After all, how hard could it be to not think about that annoying bleached pest?
She started her day out with a long soapy shower, endeavoring to wash away any evidence of her tryst with a demon. Unfortunately, thoughts of said-demon sent her fingers wandering south and she ended up yelling his name out during her mammoth orgasm. She slumped against the cool tiles of the shower wall, panting hard and cursing the day that Spike bounded into her life.
When she finally stepped out of the shower, prune-y and depressed, she figured that little slip up was strike one.
One slip up was acceptable. In fact, it was to be expected. They’d enjoyed amazing sex together…probably the best sex that the Slayer had ever experienced in her life. And maybe the best that she would ever experience. There were likely very few men, human or supernatural, who could manipulate her body with Spike’s level of expertise. Of course, reflecting on that expertise led to strike two of the day. And to orgasm number two. Once again, Spike’s name was on her breath as she screamed out her pleasure.
Well no more Spike-thinkiness now.
Because three strikes and she was out.
Except that he was the peroxide elephant in the room. And the more she tried to refrain from allowing him to play (naked) in her mind, the more he dominated her thoughts. It was like a form of torture. She needed to get out of there and possibly kill something.
Right the fuck now.
She waited restlessly for the dusk to arrive, busying herself with mundane tasks to take her mind off of Spike and as soon as darkness started to settle over Sunnydale she grabbed some stakes and flew out of her house in the direction of the nearest cemetery.
Unfortunately, her feet carried her in the direction of a place she was telling herself she didn’t want to go. And before she knew it she was crossing the threshold of Restfield Cemetery.
Well, there were killable creatures here too.
Right?
“You are so not gonna go near Spike’s crypt,” she muttered to herself several times, in a kind of mantra, even as she headed in that direction.
But before she knew it, she was standing right outside the rotten old door that was the only barrier between her and the peroxide pain in her ass.
Buffy entered the crypt gingerly. Unlike her usual method of barging in, she crept into the old stone room, nervous about Spike’s reaction to her. After the things she’d said to him the previous morning, she knew she needed to tread carefully.
He smelled her before he saw her, his nose twitching as it caught scent of her creamy vanilla and fruity berry perfume with undertones of unadulterated Slayer blood. She smelled like the personification of heaven. Even when he’d hated her to her very core the vampire had always loved the way she smelled. The girl had an edible aroma in more ways than one.
“Hello Spike,” Buffy said simply, her voice barely venturing above a hushed whisper.
“So she’s back,” Spike commented as he sat sprawled in his easy chair, keeping his eyes focused on the television.
“I…I don’t know why I’m here,” she sighed, standing in the doorway. Her eyes wandered over his seated form. The vampire was slumped in his dirty old chair, legs akimbo, and hair curling out of control as he remained glued to some trashy television show.
But that wasn’t what grabbed her attention.
It was actually the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt that left her gaping at him.
Buffy had seen Spike in all his glory before…twice actually. But each of those times they had been lost in the heat of passion. During their first time together she was under a spell and the other she’d been drunk off her ass.
However, even from a distance she could see those tight muscles in their truly beautiful natural state and it made her mouth dry and her palms clammy. This wasn’t a normal reaction to seeing Spike half naked! She should be yelling disgustedly or punching him in the face for daring to be so lewd in the privacy of his own crypt. But she just remained frozen to the spot.
“Decide if you’re staying or going, pet,” he commanded her, more harshly than was necessary. His words startled her out of her self-induced trance and she snapped her mouth shut and shook herself. “You’re letting all the heat out.”
Buffy snorted a half-hearted laugh at his words and rolled her eyes. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to let all the heat out of your dirty old hole in the ground. Silly me.”
The natural banter made her feel a little more comfortable. If she could just try and act natural around him, then it would all be okay.
She waited for her sparring buddy to verbally retaliate with some kind of witty quip like he usually did but she received a stony response that immediately deflated her.
Spike merely glared in her direction but still didn’t look directly at her. He felt like a child being tempted to look at the sun even though he knew it would be bad for him. Of course, for Spike, looking at the sun would prove fatal. But he couldn’t help but wonder if looking at Buffy would end with the same result. She was the killer of his kind after all.
Bridging the awkward silence that was stretching between them, Spike cleared his throat.
