Title: Shadows and Regrets
PART TWO
She had been standing there, motionless, still like the breezeless night. Faith heard him approaching but only acknowledged this with the slightest tilt of her head, indifferent to the point of not even turning around to face him.
"Hey, Spike."
"Slayer," nodded Spike, pausing for a moment by her shoulder. He knelt down and replaced the barely wilted flowers with a fresh bouquet.
"Um, how did you know it was me and not some bad ass looking for a fight?" asked Spike, standing in front of her to block her view of the grave. Faith still stared ahead as if he weren't there.
"I smelled the flowers," shrugged Faith, finally focusing her eyes on him.
"Oh. Right," nodded Spike.
"They're nice. She would've liked them," said Faith.
Spike almost smiled. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as suddenly neither of them knew what to say.
"I know you're seeing Dawn. Oh, she didn't tell me. And it's okay. I, I won't tell the others," frowned Faith.
"I don't give a bloody damn what you tell 'em," snapped Spike.
Faith smiled.
"Sure you do. You just don't know it yet."
"Dawn's so-called friends don't deserve the pedestal you put them on," sneered Spike.
"Huh?"
"Did Dawn tell you how alone she was?" asked Spike.
"What?"
"We were there, with...just standing there! They were all too wrapped up in their own grief to move...to so much as put an arm around little bit, see if she was okay..."
Spike looked back at the grave for a moment.
"Bloody hell, Slayer! She was her sister! And she was just standing there, all alone..."
Spike couldn't look at Faith for a moment.
"Spike, you said we," said Faith softly.
"Wh-what?"
"You said we were there. You're a part of them now," said Faith.
Spike didn't look happy but he didn't disagree.
"You...you didn't..."
"I could barely stand!" yelled Spike. He suddenly had the urge to smoke but resisted. He never smoked here. Buffy never liked smoke.
"But no, I didn't...I didn't," answered Spike, hanging his head.
"Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you...do you think we could've...if we had been there, would she have died anyway?" asked Faith softly.
"I was there," answered Spike sharply.
"Yeah. Sorry. I only meant..."
"What's worse, Slayer? Having failed...or not knowing if you would have?"
Faith looked down for a moment, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
"It's the same thing, isn't it?" whispered Faith.
Spike opened his mouth to reply but had no answer for that. He nodded and Faith turned away from him.
"Goodnight, Spike," she said, not looking back as she walked away.
"Goodnight, Faith."
Faith hesitated, missing a step, but then kept walking. She didn't look back.
Spike just stood there, not looking at the grave, not looking at the wilted flowers in his hand. He just stood there, watching, listening...simply keeping her company. And Spike heard him approaching even before he sensed his beating heart.
His racing heart.
Unlike Faith, he turned around, curious about this unwanted visitor, this intrusion. And then Spike drifted back, fading into the shadows.
By his stumbling walk Spike could see that Giles, although not drunk, was far from sober. Whatever he carried in his hand was alternately dragged behind or leaned upon for support. At the foot of the grave he paused, opening his hand as if forgetting it had even held something.
Giles leaned forward, hands on his knees as if the effort to get here had winded him. He couldn't raise his eyes even to read her name upon the granite. Just being here made his stomach churn, the bile rising warm in his throat, his rumpled shirt clinging wet to his back. He fell to his knees, ashamed that he was here, knowing that he could never...
"Fool," he whispered, shattering the oppressive silence. The air seemed heavier, only allowing him shallow gasps of breath.
His fingers clawed at the dew soaked grass as the first tears came. He closed his eyes tightly, his upper body wracked by silent sobs. Raising his fist above his head, Giles drove it down hard into the cold earth. Pain stabbed through his arm up to his elbow. But this was a pain he could understand.
For the first time since her death he gave in to his anger, the rage that he had held back, always there, roiling just under the surface. He smashed his fist down again. And again. Tearing into the dirt now with both hands, Giles dug fiercely, animal-like, without thought, without remorse. He ignored the pain as his flesh tore against stone, ripped against the hard packed darkness.
Darkness.
Giles froze, his breath drawn through clenched teeth. And he looked up at her tombstone.
The moan that escaped him came not from shame but cut deeper, formed from a simple, primal emotion. Fear. Stronger than pain. Much stronger than Giles could hope to be now.
Giles tried weakly to stand, failed, and crawled away using the backs of his hands for support. Finally he managed to stand. And Giles ran.
Spike slowly shook his head, staring at the desecration of Buffy's grave. He bent down and picked up the shovel Giles had dropped, glancing in the direction her watcher had gone. Tossing the tool away in disgust, Spike reached into his duster and pulled out his cigarettes, quickly lighting one.
"Bloody hell," he mumbled out loud, shaking his head again.
Spike decided to follow Giles too see if he got home safely. He owed him that much.
*****
Faith slid onto the stool and nodded at the man behind the bar.
"How ya doin', Ed?" smiled Faith.
Ed shrugged indifferently as he placed a beer in front of Faith.
"Slow night and the Dodgers blew another lead. Extra innings," he said, motioning with his head to the television above him. "They'll blow it. Again."
"I keep tellin' ya, even if they make the playoffs, your boys aren't beating the Red Sox," said Faith as she tossed a five onto the bar. Ed looked at the bill and glared at her.
"You know your money's no good here. Put that away," he ordered, tossing a bar rag over his shoulder. Faith was going to argue but thought better of it. She tucked the bill back into her pocket.
"Thanks," she smiled, raising the glass to her lips. Ed leaned towards her and whispered.
"Hey, don't be thinking I'm a nice guy or anything. I have my own unsavory motives. You're the only pretty face ever walks in here."
Faith smiled.
"Ed?"
"Yeah?"
"You're not fooling anyone. You're a nice guy...and you're full of shit," said Faith with a straight face. Ed laughed and walked down to the other end of the bar to serve another customer.
Faith spun around on her stool and looked around. It was a slow night. Only seven people and at least four of them Faith had seen here before. The red headed guy that Ed was serving a beer to stared at her but she ignored him. She didn't see Matthieu and frowned without realizing it.
Turning back to her beer, she raised the glass to her lips...but didn't drink. Instead she smiled. Matthieu had just come in through the door behind her and was looking at her. Faith didn't care that he had obviously noticed her smile. She put the beer back down on the bar.
"Hey," nodded Faith, suddenly trying to act indifferent.
"You decided to come back. Again," smiled Matthieu.
"What can I say? Something keeps drawing me back," answered Faith, smiling back.
"Must be the ambiance," said Matthieu.
"Nah, I only drink beer."
He stared at her with a blank expression.
"Um, that was an attempt at a joke, however lame," winced Faith.
Matthieu smiled again and walked past her.
"Not too crowded tonight. Maybe you'll get off early," said Faith, picking up her beer again. Matthieu stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.
"Was that an attempt at an offer, however lame?"
Faith blinked, but only once.
