Part 11

He paced across the room, eyes blazing, hands waving about frantically.  Those who didn’t see the ‘zeppo’ in action before could certainly get a taste of his special brand of anger at that moment.  But there was only one person he spoke to, one person to observe the one-of-a-kind lunatic ravings of Xander Harris.  “No way.  It is not possible that it’s happening again.  It’s crazy, it’s insane, it’s…it’s…inconsolable!”

Cordelia sat silently on the couch in the castle’s library, filing her nails and practicing her bored look.  She glanced up at her ranting boyfriend and corrected, “The word is inconceivable.”

Xander glanced up from his pacing.  “No, I’m inconsolable.  I’m never going to get over this.”

The brunette on the couch raised an eyebrow, silently noting that Xander knew the definitions of actual vocabulary words and used them when provoked.  She filed it away for future use and returned to her nails.  She’d grown used to his Willow-induced ranting, and learned how to effectively block it out when necessary.

“Cordy,” he asked, “aren’t you worried?  Willow is upstairs, fast asleep in the same room as that blood-sucking fiend!  Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

“Yay, Will,” she answered with a smirk.

“Don’t you have anything RATIONAL to say about that?”

Cordy’s smirk faded into a scowl.  “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?  It’s not your issue.  You have nothing to do with it.  Just deal, already.”

Xander glared back at her. Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “You knew already, didn’t you?  You knew, and you didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“Why should I have stopped it, Xander?  Better yet, why would I want to?” she countered.  Then Cordelia turned her attention to the door.  Someone was knocking.  “Yes,” she called out sweetly, her voice changing instantly from its previous venom-filled state.

The wooden door opened and Buffy stepped in, dressed in her pajamas.  “The walls are made of stone and I can STILL hear you guys arguing down the hall,” the Slayer informed them grumpily.  “Not that I really care what’s making you both so wiggy, but why don’t you let me help so the rest of the castle can sleep?”  Both Xander and Cordelia stared at her, stubbornly refusing to speak.  Buffy crossed her arms in front of her.  “Rephrase: Tell me what’s going on or I’m going to start throwing punches.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes.  “Xander’s all pissed off ‘cause of Willow and Spike.”

The Slayer nodded.  Then Cordelia’s words sunk in.  “What?!”

“That’s what I said,” Xander informed her.  “Thus starting the yelling.”

Buffy was speechless for a moment.  “Willow…and Spike?” she asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Cordelia said.  She was trying not to smile.  For once, she knew something important before anyone else.

“But, Willow and SPIKE?” Buffy asked again.  Her voice was sharper that time.

“Yeah,” repeated the May Queen impatiently.  “We’ve established that.  You can move on from there now.”

“When did that happen?”

Cordelia glanced at her watch nonchalantly.  She was having fun.  “About five minutes ago.”

“And you’re okay with this,” Buffy said to Cordelia, who nodded.  Then she turned to Xander, “And you’re not.”

Xander nodded and said, “Great.  Now that we’re all on the same page, can we get to the issue at hand?”

“Which is?” asked Buffy.

He threw up his hands.  “Stopping the madness!”

“Why stop it?” asked Cordelia.  She smiled; hoping it would patronize the hell out of him.  “I think it’s great.”

It worked.  Xander snorted, “Great being another word for wrong.”

Another voice joined in from the shadows.  “I don’t know. Maybe we should leave it alone.”  Angel stepped out of the darkness and walked towards them.  Xander groaned.

“What is this, a group discussion?”

Angel ignored him and continued, “Willow could be good for Spike.  A light to balance the darkness.  I know she can handle him.”

“Yeah, with the handle of a really sharp stake,” muttered the Slayer.  She glanced up at them, surprised.  “Oops.  Did I say that out loud?  I meant for it to be a thought. Did I mention that I think it’s Willow’s decision?  ‘Cause that’s what I meant to say.”

“Point noted,” Cordelia said.

“And discarded,” added Xander.  “There’s no way I’m letting my Will--”

“XANDER!”

“--Power get in the way of letting Willow choose her own man,” he finished without missing a beat.  “However, I guarantee that she won’t choose to be with Spike.”  “Oh yeah?” asked Buffy. “

Yeah.  And I’ll tell you why: Oz.”  The room fell silent as Buffy, Cordelia and Angel’s faces dimmed with realization.  “Forgot about Dog-boy for a moment, didn’t we?” Xander asked smugly.

