RATING: Eventual R or NC-17. You have been warned.
PAIRING: W/S
SPOILERS: Everything, really. Spoler-ific.
NOTES: Trying to find some inspiration and get a grasp on crazy- Spike and changed-Willow. Forgive me if this sucks.
DEDICATIONS: To those of you who are still here waiting. Yes, I'm alive. I'm trying to get back into writing after an extended break, so thanks for bearing with me.
FEEDBACK: Would be nice after as long as it's been since I've written anything. Thanks.
* * * * * * * * *
~Part: 1~
It had been a long time since she'd looked at him. REALLY looked at him.
Oh, she'd seen him. He'd been around. But she hadn't been paying much attention, what with all the things that had been going on in Sunnydale over the last few months.
He'd gone away. Not that she could blame him, considering the things that had happened. He'd tried to rape the girl he claimed to love, although she herself was fairly sure that that had just been a situation that had gotten out of control. Spike had never been terribly good at controlling himself, after all. But he'd done what he'd done, and he'd gone away.
Still, it had been for the best that he'd left; that much she was certain of. Had he stayed, things would have gotten... dusty. She knew it.
But he'd come back, and with a soul that was obviously tormenting him, now that she'd noticed. FINALLY noticed.
And yet, Willow told herself, it wasn't like she'd been being deliberately oblivious. She'd been going through a lot herself. Working with the coven in England; attempting to live her life without Tara; trying to recover from her recent descent into darkness. Hell, it still had a hold on her– a not-so-tiny foothold within her own soul. Which may have been why she'd not seen the horrors the now-souled English vampire was experiencing.
Sure, she'd known he was having problems. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had been very clear that Spike was not... Spike... when she'd found him in the basement of the newly-rebuilt high school. But she'd been having problems of her own then, what with the whole being invisible to her friends thing.
That was yet another thought that almost shocked her. HE'D seen her.
Spike had been a part of the team for a good while before his mistake in Buffy's bathroom. Why had HE been able to see her when everyone else– other than Anya– couldn't? Did that mean she didn't see him as a friend? That somewhere deep down inside, she'd never really liked him or trusted him at all?
It was definitely a question that required some thought, she decided.
Willow made herself some tea and sat down at the dining room table, her mind whirling through all she knew and felt about Spike, and getting exactly nowhere.
Her eyes closed wearily, one hand wrapped around her rapidly cooling mug of tea, and she propped her chin up on her other hand as she reveled in the unusual silence of the Summers' house.
"Peace and quiet," she murmured. "At last..."
Maybe she could figure out what to do about Spike while he and Buffy were training the potential Slayers. Gods knew SOMEONE had to help him. He was barely holding on as it was.
* * * * * * * * *
He found himself watching her from the corner of his eye, and he had no idea of what the reason for that was. It wasn't as if she'd changed, after all. She was still the same old Willow, although... there was something.
Maybe that was it, he reasoned in one of his increasingly frequent moments of clarity. Maybe whatever it was that WASN'T the same old Willow was what had him so curious. And concerned, if he was going to be honest with himself– which he had to admit he rarely was.
Even with the soul, honesty was... painful. Hell, ESPECIALLY with the soul. He didn't quite recall what he'd been thinking when he'd gone looking for it, but... he was almost entirely sure he regretted having done so.
That was something to mull over– yet again– in the harsh light of day while he was trapped in the small room in the basement of the house. For the moment, it was the redhead that had him both confused and... intrigued, he supposed. It was something disturbing. Something...
Something about the look in her eyes. The haunted look of someone who had been dead inside, and was slowly finding their way back to fully existing amongst the living. The small stain created by what he thought was a true understanding of evil in one way or another. When had that happened?
He watched her for a while longer, until the info-mercials came on the channel they were watching; then he sighed.
"Red," he said quietly, thumbing the power button on the remote control. "Willow," he clarified when she seemed not to hear him, "What... what happened to you?"
* * * * * * * * *
The question came as a shock to her, as did his voice. They'd done this any number of times since he'd moved into the house, after all. They'd sat up late watching television, with never a word exchanged– not even `good night' when they went their separate ways.
Not that she hadn't been thinking about him, of course, because her thoughts from earlier were still very much on her mind. But she hadn't expected... this. Whatever THIS was.
"I..." she began, frowning slightly when her voice squeaked, "I don't know... what you mean. What... happened to me? I mean, aside from the whole thing with my girlfriend being murdered, then me going on a personal quest to destroy the world..." Her brow furrowed, and she felt small tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. "And... killing Warren. Going after the rest of the geek squad– and I was kinda almost one of them, aside from their whole wanting to rule the world thing... but then I tried to KILL the world, so I guess that makes me the badder bad, right?"
His eyes widened slightly as she went on, because while he'd actually known all that, it wasn't the same hearing it from the others as it was from the smallish redhead. For some reason, he could feel her pain, and underneath it a certain sense of... pride?
