Spike with a soul was something she had not expected to see in a million years- and Harmony fully expected to live that long. Incorporeal, un-huggable, un-fuckable Spike was simply torture. And if it hadn’t been for that damned vampire’s ability to just smile at her a certain way and make her melt all over, she might not have forgiven him for the zillionth time. He didn’t ask for her back, obviously. He would have been a bore of a boyfriend in the state he was in. She wished he had asked, all the same. He had been stand-offish those first few days. Basically, had ignored her. But he was confused, distracted. And Angel had a way of putting him in a really bad mood. But eventually, he smiled at her. They chatted about this and that. She told him about the stupid pyramid scheme that she had been pulled into, and how after meeting this strange vamp named Cyril in Denver, she had started on the human-free diet, and made a life for herself in the world of the living. Well sort of.
Fred had found a way to keep him from randomly disappearing. But they had to deal with the other problem separately. When they had finally gathered all the material for the spell, she let herself believe. She had learned to doubt, to be cynical. She wouldn’t let herself be disappointed. The Harmony of a few years ago would have been baking a cake and choosing a theme for Spike’s welcome back to the world of solidity party as soon as the word “cure” escaped Wesley’s vocal chords. But she was different now. Mature. Jaded. Still a bright, bubbly, pouty little girl in many ways. But she knew how to take care of herself, knew how to keep herself from getting carried away.
And now she was in Angel’s office, kneeling on a circle of salt, watching her ex-boyfriend writhe around helplessly in the air, suspended, as he hopefully regained a physical presence in this plane of existence. Angel, Wesley, and Fred occupied the other three points on the circle surrounding the levitating Spike, their faces lit only by the candles in front of each of them. After a few minutes passed, the room turned silent. Spike’s growling had ceased. With a thud, he dropped to the floor, curled into a ball like a traumatized child, and quivered.
“Spike?” she whispered as she inched towards him on her knees.
He had confided in her, earlier that day, about the aching. It had been over a month since he had touched anything. And he had said that to be honest, it wasn’t things he missed touching so much as people. Even the colder kind of people. And Harmony had taken that to mean her, specifically. His heart didn’t beat. It wasn’t even solid. But it ached. He ached. She could see it in his eyes.
She approached him slowly, like one would a strange and beautiful animal, her arm outstretched. The others looked on with fascination, and didn’t move or speak. They knew that this just felt right somehow. Since Spike had first appeared in front of him, Angel couldn’t shut up about how much he wanted him gone. Now, though, with his Grand-childe lying on the floor a few feet away, and Harmony moving towards him, her hand shaking in anticipation, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
When it had come time to prepare the spell, Harmony had insisted on taking part. Beside Angel, she was the only person among them Spike knew very well. And she was pretty much the only person who liked him, or at least admitted it. She wouldn’t let him go through this without a friend. Spike and Gunn had argued with her, told her it could be dangerous, that spells often backfire. She wasn’t scared. She was a vampire, for Christ’s sake. Not as if danger was some new thing to her. She would manage just fine. It was Spike she was worried about.
If she had needed to breathe, she would have been holding it. Her fingers were inches away from Spike’s shoulder. They hovered over him as he trembled furiously, unsure of where to land. What if her hand passed through him? What if the spell hadn’t worked? She longed to feel his arms around her, to feel his cool tongue slide through her mouth. She couldn’t take seeing him almost every day, and never being able to make physical contact. She had to . . .
“It worked.” Harmony’s hand came down on his back, quelling his shakes, if only for a moment. As he rolled over onto his knees, her hand traveled across his body like a cloud across the sky, and found it’s way to his hand. Spike raised his bowed head slowly and looked at her in awe and disbelief, and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. As he looked down at his hand inside hers, his facial expression changed gradually from disbelief to relief. He pulled her towards him with the hand she had given him, and collided with her middle, nearly knocking her over. His arms wrapped themselves around her waist, and she held him as tightly as she could.
“Please don’t let go,” he whispered to her between sobs.
“You’re here now Spikey. You’re really here.”
She held onto him for a long time. At some point she realized they were alone in Angel’s office now. Angel, Fred and Wesley had slipped out at some point, unnoticed by the two ex-lovers tangled in each others embraces. Once he stopped shaking (the process of regaining a body was apparently pretty traumatic), he sat up to face Harmony. They looked at each other’s tear-streaked faces, and drew their lips together.
They made love with fervor, completely uninhibited. He grasped and licked and bit her greedily, like it was his first and last time. She clung to him, pulled at his clothes, ripped his shirt, tugged his hair. They licked the blood off each other like it was fine wine, and said nothing that could be considered words. And when they were finished, and the wounds were starting to heal, she took him into her arms again.
“Harm, that . . . that was . . . I had forgotten . . .” he said quietly.
“Forgotten what, Blondie Bear?” she replied casually, as if all had gone according to plan.
“What it means to be wanted like that. I’ve been on the wrong bloody end for too long.”
“You mean with the Slayer,” Harmony said coldly.
“She weren’t no good for me luv.”
“I think I understand how you feel,” she said, revealing everything with the saddened look on her face. “She was there for you sometimes? Said a few nice things about you? Even stood up for you once in a while? But there was always a part of her you knew you would never have. And a part of her that would drop you in an instant, given the right circumstances.” She bowed her head shamefully, knowing he was smart enough to catch on. “And no matter what she does, how much she hurts you, you will always be there for here, and you will always have that stupid, wrong, very wrong voice in the back of your head saying ‘one day, maybe one day she’ll love me as much as I love him. Her.’”
Even through all this talk, she had not let go of him. He took her arms, and gently released himself from her. They stood up together in the middle of the salt circle, and she took his hand and kissed it sweetly. “Are you okay?” she asked with no less genuine concern and affection than any souled person would have.
“Yeah. Thank you,” he replied, looking her in the eyes, and lowering his brow for emphasis. Then he gave her a hard, passionate kiss, turned around, and walked towards the door.
Wes, Fred and Angel were standing outside in the hallway, trying desperately to look casual as the door opened. Spike stepped out of the office, his shirt tattered, his hair mussed, and his eyes twinkling. Harmony lingered in the doorway, her clothes and hair in similar post-sex condition.
“Angel!” Spike exclaimed, stepping towards him.
“What?” he replied, looking up just in time to see Spike’s very corporeal fist collided into his face with a crunch, and knock him onto his ass.
“God, that feels good,” Spike said, holding his now sore knuckles. He turned and strode quickly towards the elevator. “I’m off to kill stuff. Don’t wait up.”
“I’m better at sex than Buffy.” Harmony said cheerfully, leaning on the archway. She revelled for a moment in the shocked and stupefied expressions on everyones faces. This was a good day.
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