Disclaimer: The characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" belong entirely to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc. This work of fanfiction is not being written for any financial gain. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13 this chapter.
Feedback: Please leave as detailed a review as you possibly can so we know wheth4ere we are doing this right or not. Our many thanks to those loyal fans who have encouraged us so far, and who await each chapter anxiously.
Author's note: Apologies for the delay in getting this one up. We are going to try to get the next one up within the next two weeks. Mega shout-outs to the gang at "The World of Buffy and Angel" boards at AOL for all their support in encouraging us to keep going with what has turned out to be fairly time consuming undertaking. I have a feeling that a few people might get either offended or at least annoyed by this next chapter. All I can say is that there is method in our madness, even is there is too much madness in our method :-)
Chapter Five
The Time Has Come the Walrus Said
Part II
Written by Phil, Sasha, and Jules
****
There had been a night, a very long time ago when she had been about fifteen, that Buffy had sneaked out of the house to go meet her boyfriend Tyler in downtown L.A for some late night clubbing. Her mom had been waiting for her when she slipped back into her room at 1:30 in the morning and it had seemed to Buffy that no human being in history had ever been that furious. Joyce Summers had quite literally turned red during a heated conversation that had quickly turned into a brutal screaming match. Buffy had never seen her mother that angry before and the memory of how oddly out of character it had been had always stayed with her. Now, for the first time, she clearly understood where that rage had come from.
Fear. Overwhelming, gut-churning, soul-harrowing fear. It was the understanding that someone you loved beyond words could be in mortal danger that cut deeper than anything imaginable, and it was accompanied by the knowledge that it was all caused by a level of stupidity and willfulness that went beyond Buffy's comprehension. The rising anger, combined with remnants of the sickening fear still roiling around in the pit of her stomach, only served to push her past the point of reason. She simply needed the tiniest of excuses and, true to form; the petulant teenager now standing in front of her provided the spark.
"Look, take it easy, okay? It's not like I did anything that you haven't done before," Dawn whined to her older sister. "I mean, you used to sneak out all the time when you were my age and..."
"Trust me when I tell you that this conversation is so not about me at the moment." Buffy cut her off, the anger continuing to rise. "How could you be so stupid, Dawn? How? After I specifically told you not to go out by yourself as long as this new vampire is running around loose out there? Did you even bother to listen to me? No. You didn't. You lied right to my face and said you understood what I was telling you and instead you run out the first chance you get to hang out with a bunch of your friends, drinking beer? How could you, Dawn?" She finished, trying desperately to fight back tears of stinging outrage and betrayal.
"Me? What about you, Buffy? You rant and rave about some big bad lurking in the shadows out there, and then you completely run off to hang out with Angel's broody self? How come I have to take this ‘new evil’ threat any more seriously than you do?”
“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me,” Buffy snapped back at her. “Visiting Angel is a hell of a lot different than hanging out in the middle of the Hellmouth at night. This is all about you, Dawn. How can you be so arrogant? So damned foolish? You’re just lucky no vamp was strolling by at the time- and what’s worse, you were drinking! Dawn, what do you even know about those guys? What would have happened if they got you totally plastered, alone in their car..."
“Brad and Jake aren’t like that!” Dawn yelled.
“Yeah, and I’m Mother Theresa!” Buffy yelled back at her. “I don’t care what you think of those jocks, underage drinking is not acceptable! None of what you did tonight is. Forget the vampires for a minute, how were you going to get home? Have that boy drive you home drunk? Did you even think about that? Did you even think? Or did you just want to be cool and chug some beers?”
Dawn looked decidedly bored with Buffy’s lecturing at this point, and said rather uninterestedly, “Yeah, well I guess if I had turned into a cavewoman, I’d be more cautious about beer too.” It took her a second to fully realize just how far she had gone.
Buffy felt a sharp stab of anger, which was quickly washed away with a deep sense of disappointment. She took a deep breath, taking a moment to collect herself. "You know what, Dawn? I'm Sorry if I’ve been over-protective lately. I’d just rather know my sister is safe at home then having to worry about burying another person I love. So, I apologize if my concern for you is such an inconvenience to your social life, but you've pushed me too far this time and now it's time that you paid for it.”
"Buffy," Dawn continued, foolishly trying to dig herself out of a serious mistake. "I'm sorry, okay? I know what I did was wrong...and I promise I won't do it again. I swear."
"Yeah, I think we all know just what your promises are worth after this, don't we?" Buffy replied icily. "But you are right about one thing, you won't do it again. Ever. As of right now, you don't go anywhere except to school and back and when you do go, you'll go with either Tara or me. We'll drop you off every morning in front of the school and pick you right after class. That okay with you, Tara?" she asked the witch, who had been standing next to Buffy the entire time, looking both relieved and decidedly uncomfortable at the conflict shaping up in front off her. Dawn looked rebellious but didn't seem eager to push it.
