[A/N: I’m having so much fun writing this, you have no idea. The title comes from the bard, Romeo and Juliet, act 5, scene 3. Quotes are as attributed, disclaimers still apply (but gods I wish they didn’t – just for a little while – coz, I so would have fired a few of the writers).]
Previously: Giles gave Willow what for about playing with magics she can’t control. Spike encountered the aftermath of something big, messy and unknown. Life, such as it is in Sunnydale, goes back to normal.
19. Death’s pale flag is not advanced there.
Death cancels everything but truth,
And strips a man of everything but genius and virtue.
William Hazlitt, “Lord Byron, The Spiirt of the Age”
Death is a shadow that always follows the body.
14th century English proverb
Absolutely nothing got resolved the other night. Not one blessed thing. Giles had the sinking sensation that he’d not reached Willow at all. That what he’d said had gone in one ear and out the other. Which offered no comfort at all.
After Spike had relayed his information about the bodies stashed at the foot of Glory’s tower, Giles had to admit that the very distinct possibility existed that something had made it through the portal. Another thing that didn’t make him overjoyed.
Still, it would be better if he had more information about what ritual or rituals Willow had actually used before he tried to narrow things down.
Right now, though, there appeared to be little chance of that happening.
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Spike had watched the interplay between Giles and Willow and held his tongue. Which had been an exercise in patience itself. Not a sign of remorse had crossed her features, even after Dawn had blurted out where Buffy had re-awakened.
Oddly enough the Slayer hadn’t spoken at all. And when he’d asked her about it later, after he’d returned from patrol, she’d just said “there wasn’t anything I could say.”
That he didn’t believe, but for once he’d let it go. She wasn’t in a talking mood, at least not that moment. Sooner or later, he’d get the truth of her feelings from her.
Had he pressed the issue like Buffy had expected him too, Spike might’ve been even more perturbed with Willow.
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The truth was getting harder to avoid. It was getting harder and harder to bite her tongue and not tell them where she’d been. She had a feeling Spike might’ve guessed the partial truth, because he was making an extra effort to be nice to her.
When Giles had been lecturing Willow, she’d had to keep biting the inside of her cheeck to keep her mouth shut.
She didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want Dawnie to know. It would only hurt more.
After they’d shouted at each other, Willow, sullen, angry and not in the least bit remorseful, had stomped up the steps to her room. None of them had known what to say, even Xander silent for once.
Tara and Spike had shared a look that spoke volumes about how neither one had expected any better. Buffy had drifted into the kitchen behind the other two just listening to their conversation. She’d had no objection when Spike said he was patrolling alone again and she just waved at the others when they left.
Buffy knew she should be making an effort to care more about . . . well about everything, but she just didn’t have the energy. Not even enough to go through the motion of being okay.
But it hadn’t even been a week or at least she thought so.
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Three days after they’d woken Willow, Giles cornered the redhead in the Magic Shop. “Willow I’d like to ask you some questions, if I may.”
His voice startled her. The only reason she was here now was because she thought he was at his apartment. Damn. Guess I should talk to him.
“Would you mind going over exactly what you did, and what methods you used to bring Buffy back?” Giles figured that if he didn’t place a judgment on her actions or mood he’d get more information from her.
“What is it you want to know?” She was wary, eyeing him closely.
“Just start from the beginning.” He smiled, thinking that this wasn’t going to be any easier than the other night.
Still unsure of his motives, Willow launched into an account of her actions. Quickly forgetting her audience, she began babbling in her excitement over finding the right ritual during a search of Celtic gods. Giles thanks his foresight in using a hand-held recorder, because Willow was going on so fast that he’d nearly missed it.
“ . . . and so I thought invoking the power of Ceridwen’s Cauldron would work best. But whhhoooo, trying to find a pure white bullhide was a real pain in the butt, until I found a coven in Ireland that had no problem selling me one.”
“And Buffy was supposed to re-appear inside the bullhide, ssssoooo I’m not really sure what happened there . . . “
Giles closed his eyes. Great gods above. Of all the deities to invoke, she had to pick the Celts. The Celts, who’s sense of whimsy and justice often didn’t quite mesh, the Celts, who reveled in bloodplay like no other set of deities. No doubt it was they that . . . his musings stopped short however, when he registered her next words.
