Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy and, unluckily, neither do Spike. But words – except quotes in brackets [...] - and mistakes are totally mine.

Author’s note: Ok, let’s say it. First fic here. First spuffy fic and first English fic too. So, as first readers should be, be gentle and considerate… pretty pls? *wink*

I don’t have a beta… any suggestion and criticism will be greatly appreciated, and feel free to point out any grammatical glitch or language misuse (Italian here…). And about reviews… I’d love them!! :D
She was stalling, and she knew it.

She knew the answer to his question, she knew her heart and his love.
Nevertheless, she was stalling.

[The day you suss out what you do want, there'll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones...]

Sometimes it seemed the only thing she could do to go on, the only thing she had been doing for years... well, since she was called, anyway.
She had to dedicate most of her energy and time to her sacred duty, and the rest of her life was... slipping away.

Of course, there were good reasons for that.

The ‘thou shall have no future’ clause on the contract she signed the day she accepted to become the Chosen One, for instance. Actually, she didn’t sign and didn’t accept anything, mainly because nobody asked her... but who cares about such a meaningless and trivial detail? Well, clauses certainly not.

[Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you…]

Another good reason was that, since then, her life had been split in two. Two lives, two different worlds. Everyday, every waking hour and, thanks to slayer dreams, while she was sleeping too, she was torn between dark and light, life and death, the ordinary, Buffy-sized world, and the other one in which the Slayer fought her way night after night.

When you can’t think of tomorrow because it’s only today that matters, only the “now” in which you’re fighting and you must survive, kill and kill again... is it really feasible taking a break to ponder your other half, normal life? Obviously not, ‘cos stopping equals getting killed (standard vamps aren’t too keen on jumping on philosophical discussions on the meaning of life... you know, literally dead men walking there), and getting killed means no need to ponder your existence. Life’s a bitch, as usual. Gives you time only when you don’t need it anymore...

Buffy had spent years fighting against the Slayer, trying to get rid of ‘it’, of the calling that was ruining her life, and possibly giving her a premature, painful death. She wanted to regain her normal life, with no monsters, no sacred duty, no blood, hurt and death.

[I quit (...). I don't care! I don't care. Giles, I'm sixteen years old. I don't wanna die]

It took several apocalypses to finally realize that Buffy and the Slayer weren’t two separate entities sharing unwillingly the same body. Because, at the end of the day, the truth was that she cared. A lot. And not just the Slayer, but Buffy too. The need to protect her family, her friends and her world was both Buffy and the Slayer’s. Maybe there was room for some cohabitate arrangements, but ehi, it could work.

So, she had spent the following years trying to blend her Buffy persona with her own, personal Slayer demon (and there was no doubt of the demon-y nature of the spirit of a Slayer... a demon so tangled in her human self to provide strength, endurance, physical and emotional power to struggle, survive and go on...).
Now she was finally close to a well-balanced equilibrium. Over the years she had learnt that the ‘slayer package’ could be so much useful in everyday life too and, surprisingly, that sometimes Buffy did save the Slayer’s day.

[…The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is you've got ties to the world... your mum, your brat kid sister, the Scoobies. They all tie you here…]

There was just one thing to accomplish, one result to achieve...

The superhero half of her life was already set: basically kill, get killed, kill some more, kill your First Love, and, just to be sure, kill yourself and die again... only for a little while, ‘cos, you know... Heaven? too much rest, too... heavenly? So, get your ass dragged back and wonders what? Kill again! The ‘sacred duty’ gig doesn’t involve a lot of imagination, that’s for sure.

[I am destruction (...). Just the kill]

But what about Buffy-Buffy? What about the Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius, passionate, artistic and inquisitive girl she had been, and still was? She knew now that to be whole, integra, she couldn’t reject any part of herself. And she wasn’t just plain death…

[I walk. I talk. I shop, I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back (...). And I don't sleep on a bed of bones]

She was also a girl. A girl who sometimes still whished for a normal life (even if she knew better now... normal was way overrated!), who still painted her toe nails even if she had to wear combat boots, who used her wicked humor to find the funny side of the worst situation, effectively laughing away the pain and the sadness. A girl who wouldn’t sacrifice her ‘fake’ lil sis to save the world and who clung to her family and friends to find strength in their love and affection.

Well, that girl was lost sometimes. Without a direction, a duty to comply.

Stalling.

And it was time to stop. Now. Before dying again and for good. Before he died again, too, and it was too late. For them. For being together again. To be together for the first time ever. She owed him this much. Hell, she owed herself this much.

He was asking now. Once again, he was asking if she really needed him and where he fit in her life.

[Is that right? Why's that then?]

******************************************************************************************************

“'Cause I'm not ready for you to not be here”.

Okay... Sometimes I do think he still is the soulless vampire who wanted to kill me on Saturday night. ‘Cos he goes on, merciless.