Tara nodded quickly. "I guess I should go get started on that spell, then?" she asked.
"Uh-huh, " The Slayer responded. "Right now, if you could."
"What spell?" Dawn asked suspiciously, watching Tara walk up the stairs.
"She's going to put a warding spell on your bedroom. Nothing will be able to get in or out through the window. Just so you know, she'll be putting a temporary one on the door too, every night after you go to bed. You won't be able to leave once she casts it. Not until she dispels it in the morning. And that's how it's going to be around here from now on, young lady."
"For how long?" the teenager asked sullenly, realizing that she was totally defeated and that her sister was dead serious abut punishing her.
"Until I say so. That's how long. At this point, Dawn, I'm thinking of making it permanent. You've proved that I can't treat you like an adult. Fine, you get the toddler treatment. We can do this until you're eighteen if we have to." Buffy answered her, the anger still playing havoc with her stomach.
"WHAT?" the younger girl screeched at her guardian. "You can't do that! It's not fair..."
"Fair?" Buffy nearly hissed at her. "You want to talk about what's not fair? Okay then. What's not fair is sneaking off in the middle of the night without telling Tara anything. Not fair is having Xander and Anya drive all over town for nearly an hour looking for your sorry ass. Not fair is Spike having to hunt through every sleazy make-out spot in Sunnydale when he had better things to do. And not fair, you thoughtless little brat, is scaring the hell out of me, letting me think you could be hurt or worse...just so you could meet some losers with that worthless idiot Janice."
She was nearly sobbing with rage and frustration. She hadn't been this terrified since she'd been back and it was hitting her now, all at once.
Dawn, her eyes brimming with tears, finally seemed to grasp the enormous stupidity of what she had done. "Buffy, I'-I'm so..."
"What? You're sorry Dawn? Yeah, you are. You're about the sorriest person I know, and as far as you're concerned, the saying "grounded for life" should be taken as a valid alternative lifestyle and not just another really annoying TV sitcom. Now, please get out of my sight before I do or say something that we'll both regret."
As Dawn ran crying from the living room towards the stairs, Buffy shouted after her "Oh, by the way, that upstairs phone is coming out tomorrow afternoon. And I don't want you talking to Janice again. EVER!"
Suddenly, she found herself feeling very lightheaded, as if the only thing that had been keeping her together was her intense anger at Dawn. God, she hated feeling like this about her sister, but tonight had been the last straw. Dawn's rebelliousness had been getting worse for weeks and she knew that the younger girl had some unresolved issues about Buffy's death and subsequent resurrection but this? This evening had just been...insane.
Tara came walking down the stairs shaking her head. "Okay Buffy, it's all done, but you might want to check on her later. She's really upset and..." She stopped short as she saw the tears on her friend's face. "A-Are you okay?"
Buffy nodded. "I'll live, Tara. It's just-God. How could she be so stupid? She could have been killed...or worse." She shuddered at the thought of how many things could happen to her sister with a powerful vampire gang running loose in town. "It's not like we didn't go through this last year with Harmony."
""I know. I think she gets it now, though Buffy. Or she will, when she calms down and gets a good night's rest. Maybe you should too. Get some rest, I mean. You’ve had a really rough day, what with seeing Angel again after all this time and this thing with Dawnie." Tara smiled and put her arm on Buffy's shoulder. "Things will be better in the morning."
Buffy smiled wistfully at that. "I think you're right. Can't be much worse, right? Anyway, I didn't get much to eat tonight. You want a sandwich or something? I make a pretty mean peanut butter and jelly," Buffy asked, suddenly not wanting to be alone.
Tara shook her head. "I had a pretty good supper. As a matter of fact, if you don't mind I have something that I should probably take care of tonight-unless you want me to stay."
"No, that's okay. "I'll be fine. Honestly," She added quickly at Tara's pensive look.
"Okay then, I won't be gone very long though. Promise. Cross my heart...and stick a needle in my eye." She grinned at the Slayer.
"Go on, and thanks ever so much for leaving that middle part out." Buffy grinned back.
As Tara closed the front door behind her, Buffy made her way into the kitchen-and stopped dead in her tracks, not really sure she was seeing what she was seeing. Spike was standing in front of the sink, with a dish in one hand and a towel in the other, making what appeared to be a very half-assed attempt to dry the plate, and managing to get cigarette ashes all over the floor. The absurdity of watching the vampire do kitchen work, suddenly struck her as hysterically funny and she burst out laughing.
