"Will," Buffy turned onto her side as she heard the
redhead slipping quietly out of bed. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know," she answered softly. "Nothing."
"Can't sleep?"
"I'm restless," she shrugged in the dark and fished
around in the dresser for a pair of sweatpants and an
oversized t-shirt.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm just going to take a walk."
"I'll go with you," Buffy offered and sat up.
"No, I'll be okay. Go back to sleep."
"Willow, it isn't safe--"
The redhead shoved her sockless feet into her
sneakers, "I won't go far. I'll stay close to the
dorm. I just need some air."
The slayer blinked against the light that filtered
into the room as her friend opened the door just
enough to slip out. She glanced at her alarm
clock--two in the morning--and stumbled out of bed to
reach for the phone.
***
"Do you have any idea what the moonlight does to your
hair?"
Willow jumped in surprise at the familiar, but
unexpected, voice and turned her head toward the
approaching vampire. Spike returned her easy smile and
sat down beside her on the bench outside the dorm.
"What are you doing here?"
"Would you believe, looking for a midnight snack?" he
tried.
"No," she laughed softly. "First of all, it isn't
midnight, and second of all, you don't snack,
anymore."
"Details, details," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Okay,
I was just out for a stroll? Would you buy that?"
"Maybe," she answered.
"Good. We'll go with that, then. So, what's your
excuse?"
"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged.
"Too many anchovies on the pizza, or were you having
erotic dreams of your favorite vampire?"
"Angel's in L.A. Why would I be dreaming of him?" she
teased.
"Oh, pet. You're just asking to get bit," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry," she giggled. "You know you're my favorite
vampire."
The simple declaration brought a warm smile to the
vampire's lips, and he took her hand in his and drew
it into his lap to play mindlessly with her fingers as
she lapsed into thoughtful silence.
"What's wrong, luv?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head and looked down at her hand in his,
"He's gone."
"He's been gone for weeks."
"No, not from here," she explained, lifting her head
to scan the empty campus, then raised her free hand to
her heart. "From here."
He studied her face, waiting for her to continue.
"I can't feel him, anymore. I was lying in bed, trying
to find him--inside me, you know? But he isn't there,
anymore."
"Is that a bad feeling?" he asked.
She cocked her head, considering the question, "I
don't know. It doesn't feel like anything--just sort
of empty. Was it hard for you, letting Drusilla go?"
"At first," he nodded. "After I got over the initial
anger. But you move on, pet. You have to. It's no good
trying to go back. You can't, anyway."
"No," she agreed. "I'm kind of sorry, now, that I gave
you his picture. That I let you tear it up. I wish I
had asked for it back, instead."
"I wouldn't have given it back," he told her. "You
never would have torn it up on your own. I knew that,
even while you were telling me to do it, which is why
it was the first thing I did when I got home."
"But if I had it, maybe I could remember those
feelings, get them back, hang onto them, somehow," she
explained.
"The feelings weren't in that picture. They were in
you," he responded. "Why would you want them back,
anyway?"
"Because they hurt," she said, looking over at him.
"And hurting is better than feeling nothing at all."
"Is it?" he asked, holding her gaze. "Or is it just a
security blanket? A way of standing still? Of not
having to take the risks that come with leaving it
behind? You won't feel empty forever, pet."
"I feel like I will," she whispered.
He took her chin in his hand, "I promise you it won't.
It'll go away, just like the hurt has."
"You know, I'm thinking this moving on stuff really
sucks," she grinned sadly. "I don't even know what to
do, now. It was easy when I was hurting. I knew what
to do with that pain. I could put it into my studies,
or just sit and sulk. But this hole that's inside me,
now, I don't know what to do with that."
"You find something else to fill it up," he told her.
"I don't know if I can. I'm too scared to try," she
admitted.
He moaned softly and put his arm around her shoulder,
pulling her close against him, resting his cheek
against her soft hair, "You'll get over that, too."
"Sometimes, I wonder," she said. "I've never felt so
unanchored. I want answers, and I don't even know what
the questions are."
"Those answers are closer than you know," his lips
brushed gently over her temple as he spoke. "One day,
you're going to look up, and there they'll be, staring
you right in the eye."
"I hope so, because I hate feeling this way. I feel
like I could jump right out of my skin, like I want to
be anywhere other than where I am now."
He smiled softly and pulled away to look down at her,
"Walk with me?"
"I don't know. I promised Buffy I wouldn't go far.
She'll worry if I don't come back soon."
"Think so? I'll bet she's already asleep. She'll never
know you're gone. Come on, luv, just a short walk."
"Okay, I'd like that," she agreed and allowed him to
pull her up onto her feet.
From a window above, Buffy watched in the darkness as
the two familiar forms walked slowly away from the
building. She smiled sleepily and crawled back under
the blankets with a satisfied yawn.
End.