New Horizons: Chapter Seventeen
By Annie
05-06-2002
Xander turned fully around and found himself having to look down to meet the eyes of the 'creature', which turned out to be two brown ones belonging to an old man, clearly Chinese, with gray hair reaching down to his waistline and a beard and mustache reaching down to his feet. He was wearing a Chinese robe made of blue silk and his eyes beamed at Xander, filled with curiosity.
Xander stared at him, quickly coming to the conclusion that either the exterior was some sort of a disguise or some sort of diversion.
Then the man chuckled, the darkness of his voice now erased and it instead sounding young and light when he spoke in American:
"Do you fear me?"
Xander looked at him, still not really sure what to think.
"Yes," he finally answered as steadily as he could. "But I'm not leaving until you help me. You ARE the sorcerer, right?"
The man gently bowed his affirmative.
"You are true, I like that," the man said. "Come," he added, bringing his hands together in a loud clap and just like that Xander found himself standing inside a small room filled with trinkets and ornaments, all of it in different shades of red.
"That was neat," Xander said, starting to relax.
The man let hear the low chuckle again as he began to light candles around the room.
"Yes, a little trick I learned in my youth," he said, turning around with his index finger on fire.
Xander felt his eyes widen and he took a step forward to help the old man, who was seemingly not even taking any notice, but then the sorcerer simply blew the flame out and gestured towards a table by which two chairs were placed.
"Have a seat," he said and Xander, a little shocked though he was used to the weird and obscene, walked up to the table, the man following him.
They sat down facing each other and the man smiled a little.
"You come to seek my help," the man said.
"Yes," Xander answered him.
"You come because you wish to find your love, who has left," the sorcerer said.
"Yes, her name is Anya and I think."
"Sch, don't tell me her name! It is.Anya?" the man said and Xander paused for a moment.
"Yes," he then answered and the man smiled.
"Good. Then we shall see what I can do."
Xander watched as the man slowly moved his hands over the cloth covering the table and soon it started bulging, after another moment it started to look like a three-dimensional map.
The sorcerer stopped his movements and the cloth stilled, now clearly a map of some sort of country.
"What is that, Africa?" Xander asked and the sorcerer hushed him.
"Very, very dangerous," he said. "This is the Hellmouth," he pointed to a small, black dot close to Xander. "And over here." he drew his hand toward himself, stopping by another small dot, "is where Anyanka grieves."
"She grieves?" Xander asked and the sorcerer raised his head, looking into his eyes and then nodded slowly.
"She grieves," he answered glumly and Xander felt his heart on the verge of destruction at the thought of what pain he must have caused her.
"Give me the map, I'll give you anything you want," he said and the sorcerer rose to his feet, walking over to a small cabinet and bringing something out of it before returning to the table.
"Take this," the man said, placing something that looked like an ancient compass in front of Xander. "And here," he added, gently touching Xander's forehead, the map immediately appearing before Xander's eyes. "There, now you have the map and the tool to guide you. I will hope for your return. Even though I doubt you will ever find your way out of there."
Xander got to his feet at that.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." he mumbled sarcastically, then asked: "But what do you want in exchange."
The sorcerer raised his hands.
"Only a favor for another favor, one day I will pay you a visit and then you cannot decline me," he answered and Xander nodded, his head still filled with the map and his need to get to Anya NOW!
"Good, it's a deal," he said, and the sorcerer nodded before clapping his hands one time again.
Before Xander knew what had happened he was staring at the sight of his demolished old high school, the more than strange sorcerer nowhere to be seen.
"Well," he said, shrugging as he started to walk towards the ruins of the building. "Hellmouth, here I come."
***
Buffy's entire body was aching.
"Oh, God, I think my BRAIN is hurting," she sighed as she sunk down in one of the armchairs in the drawing room.
"It's called a head ache, love," Spike remarked and she turned a tired glare his way.
He has been obnoxious all day, she thought angrily to herself.
They had gotten home from Mrs. Jenkins about half an hour before supper and they had had a quiet conversation at the table with Jacob about what he, who had been researching all day, had come up with.
He had told them that he had been going over the books mentioning anything about the Birth of Fire over and over and he just thought that there was something missing, but he couldn't find it. Something just didn't quite add up.
"Yeah, like Buffy's dancing abilities," Spike had laughed and she had almost choked on her water. "Oh, don't get me wrong, pet," he had added with that annoying smirk, "at the Bronze you sweep the floor with the competition, but here."
