Title: If We're Together 3/3
Author: Gail Christison
Rating: R for low-level violence, character death
Summary: Trish's challenge with some elements incorporated which may be future spoilery but since I'm not telling you which ones, you won't be spoiled, right? ;-) Basically I moved the challenge slightly into the future, past ep 20... It's a mixture of pure fiction and spoilers but unless you are already spoiled you won't know which is and which ain't. So you should still be able to read the story, right? :-)

Disclaimer: Joss and Marti are the vandals...I mean owners...of this show. I only mourn in writing...
Distribution: Probably OMWF http://www.wickedsky.com/oncemore and all you guys who have permission. Anyone else just ask away :-) Songs copyright their respective composers/writers/owners
Feedback: Always love to know what you think. *Except* I don't want to know if you don't like the character death. Characters are frequently killed off in fics, even Buffy herself and often Giles. If you've read the challenge and don't want to see this character killed off why are you reading the fic? 'And that's all I'm going to say about that... ' :-)
Author Notes: See above. I wrote this fic according to what Trish asked for because I needed to, and because I think a point had to be made here. If she'd asked for Riley or Dawn to be knocked off no one would have said a word. There might even have been cheers <wink> I doubt anything would have been said even if it had been Giles,Willow or Xander because fans of those characters know main characters get killed in fics all the time for dramatic and creative reasons. And so it is in my vignette for Trish.

Dedication: To Trish, for being so gracious while under fire; for Ruth who beta-ed, and for Gileswench, Karen, Ewie, GG, Dword, Sandra and everyone else who understands.

She staggered away from the light of the Espresso Pump, into the alley alongside it, not wanting to be seen, to be offered help she didn't deserve or to have to deal with anyone's pity.

By the time she'd managed to get all the way into the darkness she'd lost all functional control of her limbs, sagging against the side wall of the building and sliding down it as her shoulders shook. Years of killing, of death, of constantly being under pressure to stop death itself, to stop pain and hold back evil...of cruel losses and even crueller victories, had built up a reservoir of pain inside her that released, threatened to drown her in its intensity.

"So, pet, wrong again? Never you mind. Spike's here now to take care of you."

Buffy barely knew the vampire was there until he touched her trembling shoulder.

She jumped and looked up, humiliatingly unable to stop the sobs.

"Poor little Slayer found out I was right after all. Nobody wants you. Nobody loves you, except me. Here you are, chasing the darkness, just like I told you. You know where you belong." He put a hand under her elbow to ease her up to a standing position.

Buffy tried to pull away. His voice, the words, were haunting her, reminding her of things she thought she'd put behind her...ugly things she thought she'd managed to forget.

"No...I'm not like you!" She half yelled, half sobbed. "I'm not."

"C'mon, Slayer. You know I'm right. You know how good I make you feel...how much you need me."

She shook her head. "I'm not like you. You made me like you last year. You kept telling me I was like you...over and over...and...and I started to believe you. Why else would he leave me? I had to be horrible, bad...wrong, somehow. There had to be a reason he didn't love me anymore," she managed to rasp out.

"He never loved you, pet. None of them ever did. Not that great poof you mooned over for so long, not that idiot you slutted yourself for in college or your great wanker of a soldier boy, and bloody-well not that mongrel Watcher. The only one who ever truly stood by you was *me*. You hear me? *Me*: Spike. I put it all out there for you. Everything. *I am your world*," he added vehemently.

Buffy shook her head again. "No. For a little while we were equals. Sick, violent, whatever...but at least we were that. Then it was all about your wanting me, needing me, like all the others...even Angel. He said he was weak...that he wanted to take comfort in me. He wanted me to be strong for him. It's all wrong, Spike. I can't do it any more. I'm not his mother and I'm not yours! I need someone, just for once, to be there for me...to give *me* strength." The last sentence became a whisper as she realized what she was saying.

Spike recoiled, not at her last sentence, but at the reference to his mother. He opened his mouth to tell her not to talk about his mother at all, *ever* but Buffy kept talking.

She kept talking to keep from thinking about the realization that there had always been someone... she'd just been too blind, too spectacularly stupid to realize it.

"I'm not here to take care of you. I can't do that any more...the being needed, being responsible *all* the time. Don't you understand? It was killing me. I thought...just for a little while...that maybe you'd let me need you." Her trembling had grown worse, but the sobs had stopped, drowned by adrenaline.

"And haven't I been there whenever you needed me? Haven't I helped out? Given you what you wanted every time?"

Buffy looked away. "You gave me what you thought I needed, not what I really wanted. You gave me enough to make me keep wanting you around. Just enough...to make me want more."

"Just enough bloody *what*?" Spike snapped, annoyed.

Buffy's mouth trembled but she refused to weep. "Just enough gentleness...just enough words...just enough kindness to make me want more."

He subsided. "But I'm not kind, or gentle, is that it? I'm not sodding William. I'm a demon and that's bloody life...and death. I haven't had a century of brooding about it to make me a better man. I like who I am. Poofter boy might not like what he is, but it's still inside him, same as me. You know you like a little evil in your men. You know I'm what you want. Forget the sodding Scoobies and their stupid old man. They forgot you quick enough when the sex-kitten rocked up."

"It's all that simple to you, isn't it, Spike?" Buffy said wonderingly. "You really think that I can turn my back on everything I love, just like that? Just give up and let Faith and everyone else die saving the world, while I ride off into the sunset with you...or more likely into some dark alley to screw like..." She stopped, sobered by the memories. "It can't be like that anymore, Spike. I'm not that person anymore. You took me when I was broken and hurting and you fashioned this...this real live doll...like that-that sex toy you paid Warren to build. That's still all this is to you. You want your toy back," she said defensively, angrily.

