That Old Black Magic
By Melissa (dettiot@yahoo.com)

Rating:  PG-13
Setting:  post-Him
Disclaimer:  Joss and Mutant Enemy own all this.  Isn't it nice, then, that
Joss has told us that we can write fanfic?  :-)

Thanks to Cindy for the beta!

***

This is really all Willow's fault.  Not that I don't like the outcome, but
for every one of her spells that turns out well, there's a few that result
in wacky yet embarrassing hijinks.  And this one definitely looked more like
another humiliation for Buffy.

It all started after we dealt with R.J. and that letter jacket.  I was
talking to Willow, saying that I was worried about Dawn and how
self-conscious she seemed around the kids at school.  Willow said that she
was studying the spells that had been placed on the jacket, and that Dawn
shouldn't feel ashamed about what happened, because the spells were pretty
powerful and there was no way she could have resisted.  "And, for our
Slayer-related needs," she said in a perky voice, "I think there's something
that might work like a truth spell, only easier and faster."

I should have known that easier and faster would equal bad.  But I was so
worried about Dawn, and . . . other things, that I didn't think clearly.  So
I didn't think to tell her that maybe she shouldn't be trying to cut
corners.

So many of those cliched sayings are cliches for a reason, I've found.  Be
careful what you wish for, hindsight is twenty-twenty . . . they're all
true.  This story proves that.

***

I came into the house through the back door, immediately smelling some
herbal-y concoction that was simmering on the stove.  When I saw chicken
breasts defrosting on the other counter, I assumed that Willow was cooking
dinner.  So of course I did a taste test.

Boy, that was a bad idea.

"Bleah!" I said in disgust, dropping the spoon on the counter.  "Oh, it's
like bleu cheese and dirt!"

"What is?" came a voice behind me.  I turned around and saw Spike entering
the kitchen, heading towards the fridge and pulling out a bag of blood.

"This," I said, waving my hand towards the saucepan.  "I thought Willow was
a better cook than this."

Spike snorted a bit but didn't say anything, and I watched as he warmed up
his blood.  I had fought to get him human blood, although Xander had put up
a fuss, just like he did about anything that had to do with Spike.  But I
had put my foot down, saying that Spike needed human blood to heal faster,
and we needed him back in fighting shape as quickly as possible.

The fact that I was concerned about how thin he was had nothing to do with
it.  I mean, I was concerned only in a humanitarian way.  Although, Spike
was a vampire, so was he even human?  And if he wasn't, was "humanitarian"
the right word to use in describing an action that was supposed to help him?

I shook my head, dismayed at the way I was rambling in my head and confused
by my scattered thoughts.  I was feeling . . . odd.  Suddenly, it was like
everything I felt and thought didn't want to be kept inside.  I had the urge
to babble, to yammer, to reveal every feeling that passed over me.

Spike looked up at me and started fidgeting, which is understandable as I'd
been staring at him for five minutes.  "You gonna stare at me all day,
Slayer?"

"Yes!"

Huh?

When I realized what I had said, I slapped my hand over my mouth.  Spike
looked shocked, not that I could blame him.  I had a feeling, based on the
way I felt, that I was looking at him with stars in my eyes.

I felt so . . . open.  Affectionate, trusting.  It's not that I don't trust
Spike; I do.  But I wasn't used to the feelings being so strong, strong
enough to overcome the barriers that I had put up around my heart and
tongue.

"Um, Slayer?" Spike asked, looking worried.  "Are you feeling all right?"

I felt myself smile up at him, and I was a bit disgusted with myself.  I was
acting all giddy and foolish, hanging on to his every word.  I've never
acted like this with any guy.  Well, maybe with that guy I was dating in LA
right before I moved to Sunnydale, and I'm sure I seemed a bit
head-over-heels for Angel.  And then there was the frat party with Parker,
and when I first met Riley . . .

Okay, so it wasn't that odd for me to feel this way.  But I wasn't used to
feeling this way about Spike.  I hadn't ever let myself feel this way for
him, because he was too dangerous, too unpredictable.  Too evil, with his
caring and his protecting Dawn and his getting a soul for me--wait, wait!
I'm not saying this out loud, am I?

I shook my head, trying to clear it, before muttering, "Yeah . . . I just
feel something . . . "  My voice trailed off, and a weird, tense silence
stretched out between us.  I was trying not to tell him everything I'd ever
felt when I was around him, when suddenly he asked, "How's work going?"

