Chapter 6: Waning Gibbous
"What are you doing up already?" yawned the redhead from the couch.
"Oh. Hi Willow. You didn't sleep down here, did you?" Dawn frowned.
"Not yet. I wasn't tired yet. I think its' jetlag. But now I'm exhausted. Is the squire still in bed?" she shifted up to a sitting position.
"Yeah. And snoring her head off. I didn't think someone who didn't talk could make so much noise. That's why I'm up already. After a while I just couldn't go back to sleep. Besides, the best cartoons are on this early in the morning." The girl went into the kitchen and Willow heard the sounds of cupboards opening and shutting, the pouring of cereal, and immediately felt her throat get tight. She took a deep breath to soothe herself.
"Uh, Dawnie? Is it okay if we talk a minute?" she called.
"Um, yeah." The brunette's face appeared from the doorway. "Is this THE talk?"
"Oh, if you don't want to talk about..."
"No, it's okay. We can do it now. Nobody else is around. I guess its' all right." Dawn plopped herself on the other end of the couch, bowl of sugary cereal in hand. "I don't really know how to do this, though. Giles said you had to do this thing where you talked to everyone you...um.."
"Hurt. Yeah. I'm supposed to make amends. Its' a twelve-step thing, but I'm doing it more because I want to." she paused, taking another deep breath. "I did a horrible thing to you. I can't believe I threatened to..."
Dawn shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and increased the rate of her cereal eating.
"I don't remember it well." Willow went on, " No, that's not right. I remember it like it just happened, but its' like it was a bad movie, and I was this cheesy villain. It didn't feel real."
"Felt real to me." the girl said softly. "I thought I was gonna die. You were gonna...absorb me."
"I can't apologize in the right way, or enough. I can't, but I'm trying to. I don't expect you to forgive me. I just remember that look in your eyes and I want to die."
"What look?" Dawn asked.
"You looked scared. And sometimes when I think about it, I remember you like when you were little instead of being how old you were at the time. Like a little kid, and I was this horrible monster..." Her hands began to shake and the tears began to flood down her face.
"I love you, Willow." the teenager said suddenly, looking surprised at her own words.
"No. No. I don't deserve that right now. No." the redhead hiccuped. "I did bad things. Horrible things. You shouldn't be saying that to me."
"But I do. And I admit, I'm still scared of you. But I still love you. I loved her too. And it's so crap, all of it....I don't know what I'm saying anymore..." Dawn sighed.
"One day at a time. That's what they say in therapy. That's how we're supposed to get through this. Do you get it?"
"Yeah. I think so."
The two sat in silence for a moment.
"Hey, did Buffy come home last night?" the girl asked.
Willow paused, then shook her head worriedly.
***
'No going back now.' Spike thought to himself as he stared down at the bundle of chains at his feet. They were the strongest he could find, attatched to heavy cement blocks each adjacent to deep holes in the grave dirt. He saw the sky in the east beside the crypt begin to lighten, knelt, and began to rummage through the pile of links. He pulled forth several cuffs, and fastened one, the widest, around his neck. As he reached about to his left for a wrist cuff, he saw a female hand already holding it out to him.
"Is this what you wanted?" Buffy asked.
The vampire wouldn't look up or say anything, but slowly took the cuff hanging from her fingers. He quickly fastened it to his left arm.
"Well, I wanted to see if what I heard was true, and I guess it is, isn't it?"
"Well, that depends on what you heard." replied Spike as he reached for a leg cuff and found that the slayer was now holding it out to him as well. He put out his left leg in front of him and set the metal around his ankle. He turned to grab the next one, but Buffy was ahead of him once again, but this time the last two cuffs swung from her hand. Finally, the vampire looked up at her.
"Well, I heard you were taking the easy way out, and thought I needed to see it for myself. I also heard it was because you have a soul."
"Clem should be minding his own business, I think." Spike grabbed the cuffs and began to fasten his other foot.
