Epiphany
Bit fairy tale-ish.
Buffy stood at the apartment door. “Hi Anya. Can I come in?”
The former demon scrutinized her. “That depends. Are you going to try and kill me?”
Buffy looked down at the hall carpet. “That was what I wanted to talk to you about. I thought I was doing the right thing. Willow found a better way.” She looked up at Anya. “And then, when you were willing to let D’Hoffryn kill you to take the wish back...Well, anyway, I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Well. That can’t be easy for you.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.”
When Anya went into her kitchen to make coffee, Buffy sat down on the couch. “I really am sorry,” she called. “About your friend Hallie. And the sword. That must have hurt.”
Anya carried in two steaming mugs. “And I’m sure that none of it had anything to do with my sleeping with Spike. Sugar?”
“Just a little cream. And no, nothing to do with Spike. I’m totally over with him.”
Anya carried out the cream and sugar dispensers. “Really? And how is he? Still crazy?”
“Pretty much. In the basement. I can’t get him out.”
“And I’m sure you’ve tried so hard. Cookie? And how’s his soul?”
Buffy choked on her coffee. “You know? He told you?”
“Told me.” Anya laughed. “Freaked out that I knew. Punched me to keep me from telling. Do you know how he got it?”
“He didn’t really say. Said he got it because of me. So I could forgive him, or love him, or something.”
Anya nodded. “That makes sense. You really should, you know. Love him. That’s an exceptional soul he has. Very bright. I doubt you could do better.”
Buffy walked through the basement, looking for him. He was sitting in his customary position against the wall, mumbling to himself. She stopped at his feet. “Spike?” she said, her voice gentle.
“Oh, you again. Melt away now. Save you the trouble later. I’m tired of it.”
She knelt down beside him. “Spike, I need to talk to you. Listen to me. You have to get out of here.”
“Heard that the last time. Thought you wanted me to stay. This is where you want me. Make up your mind.” He cocked his head to one side. “You’re Buffy a lot lately. Where’s Dru?”
She shook her head. “How the hell can I get through to you?” Looking down at his pained expression, his torment all for her, she acted without thinking. Tipping his head up with her fingertip, she pressed her lips to his. She pulled away and whispered, “I forgive you.”
And the veil was lifted. He looked up at her, eyes clear and mind lucid. “Buffy? What am I doing here? And where is here?” He looked around the darkened room. “I don’t understand. And what’s that horrible smell?” He grimaced as realization dawned. “Oh, god, it’s me.”
Buffy laughed and threw her arms around him. “Welcome home, Spike.”