Spike's eyes widened and grew moist.

"It's not going to work this time," she growled when she felt herself responding to the pathos he was so expert at.

"Whaddaya mean?" he snapped. "I can't believe you think this is anything but love. I've devoted myself to you...only you. I want to be with you...I want us to be together...forever."

Buffy shuddered and shook her head. "Your devotion is all about getting what you want. I remember you being devoted to my sister...who, coincidentally, you haven't given a crap about since you got what you really wanted. And when you thought you were going to lose it again, how devoted were you to me in that bathroom? How loving where you when I was screaming at you to get off?" Her expression hardened. "In all the times we were together, all those times it got rough and violent...never once did I *ever* scream, or cry, Spike."

A lot of things were reflected in Spike's eyes as she spoke, not least recognition of the truth, then the reality. His face twisted into a sneer.

"So this is what I get after everything I've done for you, your whiny sister and those stupid, ungrateful minions of yours? That's it?"

Buffy was tired. Very, very tired. Soul tired. Her face was dusty and tear streaked, her eyes swollen and red. "I'm sorry, Spike. Really...I am. Sorry that it ever got started...for everything I did and said...I know I was horrible...worse than horrible."

Spike's colour was high now. "You think 'sorry' is going to fix everything?" He took hold of her shoulders and lifted her close to his face. "Am I beneath you again, now? Is that it? Not good enough for the almighty bloody Slayer?"

Buffy strove to control her instinct to retaliate. She shook her head again. "The truth is, Spike, that neither of us is good enough, anymore. I can't be with you any more, but I'll never have what I want either, because I don't deserve it. I will fight the First, and I will win, because that's what I'm supposed to do...what I was put here for, but that's it. I was never meant for picket fences and puppies and you never intended to give them to me, anyway."

"Well, fuck you!" Spike raged, when Buffy continued to stare at him with eyes that were dead of any response and pooled with terrible sadness, but did not struggle in his grasp. He threw her back against the wall and clenched his fists. "I don't believe it. I don't bloody believe it! You're just like all the others. I'm never good enough for any of you, am I? She was the only one who ever really loved me. The only one..." He slammed his fist into her cheek. "The only one!" he shouted as Buffy struggled to get up, despite the ankle that was nearly twisted backwards.

"Spike, don't do this!" she cried as he grabbed hold of her shoulders again and started to haul her up.

"Do what? I'm going give you that darkness you're always flirting with. You're so obsessed with evil and misery and pain: become one with it." Before Buffy could begin to gather her mangled wits and fight back, he'd switched to game face and sunk his fangs in almost exactly where Angel had fed off her, only this time instead of accepting her fate, she began to struggle, opening her mouth to scream just in time to see a familiar face appear over Spike's shoulder.

The soft green eyes looked questioningly into hers for an agonisingly long moment, and saw her answer...

Buffy fell painfully to the ground, bashing her damaged ankle as the dust rose all around them. As the waves of pain subsided she lifted her eyes to the figure standing before her, black clad arm still raised, Mister Pointy clamped in the strong left hand.

"How long?" she whispered, her voice croaking.

"Long enough," he said softly, dropped the stake and extended his arm, his fingers outstretched.

After a disbelieving moment, Buffy took them, but instead of carefully finding her feet...or foot, she pulled herself up and threw herself into his arms, sobbing when his finally closed around her as tightly as hers were clutching him. And then for a time she couldn't stop sobbing.

When Giles realized that it was more than just reaction to almost being turned or to the death of someone she'd once cared for, his features thawed, the stoniness replaced by strong emotion as he rested his cheek comfortingly against the top of her head and let her weep.

A long time later, Buffy grew quiet then lifted her head, looking up at him.

"How...how did you know?"

"I followed you out as soon as I could. Spike was already there. I waited. I didn't want to interfere, but I couldn't leave you alone with him while we didn't know..." He looked away.

"It...it's okay. I know how stupid I was now. I know how much danger I put everyone in. I was an idiot. You were a bastard, and I was an idiot."

He looked up again, jade eyes glinting in the half-light. "It's my lot in life to have to play the bastard, Buffy. I asked you once before to forgive me. If...if I asked you again...?"

Moisture filled the blue-grey eyes again and she struggled to find the words. "You can ask that, after everything I've done to you?"

He looked away, defeated. "I'm sorry. I truly am, but I do understand that some lines cannot be uncrossed." He started to turn.

"P-please don't," she sobbed.

He halted. "Don't...what?" he asked tremulously, without turning.

"Don't... Buffy struggled to swallow another sob. "...Let me go."

Giles turned back.

"Oh, God, Giles, is she okay?"

Both Giles and Buffy looked up from their ferocious new embrace.

"Willow?"

"Will?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Xander?"

"Xand?"

The younger man looked bewildered. "We missed something, didn't we?"

Willow couldn't help a small giggle. "Obviously," she told him.

"And now we're butting in. We should, y'know, butt out, now."

"No!" Buffy exclaimed, surprised to hear Giles echoing her cry.

Willow and Xander stood, flatfooted, wondering what they'd done now.

And then all four of them were looking at each other, all four sets of eyes growing very bright...

It seemed like an age before they were moving. Hugs became a group maul, all of them trying, somehow, to exorcise every demon that had cursed their lives since high school ended, each taking with it the last vestiges of innocence and joy.

Then they were hugging each other again, and then hugging each other some more, moisture flowing freely, including droplets falling on both red and golden hair.

"What happened to all of us?" Willow managed, from somewhere in Giles' shirt.

"A very good question," Giles croaked.

"We should research it," Xander cracked, but despite the humour in his voice, it wobbled audibly.

"Together," they all chorused.

The end.

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