When It Don't Come Easy
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-13
Archive: If you already have my stuff, if not please ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm certainly not making any money off them, more's the pity.
Summary: Going rapidly AU during the events of Entropy in BtVS S6, Spike makes a couple of wishes that will change everything. What is Buffy going to do when presented with a very different Spike—who doesn't feel quite the same way about her anymore?
A/N: This fic presupposes my short stories, The Lonely Hearts Club and The Way to a Poet's Heart. You don't have to have read those; just know that in this 'verse Spike and Tara have become pretty good friends.
Chapter 14: A New Leaf
"Restless tonight/'cause I wasted the light/Between both these times/I drew a really thin line/It's nothing I planned/And not that you can/But you should be mine/Across that line/If I traded it all/If I gave it all away for one thing/Just for one thing/If I sorted it all out/If I knew all about this one thing/Wouldn't that be something/I promise I might/Not walk on by/Maybe next time/But not this time/Even though I know/I don't want to know/Yeah I guess I know/I just hate how it sounds..." ~Finger Eleven, "One Thing"
Xander woke up the next morning and knew that his day was going to suck. Working around power tools with a hangover was about the worst punishment for drinking too much ever devised. He really ought to know better by now.
Rolling out of bed with a groan, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some cold water on his face, and he glanced into the mirror and was caught by his own reflection.
Xander saw his father.
How many times had he come out of his room in the morning, only to see his father stumbling into the bathroom, hung over from a night of drinking? How many times had he taken out a trash bag that was more than half full of bottles and cans?
"This has got to stop."
The voice was his own, but it didn't sound like him. For a moment, Xander had sounded like his other half—when he'd gotten split into two sides, and one half had embodied all of his strengths, and the other all of his weaknesses. He'd sounded like his stronger half.
Xander knew that he'd been acting like his weaker half for a while now.
Setting his jaw, he finished brushing his teeth and washing his face. Then, he went into the kitchen and took all of his beer out of the fridge, and the rest of his liquor out of the cabinets. Xander dumped it all into a trash bag and grabbed his keys, dumping the bag in the garbage on the way out to his car.
The vision he'd had before his wedding, the one that had caused him to change his mind about the wedding, had shown him nothing more and nothing less than his worst nightmare. Xander had seen it happen—had watched his parents grow to resent and even to hate one another over the years. He'd watched his mother get more and more beaten down, and his father more and more belligerent.
That was why he hadn't hesitated to believe that the potential future he saw was possible.
The fact was that he didn't have Anya anymore, and he never would again, but if he wanted to make something of his life—if he didn't want to become his father—something needed to change. A start in the right direction would be to cut out the drinking.
"Rough night last night, Xander?" Mike called as he got to the site.
Xander shrugged. "Yeah, I ran into my ex. You know how that goes."
Mike gave him a sympathetic nod. "Yeah. It sucks, man."
"Yeah." Xander gave him a lopsided smile. "Let's get to work, huh?"
If nothing else, this made sense. If nothing else, Xander Harris was a good carpenter.
It was a place to start.
~~~~~
"Do you mind it?" Anya asked over a glass of wine at their favorite restaurant.
Giles could hardly believe that they had a favorite restaurant; he'd told her to pop in any time, and she'd taken him up on his offer. Then, he'd asked her to dinner, and she'd accepted his invitation. Now, they were having dinner together at least once a week, and sometimes more often than that. There was a part of him that wanted to ask her back to his place for more than just a nightcap, but he was still hesitant.
If he did decide to relocate to Sunnydale, how on earth was he going to explain his relationship with Anya? While Giles didn't think he had to explain anything, there would still be uncomfortable questions.
Of course, Giles wasn't sure
that he did want to move back to
Sunnydale. Since his last trip, things in
He never should have cut off all contact, that was certain.
"Do I mind what?" Giles asked, Anya's question finally cutting through his own thoughts.
"Me being a vengeance demon."
Giles blinked. "Why should it matter if I mind?"
"Aren't we in a relationship?" Anya asked. "I just—never mind. Forget I said anything."
"I don't want to forget it." Giles reached across the table for her hand. "What do you want to know?"
Anya frowned. "I'm just not sure what you want. You haven't asked me to spend the night yet, and I thought that's what you did."
Giles smiled, bringing her hand up to his lips. "I wasn't sure that you'd want to," he said frankly. "I wanted to give you enough time to recover. After what happened with Xander..."
"That's over," Anya said. "It's done. He came by the other day and apologized, and it didn't hurt to see him. I don't even really hate him anymore, although sometimes I still want to."
He took a sip of his wine. "To answer your question, no. I don't mind that you're a vengeance demon. I don't know if it's going to interfere with our relationship, and I hope that it doesn't, but I'm willing to cross that bridge when we come to it."