Sarah had silenced him by saying:
"I thought Buffy did a marvelous job considering that all the turns are completely foreign to her."
Buffy had tried to feel nothing but the gratitude she felt towards Sarah, but her head had been boiling with rising anger with him, and him still wearing that infuriating grin made her want to pick him up and throw him across the room!
Now in the drawing room he was standing in the soft glow of candlelight and his blue eyes were twinkling at her. She turned away stubbornly. Since their little escapade on the sidewalk earlier she had tried her best to stay away from him, and not think about it.
This proving a little difficult when Mrs. Jenkins insisted that he should be her partner for the dancing session.
He had surprised her, she had to admit; he had been more than familiar with the turns. But then she had remembered that he was a vampire and that all that sort of got built in with that first deadly kiss. A refined beast to slay the people and nestle into their society's very finest. Ridiculous to think that he could be anything but that still. Absolutely unthinkable that he could love her.
And then there were his eyes again, looking at her as though he could reach deep down and see her very soul. Eyeing her with the observation she had always found unsettling, its clear interest and often concern and more evident than anything: longing, had always found a way to get to her.
Now she got to her feet.
"I. I'm going to bed," she said, turning from him once more and smiling at Jacob and Sarah.
"Good night, Buffy," Sarah said and Buffy nodded.
"Sleep tight, my dear," Jacob said and she gave him a smile before she left the room without looking at Spike.
She was about to close her door when something stopped it and pushed it open.
Spike.
"I'm going to bed," she said as he stepped inside.
"So you said," he answered as he gently closed the door behind him.
"Well, you can't join me," she stated and despised the sudden weakness of her voice.
He smiled a little and then he took a step forward, making her take two steps back, straightening her posture and trying to look as determined as she could.
He knew she was more than serious; he had learned that lesson the night before when she had helped him and then left him. She wanted him but couldn't let herself give into that craving.
In spite of this he couldn't resist the opportunity to mess with her a little and therefore he let his lips stay curled into a small smile and then he looked at her seductively before asking:
"Are you sure?" and before she could answer he made his point by reaching out a hand and grabbing her arm, pulling her to him.
Buffy tore loose, furious with the need and the want and the desire within her making her want to stay in his arms.
Then he laughed a low laugh and she turned to him, even more furious with HIM.
"Get the hell out of my room, Spike," she said and now the gaze in his eyes was suddenly impatient.
"I didn't come up here to play rough-and-rumble with you, Slayer," he said and then let his eyes wander down her body as he added: "Even though we do it so well."
She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the damned butterflies starting to flutter around in her stomach as his eyes rested on her, waiting for the explanation to why exactly he HAD come after her.
"I wanna know what the hell you think happened today," he said and she felt her heart slow to a near stop.
No, rough-and-rumble is easier. Rough-and-rumble I can handle, she thought, trying to find something to say. We'll dance around each other for a little while and then we'll start a fight, and THAT we do so well, and then I'll throw you out.no, you'll leave, angry and bitter and resenting me.
But she knew that wouldn't be the scenario this time, and he was waiting for her reply. Finally she opened her mouth to say the only thing she could:
"I don't know."
His eyebrows rose. Then he sighed.
"Me neither," he said, then he seemed to get a hold of himself because he added: "And it was damn creepy so it better not happen again."
"Oh, please, you're loving this," she said and he looked at her in fake shock over that statement.
"I'm WHAT?" he asked and she shook her head at him.
"You are absolutely loving this, and you think that what I did I did because I can't resist you," she declared; struggling to keep her cool as he took a step forward, getting close to her before biting his lower lip a little, a gesture he knew drove her crazy, one way or another, and then said:
"Am I wrong?"
She bent her head to look up at him, feeling his tned upper-body lean in against hers, and she remembered the last time she had been in this situation, the night before they stepped through the mirror, in her room. How she had longed to just let it all slide and have him touching her again.
She took a step back, her legs feeling lifeless.
"Did-did you come into my room last night?" she now asked, trying a slightly desperate attempt at distracting him, not able to give a denying answer to his question.
He smirked as she moved away and then a flash of surprise was in his eyes at her question.
"No," he then answered and she narrowed her eyes.
He looks guilty, she thought and then smiled at him.
"Really?" she asked and now he took a step back as she took one forward. "I guess it must have been Sarah or Jacob," she added and he nodded, smiling back.
"I guess so," he said shrugging and turning around to walk up to the door. "So, none of us really know what happened today other than we almost."
"That's right," she interrupted him, not wanting to hear the word "kiss" from his mouth.