Spike looked positively chagrined as he fumbled with the plate. "Bleeding Hell, Slayer. You could give a fella fair warning before you burst in on 'im like that."
"What are you talking about? This is my kitchen, remember? Which begs the question: what are you doing in it? I didn't think you were still here." She replied, still chuckling. Oh well, at least he isn't wearing mom's kiss the cook' apron. That sobered her a bit. Thoughts of her mother always did.
"I thought I'd stick around a while. In case you needed me for anything, that is. Patrols or the like. Umm, is the 'bit’ okay?" The concern in his voice was palpable.
Buffy nodded grimly. "She'll get over it. She'll have to. And yeah, I wouldn't mind the break tonight. If it's not a problem?"
"Not at all," the vampire said, putting the dish down and reaching for his duster, which was sitting on the back of one of the breakfast table chairs.
"What, taking off already?" she asked him, suddenly desperate for his company, anybody's company.
"Well, yeah, I kinda figured you'd want to be left on your own tonight, what with nibblet going missing and you visiting 'peaches' an all." Spike's voice dropped a bit on that last part.
"Sit down," she commanded, trying to brush away thoughts of her meeting with Angel. "I was just about to make myself some dinner. PB and J okay with you? I'm afraid I don't have any blood in the fridge though. You'll have to make do with milk like normal people, for a change."
Spike shrugged and promptly sat down at the table. "Who am I to argue with the mistress of the house?" He leered at her in his usual obnoxious manner, putting special emphasis on the word 'mistress'.
"God, could you possibly be any more annoying?" she muttered back at him while dragging the bread and peanut butter out of the refrigerator.
“Suppose I could give it a try, luv. It’s what I do best after all-well second best. Umm, extra jam if you please. I’ve got a sweet tooth.”
Grunting with annoyance, Buffy slopped the jelly on the sandwich, whirling it around a bit with her knife. You know you lead an interesting life when you find yourself making snacks for vampires at 10:30 at night, she thought to herself morbidly. Finishing quickly, she cut the two sandwiches up and slapped them each on a plate, placing Spike’s in front of him, along with a tall glass of milk.
He took a quick drink and made such a bitter face that she almost laughed again.
“What’s the matter, not high enough in type O pos for you?”
“Nah, it’s just that I hate skim milk. Don’t you have anything a mite stronger than this?” He said, pushing the glass back.
Sighing she reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer, “Here you go. I think it’s one of Xander’s. He must have left it here the last time the gang was over.”
Spike appeared to be in the middle of making a snarky comment at Xander’s expense but at the sign of her scowl, he merely popped the lid and drank deeply. Buffy sat down and began eating, rolling her eyes in mock-disgust as the vampire slurped the sandwich down and licked the excess jelly off his fingers with relish.
"Not bad," he said, grinning at her. "I prefer a bit o' blood with my peanut butter but that hit the spot quite nicely. Tar, pet."
"Happy to oblige," she relied, playing with the edge of her sandwich somewhat absent-mindedly.
"Umm, something wrong, Buffy?" He asked. "Other than the obvious that is."
"No. It's...it's nothing. Okay? Nothing I want to talk to you about anyway." But a part of her did need to talk to somebody and Spike, while not her preferred choice was here. Not Giles, not Xander, not even Tara at the moment. And Willow? The less she thought about that right now the better. Spike was here, now, and he seemed to actually care about what she thought... and since when did he do that? God, this is so weird.
"Sure about that? Might be that a sympathetic ear is what you need. So, spill then. What is it? Dawn? Trust me luv, she'll get over it eventually. She just needs time to realize how badly she bollixed things up tonight, and she'll see that you were right to lose your bottle. I nearly took her head off my own bloody self, and you know what an easy going sort, I am."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She said, slowly ignoring his attempt at humor. "But it's not really that. I mean yeah, it's that-on top of other things, but it's also..."
"Angel." He finished for her. "So how is Grand-Dad these days? Still prancing about La-la land like a great bloody poof?" Seeing her displeased expression, he relented a bit. "Sorry about that. I can't help it. The bugger gets under my skin."
"It's okay Spike. You've gotta be you. But you're right, he does...umm get under your skin, I mean," she replied testily. "Anyway, he's fine. More than fine, actually. He seems to really have his life together these days."
