rating: PG 13, angst, heartache
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Distribution: any lists that I send this to, WLS, QPC, Bite Me, Cat, Feen, Soulmates, WWW - anyone else please ask
note: set in AU season 6. Parts of this story overlap #9, but this is told from Willow's PoV.
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Morning eventually rolled in, and Willow found herself awake, hungry and sore eyed from all that weeping. More tears over Spike... She'd been almost done with crying over him, until he'd shown up. Hope flickered, as Willow remembered his words - he'd said he had been an idiot, and he was sorry. That didn't sound like he was just bored.
Despite the warm feeling the idea gave, she was still angry over the whole disaster of Sunnydale. Spike and Buffy - the image had burned itself into her memory, and it would take more than him showing up looking all sexy and smiling at her. No, he'd have some serious work ahead of him. And how did he even find her?
Frustrated with the tangle of her thoughts, Willow decided to have a shower, and then breakfast before calling Xander with a few questions, like did he give her location away to that... to Spike. She loved Spike still, even after, but love wasn't the same as trust, and a relationship required both. If he'd found her on his own, then... Well, she wasn't quite sure what it meant, but it was different than if he'd just been given an address and dropped over.
She'd only just gone to the little kitchen area to consider what she had available when there was a knock at the door. Peeking through the little spy hole, Willow discovered that it was a deliveryman. More specifically, it was a flower deliveryman, with a dozen red roses for her.
Red roses... they were pretty, but so entirely traditional. Didn't every movie and television have all the guys sending red roses to the women in their lives? All the women, any woman. She'd always preferred white ones anyhow, or those sort of peach colored ones. Shouldn't he know that, remember that about her?
Buffy had loved red roses. When that floated to her awareness, Willow could barely keep from screaming, and settled for hurling the flowers out the window. Who needed red roses anyhow?
She kept the card though.
It was later that she called Xander, having remembered the time difference. He probably wouldn't have appreciated getting a call when he was trying to get ready for work? She felt off balance and unsettled the whole day, wondering about Spike, and the flowers, and what he had meant and intended.
Finally, she figured that it would be a good time to call Xander, and slowly punched in the numbers to ring his house. The phone rang, and she sat down, suddenly feeling nervous.
:Hello? We don't need to buy anything, and we can't afford to give any money to charity, so...: Anya's unmistakable voice sounded a rather cranky.
"Hey Anya. I hope I wasn't interrupting anything. umm.... Could I talk to Xander?" Willow wondered what had her best friend's girlfriend so upset.
:Willow, I'd say of course, but he's not home just yet. How's everything going for you?: Anya sounded a little less angry, so Willow assumed that she probably wasn't the source of the annoyance.
"Everything's... well, it's going. Classes are about how I'd expected, the apartment is smaller than the one in Sunnydale... and oh yeah, Spike showed up last night." Willow sighed, rubbing at her temple.
:Spike? You mean... Well, I had wondered what happened to him.: Anya sounded almost thoughtful now. :Maybe he's not quite as dumb as Xander keeps saying he looks.:
"What do you mean, what had happened to him?" Willow wondered if maybe the answer would be some clue to how to react.
:He left Sunnydale over a month ago. He was just gone, along with some things, so we knew that he wasn't dead.: There was a pause, and in a softer voice, Anya continued. :He'd been absolutely miserable looking before that, which I thought was entirely fitting and proper.:
"How's everybody else? You and Xander, Giles... I miss you." Willow leaned back in her chair, curling her feet under her.
:Giles is annoyed at life, and he keeps yelling at the computer. Xander's job is going well, and they've been very busy. That's good for his career, but it makes it harder to cuddle up with him. And Sunnydale's greatest bitch is suffering from an itching burning rash, a bleeding ulcer, abdominal cramps, and frizzy hair. She's a bit more resistant to the level of magic that I have now, unfortunately.: Anya sounded annoyed again. :She keeps going on about how you were just over reacting, and how nobody should have been surprised. I'm a bit curious why you didn't just kill her and be done with it.:
"I didn't know if I would stop if I did. The whole world isn't a fair price for getting rid of her." Willow shook her head, and then considered one of the things that Anya had said. "Frizzy hair?"