“The blood of an untouched woman – which was fine, coz Tara’s never been, well, touched by a man, and the blood of the Key. So I had both of them drink a tea I made with Lethe’s Bramble.”
His blood was running cold now. Lethe’s Bramble, when ingested improperly, could lead to coma or death. If Willow had given either of the two girls too much they could’ve died. And blithely she sat before him, discussing this like it was all some bloody cute child’s game.
He had the chilling thought that he’d never really known this side of Willow and was equally certain that he didn’t want a further acquaintance with her either.
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They’d barely spoken for the last three days. Which was hard, since they were still sleeping in the same room, in the same bed. But Tara couldn’t get past the anger or the disappointment.
Willow had violated her - her trust, her love, her mind and her body. She felt cheap and used, like she didn’t matter. Like her thoughts and emotions didn’t count at all with her girlfriend. What kind of person did that make her – what kind of person did that make Willow?
Sooner or later, Tara knew the anger would need a voice, and she and Willow would have to talk. Thing was, she had no idea how to bring any of this up without screaming. And that wasn’t like her, not at all.
Her other concern was Buffy. She was worried about the other girl. She kept finding Buffy in various rooms crying or just staring at nothing. She wasn’t eating much of anything and Buffy barely spoke. Maybe if she talked to Spike or Giles they’d have an idea or two about how to help Buffy.
She had a feeling neither man would have a suggestion about Willow.
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Spike too, had noticed Buffy’s distance and lack of eating. Girl burned calories like no one else, and could, when the mood struck her, out-eat a teamster. But she had no desire to do so lately, which concerned him.
Standing at the open fridge looking for blood he knew he’d left in there just last night, Spke’s temper got the best of him.
“Niblet!” He roared through the house. “What the bleeding hell have you done to m’blood?”
“Why are you yelling?” Dawn’s voice came from the living room. Spike’s shout had drawn the other three that were home into the kitchen.
Shirtless and agitated, Spike slammed shut the refrigerator door. “Where . . . is . . . my . . . blood?”
“I put it in the freezer.”
“What the fuck for?” was his snarled question.
“Because its hot as hell out and I thought it would be like having an ice pop or a slurpee” was her completely unexpected reply.
Took the wind right out of his sails.
Both Tara and Buffy suppressed giggles, but at a shared look, they broke out into genuine laughter. Dawn flounced back into the living room, while Spike stood there speechless.
When he got over his aggravation, he realized it was the first real laughter Buffy had since she came back.
He could live with Dawn messing with him, if it made her smile, much less laugh.
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Tara’s good mood only lasted a few minutes. She’d gone right back upstairs, while Buffy stayed with Dawn. Once up in her room, Tara was right back to thinking about the situation with Willow. Didn’t really matter, until she talked with Willow nothing would get near being resolved. Problem was, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted a resolution.
Did she still love Willow?
Not even sure of the answer to that question, Tara went through the motions of putting clean clothes away and getting the dirty ones ready for laundry.
Did she love Willow?
Did she like Willow?
Did she trust Willow?
Going around and around this wasn’t helping at all. Maybe she should stop thinking and just get through the rest of the day focused on something else. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything else on her mind.
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Another night cleaning up after the really messy whatever-it-was had Spike frustrated. Having yet to even get a glimpse of this thing they had absolutely no information on it. He’d thought about asking Buffy if she wanted to come with him, but one look at her tired eyes and bony arms, he’d stopped that idea in its tracks.
Instead he’d watched while she went up the stairs to bed then he’d gone out on his own.
It was poker night anyway. Maybe one of the demons had some info.
Hours later he was no closer to finding out what it was, but he was richer by six hundred dollars, which he’d gotten in exchange for his kittens. Stuffing the money into the household expense jar Tara had going in the kitchen, Spike headed upstairs to check on the girls.
He’d tried to sleep in his own bed last night or yesterday morning, only to head back up to Buffy’s room when he heard her crying in her sleep. Dawn was sleeping in her own bed, while the two wiccans were up and talking, rather heatedly, he noticed as he walked past their door.
