
“I gave you what you asked for. There were no tricks at all in the wish you made voluntarily. And had you shown a little more feeling I would have reversed the first wish without you needing to ask,” Halfrek told her in a disapproving tone.
“What do you mean?” Buffy snapped.
“I offered to leave him as a vampire, find him legal gainful employment, and remove your friends’ prejudice against him. Where would the down side have been in that? You said it would be immoral to tamper with their minds. Then you went ahead and tampered with his, willy-nilly. Took away his freedom to drink, to smoke, to swear, to wear clothes of his own choice, to choose his own hairstyle. He was your willing slave before the wish anyway. If I’d removed that bit of freedom I’d already given him, when I’d allowed him to get over you, he’d have been nothing more than your puppet.”
“He wasn’t a puppet! I love him,” Buffy protested.
Halfrek poured herself out a glass of wine. “Then why didn’t you act like it? Didn’t it occur to you that I can only grant wishes when there is vengeance of some sort involved? I prefer to use the term ‘justice’, but it boils down to the same thing. I don’t hand out fairy godmother wishes out of the goodness of my heart, because, my dear, I don’t have any. I’m in the entertainment business. I grant wishes for the amusement of the denizens of the Lower Planes. No sting in the tail, no amusement. The greedier you got, the bigger the sting. I’m up for an award for this one. But if you’d just shown the simple human compassion of treating your lover like a man I’d have granted your wish as a freebie, written it off as a failed pilot programme, and reversed the first one. Not the pizza bit, that might have been somewhat uncomfortable and messy, but the important bit. You could have openly had your vampire lover, without your friends condemning you for it or interfering, and he could have been working legally and bringing in enough money to get by on. Without any nasty tampering with free will involved in any way. Cheers.” She lifted the glass and took a drink.
“No tampering with minds?” Buffy asked, confusion temporarily overriding her anger. “How could you have done it without that?”
“I’d just have given William a bit of a boost to his self-control and then manipulated everyone into having a bit of a heart-to-heart talk. Probably involving large quantities of alcohol, a little nudge or two, that’s all, and a truth spell. William hasn’t seriously wanted to harm any of your precious Scoobies for a long time. He had some resentment towards them for past ill-treatment, and over what they did to you without telling him, but nothing drastic. Xander’s felt guilty about how he’d been treating Spike for a while now, he just kept on doing it out of habit and because William responded with barbed words. Willow the same. Giles’ disapproval was rooted only in concern for the safety of yourself and others.”
“What, are you saying that Spike was good already?”
“Not exactly good, but getting there. He wasn’t evil any more. Rather like your new friend Harmony, but more so. He wanted to be accepted, to have friends, more than he wanted to go on a rampage of slaughter and destruction, plus there was the effect the microchip had had on him. He’d really lost interest in killing humans by now. He made one last try three months or so back but he was frankly relieved when it didn’t come off. Fighting on your side, at your side whenever possible, kept his innate desire for carnage satisfied and he was content with that. He’d have done anything for you. Refraining from eating people wouldn’t have been a problem at all. He loved you totally and absolutely. I was quite touched when I felt it, actually. Perhaps a little jealous. He never felt that way about me, even though what he did feel was enough to use to break him and send him out to meet his doom.”
“How do you know all this?” Buffy asked insistently. Halfrek was displaying far too much knowledge of the personal lives and feelings of the Scoobies for her comfort.
“Research,” Halfrek replied cheerfully. “The mark of a truly skilled Vengeance Demon. Know your targets. It took quite a few spells to get that much information, but it was worth it. Don’t worry, it’s privileged information, I’m forbidden to disclose it to third parties. I knew when I saw the bruises on him at your house, and felt the tension between you, that there was something there I could use to get a good project going. Something to make up for that utter fiasco of having to cancel the spell so that I could leave the house myself. I was right.”
“But where’s the vengeance? I don’t understand,” Buffy complained.
“I told you I researched things,” Halfrek responded, her cheerfulness evaporating. “I found out where those bruises came from. I played it back, saw what you did, I heard every word you said. I thought I’d been cruel to him back in 1880 but you made me look like an amateur. I changed my appearance and tried to tempt him into wishing vengeance upon you, but no luck. He just accepted it. Believed that somehow he’d deserved it, although he couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong, but he trusted you to know morality better than he did. Huh!” Halfrek snorted and looked down her nose at Buffy. “So I used you to get vengeance on yourself. I dug a pit and you fell right into it. I knew you loved him. If your love had been half as unselfish as his you’d have got everything you wanted.”
“Take it back,” Buffy commanded. “Take it back or I’ll smash your pendant.”
“I can’t,” Halfrek sneered. “I can only cancel the most recent wish. Same applies if you smash the pendant. We don’t want history unravelling. We caused the collapse of the empire of Alexander the Great, the French Revolution, the first Russian Revolution in 1905 that led directly to the successful one in 1917, lots of other big things. And I was directly involved in that last one. If smashing the pendant cancelled everything we’d done then the whole world would change. I could cancel the last wish, sure. Totally, so that everything that happened since was cancelled out and things were as if William had never been made human. Or I could just reverse the effects, so that he went back to being a vampire and was penniless in a crypt once more – and, incidentally, your father’s check would vanish too, and your college place – but he still wouldn’t love you. And if you smash the pendant he won’t love you either. You’ll just have wiped out that rescue mission you went on, a baby would die or be abducted, you’d still be working at the fast food place, and you’d have a human and mightily pissed Cecily Addams to deal with. And the first thing I’d be doing would be rushing to his crypt to beg for his forgiveness and plead for him to take me in your place. So fuck you, sister!”
