N/A: A big thanks to All4Spike for helping me with the translation *.*
Disclaimer: part of the dialogues are from the show, so the credit goes to the awesome authors. All the rest is mine ^_^
Day One
It comes from your darkest thoughts.
It comes from your deepest fears.
It comes out of your worst nightmare.
It comes.
Beware. Beware.
Like every night, the Bronze was overflowing with youngsters, music and smoke.
A dark haired young man was sitting at the end of the bar. He stared at his glass as the bartender filled it with whisky. A laugh, happy and carefree, rang a few feet away from him, as the clear liquor accidentally missed the glass, splashing on his hand.
He just kept staring.
"You're all wet!" the owner of the laughter said. A napkin appeared in front of the man's eyes, pulling him out of his dark thoughts.
On auto-pilot, he took it and wiped his hand. "It's a good thing I'm part fish."
"Which part?" the smiling voice asked.
"The part with the hook in it," he answered, trying to hold back the bitterness.
"Careful. Someone might reel you in."
Finally, he took in the seduction in the woman's voice and gazed up in surprise. She was extraordinarily beautiful.
He opened his mouth, ready to say something that would make her leave, so he could go back to his misery, but just then she smiled, full luscious lips showing off a row of sparkling white teeth, and shook her head.
Her thick auburn hair swayed gently, emitting a scent that stunned him with its intensity.
Suddenly, the young man forgot the reason for his unhappiness and instinctively returned the smile.
"I'm Lilly."
"Xander."
The night air was crisp. Holding the trusty stake tightly, Buffy walked among the gravestones, chin nestled in the soft fur collar of her denim jacket.
She was going through the motions, senses on the alert as usual, but her mind wandered as she tried to rationalize the tumult of emotions that hadn't left her since she had unwillingly witnessed the sickening scene: Spike and Anya having sex.
She was troubled, confused by her own thoughts and by the feelings unleashed by the discovery of Spike's betrayal.
Betrayal!
Where did that come from? She wondered, shocked.
The relationship between her and Spike was over... it had never begun, in the first place! Anyway, whatever had taken place between them, she was the one to put an end to it, telling him to move on with his life. Or un-life. He had done nothing but follow, maybe a bit too quickly, her suggestion.
So why the weird feeling she couldn't name, that left a bad taste in her mouth?
After all those months of secret meetings with Spike, she was accustomed to guilt, to feeling disgusted with herself, rage against the vampire and the mysterious attraction that had driven her into his arms, but the emotion that gripped her heart in a vise, leaving her almost breathless... no, that was something new and different.
It had nothing to do with the pain suffered at the hands of Angel, but still it hurt a lot. Incredibly, incomprehensibly so.
She remembered the conversation she'd had with Xander that same morning and the justifications she had offered for Anya's actions.
The ex-demon had been hurt by his behavior and had sought comfort elsewhere, she had told him gently. Of that she was really convinced. Anya's behavior had been stupid, but undeniably human ... also, no one knew better than her how good Spike was at giving 'comfort'.
Even she, who was the Slayer, the chosen one, the champion of good, had repeatedly thrown herself into the arms of that damned vampire. Even now that it was over between them, he continued to haunt her dreams, leaving her to wake up frustrated and dissatisfied.
How could she blame Anya for giving in to his perverse appeal?
To blame Spike, however, was a different matter; it was something she was very good at… even if she knew in her heart that it was unfair and illogical. Spike was a demon, a being without a soul and conscience and, as such, he was incapable of distinguishing right from wrong.
His very nature should have represented, by itself, a valid mitigating circumstance. Also, one could credit him with Anya's same excuse, since Spike too had been rejected and humiliated. By her.
Buffy kicked angrily at the stone that had the misfortune of hindering her way, enraged by the turn taken by the course of her thoughts.
Justify Spike?
Mitigating circumstances?
Damn it! She cursed mentally.
After promising her eternal love, after swearing to never hurt her, that damned vampire had had sex with another woman!
