Vignette

You're wrong when it's right

It's black and it's white

We fight, we break up

We kiss, we make up

– Katy Perry, Hot 'n' Cold.

I've had to deal with blonde jokes a lot in my life, the assumption that I can't understand anything based on my hair color. When people hear the way I talk, sometimes? It really helps back up the stereotype. Laughs all round.

Whatever. It's not exactly the hardest part of my life or anything. Except now the joke's on me.

I've been so dumb, when the truth's been in front of my face for so long. Yeah, I totally deserved every one of those jokes and more.

If I'm being honest – which, hey, I'll allow this once, even if I won't say it out loud – I've been worse than dumb, purposefully ignoring true things I didn't want to see; hogtying, gagging, and strangling them before they could take hold in my stupid, stupid Buffy brain. I guess violence is just in my nature. Buffy: Slayer of (most) Vampires, (some) demons, and nasty, uncomfortable truths.

Nature's a weird thing, that's the crust of it. Crux. Whatever. Maybe I can't help being dumb and violent... though, I'm not sure really believe that. I need to stop trying to weasel out of taking responsibility. I have to own the things I say and do, and ignore. Me, who is apparently Chief Hypocrite of the Hypocrite People.

I looked at Spike, made assumptions about his nature, and punished him for it, lumping him in with every other demon and evil thing. Even while I let certain demons live, if they were the non-violent type. (Man, my Chief Hypocrite crown is heavy. All this self-reflection is making my head hurt.)

Spike is… hard to define, annoying vampire that he is. Yes, he's a vampire. A murder-y kill-y vampire, not a non-violent demon. Or, at least, he was. Now he's… God, why is it so difficult to find words to describe what he is? Right, of course, because it's not simple. Which is my point.

Spike is a lot of things. Some bad, some good – genuinely good, I can admit that here in my own brain if nowhere else – the rest somewhere in between. It's the in-between place that scares me, so much more than the dark. That's probably why I ran away any time I saw it, and shoved my hypocrite crown over my eyes.

But even if I'm not ready to explore the grey bits yet (which, yeah, so not ready!), I think it's time I admit they exist.

Before, I never stopped to question what was going on with him when the truth of his actions screamed at me that he was living beyond black and white.

It never occurred to me before that, even in how he looks, he is both.