"I almost ended it all," she said intently, her voice becoming softer as she met his eyes. "I wanted to. I NEEDED to." Her eyes closed slowly and she swallowed hard. "And a part of me still... wishes I had."
His brow furrowed slightly as he took in her words, and he nodded slowly when her eyes opened again, dark green and shadowed. "I can respect that, Red. Woulda ended the hurt, wouldn't it?"
He held her gaze a moment longer, then stood and crossed the rug, crouching in front of her where she sat on the small couch.
"Woulda ended everything. The pain. The suffering... the loneliness." His own voice became barely more than a murmur as he continued. "Woulda made things all... peaceful-like. No sorrows, no heartaches, no... fear."
She couldn't have looked away if she'd tried, but she didn't try. She sat frozen, as though the entire universe was suspended for that one sharp moment in time.
"No joy," Spike went on, as if to himself, "No chances to make things better. No hope for a future, because who needs one of those, right? No puppies, no kittens, no bright shining night. NOTHING."
His lips twitched into a sly half grin. "Yeah, pet. I can respect wantin' to end it all. Just don't know as I'd have the strength."
He held her eyes a moment longer, then stood and turned away.
"Night, Red," he called over his shoulder as he reached the door to the basement, "Sleep well." And oddly enough, he really hoped she would.
~Part: 2~
Three weeks, she thought, smiling. It had been three weeks since that night he'd said those things to her, and in that time? Well, she'd realized that she'd been right when she asked herself the reason he'd been able to see her when Buffy, Xander and Dawn couldn't. She hadn't really thought of him as a friend.
An ally, sure. A weapon. A frighteningly inappropriate boyfriend for the Slayer. But not a friend. Never an actual friend.
She thought that was perhaps because he'd always seemed so... needless. So disdainful of her and her life. Because even with the chip in his head he'd done things the way he'd wanted to, while she– with nothing LIKE his handicap– had allowed herself to be steered and directed all her life. First by her parents, then by the Scoobies, and finally... finally by her dead lover.
No; she'd realized almost two weeks earlier that while she'd always had a certain amount of respect for Spike– and fear of him, because chipped or not...? Still a demon...– she'd never thought of him as a friend. In fact, she'd resented him for moving beyond the things holding him back and going for what he'd wanted. It was an admirable trait, on the whole. Although not, perhaps, at the moment.
"It's watching me," he insisted again, poking at her potato with a fork. "All those eyes, just looking for weakness... not gonna find it; no, not gonna find it. I can hide from you..."
Willow barely kept herself from laughing out loud, but she didn't want a repeat of last week, so she managed. She snatched the napkin from the table and opened it, then dropped it over her plate.
"There," she announced, smiling at Spike, "Impenetrable lead curtain in place. It can't see a thing."
His eyes rolled, even as they got up from what had become their usual table at the local diner.
"`m not stupid, Red," he told her as they strolled to the register. "Lead is what works for Superman, and that was bloody well not HIM."
Willow giggled to herself as she paid their remarkably small bill, then grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the street.
"Sorry, Spike. I forgot. It's aluminum foil that blocks out the all- seeing potato-eyes."
He was smiling himself as they started towards the bookstore, although he wasn't sure why. The bloody ugly thing HAD been watching him; he was certain of it.
* * * * * * * * *
"No, Buffy," Willow said again, carefully keeping her eye roll completely internal. "I mean, okay. I KNOW he can kill people again. Maybe because of the soul or something. Whatever. BUT! He won't."
She nodded as she went on slowly, almost musingly. "He knows now. Knows what he was doing. He's... aware... that he lost hours, and that he was biting..."
"Willow," the Slayer interrupted, "Look, I'm just saying..." She sighed. "He did lose hours. And none of us know why. Not even SPIKE knows why. I just... I don't think it's a good idea for you to spend so much time with him. He could..."
"Could WHAT, Buffy? Turn on me? Hurt me? Make me a monster? I don't think so." Willow forced her voice to soften. "He's hurt, Buffy. Inside. He's hurting so much, and... I think maybe I'm like a safety net for him. I mean, bad-ass wicca, right? You can barely manage to spend more than five minutes with him– and those training sessions with the kids do NOT count."
"But..."
"No! No buts! If he DOES try to feed again, don't you think he should be with someone who could maybe stop him? You aren't comfortable with him. I get that. Really. I can see why you wouldn't be. And really, I'd worry if you WERE. But you're not, and he knows it, too."
Buffy frowned slightly. "He knows... how does he know?"