"So, what's this about, Spike? Can't take the heat now that you can feel remorse?" the slayer began to walk about until she was facing him. The same direction that the sun was rising from.
"Fitting that you'll be the last thing I see as the sun comes up." he laughed, putting on the last cuff. Then, he kicked at the two cement blocks near his ankles, which plummetted down the holes he'd created. His legs jerked back and apart violently, and he winced. "Well, if you really want to know, Goldilocks," He shoved a block near his head, which abruptly brought his head low. He pushed out the last two blocks, and now he lay stretched out, his face to the sky and his body barely hovering above ground. "I think what I figured out the night I left was that a vamp can only betray his nature for so long, or else he starts to get a little fucked up in the head. When I did...what I tried to do...it wasn't something vampires do, love. We don't rape. That's strictly a human crime. An unmanly crime at that."
"Get to the point." Buffy said, unable to hide the hurt in her face.
"So I went to this bloke who I heard could give me what I wanted. And honestly, all I wanted was to come back and rip your head off. To act like a dignified vamp again and not some...I wanted to do it right. Of course, I was so bloody delerious when I finally passed the tests that I wasn't specific enough in my request and wound up with a soul." He laughed. "And frankly, I don't give a damn if you think this is cowardice. I'm tired of being the laughingstock of the vampire world, even more so now."
"You're not the only one who's been through this. You can learn to live.." she began
"What?! Like the bloody Poofter? Sorry, Slayer, but just because I have a conscience doesn't mean that I'm gonna walk around all broodish and whining like a git all the time. I'd rather go out all dignified and all."
"This isn't dignified, Spike." Buffy said. "In fact, this is the least dignified looking suicide plan I've ever seen. You had to tie yourself completely down so you couldn't escape. If you really wanted to look courageous, you'd have done it without the chains." The woman knelt down and looked down into his face. "I know this isn't what you want. And I hate the idea of making you stop killing yourself, but I think I have to. If you do have a soul, that means you can make amends, and you deserve a chance to do that. And we both know you're nothing like him, so get over yourself. So, you still planning to get cooked or do you want up?"
Spike ran his tongue over his teeth nervously, and shut his eyes to try to keep the tears that were coming from spilling out, but it was pretty futile. "L...let me up, then." he gulped, angrily fighting the guilt and shame washing over him again, feelings he knew wouldn't leave him for a long time.
"Dierdre! Could you come over here, please?" the slayer called out. 'Who the hell is Dierdre?', the vamp thought. Suddenly, he felt each chain grow loose one at a time except for the one at his neck. He opened his eyes and looked about. A very interesting woman was standing next to Buffy with a very large, and obviously enchanted sword.
"I can't reach the last one without taking off his head." the knight said. "Unless that's what you want..."
"No." said Buffy. She walked over and leant over Spike's face. "Well!" he said jokingly as her chest leaned towards him.
"Shut up." she grumbled, as she grabbed behind his head at the chain and began to pull. He didn't understand at first, but did as she asked, and as soon as there was enough room to aim, Dierdre swung the sword once more. The vampire grunted as the weight finally came off, and Buffy fell backwards when the chain was severed. Spike looked over at the slayer nervously as she got to her feet, and pulled him up to his. "We'd better get inside quick," Buffy said, "Or else this was just a big old waste of our time."
***
Anya stood at the counter, a pen lazily hanging from her fingers. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop. She'd gone through every last bit of the books, counted the money in the register at least ten times. She'd even counted all the donkey eyes in the jar, part of last night's shipment. Still, her eyes kept going back to Xander. Xander, who's muscles shone with a thin layer of sweat. Xander, who was hammering the boards together with an even and strong hand. The suggestiveness of this whole scenario was pretty clear to the vengeance demon, whose eyes began to glaze over despite herself.
The man stopped suddenly and got to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, and let out a heavy sigh. He turned to the girl at the counter, and a look crossed his face for a second.
'Oh crap. He knows.' Anya quickly composed herself, putting her best 'I'm so disgusted with you.' look on her face.