:Hit where it hurts - she's got a bit of a vain streak.: Anya was caught between gloating and hopeful.
"I guess so. It's just... nothing will ever be the same again. There was something, more than trust, and she broke it. Maybe I shouldn't have brought her back, maybe things would have been better if she'd just stayed dead." Willow sighed, her eyes flickering to the little envelope that had been with the roses. Maybe she should read the card? Her fingers reached out, brushing the surface, before she pulled them back again. Whatever he'd wrote could wait a little longer.
There was a sound from the phone, as if a door had been shut, and then Xander's voice came across. :Willow! How are you? Wait, Anya probably asked that already. Nothing's wrong, is it?:
"I'm not sure. What I am sure of is that everything's been knocked off balance again. Want to take a guess who showed up here last night?" Willow could feel her mood improving as she talked to Xander.
:Spike's there in Connecticut? What... how?: Xander's shock was evident.
"Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. I was on my way out of class and there he was." Willow was letting her fingers trace patterns over the arm of the chair, thinking about everything. "He made it sound... I think he might be trying to win me back."
:Will you take him back?: Xander sounded worried.
"I... I really don't know. I love him, but he hurt me once, in Sunnydale. How can I know that he won't do it again? How can I be sure that he really wants me, and isn't just settling because I can accept the vampire and the man and the chip?" Willow shook her head, trying to push her questions down again. "What I can be certain of is that him showing up like that has shaken everything up."
:If he sounds sincere, you might want to think about giving him a second chance. Anya's suggesting truth spells, or slow dismemberment if he screws up again. And if he sounds likely to do anything like this again, beat him to death with a shovel. Or I can come out and do it for you.: Xander offered the words slowly, obviously wanting her to be happy and uncertain just how that would happen.
"Xander, that's really sweet of you to offer. Hopefully, it won't be necessary." Willow found herself smiling as things moved to less serious matters, like the new jokes that Xander had heard, and a couple stories about his job that were clearly intended to distract her.
After she'd put the phone down, Willow looked at the envelope again. There was no reason not to read it now, and she was rather curious. Slowly, she lifted it up, and slid it open with trembling fingers. It held only three short words 'I'm Sorry - Spike' but the message was clear. Spike had found her in order to try to fix things, to win her back. It still didn't quite tell her if he wanted her for Willow or just as someone who could accept him and wouldn't be repulsed by the vampire or the chip, but it was something to know.
The question of his motivation and if she should give him a second chance danced in her mind the next day. She was supposed to be focusing on circular functions, and the measurements of angles, but part of her mind was still on Spike. She loved him, and she still dreamed of him holding her close, but that horrible image of him and Buffy kept her from just opening her arms and welcoming him back into her life. Could she trust him? Could she survive it if the answer was no? Could she live with the chance that the answer would have been 'yes' if she just walked away now?
Maybe she should see if he was wiling to try more than roses to get her to listen? If he wasn't willing to work a little to apologize, then he wouldn't be willing to work at a relationship. If he hadn't learned anything about what she liked in the months that they'd been together, then he wasn't worth the heartache anyhow.
The next day, the flower deliveryman was back. He had a colorful bouquet of mixed flowers around a pair of beautiful tiger lilies. She smiled this time, and carefully placed them on her table. The note read 'I'm sorry – let me tell you in person? S.'
He'd sent her tiger lilies, which had always been one of her favorites. Had he remembered that, or was it just a lucky coincidence? She wanted so badly to believe that they'd had something special, that he wanted her back because he'd missed her and cared for her, that he could love her like she loved him. But she was afraid that her love would cause her to do something stupid, and lead to her getting hurt again. Even as she doubted, she felt some of her resolve melting away. Maybe she would see what he had to say, maybe she should listen to him in person? Wasn't it far more difficult to lie face to face anyhow?