"Pfffthhhtttt..." Willow exhaled, finally allowing her eyes to roll. "He's crazy sometimes, yes. But one thing Spike isn't is stupid. I'm still not really good with what he tried to do to you, but... Let's face it, Buffy. I'm possibly the only friend he has, and I'm safe for him. He knows I'll stop him if he tries to kill again. I have the spells memorized. And..." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. "And Spike will stop ME if I start to lose it, too. We're... safe together, Buffy. That's all. We're... safe."
One hand rose, and Buffy tugged anxiously on her long blonde hair before finally sighing defeat. "All right, Will," she said softly. "Just... be careful, okay? I don't think he'd try to hurt you on purpose, but sometimes he's not... himself." Her brow furrowed slightly. "And I can't believe I just said that Spike being himself is a GOOD thing. Or not a bad thing. Or... well, you know what I mean."
Willow grinned and giggled quietly. "Sadly? Yes. Yes, I do."
"You!" Buffy teased, lightly slapping her friend's arm before hugging her. "I just worry, you know. About you, and Dawn... about all of us."
She hugged the Slayer back, nodding. "I know you do," she admitted, pulling away. "But Buffy... sometimes you just have to close your eyes and hope for the best." She nodded again and smiled. "Speaking of which... sun's down. Time to patrol with my new best bud."
Buffy watched the redhead stroll of towards the basement, her heart still heavy with worry.
"You're going to have to trust her sometime, Buffy," Giles said from the doorway. "Willow is a very bright girl."
"I know, Giles," she answered, still staring after her friend. "I just wish I could shake this feeling."
"What feeling is that?"
She shrugged and shook her head slowly. "I think... I'm afraid that instead of keeping each other safe, they'll end up leading each other astray." She shook her head again and sighed. "Never mind. I'm probably just worrying over nothing. I mean, just because he made me do things that were.. wrong... that doesn't mean he'll... Plus, he has that soul now, so... Yeah, I'm being obsessive. Right?"
Giles smiled slightly, just the corner of his mouth tipping up. "With what we're currently facing, Buffy, I'd say that Willow and Spike are the least of our concerns. Now, where are the girls?"
"Upstairs. Something about make-overs with Dawn." Buffy smiled back at her Watcher. "I just needed to get them all out of my hair for a little while, you know?"
* * * * * * * * *
It was the new one that was bothering him so much. That Amanda.
Every time she looked at him, he felt... guilty.
He wished he knew the why of it, but he didn't. As far as he knew, he'd never seen her until she's shown up at the house with Dawn– a new Slayer In Waiting.
That was what she was, he knew– what they ALL were. Slayers. In waiting. Waiting for the current Slayer to die so their lives would have the chance at having some meaning. So they could have the opportunity to fulfill their so-called `destinies'.
Problem was... he wasn't sure he really wanted them to be trained well enough to do the job. Not when it meant Buffy would be dead. And yet... what of the world? What would happen to IT if he held back and deliberately did less than his best for them?
Well, nothing good; that much he knew. He just wasn't sure that he cared as much as the soul within him should have guaranteed.
He felt the redhead slipping up beside him where he stood on the catwalk overlooking the dancefloor at the Bronze. His head dipped slightly in acknowledgement, although his gaze remained locked on the young girls below, cavorting in a rare moment of youthful glee with their mentor– the blonde who looked almost as young as they did.
"She worries me," he admitted softly, eyes finding the tall, lanky form of the most recent arrival to the ranks. "Dunno why. Dunno much of anything, really. Just... she worries me."
Willow followed his stare, and sighed quietly as Amanda spun in apparently off-balanced circles below.
"Something about her, Red. It just doesn't feel... right."
She nodded slightly, although she wasn't entirely sure of why. "Have you mentioned that to Buffy? That she makes you..."
Spike shook his head. "`Course not, Will. What would I say? "I know I'm crazy a lot of the time, Buffy, but something about that girl makes me twitchy"?" He shook his head again. "She'd chalk it up to me being more than a little bit nutty, wouldn't she? And who could blame her? Not like I could back it up with fact, right?"
Well, true enough, she admitted silently. Still... "You're a vampire, Spike. Heightened senses and stuff. Maybe that's why you're so..."
"No," he said flatly, leaning against her arm with his own as he rested his elbows on the railing, "She would never believe that. Never believe ME." He turned his head and met her eyes sadly. "She doesn't trust me, Willow. Not in anything aside from training those girls down there. Not in anything other than preparing them while they wait for her to die." He licked his lips and returned to watching the group below. "I just... I can't say anything until I know WHY. `Til I'm sure of the reason, y'know?"
Willow sighed, although he was right. Buffy would never take the word of a sometimes-insane vampire– with a soul or not– about one of the trainees. Not without something more than a feeling to go on.
"So," she said, changing the subject after a moment, "Can I ask you something, Spike? I mean, you can tell me it's none of my business, but I'm kinda curious..."
He glanced at her quickly from the corner of his eye and smiles slightly. "Sure, Red. Ask away. I'll tell you if it's none of your business."
