URL: http://mitglied.lycos.de/dwawards/Lady1.htm
Rating: G
Pairing: W/S
Discl: Characters owned by Joss n Co, plot by me. Song is by Incubus, "Mexico"
Authors Note: I wrote this after a very very long argument. The song was playing, the muse kicked me in the shins. Badda bing. We got ficlet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You could see me reaching
So why couldn't you have met me half way?
You could see me bleeding
And you would not put pressure on the wound."
The singer knew what he was talking about. Only a bloke that had his heart broken, stomped upon, and regurgitated back at him could sing lyrics like that. Spike knew how the singer felt. He tilted his head, listening to the repeating guitar chords, humming along.
She had only thought about herself, even as she saw him reaching for salvation, even as she saw him needing help, needing her.
****
"You only think about yourself...
You only think about yourself...
You better bend before I go
on the first train to Mexico."
The girl, now woman, closed her eyes as the song continued. If only running away would work, though, it was the only thing that she hadn't tried. Witchcraft backfired on her it seemed, and ending the world wasn't exactly popular. Willow knew who only thought about herself, and she knew that the woman would never bend, even if the redhead dissapeared.
She had never knelt over to hold her when she was in the darkness of her own soul, she had never bent to pull her up, and never would lower herself to be the best friend she was supposed to be.
****
"You could see me breathing
And you still kept your hand over my mouth.
You could feel me seething
But you just turned your nose up in the air"
Spike cursed. She had never once saw him for what he was, and she had never once cared for his feelings.
Willow silently sighed. She had turned away when Willow had been at her worst, had ignored her when she was needed the most, and silenced her when she should have listened.
Spike turned around at the bar, his eyes resting on the redhead that wasn't even two stools away from him. She was sipping a drink slowly, painfully, as if her throat was raw from pain, and her body eghausted from trying.
Willow felt someone's glance, and looked up, her eyes locked on Spike's. His shoulders were slumped, dejected, and his expression sallow, as if he was a cat that had been kicked by 'friendly' hands too many times.
"You only think about yourself...
You only think about yourself...
You better bend before I go
on the first train to Mexico."
"She only thought about herself." Willow murmured, knowing that he would understand.
"We were the ones suffocating, bleeding, bending." Spike agreed.
"She doesn't know." Willow started.
"We're already gone." Spike finished.
They stared at each other for a moment more, and Spike sat down next to the witch.
"Mexico." They said simultaneously.
The End