“So why are you here, Slayer?” he finally asked, shutting over the television and casually ambling over to the refrigerator.
“I thought you might want to patrol. You know…with me.”
“Any particular nasty that’s giving you trouble?” he inquired, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. No need to let her know that spending time in her company made his unbeating heart leap wildly in his chest.
He pulled a jar of blood from the refrigerator and gulped down several mouthfuls of the thick, congealed liquid, grimacing as it hit his taste buds.
God, he missed hot, human blood sometimes.
“What?” she asked distractedly. She’d already forgotten his question on account of his rippling muscles as he swallowed down the blood. His dietary habits should have been exceptionally off-putting but shirtless-Spike somehow managed to short-circuit her cerebral functions.
He turned slowly to look at her, his eyes raking over her flushed face. The sound of her pulsating heartbeat echoed in his ears causing a cat-like grin to spread across his face. This naughty little Slayer was aroused…by the Big Bad. Every single one of his senses alerted him to her rapidly increasing arousal. Of course, the knowledge was sweetened by the fact that she wasn’t under the influence of magic or the demon drink right now.
This was pure, unadulterated Buffy Summers and she wanted him.
Prowling toward her like a large cat, he curled his tongue behind his teeth. “I asked you what big…bad…nasties are after a taste of the Slayer.” His voice had dropped an octave and Buffy swallowed convulsively as her throat suddenly seemed parched.
“Nasties…” she repeated, clearly not in full control of her faculties. “Always some out there.”
“Not just out there though. Are they, pet? In here too.” She glanced away but Spike tsked and shook his head. “No, Buffy. Don’t look away. Look at this big bag right here who wants to…devour you.”
“We…w-we can’t,” she stuttered but made no move to get away from him.
“Why not?” he asked, his tone as sweet and creamy as caramel. “Tell me you don’t want it.”
“I-I do want you. I can’t deny that. But…I’m not ready to do this, Spike. Just give me time.”
He thought about pushing her. The vampire knew that he could probably capitalize on his charms and get her to fall into bed with him again. But his mind flashed back to the hellish morning-after they’d shared and he realized that he didn’t want a repeat of that. When they finally enjoyed each other’s bodies again he wanted it to be a mutual desire and a mutual acceptance. After years of always being second best, he wanted to be the first prize and not a consolation.
“Okay,” he acquiesced, moving away from her and slipping on his discarded shirt and duster.
“Huh?” She blinked, coming out of her lust-induced daze.
“I said…okay.” He spoke slowly as if she was a child, holding back a grin at her confusion. Clearly the Slayer hadn’t expected him to give up so easily. “We have some patrolling to do, right? Save the bloody morons in this town that don’t realize it’s not safe to toddle off out of their warm little beddie-byes after dark.”
“Oh…uh…yeah.” Buffy ran a hand through her hair. “Patrol. Let’s go.”
Wondering why she was actually patrolling right now instead of practicing her bedroom gymnastics with the vampire she was lusting after, Buffy sauntered out of the crypt with a very horny vampire hot on her heels. Yes, Spike was already regretting not finding a way to charm her into bed. Or at least the bulge in his pants was extremely regretful.
The patrol itself was less than eventful. Summer was always a quiet time in Sunnydale and it seemed like every demon on the planet had vacated the hellmouth that night. They only found one pathetic fledgling who’d managed to get himself wedged into his grave and a bug-eyed scaly demon that ran screaming when it saw the Slayer.
For both the Slayer and the vampire it was frustrating. They needed to kill something, it was innate to both of their natures and without the kill, their other instincts were taking over.
As Buffy looked over at her companion, she felt herself grow moist and prayed that he couldn’t pick up on the way that she was feeling. The Slayer was well aware of vampire senses and their unnatural ability to smell things. As gross as it was, it was also unnerving because she didn’t want Spike to know just how deep her desire for him was becoming. She might have hated him but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to jump his bones like a cat in heat.
“Something wrong, pet?” Spike asked, glancing askew at the petite blonde beside him. Her surreptitious peeks at him hadn’t gone unnoticed and neither had the aroma of her desire that was heavily scenting the balmy night air.
“Wrong?” she said, flinching as if she’d been shocked. “N-nope. Everything is as peachy as peaches and cream.”
“Is that so?”