His lips curled once more in a smile as he nodded, opened the door and went outside.
She hesitated a moment and then walked up to it as well, calling after him:
"Spike?"
She heard him stop down the hallway and then his voice:
"Yeah?"
"Did you come into my room last night?"
Silence for a moment or two and then a quiet 'bloody hell' before she heard his answer.
"Yes."
She couldn't help but laugh to herself as she closed the door, shaking her head a little at him.
Then she realized something. It came to her as easily as if it had always been there, just waiting for a chance to reveal itself. The insight kind of scared her, she didn't know exactly what to do with it, only that it was there and that it was true.
She knew that she didn't believe that he was all evil. That she couldn't believe it anymore.
She couldn't get her mind around it, only that the fact of it was there and she wondered: HAD it always been there? Resting quietly in the back of her head, or rather locked away there, until it got a chance to break free, waiting patiently for the right moment to take flight across her thoughts and create chaos.
Everything she believed in could be summed up in: Light is good; dark is bad; or something like it.
Spike was darker than most vampires could ever dream of being. He was a master vampire, for God's sake. Well, no, not really for God's sake, for HIS sake. He was selfish, rude, an absolute menace most of the time.
And still the fact in her head was clear.
She thought of all the times she had watched him with Dawn, that was everything but evil. He had taken care of her sister even though Buffy wasn't alive, even though he had no idea of her return; he had kept his promise to her.
And suddenly she remembered the conversation they had had.the first time he had seen her after she was brought back.
"How long was I gone?" she had asked, her hands in his, knuckles still bloody from her escape out of her own coffin, and he had just been staring in shock and wonder at her face.
"A hundred and forty seven days yesterday.a hundred and forty eight today," he had then answered, his eyes barely leaving hers, and then he had added with a small smile: "But today doesn't count, does it?"
The memory was so clear in her head that she was surprised, and then others joined it. How he had helped her over and over, how he had saved her from everything that hurt, how he had saved her from herself at times. He had been there to confess to, and he had listened carefully to every word without even one single hint at judging her.
He had understood and supported more often than even her friends had been able to when she was going through the world feeling like a porcelain doll, ready to break. And she supposed that had somehow shown on her because that was how the Scoobies had treated her, as though she was about to fall apart and they didn't know how to approach her without speeding up the process.
Then she thought that was unfair of her. After all, she hadn't told them about the whole Heaven thing until the night they ended the musical craze of Sunnydale, and that must have been an awful blow to receive.
And then there had been the kissing with the vamp for the first time, of course.
She sighed to herself.
"This relationship was set on self destruct even before it began," she mumbled, walking up to her bed and lying down on it.
The question now hovering above was an even more difficult one.
Did he love her?
There was a knock on the door she recognized and she sat up as Sarah entered.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said with a smile. "Gina is on her way up but I wanted to get a chance to tell you how wonderful you were today. You did a marvelous job, as already mentioned, and I think that you will do MORE than fine tomorrow."
Buffy smiled faintly nodding.
"My dear, what's wrong?" Sarah asked, coming to sit by Buffy on the bed.
"It's.well," Buffy tried but trailed off.
Where should she start?
"You know you can tell me anything that is on your mind," Sarah said encouragingly and grabbing Buffy's hand.
Buffy smiled again, grateful.
"It's Spike," she said and Sarah looked concerned.
"I noticed that he followed you. You didn't have another fight, did you?" she asked and Buffy shook her head.
"It's not.Well, I mean. I realized something," Buffy mumbled, trying to find the words. "The answer to your first question."
Sarah looked like she was on immediate alert and listening with great concentration, waiting patiently for a reply.
"It's 'no'." Buffy said. "I don't really believe that he's all evil. I know a part of him is, but."
"Of course a PART of him is," Sarah said with a relieved smile, squeezing Buffy's hand a little. "Everybody has a dark side."
Buffy sighed, letting Sarah go and getting off the bed.
"Yes, I know, but.Oh, it's just so damn confusing!" Buffy grumbled and Sarah laughed.
"I think it usually is, my dear," she said, standing as well. "What about.the other question?" she added and Buffy turned to her, frustration in her eyes and Sarah nodded.
"I see. Well, I don't want to interfere in that, you need to make your decisions yourself," she said and walked up to Buffy, embracing her briefly before walking to the door.
Buffy smiled at her before she closed the door and then sat down on a chair by the small desk to wait for Gina.
"Damn it," she mumbled to herself, his eyes stubbornly hanging in her thoughts. "Why is everything all of a sudden so damn complicated?"