Buffy desperately hoped that the slight taste of bitterness that she felt in her mouth when she said that hadn't come out in that statement. After all, who was she to resent the fact that her ex-lover seemed to have finally got to a place where he seemed content with his life. He's moved on, she thought to herself, the bitterness increasing just a tiny bit. He's moved on and it's not with me. Rationally of course, she had always known that they were never going to be together again. They'd been through too much, hurt each other too much, and grown too far apart to ever have made it work, as much as they still loved one another. But that all that didn't change the fact that there had always been the hope, buried all the way down in some nearly unreachable crevice in her soul, that they would somehow find some way to be together in the end. Tonight had seen the final severing of that hope.
"Well, good on peaches then." Spike's voice brought her out of her brooding. "Bleeding marvelous in fact." He sounded somewhat less than sincere. "Say, how did he find out that-about you know, you being back and all."
"Willow told him." she said glumly. "Or actually, Willow told Cordelia-and Cordy told Angel."
Spike raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "So the cheerleader's still with the old boy, eh? Again, I say: Good on peaches. She always was a bit of a dish." The vampire was actually smirking at that, which managed to raise her blood pressure just a bit.
"Shut up, Spike. They're just good friends. There's nothing more to it, if that's what you're not so subtly getting at. God, you're disgusting," she snapped at him.
"So you've said, luv. Repeatedly. I'm not about to deny the charge. Besides, I'm told it's one of my better qualities. I do find it rather interesting though, that you're getting so defensive about it. Where there's smoke there's fire, an' all that." He leered at her again, in that incredibly annoying, and terribly sexy manner he had about him that never failed to make her blood boil.
Angel and Cordelia? What load of crap that was. They'd been friends for years, although Buffy had never quite been able to understand how Angel put up with her for so long. Fifteen minutes with Cordy and I'm looking for an escape hatch, she thought. And yet, she had to admit that there was something different about Angel these days. Calmer, more confident, decidedly better grounded and quite...well, just different.
They'd talked for hours, after getting over the initial shock of seeing each other again. Of course there had been the awkwardness, the questions that she couldn't answer, and the feelings of regret that he could barely express. After that though, it was almost like it had been in the past. He'd gone on about how his business was doing, his hotel, and more importantly, all the new people in his life, and how dear they were to him. Angel had told her all about how much Wesley had matured into a confident and skilled leader, something she could still barely believe, and all about these other people so much a part of his life now, and so utterly alien to her. Names like Gunn, Fred, and Lorne, which had no meaning for her, but obviously meant the world to him. In all that time though, he'd barely mentioned Cordelia. Just once or twice and then only in passing. Curious as hell.
She realized that she had almost drifted off again, and found herself looking at Spike, who was staring at her unabashedly.
"What?" she asked nervously.
"Nothing," he said rather uncomfortably. "It's just that..." He seemed lost for a moment and then gathered himself together. " It just hit me that this is the first time that you and I have ever been alone together. Like this, I mean. Talking over a sandwich and a glass of milk in your kitchen. Like normal people. I guess it's a bit strange, is all, considering what we've been through."
Buffy shrugged. " I guess. To be honest, I've had worse evenings, if not lately." She attempted a wan smile, suddenly wanting to cheer them both up, but the vampire almost seemed to have something caught in his throat; something he needed to say.
"Buffy." He stopped for just a second and then pushed on with it. "Like I said, we've haven't been alone until now, and there's something I want-no, need to tell you about the night- that night that you...."
She could feel his anguish now and had a good idea what he was talking about. "Spike," she said gently. "You don't have to..."
"No!" he said, a bit too loudly. "I do. I failed you. That night. I told you that I'd protect her. I swore it. And I swear I tried, pet. Honestly, I did. But I couldn't stop it. God, if I'd only been a bit faster or stronger, maybe it wouldn't have happened that way...but it did. We lost you and everybody's suffered, but it's all my fault. I'm to blame...and I just wanted to tell you that. Tell you how sorry I was that I killed you."
Buffy sat listening to his heartfelt confession raptly, watching this creature without a soul un-bare himself to her in a way she would have thought impossible less than a year ago. She believed him though. She could feel his anguish, his remorse and guilt welling up in his words and her heart wept for him. Seeing the tears forming in his eyes, she tenderly reached out and touched his hand with hers.
"It's all right, Spike. You did what you could. I don't blame you for anything. How could I? What you did for us-have done..."
"It wasn't enough," he relied bitterly, recoiling from her touch. "I could have found some way-I should have found a way to save her...to save you. You're both all I bloody well care about and despite my big talk, I'm nothing but a failure. A man's useless if he can't protect what's dear to him. Even if he is just a monster."
"You're not just a monster, Spike. I know I've called you that in the past, but you're more than that. I know that now. You have to be. You couldn't care so much about us and not be more than that." Buffy said, as gently as she could. His pain was almost a physical thing. Who knew somebody without a soul could suffer like this? She thought. "I'll always be grateful for everything you did for Dawn, and the others while I was gone. They've all told me how much you helped them..."