"It's good!" I said, wanting to appear capable at something other than
pushing oversize toothpicks into the undead's chests.  "I never thought of
myself as a counselor--the ones I had in school were always ancient and
smelled of Ben-Gay.  But I think I'm good at this."

He nodded, and then said softly, "I'm sure you are."  And the small
compliment made me feel all happy and everything.  I smiled at him, and
restrained the urge to hug him.

I'm sure at this point, you're wondering why I wasn't freaking out.  And
believe me, I was a bit worried.  But so far, it just seemed like I was
being a better, happier Buffy, and what could be wrong with that?  Everyone
kept saying I kept my emotions under wraps too much--what was wrong with
letting them out for a bit of airing?

Yeah, yeah.  I know this conclusion was completely logic-free.  What can I
say?  The happy endorphins were messing with my head.

Anyway, I decided to go with it.  Spike was taking his time drinking his
blood, and I needed some reason to stay in the kitchen.  I looked around,
and bingo!  The sink was full of dirty dishes.  I went over and started the
water running, scrubbing hard at a plate caked with last night's
Macaroni-Hot Dog Surprise.  I looked over my shoulder and saw that Spike was
about done, so I quickly said, "Hey, want to give me a hand?"

I think Spike wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he came over and
picked up a dishtowel.  We stood there for a few minutes as I washed and he
dried, and I couldn't help thinking how nice this was.  Like a normal girl
and a normal boy and all that.  Thankfully, I didn't say that.  The silence
instead stretched between us, all comfortable this time.  The next thing I
knew, I was talking to Spike again.  "Are you feeling better today?"

Again, that adorably befuddled yet cautious expression crossed his face.  I
felt sad that he'd be so confused by simple concern.  All he said was,
"Yeah.  Blood's doing the trick, so soon I'll be back in fighting trim."

"Don't rush yourself.  I don't want you to risk getting hurt again by going
out there when you're not 100 percent."

"Been taking care of myself for a long while.  I think I'll know when I can
patrol," he said, seeming a bit annoyed.

"But Spike, I . . ."  I paused, biting my lip.  "I need you, and not just
for patrol.  I don't want you to get hurt."

Gah!  He's not supposed to know things like this!  I dropped my eyes to
those stubborn caked-on stains, trying to ignore the way his eyes were
boring into me.  And the way such attention made me feel.  Like I was the
only girl in the world, the only one he cared about . . .

"Um, Buffy?  Are you sure you're feeling okay?  You don't seem quite . . .
yourself."  Spike was edging away from me, holding up the dishcloth as a
shield.  I would have rolled my eyes if I hadn't been rushing forward to
make him understand why I was so concerned.

"I'm feeling great, as long as I can keep you from doing something stupid
and getting hurt.  Because you mean too much to me.  Besides, there's a lot
of things I want to talk over with you at some point.  And I can't do that
if you're in a coma from being beaten to a pulp when you weren't able to
keep up with some demon."

I knew I was glaring at him, and part of me was upset by saying all this.
But you know what?  It wasn't like I didn't feel this, and I was saying
things he already knew.  We hadn't talked at all, not since he got back.
Hell, even before he left.  I closed my eyes for a moment, trying not to
think about the events of last spring.  But what I was saying was right--we
needed to talk.  Sooner or later, it would affect us in the field, and I
didn't want either of us getting hurt.

Most especially him.

Spike took one look at me and did the only thing that probably made sense to
him.

"Willow!"

"Yeah?"  I heard Willow's voice coming from down the hall, muttering about
Girl Scouts armed with Thin Mints.  She walked into the room, took one look
at us, and immediately her brow wrinkled.  I could understand why--I had
practically cornered Spike, and I'm sure my glow-y expression was setting
off alarm bells.

"Spike, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" he exclaimed.  "Slayer's gone crazy."

"Is it crazy to realize that the most beautiful, most loving, most soulful
vampire in the world is standing in your kitchen, and you don't want him to
get hurt, so you tell him he needs to take better care of himself?"

Double gah!  I didn't mean that!

Actually . . . just between us?  I did.  I mean, I don't know if Spike was
the most loving vampire in the world, although I'd certainly be willing to
bet he was.  Most soulful--well, it didn't seem like he'd lose his soul if
he got too happy, not that he'd had anything to be happy about, but still,
just the fact that he couldn't lose it, *and* he had fought for it--well, it
made him seem pretty damn special in my book.

