Do What You Have to Do
Part XX
"Buffy, no!" Rachel shrieked, waving her arms in front of her as she watched the slayer, weapon in hand, speed towards her, the blonde's eyes alit in determination. She tried to stand her ground but the fierce set of Buffy's lip had the brunette ducking for cover as Buffy swung the item downward.
Both women screamed when the small flame on the stove rose up, exploding into a column of fire before seconds later a white cloud engulfed it, swallowing it whole.
The two women traded looks with one another and the blonde shrugged sheepishly at the annoyed glare from the brunette holding the extinguisher. The silence stretched between them before Buffy broke it with a simple "Oops."
" 'Oops'?" Rachel repeated incredulously. "You try to flambé me and the best you can come up with is 'oops'? Didn't your mom ever teach you not to throw water on a grease fire?"
Buffy rolled her eyes, perturbed at being treated like a child in her own home.
"God, Night," Buffy said, "would you give it a rest. Talk about Drama Queen." She punctuated that by tossing the pan into the sink
" 'Drama Queen'?" The other woman asked in disbelief.
"What? Is this 'repeat what Buffy says' day or something?" She muttered while cleaning up what was left of the chicken and pan.
"Well, maybe it is. Or maybe I am awed at you referring to me as a D.Q."
"Dairy Queen?"
"You know what I mean, Ms. Kettle." Buffy whirled around and glared at Rachel, who mirrored the slayer, hands on hips style. They stood there, locked in a stare down, before the brunette's lips started to quirk up. Buffy scowled at the woman, making Rachel's façade crack even more until she finally gave it up and bent over laughing.
"You are too funny, Summers," she said through tears, her tone carrying a hint of amused sarcasm.
"That's me, The Quippiest Slayer who ever quippy quipped a quip." That stopped Rachel's laughter cold.
"What the bloody hell did you just say?"
"I said, that's me, funny girl," Buffy replied with a straight face. This time, both women erupted into laughter simultaneously before directing their attention back to the food on the island.
"Well," Buffy said after a moment of consideration, "at least we have salad."
"And potatoes."
"And greens simmering."
"Now all we need is the meat portion of dinner and we'll be fine."
"Well," the slayer said, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the charred dish, "I think the chicken is deep-sixed."
"Too true, Summers, too true." Buffy smiled and continued chopping the potatoes. The past two weeks had been an eye opener for her, not just about her own feelings about…things, but her opinion of Rachel as well.
Upon first sight Buffy had taken an instant dislike to the other woman, with her fancy silk sweats and too cool sunglasses. She had spent that first conversation trying to intimidate the brunette, a tactic that had worked to some extent. She had also been suspicious of the woman as well, especially when Dawn had produced a crisp hundred procured from Spike. It wasn't until later that Buffy discovered the money had reminded Rachel of the gift Spike had told her to get for Dawn; a platinum cross and chain along with a matching tennis bracelet. That had shut her slayer mouth and induced a disturbing sense of guilty vibes through her.
Guilt notwithstanding, however, Buffy had been determined not to like Rachel.
Two weeks sure do change things, Buffy thought ruefully. Though they hadn't spent that much time together, Buffy had found in the few times they had gotten together--quite by accident, thank you very much--that Rachel was not the bitch Buffy had hoped her to be.
In truth, Buffy had found many similarities between herself and Rachel. Not only was the other woman smart and insightful, she was also sarcastic and witty and, unlike Buffy, Rachel didn't take many things personally. So, as reluctant as the slayer was to admit it, they had gotten along very well.
Rachel smiled slightly when she felt Buffy's eyes on her. She knew what the slayer was thinking because, well, her mind was similarly occupied. After all Spike had told her about his relationship with Buffy, the brunette had wanted nothing more than to pummel the slayer, despite 1) knowing everything wasn't Buffy's fault and 2) having a fairly good insight on the outcome of a fight between the two of the if it came to that. So, when they had first sat down in the living room, a little over two weeks ago, seeing each other for the first time, Rachel had been surprised that the animosity she had felt towards Buffy was obliterated with one look in those hazel eyes. There was so much love and loss detailed in Buffy's eyes that the other woman had to quell the urge to hug the blonde woman tightly.