"Gratitude," the vampire snorted, his vast pride reasserting itself. "Keep it, Slayer. I don't want your gratitude or your sympathy. What I want..."
"Spike, I do know what you want from me," she responded firmly. "And I'm sorry. I can't give it to you because I don't love you."
"How do you know, Buffy? You've said that you didn't want me before and we both know what a load of rubbish that is. I can smell the lust in you whenever we're fighting together. I know you feel something for me..."
Buffy broke in before he could complete his sentence. "What do you want me to say? Do I have feelings for you? Yes, I admit it. Am I attracted to you a lot more than I should be? I'd be a liar if I denied it. But it's not love Spike, and even if it was, we could never act on it. Not after everything that I've been through, not with what happened with..."
"Angel." He finished for her. "It's always all about bloody Angel and his bloody on again-off again soul. Well, I don't have a soul, pet. I've got nothing to lose, nothing to make me stop loving you. That psychotic bint Glory nearly pulled me apart piece by sodding piece just to get me to sell Dawn out, but I wouldn't do it because I love you!"
"You do, though. Have something to lose," she said sadly. "You've got that chip. That's what's keeping you from acting like a vampire."
"The chip doesn't make me love you, Buffy. It doesn't have a blessed thing to do with how much I care about Dawn. That's me. And it's real. Everything I feel-It's real." He sounded desperate now.
"No, you're right about that. You do care about us. I don't know how or why, but you do. I think you even care about my friends, even Xander. But it's not about them. It's about everyone else. To you, most humans are just snacks. What did you call them once? 'Happy Meals' on legs? If that chip ever came out, how long would it take for you to start hunting again? What, months, week, days? How long, Spike before I would have to come for you, because I'm the Slayer? Have to do what I did to Angel? I can't, Spike. I can't go through that again and I won't let Dawn be put through it even once. I'm sorry Spike, but that's the truth. You may be more than a monster, but there's still too much monster in you for me ever to trust." She had been speaking quietly, but by the devastated expression on his face, she could tell that screaming at him wouldn't have made the blow any harder for him to bear.
He sat there, for what seemed the longest time. Then he got up determinedly and grabbed his duster. He stopped just as he reached the kitchen door and turned back to her. "Will you say goodnight to Dawn for me?" He asked, the pain in his voice almost more than she could stand.
Buffy nodded. "I'll tell her before I go to bed," she said as he turned back to the door. " And Spike. I'm so very sorry."
"Yeah, you said." He muttered, without facing her again. And just like that, he was gone.
Buffy picked up the two empty plates and set them on the counter. As she turned on the faucet, she noticed that he had left a half empty pack of cigarettes on the counter-top where he had been doing the dishes earlier. Slowly, a solitary tear made it's way past her tear-duct and slid down her cheek, eventually winding up on the floor in the middle of Spike's cigarette ashes.
*****
"Oh, my. That was simply...delicious." Clarissa purred as Terry crawled slowly back up along her body and began to nibble on her earlobe.
"Glad to be of service, hon." the male vampire said as he began to caress his sire's breasts with his hands, while moving his lips over to nuzzle her neck. "It's why you keep me around, remember?"
" I certainly do," she smiled at him, still full from a wonderful meal and lazy from an intense few hours of frenzied lovemaking.
The two of them lay on the ornate four-poster bed that Clarissa's minions had installed in their new lair just a few weeks ago. She had to admit that even though she had been against the idea at first, the choice to settle here had proved to be an excellent one. It was also somewhat ironic, considering what they had all been snacking on earlier that evening. Imagine, me living in a high school, she thought. What would mother say? Well, the sub-basement of one anyway, and a long abandoned burnt-out shell of one at that. Still, the remnants of Sunnydale High did make a comfortable enough refuge for Clarissa and her ever-growing band of vampires.
The progress she had made in the last month had been extraordinary, even by her own high standards. She'd nearly tripled her little gang and set herself up as the most powerful vampire in Sunnydale, building alliances among the demon community here that she would have thought impossible a year ago. Now she was ready to expand her power even more. Tonight had been the first in a series of raids designed to strike fear in the heart of human population of the town. Even more importantly, it was calculated to provoke the Slayer into doing something foolish.
Noticing that his lover was no longer as ardent as she had been a moment ago, Terry nipped her neck, his vampire's teeth drawing small droplets of crimson that stained her porcelain neck. "Penny for your thoughts," he murmured as Clarissa growled with pleasure.
"Umm. If you really most know, dear, I was thinking of how to deal with that pesky little Slayer problem we've got. She's beginning to get on my nerves."