By Annie
05-06-2002
Xander turned fully around and found himself having to look down to meet the eyes of the 'creature', which turned out to be two brown ones belonging to an old man, clearly Chinese, with gray hair reaching down to his waistline and a beard and mustache reaching down to his feet. He was wearing a Chinese robe made of blue silk and his eyes beamed at Xander, filled with curiosity.
Xander stared at him, quickly coming to the conclusion that either the exterior was some sort of a disguise or some sort of diversion.
Then the man chuckled, the darkness of his voice now erased and it instead sounding young and light when he spoke in American:
"Do you fear me?"
Xander looked at him, still not really sure what to think.
"Yes," he finally answered as steadily as he could. "But I'm not leaving until you help me. You ARE the sorcerer, right?"
The man gently bowed his affirmative.
"You are true, I like that," the man said. "Come," he added, bringing his hands together in a loud clap and just like that Xander found himself standing inside a small room filled with trinkets and ornaments, all of it in different shades of red.
"That was neat," Xander said, starting to relax.
The man let hear the low chuckle again as he began to light candles around the room.
"Yes, a little trick I learned in my youth," he said, turning around with his index finger on fire.
Xander felt his eyes widen and he took a step forward to help the old man, who was seemingly not even taking any notice, but then the sorcerer simply blew the flame out and gestured towards a table by which two chairs were placed.
"Have a seat," he said and Xander, a little shocked though he was used to the weird and obscene, walked up to the table, the man following him.
They sat down facing each other and the man smiled a little.
"You come to seek my help," the man said.
"Yes," Xander answered him.
"You come because you wish to find your love, who has left," the sorcerer said.
"Yes, her name is Anya and I think."
"Sch, don't tell me her name! It is.Anya?" the man said and Xander paused for a moment.
"Yes," he then answered and the man smiled.
"Good. Then we shall see what I can do."
Xander watched as the man slowly moved his hands over the cloth covering the table and soon it started bulging, after another moment it started to look like a three-dimensional map.
The sorcerer stopped his movements and the cloth stilled, now clearly a map of some sort of country.
"What is that, Africa?" Xander asked and the sorcerer hushed him.
"Very, very dangerous," he said. "This is the Hellmouth," he pointed to a small, black dot close to Xander. "And over here." he drew his hand toward himself, stopping by another small dot, "is where Anyanka grieves."
"She grieves?" Xander asked and the sorcerer raised his head, looking into his eyes and then nodded slowly.
"She grieves," he answered glumly and Xander felt his heart on the verge of destruction at the thought of what pain he must have caused her.
"Give me the map, I'll give you anything you want," he said and the sorcerer rose to his feet, walking over to a small cabinet and bringing something out of it before returning to the table.
"Take this," the man said, placing something that looked like an ancient compass in front of Xander. "And here," he added, gently touching Xander's forehead, the map immediately appearing before Xander's eyes. "There, now you have the map and the tool to guide you. I will hope for your return. Even though I doubt you will ever find your way out of there."
Xander got to his feet at that.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." he mumbled sarcastically, then asked: "But what do you want in exchange."
The sorcerer raised his hands.
"Only a favor for another favor, one day I will pay you a visit and then you cannot decline me," he answered and Xander nodded, his head still filled with the map and his need to get to Anya NOW!
"Good, it's a deal," he said, and the sorcerer nodded before clapping his hands one time again.
Before Xander knew what had happened he was staring at the sight of his demolished old high school, the more than strange sorcerer nowhere to be seen.
"Well," he said, shrugging as he started to walk towards the ruins of the building. "Hellmouth, here I come."
***
Buffy's entire body was aching.
"Oh, God, I think my BRAIN is hurting," she sighed as she sunk down in one of the armchairs in the drawing room.
"It's called a head ache, love," Spike remarked and she turned a tired glare his way.
He has been obnoxious all day, she thought angrily to herself.
They had gotten home from Mrs. Jenkins about half an hour before supper and they had had a quiet conversation at the table with Jacob about what he, who had been researching all day, had come up with.
He had told them that he had been going over the books mentioning anything about the Birth of Fire over and over and he just thought that there was something missing, but he couldn't find it. Something just didn't quite add up.
"Yeah, like Buffy's dancing abilities," Spike had laughed and she had almost choked on her water. "Oh, don't get me wrong, pet," he had added with that annoying smirk, "at the Bronze you sweep the floor with the competition, but here."
Sarah had silenced him by saying:
"I thought Buffy did a marvelous job considering that all the turns are completely foreign to her."
