Spike jumped down to the lower chamber of his crypt. He felt older now than he ever remembered feeling before. Once again, he’d spent the whole bloody night following the slayer. He’d lost her at one stage and it had taken him over an hour to find out that the sneaky little minx was back home and safely tucked in for the night. Bloody bint knew he was there, too; he had heard her giggling.
He had kept his word. He hadn’t said a thing to anyone about the most incredible night in his existence, and it was slowly killing him.
He hadn’t spoken to anyone in the two weeks since ‘that night’. He’d kept to himself, doing his damnedest to avoid actual contact with her, even going so far as to hide from the niblet when she would sneak over to see him after school.
His life had become a study in sheer torment. Every day was the same. Visit butcher shop to pick up blood. Wait for Buffy to patrol and then follow. Watch over the house till just before dawn. Come home. Sleep. Repeat. But no thinking. Abso-bloody-lutely no thinking. Thinking brought memories and memories brought pain.
He shook his head, desperately trying to rid himself of his thoughts. The bleedin’ things were doing some serious damage to his senses. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was in the room with him.
That was when he saw it.
A plain white envelope was resting against his pillow. It was clearly a used white envelope, because the original name, though crossed out, was still visible. It laid there, stark white in contrast to the black satin sheets that he didn’t remember having. Tilting his head to the side, Spike focused on the envelope, making the decision to think about the anomaly of the sheets later.
Buffy’s name was still legible regardless of the large X crossed through it. Spike’s name was simply printed. The dot above the ‘i’ in his name was a cute little heart. Turning the envelope over he found a lipstick kiss and a brief remark ‘sorry – didn’t have a wax stamp thingy.’
Spike chuckled and lifted the envelope to his lips. Walking over to his dressing table, he opened one of the drawers and pulled out an ornate silver letter opener. There was no way he was going to risk anything happening to that kiss. Slitting the top carefully, he managed to retrieve his letter and not damage the precious reminder. He walked back to the bed, opened the letter and started reading.
There are so many things I need to say to you, but I really suck at the whole word thing, so I’m taking a page out of your book and tying to put it all down on paper.
You were wrong about some things in your letter, but you were right about a lot more. There, I said it. Spike was right…and since I wasn’t just struck by lightning, I’ll continue.
You said that with the Slayer, you knew where you stood. That that part of me could only see you as a soulless demon and never as anything else because of Angelus. Well, you would be wrong. You were right when you said that the Slayer part of me didn’t trust the Buffy part of me, but wrong about the Slayer only seeing you as evil. You think that all this time the Slayer hasn’t dusted you because she sees you as just a soulless demon? Really, Spike; I thought you were more insightful than that.
Do you think that the Slayer would have made a pact with just any soulless demon? Do you think that the Slayer would have allowed Angelus to be un-dusty if he’d come to us after being chipped? Do you think any other vampire would have survived the ‘chains of love’ incident? Do you think the Slayer would have entrusted you with the safety of her family? With the life of her sister, the one person she would (and actually did) die for? The Slayer trusts you absolutely. You already earned her trust, many times over.
It’s not a question of Buffy the girl, not trusting you either. She doesn’t trust herself and unfortunately that is where the problem lies. Both sides of me don’t trust Buffy’s judgement and as you once so rightly put it; I’ve got ‘bleedin’ tragic’ taste in men.
You did the right thing, you know - leaving me the letter. If you had stayed. we would have both done or said something stupid, and it would have only ended in badness. This way was undeniably sneaky, but a good sneaky.
I must have read your letter about a thousand times over the last two weeks (yay for good quality paper!). You left me with a lot to think about and I gotta say it’s irritating how right you were about a lot of it. Angel was the start of the trust issues, and it’s true I was too scared to allow myself to take the chance again after all the drama that was that relationship. Parker was a mistake, and Riley? Well, Riley was an attempt at a façade.
You see, I finally figured it out. Buffy wanted normal, but to have normal she had to deny a part of herself – the Slayer half. Granted, not smart. I know now that if I deny any part of me, then any relationship I get into will just be a lie. It took me a while, but I got there.
As for heaven and my friends? Once again, Spike was right on the money. I took your advice. I spoke to them- all of them- and I spoke to Dawnie, too. I ranted and raved and was all crazed Buffy, but I can look at them now and feel the anger fading.
I don’t want you to go to Africa, Spike. There isn't anything there that you can't find right here.
You say you love me. Well, your actions that night and the letter showed me how true this is, and I’m sorry I ever doubted you.
In your letter, you told me that you didn’t think that I’d let you be anything to me. That I could never love you. Well, just for the record the Slayer already does, and Buffy is willing to try. If you still want to, that is. If you still love me– all of me– you’ll give Buffy a chance to learn to love you, too.
I’m really nervous Spike, and really scared. Don’t break me.
Yours, (if you want me)
Spike sat stock still, tears streaming down his face. He read and re-read the last few paragraphs. Sure that his overactive imagination was putting words there that Buffy had never actually written, he read the words out loud, “…‘Well just for the record the Slayer already does’, the Slayer loves me, bloody hell,” he whispered in awe.
Jumping from the bed, he paced in excitement, mumbling all the while, “She loves me! Alright then, what the hell do I do now? Flowers? Nah, she likes chocolates. Chocolates it is then. Money, I need money. If I’m gonna be with the Chosen One, then I have to change my ways. Need to be a good influence on the niblet, too, so that cuts out everything but the bloody lawyers. Oh well, I swore I wouldn’t use the family money for anything bad. Right then, so where were we? Um, she loves me, money’ll be sorted with a phone call, she loves me, and it’s still daylight …bloody hell, she did this on purpose just to drive me insane,” he growled in frustration. “How the hell am I supposed to wait till sundown to go to her?”
The soft scrape of footsteps had him whipping around. His muttered imprecations trailed off to nothing as he stared at the vision before him.
“Does this mean you still want to try?” Buffy offered a shaky smile as she stepped out of the shadows.