No, Spike was not entitled to any excuse, and what she was now feeling was not sorrow. It was only the legitimate disappointment of someone who feels cheated.
Disappointment and anger motivated by the double betrayal, she added to herself, remembering the scene that had taken place outside the Magic Box and Xander's expression when he'd learnt about the past relationship between her and Spike.
Damn him and his big mouth!
Why did he want to hurt her again, by telling the ugly truth to one of the people she cared most about?
That morning, Buffy had tried to explain to her friend what had happened, but the confrontation had ended in failure because truth was, she didn't understand her own motives.
After having been resurrected she had been in pain. She had felt different, alienated from the world and unable to feel anything. Spike, for some incomprehensible reason, was the only one able to make her feel better, to make her feel alive.
But in all honesty, she had to admit that all this was not enough to explain her actions. It did not justify her neglect of her mission nor, she thought with her cheeks burning with shame, her dishonesty to her friends.
Buffy felt the familiar tingling in her neck warning her of the presence of an enemy and let out a sigh of relief: a little physical activity was just what she needed.
Lips pulled into a tight smile, she turned around to confront the deformed face of the demon.
Books and papers were scattered all over the bedroom, invading the bed occupied by the two girls.
Willow was lying sideways, Tara was reclined against the headboard, propped up by pillows. Under the blankets, they were both naked.
"It's all a mess!" Willow sighed, staring at the screen of the laptop in front of her.
Tara looked up from the book she was reading to gaze at her partner, lying on her stomach at her feet. Her eyes were full of love and happiness. "These things take time. We'll figure it out." She replied, smiling confidently.
"Sure," Willow joked, continuing to press on the keyboard. "We'll decipher codes, foil evil schemes..."
"... Finally get out of bed?"
"I was with you up until there!"
Tara laughed softly. They had spent the last few hours making love and making up for lost time but it was never enough for either one.
"Whoa!" With sudden attention, Willow looked at the images that unfolded rapidly on-screen.
"What is it?" The blonde girl dropped the book and approached her, concerned.
"It's the content of-" The ringing of the telephone interrupted Willow's explanation and, after having placed a quick kiss on her lover's bare shoulder, she reached for the receiver on the bedside table.
Something is wrong. I'm losing it. Buffy thought ruefully, rubbing her sore side.
Before ending up in ashes, that damn vampire had struck her with enough force to send her crashing into a tombstone. But the fault was hers for having let her guard down, and she realized with a bit of concern that lately it was happening too often.
Frowning, she leaned hard on the bath, put the plug in and started the water running.
The door opened.
"You hurt? You're not moving so well." Without waiting for an invitation, Spike entered the bathroom. His voice showed his concern for her, but the expression on his face was tight and focused.
"Get out."
"We need to talk."
"I really don't." Wrapped in a long gray bathrobe, Buffy turned to look at him, trying to convey with her eyes the exhaustion she felt.
She couldn't stay with him, not now. Too many things had happened and her mind still held the image of him and Anya on the table of the Magic Box, Xander's face when he found out the truth about them... and then there was the matter of Riley, still so fresh, recent.
Too much, too fast.
"Well, this isn't just about you... as much you'd like it to be." He closed the door, ignoring her words.
She faced him tough-looking, arms crossed over her chest. "You spoke. I listened. Now leave."
There was a brief silence.
Spike looked at her and the sharp lines of his face softened as he glimpsed her vulnerability behind the mask of hardness. He remembered Dawn's words: if you wanted to hurt her, congratulations, it worked.
He should have been happy, flattered at the thought he was able to hurt her but weirdly he wasn't. Instead, he felt a pang in his chest, right where there once was a living, breathing organ.
"I'm sorry." He paused before continuing, his voice quiet. "Not that it matters any more, but I needed you to know that."
"Why?" She asked as she wondered why she even cared to know his motives. What did it matter?
"Because I care about you." A few, sincere words that did not transmit even remotely the truth about r03;r03;his feelings for her.