"Well," she went on, grinning a bit, "The whole loving Buffy thing. It seems kinda... wrong for a vamp without a soul, so... how'd that start?"
For the first time in what seemed like forever, Spike laughed out loud with pure amusement. "Oh, Red...! I think you're the only one who's ever thought to ask me that!" He laughed some more, then pointed to a spot below the stairs in the room below. "I think it started right... there."
His smile dimmed slightly, becoming a bit more tender than it had been.
"I was havin' a beer one night, y'know, and I kinda... bumped into her. She was wearing red leather pants. Tight little black shirt, too. Looked bloody well unlike I'd ever seen her before. I mean, I'd always known she was cute in a gonna-kill-you, you-evil-vamp kinda way, but THAT night?" He chuckled. "Well, that night she was bleedin' HOT, if you get my drift."
He laughed some more and turned away from the club below, leaning back against the railing as he met Willow's eyes.
"So, like I said, I bumped into her. We had... words, and hers were... exciting. Interesting for once. There was a fire in her. She made me..." He shook his head. "Well, lets just say the words `warm champagne' will never mean just that to me again." He winked. "And that was what started me thinkin', I suspect. Because if she could look at me like that– like I was a particularly attractive piece of meat? Then she had to be lookin', right? And..."
Willow's eyes were wide as his words trailed off. Buffy had looked at him HOW? And... red leather pants? She didn't think her friend even OWNED... oh, wait. Yes she did. But she'd only worn them once that Willow knew of, and that hadn't even been her, and... "Oh, my Gods... Faith!"
Spike spun back to face the crowd below, eyes scanning for the Slayer he'd never seen. "Where?" he demanded.
Oh, boy, Willow, she thought, now how do I explain THIS one?
~Part: 3~
And now he found himself watching Buffy almost as obsessively as he had before, but for an entirely different reason. It wasn't her?
The thought ran roughshod through his mind at odd intervals.
He'd been drawn to her by that fire she'd shown, and it wasn't her. Or that's what Red had tried to explain to him, anyway.
He almost wanted to think Willow was lying to him, but why would she? She had nothing to gain by telling him about the body-switching the other Slayer had done.
He forced his mind back to the moment as three of the Slayers in waiting came at him.
One hand lashed out, catching Kennedy across the cheekbone, and as she fell, he swept Rona's leg, taking her down, as well. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as Amanda came in for another pass at him, his features shifting to his human face as she swung the staff towards his head.
It was less than an instant later that he had her on the ground, as well, the end of her own weapon hard against her throat.
"Not good enough," he growled, leaning more of his weight on her.
"Spike!" Buffy snapped, "Stop it. Let her up."
He frowned deeply, then lifted the staff and flung it aside in disgust. "This one's no good, Slayer," he announced. "You're wasting your time with her. And more importantly, you're wasting MINE."
He turned away, ignoring whatever words Buffy was saying, and stalked from the graveyard. He still didn't trust the girl. Didn't like her, either. Hell, none of them could even begin to hope to survive, when and if Buffy died. It had taken all of them together to take down that one vamp in that crypt, after all.
"Good luck," he snarled over his shoulder as he went, "You'll need it."
* * * * * * * * *
Willow couldn't help smiling at Spike's snarky rant about the trainees– mostly because he had some valid points, but also because he was pretty darned funny. Still, she couldn't help wondering how much of his annoyance was based on the fact that he knew now. Knew that he'd been fooled by Faith.
"Uh-huh," she said again, grinning more when he seemed to be waiting for some response, "But I don't think you'll be able to find a cage full of wild tigers and scorpions to lock them in. Not here in Sunnydale, anyway. Maybe in Africa? Or the Gobi Desert?" She could see the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth and she went on. "Oh, oh! I know! We could get them on e-bay!"
She pretended to look thoughtful as she mused. "Now, what category would that be under...? Toys, maybe. Toys for vamps who want to truly test potential Slayers? Or... accessories. Maybe accessories."
And try as he might, he couldn't hold on to his bad mood. Not in the face of her teasing. He held his scowl for another moment or so until he just couldn't do it any more, then broke into a huge grin and reached out, tugging her hair playfully.
"You're a bloody sweet bit o' baggage, pet," he announced, chuckling softly. "What would I do without you to cheer me up, `ey?"
Willow giggled and pulled her hair from his grasp. "Um... Walk around in a snit all the time? Piss Buffy off until she staked you?" She laughed some more, then grabbed his arm. "Come on. I'm thinking chocolate is needed."
"Ice cream, Red?" he almost begged as she lead him from the house, "With those little sprinkles?"
She rolled her eyes and snorted softly. "You know, for a bad-ass vampire, you sure do love a clown cone."
"Willow!" he admonished, the laughter clear in his voice.
"Hey," she went on as they strolled towards main street, "I'm just sayin'. Master Vamp. Clown cone. Not really a match made in Heaven."