"I'm working completely in dollars and cents now," Anya confessed. "D'Hoffryn agreed that hitting men where it hurts generally involves going after their bank accounts. I'm getting quite the reputation for making deadbeat husbands and fathers pay up."
Giles smiled. "I really don't mind. As I said, I'm willing to cross that bridge when I come to it."
"Then will you ask me to bed already?" Anya asked. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks."
His expression was nothing short of predatory. "I'll just have to make up for lost time, then."
~~~~~
"Hey," Eric said as Dawn slipped outside. "You know, I was planning on ringing the doorbell and everything."
"Trust me, you don't want to go in there right now," Dawn replied. "My sister is going insane."
He opened the passenger door for her and slid into the driver's seat before asked, "Is there any particular reason, or is it just one of those days?"
"Well, my sister is always slightly insane," Dawn replied, "but she's got a dinner date tonight, and she's freaking over what to wear. But she's trying to pretend that she's not freaking, which just makes it worse."
Eric frowned. "Is her having a date that big of an event? I mean, I saw your sister. She looks like she'd have guys beating down the door." At the look Dawn gave him, Eric held up a hand. "Not that anyone would look at her twice once they saw you."
Dawn rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that formed. "Nice save. No, it's a date with an old boyfriend. I think they might be getting back together."
"That should make it easier, right?"
"Harder," Dawn said. "There's baggage. Like, a truck load of baggage."
Eric smiled and reached for her hand. "No baggage here."
"No," Dawn agreed. "We're traveling light." She gave him a curious look. "Where are we going tonight?"
"I thought we'd have dinner with my parents."
Dawn stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"
He laughed. "They aren't that scary."
"Eric!" Dawn exclaimed. "I'd have done something different with my hair! Or worn a dress!" She looked down at her jeans. "You said casual!"
"It is casual," Eric assured her. "And I was kidding. I thought we could go out to dinner and then watch a video at my place. My parents made me promise that I'd bring you home so they could meet you."
Dawn grimaced. "No fair when I look hideous."
He snorted. "Now you're fishing for compliments."
"I am not." Dawn sighed. "Maybe a little."
"You couldn't look anything but beautiful." Eric smiled at her, his hazel eyes sincere.
She beamed at him. "You're getting really good at that."
Eric just shrugged. "I've been practicing in front of the mirror."
~~~~~
"Do you think I should bring flowers?"
William wiped his already-sweaty hands on his khaki pants. "Do you think I should take her flowers?"
She shrugged. "Do you want to bring flowers?"
"I don't know. Would they send
the wrong message?" William caught the suspicious twinkle in
"It really kind of is, sweetie," she replied. "If you want to bring flowers, or if it would make you more comfortable, then I think you should."
He shook his head. "If it were a date, then I would bring flowers, but if it's just a meeting between friends, she might laugh at me."
"Girls don't laugh at
flowers,"
"Oh." William couldn't think of an argument to that. "Right."
"Good," William said. "I should go now if I'm going to pick those up."
"Have fun,"
William was quite sure that he
was too nervous to have fun. How was he supposed to teach Buffy how to cook?
While he could manage the basics, he wasn't nearly as proficient in the kitchen
as
When it came to choosing a bouquet of flowers at the corner store, however, William was at a loss. The language of flowers had been too deeply ingrained for him to simply ignore the symbolism, even though he knew that Buffy probably didn't have the first idea what he might be saying.
Light red carnations would probably have been most appropriate, but William remembered that carnations were sometimes regarded as cheap these days. His eyes were drawn to the daisies, although neither he nor Buffy could be considered pure or innocent in any way.
On the other hand, they were pretty, and seemed a friendly sort of flower, which roses were certainly not. Roses said something he wasn't ready to say, and he thought that even Buffy would be able to read the message inherent in the blooms.
Daisies it would have to be, then, and William would simply hope that they might signify the return to innocence for which both of them might be grateful.
~~~~~
Buffy checked herself over in the mirror once more when she heard the doorbell ring. In jeans and a pink shirt, she looked nice, without looking like she'd spend hours over her appearance—which she hadn't. Buffy hadn't wanted to give William the wrong message, so she'd had to be careful about what she wore.
That was really all it was.
She thought that she might like him; dinner the other night had been fun, and it had been clear that Dawn adored him. That was a huge plus in his favor, since Buffy was well aware that a relationship would run a lot smoother if her boyfriend at least got along with Dawn.
Not that she was thinking about William as her boyfriend yet. It was too soon, considering that it wasn't all that long ago that he'd hated her, though he seemed to have softened to her considerably in the recent weeks.
Buffy thought that the turning point probably had been when she'd stayed overnight with him to make sure he was okay. There had been something in his eyes that morning that hadn't been there before, and ever since then William hadn't been trying to avoid her, as far as she could tell.