“And the Principal? How does he fit in?”

Once again, it seems I have to choose. Between an apparent normalcy (how ‘average Joe’ could be a Slayer’s son who has dedicated his entire life trying to avenge his mother?) and a vampire, the symbolic reason I exist as the Slayer. But did I ever have this choice? Could it be that what Buffy wanted is what the Slayer world could offer? A life ago (ok... make that two...), I thought so. But I was young, and naïve… I still believed first love could last forever, go figure. It didn’t work, of course. But how many happy couples could you date back to high school? I mean, even if you don’t add the stressful factor teenager-slayer-doomed-to-an-early-death-dating-two-hundred-and-forty-some-vampire... Nevertheless, I had a chance. But someone, thinking I was too young and naïve to decide for myself, simply went away, no turning back, with my chance tucked under his arm. Leaving me staring at his back.

I got another chance. From the Slayer world, again... But why wonders, anyway? Don’t nurses fall in love with doctors every damn time? They got Harlequin Medical Romance – Trauma, Triumph & Love (and shouldn’t this be my love theme, for hell’s sake?). I got blame. I have to deal with disappointed faces, who silently remind me how much I failed them. But I’m through letting them and my own fears rule my life. Because it’s only the two of us. He is sticking with me, no matters what. Waiting for me to make my own decision.

And now, I’m gonna tell him.

[…Same day, she’ll tell you…]

It’s less difficult than I’ve imagined. All I need to do is look into his eyes. I almost feel his raw emotions that every time make me hold my breath and quiver for their intensity. For years I refused to do that. Look into his eyes, I mean. At least not when we were together, in our... Oh well... shit. I can’t even say that. Hypocrite that much, huh? But I was right, cuz the few times I really couldn’t help it, the lesser times I wouldn’t deny it to him, I simply got burned. Like a vamp in the sun, my heart sizzled. Because what I see glowing through his eyes is his heart, uncontaminated like the purest soul. And I’ve seen it since forever. I was too scared to admit it, even to myself. But now it’s different. I’ve learnt my lesson, and now I know the truth. Now I know what a soul is.

The soul alone doesn’t make the difference between good and evil. Love and hate don’t depend on the soul.

[“You can’t love without a soul.” “Oh, we can, you know. We can love quite well. If not wisely”]

They depend on who you are.

I met too many people with their little shiny souls that didn’t have any hesitations to stain them for good. They simply didn’t give a damn about them. Without one, he decided to pursue his own risking everything, even himself... not only his un-life, but his true self, his essence, his core.

And now he is stalling too. Because he is waiting for me. As usual. Waiting for a crumb. A word. My body. My faith. My love. My soul. Waiting for me to finally acknowledge our dance.

[…You think we're dancing? That's all we've ever done…]

So, it’s simple. Tell him the truth. Scariest monster ever, huh? Just go, girl. Breathe, look into his eyes, and jump. Or drown... Well, what the hell... just talk, babble, stutter... whatever it takes, Slayer!

“He doesn’t. I mean... he probably does... in this place, at this moment. Demon fighter, as you pointed out. See? Hellmouth here. And Big Bad coming... as usual. So, he fits in. But if you are talking about my life, my love life... Well, he doesn’t. And I am talking about my love life when I say I’m not ready for you not to be here, in my life, with me. You as in you. The vampire, the man. With and without the soul. William and Spike, dark and light, the whole package. Always needed you, you know... to balance Buffy and the Slayer. Well, probably you do know. But this very daft bint, as you would put it? Too much scared to admit it to anyone, my friends, you, even myself. As it was a weakness, to need someone. And a door left open to heartbreak. But I’ve taken blow after blow for so may years now, without giving up, that maybe I can risk to take some more. If the reward is worth enough...”

Okay, yeah... I am babbling! Lucky girl he loves me so much, huh?

He looks at me in disbelief, and I almost hear his words of denial. I silence him in the only way I know... well, the only way that works with him, anyway.

I kiss him.

Our passion is still there, unscathed, untamed, almost unforgiving. Always burning, never consumed. To save myself, to shield my frail soul, I used to hold back, giving him my body but denying my heart. Now, for the first time ever, I let him in.

And this feels so absurdly right that I almost giggle with utter, unbelievable joy. This is the choice. My heart, my soul are his. His to guard, to protect. To cherish. To make them blossom like nobody else could ever do.

When I look into his eyes again, the incredulity is mixed with the barest hint of hope. Serious trusting issues here... guess why. Maybe I just found out Buffy’s duty to fulfil... making him believe he is worth it.

[...I believe in you Spike...]

No more stalling... we are moving now, together. Where to? Well, it doesn’t really matter. We’ll figure it out.

And the Slayer inside me growls her approval.





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