Three: PROTECT
Willow was coming home.
Earlier in the week, she'd called to say that she was finally ready to leave England and make her way back to Sunnydale. She had asked Buffy to meet her at the airport. Buffy had filled her in a bit on Spike: his coming back and being human, but chose not to tell Willow the news of their engagement or of his living at the house. Although Giles and Xander had taken the news well enough, Buffy wanted to wait with Willow; she didn't want her friend to feel like she'd been pushed out of her home --- she had enough with which to deal.
Buffy moved Spike's things into her own room --- which seemed only practical, she convinced herself, considering he'd spent most of his nights there anyway. It wasn't much of a chore, really. Although now a working man bringing home a reasonable wage, Spike still didn't have many clothes --- and still wasn't big on colour. (Both points which, at that time, Buffy thought she should rectify.) She collected the few books piled on the nightstand in the master bedroom which Spike read when he couldn't get back to sleep but didn't want to wake her. On those nights, he'd slip out of Buffy's room quietly and read until he dozed off on Willow's bed.
And there was the lock box. Buffy hadn't actually seen it since the afternoon he'd snuck it home under his arm shortly after his return to Sunnydale. She knew that was where he'd kept his mother's ring before giving it to her. Though her curiosity as to what else might be in that box was strong, to her credit, Buffy never opened it not even for a peak. Trust is a two-way street, she noted as she held the box before tucking it under his side of her bed and making a mental note to tell him where it was so that he could move it if he felt the need.
The night prior to Willow's much-anticipated arrival, Buffy made a point of freshening up her friend's bedroom giving it a thorough dusting and putting crisp clean sheets on the bed. Finally, before leaving for the airport, she set a small bouquet of flowers on the nightstand.
------- o -------
Buffy had cancelled her afternoon client sessions, and found a replacement instructor for her aerobics class so that she could leave work early to meet her friend. She was thrilled to finally be able to welcome Willow home.
As she waited at the airport, Buffy imagined what it might be like to have Willow back. They'd been so close once... in high school. Willow was completely unlike the stylish, shallow friends Buffy had had at her schools in L.A., but something about the shy bookish red-head with the love of learning told Buffy that they were meant to be close. And they were... back then.
What had happened to us, Will? What happened to our friendship? Maybe it was as Giles had said, that the burden of her Calling had "interfered". Maybe it was the strain of coming back from the grave, with Willow being the one most responsible for her return. Maybe it was simply the natural progression of life... getting older... changing interests. growing apart. The reason didn't really matter; Buffy just hoped they could be close again.
When Willow came out of the passenger gate, she wasn't at all like Buffy remembered. She looked 'shell-shocked'; tired and frail. Her hair was a dull red. Her skin was ashen, practically transparent with dark circles under her almost-vacant green eyes. And she was deathly thin. Clearly the past months and the magicks had taken their toll on her poor friend. Buffy committed to taking things slowly --- remembering how difficult her own return to Sunnydale had been little more than a year earlier. Hard to believe it was just last year.
"Hey Will," she welcomed, smiling affectionately, open arms offering a much-needed hug.
Setting down her carry-on bag and approaching the awaiting arms, Willow appeared relieved that her trip was almost over and happy to see a friendly face. She seemed comforted in the forgiving embrace of her dear friend. Perhaps their friendship could give Willow the strength to get through the strain of her return.
------- o -------
The two young women drove back to the Summers' house on Revello Drive with few words between them. Buffy realized that her friend was exhausted from her trip (or from her life over the past several months, Buffy couldn't discern which). She empathized with Willow and the challenging weeks she'd have ahead reacclimatizing herself in Sunnydale.
"Mind if I put on some music?" asked Buffy. She put some quiet tunes on the radio in the hopes of putting Willow at ease and alleviating the pressure of the uncomfortable silence.
Willow smiled thankfully and shut her eyes.
------- o -------
As they pulled into the driveway, Willow's eyes popped open and she seemed to become agitated. She hadn't actually been back to the house since she'd left Tara's body to seek out evil murderous Warren, not even to pack a bag for England.
Tara and Willow had lived beyond that front door. Loved there. Laughed. Cried. Argued. Would that she could go back there? Home. But that warm wonderful world was gone, lost forever to a stray bullet. This was the place where her beautiful gentle 'Baby' bled out in her arms, literally shot down in the prime of her life... just when they'd reconciled. Tara; if only they'd stayed in bed.