And as for most beautiful . . . well, come on.  You *have* seen the guy,
haven't you?

Still, I certainly hadn't meant for all that to come out like that. Willow
did a double-take and then looked at Spike.  His eyes were bugging out, and
although I've never seen a vampire faint, it looked like Spike was about to
be the first.

"Buffy, what's going on?" Willow said, turning towards me.

"It's just that . . . I realized that I've never told Spike how much he
matters to me.  Because he does--he matters a lot!"  I could feel the heat
in my cheeks as a blush broke out over my face, but I kept talking.
"Besides, have you noticed how gorgeous he is?"  I leaned forward and
whispered to Willow, "Especially when he's naked!"

Okay, now I'm sounding like the Buffybot.  That's creeping me out.  Willow
doesn't look too thrilled, either.

"Ooookay," Willow said, backing away a bit.  "Clearly, something is going on
here.  Something very not-normal."  She paused, obviously trying to figure
out the best way to deal with this.  She moved over and whispered to Spike
for a few moments.  Then, she turned back to me.  "Buffy, could you tell me
when you noticed feeling anything . . . unusual?"

I nodded.  "Well, I know I'm acting differently.  I came home through the
back door, and saw that dinner was getting ready.  I tasted the marinade,
which, by the way, Will, needs some serious work.  Then, Spike came into the
kitchen, and suddenly everything was different.  I felt like I was seeing
him with a new pair of eyes, and I knew I couldn't not tell him how
wonderful he is, how concerned I am about him--"

Willow said, "Wait a minute.  Marinade?  What marinade?"  She looked around
the kitchen, and her eyes landed on the saucepan still bubbling on the
stove.  Her eyes widened and her face grew pale.  She looked from Spike, to
me, to the saucepan, then back to Spike.  Then, she said something that
summed up the bad feeling I was getting.

"Oh, crap."

***

By the time Xander, Anya, and Dawn had shown up, Willow seemed to have
gotten the info she needed from me and Spike.  Of course, I'm sure it was
hard, with me getting so distracted by Spike's rippling muscles as he paced
in front of us.

Once everyone was in the room, Willow sighed deeply.  "I think I know what's
going on, and you're not going to like it."

"She's under a spell," Spike said glumly.

Hey, buddy, you're not the one spilling your guts here!  It may be easy for
you to be all Mr. Sensitive, but it's not a walk in the park for me!

"You'd think at this point that we all would be immune to them," Willow
said.

"Welcome to Sunnydale--Spell Capital of the World," Xander muttered.

"How did this happen, though?" Dawn asked, before everyone turned to look at
Willow, myself included.

"You know, it might not be me," Willow said grumpily.  "It could be some
baddie, who thinks this would be the perfect way to get rid of the Slayer .
. ."

"By making her fall completely in love with a vampire?" Anya asked.  "Yes,
it's a truly diabolical plot."

I glared at Anya for saying that.  I so wasn't in love with Spike.

But as soon as I thought that, my heart gave a queer, funny thump.  I know I
must have grown pale.  I couldn't be in love with Spike, could I?

I looked over at him, at how tense he was, and I felt a bubbling of concern
for him.  He looked so upset, so unhappy.  Like he thought this wasn't what
I wanted and it was all his fault.

Before I could say anything to reassure Spike, Willow started talking.  "I
don't think that's what happened--at least, that wasn't what the spell was
supposed to do."

"So it was you!" Dawn said in dismay.

"Well, this wasn't supposed to happen!" Willow protested.  "I was working on
a potion that I thought would act like a truth spell, by causing people to
reveal that which they keep hidden.  Buffy tasted it, so there you have it.
Although I don't know why she's ga-ga for Spike, of all people."

I felt my mouth drop open in anger.  "If not Spike, who else?" I insisted,
jumping up from my place on the couch.  I reached out and grabbed Spike's
hand, only for him to pull free.  I looked up at him, and while his face was
blank, his jaw was tight, a small muscle jumping in it.

Willow must have realized what she had said, and she looked up at Spike.
She bit her lip, and said, "Spike . . ."

"Must be your dream come true," Xander said bitterly.

I tried not to glare at Xander.

He ignored Xander, thank goodness.  "How do you stop it?" he asked Willow.