Oh God! He was doing that sexy bedroom voice again. Buffy bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. Pain was good. It was an antidote for the lust. Except that suddenly it wasn’t working and it wasn’t dampening her desire for the forbidden vamp beside her.
“I’m fine,” she lied, breathing heavily. “Just fine.”
“You are…fine,” he agreed, his eyebrow raising pointedly as he inferred that her fineness wasn’t necessarily in the way that she meant. “I’ve seen just how fine you are in all your bloody glory. Like a goddess you are.”
“Spike…”
“When you rode me, you were more glorious than Lady Godiva. You were like an avenging Valkyrie, resolute and beautiful. So…beautiful.”
Buffy’s breath hitched in her chest at the intensity shining through his voice. His face was radiating the same extreme lust that she could feel inside of her own body and the young woman stopped walking as she tried to gather her senses.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Spike quickly covered the distance between himself and Buffy and pushed the Slayer against the nearest hard surface, which happened to be the wall of a crypt.
“Sod waiting for the right time,” he muttered to himself as his hands closed around her biceps.
He pressed his body flush against her. She could feel the coolness of his body seeping through her own clothes and it was like being burned with ice. Although, the burning flame she felt could very well have been the one that had reignited in her chest.
And burn for him she did.
Every cell in her body strained for his touch, longing for him to bring her the pleasure that she knew he was capable of.
His lips moved against hers slowly at first, but the embers of their passion quickly ignited into a raging furnace. Tiny sparks of hunger for the vampire fizzed and bubbled in her veins. She wanted him closer and fisted her hands into his hair as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Even that wasn’t near enough though. She needed more.
She needed everything that he could give to her.
And then she heard that little voice in the back of her brain. She hated that voice. Sometimes she wondered if that was her soul, warning her away from the things that would hurt her.
Would Spike hurt her? He’d tried for so long but now he said he loved her.
It was very confusing.
Of course, it didn’t matter what he felt for her, because she couldn’t feel the same way about him. Even if he had changed, she didn’t believe she could let herself love another vampire.
With that thought at the forefront of her mind, she pushed him back slightly, reluctantly pulling away from him.
Their lips separated, both of them gasping for air. It was all too much. She felt too much and that wasn’t right. She told herself once again that she just couldn’t let herself fall for Spike.
He was evil and he didn’t have a soul.
He’d tried to murder her and her friends numerous times.
He wasn’t capable of real feelings so it didn’t matter anyway.
God, she wished she believed that. It would be so much easier if she truly did. But the pain was evident on his face. He felt just as deeply as any soulful being that she’d ever known, maybe even more so. However, the Slayer couldn’t dwell on that fact right now, because if she did then she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from launching right back into his strong, protective arms.
And wasn’t that just ironic as hell? The embrace of a serial killer made her feel safer than any man had ever made her feel before. Yet that simply heightened her fear. Because whenever Buffy felt even remotely safe something always happened to take that away. If she let herself fall for Spike, she had no doubt that the universe would throw every horrible thing her way just to make her suffer. Just to take him away from her.
She held his gaze for another moment before turning her eyes to the ground. Buffy knew that she could try to make him understand but he would never grasp why they couldn’t be together.
So she needed to leave.
Because right then, running away was all she knew how to do.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, apology etched onto her sorrowful face. “I…I can’t.”
“One day you will,” he assured her. “You’ll want it. You can’t stay away from the darkness, Slayer. The light’s too bright for you. It blinds you. You belong in the shadows, with me.”
She didn’t respond, conflict clear in her gaze as she turned to walk away.
Spike didn’t try to stop her. Trying to keep the Slayer with him when she didn’t want to be was like trying to teach a bear to tap-dance on a tightrope. He stayed staring after her, mourning the loss of her touch on his body. She felt so good against him, as if she was the missing part of him that he hadn’t even realized he’d lost until he found it.
Until her found her.
He silently vowed that one day she would be his and only his. One day she would let all her inhibitions float away and let him love her the way she was meant to be loved. Even if it took him the rest of his existence, he knew that one day it would happen.
He had to believe it, because if he didn’t he knew that he would fade away into the desolate abyss of hopeless despair.
On the gentle breeze that drifted toward him, he smelled the salty scent of the Slayer’s tears.
