Just The Spell I: Buffy

It had all been the spell, right? Of course it had all been the spell.

Buffy restlessly ran her hand through her blond locks. She had been staring out the window of her dorm room for about thirty minutes now. It looked nice out. The late evening sun swathed the campus in a golden glow, bestowing long shadows on the passers-by. Students, on their way home or to the nth Porter dorm party. What would he be doing now? Probably sat chained in Giles’ bath tub again, nagging that he wanted to see Passions or some other lame soap. Annoying vampire.

He’d been an incredible kisser, though.

“Bad thought!” Buffy mentally slapped herself. Okay, so the kissing hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. That was the spell, too, making her like it. Because kissing Spike... “Kissing Spike is gross,” Buffy said out loud. “And I’m so not trying to convince myself,” she told the tiny voice in the back of her mind that dared to say otherwise.

Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth.

It had sounded so real. Felt so real. Actually, it was the kind of proposal she would like to get for real someday. Spontaneous and sincere and earnest. Make me the happiest man on earth. That was sort of a romantic thing for someone to say. “Alright,” Buffy groaned inwardly as she did yet another concession to her inner voice, which for some reason just wouldn’t shut up tonight. “It’s very romantic.” She was surprised words like that had actually managed to come out of Spike’s big mouth. All the rest of their conversations while they were ‘engaged’ had not differed all that much from their usual banter, but that one sentence, those words... she had been unable to stop them from replaying over and over in her mind. It was not just the words, though. It was also the look in his eyes when he had spoke them. That look had been extremely un-Spike-like. Unless... unless there was a side to Spike that she just didn’t know. Yet.

Buffy shook her head resolutely. She did not just think that. No, those words, and that beautiful look of utter adoration in his eyes, mixed with sweet hope that she would say yes, all that had meant nothing. It was all the spell’s doing. His reaction after it was broken had proved that well enough.

Don't I get a cookie?

No.

Well, I gotta have something. I still have Buffy taste in my mouth.

You're a pig, Spike.

Trying so hard to mask the hurt. Why did he always have to be such an asshole?

So, yeah, she hoped for a proposal kind of like his someday, but from someone not a soulless psychopath vampire under a spell. Because all that with Spike, it had all been just that. Just the spell. Just like she really didn’t want Wind Beneath My Wings for the first dance. Really.

Why then was she still thinking about him? It had been two days.

And why, why were her hands playing with that ugly skull ring of his?

I want my ring back.

Sorry, lost it in the fight.

She had no idea why she had said it. Why she had kept it. The words had just rolled out of her mouth, unstoppable, while her fingers tightened around the silver trinket in her pocket. Buffy tore her gaze away from the campus view and looked down at the ring in her left hand. With her right index finger she traced the rigid lines and curves of the skull on it. Bumpy, just like him when he got fangy. She should throw the ring away. No use keeping it. And it really was ugly. What on earth had made him think this was suitable wedding ring, anyway?

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Tried to ignore the warm happy feeling in her heart that made her feel like skipping and dancing and doing idiotic things. Stupid vampire. She should really throw that ring away. She got up and took a hesitant step in the direction of the trash can. Then she stopped. “Maybe tomorrow,” Buffy thought, as she slipped the ring back into her pocket.


TBC...