"Are we even sure this is the real Slayer? For all we know, there's a whole army of those damn robots running around this burg." Terry replied, still licking at the blood welling up from the bite marks he had made.
Clarissa nodded. "Oh, she's real enough, lover. No doubt about that. And entirely human. I could smell her blood and anger when we tangled the other night. Little bitch hits like a freight train, too." The vampire rubbed her jaw in memory of the brief fight with Sunnydale's self-appointed guardian angel, who had somehow returned from beyond the grave, without having become a vampire or anything else of an undead nature.
"So, what are we going to do about her then? Same plan as last time?" he asked.
"I don't think so. We won't get another shot at an ambush with this girl. Our new "friend" says she's pretty smart and learns quickly. She'll be expecting us now. So..."
"So?" Terry had stopped nibbling and now flopped over onto his back, shifting back into human form and dragging his lover on top of him.
"So, as long as we're expected we might as well make the most of it. Besides, I love a good entrance." Clarissa grinned at him and began kissing him again quite passionately.
"Geez, don't you two ever get enough?"
Clarissa and Terry were both brought up short by a voice from the makeshift doorway to their private suite. Veronique and Karl, two of Clarissa's L.A. vampires stood at the entrance smirking at them.
"Is it my fault you two have the sex drive of a couple of turnips?" Clarissa groused at them. "What the hell do you want anyway? I'd have thought you'd both be playing with Lysette's new toy."
Karl shook his head. "Still too early for that. The girl hasn't risen yet. Uh, Lysette did want to know if you wanted to call dibs on her when she was ready though, you being the master and all."
Clarissa yawned. " I don't think so. She's got cow eyes and I don't make a habit of screwing livestock, even if Lysette does. Never did understand that girl's tastes. She's all yours. I think I'm covered in that department anyway." She shot Terry a wicked a smile, which prompted a quick kiss. "Just make sure you have somebody to feed to her when she does wake up, and kindly tell Lysette to get her something decent to wear. No member of this family is going to be caught dead in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. I have an image to keep up, you know."
The two vampires nodded. "So, are you planning on getting out of bed any time this week?" asked Veronique.
"Eventually, I suppose." Clarissa replied. "I have to work off that meal somehow though. Man, what a feast. Didn't I tell you the blood had to be sweeter on the other side of the subdivision? I haven't eaten like that in years."
"Yeah, they were tasty enough." Veronique agreed. "But I'm still a little miffed we had to let those other two get away. Especially the really pretty one with the long, shiny hair. She was positively yummy."
The master vampire shrugged. "Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do about it? It's not like I knew the 'Dark Avenger' was going to show up and thin the herd. I got a sneak peek at his act the other day and believe me, I do not like it. What I want to know is what the hell another vampire is doing rescuing little girls and fighting alongside the Slayer. That makes no sense to me whatsoever." She turned back to face her favorite, who was slowly stretching on the bed. "Terry, did you ever check this guy out with the locals for me?"
"Uh-huh." He said as he sat up and regarded the other three vampires. "His name's Spike. The grunts tell me he used to practically run this town, back in the day, that is. Now he works with the Slayer. Nobody really knows why. Something about him not being able to hurt humans anymore, I heard, but no specifics."
"Say," Karl broke in. "When we were back in Hollywood, wasn't there talk of a vampire who hunted demons for a living in L.A.? Supposed to be some sort of super bad-ass? Can't remember his name though. I think it starts with an A or something..."
Veronique frowned. " Right, but I don't think it's him, Karl. Wasn't he supposed to have soul or something like that?" She visibly shuddered at the thought. "This guy doesn't have a soul, does he, Clary?"
"Nope," her sire responded. "Not a whiff. Whatever his major malfunction is, it's not that. Still, he's obviously a threat if he's hanging around with the 'girl wonder' and carrying her cape or whatever it is he does for her. I'm thinking he may need an attitude adjustment. You know, a little wake-up call to remind him which side he's supposed to be on?"
Karl and Veronique grinned at her like twin Cheshire cats. "What exactly did you have in mind, Clary...and does it involve hot pokers and various exotic farm implements?" Karl asked her, his curiosity clearly bubbling to the surface.
The master vampire merely lay back on the bed and motioned to the other two to leave. "Tell you what, guys. You go find a way to amuse yourselves and I'll get back to you after I think about it a bit. Seriously-we'll do lunch. Hey, while you're at it, get some of those worthless minions and go re-stock the larder. We're down to a mailman and a substitute teacher-and people, that's just not gonna cut it."
As the two vampire henchmen left to go on the prowl, Clarissa grabbed Terry's shoulders and none too gently pushed him back down onto the bed.