"Hey, Anya. You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Why?" she replied snarkily.
"It's just...what's wrong with your nose? It's doing some sort of...twitchy thing."
"Twitchy thing?" Anya acted oblivious, but was slapping herself in the forehead mentally.
"Yeah. Like something smells funny. I put on enough deoderant, right?" The man lifted an arm and sniffed.
"Uh....just...donkey eyes. Yeah, donkey eyes! That, um, formaldehyde really irritates my nasal cavities. Yep. That's right."
"Riiight." Xander laughed.
"What?!" Anya's composure broke, and her voice was shrill.
"You know what's happening." He made deliberate eye contact.
Her knees grew weak, but she would not fail. "What? What's happening?"
"We've been working around each other for the past while. For the first bit, you were biting my head off every chance you got, and now you've been staring at me for almost two hours." he answered.
"I have not." she said indignantly.
"You have so, and you know what I think?" Xander walked right up to the counter, keeping his eyes on hers. He couldn't believe he was holding up this well. No awkwardness, no stuttering.
"What?" Anya gulped, as his face was now directly across the counter from her.
"I think you want me."
At those words, the woman's face was aflame, but she forced out a phony laugh. "Me? Want you? HA! That's what I think of this you want me thing. HA! It's a funny thing you're saying, because..."
Suddenly the man grabbed her by the arms, and her eyes widened in shock. For a moment, the two stared at one another, him looking as if he were fighting the urge to do something, and she as if she were about to faint.
But then, the front door opened, and Giles stepped in with an armful of books. "I believe I may have found something useful." he said.
The two unhanded each other, and made an obvious attempt at trying to cover something up.
"Is everything all right?" the Englishman asked.
Xander looked like a deer in the headlights, but Anya suddenly exclaimed "67!"
"I'm sorry. What?" Giles asked, puzzled.
"Donkey eyes..." Anya stuttered "Yep...we have 67 donkey eyes in that jar." She patted the lid gently.
"Right." Giles said, cleaning his glasses.
"What are you doing up already?" yawned the redhead from the couch.
"Oh. Hi Willow. You didn't sleep down here, did you?" Dawn frowned.
"Not yet. I wasn't tired yet. I think its' jetlag. But now I'm exhausted. Is the squire still in bed?" she shifted up to a sitting position.
"Yeah. And snoring her head off. I didn't think someone who didn't talk could make so much noise. That's why I'm up already. After a while I just couldn't go back to sleep. Besides, the best cartoons are on this early in the morning." The girl went into the kitchen and Willow heard the sounds of cupboards opening and shutting, the pouring of cereal, and immediately felt her throat get tight. She took a deep breath to soothe herself.
"Uh, Dawnie? Is it okay if we talk a minute?" she called.
"Um, yeah." The brunette's face appeared from the doorway. "Is this THE talk?"
"Oh, if you don't want to talk about..."
"No, it's okay. We can do it now. Nobody else is around. I guess its' all right." Dawn plopped herself on the other end of the couch, bowl of sugary cereal in hand. "I don't really know how to do this, though. Giles said you had to do this thing where you talked to everyone you...um.."
"Hurt. Yeah. I'm supposed to make amends. Its' a twelve-step thing, but I'm doing it more because I want to." she paused, taking another deep breath. "I did a horrible thing to you. I can't believe I threatened to..."
Dawn shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and increased the rate of her cereal eating.
"I don't remember it well." Willow went on, " No, that's not right. I remember it like it just happened, but its' like it was a bad movie, and I was this cheesy villain. It didn't feel real."
"Felt real to me." the girl said softly. "I thought I was gonna die. You were gonna...absorb me."
"I can't apologize in the right way, or enough. I can't, but I'm trying to. I don't expect you to forgive me. I just remember that look in your eyes and I want to die."
"What look?" Dawn asked.
"You looked scared. And sometimes when I think about it, I remember you like when you were little instead of being how old you were at the time. Like a little kid, and I was this horrible monster..." Her hands began to shake and the tears began to flood down her face.