Spike chuckled. "Hah! You didn't know clowns were evil, pet?"
Their amused banter went on as they reached the heart of town and the ice cream shop, neither of them feeling the eyes watching and plotting from the darkness.
* * * * * * * * *
Maybe it was the way they watched her, he thought. The way the bloody stupid teenaged girls watched the Slayer. Like they were trying to be sponges or something. Suck up all her knowledge and skill so that when she finally DID die, one of them might have a chance. Maybe THAT was what put him off about them, and especially that Amanda.
Probably was the reason, he told himself as he watched from the shadows. Why else would he feel so... however it was he felt.
He forced himself not to growl as they leaned closer, taking in her words. Not like she was a sodding scholar, but aside from Giles, Spike figured she was the one who knew the most. About being a Slayer, anyway.
Or she thought she did, because he'd been thinking about it in his not-so-crazed moments, and...
He knew what they didn't, he realized. The death they were waiting for...? It wasn't Buffy's. It was the other one's. Faith's. If it had been Buffy's, there would have been another already. Again.
He couldn't quite figure why that knowledge left him almost cold. He loved her, after all. She was his reason, and she believed in him. She made him better. Good. Or at least, not bad.
And she didn't know, either. It was obvious. Buffy had no idea that the line no longer ran through her body. The universe had already chalked her up as dead and gone– at least so far as being the Slayer went. After all, when his dark Princess had killed that one Slayer... Kendra, he thought her name was... the next had been called. Faith. Yet Buffy had died– again– and... no new Slayer.
So no new Slayer, which meant... what, exactly? Was he right in what he was thinking? He wasn't sure.
His brow furrowed deeply as he mulled it over.
"What's up, Spike?" Willow said from just behind him, grinning when he jumped slightly. "You watching the girls with `disapproval' again?" Her smile faded quickly, though, as he turned and dragged her off a ways. "Spike...!"
"Shhh... quiet, Red. Need to ask you something. It's important."
Willow nodded after a moment and allowed him to pull her farther away from the small group, although she was fairly sure none of them had even noticed her approaching. She hadn't spent the last month in company with a master vamp for nothing, after all.
"All right, Spike," she said when he finally stopped and turned to face her, "What's going on?" Her eyes narrowed slightly at his carefully bland expression and she groaned. "Oh, Gods... I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this..."
It was fascinating, the ever-changing expressions that flitted across her face. That was what he thought while he told her where his mind had been lately. She really was a remarkably open girl. Almost TOO open, in fact. It might get her in trouble some day.
He pushed those thoughts, and the worry they caused, aside as he finished and looked at her expectantly. "Well? Does it make sense, Will, or is it just the bug-shaggin'-crazy bits of my brain gettin' up an' doin' a little dance?"
They'd never thought about it, she realized as she stood there in the dim light. None of them; not even Giles, apparently. Or if he had, he hadn't felt it was necessary to share that little bit of speculation. But she really couldn't believe she hadn't realized it herself.
She shook her head slowly, barely even hearing his last question as her mind raced. Buffy had... and there wasn't... and Faith was... and there was no new Slayer!
"Oh... bloody hell," she muttered, mostly to herself.
~Part: 4~
She found herself watching the girls just as closely as Spike did now. Even that one who made her so uncomfortable. Kennedy.
Not that she disliked her, because she certainly didn't, but... she just came on so STRONG, always making with the touching and sly glances and insinuating comments. It was kinda freaking her out.
And the fact that it was freaking her out was freaking her out, too. She should have been flattered that the girl– young as she was– had decided she was attractive. She should have been thrilled that her appeal hadn't been limited to her dead lover. Instead, she was... something. Uncomfortable, she supposed.
Maybe it just hadn't been long enough. Maybe she was still in mourning.
Yeah, Willow told herself. That was it. That was why the idea of even letting the younger girl kiss her made her... queasy. She was still gay, after all, so it had to be the mourning.
"They obviously don't know," she muttered to the vampire beside her. "That they're waiting for the wrong Slayer to die, I mean."
Spike exhaled one huge breath and shook his head. "Of course they don't, Red," he answered just as quietly. "We only just figured it out ourselves, and... you have to admit– Slayers-to-be or not? Not the sharpest pencils in the bloody box, now are they?"
Willow tried her damnedest not to laugh, but there was no help for it. Still... "That's not really fair, Spike," she said after a minute or so of giggling, "I mean, they all of a sudden get snatched away from their lives, people are trying to kill them, and their Watchers are dead. Not really a situation to make them all thoughtful and stuff..."
His harrumph was mostly internal, but the rolling of his eyes was definitely not. "YOU woulda been thinking all this time, Red. And you'd've figured something out by now. Not necessarily the truth, but... you'd've thought of SOMETHING." He shook his head. "No, they're just... dim."