Buffy had tried to feel nothing but the gratitude she felt towards Sarah, but her head had been boiling with rising anger with him, and him still wearing that infuriating grin made her want to pick him up and throw him across the room!
Now in the drawing room he was standing in the soft glow of candlelight and his blue eyes were twinkling at her. She turned away stubbornly. Since their little escapade on the sidewalk earlier she had tried her best to stay away from him, and not think about it.
This proving a little difficult when Mrs. Jenkins insisted that he should be her partner for the dancing session.
He had surprised her, she had to admit; he had been more than familiar with the turns. But then she had remembered that he was a vampire and that all that sort of got built in with that first deadly kiss. A refined beast to slay the people and nestle into their society's very finest. Ridiculous to think that he could be anything but that still. Absolutely unthinkable that he could love her.
And then there were his eyes again, looking at her as though he could reach deep down and see her very soul. Eyeing her with the observation she had always found unsettling, its clear interest and often concern and more evident than anything: longing, had always found a way to get to her.
Now she got to her feet.
"I. I'm going to bed," she said, turning from him once more and smiling at Jacob and Sarah.
"Good night, Buffy," Sarah said and Buffy nodded.
"Sleep tight, my dear," Jacob said and she gave him a smile before she left the room without looking at Spike.
She was about to close her door when something stopped it and pushed it open.
Spike.
"I'm going to bed," she said as he stepped inside.
"So you said," he answered as he gently closed the door behind him.
"Well, you can't join me," she stated and despised the sudden weakness of her voice.
He smiled a little and then he took a step forward, making her take two steps back, straightening her posture and trying to look as determined as she could.
He knew she was more than serious; he had learned that lesson the night before when she had helped him and then left him. She wanted him but couldn't let herself give into that craving.
In spite of this he couldn't resist the opportunity to mess with her a little and therefore he let his lips stay curled into a small smile and then he looked at her seductively before asking:
"Are you sure?" and before she could answer he made his point by reaching out a hand and grabbing her arm, pulling her to him.
Buffy tore loose, furious with the need and the want and the desire within her making her want to stay in his arms.
Then he laughed a low laugh and she turned to him, even more furious with HIM.
"Get the hell out of my room, Spike," she said and now the gaze in his eyes was suddenly impatient.
"I didn't come up here to play rough-and-rumble with you, Slayer," he said and then let his eyes wander down her body as he added: "Even though we do it so well."
She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the damned butterflies starting to flutter around in her stomach as his eyes rested on her, waiting for the explanation to why exactly he HAD come after her.
"I wanna know what the hell you think happened today," he said and she felt her heart slow to a near stop.
No, rough-and-rumble is easier. Rough-and-rumble I can handle, she thought, trying to find something to say. We'll dance around each other for a little while and then we'll start a fight, and THAT we do so well, and then I'll throw you out.no, you'll leave, angry and bitter and resenting me.
But she knew that wouldn't be the scenario this time, and he was waiting for her reply. Finally she opened her mouth to say the only thing she could:
"I don't know."
His eyebrows rose. Then he sighed.
"Me neither," he said, then he seemed to get a hold of himself because he added: "And it was damn creepy so it better not happen again."
"Oh, please, you're loving this," she said and he looked at her in fake shock over that statement.
"I'm WHAT?" he asked and she shook her head at him.
"You are absolutely loving this, and you think that what I did I did because I can't resist you," she declared; struggling to keep her cool as he took a step forward, getting close to her before biting his lower lip a little, a gesture he knew drove her crazy, one way or another, and then said:
"Am I wrong?"
She bent her head to look up at him, feeling his tned upper-body lean in against hers, and she remembered the last time she had been in this situation, the night before they stepped through the mirror, in her room. How she had longed to just let it all slide and have him touching her again.
She took a step back, her legs feeling lifeless.
"Did-did you come into my room last night?" she now asked, trying a slightly desperate attempt at distracting him, not able to give a denying answer to his question.
He smirked as she moved away and then a flash of surprise was in his eyes at her question.
"No," he then answered and she narrowed her eyes.
He looks guilty, she thought and then smiled at him.
"Really?" she asked and now he took a step back as she took one forward. "I guess it must have been Sarah or Jacob," she added and he nodded, smiling back.
"I guess so," he said shrugging and turning around to walk up to the door. "So, none of us really know what happened today other than we almost."
"That's right," she interrupted him, not wanting to hear the word "kiss" from his mouth.
