Dawn and Willow had agreed to meet Buffy at the Magic Box after their classes that day. With any luck, they would be able to help her determine the cause of the disturbing dreams she'd been experiencing the last few nights. Buffy left home early in the afternoon to be sure to get there before Willow arrived, so her friend wouldn't have to face the temptation of being in the store alone.
If there was one thing she did understand these days, Buffy thought, it was temptation. It would be so easy to go back to Spike and simply give in to the sensual pleasure of his touch. No thinking, no responsibilities, no choices - just sensations. She knew she could go to him and he would welcome her at once. Part of her longed to.
But she also knew she shouldn't. There were too many duties, too many entanglements to be able to give up and walk away from them. Even Spike had chided her for wanting to be 'free of life'. Wouldn't Giles be proud, she thought sourly. See how well I've learned my lesson about being responsible.
That annoying little bell at the Magic Box rang as she pushed open the door and stepped into the relative cool and dark of the interior. Anya looked up from the counter with her 'customer service' smile plastered widely on, but relaxed when she recognized her friend. Buffy noticed that her hair was yet another shade of the L'Oréal rainbow this week, and wondered if Anya would be able to make up her mind in time for the wedding next month, or if she'd end up striped.
"Hello Buffy," Anya said pleasantly. "What can I get for you?"
"Nothing, thanks Anya," she replied. "I'm just here to meet Willow for a bit of research." Anya wasn't human enough yet to hide her disappointment, or maybe she was too human now. "No, wait," Buffy said, feeling guilty for the many times she and the others had monopolized the shop's resources without any return investment. "What have you got that would help me sleep? I've been having some disturbing dreams lately. Nothing magical, maybe some kind of herbal remedy?" she suggested.
Anya brightened immediately, and began to catalogue the various options. "Well, there are herbal teas, of course - chamomile, mint, jasmine and so on . . . all very soothing and restful. Or if you don't want something to drink, how about a bath infusion? There's lavender . . ."
Buffy let Anya's voice wash over her without taking in more than every other word. She didn't really feel that a solution to her nightmares would be as simple as that, or she would never have asked Willow to return to such a magically charged environment. She hoped they would arrive soon.
"Buffy? You're not listening," Anya noticed at last.
"I'm sorry, Anya," Buffy sighed. "It's been a difficult week. What were you saying?"
"I said that the orris root would probably the best choice - that way you can have a sachet for under your pillow as well." At that moment the bell at the front door rang again. Both women looked up. A young couple had entered the store, and they looked around expectantly.
"We don't have any orris root up here right now," Anya said as she moved to intercept her latest potential customers. "It's in the basement storage, near the preserved entrails. You can go and bring some up. It should be clearly labelled." Then she was off in flying capitalist mode.
As long as it's nowhere near any mummy hands, Buffy thought with rueful memory. She made her way to the basement access and down the creaking staircase. The condition of the storage space had certainly improved under Anya's management. Jars, boxes and other assorted containers had all been neatly labelled and sorted onto shelves by content and intended uses. While Giles's knowledge of arcane minutiae had been unsurpassed, he really hadn't been very good at inventory, she reflected.
Buffy found the orris root easily, tied into small bundles with brightly coloured ribbons and hung along side a variety of familiar and unfamiliar vegetable products. She had selected two small bunches when a noise behind her made her whirl and duck into the nearest shadows.
Someone was trying to open the gate that led from the basement storage to the sewer tunnels. Buffy peered around a stack of boxes to identify the intruder. She sighed on seeing a familiar face, and stepped into the open. "You can't come in here, Spike," she said.
He stopped fiddling with the lock on the gate and straightened. "Why Slayer, what a pleasant surprise. Come back to work here, have you? Situation that desperate?" he asked, amused. "Maybe you could help me find some more burba weed. I'm all out."
"No. I mean I'm not working here," she clarified. "And no, you can't have anything, because you can't come in. I had Tara put a spell on the store."
"Can't uninvite me from public places, love," he grinned. Opening the gate, he strolled forward, only to collide with an invisible surface.
"Didn't say it was an uninvite spell," she said shortly, watching him struggle to move ahead.
"What the hell is this, Buffy?" he snarled, testing the barrier. "Don't you trust yourself? Have to put up spell barriers any place I might see you because you haven't the guts to face me anymore? Just because you can find a way to keep me from seeing you doesn't change the fact that there's something powerful between us."
"There's nothing between us. Get that through your head. What the hell did you think? That we could grow old together?" she demanded. "Get real."
His lips thinned. "Real? I'll never grow old," he said. "And you? You're likely to die young. Is that real enough for you?"
Buffy was shocked into silence by his harsh words, yet she couldn't deny he was speaking the truth. She was probably already the oldest Slayer ever, which didn't bode well for her future.
"What I don't understand," he continued, his expression becoming more gentle, "is why you won't let yourself enjoy whatever time you do have. You don't have to love me," he said, "but can't you love yourself? Let yourself feel something?"
"You're missing the point, Spike," she insisted. "You may think it's all right if I keep sleeping with you without loving you - but I don't want to become the kind of person that thinks that's okay."
"So what will you be instead?" he inquired. "Someone who will never make a move on happiness because the situation isn't exactly perfect? People make compromises in their lives, pet. It happens all the time."
"Not me," she maintained.
"No, of course not. You might accidentally end up contented then. Face it, Slayer," he went on, "the perfect moment never comes. Life isn't a fairy tale. Take what you can get."
"Things were perfect once," she said softly.
"What, with soldierboy? Now even you have to know you're lying to yourself there - he was never the right one for you." He looked more carefully at her in the low light of the basement. "Don't tell me you're still mooning over Angel. That prancing poof?"
"Don't you dare talk about him," she threatened, her voice dangerously low. "You don't know anything about what we had."
"Yeah, and if he was so perfect, where is he now?" Spike asked, never willing to let a situation lie when he could pick at it some more. "You can polish up your keepsakes and memories as brightly as you like; no one will stop you. Make the past everything you ever hoped for; but you can't live in it - it's dead and it's gone."
He turned away and made his way back into the tunnel. His voice echoed back to her. "I'm not a smart man, pet, but I do know something about people. You've got to make a choice between then and now and decide what you want. Either get busy living for yourself in the present," he said, turning for one last look over his shoulder, "or get busy dying." With that, he vanished into the gloom.
Buffy leaned back against the cold stone of the basement wall and threw her head back. Her hands clenched and trembled with the strength of her emotions, crushing the delicate dried roots. How does he always manage to get to me? she wondered. I thought I would be stronger than this.
Suddenly, the atmosphere of the shop basement seemed oppressive, and she had to get out. Buffy ran for the stairs and into the store proper, startling Anya and the few customers there. "Something's come up and I have to go," she said breathlessly. "Tell Willow I'm sorry I couldn't wait. Send Dawn home." She was out the door before Anya could reply, heading for home and sanctuary.