As she careered away from Spike, every footstep became harder. She felt like she was wading through thick tar and it physically hurt to leave him. She didn’t love him though. Of that, she was sure. It was just attraction, albeit an exceptionally strong one. But attraction was surmountable and she was sure she could easily recover from this. All she needed was some time. Oh and she definitely needed to stay as far away as possible from the peroxide blond.
She didn’t even notice the tears cascading down her cheeks as she ran away as fast as her legs could carry her.
Unfortunately, neither of the supernatural lovers noticed the two pairs of shocked eyes that stared at their antics.
“What the hell was that?” Xander gasped, turning to face an equally bemused Anya.
“It looks like Spike’s finally giving Buffy orgasms,” Anya replied with a shrug when she regained her composure. “Xander, you’re looking very pale! Xander!”
She rushed to his side as her boyfriend’s eyes rolled up in his head and he hit the ground cold.
When Buffy finally finished patrol, sunlight was already starting to bleed into the horizon. The Slayer had spent several hours just wandering around Sunnydale’s plethora of cemeteries, lost in her own silent reverie.
She’d kissed Spike again. Well, it was more of mutual jumping each other kind of thing. But still, it had happened, and Buffy couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
The only thing that she regretted was the fact that there was no regret attached to her feelings this time. And that was definitely not of the good. Because it meant…well she didn’t want to contemplate exactly what it meant. The possible connotations put ‘Spike’ and ‘falling in love with’ in the same sentence…and that would never go well.
Her thoughts were a jumble of contradictions and she didn’t want to consider any of them. However, in trying to avoid considering them, she’d ended up fixating on them even more.
Now she was finally home and all she wanted to do was take a long soak in a hot tub and curl up safe and warm in her bed.
She fumbled in her pocket for her key and turned it in the lock of her front door before stepping inside with a sigh of relief.
However, relief melted into confusion when she saw her friends and her Watcher gathered in her living room.
It immediately became obvious that something was wrong. The gang didn’t assemble in her house in the middle of the night for anything short of an apocalypse and her Slayer-senses ratcheted up a notch. If the world was ending then she needed to be on alert.
“What’s going on?” Buffy asked, glancing around at her friends, trying to gauge the situation.
Willow was keeping her eyes on the ground, Xander was looking furious, Giles was cleaning his glasses and Anya looked a cross between bored, amused and impatient. Tara was the only one who was looking even remotely sympathetic.
“Well, if we may, Buffy. We…that is to say…the people who care about you…we feel there may be some kind of problem,” Giles stammered, frantically rubbing at his spectacles.
“We do care about you, Buffy. This is blame free, okay?” Willow piped up, trying to look as reassuring as possible.
Oh God! Blame free? She’d heard Willow use a similar expression once before. Namely when her friends had staged an intervention to try and stamp out her relationship with Angel after his return from a hell dimension.
“Well, thanks,” Buffy replied arching a brow in confusion. “But can you guys cut through the crap because this is wiggin’ me out and right now it’s feeling a little intervention-y in here.”
“That’s because it is an intervention,” Anya said, inspecting her nails and confirming Buffy’s unsettling suspicion. “They think you need one because you’re boning Spike.”
“Ahn!” Xander exclaimed, jumping out of his seat on the couch. “This was about…kissing. As disgusting as that thought might be. But there is no boning. In fact, there’s a distinct lack of bonage…right Buff?”
Buffy frowned, glancing around at the stony faces of her friends. She suddenly felt isolated, as if she’d unwittingly ventured into hostile territory. The Slayer wrapped her arms around her chest defensively and met Xander’s dark gaze with her own sharp, green one.
“What I do or don’t do with Spike’s bones isn’t your concern, Xander,” Buffy spit out wearily. She was tired and confused and really not in the mood for this. A cranky Slayer is definitely not a friendly Slayer. “And how the hell would you know what I’ve been doing?”
“Oh God!” The brunet boy covered his face, ignoring her question. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“That makes two of us,” Giles said wryly, a look of concern blooming in his eyes.
Buffy screwed her eyes shut for a moment trying to collect herself. This was pretty much the last thing she needed. Okay, well an apocalypse would be a teeny bit worse, but this came close.