But soon, Willow was crossing the threshold and standing in the foyer.
All was quiet when they entered the house. Spike was at work and Dawn at school. Buffy was glad for the peace because Willow would have been overwhelmed had there been a lot of people around when she arrived. Later, they could celebrate her return, but for now Buffy wanted Willow to be comfortable.
"Would you like a drink? Something to eat maybe?"
Willow gave a meek smile and shook her head. "No thanks, Buffy. I'm fine."
"Do you want to lie down? I mean, it was such a long trip; you must be tired," Buffy noted. "Why don't I take your bags up to your room. Then you can settle in a bit, have a nap while I get dinner ready. I know, kinda scary, me cooking, but..." Buffy joked, brightening Willow's smile slightly. Carrying Willow's bags, Buffy started up the stairs. "Dawn'll be home soon. She's really anxious to see you, so maybe you should get some rest while you still can."
When they reached the master bedroom, Buffy set the bags down. Watching Willow studying the room, Buffy wondered what Dawn must have seen in her face the night she'd returned from the grave and toured that same room. She remembered thinking the room that had been her mother's was so different: her mother's things gone and Willow and Tara's in their place. It was important to Buffy that the room be as close to the way Willow had left it as possible --- except for the carpet, which had been replaced because of the ghastly bloodstain left behind by Tara's tragic death.
Suddenly, Willow turned and bolted; Buffy followed her to where she'd stopped on the stairs.
"Buffy... I can't stay in that room," sobbed Willow. "I just can't. Oh God, Tara... It's too hard."
Buffy couldn't deny that she'd thought of taking over the master bedroom before, but she didn't want to force Willow out. The fact that Willow didn't want the room made things so much easier. "Will, you're welcome to have my room if you want. We'd love for you to stay with us," she urged. "I can take your room. It won't be any trouble at all. We can even splurge a little and redecorate!"
"If you're sure," Willow said shyly. "I don't want to be any trouble. Besides, I've been thinking... maybe... I should get my own place."
"Well, why don't you stay with us for now, while you look for somewhere new. Swapping rooms will be no trouble at all, in fact, it will be a lot easier for me and Spike-" Buffy stopped abruptly and bit her lip. Oops. I didn't mean for it to come out that way.
"You and Spike?" Willow asked, dazed and confused.
"Well, yeah. Come here, let's sit down." Buffy led her pale friend to her bed. "Will. I guess I should just come out and say it. Spike's living here now. He's been here since he came back from Africa. At first he stayed in your. ah. the master bedroom, but now... we've gotten close and... I hope you can be happy for us. We plan to get married." She held her left hand up beside her face and waggled the ring.
"Buffy..."
She wasn't sure what to make of Willow's knitted brow as the young woman began to speak.
"That's remarkable news." The statement was more matter-of-fact than with any discernable emotion, leaving Buffy baffled as to the redhead's impressions. Noticing the ring, Willow commented, "That's a very unusual ring."
Proudly Buffy explained, "It was Spike's mother's."
"Wow.Spike's mother's." Her tone was odd as if the thought had never occurred that Spike had a mother. "Ah... What kind of stones are those?" she inquired.
"Ah, per... peri... um..." Buffy tried to remember.
"Peridot?"
"Yeah, that's what Spike called them. Why?"
"Oh, nothing really. Just wondered." Then she remarked, "They're very... special. I know it's probably just a coincidence but peridot has some mystical properties... Protection mainly: against evil, night terrors, that sort of thing."
"Really? Cool," said Buffy enthusiastically. "As the Slayer living on the Hellmouth, I can use all the help I can get!" she joked, actually making her friend chuckle. Softly Buffy added, "It's nice to see you smile again Will. I'm so glad you're home." She gave her friend a big hug.
"Well..." Buffy began as she stood up, "give me a couple of minutes. I'll just go grab some clean sheets and stuff."
"Buffy, there's no need really. This is fine."
"No, Will. Believe me when I say, you need clean sheets," Buffy said insistently as she went out to the linen closet in the hall.
Willow's pale face blushed when she realized what her friend was telling her.
Soon, the two young women had the bed stripped and were remaking it, chatting happily about what they could do to their "new" rooms. They were both relieved to have an entirely new (and decidedly 'un-pressurey') subject to talk about. Each saw the move as a healthy change that would give them a fresh start to their "new lives".