His voice was so numb.  I couldn't help dropping my eyes from his face after
a moment.  You'd have to be blind--or just simply uncaring--not to realize
that all his emotions were in his eyes.  And those eyes were full of misery.
I twisted my hands together so that I wouldn't reach out for him, hug him,
try to make him feel better.

Because I was the very reason he felt so miserable.  And any of those kinds
of displays, no matter how compelled I was to make them, would only cause
him more pain.  I hate paradoxes like that.

"Awww, don't like the girls throwing themselves at you, Spikey?"

Dawn elbowed Xander and hissed, "Xander!"

"Spike, I know this is difficult . . ." Willow started saying.

"Damn it, Red.  'Difficult' doesn't begin to describe it.  Take the bloody
spell off."

I'm sure I must have looked heart-broken, based on the look that Willow
threw me.  But I didn't care at this point.  It was all about Spike.

"I will!  I promise.  Just give me some time to figure it out.  Shouldn't
take more than an hour, tops," she said, trying to smile in a reassuring
manner.

I didn't feel very reassured, though.  Once again, a spell of Willow's was
jerking Spike and I around.  Sure, this time some of the blame laid with me,
for assuming that the potion was edible and not magical.  But still, this
was all Willow's fault.  I felt a wave of anger rise up in me, and I took a
step towards Willow.

Suddenly, Spike's hand on my arm made me stop completely and look up at him.
"Come on, Slayer," he said, his eyes knowing.  "Let's leave Red to her
work."

Willow nodded.  "Yeah, Spike, can you keep her busy while I'm working?"

"What?" we said in unison.

"What does he need to do that for?" Xander asked.

"How is he going to keep her busy?" Anya said in her "Ooo, let's talk about
orgasms!" voice.

Willow rolled her eyes.  "'Cause I need all of your help, and with the way
this potion isn't working according to plan, I'd rather have someone stay
with Buffy, just in case.  And, hello!  I don't mean for him to keep her
busy like *that*."

There were nods--some grudging--and everyone trooped into the dining room.
I looked up at Spike, who finally removed his hand from my arm.  I missed
it, but I smiled a little at him.  "Thanks.  I was starting to feel a bit .
. . snippy with Willow."

He nodded.  "Picked up on that.  If looks could kill, Slayer," he said with
a twist of his mouth.

I sighed.  "Yeah, you'd know what that looks like, wouldn't you?"  He just
ducked his head, and I couldn't help the regret that came over me.  If only
. . .

***

Okay, being in my room with Spike?  Pretty wiggy.

I had never let him sleep over, not even when Dawn wasn't around.  Because
there was just too much risk in someone finding out.  And there was also the
factor that sleeping with him in my bed?  So not something I was ready for.

Of course, that was then, this is now.

I watched him pace around my room as I sat on my bed.  He looked so tense,
so upset.  I wished there was something I could do to make this better.  Or
at least not so hard.

"I'm worried about Dawn," I said, thinking that talking about something
other than us might calm him down.

He seemed a bit confused--which was becoming a natural expression for him
when he was around me--so I explained.  "She was so mixed up over that R.J.,
and ever since then, I've noticed that she's keeping to herself more at
school.  She never talks about any friends, she doesn't seem to hang out
with anyone during lunch, she seems to be avoiding boys . . ."  I paused.
"I hate that she seems so self-conscious about that."

"Stands to reason," he commented.  "She's a teenager.  It's all about what
her mates think, not what she thinks."

Yay!  He's talking to me!  I tried to stay serious and not bounce from the
happiness.  Because I really was worried about Dawn, and I knew Spike cared,
too, even though his relationship with Dawn was worse than the one between
him and me.

"Yeah, I know something about that," I said with a frown.  "I'm going to
have to say something to Xander."

"Huh?"

I looked up at him.  "About what he was saying downstairs.  You've proved
yourself--Xander shouldn't keep attacking you."

"Why not?" he asked bitterly.  "We all know what happened."

Oh, don't even try that, Bleach Boy.

"No, *we* don't all know what happened," I said, my voice angry.  "Xander
came in and put things together, and he's never listened to me when I've
told him that he doesn't have all the pieces.  But the two of us--we know
what really happened."

Spike snorted.  "I wouldn't say that."

"Spike . . ."  I was trying not to get too pushy, to let Spike do what he
wanted, but I needed to get through to him.  I patted the bed next to me.
"Sit down, okay?  The pacing is making me a bit dizzy."