"Maybe," she smiled. Faith fought the urge to watch his face to see his reaction and instead took a big gulp from her glass. When she did look back at him he had wandered over to one of the pool tables, talking to another one of the regulars. She didn't mind watching him. Especially when he didn't notice.
Matthieu was only a few inches taller than her and a little on the skinny side. But his love of sports gave his taut muscles definition and his skin was deeply tanned under his sweatshirt. He had cut off the sleeves. Surprisingly he didn't have an earring but his brown hair was tied off into a short ponytail that went just past the base of his neck. Faith was ashamed that when she went home after first meeting him she couldn't remember the color of his eyes. They were green. Envious of his tan, she hadn't even noticed.
Glancing back at Ed, Faith noticed that the guy at the end of the bar was still staring at her. She shook her head and concentrated on her beer. And then she noticed that Ed was walking over to her.
"Let me guess, George wants to buy me a beer," sighed Faith.
Ed only shrugged.
"Man just doesn't take a hint, does he?" complained Faith.
"You know his story," began Ed.
"Yeah, I've heard it a hundred times and not only from him."
"So, let him buy you a beer. What harm is there in that?" asked Ed.
"Feed a stray and it might just follow you home," countered Faith.
"Your call," replied Ed, trying not to smile.
"Fine. But I'm only doing this for you. Maybe you'll get a good tip. Besides, I was done with this one," added Faith, handing him the empty glass.
Ed did smile and poured her another beer. Faith nodded at George and mouthed the words 'thanks'. She was surprised to see him smile, nod in return...and then look away.
Faith decided to see how well Matthieu was at billiards.
*****
She had fallen asleep this time but once again Dawn was awake after only about an hour. She decided to get up and go to the bathroom, maybe get a glass of milk. Her mother had always told her there was something in milk that would help her sleep. Dawn didn't turn the hall light on so as not to wake either Willow or Tara. Their room was right across from hers. The one that once belonged to her mother. Buffy and her mom...she shook her head, now fully awake.
Dawn heard them talking and turned to walk away, more to avoid her own embarrassment rather than intrude on the two girl's privacy. But then she heard Willow raise her voice and couldn't help herself. She stopped to listen.
"Tara, we can't tell anyone else."
"But..."
"No. They wouldn't understand."
Silence. Dawn held her breath, worried that they might've heard her.
"Tell you what, if you think we're getting in too far over our heads or, or you're uncomfortable after we find out what's involved, I'll tell Giles. Okay?" asked Willow.
"Okay," repeated Tara, unconvinced.
"It doesn't seem too complicated for a thingy-that-goes-bump-in-the-night kind of thingy," reassured Willow. "And I thought you were the one who wanted this kept a secret."
"I did. But...getting into trouble is never hard, Willow. Not for us."
"You underestimate our witchy ways," answered Willow, causing Tara to giggle.
"Giles and Xander were involved in the enjoining spell. Don't you think contacting her would be easier if they were involved? I mean, you were, well...enjoined, ya know?" asked Tara.
Dawn fell back against the wall behind her, leaning against it to overcome the weakness in her knees. The wall's hardness comforted her and stopped the room from spinning.
"Yes, but that would involve telling them. Hence the no word. You think...you think Giles has anything with her blood on it? Not from when...but, well, even besides all the times she got beat up, there must've been some training sessions where she cut herself. It would be easier if..."
"And what do you propose to do, ask him?" interrupted Tara.
"No," whined Willow, her feelings obviously hurt.
"Oh, honey, let's not talk about it any more tonight. We just need that book and I know Giles has a copy of it at the shop. We'll get it tomorrow."
"Alright," pouted Willow as only she could.
"Hey, you. Slide on over here," laughed Tara.
Dawn saw the light under their door go out and her eyes grew wider than they already were. She quickly tiptoed away from the door.
*****
Faith banked the eight ball off the cushion and grinned as it dropped softly into the corner pocket. She slowly rolled her eyes over to Matthieu. He was shaking his head.
"You've done this before," he accused.
"I've done lots of things before. I just don't brag about 'em. Well, unless you ask," she teased.
A slow song began to play. Faith turned around to see George over by the jukebox. And he was looking at her through the haze of the ever present cigarette smoke that made the bar seem even darker than it was. Even worse, he was now walking towards her.
"Uh, Faith, maybe I should talk to..."
"I've got it," winked Faith as she placed the poolstick on top of the faded green felt of the table. She turned to face the approaching George. His walk was unsteady at best.
By now only Ed was left in the bar besides the three of them. And he was cleaning up, grateful to close a few minutes early tonight. The Dodgers had indeed lost.
"Faith, would you like to dance with me?" asked George. Faith was surprised by his politeness.
"George, it's getting late. And Ed wants to go home," she said sympathetically, nodding in Ed's direction.
"Well, I'm going to hear this song before I leave anyway. It's just one song. And...and I did buy ya that beer," grinned George. He was missing several teeth.
"And I appreciate that. But I was going to dance with Matthieu. Maybe some other time, okay?"
Faith turned, hoping George would give up. And then she felt his hand firmly grip her arm. He spun Faith around so that she faced him. He was stronger than she had thought but was only caught off guard by his action. She was in no way afraid of him.
"Tell ya what, how 'bout a goodnight kiss and we'll call it even...for tonight," he leered, looking down at her.
"How about you take your hand off me before I seriously hurt you," demanded Faith calmly. She sensed Matthieu moving around the pool table towards her. Even Ed had stopped what he was doing and was watching them.
"This is your last warning. Go outside, get on your hog and leave. Now!" warned Faith, calmly but firmly.
George only tightened his grip and smiled. He leaned in towards Faith's face.
"I'd rather get on you," he grinned.
"Have it your way," shrugged Faith.
Faith grabbed his wrist with her free hand and effortlessly but quickly forced George's arm up behind his back with a sickening wet snap. She pushed him away in disgust but he surprised her by spinning around and lashing out with a left hook. Faith caught his hand mid-punch and squeezed, being careful to apply just enough pressure to cause severe pain but not to break bone. He winced in agony but again surprised her by not crying out.
Dropping down into a spin kick, Faith's foot caught him in the side of the face. George was flung violently backwards and he thudded against the wall next to the jukebox, causing the record to skip. He didn't move.
Matthieu stood next to Faith, staring at George with his mouth open.
"You're not like other girls, are you Faith?" he asked without taking his eyes off of George.
"You have no idea," laughed Faith. Faith hesitated, then grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him to her, kissing him hard on the mouth. Teasing him with a guttural moan, she pulled away and winked.
"Guess that proves you're not a guy dressed in drag," smirked Matthieu, glancing again at George.
"What, you don't think these puppies are real?" said Faith, leaning forward to reveal some cleavage. "The name's Faith, not Lola."
Matthieu tilted his head and studied the girl in front of him. Ed went back to cleaning the bar.
"Not like other girls? Don't be so sure," smirked Matthieu. Very quickly he reached down and grabbed both of Faith's wrists, forcing them above her head as he pushed her back against the wall not far from George. He smiled ever so slightly and leaned in to kiss her. Faith closed her eyes and played along.