Well, she supposed that was true enough, in its way. None the less, she couldn't just ignore the sacrifices the girls were prepared to make. Had already made, in some cases.
"Okay," she said, "I'd have been thinking. And I'd probably be dead by now if I were one of them. Too much thinking and not enough doing, you know?" She smiled slightly as one of the girls pulled off a particularly tricky move. "You've heard what Buffy keeps telling them. Follow their instincts. Well, my instincts would tell me to sit down and have a good long think, and then... BANG! No more Willow."
Spike chuckled and threw an arm around the redhead's shoulders. "Well, that would be a tragedy. Really." He laughed a bit more at the annoyed expression she turned to him, then released her and took her hand instead. "Thought we were gonna try to catch that movie, pet," he added, tugging at her lightly. "The babies will be fine for a couple hours. They don't need us any more tonight, right?"
Her own eyes rolled, but she couldn't stay irritated so she just shrugged and grinned at him. "Yeah, yeah, all right, Spike... Sunnydale Cinema, here we come. And this time YOU buy the popcorn."
"With what, Red?" he asked lightly as they left, "My good looks?"
"Pftttthhhh... Like you're all that."
* * * * * * * * *
She still shivered whenever she remembered the sensation. Losing herself. Becoming HIM. The one she'd killed.
She also shivered whenever she looked at Kennedy now.
It wasn't right to resent the girl; she knew that. But somewhere inside her, she blamed Kennedy for the whole thing. She'd kissed her and triggered the change, after all. Of course, she'd also brought her back, but at what cost?
Willow sighed softly and wrapped her arms a bit more tightly around her knees as she stared down at the back yard. "I can't feel her anymore," she admitted out loud for the first time. "I can't feel Tara."
Her head fell forward and one small tear slipped from her eye. "She's gone. And I let her go." It was a hard thing to know.
* * * * * * * * *
He hated seeing her hurting the way she was, and over something she couldn't change. Not that she hadn't tried. After she'd become herself again, she'd tried. Looking into the ether for the sense of her dead lover; casting spell after spell. It hadn't worked, but she'd tried.
He wished he'd been there to help her, but that damned chip had been making him... bleed. On the inside and out. He'd never known the sort of pain he'd been experiencing then. He'd been useless. The thought made him growl.
He'd been useless to the one person who actually seemed to care about him. The only one who wasn't afraid of him... or rather the only one who truly knew what he'd been and STILL wasn't afraid of him. The only one who didn't hold him in some sort of contempt. She'd been hurt and he hadn't been able to stop it. Hell, he hadn't even been fully aware of what was happening to her, and what did that say for the kind of friend he was?
But maybe... maybe he didn't have it in him to be a friend. He hadn't had any when he'd been human, after all, and after he'd gotten his demon? Not a chance.
He watched the redhead closely, and didn't even notice his features shifting when that dark-haired girl– the rich one with the dead president's name– approached her.
"Put the bumpies away, you big freak," Xander said quickly as he walked towards the kitchen. "You're impressing no-one."
Spike's eyes narrowed and he snarled slightly. "Yeah? Why don't you go stuff your face some more, dough-boy? Gotta be a cupcake somewhere whose days are numbered... aside from the demon-chits you keep ending up with." He smirked as the now-silent man left the room. "Great bloody prat."
His eyes returned to his friend and the girl who was apparently still after her. It bothered him, for some reason. Seeing the Slayer wannabe so close to the redhead was just... wrong.
* * * * * * * * *
She wasn't entirely sure of what she was doing. She was letting Kennedy believe that things between them were... progressing. Problem was, she also wasn't sure that they were. She'd told the younger girl the truth that night, after all. It had never been women but WOMAN. ONE woman.
Not that Kennedy wasn't attractive, because Gods knew she was definitely that, and not that the girl wasn't one hell of a kisser, but... something was missing. Or maybe just... wrong.
Maybe, Willow thought, it was that as a potential Slayer, the girl's days seemed kinda numbered. Or the fact that one dead lover had been almost more than she could handle.
Or maybe... maybe it was just that she didn't feel that SPARK with Kennedy. Not the way she had with Tara.
She sighed softly, even as she felt Spike approaching.
"Hi," she said simply, still leaning against the railing overlooking the dancefloor. "What's up, Spike?"
One brow arched at her distracted tone of voice and he rested beside her, his own eyes following her gaze to find... "Oh... is poor little Red yearning for the ripe young peach?"
Willow's eyes rolled, even as she smiled at the snide tone of his voice. "Uh, no?" Her smile was short-lived, however. "More like the ripe young peach is yearning for...." She sighed again. "Something I'm not sure I can give her."
"Oh," he purred, chuckling. "Little princess wants a bit of the lusty redhead, does she? And said redhead is... what? Backing off? Leading the poor pet on?" He grinned hugely when she slapped his arm. "Hey, just sayin', Will..."