"Then you might want to try the not sleeping with my friends."
Here she was again: hard as stone, inflexible, sarcastic.
"It's not ..." Spike rolled his eyes, trying to contain his rising irritation. "I didn't go to Anya for that. I was looking for a spell. "
"You were going to use a spell on me?" She asked, incredulously.
"It wasn't for you! I wanted something ... anything, to make these feelings stop!" Spike slapped hard on his chest, his face taut as he tried to keep at bay the emotions flowing through him. "I just wanted it to stop ..."
He fell silent for a moment, his head bowed, before continuing with defeat in his voice: "You should have let him kill me."
Then he lifted his blue eyes on her, in a silent question. Why? Why had she prevented Xander dusting him? Why did she defend him?
Dismayed, Buffy was unable to face the intensity of his gaze and lowered her own. She searched within herself for an honest answer. "I couldn't do that."
A flicker of hope was kindled in Spike's eyes. "Why?"
"You know why." She said, tiredly, as she turned to move towards the tub.
"Because you ..."
"Buffy!" The door burst open and a breathless Willow rushed in. Behind her was Tara, white faced. "Oh," Willow hesitated briefly as she took in the presence of the vampire, then went back to the issue that had led her to search for her friend. "Xander! I think he's in trouble! "
"Xander?" At once Buffy's thoughts ran to her young friend, to his bitter, defeated expression when he'd left her that morning. A shiver of fear ran down her back. "What? What did he do?" She asked, alarmed, as she grabbed Willow by the arms.
"Nothing! I mean, I don't know! He called a little while ago and at first I didn't even realize it was him ..." Willow stopped the hysterical flow of words to shake her head, still confused by the weird call. "At first I thought it was a joke. One of those phone calls ... uh, you know! Moans, gasps and stuff like that ... And then I recognized his voice! And he ... he ..."
"Willow!"
"He asked for help, Buffy! Xander asked for help!"
They were in Spike's De Soto, the vampire in the driver's seat, the Slayer beside him, the two witches in the rear. The car sped through the night, filled with a tense silence.
"Anya!" Spike exclaimed suddenly.
Buffy turned toward him like a fury. "What the fuck has Anya to do with this, now!"
"She bloody well has a lot to do with this! She may have..." the vampire stopped. Although he was sure that was the common thought, he didn't want to be the one advancing the possibility that something bad had happened to the whelp.
"What? You're crazy! Anya could never ... "
"You think? But she kept trying to get me to make a vengeance wish against the whel.. against Xander!"
At the word vengeance, the silence weighed heavy again. Appalled, the three girls remembered their recent meetings with Anya and her seemingly rambling speeches. How could they have failed to understand?
"Vengeance." Willow whispered, after a few seconds. "You mean ..."
"Yeah. Bye bye Anya, welcome back Anyanka." Was Spike's dry reply.
"But how ...?"
"Vampire, remember? What, you think I dunno when there's a demon near me?"
"I would say under, rather." Buffy hissed, sarcastic, then bit her lip, turning her head toward the window. This was so not the time to drag up the dirt, and the eloquent silence that greeted her comment confirmed it.
"The Magic Box! It's still open!" Tara pointed towards the lit shop.
"Stop!" the Slayer promptly ordered. Then she didn't even wait for the car to come to a complete stop, and rushed out.
"Fuck!" Spike muttered between his teeth, stopping the De Soto in the middle of the road with a squeal of brakes. A second later he was at Buffy's heels.
"Are you okay, honey?" Willow asked, looking worriedly at her lover. Tara was rubbing her shoulder, which she had bumped when Spike braked so sharply.
"It's nothing." Tara pointed at the shop where Buffy was knocking down the door with a kick. "What do we do now?" She asked in a whisper.
Their hands instinctively sought each other, erasing the physical distance between them, as they silently watched the Slayer disappear into the shop with the vampire.
"We wait." Was Willow's quiet reply.
TBC