Finally managing to quiet his girlfriend, Xander approached the blonde, looking a little green around the gills and put his arm on her shoulder. “Listen, Buffy, we love you, okay? We’re your best friends and as such…it’s our job to tell you when you’ve clearly gone completely insane.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and shook his hand off of her. “I’m not insane, guys. I’m totally in control of my mind. And yeah, you guys are my best friends but I have my own mind.”
“Which apparently isn’t functioning right now,” Xander retorted irately.
“Maybe she just enjoys the orgasms?” Anya suggested with a smile and a wink at Buffy. “Vampires give excellent orgasms. They have incredible stamina. And I’m sure that a vampire as old and experienced as Spike really is a wonderful orgasm provider.”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Giles exclaimed, whipping his glasses off his face and polishing them so furiously that Buffy was sure he would rub right through the glass.
“Ahn!” Xander exclaimed, chastising his girlfriend with a glare. “Remember we talked about things we don’t say in public?”
“Yes,” Anya grinned, sticking out her fingers and counting off the list, “orgasms, penises…especially the size and girth of your penis, sex, blow jobs…mmmph!”
Xander clapped a hand over his girlfriend’s mouth, ignoring her protests as she clawed at his meaty paws. “Haha, sorry about that,” he said, his face as red as a tomato.
“Okay,” Buffy said, shaking her head at their antics. “I think that’s enough of this craziness. I’m going to bed.”
“Buffy,” Giles said sternly, making the Slayer stop in her tracks. “This really is something we need to talk about. It’s not a subject that can be avoided.”
“My love life isn’t up for discussion,” she said, her eyes turning hard.
“Wait…love huh?” Xander stammered. “We’re talking about Spike here! Spike and love do not belong in the same sentence, Buff.”
“I know,” Buffy said. “It’s a figure of speech. I-I don’t love Spike. But…if I did…it wouldn’t be any of your business.”
“It is our business because we’re your friends,” Willow piped up, finally finding her voice. Until then she’d remained silent but she felt that she had to help stop her friend from making a horrible mistake.
“Yeah, you are my friends, Wills. But you’re not…you’re not my keepers. I’m not a little kid that can’t make her own choices.”
“No, you’re not a child,” Giles agreed solemnly. “But you are the Slayer and as such you have a duty. Cavorting with soulless vampires in graveyards is not the way to uphold your duty.”
“How do you guys even know what happened?” Buffy asked through clenched teeth. “Do you spy on me through your crystal ball? Or is there some kind of special Slayer-GPS that keeps watch on me?”
“I saw what you did with that disgusting evil thing, Buffy,” Xander told her, his voice thick with disgust. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes then I wouldn’t have believed it. And trust me I wish I could burn that image away.”
“With your own eyes? You were spying on me?” Buffy felt the last threads of her already frayed temper snap. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Xan? Were you following me?”
“I was out with Anya!” Xander yelled, his own anger getting the better of him. “We thought you might be lonely on patrol, that you might like some company. But there you were. Clearly not lonely, letting Deadboy Junior mack on you!”
“You don’t even know all the facts. I wasn’t doing anything wrong!”
“Clearly you’re doing something wrong because you were kissing Spike!” he yelled, equally as mad as the Slayer now.
“I already told you, that’s not your business,” Buffy assured him coldly. She was so mad at them. She always did everything she could to make them happy. But apparently nothing was good enough. “You’re one of my best friends and I love you. I love all of you. But you so you need to keep out of my business now. And if I wanna get freakin’ married to Spike then that’s my choice, okay?”
“Dear Lord!” Giles exclaimed, interrupting their argument. “Didn’t Angel leave so you could have a normal life? And now you’re talking about marrying Spike? Have you gone quite mad?”
“Right! Because the whole hanging out in cemeteries and putting pointy sticks through the chests of animated corpses is really making with the normal, huh?” Buffy sneered.
The smirk that threatened to break through on her lips was eerily reminiscent of the smirk of a certain blond vampire. That thought terrified Giles.
“You can still have a normal life in other ways,” Xander pointed out, keeping his face intentionally blank.
“Tried it. Didn’t work,” she retorted dismissively.
“Really?” he asked skeptically. “Because you didn’t even give Riley much of a chance.”
“Yuh huh. Apparently normal human guys get all intimidated when their girlfriends can bench press them.” Buffy bit back.