Matthieu kissed her so softly, so tenderly that Faith's eyes flew open in surprise. Letting go of her arms, he slid one hand around her waist and eased the other around her neck, the palm of his hand resting on the base of her neck. So gently did he pull her body to his that it took Faith a moment to realize that her arms were still raised above her head. She wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders, her eyes closing again as she lost herself in his embrace.
He reluctantly pulled away, gasping for breath. Faith slowly opened her eyes.
"Wow. That was...unexpected," whispered Faith.
"Hmm, not exactly the reaction I was looking for," said Matthieu, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, I didn't mean...it's just, it's just been so long since I've been touched...I mean kissed. Kissed like that," corrected Faith, somewhat embarrassed.
They stood looking at one another, suddenly not knowing what to say.
"Um, aren't you forgetting something?" asked Faith.
"Huh?"
"We were going to dance," said Faith, closing the distance between them again. "Wouldn't want to make a liar out of me now, would you?"
"Oh! No. No, of course not," smiled Matthieu.
Faith smiled back and pressed her cheek against his chest. He responded by hugging her tighter. They swayed back and forth, barely moving. Too soon Matthieu spoke up.
"Faith?"
"Mmm?"
"The music stopped. A few minutes ago."
"Oh. Hadn't noticed," lied Faith poorly but with a smile.
Matthieu stood still and Faith hesitatingly looked up at him.
"Want to go for a ride?" he asked. Faith frowned.
"Okay, maybe not so unexpected after all."
Matthieu laughed and held up one finger. He turned and knelt down behind the pool table. When he stood he handed Faith a motorcycle helmet.
"Oh," nodded Faith, rolling her eyes.
Matthieu smiled.
"Sure. Um, sorry about the mess," said Faith, nodding towards George. "Didn't mean to be doing your job."
"Not a problem. I like a girl who can take care of herself. And Ed will see that George gets home."
"What's his story anyway?," asked Faith.
"George? He's usually harmless. Vietnam vet, drinks too much...has his own demons to deal with," sighed Matthieu.
"Yeah, I know what that's like," answered Faith distantly.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," said Faith, shaking her head. "Ready to go?"
Matthieu held out his hand. Faith only hesitated because she was surprised. She slipped her hand into his, trying not to smile.
*****
Matthieu cut the engine and booted the kickstand into place.
"Is this the place?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yeah," nodded Faith, suddenly realizing that her arms were still wrapped around his waist. She let go both awkwardly and reluctantly. Matthieu stood, stepping over the bike and extending his forearm to help Faith up.
"I'm impressed. A gentleman!" smiled Faith. Matthieu's only response was to wink at her.
"That's a big house for just you and your niece," said Matthieu.
"Never seemed too big before. See, uh, her mom and her big sis both passed away this year," explained Faith.
"Oh wow!" grimaced Matthieu.
"Yeah," frowned Faith. "A friend of mine became her legal guardian and lives here too. With her girlfriend."
"That's nice," nodded Matthieu.
"It helps. Makes the place seem...smaller, you know?" asked Faith, not expecting an answer. The fact that he didn't even blink when she mentioned Willow's girlfriend only raised Faith's estimation of Matthieu even higher.
"So...I gotta get in, get breakfast started," said Faith.
"Sure you don't want to take her out to a diner instead?" asked Matthieu.
"No, like I said before, I'm not much of a morning person. And Dawn would sleep 'til noon if I didn't harass her," said Faith as she pulled off the helmet. "She has summer school. Needed to make up...well, with two funerals just months apart, you can imagine..."
"No, I don't think I can," interrupted Matthieu. Faith nodded gratefully.
"I had a great time. Thanks," smiled Faith.
"Me too."
Matthieu leaned in and closed his eyes. Faith nervously glanced at the sky and was again moved by how passionately gentle his lips were on hers. He pulled away and she held out her helmet to him.
"Nah, you keep it. Might need it again soon," he smiled.
"You mean you won't be picking up any more riders before I see you again?" Faith asked, both teasingly and hopefully.
"Not a chance."
No doubt about it, Faith was getting to like his smile more every time she saw it. Matthieu walked back to his bike and Faith ran to the front door, digging out her key from her front pocket along the way. The motorcycle had started behind her but she didn't turn around until she had crossed the threshold. She turned and waved good-bye. Matthieu nodded and drove off.
Faith shut the door. And smiled. She knew Willow was in the kitchen even before she smelled the coffee.
"Hey," smiled Faith.
"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" asked Willow, glancing at the clock while sipping from her mug.
"Oh yeah. I, uh, kinda lost track of time."
Willow smiled.
"He's cute. For a guy, that is," added Willow.
Faith laughed.
"Wow, I haven't heard you laugh in a long time! He must be something, this Matthieu," said Willow, suddenly staring at the helmet in Faith's hands. Faith noticed and put it down on the table.
"Oh, he is," agreed Faith, smiling and not looking at Willow.
Willow's expression became serious.
"Does...does he know?" she asked timidly.
Faith shrugged as she pulled a chair out and sat down.
"Want some coffee?" asked Willow, mad at herself for asking such a stupid question. "Or, or do you think it will keep you up?"
"If I don't fall asleep right away it won't be because of caffeine," answered Faith, grinning. "But no, thanks anyway."
"How about your usual from the fridge? I'll get it," offered Willow, still trying to change the subject.
"Nah. Willow, he's got to sense something ain't right here, don't cha think?" asked Faith.
Willow sat down in the chair next to Faith and put her mug on the table.
"You've got a crush on him! I'm becoming a little more impressed with this Matthieu. So, is he a good kisser?" teased Willow.
"You were spying on us!" accused Faith.
"Uh, no. You're lipstick is all smudged."
"Oh."
And now Willow laughed.
"Faith...Faith, what can I say? I went out with a werewolf. These things tend to work out. Um, well...okay, if they're meant to, I mean."
Faith didn't look convinced.
"Maybe you could tell him about Tara and me. How, when you find someone special, that, um...their...orientation doesn't matter."
"Willow, I'm dead. That's not a lifestyle choice."
"Um, well...there's that," agreed Willow, pouting.
"Oh, who am I kidding here? This is never going to work. It's just...it's just another part of the total package," said Faith, trying unsuccessfully to sigh.
"Package?" repeated Willow.
"You know. Payback. My punishment for..."
"No."
"Willow, you don't..."
"No!" snapped Willow emphatically.
"But..."
Willow silenced her with a glare. Faith crossed her arms and pouted.
"I'm not letting you set one foot down that road again," said Willow.
Faith looked at her and looked away. But she wasn't pouting anymore. Willow smiled. And kept smiling.
"What?" said Faith, finally unable to ignore her grin.
"Still didn't tell me how he was as a kisser," whined Willow.
Faith tried hard not to smile.
"Come on, give me a number or something! What is he, a seven? An eight?"
Faith hid her smile with her hand.
"Oh, puhlease! You liar! You haven't kissed him enough to rate him higher than that!"
