Then, three days after her Watcher's visit, Buffy made an announcement that both shocked and elated Spike.
"I want to go out."
He turned towards her, his eyebrow arched. "You do?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. His main concern as of late had been not doing anything to make her skitter back into her deep depression, and he wasn’t going to jump to the conclusion that her simple declaration meant that he could relax.
"Yeah. I mean, not to like kill anyone or anything…" Buffy ducked her head as she spoke.
Spike moved closer to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "I know, kitten. Where do you want to go?"
Buffy looked up, a mixture of nervousness and hope in her eyes. While the idea of leaving the crypt and facing the outside world now truly terrified her, she'd come to the conclusion that it was something she needed to do, and the sooner the better. As frightening as facing what was beyond the crypt was, the idea of never leaving, of never being able to learn how to go forward from here, was even scarier.
She didn't want to become lost and broken. It was hard, but she knew she was stronger than that. Despite it all, part of her was still the Slayer, and she had made the firm decision that she was not simply going to let herself waste away. She needed to find her place in the world again.
And Spike needed her, too.
It surprised her somewhat how big of a part that played in her decision to face the world again. While her talk with Giles had done her some good, the biggest benefit of it had been simply knowing that Spike would go so far as to seek out her Watcher because he was worried about her. She knew, that for a vampire like Spike, such an action spoke volumes.
It had shown her how much he loved her and what he was willing to do in order to help her. He needed her to get better, and she wasn't going to let him down.
"The Bronze?" Buffy suggest. "I used to… I used to like going there."
"The Bronze it is then, kitten," Spike replied. "Anyplace you want to go, we'll go."
Buffy favored him with a warm smile, the one Spike could never seem to keep from responding to with a smile of his own. "I'm going to go downstairs and change my clothes, okay? Sweats aren't exactly Bronzing attire."
"I'll wait for you up here then, princess."
With another brief, yet glorious smile, Buffy made her way down to the bottom level of the crypt and to the armoire Spike had found her for her clothes. Her eyes were drawn to a red mini-dress, and she flinched as she remembered the night she'd gotten it. She hadn't thought twice about murdering the shop clerk in order to get what she’d wanted. No, she'd enjoyed it, taken pleasure in the act.
Buffy shook her head, pushing back the memories of that night. She couldn't dwell on them now, not when she couldn't do anything to change them. She had to look towards the future, put herself back on track. She'd made mistakes, acted like the demon she was now, but she could rise above that, she knew. She just needed to look towards the future, not allow herself to drown in the past. Her soul was clearly stuck with her, since the curse hadn’t been broken like with Angel. She wouldn’t hurt anyone again and she had time to make up for the things she’d done.
Steadying herself, Buffy reached into the armoire and took out the dress.
It had taken willpower Spike didn't even know he possessed to keep his hands off of her and let them both leave the crypt. She'd put on a bright red dress and knee high black leather boots—a combination that was very high at the top of his favorites list. Her golden hair fell around her shoulders in gentle waves and her green eyes were highlighted by smoky black shadow.
He'd trembled at the sight, but had kept his touch limited to taking her hand in his when she'd offered it to him.
They made the trip in silence, neither of them speaking until they reached the entrance of the club, where Buffy froze. Spike tightened his grip on her hand as he stroked it with his thumb. "Are you sure you want to do this, luv?"
Screwing up her courage, Buffy nodded. "I think I need to. You need me to."
At that, Spike frowned, her declaration not making sense to him. He tugged her back, away from the crowd of teenagers milling outside the club and over into the shadows, where they could talk alone. "I need you to? What do you mean, sweetheart? You're not just out here tonight because of me, are you? Because if you don't want to be…"
Buffy stopped his words with a finger against his lips. "No, Spike, that's not it. I just meant, well…" She dropped her hand and turned her head slightly, looking into a puddle beside her feet, not even registering the fact she wasn't reflected in it.
"I want to try to make us work, okay? I…well, I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose us. It can't be like it was before, but it's important to me to try to move forward with you. I don't really understand why you're sticking around, but you are, and I'm not… I'm not going to turn away from that."
"I could never leave you, Buffy, no matter what happened. You're my…" Spike stopped, searching for the word. How could a single word encapsulate what Buffy had become to him? She'd flipped his whole world upside down, torn apart everything he'd ever known, and yet she'd then turned around and given him more than he'd ever thought possible.
"You're my everything, kitten."
His quiet declaration made Buffy turn her head to look up at Spike again. His eyes held a shine she knew he'd never admit to, and she smiled despite her own tears. "You're mine, too."
It had been too long since he'd tasted her, and Spike could no longer hold himself back. He tugged her towards him, his lips finding hers on instinct. Buffy didn't pull away, but instead wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging into the leather of his coat as she sighed in contentment against his mouth.