"Now, where was I before we were so rudely interrupted?" she asked her lover, who was already becoming aroused again.
"I think you were planning on figuring out ways to screw the Slayer and her vampire flunky," he said, his face shifting back into vampire mode.
"Right." Clarissa hissed back at him, also shifting as the passion took her over. "But first things first. One screwing at a time, I always say."
******
Standing in the ladies room on the third floor of Anderson Hall, Tara peered into the mirror for what seemed like the tenth time. Her dark blonde hair looked fine, and she’d chosen the shirt with Willow in mind, tight enough to be attractive, but not overly aggressive. “I look okay.” She told herself. "Willow will want to talk…work things out.” A small voice inside her head was mumbling about what a horrible idea it was; Willow would never stop using magic. The rest of Tara’s instincts screamed at her not to give up, there had to be some love left in Willow’s heart, in spite of all the changes that her lover had gone through during the past summer. Tara frowned at her expression in the mirror, briefly. The expression just wasn’t natural on her face, so she couldn’t hold it for long, “Well, here goes…”
As she approached Willow’s room, Tara’s trepidation about taking this route seemed to double with each step, until she was nearly choking on her doubts right outside the door. At the same time, a small part of her wondered exactly how Willow had managed to snag a solo occupancy room in one of the exclusive dorms on campus. She shook off all the negative feelings and steeled herself to what do what she had come for. “It’s much too late to turn around now,” she told the door. “If I do, I’ll never know for sure.”
She hesitated for a brief moment as she thought again about the things that had happened between them and the nagging self-doubt washed up over her in waves. She knocked quickly, before the urge to run became overpowering.
“I'll get it!" Willow yelled through the door. Then Tara heard her calling to someone else. "It's probably the Chinese food. Hang on, I'm..." Willow flung the door open, holding her robe closed, barely. Tara could see she had no shirt on underneath it, “coming.” Willow finished lamely, apparently realizing a little too late how bad that sounded.
The two women stared at each other for a very long moment before Tara spoke, “I…uh…came to talk…” Tara began but the rest of her words died on her lips as Crispin McDermott emerged from what appeared to be the bedroom.
"Willow, darling did you see where I put my shirt?" the literature professor asked before he realized that they were not alone. "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know that you had a guest."
I could say the same thing, Tara thought bitterly as she realized exactly what was going on. At least McDermott had the decency to look somewhat uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for Willow. Her ex-lover stood in the doorway with a decidedly smug expression on her face.
"Sure, Tara. I'd love for you to join us. Crispin would probably get a kick out of it too." Willow's leer made it pretty clear what she was suggesting and it made Tara sick to her stomach.
"N-no, I-I made a mistake," was about all she could manage in response. "I s-should go."
"Suit yourself, honey. Too bad though because you really don't know what you're m-missing," Willow said in a more hurtful a manner than Tara had ever heard her use.
That last bit, the deliberate taunting using Tara's stutter against her, was the final straw. “Willow! How could you? How could you talk to me like l-like...that? How can you have changed this much?” The words were out before Tara could even think about, or temper them, at all.
Willow’s blue eyes darkened, and her pretty features twisted into a furious, blushing scowl, “I can talk to you the way I want to. This is my dorm room and I didn't invite you here. Who are you to judge me anyway? You left me!”
“I had to, Willow! It’s for your own good, can’t you see that?” Tara exploded, just as angrily. Willow's arrogance was plain to see, and the sight of McDermott standing there shirtless, desperately trying to zip up his pants, had stripped away what was left of her self-control. “Using all of this magic is NOT good for you!” she shouted, her fear and hurt pushing her beyond the limits of self- control. “The Urn…” she said, suddenly remembering Spike’s comment. “Maybe it had some effect on you…”
McDermott, who had been standing there all this time, looking somewhat appalled by the confrontation going on in front of him, chose this moment to attempt an intervention. "Willow, maybe you should calm down a bit. Why don't you both take a breather and sit down? We could all discuss this rationally, like adults. It's obvious that there's been some miscommunication here." He reached out and gently put his arm around her should, trying to comfort her, which only made both Willow and Tara angrier.
Willow pushed McDermott away, none too gently, to confront her ex-lover. “Nothing is controlling me but me. I am Willow. You aren’t. Giles isn’t. I know what is good for me! I know how to take care of myself! You all don’t even care that I brought Buffy back. I DID IT! ALONE! Little, timid, pathetic Willow got hers-she likes it and that's what none of you can stand,” she finished bitterly, her eyes flashing with pure rage.