Faith didn't answer but she didn't stop smiling.
"Thanks, Willow," whispered Faith. "Thanks."
Willow leaned over and they hugged.
"I'm happy for you. Just...go slow. I don't want to see you hurt," answered Willow into her ear. And then she felt Faith's body stiffen.
"Morning, Tara!" said Faith, a little louder than she meant to. Willow pulled away and smiled at Tara. She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, blinking her eyes as if she just got up.
"Morning, hon. I'm sorry, did we wake you?" asked Willow as she stood.
"No. And hey, don't I get a good morning kiss?" pouted Tara.
"Oh, no, Tara, we weren't..."
Willow ignored Faith's protest and greeted Tara with a kiss and a hug.
"Is there coffee?" asked Tara.
"Um, sure, but don't you want tea?" asked Willow, scrunching her eyebrows together.
Tara walked past her and opened a cupboard, taking out a mug. With her back to them, Faith mouthed the word 'shit' to Willow but Willow only shrugged and smiled.
"No, I didn't sleep much last night. I need caffeine and lots of it," said Tara.
"What are you two doing up so early anyway?" asked Faith.
Both girls glanced warily at each other. Tara avoided looking at Faith altogether.
"Oh, we, uh...decided it was time to get back on our broomsticks and start fooling around again," nodded Willow. Tara tilted her head at her; Faith raised her eyebrows.
"With doing spells. Together, I mean. We've been neglecting...well, it's been a while," explained Willow.
Faith didn't change her expression.
"Sorry. Didn't know you were having trouble...doing spells. Together," added Faith.
"Oh! No, see, we, we need to do some research first, hit the books, round up some ingredients..."
"For the spells," added Tara.
"Right," agreed Willow enthusiastically.
"Okay...uh, I was going to make pancakes for Dawnie. You guys hungry? I could just double the recipe," offered Faith.
"No, that's...," said both girls at once.
"I'm not hungry yet," said Tara.
"And we've got to get to the Magic Box," said Willow.
"Giles doesn't open until ten. You don't like my cooking!" accused Faith suspiciously.
"Don't be ridiculous!" protested Willow. "We love your cooking."
"Right. What she said," nodded Tara.
Faith looked at Willow and then at Tara. She smiled and shook her head.
"In fact, why don't I make breakfast for her today? You must be tired, Faith. Why not call it a night...er, day, I mean. Hmm, what do you call it?" muttered Willow to herself.
Faith was going to argue but saw that Willow was hinting with her eyes towards Tara. Faith caught on and gathered that Willow needed some alone time with her girl.
"Um, sure. Thanks, I am beat," nodded Faith.
"Oh, and Faith? About Matthieu. Maybe...what I mean is, taking things slow, it just isn't you. So...maybe you should tell him, you know? Being honest is always best," said Willow, looking directly at Tara. Tara visibly blushed. "Before..."
Faith interrupted Willow and she seemed grateful for it.
"Thanks. Maybe you're right. Goodnight," said Faith.
"Goodnight," responded Tara quickly, as if hurrying her along.
Faith looked at her but quickly looked back at Willow.
"Goodnight," said Willow, before the silence grew awkward.
Faith nodded and left. Tara didn't look at Willow. Instead she turned around and poured herself a cup of coffee. Willow's first instinct was to walk over to her and put her arm around her. Instead she let out a shallow sigh.
"What?" demanded Tara without turning around.
"Nothing," snapped Willow. And now Tara did turn around, putting her cup down on the counter.
"No, just say it," said Tara.
"Okay, fine! Why does it have to be like this with you two? It's always just so, so tense. And she's trying, ya know? You could at least meet her half way," added Willow, lowering her voice.
"Pfft!"
Willow put her hands on her hips and glared at Tara.
"It doesn't bother you that she's in her room? I mean, there's even a photo of Buffy by her bed. It's, it's just...wrong somehow," whined Tara.
"I have a photo of Buffy by our bed. Is that wrong? And we're in Joyce's bed!"
"That's different. It's...been longer," answered Tara.
What do you want me to do, throw her out onto the street?" asked Willow rhetorically.
"Never seemed to bother her before," replied Tara but lowering her gaze.
"Tara!"
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Nor did they look at one another.
"Anything else?" asked Willow softly, desperately hoping this old argument was over. Tara hesitated, crossing her arms.
"Is it...do you think the others notice too?" winced Tara.
"What? I don't..."
"Faith said...about doing spells. Together," whispered Tara. "Do the others..."
"Oh, honey. No. She didn't mean..."
"Yes, she did. Willow, you hold me, but you don't touch me. How can you lie with me and not...don't you...don't you want me anymore? Did I do something wr-wrong?" asked Tara, her voice strained.
"Oh, Tara! You know it's not you."
Willow quickly walked over to Tara and hugged her but Tara kept her arms crossed. She pressed her nose to Tara's, fighting back tears.
"I'm sorry. You know I would never hurt you. It's just...I'll try. Soon. I promise," said Willow. She kissed her and Tara nodded, releasing her arms and returning her hug.
"No, I'm sorry. I know you're not...it's me, I shouldn't have even brought it up," sighed Tara.
"Shh," breathed Willow, hugging her tighter.
Just then Dawn walked into the kitchen. From the living room.
"Dawn! I thought you were still sleeping," said Willow, releasing Tara. Tara turned to look at her as well, just as confused.
"I was," replied Dawn.
"But..."
"I fell asleep on the couch last night," explained Dawn.
"You didn't feel good?" asked Tara.
"No, I, I just didn't want to sleep in my room last night," shrugged Dawn, not making eye contact with either of them.
"Oh. Hey, I'm going to make breakfast today. You up for pancakes?" asked Willow.
Dawn ignored her and walked over to the kitchen entrance, looking up at the stairs where Faith had gone. Willow frowned and glanced at Tara. Dawn turned around so fast that she startled Willow.
"I'm in," announced Dawn, her face cold and determined.
"Um...what?" managed Willow.
"Whatever you two are up to. So, what is it? Spell? Seance? Doesn't matter, you need me. I'm in even if you don't," glared Dawn.
"Dawn, I'm not sure...," began Tara.
"I heard you talking last night! I'm sorry, I, I wasn't eavesdropping. Really, I wasn't. I didn't mean to...I was just walking past your door, and..."
Dawn wasn't as confident as she was a moment ago. She looked down, suddenly very upset. Willow and Tara looked at one another, regret in Willow's eyes, fear in Tara's. Willow closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
"Didn't you say it would be easier if you had Buf...her blood? You did, right?" whispered Dawn. Willow looked up and slowly nodded.
"Okay, then. I think we all know that my blood is the same as hers, don't we? I mean, she kinda proved that when..."
Dawn choked back her tears as Willow held out her arms to her. Dawn didn't run but she moved quickly into her embrace. Tara bit her lower lip and shook her head but Willow didn't notice.
"So...what do we have to do?" sniffed Dawn.
