Lonely No More

Buffy looked around the room. "Are any more going to be popping in?"

"Any more?" he asked, confused.

"Your uh, relatives."

"Unless my Dad pops in—"

"Jesus," Buffy swore. "I got it! I've been set up. This is some kind of Candid
Camera thing, right? I mean, the show has been off the air for years, but
they're doing a return and—"she stopped when she noticed Spike shaking
his head slowly. "Damn."

She looked at him, gesturing weakly with her hand, "Go ahead, I'm
listening."

"This is hard."

"You're telling me," she snorted.

"Okay," he started and began pacing. "See, my uncle is—"

"The God Of Love, I got that part."

"So you believe?"

"I'm not sure what I believe. I've always thought of myself as somewhat
scientific. You know, needing concrete evidence to back things up."

"You can't really do that when matchmaking can you?"

She smiled at his astuteness. "No, you can't. That's more of a gut feeling."

"And what is your gut telling you now?"

She frowned, "Not a whole hell of a lot. It's kind of twisted in knots right
now."

"Buffy—" he said coming toward her.

"Don't," she said holding up her hand. "I'm just—God, Spike, it's not
everyday that you're told your boyfriend is immortal. Or that his uncle is
Eros. Or hey, that he wants you to be immortal too—"

"We can work around that. I'm willing to become human if you can't stand
the idea of becoming immortal."

"Such a giver," she quipped.

"I'm willing to do what it takes, Buffy."

"So you've said. So, let's say I believe in all this," she said gesturing toward
him. "Why are you here?"

"You see, I've been working for my uncle shooting arrows."

"Arrows? Oh. Yes, that's right. Eros shoots love arrows. Whomever gets hit
with the arrow falls instantly in love with their intended, right?"

"Right. It's not always easy though. Like you, we have to make sure that
the couple we're setting up is ready for the relationship with their soulmate.
We have to watch a lot of mortals stumbling around making bad choices for
themselves and then when they've had enough—and when we've had
enough of watching them suffer without their True Love-- we come in and
make the match. Sometimes we have to appeal to the other Gods now and
then too."

"Why?"

"Well, if say one person is in Detroit and the other is in California, we have
to sometimes move people around to be in the position to be with their soul
mate and get, well, shot. So, sometimes we have to speed up certain
processes to get them at the right place and time. Like say, a new job.
Sometimes it's something as simple as a vacation or business trip—or just
getting them down at the corner hot dog stand to meet their match."

"And here I thought it was all based on free will. You Gods have more say
in our lives than I thought."

"I'm not a God. I'm just a shooter. And there is free will Buffy. It's kind of
like . . . an intervention." His eyes lit up at the analogy. "Sometimes the
Gods have to step in and help now and again; especially when a mortal is
asking for help and needs direction. They like mortals to help themselves,
but sometimes they need a little shove in the right direction. It's the whole
basis for faith isn't it? To believe in something greater than yourself and to
be able to lean on that for direction when you need it?"

"Yes, you're absolutely right," Buffy said and sat down on the bed
wondering where her beliefs lied at the moment.

"And the business of love is the hardest task of them all." He sat down next
to her. "My friend Angel told me before I left that making matches wasn't
easy and I thought he was full of it. I wanted to be like my Dad and be able
to make the matches."

"Your dad works for Eros too?"

Spike nodded. "Those who work for my uncle start off as shooters and work
their way up to matchmakers. My Dad expressed an interest when he
became immortal for my mother—"

"Your FATHER was MORTAL?" Her eyebrows flew off her head.

"Yes. My mother saw him in a crystal ball and fell instantly in love with
him. She came down to Earth and pretended she was mortal. They fell in
love and she told him the truth. He was much like you in being a little
wary—"

"Little?"

Spike smiled, "Okay, a lot. But he eventually believed in her and he told her
that he'd do whatever he could to be with her and she made the pledge to
her sister—"

"Psyche?"

Spike nodded, "Yes, my aunt. Psyche spoke with Eros and, well, here I am."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No, it's just me. So far anyway. My Dad's been wanting more lately. He
said he's working on my mother."

"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but how old is your dad?"

"Oh, he's not that old. He's one hundred and forty-five. Though he doesn't
look a day over forty."

"He was forty when your mom met him?"

Spike nodded.

"So he's been immortal for one hundred and five years?"

"Yes."

"And how does he like it?"

"He loves it. He says he's never felt better. He loves to watch the world
progress; he's very scientific like you."

"I bet."