Spike looked at me, and he looked like he wished he could be anywhere but
here.  I'm not sure I wanted to get into this conversation now, either.  But
when would we be even close to the opportunity to talk about it?

He walked over to the bed, and looked down at me for a moment.  I tried to
look friendly and concerned, nothing more.  He sat down, but he jumped a bit
when I reached over and took his hand.

"I hate the fact that no one's talking now," I said, looking at our joined
hands.  "There's all these land mines all over the place, and I keep
stepping on them.  And that's the last thing we need right now--we all need
to find the land mines, and defuse them, and everything."  I stopped
babbling, and managed to get my thoughts together.  I looked up at him.
"Spike . . ."

He cleared his throat.  "Yeah?" he asked.

I took a deep breath.  "You've been one of the best things to ever happen to
me.  I know, I know, you don't see it that way.  But you are.  You're
wonderful."

Spike stood up, turning his back on me.  "Not really, Slayer."

I started getting worried.  He didn't really believe that, did he?  No, he
couldn't--this had to be his depression talking.  But I had to snap him out
of this.  "Spike, you are.  And if I have to spend a century telling you
that, I'm going to do that."

Spike sighed heavily, and started pacing again.  And I wondered if it was
wrong for me to want to kill one of my oldest friends, for putting the two
of us through this.

***

"I'm sorry this happened."

Spike stopped his pacing.  "What, love?"

Love!  He called me love!  In that deep chocolate-covered voice!

I shook my head quickly.  "I mean, I'm sorry that you're so uncomfortable.
I-I know this isn't what you want."

He waved a hand.  "It's nothing.  But what about you?  Aren't you upset
about having to say things you don't mean?"

I looked up at him, and wondered if I should tell him the truth.  Tell him I
hadn't been saying anything I didn't feel, but was normally too scared, too
defensive to say.  And the look on his face gave me my answer.  He wasn't
ready, not yet, to hear the truth.  But maybe, if I waited and worked up to
it . . .

I shrugged and smiled at him.  "I guess I'm getting used to love spells
putting the wacky on me.  At least I'm not embarrassing myself in front of
strangers."

He grinned a bit at me.  I went on, happy that I got a grin.  "It could be
worse--what if Willow had come in, and not you?  Or Anya?"  I screwed up my
face in horror, and Spike laughed.  Laughed!  It was small, and a bit rusty,
but he laughed.  And I felt my smile get even bigger.

"Yeah, can't imagine Demon Girl would have minded much," he said, dropping
down next to me on the bed.  He leaned back a bit, mirroring my position and
seeming a bit more comfortable.  And it was . . . nice, you know.  To lay
there, feeling content and happy for the first time in a long while.

So of course I had to mess it up.

"Besides, this time is already better than before.  I mean, Xander hasn't
caught me making out with you on top of a desk yet. . ."

As soon as I said it, I could see Spike tense up.  Oh, crap.  Not only had I
reminded him of what had happened while I was invisible, but now he knew
what I had nearly done with R.J.

He jumped off the bed and headed towards the door into the hall.

"Spike!" I said, getting up to follow him.  "Please, please, I'm sorry.  I
wasn't thinking . . ."

He kept his back to me, and I could see when he let the tension out of his
shoulders.  But it wasn't in relief; it was in despair.  "It's all right,
Slayer.  I'm going to take a smoke."  And with that, he walked out of my
room.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  Oh, God.  It had been going so well.  I
had been so sure that I could manage to convince him that this wasn't the
spell talking--that it was me.  But now?  Oh, it was so hopeless!  I turned
around, grabbing a pillow off my bed and hugging it to my chest.  Stupid
vampire.  Couldn't he see how important he was to me?  I was just too scared
to tell him what I felt, and the things I did to show that I cared obviously
hadn't worked at all.  I pulled the pillow, and suddenly my room was full of
fluff.  I looked down and realized I had ripped the pillow apart.

And with a room covered in Fiberfill and without the vampire that I might
love, it seemed a good time to cry.

***

After a while, the crying got boring.  I mean, you can only cry so much, and
eventually you're tired of feeling all stuffed-up and having to continually
wipe your cheeks to get rid of the tears.  Spike hadn't come back, so I went
downstairs to see what was going on with reversing the spell.

