Part 1
TITLE: Reconstruction
AUTHOR: Wordsmith
RATING: NC17 (eventually)
PAIRING: Spike/Xander (eventually)
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no malice, no money.
SPOILERS: Up to ‘The Gift’
WARNING: First fan fiction, first slash, might suck. Unbetaed.
ARCHIVE: To the list it’s posted on, and anyone who has asked already. Other than that just ask, if nothing else you stun me with the offer. You may want to wait until it is finished. I’m not known for my follow through.
She’d said yes. She’d said yes, when alone together, dreading the inevitable
he’d stammered out he graceless proposal. It hadn’t been how he planned it.
He knew better that to wait for the perfect moment. Life on the Hellmouth
had taught him, love and the people you love were too important to wait for
everything to be perfect to tell them how you felt. But he had hoped for a
lull in the action, maybe not moonlight and roses but some breathing space,
just a spot of serenity, without a hell god trying, not only to kill them
but also to destroy the world. Lately with Glory and Dawn and, oh God Joyce,
and hadn’t he tried to explain looking into Anya’s troubled eyes, that no
there isn’t a handbook on life; not knowing what to do, not knowing what to
say, not knowing how to feel, feeling too much, feeling your not feeling
enough, being confused, being frustrated, desperate to hold on but afraid to
want, need, love because it slips away, people slip away like sand gripped
in a tightly fisted hand, but he couldn‘t. Couldn‘t find the words. Couldn‘t
voice his thoughts. So he held her, trying with his body to say all the
things he wanted to say. Say he needed her. That she wasn’t the only one who
was confused, scared, doubting life, fighting the persistent slid into
inertia, which seemed to embrace every adult he knew.
They had all been going full tilt. Every since Glory, first kicked Buffy’s
ass with her size six designer stilettos, they hadn’t marshaled a single
offensive move. They’d lost ground length by length. Glory had confronted
Buffy in her own house, and they had actually packed up and ran, not that it
had done any good. Glory had Dawn, and desperately, grasping at straws they
had thrown everything they had at her. The seven of them, who stumbled into
the magic shop in the gray morning light, were as much in shock at being
alive and that there was still a world to be on as they were at the loss of
the slayer. Spike has ceased sobbing, and hadn’t that been disturbing.
Xander wasn’t sure if he was bothered more by the sight of one of the
fiercest creatures he knew being wracked by open and obvious grief or the
guilt he felt for the way he had interpreted the nature and depth of the
vampires feeling for Buffy. Dawn, still in her sacrificial wear, looked like
an enchanted princess in a fairy tale. She sat in one of the chairs at the
research table, remote and unmoving, her eyes focused on nothing as tears
streamed down her face. She was eerily quiet, not a sob or sniffle, breaking
her silent heartache. Willow fussed over Tara, and flitted about the room
checking on Giles and Dawn, anything to keep moving and to keep from
thinking about how much they had all lost.
Xander set Anya on the research table and knelt down in front of her. He
took her ankle in both hands. He was examining it for swelling when she
jerked it back and said, “No!”
“What? Honey, it’s sprained. We should...” he trailed off looking at her,
she was shaking her head from one side to another as she sobbed out another
soft ‘no’. He realized how he looked to her, on one knee. She thought he was
proposing again. But why didn’t that make her look happy, and why did she
say....
“No, Xander... I can’t. I know after the ascension, when I came
back.....I....” she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and looked away.
“Anya? Cupcake?” That usually made her laugh. They had watched an ‘Alley
McBeal’ episode where Ling had given her approval for pet names only if they
were based on food. He had spent the rest of that evening going through the
‘Hostess’ and ‘Dolly Madison’ product lines while he nibbled on Anya to make
her shriek and giggle.
“I...Xander....Buffy’s the slayer,....I’m not...I meant it you know, you
really are the best boyfriend.” She forced a smile while sniffing and
widening her eyes, in a failed attempt to stop her tears.
“You’re not making any sense. I don’t...” Before he could finish she stood,
favoring her bad ankle but looking up at him with her frank brown eyes,
which had always before grounded him but now just added to his confusion.
“I’m sorry. I.....I have to go” She left the shop, the bell ringing as she
exited.
He took a step to follow her, but stopped. It was daylight; she was safe.
This was all too much for him. He would give her time, and give himself
time. They could talk later. She would go home and take a shower, get some
sleep, and make more sense later. Right now, he should take care of his
friends. He smiled at the thought that the term friends now included Spike,
but if that was what Buffy wanted, well then so be it.
The smile felt unnatural on in face, in just the past hour the whole world,
his whole world had changed, and it would never be the same again. He hadn’t
felt this empty, this lost since Jesse died. When that had happened he had
had the luxury of disbelief. There had been someone to hold off the monsters
while he dealt with the consequences of a changed worldview. No more. Buffy
had been the guard at the gate, without her they were going to have to pull
themselves together and clean up Glory’s mess and patrol for the ususal
Hellmouth activity.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was late when he got home. He’d left Dawn with Giles. Giles, Willow and
he had talked quietly in the practice room while Tara tried to get Dawn to
drink some tea. She had said Dawn need something hot inside her to combat
the shock. Xander figured Tara knew what to do, but thought Spike quietly
taking Dawn’s hand and calling her ‘nibblet’ had more to do with stopping
the tears than the tea. He was exhausted. Being grown-up and discussing,
Dawn’s custody now that her only ‘relative’ was an absentee father, whom she
remembered but had never met, was not something for which he was prepared.
Another hushed conversation with Willow about how they were going to take
care of Giles and Spike, in the aftermath of losing Buffy, just made him
feel old. His apartment wasn’t overly large. It took only moments for him to
check every room and determine Anya wasn’t there. He really hadn’t expected
her to go to her place. He started to phone her, and then on second thought
picked his keys back up off the table and left.
Minuets later, he pulled into the parking lot of her building. Her car
wasn’t in it’s usual spot but he went up to her floor taking the stairs two
at a time. He let himself in and turned on the lights and quickly headed for
the bedroom. Drawers were open, the closet door wide and dark, the pictures
she kept on the dresser, all her make up and toilettes, everything gone. The
furniture was there, but all the personal items were missing. There was no
sign of a struggle. His heart was screaming that something had taken her.
Surprisingly his brain was calm and reasoned ‘you always knew this would
happen, she’s not a demon any more, no right thinking person would stay
here, and live this life.’
After pacing around the apartment and checking to see if there was any sign
of where she went, or at least a note or something, he stopped in the
kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He took out the carton of pineapple
juice and leaned back against the closed refrigerator door feeling numb. He
slid down to the floor, wishing he had the strength for tears, but so much
had happened he just couldn’t, couldn’t think, couldn’t cry, couldn’t
imagine the future without her. He shook the carton, removed the screw top
and drank straight out of it. He riffled though his pockets and pulled out
the ring. He had bought it the day after Riley left. All that time, carrying
it around, waiting for the world to be safe enough for two people to be in
love. He had daydreamed often about a simple ceremony, had planned to ask
Joyce if they could have it in her garden. He would ask Willow to stand up
for him. He figured Giles would walk Anya down the aisle, Buffy would be her
maid-of-honor, and Dawn could have been the flower girl. Everyone he loved
would have been part of the happiest day of his life. The tears finally
came.
Part 2
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