"I love you, Willow." the teenager said suddenly, looking surprised at her own words.
"No. No. I don't deserve that right now. No." the redhead hiccuped. "I did bad things. Horrible things. You shouldn't be saying that to me."
"But I do. And I admit, I'm still scared of you. But I still love you. I loved her too. And it's so crap, all of it....I don't know what I'm saying anymore..." Dawn sighed.
"One day at a time. That's what they say in therapy. That's how we're supposed to get through this. Do you get it?"
"Yeah. I think so."
The two sat in silence for a moment.
"Hey, did Buffy come home last night?" the girl asked.
Willow paused, then shook her head worriedly.
***
'No going back now.' Spike thought to himself as he stared down at the bundle of chains at his feet. They were the strongest he could find, attatched to heavy cement blocks each adjacent to deep holes in the grave dirt. He saw the sky in the east beside the crypt begin to lighten, knelt, and began to rummage through the pile of links. He pulled forth several cuffs, and fastened one, the widest, around his neck. As he reached about to his left for a wrist cuff, he saw a female hand already holding it out to him.
"Is this what you wanted?" Buffy asked.
The vampire wouldn't look up or say anything, but slowly took the cuff hanging from her fingers. He quickly fastened it to his left arm.
"Well, I wanted to see if what I heard was true, and I guess it is, isn't it?"
"Well, that depends on what you heard." replied Spike as he reached for a leg cuff and found that the slayer was now holding it out to him as well. He put out his left leg in front of him and set the metal around his ankle. He turned to grab the next one, but Buffy was ahead of him once again, but this time the last two cuffs swung from her hand. Finally, the vampire looked up at her.
"Well, I heard you were taking the easy way out, and thought I needed to see it for myself. I also heard it was because you have a soul."
"Clem should be minding his own business, I think." Spike grabbed the cuffs and began to fasten his other foot.
"So, what's this about, Spike? Can't take the heat now that you can feel remorse?" the slayer began to walk about until she was facing him. The same direction that the sun was rising from.
"Fitting that you'll be the last thing I see as the sun comes up." he laughed, putting on the last cuff. Then, he kicked at the two cement blocks near his ankles, which plummetted down the holes he'd created. His legs jerked back and apart violently, and he winced. "Well, if you really want to know, Goldilocks," He shoved a block near his head, which abruptly brought his head low. He pushed out the last two blocks, and now he lay stretched out, his face to the sky and his body barely hovering above ground. "I think what I figured out the night I left was that a vamp can only betray his nature for so long, or else he starts to get a little fucked up in the head. When I did...what I tried to do...it wasn't something vampires do, love. We don't rape. That's strictly a human crime. An unmanly crime at that."
"Get to the point." Buffy said, unable to hide the hurt in her face.
"So I went to this bloke who I heard could give me what I wanted. And honestly, all I wanted was to come back and rip your head off. To act like a dignified vamp again and not some...I wanted to do it right. Of course, I was so bloody delerious when I finally passed the tests that I wasn't specific enough in my request and wound up with a soul." He laughed. "And frankly, I don't give a damn if you think this is cowardice. I'm tired of being the laughingstock of the vampire world, even more so now."
"You're not the only one who's been through this. You can learn to live.." she began
"What?! Like the bloody Poofter? Sorry, Slayer, but just because I have a conscience doesn't mean that I'm gonna walk around all broodish and whining like a git all the time. I'd rather go out all dignified and all."
"This isn't dignified, Spike." Buffy said. "In fact, this is the least dignified looking suicide plan I've ever seen. You had to tie yourself completely down so you couldn't escape. If you really wanted to look courageous, you'd have done it without the chains." The woman knelt down and looked down into his face. "I know this isn't what you want. And I hate the idea of making you stop killing yourself, but I think I have to. If you do have a soul, that means you can make amends, and you deserve a chance to do that. And we both know you're nothing like him, so get over yourself. So, you still planning to get cooked or do you want up?"