Will would've gotten a kick out of that, Rachel mused as she cut up some tomatoes for the salad. No, this trip to Sunnydale had been better than she thought. She had found, in the two weeks that she had been here that she shared interests with all of the 'Scoobies', as they called themselves. She and Willow both were interested in magic and computers and she and Xander had the same love of humor. Dawn and Buffy shared Rachel's love of shopping as well as somewhat volatile mood swings, though Rachel had been happy that they Scoobies had yet to catch her on a bad day.
But the strangest thing was how well she liked Buffy. The blonde had a spunk, a pizzazz about her that Rachel rarely saw in others. Though she was confident and strong, compliment Buffy on something and she would smile sweetly, her cheeks flushing modestly. Yeah, she was headstrong and stubborn and liked a good verbal sparring as much as fisticuffs but, at the same time, she was caring, considerate and would die—had died—for her friends. Buffy Summers was someone Rachel was glad to have met.
Now that wasn't to say that they would be best friends or anything like that—of course, being in love with the same guy may have been an obstacle—but, yeah, that was pretty much the only issue between them. Despite Buffy's closed lips on the subject, Rachel knew that the slayer was in love with Will. Head over heels, one hundred-percent, live-and-die-for-you in love. It was something that hurt Rachel and not just because she was in love with Will, too, but she was intimately familiar on how things could end for Buffy if the slayer didn't follow her heart.
"So," Buffy said, her voice shattering the comfortable silence. "Have you talked to Sp-Will today?" She cursed mentally when Rachel visibly tensed before forcibly relaxing. As well as they had been getting along the last few weeks, Buffy knew that any reminders of Spike instantly put a damper on their camaraderie. She could admit that she was jealous of Rachel's close relationship with Spike and that Rachel was resentful of Spike's love for Buffy. That's why, since that first day in the living room, the three of them had spent only a handful of minutes together, unable to diffuse the tension that choked them as a trio.
"Yeah," Rachel said, her voice clawing over the lump in her throat. "Earlier today. We—uh, we were looking at some things. Places to establish another Blue Song."
"So, did you guys find a place?"
"He did," Rachel answered sourly. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply for her lack of strength. When did it get so hard? Hell, she had lived with Will for two years, most of that time in love with him and yet, talking about him, about his future was harder now than it was when she would stop things from going to far between them.
"Rachel?" Buffy called for the third time and the other woman finally looked at her, her obsidian eyes filled with pain. "Are you okay?" She asked and laid her hand against he bronze arm of the other woman.
Yes, Rachel wanted to lie but the words refused to form. Not until today had his name caused such a deep, bellyaching pain within her. When she had kissed him earlier, Rachel had known if he asked her to, she would have made love to him then and there. Why now, after all the other opportunities had come and gone, did she feel betrayed by her own resolve? Why now did she not care whether or not he looked at her afterwards with blue eyes tinged with guilt? Why was something inside of her screaming to act, to find him and beg him to take her anyway he wanted? She wished so much she had the answer to those questions but said answers alluded her with the ease of a breeze slipping through one's fingertips.
"So," she finally said, "are you finished with those potatoes?"
Buffy stared at Rachel for several beats, studying the contours of the other woman's face. And as good as Rachel was at hiding it, Buffy saw the other woman's sorrow as clear as a mirrored reflection; the same face Buffy saw for nearly a year after she was resurrected. Even now, the pain glanced at her through hazel eyes though she pushed it away. The bitterness that still sometimes nagged at Buffy over it was minute but sometimes--
"Ready," Buffy said, shaking the viscous web of her thoughts away. She dumped the potatoes into the boiling water before putting the lid on the pan. She turned back around and gave Rachel a tentative smile. "So, you wanna go ahead and dish out the salad? We can eat at the table while we wait for the rest of the food to get finished cooking."