Buffy’s lip quivered and tears came to her eyes. “I’m sorry. God, what I’ve thrown away. You love him?”
“No,” Halfrek admitted. “But I was fond of him once. I destroyed him because it was my duty. I’ve regretted it for a long time. If I could make it up to him I would. Maybe I have, in a way. And I would love to be loved that much again. His love is worth a lot. You should know. Worth a house, a car, a job, a College place?”
“Yes,” Buffy admitted sadly. “Worth putting up with cigarette smoke on his clothes and blood in the refrigerator. I know that now. Please, Hallie. I know I was greedy and wrong and stupid. Most of what I did was pointless. I miss the Ramones. I miss him wearing the coat. He looks good in the new clothes, but no more so than in his old. I miss him saying ‘bollocks’ and ‘shagging’. Most of all I miss the ‘shagging’, and him saying he loves me even when I try to stop him, which I so wouldn’t any more, and the look in his eyes. If he loved me again I wouldn’t care if he was a vampire. Wouldn’t care if we were flat broke. Can’t you fix it? Please?”
“I’m afraid not,” Halfrek replied, her expression softening. “I’m sorry. You’ve learned your lesson, and if I could fix it in a way that would make an interesting storyline I would. But I can’t. There is one way,” she added, relenting slightly as Buffy began to openly weep. “He got over you, that’s all. There’s nothing to stop him falling in love with you again.”
“A love spell,” Buffy suggested, her sobs stopping for a moment.
“I don’t fucking believe this!” Halfrek snapped. “You’ve learned nothing. I’m not going to give you any help whatsoever. Fuck off and die.” She stormed off, leaving Buffy to resume her weeping alone.
Buffy pulled herself together, repaired her makeup, and returned to the party. She had seen a ray of hope. Spike could fall in love with her again. No love spell, Halfrek had been right to blow up at her for that idea, but she could try the usual way. Be nice to him. Make a real play for him. He’d fallen for her before, he could again, right? Okay, there was a rival now, this Tarantula, but she was only an ordinary girl. Go for it, Buffy, she told herself. For now there was a party going on. Get rid of this misery by having some fun. A drink or two couldn’t hurt.
Of course it didn’t stop at one or two. There was a game of ‘I Never’, and it turned out that Buffy had done rather more than most, almost all of it with Spike. Every time she contemplated claiming not to have done something she caught Halfrek looking at her with a half smile and she didn’t dare to lie. She made the admissions and downed the penalty drinks. Only Anya and Halfrek had been more sexually adventurous and both of them had a much higher tolerance for alcohol than the Slayer. By the end of the night Buffy had left sobriety far behind.
Buffy, Willow, and Tara eventually made their way back to Revello Drive. Anya went with them, reluctant to return to an apartment which would contain Harris relatives she couldn’t stand but which might well not contain Xander, at least not a sober and functional Xander, and Harmony accompanied them too. She wasn’t sure she could find her way back to the crypt, being nearly as far from being sober as was Buffy, and anyway she was having much too good a time listening to Buffy and Anya sharing confidences about recent shortages of orgasms to want to leave.
Willow and Tara retired to bed. “I bet they’re going to have orgasms,” Anya complained enviously. The relatives sharing the apartment had brought a grinding halt to her sex life of late.
“They don’t have anything we don’t have,” Harmony pointed out wickedly.
“You’re right,” Buffy agreed, giggling, and kissed her.
Ten minutes later the three girls were in Buffy’s bed. Harmony proved to be very orally orientated, as was only to be expected in a vampire. Buffy had overheard conversations between her two housemates which had given away things that at the time she would rather not have known, but which proved pleasurable when she tried the ideas out. Anya was willing to experiment with anything that would bring her satisfaction. Eventually they fell into a satiated sleep.
Buffy had experienced some embarrassing mornings after in her life but this set a new record. She blushed in places she had never imagined could blush. The other two were blissfully free of embarrassment. Anya seemed to regard it as all part of a traditional bachelorette party, and Harmony didn’t have a conscience anyway. Only the Slayer ate a morose and unhappy breakfast; the bride-to-be and the vampire were cheerful and unashamed. Buffy thought that she would have died of shame if Dawn had been around, but luckily her sister had already left for school. Willow and Tara smiled but had the good sense to refrain from comment.
Anya helped Harmony make her way back to the crypt without encountering any dangerous sunlight and Buffy set off for College with Willow and Tara, still feeling slightly nauseous, and still convinced that she was blushing crimson. Suddenly she saw the funny side and giggled. “Fun party, wasn’t it?” she remarked.
“Definitely,” Willow agreed. “You certainly let your hair down.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Buffy said. She decided that she could admit everything to her two friends; they were hardly going to be repulsed, after all, and they had almost certainly already guessed. “I boinked Harmony,” she confessed. “I boinked Anya. God, if anyone else gets married and we play ‘I Never’ again I might as well just announce ‘I’ve done everything, give me the bottle’.”
“So,” Willow asked, with a wicked little grin. “What do you think of life on our side of the street?”
“Nice place to visit, although I wouldn’t want to live here,” Buffy grinned back. “As drunken one-night stands go it was way better than Parker.”
“So what colour is Anya’s hair really?” Tara asked.
“Sorry, can’t settle that question. She’s got a full Hollywood wax,” Buffy revealed.
“Still one of life’s great mysteries then,” Willow pouted in mock disappointment, and the girls laughed together.
Buffy parted from them on arrival at College and set off for her own classes. She was beginning to feel better, and a new resolve was filling her. Her mission, should she choose to accept it, was to win back Spike. She daydreamed her way through her first class with that thought in mind. Luckily she was travelling between classes when another thought popped into her head and doubled her up with laughter. ‘I wonder if Spike boinked Xander?’