Well, it was more like I snuck downstairs.  Because I was curious about what
everyone thought, and honestly, I didn't know what I thought of my behavior.
There was a bit of embarrassment, sure, but it was more because everyone was
making a big deal out of the fact that I was so nice--and then some--to
Spike.  But the thing that made it easier for me was knowing that these
weren't new thoughts for me.  I was just saying them, for once.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the voices in the dining
room.  They were all talking about the spell, and then I heard Spike's
voice.

"Willow, if you haven't found a way to reverse this, the Slayer is going to
send me 'round the bend--again."

I nearly turned right around and ran back up to my room.  God, what was I
doing to him?  Had I screwed things up so much that there was nothing
between us now?

"Nearly there," I heard Willow say.  "Uh-huh . . . okay, got it.  Xander, go
grab the saucepan with the potion and bring it in here, will you?"

There was a heavy shuffle as Xander walked into the kitchen and then came
back, and then a clang as the pan was set on the floor.  I guessed Willow
had drawn a circle on the floor--I just hope she didn't draw the circle on
the carpet.  If the rug got damaged, who knew when I could replace it.

"Don't you need Buffy down here?" Dawn asked.

"Nah--I don't need her.  Probably would be easier, if she was alone when the
spell is lifted.  Let her have a few moments to herself," Willow said.

What?  Because obviously caring about Spike was such a traumatic event.  I
rolled my eyes and listened as Willow said some words in Latin.  I was
expecting to feel some kind of . . . well, something, when the spell was
lifted, but I didn't feel anything.  Maybe it was one of those anticlimactic
spell reversals?

"Buffy!" Willow shouted.  "Could you come down here, please?"

I waited a few moments, then loudly clomped down the last few stairs and
entered the dining room.  For a moment, I just looked around, at the faces
of my friends.  The people who couldn't believe that I would ever have any
feelings for Spike.  The ones that had such a huge impact on my life, both
good and bad.  I almost felt like I didn't know them.  But there was one
person that I knew, inside and out, through good and bad, and I couldn't
stand to be away from him any longer, no matter what.

"Can't get away from me that easily, Spike," I said, crossing to stand
beside him.  I leaned up and whispered, "To make you hear everything I want
to say, I might have to tie you to the bed."

Okay, might have been a bit too much, based on his reaction, but it wasn't
like I didn't mean it!

I could tell that everyone in the room was upset the spell hadn't been
reversed.  Xander in particular was scowling a lot.  Suddenly, I remembered
what I had said earlier, and I took a step towards him.  "Hey, Xander, I
have a few words for you.  How dare you treat Spike . . ."

Spike grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the stairs.  "Not now, pet.
Let's go talk some more upstairs."

"What?  Come on, Spike . . ."  Okay, so I didn't protest that much, and
don't think I didn't notice how relieved Xander looked that Spike was taking
care of me.  You'd think after seven years of friendship Xander wouldn't be
so scared of me . . .

***

It was getting late, and so far, Willow hadn't found another way to remove
the spell.  For a while, Spike had asked Dawn to "help" him.  I knew he was
just too nervous to be alone with me without a chaperone.  But thanks to my
nudging, Dawn and Spike talked a bit, which was what they needed--to get
some things out in the open so they could get their relationship back on
track.  They had been such close friends while I was gone, and when I came
back, it seemed to fall apart, just like a lot of things around here.

Eventually, though, Dawn got tired of protecting Spike and left, and so it
was just the two of us.  And I was tired of not opening up all the way with
Spike.  I had been as round-about as I could, with the spell on me and all,
but as the hours passed, I kept saying things that were more and more
honest.  Like how much I worried about him, and how I wished he'd wear blue
more often, and how I had seen an odd demon on patrol the other night so he
should come with me to help me identify it.

When the whammy was first put on me, Spike was so tense.  Gradually, though,
I could see that he was softening, thanks to what I was saying.  He liked
having me say those kinds of things to him.  But he still seemed completely
clueless about why I was saying them and what they meant.

But I was starting to figure it out.  I never thought I'd be able to act
like this with anyone, let alone Spike.

I was acting like a girlfriend.  And I liked it.  I liked this feeling, of
wanting to take care of one person.  I'm the Slayer, I take care of the
whole world.  But the whole world doesn't thank you when you prevent a god
from unleashing hell on earth.  Spike, though?  He looks at you with those
blue eyes that get all soft, and he's got this cute little smile, and if he
wasn't a vampire, he'd so be blushing.