END OF PART TWO
PART TWO
She had been standing there, motionless, still like the breezeless night. Faith heard him approaching but only acknowledged this with the slightest tilt of her head, indifferent to the point of not even turning around to face him.
"Hey, Spike."
"Slayer," nodded Spike, pausing for a moment by her shoulder. He knelt down and replaced the barely wilted flowers with a fresh bouquet.
"Um, how did you know it was me and not some bad ass looking for a fight?" asked Spike, standing in front of her to block her view of the grave. Faith still stared ahead as if he weren't there.
"I smelled the flowers," shrugged Faith, finally focusing her eyes on him.
"Oh. Right," nodded Spike.
"They're nice. She would've liked them," said Faith.
Spike almost smiled. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as suddenly neither of them knew what to say.
"I know you're seeing Dawn. Oh, she didn't tell me. And it's okay. I, I won't tell the others," frowned Faith.
"I don't give a bloody damn what you tell 'em," snapped Spike.
Faith smiled.
"Sure you do. You just don't know it yet."
"Dawn's so-called friends don't deserve the pedestal you put them on," sneered Spike.
"Huh?"
"Did Dawn tell you how alone she was?" asked Spike.
"What?"
"We were there, with...just standing there! They were all too wrapped up in their own grief to move...to so much as put an arm around little bit, see if she was okay..."
Spike looked back at the grave for a moment.
"Bloody hell, Slayer! She was her sister! And she was just standing there, all alone..."
Spike couldn't look at Faith for a moment.
"Spike, you said we," said Faith softly.
"Wh-what?"
"You said we were there. You're a part of them now," said Faith.
Spike didn't look happy but he didn't disagree.
"You...you didn't..."
"I could barely stand!" yelled Spike. He suddenly had the urge to smoke but resisted. He never smoked here. Buffy never liked smoke.
"But no, I didn't...I didn't," answered Spike, hanging his head.
"Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you...do you think we could've...if we had been there, would she have died anyway?" asked Faith softly.
"I was there," answered Spike sharply.
"Yeah. Sorry. I only meant..."
"What's worse, Slayer? Having failed...or not knowing if you would have?"
Faith looked down for a moment, then slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
"It's the same thing, isn't it?" whispered Faith.
Spike opened his mouth to reply but had no answer for that. He nodded and Faith turned away from him.
"Goodnight, Spike," she said, not looking back as she walked away.
"Goodnight, Faith."
Faith hesitated, missing a step, but then kept walking. She didn't look back.
Spike just stood there, not looking at the grave, not looking at the wilted flowers in his hand. He just stood there, watching, listening...simply keeping her company. And Spike heard him approaching even before he sensed his beating heart.
His racing heart.
Unlike Faith, he turned around, curious about this unwanted visitor, this intrusion. And then Spike drifted back, fading into the shadows.
By his stumbling walk Spike could see that Giles, although not drunk, was far from sober. Whatever he carried in his hand was alternately dragged behind or leaned upon for support. At the foot of the grave he paused, opening his hand as if forgetting it had even held something.
Giles leaned forward, hands on his knees as if the effort to get here had winded him. He couldn't raise his eyes even to read her name upon the granite. Just being here made his stomach churn, the bile rising warm in his throat, his rumpled shirt clinging wet to his back. He fell to his knees, ashamed that he was here, knowing that he could never...
"Fool," he whispered, shattering the oppressive silence. The air seemed heavier, only allowing him shallow gasps of breath.
His fingers clawed at the dew soaked grass as the first tears came. He closed his eyes tightly, his upper body wracked by silent sobs. Raising his fist above his head, Giles drove it down hard into the cold earth. Pain stabbed through his arm up to his elbow. But this was a pain he could understand.
For the first time since her death he gave in to his anger, the rage that he had held back, always there, roiling just under the surface. He smashed his fist down again. And again. Tearing into the dirt now with both hands, Giles dug fiercely, animal-like, without thought, without remorse. He ignored the pain as his flesh tore against stone, ripped against the hard packed darkness.
Darkness.
Giles froze, his breath drawn through clenched teeth. And he looked up at her tombstone.
The moan that escaped him came not from shame but cut deeper, formed from a simple, primal emotion. Fear. Stronger than pain. Much stronger than Giles could hope to be now.
Giles tried weakly to stand, failed, and crawled away using the backs of his hands for support. Finally he managed to stand. And Giles ran.
Spike slowly shook his head, staring at the desecration of Buffy's grave. He bent down and picked up the shovel Giles had dropped, glancing in the direction her watcher had gone. Tossing the tool away in disgust, Spike reached into his duster and pulled out his cigarettes, quickly lighting one.
"Bloody hell," he mumbled out loud, shaking his head again.
Spike decided to follow Giles too see if he got home safely. He owed him that much.
*****
Faith slid onto the stool and nodded at the man behind the bar.
"How ya doin', Ed?" smiled Faith.
Ed shrugged indifferently as he placed a beer in front of Faith.
"Slow night and the Dodgers blew another lead. Extra innings," he said, motioning with his head to the television above him. "They'll blow it. Again."
"I keep tellin' ya, even if they make the playoffs, your boys aren't beating the Red Sox," said Faith as she tossed a five onto the bar. Ed looked at the bill and glared at her.
"You know your money's no good here. Put that away," he ordered, tossing a bar rag over his shoulder. Faith was going to argue but thought better of it. She tucked the bill back into her pocket.
"Thanks," she smiled, raising the glass to her lips. Ed leaned towards her and whispered.
"Hey, don't be thinking I'm a nice guy or anything. I have my own unsavory motives. You're the only pretty face ever walks in here."
Faith smiled.
"Ed?"
"Yeah?"
"You're not fooling anyone. You're a nice guy...and you're full of shit," said Faith with a straight face. Ed laughed and walked down to the other end of the bar to serve another customer.
Faith spun around on her stool and looked around. It was a slow night. Only seven people and at least four of them Faith had seen here before. The red headed guy that Ed was serving a beer to stared at her but she ignored him. She didn't see Matthieu and frowned without realizing it.
Turning back to her beer, she raised the glass to her lips...but didn't drink. Instead she smiled. Matthieu had just come in through the door behind her and was looking at her. Faith didn't care that he had obviously noticed her smile. She put the beer back down on the bar.
"Hey," nodded Faith, suddenly trying to act indifferent.
"You decided to come back. Again," smiled Matthieu.
"What can I say? Something keeps drawing me back," answered Faith, smiling back.
"Must be the ambiance," said Matthieu.
"Nah, I only drink beer."
He stared at her with a blank expression.
"Um, that was an attempt at a joke, however lame," winced Faith.
Matthieu smiled again and walked past her.
"Not too crowded tonight. Maybe you'll get off early," said Faith, picking up her beer again. Matthieu stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.
"Was that an attempt at an offer, however lame?"
Faith blinked, but only once.
"Maybe," she smiled. Faith fought the urge to watch his face to see his reaction and instead took a big gulp from her glass. When she did look back at him he had wandered over to one of the pool tables, talking to another one of the regulars. She didn't mind watching him. Especially when he didn't notice.