"Sounds good to me," Rachel said and used the tongs to divvy up the salad. Two minutes later, both women were lost in their salads, lost in thought and they stared at anything but one another. Buffy took great interest in the ranch dressing that slithered over the lettuce and carrot sprinkles. Something about that little thing drew her in, a deep, burning flame whispering promises of forever to the small-minded moth.
"You know," Buffy said, eyeing the piece of lettuce harpooned at the end of her fork, "as much as I like salads, they do nothing for my appetite."
"Tell me about it," Rachel agreed. "All they do is piss me off even more. Especially if I'm as hungry as I am now."
"Too true."
"I'll take a nice, healthy steak any day," the dark haired woman continued "and bugger all the calories." Buffy laughed at that before stuffing another leaf of salad into her mouth.
"Well, since neither of us are connoisseurs of steak makage not of the wooden kind, we're gonna have to make do with this lovely salad."
"And the fries getting the boiling treatment."
"And," Buffy said before standing, "the extra large pizza I'm about to call in with sausage and pepperoni."
Rachel laughed as Buffy walked out the room before calling out to the blonde, "What? No Anchovies."
Her query wasn't dignified with a response.
*&*
"Now that is a man I wouldn't mind showing the ropes to," Rachel says to me. After the pizza came, we decided to have a girl's night in, so to speak which, to me, is quite amusing considering our interests lie in the same guy.
"He's alright," I concede. Rachel sits up and stares at me incredulously.
"Colin Farrell's only "alright"? Are you tripping, girl? Did you see him in Daredevil with that leather trench of his? Oh. My. God. Talk about taking a piece out of someone."
"So you gotta thing for guys in leather coats, huh?"
Rachel gives me a lecherous grin before replying. "Doesn't every girl?"
A brief thought of Angel flitters through my mind before Spike is front and center on the plasma screen in my brain. "You can say that again," I say as I think of the fluid grace Spike always moved with, how his duster always billowed in the wind, curling to his body. Talk about sex on two legs. God, he was hot.
"Who was hot?" Rachel asks me and I gasp, realizing that I said it out loud. "Buffy?"
"Uh, ah…" Great. Tongue-tied Buffy's making an appearance in front of company. "I--I was just thinking a-about this movie. The Matrix! Yeah, and Keanu Reeves. A-and Lawrence Fishburne. Talk about hot. Wow." I fan myself to sell it but I can see by the look in her eyes that she's not buying it.
"Well that's one thing you and Will have in common."
I frown. "What's that?"
"You're both terrible liars." I roll my eyes at her and return my attention back to the screen. She studies me for a few seconds before she, too, is caught up in the movie.
We watch the rest of it in silence but right after the ending credits Rachel grabs the remote and turns it off. I open my mouth to say something sarcastic but the seriousness in her eyes halts my words.
"Rachel? Something wrong?" I don't like the look I'm seeing. It's filled with a sadness and bitterness that I can relate to.
She puts her thumb to her lips and starts nibbling on her nail. I refrain from repeating my question and soften my gaze so she won't feel so pressured. I wait several minutes, watching her eyes dance across the room. She's debating something in her mind and as much as I want her to spit it out, I've learned quite a bit of patience these past couple of years. I may not be saintly with it but at least I don't blow my stack when things don't come quickly.
"I was twenty-one," she says breaking me from my thoughts. Her energetic voice is so devoid of emotion as if she's narrating a special on algae or something equally boring. She traces patterns on the couch with two fingers instead of looking at me but I don't particularly care. I know how hard it is to tell someone things--personal things. And color me intuitive, but I have the feeling whatever it is she's going to say is very personal.