"He gets a kick out of helping some of the Gods lend a hand in guiding
humans to make inventions and discoveries. And, at the same time, he
keeps a lot of his mortal qualities. I learned to cook from him. I learned
about the world not only from watching it, but from him. He felt it
important to teach me about it. He figured if I'm going to one day make
matches, I needed to know what humans were like and what the world
consisted of. It's not wise to be part of helping the human world and not
know anything about it."

"I can only imagine," Buffy murmured and lay back on the bed, pinching
the bridge of her nose. "So, you've been unhappy shooting arrows.""Yes. I
wanted to just hurry up and make matches. My friend Angel—"

"Actual Angel?"

"No. His mother is Iris; he works for her."

"Refresh my memory."

"Goddess of the Rainbow. She's a messenger namely to Zeus and Hera.
She's very kind and gentle. Everyone loves her because she has such a
gentle, understanding nature. I personally think Angel would be great at
matchmaking but he loves what he does for his mother. That day before I
came to you, I was telling him that I wanted to find someone for myself. I
was going through a bit of a dry spell," he admitted sheepishly.

Buffy couldn't help it. She laughed and sat up. "Your uncle is the God of
Love and you were going through a dry spell. Come on, you're pulling my
leg."

He looked at her indignantly, "I am not pulling your leg. I . . . I wasn't
happy with anyone on Olympus."

"You're surrounded by Goddesses!"

He shook his head, "Not for me, Buffy. Being involved with a God is not all
its cracked up to be. They're very busy and can sometimes come off as a
little self absorbed because of it."

"Oh," Buffy said, slightly disoriented.

"Very high maintenance, but that's just between you and me," he grinned
and nudged her with his elbow.

"Of course."

"I confided to Angel that day that I wanted to come to Earth the way my
Mom had and find a mortal like she had found my Dad. I was feeling
restless about not being able to have someone of my own and I was
convinced that the one I was meant for was not on Olympus," he said
pointedly, his eyes boring into hers.

She gulped. "Oh?"

"I was restless with everything. With not being able to make matches, with
not having someone to call my own," he took on a faraway expression,
remembering. "And Angel told me relationships were hard work. That
making matches wasn't just about putting two people together and
shooting. He said it was easy to fall in love, but not to stay in love. He was
going on about how you had to take in account friendship, compatibility,
and passion. He said it wasn't all cut and dry and I was so convinced that it
was." He shook his head. "Then I met you and saw how much work you put
into making matches and realized he was right."

"Get to HOW you met me, please."

Spike took a deep breath. "Right. So, Eros asked to see me and when I did,
he told me about you."

She pointed at herself, "Me?" she squeaked.

He smiled softly, "Yes, you. He'd taken notice of your work, Buffy. He was
impressed by you."

"Eros was impressed by ME?" she looked incredulous.

"Very impressed by you. However—"

"Here it comes," she said dryly.

"He'd taken notice that you were going through a dry spell of your own."

Buffy closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed. "Must have been pretty
bad for a God to notice."

"You're in the business of love, Buffy, how could he not notice?"

She turned her head slightly and looked at him." But he did like my work
until then?"

Spike nodded, "LOVED your work. You were helping us, Buffy."

"Wow," she breathed. She sat back up. "So then, if you weren't making
matches, then how come he sent you to me?"

Spike smiled softly, "I think he wanted to teach me what Angel had been
trying to tell me. My uncle is perceptive; I think he knew how restless I
was feeling. I think he figured we could help each other with making
matches. I'd always been the impulsive, follow my gut type and you . . . you
aren't. Put us together and, as Willow said, we make a great team."

She nodded slowly. "Until you had to leave that is."

His smile dropped. "I suppose that was the plan."

"You suppose it was? Of course it was. He surely hadn't expected you to
stay here forever."

"Well, I put a wrench in his plan didn't I? I fell in love with you."

Buffy sighed heavily and got up from the bed, running a hand through her
hair. "I'm feeling . . . invaded."

"Invaded?"

"Played with might be a better term. Eros, the God of Love, sends you to
me to help my failing business and then he planned for you to leave. You're
saying he put me with you to teach you about the complexity of human
relationships and to help me follow my gut again. He knew we'd make a
great--" She stopped abruptly and her eyes narrowed. Spike's eyes
widened and he bolted up from the bed. Spinning on heel, she stalked to the
door and flung it open.

Spike was on her heels. He moved quickly around Buffy and stood before
his uncle who had been watching TV with his mother. Eros, noticing the
urgency on Spike's face stood, a small smile curling his lips.

"You set us up, didn't you?" Spike demanded. "Buffy's my match isn't
she?"