Willow let herself into the apartment, surprised
that she didn't hear the stereo playing loudly. She locked the door and
started for her room, relieved when it appeared that Spike was nowhere
to be found. She walked into her room, stopping in surprise. Spike was
laying on her bed, his head resting on her pillows, his eyes shut. The
bottle of love potion was laying beside him, empty. She moved towards it,
picking it up and looking at it with a mixture of sadness and anger. He'd
been in her room, drank her entire bottle of potion and was now sleeping
in her bed. She knew she couldn't get him to move and wasn't really in
a mood to wake him up, so she grabbed her sleeping shirt and went into
his room, deciding that she would use his empty bed.
She changed quickly, still unsure how she felt
about the potion being gone. She moved his covers, crawling underneath
them as she lay down. She inhaled deeply, her body reacting to the scent
of Spike that now surrounded her. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she
debated. Maybe facing him would have been better than trying to sleep with
the feel of him all around her. The potion was gone. The decision on whether
or not to continue taking it had been removed from her. She could find
out if her reaction to Spike was just because of that silly potion or because
she, like Buffy had suggested, had really been in love with him all along.
She wondered if the potion would have an affect on him, since he had finished
off the entire bottle minus the two small doses she had taken. Dare she
hope that he would have a reverse reaction to it, falling out of love instead
of finding it.
Her fingers played with the cuff of the silk shirt
as she lay there, snuggled under his covers. Buffy seemed convinced that
Spike had feelings for her. Why, then, had she never seen them? She'd been
the one living with him all this time. The one that should have seen love
if it had been there. Of course, she thought wryly, it didn't appear that
she had seen her own feelings so how could she have noticed his? If he
did love her, why, then, wouldn't he have just told her? Spike wasn't the
secretive type, not when it came to something like that. He also wasn't
the patient type. There was no way he would have sat around having feelings
for her without doing something. She just couldn't see that happening.
"You're back."
The words were spoken softly from the door, drawing
Willow from her thoughts. She sat up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness
as she made out his shadow. "You were in my bed. Um, that's why I came
in here."
"I was waiting for you. Guess I fell asleep,"
he admitted sheepishly, running a hand through his short hair before he
turned on the light. He felt himself harden when he looked at her, laying
in his bed, the blue silk shirt she was wearing hanging off her shoulder,
the buttons low enough to see the top of the soft swell of her breasts.
Her hair was loose, hanging around her face as she looked at him.
"I didn't want to wake you," she said quietly,
her fingers pulling at a thread on his blanket. "You looked tired."
He sighed, his eyes finding the empty bottle he
had drunk. He gestured to it, "I drank your water. I shouldn't have, but
I'll buy you some more."
"Water?" she said, looking at the bottle. She
felt her face flush as she shook her head, "It wasn't water."
"Yes, it was," he frowned.
"No, it was a potion that some gypsy gave me,"
she said, feeling even more foolish.
"Red, it was water," he said slowly, wondering
what sort of potion she would have been taking. "It was colored real pretty,
but it was just water."
"You must be wrong," she shook her head, denying
it, "she said it was a love potion, damn it. I've been having all these
strange feelings since I drank it. It has to be because of the potion."
"Why the hell were you taking some love potion?"
he demanded, looking at her in surprise.
"I didn't ask for it. She gave it to me. Swore
that it make me see my true love," Willow said bitterly. "It was just water?
All this time, I thought it was some drug making me feel these things.
It was just water."
"Feel what things?" he asked quietly, his eyes
watching her.
"Weird things," she exclaimed, angry at herself
for having believed the potion might actually work and also angry at that
damn Madame Ruth for giving her so many false hopes. "I honestly thought
I was going to find my true love, that I was going to actually have someone
to love, that someone would love me. I thought it was the potion making
me feel things for you, making me want you, making me love you."
"Some stupid bottle of liquid can't make people
fall in love, pet," he said, his tone cautious, not sure what she was saying.
"Then why?" she looked at him, her lower lip wobbling,
"Why does it hurt me so much that you're in love? Why do I feel like someone
is tearing my heart in half?"
"I love you," he said softly, watching her eyes
widen.
"No," she shook her head. "It has to be the potion
talking."
"There was no potion, Willow," he said, groaning.
"I've loved you for months, hell, years, long before I drank that damn
purple water. I was trying to tell you tonight, before you got into your
snit and ran to the slayer."
"I was not in a snit," she denied before stopping,
staring at him, "You really love me?"
"Haven't you been listening?" he asked, laughing
softly. "I've just been trying to tell you that for the last ten minutes."
"Oh," she smiled shyly, "I think I love you too."