Matthieu was only a few inches taller than her and a little on the skinny side. But his love of sports gave his taut muscles definition and his skin was deeply tanned under his sweatshirt. He had cut off the sleeves. Surprisingly he didn't have an earring but his brown hair was tied off into a short ponytail that went just past the base of his neck. Faith was ashamed that when she went home after first meeting him she couldn't remember the color of his eyes. They were green. Envious of his tan, she hadn't even noticed.
Glancing back at Ed, Faith noticed that the guy at the end of the bar was still staring at her. She shook her head and concentrated on her beer. And then she noticed that Ed was walking over to her.
"Let me guess, George wants to buy me a beer," sighed Faith.
Ed only shrugged.
"Man just doesn't take a hint, does he?" complained Faith.
"You know his story," began Ed.
"Yeah, I've heard it a hundred times and not only from him."
"So, let him buy you a beer. What harm is there in that?" asked Ed.
"Feed a stray and it might just follow you home," countered Faith.
"Your call," replied Ed, trying not to smile.
"Fine. But I'm only doing this for you. Maybe you'll get a good tip. Besides, I was done with this one," added Faith, handing him the empty glass.
Ed did smile and poured her another beer. Faith nodded at George and mouthed the words 'thanks'. She was surprised to see him smile, nod in return...and then look away.
Faith decided to see how well Matthieu was at billiards.
*****
She had fallen asleep this time but once again Dawn was awake after only about an hour. She decided to get up and go to the bathroom, maybe get a glass of milk. Her mother had always told her there was something in milk that would help her sleep. Dawn didn't turn the hall light on so as not to wake either Willow or Tara. Their room was right across from hers. The one that once belonged to her mother. Buffy and her mom...she shook her head, now fully awake.
Dawn heard them talking and turned to walk away, more to avoid her own embarrassment rather than intrude on the two girl's privacy. But then she heard Willow raise her voice and couldn't help herself. She stopped to listen.
"Tara, we can't tell anyone else."
"But..."
"No. They wouldn't understand."
Silence. Dawn held her breath, worried that they might've heard her.
"Tell you what, if you think we're getting in too far over our heads or, or you're uncomfortable after we find out what's involved, I'll tell Giles. Okay?" asked Willow.
"Okay," repeated Tara, unconvinced.
"It doesn't seem too complicated for a thingy-that-goes-bump-in-the-night kind of thingy," reassured Willow. "And I thought you were the one who wanted this kept a secret."
"I did. But...getting into trouble is never hard, Willow. Not for us."
"You underestimate our witchy ways," answered Willow, causing Tara to giggle.
"Giles and Xander were involved in the enjoining spell. Don't you think contacting her would be easier if they were involved? I mean, you were, well...enjoined, ya know?" asked Tara.
Dawn fell back against the wall behind her, leaning against it to overcome the weakness in her knees. The wall's hardness comforted her and stopped the room from spinning.
"Yes, but that would involve telling them. Hence the no word. You think...you think Giles has anything with her blood on it? Not from when...but, well, even besides all the times she got beat up, there must've been some training sessions where she cut herself. It would be easier if..."
"And what do you propose to do, ask him?" interrupted Tara.
"No," whined Willow, her feelings obviously hurt.
"Oh, honey, let's not talk about it any more tonight. We just need that book and I know Giles has a copy of it at the shop. We'll get it tomorrow."
"Alright," pouted Willow as only she could.
"Hey, you. Slide on over here," laughed Tara.
Dawn saw the light under their door go out and her eyes grew wider than they already were. She quickly tiptoed away from the door.
*****
Faith banked the eight ball off the cushion and grinned as it dropped softly into the corner pocket. She slowly rolled her eyes over to Matthieu. He was shaking his head.
"You've done this before," he accused.
"I've done lots of things before. I just don't brag about 'em. Well, unless you ask," she teased.
A slow song began to play. Faith turned around to see George over by the jukebox. And he was looking at her through the haze of the ever present cigarette smoke that made the bar seem even darker than it was. Even worse, he was now walking towards her.
"Uh, Faith, maybe I should talk to..."
"I've got it," winked Faith as she placed the poolstick on top of the faded green felt of the table. She turned to face the approaching George. His walk was unsteady at best.
By now only Ed was left in the bar besides the three of them. And he was cleaning up, grateful to close a few minutes early tonight. The Dodgers had indeed lost.
"Faith, would you like to dance with me?" asked George. Faith was surprised by his politeness.
"George, it's getting late. And Ed wants to go home," she said sympathetically, nodding in Ed's direction.
"Well, I'm going to hear this song before I leave anyway. It's just one song. And...and I did buy ya that beer," grinned George. He was missing several teeth.
"And I appreciate that. But I was going to dance with Matthieu. Maybe some other time, okay?"
Faith turned, hoping George would give up. And then she felt his hand firmly grip her arm. He spun Faith around so that she faced him. He was stronger than she had thought but was only caught off guard by his action. She was in no way afraid of him.
"Tell ya what, how 'bout a goodnight kiss and we'll call it even...for tonight," he leered, looking down at her.
"How about you take your hand off me before I seriously hurt you," demanded Faith calmly. She sensed Matthieu moving around the pool table towards her. Even Ed had stopped what he was doing and was watching them.
"This is your last warning. Go outside, get on your hog and leave. Now!" warned Faith, calmly but firmly.
George only tightened his grip and smiled. He leaned in towards Faith's face.
"I'd rather get on you," he grinned.
"Have it your way," shrugged Faith.
Faith grabbed his wrist with her free hand and effortlessly but quickly forced George's arm up behind his back with a sickening wet snap. She pushed him away in disgust but he surprised her by spinning around and lashing out with a left hook. Faith caught his hand mid-punch and squeezed, being careful to apply just enough pressure to cause severe pain but not to break bone. He winced in agony but again surprised her by not crying out.
Dropping down into a spin kick, Faith's foot caught him in the side of the face. George was flung violently backwards and he thudded against the wall next to the jukebox, causing the record to skip. He didn't move.
Matthieu stood next to Faith, staring at George with his mouth open.
"You're not like other girls, are you Faith?" he asked without taking his eyes off of George.
"You have no idea," laughed Faith. Faith hesitated, then grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him to her, kissing him hard on the mouth. Teasing him with a guttural moan, she pulled away and winked.
"Guess that proves you're not a guy dressed in drag," smirked Matthieu, glancing again at George.
"What, you don't think these puppies are real?" said Faith, leaning forward to reveal some cleavage. "The name's Faith, not Lola."
Matthieu tilted his head and studied the girl in front of him. Ed went back to cleaning the bar.
"Not like other girls? Don't be so sure," smirked Matthieu. Very quickly he reached down and grabbed both of Faith's wrists, forcing them above her head as he pushed her back against the wall not far from George. He smiled ever so slightly and leaned in to kiss her. Faith closed her eyes and played along.