She shook her head slowly, not sure of whether to be amused or offended by his words. "I just... I don't know, Spike. I mean, I LIKE her, but... I don't think..."
"No fire," Spike said quickly, ignoring the small thrill racing up and down his spine. "If it's not there, pet, it's not there. Best not to string the girl along. Hurts, that does."
Willow nodded, looking down at the girls. "Yeah... but there's SOMETHING there. Just... not that."
She watched him nod from the corner of her eye, amazed by how well he hid the pain he still had to be feeling. After all, stringing him along was pretty much what Buffy had done, and... she knew he had to be hurting.
"Guess I'd better tell her, huh, Spike?"
"Think so, luv. Think so."
* * * * * * * * *
Well, as it turned out, she'd had no need to have the conversation she'd been dreading. Not after what had happened the other night.
She hadn't meant to scare the girl. That was what she kept telling herself anyway, and while that might actually be the truth, she had to admit that she felt kind of... relieved.
She considered trying to explain better or more, but no. Even if Kennedy listened, Willow wasn't sure she really wanted the other girl to go back to the way she'd been acting before. No... this was better. And much as it bothered her slightly that the potential was a little bit afraid of her and her power, it really was only a tiny bit bothersome. At least the girl had some inkling of the forces Willow tried to manipulate every time she cast a spell. Besides, if it scared her that much, things would never have worked out, anyway.
It was the sensation of eyes heavy on her that dragged her from her thoughts and she frowned slightly when she realized Spike was staring at her again. "What?"
The vampire shrugged, a small thrill of satisfaction racing through him as his long leather coat shifted on his shoulders. "Nothing, pet. You just look... more comfortable for some reason. Like... maybe you're finding out how you fit in your skin." `And who you don't want in there with you,' he thought, but he'd be damned if he was gonna say that out loud.
One slender red brow raised for a moment, and her lips quirked up at the edges as she glanced up and down his form. "You too, Spike. You look... good." And it was true, she realized. She could actually see why Buffy had been so... No. Willow shook her head. She was SO not going there. "Really," she added, trying to hide how disturbed her sudden realization had made her.
Spike chuckled softly and leaned against her for a second. "I always look good, pet. Even when I was acting the ponce I was bloody well hot. Now come on and I'll nick us a coupla drinks."
~Part: 5~
Well, she understood now why she'd never been the dumper. She just wasn't any good at it, obviously.
Okay, she'd thought Kennedy had backed off, but apparently the younger girl had been less freaked than it had seemed. It had only taken a few days before she'd been all "Want to watch some TV with me, Willow?", and... she hadn't had it in her to tell her no.
Oh, she'd tried keeping Kennedy at arm's length, but Willow had to admit it just wasn't working.
She sighed softly and shook her head, forcing her mind back to the computer screen and the research she was doing yet again.
* * * * * * * * *
"Bloody stupid little tart!" Spike snarled quietly as he exhaled one long plume of smoke. "Chit can't take a hint, and Red's given her more than a few." He raised his head repeatedly, slamming it back into his pillow. "Soddin' trollop doesn't deserve even the first glance from witchy-poo's eyes. AND she's being so bleedin' disrespectful of the other little witch's memory. Only been a few months, right? Right!" He growled then, taking another deep drag from his cigarette.
"She is a wicked, wicked girl, my Spike," a voice said from the corner. "She threatens your friend."
His eyes closed and his forearm rested over his eyes. "I know that, Dru. She's making Red all confused and guilty– making her feel like she never loved her Tara-girl. That Kennedy bint is making Red weak."
"Yes, my love," the Dru-shape purred, "And she takes her friendship from you... distracts the red tree from the ones who truly care for her." The First moved closer, her feet moving in tiny, dance-like steps. "The potential Slayer is bad, my Spike. Worse than that Amanda."
"Kill her, Spike. She must die for trying to take what is yours." The great seething cloud of evil contained within the svelte brunette form smiled at the blond vampire laying motionless on the cot. "Kill her. Things will be ever so lovely when you do... "
His arm slowly rose, elbow bending until the filter end of his smoke found his lips again and he gazed consideringly at the form of his first love as he inhaled. "Right, then," he said softly, meeting those unusually cold, empty eyes, "I know what I have to do."
"Good dog," the First purred before dissolving into mist and fading from the room.
* * * * * * * * *
"What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes hot as he stared at the smallish redhead. "Could have told you, but you didn't even ask!"
"I was... but... she! And then with the kissing, and..." She gestured broadly in the slightly cool air of the backyard. "And she was being so nice, and..."
"And that's not the way to keep someone from wanting you, pet! Holding hands, locking lips on the couch? Thought you didn't want the girl!"
