Chapter Two

          How many nights did Willow remember waking in Spike's arm? Her cheeks burning with tears and her lips parted to some unuttered cry. She dreamt so often of Buffy. Every night, it seem, Willow watched her friend die over and over again unable to stop it; unable to save her. If only I had been there, Willow thought, I might have been able to help. But Willow had done as Buffy told her to do: stay put. Xander and Willow and Giles, they had sat in the Magic Shop for hours before realizing that something was wrong. Willow felt it the instant it happened. An icy finger trailed down her spine and she knew that Buffy was gone. It was then that Willow wished for Tara, but the young witch had left because Willow wasn't willing to leave her Sunnydale life and start a "normal" life with her. Tara had been so cold, so selfish. She couldn't see that Willow could never leave her friends; that she never wanted too. Giles was called back mere days after Buffy funeral and Xander just up and left one morning without even saying goodbye. All she had left was Spike and all he had was Willow.

          Willow had grown so quiet after Buffy's funeral. She and Spike would talk every now and then but other than that Willow kept to herself. She stopped attending classes and refused to leave her house for any reason. Slipping so slowly into her own mind; her own pain, Willow couldn't see the hope that stood right before her. Spike was the only person she let in; the only person she trusted enough to reveal her grief. When did things so suddenly change? When did Willow start seeing Spike as a friend instead of just a vampire? They were each other's support and together they tried to pull their lives back together.

          "Hey red," Spike spoke his seat on the couch. Willow turned her head away the television. "How 'bout you and me go out tonight?"

          "Go where?"

          "Wherever," Spike shrugged.

          "I don't know Spike," Willow turned away. "I don't really feel like going out."

          "Come on love," he insisted. "When was the last time you left the house?" Willow shrugged. "Three weeks," Spike answered his own question. "Please Willow? For me. Just a walk around the block."

          "Okay Spike," she sighed. "Around the block."

          It was a beautiful night; a slight chill hung in the air. The moon was out and the stars twinkled. Porch lights shimmered a harsh yellow glow and puddles from an earlier rain reflected silver and black. Spike was on guard, listening for any movement that might be dangerous. Willow was too lost in her own thoughts and memories to pay any attention to her surroundings. Deep down she was hoping they would be attacked so that her life could just end and take with it all the pain and grief that was swelling inside of her. Sighing, Willow crossed her arms over her chest, shivering slightly. Noticing that she was cold, Spike laid his leather trench coat over her shoulders. Smiling her thanks Willow clutched the material around her body.

          Even though it was dangerous Willow had always loved walking at night. Sunnydale was just so beautiful beneath the stars. But after Buffy came to town and brought Xander and Willow into her life Willow had been restricted from going out at night except when necessary and even then there was no time to appreciate the beauty. It was strange really that the one person Willow trusted with her life was one of the creatures she so completely feared. She had never really trusted Spike before; he was so closed off and cold that she had a chance to really get to know him. Now, though, he was everything in her world. All she had left. There was nothing she didn't know about him now; nothing he wouldn't tell her.

          "Spike," Willow stopped walking. "Where are we going? You said around the block and this is not the block," she turned an accusing eye to the bleach blond vampire.

          "Caught that huh?" Spike said sheepishly. Willow starred angrily. "I'm worried about you pet," Spike confessed. "You've been slipping ever since…" Willow winced at the memory and Spike quickly moved on. "I thought that maybe if you had something to take your mind off of it you'd be able to move past it."

          "What are you talking about Spike?"

          "Over here," he took Willow's hand and led her through the cast-iron gate at the entrance of the park. Sitting beneath a wide tree base was a checkered blanket held down with lit candles; a large picnic basket sitting at the center.

          "Oh Spike," Willow whispered. "It's perfect."

          "Sit," he smiled. Lifting the basket lid Spike pulled out two wine glasses and filled both with deep red wine. Sipping the warm liquid Willow watched Spike pull several containers and leaned in to see what each held. A rich brie cheese was placed beside a plate of thin toast crackers; a bowl of fresh fruit was laid out beside a smaller bowl of whipped cream; and a third container held two slices of a moist chocolate cake."

          "It's wonderful," Willow smiled. "Thank you Spike."

          "Anything for you red," Spike responded.