"I was in my junior year at San Diego State. I was seeing this guy named Jared. Had been seeing him since the second semester of my freshman year. The first year and a half was an on/off thing. Some of my friends joked that we were each other's mutual bootie call but it was so much more than that. I mean, neither one of us wanted to really settle down although we were crazy about each other. It wasn't until a few weeks before the start of our junior year that we got the hint and started dating exclusively. By that time he had started an internship with a marketing firm in downtown San Diego and I had just moved into an off-campus apartment with my roommate of two years. We were together every night, either at his place or mine. Elise, my roomie, teased me about how we screwed like bunnies, though her explanation was decidedly more crass.
"It was like we could see nothing but each other we were so in love. He was my first, you know. Well, maybe not technically, but Bobby Taylor doesn't count, considering I was seventeen and drunk. But when me and Jared did it, it was amazing. It was two weeks after we first went out freshman year. I know that may sound bad but he said the right things and he had me."
I smile at her through the slight sting in my belly. Although it's been almost five years, I still sometimes slam myself for the whole Parker Abrams debacle. I wipe the memory away and focus on Rachel's words.
"Anyway, like I said, we were inseparable. Everything was going so well. We had our tiffs here and there of course, but nothing major. Everything was fine until we came back from winter break.
"He had gone with a dozen or so marketing students on a trip to LA for about a week for this lecture. Anyway, after he came back, things were different. It was so weird. When we were on the phone, everything seemed fine but when we were alone, it was like he was afraid to touch me. We still held hands and all when we walked through campus but that was it. When I would try to start something, he would go along with it for awhile but stop me before we went too far. Every time I asked him about it, he would throw off some excuse as to why he didn't want it. Naturally, I felt like he wasn't attracted to me anymore or that he was cheating. The only problem with the latter was that he still slept with me, held me close almost every night. And it was one of those nights that I heard him tell me what was wrong.
"Jared had a beautiful voice, Buffy, and he always sang me to sleep. Well, one night after he thought I had fallen asleep, he starts whispering to me how much he loved me and would never do anything to willingly hurt me. Before I could say it back to him, he told me how sorry he was. How it didn't mean anything to him, how he had made such a big mistake with her. At that, I whirled on him and was stunned to see him crying. I had never seen Jared cry before. Buffy, his eyes were so huge when he realized I'd heard his apology. As much as I wanted to hold him, I had to know. So he told me.
"Her name was Sandra Mitchell and she always had a thing for Jared. She was one of the members of his marketing group that went to LA. Apparently they got liquored up really good and when Jared went back to his room, Sandra followed him. She started putting the moves on him and he kept telling her he had a girlfriend, which she should know that by now but that didn't stop her. She…she unzipped his pants and…went down on him." The last part is a whisper but I hear it clearly enough. Tears are rolling down Rachel's cheeks although I doubt she even realizes it. I remain fixated on her and she finally continues.
"Oral sex was something I had never really been comfortable with. I did it for him a few times but never thought I was good at it, despite what he would tell me. So naturally I felt inferior if he would do something like that. We had a huge fight--well that's not entirely accurate, considering I was the one yelling and screaming and slapping the shit out of him. The things I said, God, Buffy, he took every bit of it. Never said a word. After I was done, I kissed him with everything I had and when I finished, I told him that was the last time he would ever feel my lips on him. So, for two weeks, I ignored all his attempts to contact me. About halfway through that time, I started getting these stomachaches. Talk about pains in the ass. I just figured that it was from stress."
"But it wasn't."
"You got it. Elise finally convinced me to get a check up. So I went, expecting nothing but a stern warning to get rest and eat right. Imagine my surprise when the Doc to me I was pregnant."
"Wh-what did Jared say?" Rachel looks down in shame and I gasp. "You didn't tell him?"
"No, Buffy, I didn't get an abortion," she says, almost reading my thoughts. "And, you're right, I didn't tell him at first. No, well I did, but--I was so horrible." The tears start up again and she buries her face in her hands. I instinctively move towards her and she shies away but not before giving me a hesitant smile.
"I'm okay, Buffy. It's just that, I don't know. I--I was so horrible. I told him it was someone else's."
"Oh, Rachel."
"Yeah, crown me the big Bitch. I didn't keep up the charade long, a few days maybe but it hurt him so bad. Even after he knew, it took him awhile to get over the lie."