“Dog-boy?”

“Shut up, Dead-boy.”

“Is this some complex you have?” Angel asked.

Xander glared at him in response.  “Buffy, can you stake him?  For me?”

A few floors above the chaos, Spike and Willow still occupied the cavernous bedroom.  The previously roaring fire died hours before, but he didn’t want to leave her side in fear that she would wake up alone and frightened.  So he remained, observing and marveling over the beautifully fragile girl sleeping before him.  Over a week’s time, he saw her perform incredible feats ranging from the transportation spell to defeating the evil magician to making the ‘soul having’ Angel stop his brooding.  Her strength, both physical and mental, was undisputed, yet he found himself drawn to her vulnerability.

“You love her.”  The voice echoed throughout the room, startling Spike from his troubling thoughts.  He tore his gaze from Willow’s sleeping face and turned towards the doorway, expecting to see anyone but the person standing at the foot of the bed.  She wore a dress of ivory lace and an expression of pure serenity.  Even in death, his dark goddess was beautiful.

“Dru,” was the only word to come from his mouth as the blond sat there in shocked stupor.  He found it hard to form a single coherent sentence.  “You’re not real,” he choked.

She raised an eyebrow.  “Does the vampire not believe in ghosts?  I’m more real than I was in your imagination.”

< So I did imagine her earlier.  Willow was right. >  “How do I know this is the real you?” Spike asked.  Life for him had become a chaotic mixture of reality and dream.  He no longer knew which was which.

“It doesn’t matter.  I’m inside you, dancing in your heart, talking in your head,” said Drusilla.  Then she got to the point and said the last thing he expected.  “You have to let me go, Spike.”

He stared at her in momentary shock, then shook his head slowly.  The words he didn’t want to hear.  “I can’t,” he whispered.  His eyes filled with unspent tears for his fallen beloved, but he held them in.

“You have to,” she told him.  Her voice was filled with anguish, her eyes filled with tears as well.  “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Spike.  Let me go.”

Again, Spike shook his head.  He tried to imagine his life without her, but couldn’t.  As he stared at the only person to ever truly love him, Spike could feel his heart breaking.  The pain of it was almost unbearable, like a stake through the heart, and he briefly wondered if he would turn to dust.  “I don’t know how to be without you.”

“You do, you will.  It’s right in front of you.”  Spike remained silent, unsure of how to react, what to say.  There was clarity in her black eyes that he had never seen before.  She gestured towards Willow as if changing the subject.  “You love her,” she repeated.

He glanced down at the redhead.  He still held Willow’s hand as if it were a lifeline to safety.  It was then that he realized the extent of his feelings for her.  He released her hand quickly, trying to convince not only Dru, but also himself of what he didn’t believe.  “No, I don’t, Dru.”  It wasn’t a lie.  He didn’t love the girl.  Not yet.  But he was damn close.

She nodded, her smile knowing, “You will.”

“How do you know such a thing, love?”

Drusilla gave him a sidelong glance.  “Even the dead can see what’s obvious.  She’s in your eyes, where I used to be.”

Spike shook his head vehemently and stood to face her, “No.  I could never-”

Drusilla cut him off gently.  “You can love her, Spike.  She needs you just as much as you need her.”  Spike gazed back at her with astonishment as she gently pushed him back onto his chair.  She reached her hand out to touch his cheek.  “Just don’t stop loving me, too.”

“I could never do that, Princess,” he said as he reached up and put his hand over hers.  She smiled sadly.

“Close your eyes,” she said softly.  He took one last look at her face, then hesitantly closed his vision off to the world.  All that he could hear was the sound of her voice whispering in his ear.  “I love you, Spike.  I’ll always love you.”

“And I, you, my love.”  He felt her lips against his for a moment, then his heart broke when she pulled away.  A tear slid down his cheek as he realized what was happening.  “Dru?” he called out hoarsely.

“Goodbye, Spike.”  His eyes fluttered open to find the room empty.  Spike sat in shocked silence, letting the pain fill his heart once more.  He sighed -letting the air fill his lungs completely- an act he had not done in a very long time.  Then, he began to nod as realization swept over him.

He would live without her.

Spike turned back to the copper-haired girl that lay on the bed.  He expected to find her still asleep, dreaming peacefully.  Instead, his eyes connected with hers.  The corners of his mouth turned up into a sad smile.

It seemed he would love without her, as well.

Part 12
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