This was what she'd been missing these past few days. She closed her eyes, let the feel of kissing him again wash over her, her body loosening as he brought his arms around her, supporting her.
When she broke away, his eyes were dark, and he panted the way he always did when she kissed him, giving her that heady feeling that came with knowing she affected a man like that. She gave him a sly smile, even as she licked her lips to capture the lingering taste of him. "We should go inside."
For a moment, Spike looked confused, and Buffy stifled a giggle as she realized he was trying to remember where they even where. Then, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Right. Inside. The Bronze."
Buffy took him by the arm and led him inside, pulling him right onto the dance floor. Spike wasn't sure what to expect, but he certainly wasn't disappointed when Buffy turned and started moving herself against him to the music.
Not willing to reject anything she was willing to offer, Spike placed his hands on her hips, guiding her movements as she swayed in time with the steady beat.
Buffy could feel his erection pressing against her bottom through the denim of his jeans, could feel the leather of his coat brushing against her legs as they moved together. Her entire body hummed as the scent of Spike surrounded her, breathing in deep to fill herself with it.
And she realized in that moment that she could let go with him. It was okay to let go with him. What they had done together was more than violence, more than bloodshed. They had love, and Buffy knew in her heart the love they shared wasn't wrong. It transcended their demons, transcended even their human selves. It was something she'd never looked for, never expected, and yet it was there, stronger than either of them.
She started to turn, the words she'd been so afraid of these past few days ready to fall from her lips when she felt Spike freeze. Before she could ask him what was wrong, she looked forward and realized who he was seeing.
Willow.
Behind her, Spike growled low in his throat, and Buffy placed her hand on his, steadying him. A look of confusion and hurt in her eyes, Willow moved towards the blond couple, even as Oz called after her to stop.
Sensing a conflict arising, Buffy turned quickly to Spike. "Let me talk to her, okay?"
Spike's response was another growl, but he didn't fight her, didn't follow her when she stepped away from the dance floor. Yet she could still sense him behind her, could sense the tension in him and knew he'd strike the moment he was provoked.
Buffy noted, oddly enough, that was more comfort than she'd thought it would be.
"Buffy? What are you doing here with him?" Willow asked once Buffy was close enough to talk to, the tone in the redhead's voice belying her sense of betrayal.
The irony of that was far from lost on Buffy.
"I'm with Spike now, Willow," Buffy replied, bitterness seeping into her words. For a moment, she tried to fight it until she realized she didn't want to. "It's where I belong."
"Buffy, no!" Willow protested. "You belong with your friends—with your family!"
Buffy stiffened, her anger growing by the moment. "I am with my family, Willow. I'm with Spike."
For a moment, all Willow could do was gape, her mouth opening and closing several times before she said, "But…but your soul!"
Buffy let out a humorless laugh. "My soul. My soul. How dare you, Willow? How dare you do that to me?"
Willow bristled, knocking Oz's hand off when she felt him come up behind her, trying to guide her back away from the former Slayer. Buffy noticed Oz's hand wrapped around a stake, and the image served to further highlight the divide between her old life and her new.
"I did what I had to do, Buffy! You…you were killing people! I couldn't let you go on like that!"
"I was happy!" Buffy yelled back. "Now I feel like…" She stopped, shaking her head. "You know, I wish I'd killed you before you had the chance to do this."
Willow blinked, tears immediately rising to her eyes. "Buffy? How…how can you say that? I'm your friend."
"No you're not! Don't you get it, Willow? Your friend is dead! I’m…I’m someone else now."
Willow shook her head rapidly, even as she finally accepted the support of Oz's steady hand. "No. No. It can be like it was. You can…"
"No!" Heedless of any attention they may be getting from the Bronze's other patrons of the evening, Buffy let her demonic features slip into place. "This is me now, Willow. A demon. And thanks to you, I have to both fight my nature and suffer for the things I've already done."
At the sight of Buffy's true face now, Willow reared back. "Buffy?" she asked, her voice growing meek.
"This is what I am, Willow. You should've just let me be this."
Buffy felt Spike approach her even before his hand was on her arm, and at the first touch of his skin against hers, she let the ridges on her forehead fade. As much as Spike wanted to see the little witch suffer for what she'd done to Buffy, he couldn't let her bear the weight of another death on her soul—and as tense as things were, he knew they could easily get out of hand.
Willow looked between Spike and Buffy, her head shaking back and forth. "This isn't right. This isn't how things were supposed to be."
His expression tight, anger barely under control, Spike replied, "No, Red, it isn't. Not at all."
Buffy turned to Spike, looking at him with wide, watery eyes. "Take me home?"
With a swirl of his duster, Spike led Buffy out of the club, ignoring Willow as she called after them.
I just have to say, I got a new laptop today, and I am the happiest little writer ever. LOL Hopefully, it’ll inspire me to write more, just so I can use it. *wink*
Please review!