"So what happened?" I ask. Spike never said anything about Rachel having a child.
"About my fourth month, I started having stomach pains again. I didn't tell anyone because I thought it was normal but…" she stops again and bites her thumb. I lay a hand on her leg that is curled underneath her and try to finish for her.
"It wasn't normal, was it?" She shakes her head. "Rachel? Did you have a miscarriage?" She nods minutely before breaking down into harsh sobs. Without thinking, I embrace her tightly, whispering her to let it out. So involved in seeing to her, I don't notice my own tears falling until she gently pushes me away.
I wipe the tears away in the same manner Rachel does. She takes several steadying breaths and when she finally calms, her voice is steady though the underlying pain is still there.
"I blamed Jared for it. We were having another fight, nothing big, when I collapsed in pain. He rushed me to the hospital but, by the time we got there, it was too late.
"Everything between us fell apart after that and it was basically my fault. I was short with Jared and he allowed me to be, especially considering what had happened with Jesse."
"Jesse?" I ask and for the first time since we've started talking, Rachel gives me a genuine smile.
"That's what I was gonna name the baby. Works pretty well for a boy or girl, don't you think?"
"You could say that," I say, grinning.
"Anyway, I just kept punishing him for it. I never said that I blamed him but I didn't have to. He blamed himself for it. He blamed himself and I did nothing to alleviate his guilt because I was stuck second-guessing my own decisions. That's what hurts so much. The fact that the guilt I felt for what happened, by not telling people of my stomach pains, I put off on him.
"Halfway through the summer, I broke up with him. Told him that it wasn't working out, that I couldn't be near him. Even as I said it, something inside me was screaming not to do it-that this guy loved me more than anything in the world and I'd be hard pressed to find that ever again. But I was stubborn and blocked out that annoying little voice. So, I moved out on my own and pretty much cut all ties with him. He tried to get in touch with me but I never acknowledged it. I didn't see him again until two years later. He came into the bar I was working at and when we made eye contact, it was like a rush of emotion passed between us. At that moment, I wanted to get on my knees and beg him to come back to me although I knew I didn't deserve it. So, I walked towards him and, before I got there, this woman comes in and puts her arm around him. Come to find out it was his engagement party. He had just proposed to her that day. Buffy, I've never felt as lost and alone as I did when I found that out. Of course, I went home sick right after hearing that bit of news."
"Did you talk to him again?"
"Yeah, but not for a few weeks when he came back in. We talked about things, apologized for things in the past. I wanted so bad to tell him that I still loved him but I didn't. Don't know what stopped me. And by the way he looked at me he still loved me. Or so I liked to think. But I said nothing and we parted almost friends.
"Since then, I've seen him a few times but we email each other probably once every few weeks. He's still married, has a kid. Lives in Modesto."
"I'm sorry, Rachel," are the only words that come to me. After what she's told me, the words seem so lame.
"Don't be, Buffy," she says and smiles sadly. "Just don't make the same mistake."
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"Buffy, we both know that there are a few things we have in common. Thinking Colin Farrell's a hottie, queens of quip and we're both in love with the same guy." Before I can protest, she holds a hand up to me.
"Don't deny it, Buffy, I can see it in the way you look at him, the way you tense whenever I mention his name. Trust me, I know the signs."
"But I-but…" Oh, great. Another appearance of the fantastic stuttering slayer.
"But what? Garrett? Oh, I know you love him, too, Buffy. But what you feel for Will, what you two feel for each other is so much deeper than love."
"What are you trying to say? That we're soul mates?"
She smiles ruefully. "Something like that."
"Sorry, but I don't believe in soul mates anymore," I say, trying to be perky. She doesn't fall for it.
"You don't get it, Buffy. It doesn't matter whether you believe in something or not. Doesn't make it any less true."
I open my mouth to say something but I refrain, seeing the harsh truth of her words. I wish it was that easy but it's not. Just another lesson I've learned the hard way.