McDermott tried to put his arms around her again, to soothe her, but Willow would have none of it. She shoved him hard enough to make him stumble and fall back onto the couch. Wisely, he chose to stay there, looking up at Tara and Willow with a bewildered expression, while the blond witch dissolved into helpless tears.
“Willow, please, I love you-I’m sorry. After Buffy died, it was horrible. I have no idea how much worse it was for you, but…I want to! We all do-we love you, Willow. I love you…more than anything.” Tara sobbed.
“You love being in control. You love weak, pitiful Willow who does what everyone else tells her to!” Willow snarled in back Tara’s face, any love that may have lingered disappearing, as she got angrier with her lover, her friends, and the world in general. “No one even thanked me for bringing her back!”
“This isn’t you!” Tara countered desperately. “Something's put a spell on you, I know it! I know you. This isn't you. Why else would you be with him? This is wrong, Willow. Something's in control of you. Something...evil." She knew it was a mistake before she’d even gotten the last word out.
“Get out.” Willow hissed, her red hair crackling with suppressed energy and power, the blackness seeping into her eyes again. It struck terror in Tara’s heart, and for the first time, it was true fear for her own life.
Tara hesitated for a long moment, staring at the still beautiful, powerful witch she loved so deeply, then turned and ran as fast as she could, in spite of the tears streaking down her cheeks.
“I love you, Willow," she whispered to herself as she fled the building, and stumbled into the night.
*******
Willow slammed the door shut a little too forcefully, the wood shaking slightly in its frame. Coincidentally, Willow was shaking as well. She had sworn to herself that she was over Tara- after all; she was with Crispin now- but just seeing her made Willow lose control.
She didn’t realize how long she had been staring at the door until Crispin spoke gently behind her.
“Willow.”
She turned, fiercely fighting back the tears that burned in her eyes. She was not going to cry. Not again, not over Tara…not when she had him.
“I brought her back,” Willow whispered, throat aching from the desire to cry, “and they all hate me for it.”
“They don’t hate you,” he assured her, inching slowly towards her. “They just don’t understand. They don’t know everything you’ve sacrificed to give them their friend back.”
“Not even Buffy,” Willow’s continued hollowly. “I worked so hard and…”
“I know,” finished Crispin. They stood a few feet apart, completely silent. Willow stared blankly at the floor, mind still doing cartwheels over her latest argument with her ex-lover. Her morose thoughts where interrupted when Crispin chuckled.
What could he possibly be laughing at? Willow thought furiously, shooting him a piercing glare.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he explained, a small smile on his lips. “I just thought of the time you first showed me magick.”
Her mind reeled, trying to remember…
“I was so curious- I mean, I had dabbled around in some magicks before, read just about every book about the occult- but I had my doubts…” he recalled, his grin widening as his eyes locked with hers. “But you-you were so powerful, so skilled- there was nothing I could do but stare in awe.”
Willow couldn’t stop the shy smile that formed from his compliments.
“Impressive show you put on,” his eyes were teasing. “All those flames-“
She laughed. “Wasn’t too smart, though- flames in a an office usually result in sprinklers.”
Crispin laughed too. “Are you saying you didn’t have fun being drenched? Because I did.”
“It was fun,” she agreed, “But I had to reverse everything-“
“Also impressive, I might add. Just as quick as it had happened, you made everything normal again. The look on the janitor’s face when he rushed in-“ Crispin stopped because they were both laughing too hard for him to continue.
Willow felt some of her anxiety melt away as she chuckled at the memory. She finally brought her eyes level to his, was temporarily surprised at how closely he was standing next to her. He had gradually advanced towards her, now they were mere inches apart. He never broke their gaze as he brushed back a lock of her flaming red hair. Willow felt herself shudder slightly at his touch.
The laughter in his eyes had vanished by this time. They were now filled with seriousness, shimmering with concern. “You,” he breathed, softly kissing her forehead, “Are,” his nose brushed against hers, “Beautiful.” This time his lips met hers. After a moment he pulled away, cupping her face with his hand. “I pity your friends for not realizing what they’ve lost.”
His words deeply touched her, but for some reason Willow couldn’t stop thinking about they way he was touching her. His nearness was dizzying; the skin he stroked was tingling furiously. Willow felt a surge of magick within her; the air around them seemed to be crackling with energy.
Her response to his words was to wrap her fingers in his hair and bring his head closer for another kiss; this one more passionate. Her worries of Tara and the rest of the gang soon vanished, as her mind grew foggier with every caress of Crispin’s hand, the only thing that remained in focus was him. He was there. He cared about her; he adored her for the person she was, not who she used to be. He was all she needed.
She was so wrapped up in the security he was providing for her that she never even saw the gleam of complete victory in his eyes.
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