The next day, she opened the door in the morning to find a box sitting there, taped shut. There was something scrawled on it in Spike's familiar handwriting, although she couldn't read it with the angle the box was at. Her heart had sped up as she lifted the box and carried it inside. Once at a proper angle, she could read the words `For you, to keep you warm and safe.' Carefully, she opened the box, her mind almost refusing to process that the revealed whiteness was several crinkled sheets of tissue paper. Underneath was a deep green leather coat, with golden threads shimmering in subtle patterns, and a soft golden lining as well.
She couldn't resist trying it on immediately. The lining felt cool and almost sensual over her skin, reminding her of Spike's fingers, and the fit was just the way she liked it – loose enough for a sweater if she wanted, but not too baggy. She lifted the box again, holding it up in a moment of wonder. Where had he found this lovely coat? How much had it cost him to give her this? The coat was so perfect that she couldn't keep herself from grinning in delighted appreciation. Spike was definitely making an effort.
The next day there was a small box, with a fluffy little toy calico cat wearing a big green bow. There wasn't a note with it, but she had no question who had sent it. The gift had her smiling, and she was almost happy as she made her way around the campus. He'd given her a little kitty, something so soft and huggable and utterly… well, non-guy like that it just made her smile and sigh.
Lee even agreed that it was a sweet gesture, although she'd also added that `Sweet gestures don't mean that he'll treat you right if you take him back. Just that he wants you to.'
Willow had just nodded, knowing that Lee was right. It was a bit of a question just what had made Lee so distrustful of so many men. She almost reminded Willow of Faith with the way she acted – full of flirtations, but not willing to let any of the guys that she dated get close emotionally. Had she just seen too many guys that only wanted to play, or had she been hurt at love before?
Willow had forced herself to attend the small party held to celebrate the opening of a new exhibit at one of the campus art galleries, a display of woodcarvings and masks that had given her goose-bumps and flashbacks of that ancient mask that Joyce Summers had back in her senior year. But none of the things on display had carried even a flicker of magic, which made them safe. They were also interesting to look at. But the party hadn't really felt quite comfortable, and she'd eventually meandered her way outside.
The night air had felt cool, delightful after the stuffy party. She rambled along the sidewalk, letting herself relax and unwind, her senses flowing outwards as she looked up at the stars. They were so clear and sharp… No wonder people had looked to them for guidance for centuries, no wonder some people thought that they could speak. Willow sensed a cool knot of age and tension that carried a faint feel/flavor of blood – a vampire. Not precisely the first that she'd encountered since leaving California, but certainly the most controlled vampire aura that she'd run into.
Her spine prickled, and Willow turned to look at the vampire that she'd felt. He stood there, his pale hair glimmering in the moonlight, looking perfect and wonderful and so appealing. She wanted to fling herself in his arms and never let go, but still she held back, wary of another betrayal. "Spike." Pausing, she, looked at him, wondering what he'd been doing out here. "Thank you for the coat."
He looked at her, his lips curving into a nervous smile. "Red… Willow." He moved closer, his hand half raising, and his eyes filled with so much passion and what looked like longing and sorrow and need that it almost hurt. In a near pleading tone, the words emerged, carrying just far enough to reach her ears. "Can we talk? Please?"
She looked at him, realizing that he really did look thinner than in Sunnydale. And his eyes were focused on her with so much intensity, more than she could easily recall him ever looking at her. It made her feel like she was somehow the most important person on the whole planet, at least to Spike. That took a level of intensity and devotion that only a master actor would be able to fake. She wanted to believe that it was real, that he really cared and wanted her back for herself. That they might be able to have a future. What to do? Should she take the risk of him shattering what was left of her heart, or push him away?
After a deep breath, Willow offered a tiny smile, and a couple soft words. "I think that might be good."
But he wouldn't be getting an invitation to her apartment, to her bed nearly that easily. They could talk over coffee at one of the nearby places. And if she liked what he had to say... Well, she'd give him a chance to talk.
The End