Matthieu kissed her so softly, so tenderly that Faith's eyes flew open in surprise. Letting go of her arms, he slid one hand around her waist and eased the other around her neck, the palm of his hand resting on the base of her neck. So gently did he pull her body to his that it took Faith a moment to realize that her arms were still raised above her head. She wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders, her eyes closing again as she lost herself in his embrace.
He reluctantly pulled away, gasping for breath. Faith slowly opened her eyes.
"Wow. That was...unexpected," whispered Faith.
"Hmm, not exactly the reaction I was looking for," said Matthieu, eyebrows raised.
"Oh, I didn't mean...it's just, it's just been so long since I've been touched...I mean kissed. Kissed like that," corrected Faith, somewhat embarrassed.
They stood looking at one another, suddenly not knowing what to say.
"Um, aren't you forgetting something?" asked Faith.
"Huh?"
"We were going to dance," said Faith, closing the distance between them again. "Wouldn't want to make a liar out of me now, would you?"
"Oh! No. No, of course not," smiled Matthieu.
Faith smiled back and pressed her cheek against his chest. He responded by hugging her tighter. They swayed back and forth, barely moving. Too soon Matthieu spoke up.
"Faith?"
"Mmm?"
"The music stopped. A few minutes ago."
"Oh. Hadn't noticed," lied Faith poorly but with a smile.
Matthieu stood still and Faith hesitatingly looked up at him.
"Want to go for a ride?" he asked. Faith frowned.
"Okay, maybe not so unexpected after all."
Matthieu laughed and held up one finger. He turned and knelt down behind the pool table. When he stood he handed Faith a motorcycle helmet.
"Oh," nodded Faith, rolling her eyes.
Matthieu smiled.
"Sure. Um, sorry about the mess," said Faith, nodding towards George. "Didn't mean to be doing your job."
"Not a problem. I like a girl who can take care of herself. And Ed will see that George gets home."
"What's his story anyway?," asked Faith.
"George? He's usually harmless. Vietnam vet, drinks too much...has his own demons to deal with," sighed Matthieu.
"Yeah, I know what that's like," answered Faith distantly.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," said Faith, shaking her head. "Ready to go?"
Matthieu held out his hand. Faith only hesitated because she was surprised. She slipped her hand into his, trying not to smile.
*****
Matthieu cut the engine and booted the kickstand into place.
"Is this the place?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Yeah," nodded Faith, suddenly realizing that her arms were still wrapped around his waist. She let go both awkwardly and reluctantly. Matthieu stood, stepping over the bike and extending his forearm to help Faith up.
"I'm impressed. A gentleman!" smiled Faith. Matthieu's only response was to wink at her.
"That's a big house for just you and your niece," said Matthieu.
"Never seemed too big before. See, uh, her mom and her big sis both passed away this year," explained Faith.
"Oh wow!" grimaced Matthieu.
"Yeah," frowned Faith. "A friend of mine became her legal guardian and lives here too. With her girlfriend."
"That's nice," nodded Matthieu.
"It helps. Makes the place seem...smaller, you know?" asked Faith, not expecting an answer. The fact that he didn't even blink when she mentioned Willow's girlfriend only raised Faith's estimation of Matthieu even higher.
"So...I gotta get in, get breakfast started," said Faith.
"Sure you don't want to take her out to a diner instead?" asked Matthieu.
"No, like I said before, I'm not much of a morning person. And Dawn would sleep 'til noon if I didn't harass her," said Faith as she pulled off the helmet. "She has summer school. Needed to make up...well, with two funerals just months apart, you can imagine..."
"No, I don't think I can," interrupted Matthieu. Faith nodded gratefully.
"I had a great time. Thanks," smiled Faith.
"Me too."
Matthieu leaned in and closed his eyes. Faith nervously glanced at the sky and was again moved by how passionately gentle his lips were on hers. He pulled away and she held out her helmet to him.
"Nah, you keep it. Might need it again soon," he smiled.
"You mean you won't be picking up any more riders before I see you again?" Faith asked, both teasingly and hopefully.
"Not a chance."
No doubt about it, Faith was getting to like his smile more every time she saw it. Matthieu walked back to his bike and Faith ran to the front door, digging out her key from her front pocket along the way. The motorcycle had started behind her but she didn't turn around until she had crossed the threshold. She turned and waved good-bye. Matthieu nodded and drove off.
Faith shut the door. And smiled. She knew Willow was in the kitchen even before she smelled the coffee.
"Hey," smiled Faith.
"Cutting it a little close, aren't you?" asked Willow, glancing at the clock while sipping from her mug.
"Oh yeah. I, uh, kinda lost track of time."
Willow smiled.
"He's cute. For a guy, that is," added Willow.
Faith laughed.
"Wow, I haven't heard you laugh in a long time! He must be something, this Matthieu," said Willow, suddenly staring at the helmet in Faith's hands. Faith noticed and put it down on the table.
"Oh, he is," agreed Faith, smiling and not looking at Willow.
Willow's expression became serious.
"Does...does he know?" she asked timidly.
Faith shrugged as she pulled a chair out and sat down.
"Want some coffee?" asked Willow, mad at herself for asking such a stupid question. "Or, or do you think it will keep you up?"
"If I don't fall asleep right away it won't be because of caffeine," answered Faith, grinning. "But no, thanks anyway."
"How about your usual from the fridge? I'll get it," offered Willow, still trying to change the subject.
"Nah. Willow, he's got to sense something ain't right here, don't cha think?" asked Faith.
Willow sat down in the chair next to Faith and put her mug on the table.
"You've got a crush on him! I'm becoming a little more impressed with this Matthieu. So, is he a good kisser?" teased Willow.
"You were spying on us!" accused Faith.
"Uh, no. You're lipstick is all smudged."
"Oh."
And now Willow laughed.
"Faith...Faith, what can I say? I went out with a werewolf. These things tend to work out. Um, well...okay, if they're meant to, I mean."
Faith didn't look convinced.
"Maybe you could tell him about Tara and me. How, when you find someone special, that, um...their...orientation doesn't matter."
"Willow, I'm dead. That's not a lifestyle choice."
"Um, well...there's that," agreed Willow, pouting.
"Oh, who am I kidding here? This is never going to work. It's just...it's just another part of the total package," said Faith, trying unsuccessfully to sigh.
"Package?" repeated Willow.
"You know. Payback. My punishment for..."
"No."
"Willow, you don't..."
"No!" snapped Willow emphatically.
"But..."
Willow silenced her with a glare. Faith crossed her arms and pouted.
"I'm not letting you set one foot down that road again," said Willow.
Faith looked at her and looked away. But she wasn't pouting anymore. Willow smiled. And kept smiling.
"What?" said Faith, finally unable to ignore her grin.
"Still didn't tell me how he was as a kisser," whined Willow.
Faith tried hard not to smile.
"Come on, give me a number or something! What is he, a seven? An eight?"
Faith hid her smile with her hand.
"Oh, puhlease! You liar! You haven't kissed him enough to rate him higher than that!"