And it does something to my insides, to know that he knows that I care, and
that he likes it.  And I'm starting to wonder if I should just go for it,
damn the spell.

We've been talking all evening about all kinds of things, and I finally work
up the courage to ask him to talk a bit about himself before he was turned.
He's all surprised that I asked, and he actually sits down on my bed before
he starts talking.  I get swept up in his stories about living in Victorian
England, and how different he was then.  I sense that he's not telling me
everything, but I let it go for now.

It's so good, to sit and talk like this, and when he finished, I can't help
reaching over and grabbing his hand for a quick squeeze before letting it
go.  "Spike?"

"Yeah, love?"

"I know this has been a really hard day for you and everything.  And I am
sorry for that.  But this has been . . . really nice, you know?"

He nodded, and opened his mouth, but I rushed on.  "I know that last year
was just the uber-suck.  I did things to you that are just . . ."  I felt my
breath catch, but I swallowed and kept talking.  "They were unforgivable.
Because I never told you that you were important, even when I expected you
to be at my beck and call.  And I know this isn't what you want to hear, but
I want you to know . . ."

I stopped, not sure what I wanted to say.  He was looking at me, with that
sad, resigned look on his face.  Like I was another cross he had to bear.
And I hated that look.  And I didn't know how to get rid of it.

Well, actually, I had one idea.  But I wasn't sure it was the right one.
And it could backfire in a colossal, destroy-the-world kind of way.  Because
if it didn't work, I had a feeling Spike would finally give up and get out.
And that would . . . that would be too much for my fragile little world.

Oh, hell.  I'm tired of dancing.  "I love you."

He shook his head.

That's it?  I tell you I love you, and you shake your head?  You're not
getting out of this so easily.

I moved closer to him.  "Don't shake your head like that.  Come on, Spike,
talk to me."

He shook his head again.  "No.  Not going to happen."

"Why?" I said, trying not to give in to the voice in my head that was
screaming 'no-no-no-you-fucked-it-up!'

"Because you're under a spell.  And later tonight, or tomorrow, when Red
finally fixes things, you'll hate the fact that you even said it.  I'm not
going to put myself through that.  I may be love's bitch, but I'm getting
smart enough to know not to talk about it."  He sighed, and muttered under
his breath, "Talking always got me into trouble before."

"Okay, I am going to methodically destroy your reasons for not believing
me," I said, crossing my arms across my chest.  "First off, it's a truth
spell!  I'm not saying anything I don't really feel.  And you may say
they're just passing thoughts, but considering how much I've been saying
about you today, it's more than that.  Secondly, when the spell is removed,
I'm not going to hate myself--or, at least, I'll hate myself for never
telling you all these things.  Because I should have told you how important
you were, and not just with the slaying."

I took a deep breath and continued, hoping he was listening and hearing me.
"Finally, you're right.  Your mouth has gotten you into a lot of trouble
before.  And talking has never been something I'm good at, either.  So we
were both letting actions speak louder than words."  I bit my lip, and
reached out to touch his shoulder.  "But I wanted to give you the words.
Obviously, they're not enough, so this will have to make up for them."

And I pulled him closer to me and kissed him.

We've had better kisses, honestly.  Longer, harder, more passionate.  But
that didn't matter.  Because it started out as me kissing him, and I knew it
was just as big a gamble as telling him I love him.  But then, he started
kissing me.

And while it'll never be our best kiss, I like to think it's our most
memorable kiss.  Because it's the first time we kissed while we were in
love.

Of course, the fact that it was followed by the first time we'd made love
while actually being in love was unforgettable, too.

It's funny.  When you're in love, you're so scared, but you're also so
brave.  I didn't even realize the spell had lifted until the next day, when
Willow finally performed the spell reversal.  This time, I did feel a little
shiver.  And I admit, I was a little less over-the-top after the spell was
removed.  But no one could deny that I was clearly in love with Spike.  Not
even the vampire in question.

So it's all Willow's fault that Spike and I are together, for real.  We had
our first kiss, ever, thanks to her.  And we had our first real kiss because
of Willow.

I think she kinda regrets this, especially when we get a little too vigorous
at night.  But Willow's a born romantic--I'm sure she's happy for me--for
us.

And if it gets too bad, she can always move out.

End.

Melissa Rabey
dettiot@yahoo.com

My site:  http://www.lostinwonderland.org
My LiveJournal:  http://www.livejournal.com/users/dettiot/