“And Spike is the only one left? You’re so desperate you have to scrape that low for a boyfriend?” Xander asked meanly. He did feel a little pang of guilt as she flinched under the weight of his words.
“He’s not my boyfriend and I’m not scraping anything,” she sighed, bristling at his supercilious tone. Her fists clenched angrily. How did her friends sometimes manage to make her feel like a child in need of a scolding?
“But he might be…one day?” Xander prodded, silently praying that she would say no.
“I don’t know, Xan.” Buffy hissed, exasperated. “I don’t have psychic powers so I can’t tell you what’s gonna happen in the future. My feelings for Spike…”
“Aha! So you do have feelings for him?” Xander looked like a child as he jumped off the arm of the couch pointing accusingly at her.
“No! Yes! Okay…maybe. I feel…I don’t know…something for him. I can’t tell you what because I don’t even know myself. But I’m not a little kid. I’m the Slayer and I can deal with whatever happens without the need for a babysitter.”
“Spike will hurt you if you let him get too close,” the dark haired boy warned her. “And us too. We’ll end up with Angelus Mark Two on our hands.”
“That won’t happen,” she hissed. “Spike doesn’t have a soul to lose.”
“He doesn’t have a soul at all, Buffy,” Giles said keeping his voice gentle. “He’s not a suitable partner for you.”
“But that’s just it, Giles,” she replied. “I’m the Slayer. There is no ‘suitable partner’ for me because I’m not supposed to live that long.”
“Buffy…”
“No! Let me say this!” She gulped in a breath and faced the expectant faces of her friends. “I could die any night that I’m out there. It’s gonna happen one day. Just let me be happy while I can. Please.”
Giles simply nodded and removed his glasses to polish them once again.
Tara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering again why she was even there. Finally she bravely opened her mouth to speak. “I-I think that h-he could be good for h-her,” the shy blonde chirped in defense of the vampire. “He’s not done anything evil for a w-while now…”
“You know nothing about him,” Xander said harshly, fury flashing in his eyes. He still saw Tara as an outsider and he wasn’t particularly interested in her opinion.
“I-I just think that m-maybe h-he’s changing,” Tara said quietly.
“Changing? He betrayed us to Adam!” Willow exclaimed, upset that her girlfriend would try and defend the vampire. “Buffy can’t be with Spike!”
Anya studied her nails with disinterest. “Maybe we should just honor her wishes,” the former demon suggested to her boyfriend. “If she likes Spike, then let her have Spike. He has a chip so he can’t hurt anyone.”
However, the furious look didn’t fade from Xander’s face and ignored his girlfriend’s words. What did she know about this anyway? She used to be a demon herself, no matter how desperately he tried to ignore and forget that fact, so of course she would side with Spike.
“Thank you, Anya,” Buffy smiled. She didn’t really know the former demon, never having bothered to take the time to get to know her. But it warmed her heart to have a little support from both Anya and Tara. The Slayer made a mental note to actually try to get to know these two young women who clearly had some hidden depths to them.
While Buffy and Anya shared a smile, Xander and Willow exchanged a pointed look with each other.
For them, this wasn’t over.
“Buffy, please see reason,” Giles implored her, missing her friends’ interaction.
“See reason?” she scoffed. “My friends spy on me and then when they decide that I’m doing something they don’t like they stage a freakin’ intervention. Does that sound reason-y to you, Giles? Because it sounds like something of the insane to me!”
“Buffy,” Giles sighed, his patience wearing thin. “We just want what’s best for you.”
“Well, you know, I think I know what’s best for me. And as much fun as all this discussion of my life is, I’m going to bed,” Buffy said, seeing that her words had had little effect on most of the group.
Without waiting for them to say anything else, she turned and headed up the stairs. She managed to keep the tears at bay until she was in the safety of her room but once she let them flow, it was as if the dam had been broken.
The Slayer collapsed onto her bed, sobs wracking her body. She cried for everything that she’d lost in her life as a slayer and everything that she would never be permitted to have. She sobbed and wailed for the innocent girl who had her childhood stripped away by the cruel Powers that Be.
Buffy cried until she had no tears left to shed and when she’d cried herself dry she curled up in a ball until the balm of sleep soothed her troubled soul.
Her sleep was a dreamless solace.
However, if she had known what was still to come, maybe she wouldn’t have slept so soundly.