Faith didn't answer but she didn't stop smiling.
"Thanks, Willow," whispered Faith. "Thanks."
Willow leaned over and they hugged.
"I'm happy for you. Just...go slow. I don't want to see you hurt," answered Willow into her ear. And then she felt Faith's body stiffen.
"Morning, Tara!" said Faith, a little louder than she meant to. Willow pulled away and smiled at Tara. She was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, blinking her eyes as if she just got up.
"Morning, hon. I'm sorry, did we wake you?" asked Willow as she stood.
"No. And hey, don't I get a good morning kiss?" pouted Tara.
"Oh, no, Tara, we weren't..."
Willow ignored Faith's protest and greeted Tara with a kiss and a hug.
"Is there coffee?" asked Tara.
"Um, sure, but don't you want tea?" asked Willow, scrunching her eyebrows together.
Tara walked past her and opened a cupboard, taking out a mug. With her back to them, Faith mouthed the word 'shit' to Willow but Willow only shrugged and smiled.
"No, I didn't sleep much last night. I need caffeine and lots of it," said Tara.
"What are you two doing up so early anyway?" asked Faith.
Both girls glanced warily at each other. Tara avoided looking at Faith altogether.
"Oh, we, uh...decided it was time to get back on our broomsticks and start fooling around again," nodded Willow. Tara tilted her head at her; Faith raised her eyebrows.
"With doing spells. Together, I mean. We've been neglecting...well, it's been a while," explained Willow.
Faith didn't change her expression.
"Sorry. Didn't know you were having trouble...doing spells. Together," added Faith.
"Oh! No, see, we, we need to do some research first, hit the books, round up some ingredients..."
"For the spells," added Tara.
"Right," agreed Willow enthusiastically.
"Okay...uh, I was going to make pancakes for Dawnie. You guys hungry? I could just double the recipe," offered Faith.
"No, that's...," said both girls at once.
"I'm not hungry yet," said Tara.
"And we've got to get to the Magic Box," said Willow.
"Giles doesn't open until ten. You don't like my cooking!" accused Faith suspiciously.
"Don't be ridiculous!" protested Willow. "We love your cooking."
"Right. What she said," nodded Tara.
Faith looked at Willow and then at Tara. She smiled and shook her head.
"In fact, why don't I make breakfast for her today? You must be tired, Faith. Why not call it a night...er, day, I mean. Hmm, what do you call it?" muttered Willow to herself.
Faith was going to argue but saw that Willow was hinting with her eyes towards Tara. Faith caught on and gathered that Willow needed some alone time with her girl.
"Um, sure. Thanks, I am beat," nodded Faith.
"Oh, and Faith? About Matthieu. Maybe...what I mean is, taking things slow, it just isn't you. So...maybe you should tell him, you know? Being honest is always best," said Willow, looking directly at Tara. Tara visibly blushed. "Before..."
Faith interrupted Willow and she seemed grateful for it.
"Thanks. Maybe you're right. Goodnight," said Faith.
"Goodnight," responded Tara quickly, as if hurrying her along.
Faith looked at her but quickly looked back at Willow.
"Goodnight," said Willow, before the silence grew awkward.
Faith nodded and left. Tara didn't look at Willow. Instead she turned around and poured herself a cup of coffee. Willow's first instinct was to walk over to her and put her arm around her. Instead she let out a shallow sigh.
"What?" demanded Tara without turning around.
"Nothing," snapped Willow. And now Tara did turn around, putting her cup down on the counter.
"No, just say it," said Tara.
"Okay, fine! Why does it have to be like this with you two? It's always just so, so tense. And she's trying, ya know? You could at least meet her half way," added Willow, lowering her voice.
"Pfft!"
Willow put her hands on her hips and glared at Tara.
"It doesn't bother you that she's in her room? I mean, there's even a photo of Buffy by her bed. It's, it's just...wrong somehow," whined Tara.
"I have a photo of Buffy by our bed. Is that wrong? And we're in Joyce's bed!"
"That's different. It's...been longer," answered Tara.
What do you want me to do, throw her out onto the street?" asked Willow rhetorically.
"Never seemed to bother her before," replied Tara but lowering her gaze.
"Tara!"
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Nor did they look at one another.
"Anything else?" asked Willow softly, desperately hoping this old argument was over. Tara hesitated, crossing her arms.
"Is it...do you think the others notice too?" winced Tara.
"What? I don't..."
"Faith said...about doing spells. Together," whispered Tara. "Do the others..."
"Oh, honey. No. She didn't mean..."
"Yes, she did. Willow, you hold me, but you don't touch me. How can you lie with me and not...don't you...don't you want me anymore? Did I do something wr-wrong?" asked Tara, her voice strained.
"Oh, Tara! You know it's not you."
Willow quickly walked over to Tara and hugged her but Tara kept her arms crossed. She pressed her nose to Tara's, fighting back tears.
"I'm sorry. You know I would never hurt you. It's just...I'll try. Soon. I promise," said Willow. She kissed her and Tara nodded, releasing her arms and returning her hug.
"No, I'm sorry. I know you're not...it's me, I shouldn't have even brought it up," sighed Tara.
"Shh," breathed Willow, hugging her tighter.
Just then Dawn walked into the kitchen. From the living room.
"Dawn! I thought you were still sleeping," said Willow, releasing Tara. Tara turned to look at her as well, just as confused.
"I was," replied Dawn.
"But..."
"I fell asleep on the couch last night," explained Dawn.
"You didn't feel good?" asked Tara.
"No, I, I just didn't want to sleep in my room last night," shrugged Dawn, not making eye contact with either of them.
"Oh. Hey, I'm going to make breakfast today. You up for pancakes?" asked Willow.
Dawn ignored her and walked over to the kitchen entrance, looking up at the stairs where Faith had gone. Willow frowned and glanced at Tara. Dawn turned around so fast that she startled Willow.
"I'm in," announced Dawn, her face cold and determined.
"Um...what?" managed Willow.
"Whatever you two are up to. So, what is it? Spell? Seance? Doesn't matter, you need me. I'm in even if you don't," glared Dawn.
"Dawn, I'm not sure...," began Tara.
"I heard you talking last night! I'm sorry, I, I wasn't eavesdropping. Really, I wasn't. I didn't mean to...I was just walking past your door, and..."
Dawn wasn't as confident as she was a moment ago. She looked down, suddenly very upset. Willow and Tara looked at one another, regret in Willow's eyes, fear in Tara's. Willow closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
"Didn't you say it would be easier if you had Buf...her blood? You did, right?" whispered Dawn. Willow looked up and slowly nodded.
"Okay, then. I think we all know that my blood is the same as hers, don't we? I mean, she kinda proved that when..."
Dawn choked back her tears as Willow held out her arms to her. Dawn didn't run but she moved quickly into her embrace. Tara bit her lower lip and shook her head but Willow didn't notice.
"So...what do we have to do?" sniffed Dawn.
END OF PART TWO