Spike ran his tongue over his teeth nervously, and shut his eyes to try to keep the tears that were coming from spilling out, but it was pretty futile. "L...let me up, then." he gulped, angrily fighting the guilt and shame washing over him again, feelings he knew wouldn't leave him for a long time.
"Dierdre! Could you come over here, please?" the slayer called out. 'Who the hell is Dierdre?', the vamp thought. Suddenly, he felt each chain grow loose one at a time except for the one at his neck. He opened his eyes and looked about. A very interesting woman was standing next to Buffy with a very large, and obviously enchanted sword.
"I can't reach the last one without taking off his head." the knight said. "Unless that's what you want..."
"No." said Buffy. She walked over and leant over Spike's face. "Well!" he said jokingly as her chest leaned towards him.
"Shut up." she grumbled, as she grabbed behind his head at the chain and began to pull. He didn't understand at first, but did as she asked, and as soon as there was enough room to aim, Dierdre swung the sword once more. The vampire grunted as the weight finally came off, and Buffy fell backwards when the chain was severed. Spike looked over at the slayer nervously as she got to her feet, and pulled him up to his. "We'd better get inside quick," Buffy said, "Or else this was just a big old waste of our time."
***
Anya stood at the counter, a pen lazily hanging from her fingers. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop. She'd gone through every last bit of the books, counted the money in the register at least ten times. She'd even counted all the donkey eyes in the jar, part of last night's shipment. Still, her eyes kept going back to Xander. Xander, who's muscles shone with a thin layer of sweat. Xander, who was hammering the boards together with an even and strong hand. The suggestiveness of this whole scenario was pretty clear to the vengeance demon, whose eyes began to glaze over despite herself.
The man stopped suddenly and got to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm, and let out a heavy sigh. He turned to the girl at the counter, and a look crossed his face for a second.
'Oh crap. He knows.' Anya quickly composed herself, putting her best 'I'm so disgusted with you.' look on her face.
"Hey, Anya. You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Why?" she replied snarkily.
"It's just...what's wrong with your nose? It's doing some sort of...twitchy thing."
"Twitchy thing?" Anya acted oblivious, but was slapping herself in the forehead mentally.
"Yeah. Like something smells funny. I put on enough deoderant, right?" The man lifted an arm and sniffed.
"Uh....just...donkey eyes. Yeah, donkey eyes! That, um, formaldehyde really irritates my nasal cavities. Yep. That's right."
"Riiight." Xander laughed.
"What?!" Anya's composure broke, and her voice was shrill.
"You know what's happening." He made deliberate eye contact.
Her knees grew weak, but she would not fail. "What? What's happening?"
"We've been working around each other for the past while. For the first bit, you were biting my head off every chance you got, and now you've been staring at me for almost two hours." he answered.
"I have not." she said indignantly.
"You have so, and you know what I think?" Xander walked right up to the counter, keeping his eyes on hers. He couldn't believe he was holding up this well. No awkwardness, no stuttering.
"What?" Anya gulped, as his face was now directly across the counter from her.
"I think you want me."
At those words, the woman's face was aflame, but she forced out a phony laugh. "Me? Want you? HA! That's what I think of this you want me thing. HA! It's a funny thing you're saying, because..."
Suddenly the man grabbed her by the arms, and her eyes widened in shock. For a moment, the two stared at one another, him looking as if he were fighting the urge to do something, and she as if she were about to faint.
But then, the front door opened, and Giles stepped in with an armful of books. "I believe I may have found something useful." he said.
The two unhanded each other, and made an obvious attempt at trying to cover something up.
"Is everything all right?" the Englishman asked.
Xander looked like a deer in the headlights, but Anya suddenly exclaimed "67!"
"I'm sorry. What?" Giles asked, puzzled.
"Donkey eyes..." Anya stuttered "Yep...we have 67 donkey eyes in that jar." She patted the lid gently.
"Right." Giles said, cleaning his glasses.