Which left Buffy wide awake, sitting on her bed, Mr. Gordo in her lap and pillows piled around her. He stuck his head in her door, a question on his lips, “fancy some ice cream?”
She looked at him. “What kind?”
“Uh, got peanut butter cup and chocoloate chip cookie dough, but if you want something else, I’ll get it.” Anything she wanted.
“Nope those are fine. Got them with you or should we . . . “ she squealed just a little bit when he produced two pints and spoons from behind the door. “Oh, Spike, you’re the best.”
“Ha, you’d say that to anyone who brought you chocolate.” Still, made him feel good to have her say something nice to him.
“Gimme, gimme” reaching out for one, she ignored his comment.
They ate in silence for a little bit, stealing spoonfuls from each other. They heard a door open, then harsh tones, then the door slammed shut. More angry words, but neither one could make out what was being said. Buffy winced and Spike observed “thought the birds were fighting when I came in.”
“They’ve been up for a while” was her comment.
“Bound to happen sooner or later. Red hurt Tara . . . same as she did you pet.” He hung the spoon on his lower lip, savoring the melting ice cream. Buffy watched fascinated despite herself.
“Yeah well, Willow doesn’t always think things through.” There was real hurt in her voice now and Spike responded to it.
“‘m sorry kitten. Had I known . . . “ her finger on his lips stopped his words and his entire thought processes. The cold ice cream and her hot fingers sent shockwaves through his system.
“I know. Just wish she would’ve thought this one over more before she pulled me out.” She looked away from him, unable to stop the tears.
His voice was a bare whisper as he asked her “pulled you from where kitten?”
Taking a deep breath, Buffy swirled the melting ice cream with her spoon. Staring down into the depths of peanut butter cup goodness, she whispered back “I think it was . . . think maybe it was heaven.”
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Willow had tried to get back into Tara’s good graces. She’d brought home flowers for her, a bunch of pretty pink shasta daisies, offered her a massage and then tried getting her in the mood. Nothing worked, Tara kept giving her the cold shower, so finally she just asked “Baby are you mad at me?”
Tara had automatically started to respond with “no” when she stopped herself. “Yes . . . yes Willow I am angry.”
Genuinely surprised, Willow asked, “why?”
At first Tara just looked at her, unable to believe this was coming from her. “What happened the other night Willow?”
“The other night? Oh . . . you’re mad because of the other night?” Willow didn’t understand why bringing Buffy back got everyone upset. It was a good thing she’d done, rescuing Buffy from an unknown hell dimension.
“Yeah Willow, the other night. When you drugged me and Dawnie, and then used both of us.” Tara’s patience was gone.
“I needed your blood for the ritual. Didn’t think it would hurt. And you weren’t supposed to remember.” Confusion laced her tone.
“You could have asked us Willow, instead of drugging us and taking it.” The anger just got stronger the more she spoke. Tara started getting ready for bed, opening and closing drawers a bit more forcefully than she normally did.
“But baby, I didn’t want to hurt you.” Willow got up from the bed, crossing the room to Tara’s side.
“What you did hurt me. Hurt Dawn. God Willow, what were you thinking? I would’ve helped . . . “ well, Tara thought, maybe not, “but you never asked Willow. You just took.”
“C’mon baby, this is just a misunderstanding, you know I wouldn’t really hurt you.” She tried cajoling her girlfriend in an effort to stop the fight.
“But you did Willow. You did hurt me.” Tara gathered up her pajamas and some sheets and pillows. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”
“Wait.” Willow sprinted across the room when Tara opened the door. “C’mon, don’t you trust me?” Slamming into it, Willow smiled broadly at Tara. “C’mon you know I love you.”
“That’s just it, I don’t know if I trust you anymore.” Tara watched while tears formed in Willow’s eyes.
“Please don’t leave, give me another chance. I swear I won’t ever hurt you again. Please, baby, don’t go.” Willow tugged on Tara’s arm, pulling her back toward their bed.
“All right. But this better be real Willow.” Tara’s tone left the redhead with no illusions that if she screwed up once, Tara was gone.
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