Although she hated to even think about it, Buffy had to wonder if it didn't have something to do with the fact that she had actually been nice to him. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd been nice to Spike.
And, if the wish had removed the love that Spike felt for her, it was no wonder that all William felt was disdain, given the way Buffy had treated his vampire self.
Losing Spike had made her realize just how much she'd come to depend on him, however. Buffy had told herself that she would be fine without him, but that had only been true only as long as he was a short walk away. Once Spike had been gone—forever gone—it had been a different story altogether.
Buffy skipped down the steps and opened the front door, her eyes going wide when she saw the bouquet of daisies in William's hand. "Oh."
"I hope that it's alright that I brought flowers," he said, looking a little nervous. "I wasn't sure, and I—"
"No!" Buffy said, ushering him inside. "They're great." She smiled as she took the bouquet he held out. "They're perfect. It's been a long time since anyone has brought me flowers."
He frowned, following her into the kitchen. "Really? I find that hard to believe."
"Well, Angelus sent me roses for Valentine's Day, but I don't count those." Buffy found a vase and set about putting them in water, unable to prevent the happy little grin from forming.
"And Riley?" William asked.
"Not a hearts and flowers kind of guy," Buffy explained. "I think maybe once, for Valentine's Day, but he was better at picnics."
"It seems to me that a lady deserves flowers," William said. "When I—"
She glanced up at him curiously, sensing his discomfort. "When you what?"
"When I was human the first time, there was a whole language that was spoken through flowers," William finally said.
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "And what do daisies say?"
"They're used to symbolize innocence and purity," he admitted. "I just thought that you might like them."
"They're pretty," Buffy acknowledged. "So what would you say if you could?"
William hesitated. "I'm not sure." When she stayed silent, hoping that he would continue, he finally said, "I would have brought you light red carnations to express my admiration."
"So, you admire me, huh?" Buffy asked playfully.
"Of course."
Buffy wondered if she dared bring up his previous coolness. "Because you didn't seem so admiring right after you made that wish."
William stared at the countertop as though it held the response to her observation. "I remembered the way you'd treated m—Spike."
"Yeah, about that..." Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I think I do," Buffy insisted. "I apologized before, but not really. I was using you—Spike, and it wasn't fair, because I knew how you—he felt." She gave him an apologetic smile. "This is a little confusing."
A smile tugged the corners of his lips. "Yes, I suppose it is."
"Anyway, I'm sorry about that."
William gave her a long look. "Then you're admitting that Spike loved you?"
Buffy swallowed, knowing that if she admitted that she'd known Spike's feelings were real, it would make her behavior that much worse. On the other hand, if she didn't, Buffy had a feeling that not admitting it would mean the end of whatever friendship they were in the process of building. "Yes, I am."
"I see." William took a deep breath. "Why don't we get started with the lesson?" he suggested. "What did you want to make?"
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn't going to make a big deal out of her confession. "I thought maybe the same thing you made the other night."
He nodded. "Alright, then. I assume that you purchased chicken."
~~~~~
William hadn't laughed this much in so long—he couldn't remember ever enjoying himself quite this much. Just the expression on Buffy's face when he'd insisted she handle the raw chicken had made it worth his time.
"Okay, this is actually good," Buffy said as she took a bite. "I think you might be a miracle worker."
"You were the one who did the work," William reminded her.
Buffy shook her head. "You've never seen me make dinner before. I burn water. The fact that this meal tastes as good as it does has to be due to your presence."
William could feel himself flush with pleased embarrassment. "I didn't do much."
"You did a lot." Buffy smiled at him. "This was a lot of fun."
"It was," he agreed.
She gave him a hopeful smile. "Maybe we could do this again?"
"You want another cooking lesson?" he asked, a little confused.
Buffy shook her head. "No, I was thinking more of a date. Although, we could definitely work food into it."
William didn't know what to say. He wanted to accept, and at the same time, the risk seemed enormous. He'd promised himself that he wasn't going to get involved with anyone again, and now Buffy seemed to want a relationship with him.
"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. "I'm being pushy, and I told myself that I wasn't going to do that. We don't have to make it a date. It could just be a friends thing. I'm really okay with that."
William shook his head. "I don't understand," he admitted. "I don't see why you'd want a relationship with me."
"Because I like you," Buffy said. "You're nice, and good for my sister, and I have fun with you."
He didn't know quite what to say to that, but William found that he couldn't argue with her. "When do you want to go?"
"What about Sunday afternoon?" Buffy suggested. "I have to work tomorrow."
William nodded. "I do, too. What time should I pick you up?"
"
William smiled. "Sunday it is."
And suddenly the world looked like a brighter place.