His lips curled once more in a smile as he nodded, opened the door and went outside.
She hesitated a moment and then walked up to it as well, calling after him:
"Spike?"
She heard him stop down the hallway and then his voice:
"Yeah?"
"Did you come into my room last night?"
Silence for a moment or two and then a quiet 'bloody hell' before she heard his answer.
"Yes."
She couldn't help but laugh to herself as she closed the door, shaking her head a little at him.
Then she realized something. It came to her as easily as if it had always been there, just waiting for a chance to reveal itself. The insight kind of scared her, she didn't know exactly what to do with it, only that it was there and that it was true.
She knew that she didn't believe that he was all evil. That she couldn't believe it anymore.
She couldn't get her mind around it, only that the fact of it was there and she wondered: HAD it always been there? Resting quietly in the back of her head, or rather locked away there, until it got a chance to break free, waiting patiently for the right moment to take flight across her thoughts and create chaos.
Everything she believed in could be summed up in: Light is good; dark is bad; or something like it.
Spike was darker than most vampires could ever dream of being. He was a master vampire, for God's sake. Well, no, not really for God's sake, for HIS sake. He was selfish, rude, an absolute menace most of the time.
And still the fact in her head was clear.
She thought of all the times she had watched him with Dawn, that was everything but evil. He had taken care of her sister even though Buffy wasn't alive, even though he had no idea of her return; he had kept his promise to her.
And suddenly she remembered the conversation they had had.the first time he had seen her after she was brought back.
"How long was I gone?" she had asked, her hands in his, knuckles still bloody from her escape out of her own coffin, and he had just been staring in shock and wonder at her face.
"A hundred and forty seven days yesterday.a hundred and forty eight today," he had then answered, his eyes barely leaving hers, and then he had added with a small smile: "But today doesn't count, does it?"
The memory was so clear in her head that she was surprised, and then others joined it. How he had helped her over and over, how he had saved her from everything that hurt, how he had saved her from herself at times. He had been there to confess to, and he had listened carefully to every word without even one single hint at judging her.
He had understood and supported more often than even her friends had been able to when she was going through the world feeling like a porcelain doll, ready to break. And she supposed that had somehow shown on her because that was how the Scoobies had treated her, as though she was about to fall apart and they didn't know how to approach her without speeding up the process.
Then she thought that was unfair of her. After all, she hadn't told them about the whole Heaven thing until the night they ended the musical craze of Sunnydale, and that must have been an awful blow to receive.
And then there had been the kissing with the vamp for the first time, of course.
She sighed to herself.
"This relationship was set on self destruct even before it began," she mumbled, walking up to her bed and lying down on it.
The question now hovering above was an even more difficult one.
Did he love her?
There was a knock on the door she recognized and she sat up as Sarah entered.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said with a smile. "Gina is on her way up but I wanted to get a chance to tell you how wonderful you were today. You did a marvelous job, as already mentioned, and I think that you will do MORE than fine tomorrow."
Buffy smiled faintly nodding.
"My dear, what's wrong?" Sarah asked, coming to sit by Buffy on the bed.
"It's.well," Buffy tried but trailed off.
Where should she start?
"You know you can tell me anything that is on your mind," Sarah said encouragingly and grabbing Buffy's hand.
Buffy smiled again, grateful.
"It's Spike," she said and Sarah looked concerned.
"I noticed that he followed you. You didn't have another fight, did you?" she asked and Buffy shook her head.
"It's not.Well, I mean. I realized something," Buffy mumbled, trying to find the words. "The answer to your first question."
Sarah looked like she was on immediate alert and listening with great concentration, waiting patiently for a reply.
"It's 'no'." Buffy said. "I don't really believe that he's all evil. I know a part of him is, but."
"Of course a PART of him is," Sarah said with a relieved smile, squeezing Buffy's hand a little. "Everybody has a dark side."
Buffy sighed, letting Sarah go and getting off the bed.
"Yes, I know, but.Oh, it's just so damn confusing!" Buffy grumbled and Sarah laughed.
"I think it usually is, my dear," she said, standing as well. "What about.the other question?" she added and Buffy turned to her, frustration in her eyes and Sarah nodded.
"I see. Well, I don't want to interfere in that, you need to make your decisions yourself," she said and walked up to Buffy, embracing her briefly before walking to the door.
Buffy smiled at her before she closed the door and then sat down on a chair by the small desk to wait for Gina.
"Damn it," she mumbled to herself, his eyes stubbornly hanging in her thoughts. "Why is everything all of a sudden so damn complicated?"