"I-I don't! But I just..." Willow pouted slightly and sighed. "I'm just no good at this, Spike. I don't want to..." She sighed again.
"What, Red?" he said softly after a moment. "Hurt her feelings?" He shook his head and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Look, pet. Thought we talked about this already. If you let her think she means more to you than she does, she's gonna hurt worse when you finally come clean."
Willow nodded slowly, her eyes cast down. "But... maybe it won't come to that?"
"Only way the girl's gonna give up is if she's dead, Will. Unless you TELL her." His free hand rose, one finger tipping her face up, and he met her eyes. "Hadn't pegged you as a cruel one, Red. Or have I been wrong?"
Her head was shaking before she even realized it, even as she wondered why she was feeling so... relieved and somehow startled. "No. Nope. Not cruel, not me. Uh-uh. Vampire-me maybe, but not human-me. Nope..."
Spike was laughing before he even managed to take in her words. "Too long since I've heard you ramble, pet." His good humour remained in the form of a slightly quizzical smile. "You should do that more often, you know. It's... almost cute."
She couldn't keep herself from answering his laughter with a giggle of her own as she pulled away from him and slapped his arm. "You! Just... stop it, you! I know you're just trying to make me blush."
He shrugged quickly, his smile becoming a wicked little smirk. "Can't help it, pet... you just smell so sweet and ripe when you blush. All that rich, powerful blood just beneath the surface. You're a vampire's dream."
Willow's eyes rolled with annoyance. "Whatever, Spike. Hey! How did you know? About the couch and the... kissing..."
Spike chuckled darkly as she blushed even more. "Never thought I'd say this, pet, but... that Andrew bloke's fascination with video tape? Not always a bad thing. Although," he continued, his brow furrowing, "I think he has a bit of a thing for Chubs. Seemed awfully impressed with his... skills."
She moaned silently as his smirk grew, deliberately not wondering why it made her so... uncomfortable. Must be the idea of Andrew with Xander, she decided. The guy was more of a nerd than she'd ever been, after all.
* * * * * * * * *
Anya's brows rose almost into her hair as she watched Willow and Spike talking. She shook her head, trying to convince herself that she was wrong. Willow was gay, after all. Or so she'd thought.
Then again, she realized, the redhead had been so very in love with that werewolf of hers. She's only turned to Tara after he'd left, really, and... okay, so she'd chosen the other witch over Oz when he'd returned, but that made sense. Every memory she had of her initial turn as a vengeance demon told her so. After all, Tara had never torn Willow's heart out and then come back looking for another chance. When Tara had left Willow the first time, she hadn't really left her. She'd... put some distance between them but left the door open and that had worked out for them. Until Tara died, anyway.
Still, that wasn't the point, she reminded herself as she moved closer.
Her lips twitched slightly as she deliberately listened to their quiet conversation. No way was the redhead as gay as she claimed to be. Not a chance. She could tell, but apparently... neither Willow nor Spike could.
None of her business, she reminded herself, but... she liked knowing things other people didn't. Besides, why should she say anything? She was still mad at Spike for not killing the demon D'Hofferyn had sent after her, so... let him wait for orgasms. He deserved it.
She was still smiling as she walked away from the kitchen window and into the living room. It was nice to have a secret, although she supposed anyone could see it if they looked. They just weren't looking.
* * * * * * * * *
"I didn't say that, Buffy," Robin Wood clarified. "I said I don't trust him, soul or not. And I'm not sure it's a good idea to let him spend so much time around Willow; especially if she's as powerful as I've heard."
Buffy sighed quietly and continued walking the graveyard, stake at the ready as the girls followed behind similarly armed. "They're friends, Robin. And... he DOES have a soul now. He... I think he can be a good man."
His earrings gleamed slightly as he shook his head in the night. "He's a demon. A vampire. Whatever history you have with him, you can't afford to forget that. Vampire. He's not a man. He can never really be good."
Her eyes hardened slightly as she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. "You may be right, Robin, but it's not your call to make. Spike is one of mine. He's a part of the group, somehow. And if he starts killing again? I'll stake him myself. But he deserves... a chance."
Wood stepped back slightly, hands held out at his sides. "Hey, I'm just saying..."
"What? That you don't think he's changed?" Buffy shook her head. "You wouldn't say that if you'd known him before. Just... Giles– my Watcher– said something to me once. Basically, sometimes you just have to hope for the best."
The man nodded slowly. "As long as you're also prepared for the worst, Buffy. That's all I'm saying."
The blonde nodded as well, although more slowly. "I'm always ready, Robin. But Spike really HAS changed."
His eyes narrowed just a bit as she started through the cemetery again and he sighed silently. "He doesn't look any different to me," he muttered, "Still a vamp, still demonic..." His mind continued to plot and plan even as he turned a portion of his attention to making the night safe. Or as safe as it could be in Sunnydale while the first evil was running around, anyway.
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