"Buffy," she says, startling me back into reality. "I'm leaving in the next two days. Going back to San Diego."
"Oh."
"Don't get too broken up about it, sister," she jibes.
"Don't worry, I won't," I tease.
"I can't be around him anymore." Her voice is so small when she says it. "I had resisted him at least a half dozen times when we were in San Diego. I knew he was attracted to me, wanted me, but he didn't love me. He'd told me all about you and I knew--I know he'll never feel that way about me. But I'm tired of fighting, Buffy."
"So what are you saying?" I ask, not liking where this is headed.
"What I'm saying is that, if you don't give him a chance, or hurt him, then I'll be there. And I won't resist him again."
A part of me is furious at that but I know I have no right to be. I take a few steadying breaths to remove the malice from my voice when I speak. "So you would be with him even if he doesn't…"
"Even if, Buffy. Even if." We are quiet for awhile, lost in our own thoughts when Rachel sits up, grabbing her purse.
"I better be going."
"Yeah," I say and look at the clock. It's quarter to twelve. "Wow, time sure flies when you're having fun."
"Or an intense bonding night." We both laugh as I escort her to the door. When she walks past the threshold, she turns to me and gives me a tight hug.
"Thank you, Buffy."
"But I didn't…"
"Just for being there. And Buffy?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't…don't take too long. You and Will have been through enough as it is. Don't make it worse."
"Rachel, it's not that easy."
"No it's not that easy. Nothing good ever is. I know you love Garrett, I do. But, like I said, what you share with Will is something magical. Don't waste it.
"I know some may think what I'm doing is noble, but it's not. I knew Will would never love me fully and that's why I didn't want to start anything with him. But I'm tired, Buffy. I'm tired of being alone, of screwing things up. If things don't work out between you two, then I will be there for him. And as much as you may not want to hear it, he will love me. I'm not naïve enough to think that I would have his whole heart but what I would have, I would make last for the rest of my life. I can't fight what's in my heart forever, Buffy." She pulls away but not before kissing me on the cheek. "And neither should you."
*&*
Buffy watched Rachel pull off before closing the door. She leaned against the solid wood and slid to the floor, the weight of her thoughts almost unbearable.
She closed her eyes and was immediately assaulted by the truth of Rachel's words. The brunette had gone through so much and it was something Buffy could relate to. She knew how past events scarred you for life, making you hesitate when similar situations came across. It was a difficult thing, ignoring the heartache and taking chances. It had been something Buffy had never been good at.
Well, at least her boyfriend didn't go psycho killer when they slept together, Buffy thought dryly. Despite that, however, the slayer knew that the other woman had been in pain over what had happened with Jared, still was in pain. And it was furthered by Rachel's love for Spike.
The fact that Rachel had stopped anything from happening between herself and Spike after living with him for two years astounded Buffy. Hell, I couldn't even go two days without trying to jump him, Buffy thought.
Don't you think that should tell you something? A voice shouted from the recesses of her mind. She jumped from the vehement tone and reprimanded herself.
"Physical attraction does not a relationship make," she said aloud though the words even seemed hollow to her. Yes, she was attracted to Spike more than anyone, ever, but that wasn't why she couldn't keep her hands off of him. A significant part, yes, but not all of it.
Every time they were together, Buffy wanted to be close to him, needed to be close to him. It was as if a part of her wanted nothing more than for their bodies to meld together, to lose their individual husks and be fused into one. When they had sex, it was as if he couldn't go deep enough, no matter the strokes. She always wanted more. She had thought that she went to him only to feel alive and, at first, that was true. But the more they were together, the more she wanted him and not just inside her body. She wanted to be able to wake up to him, call him on the phone on her work breaks to say hi, come home to him and have him rub her feet. They were all the things she never really had that she knew he would give to her without a thought but every time those thoughts came to mind, she immediately stomped them down, burying them the only way she knew how. Denial and causing him as much emotional pain as possible. That way, she had convinced herself that, not only was he not the one for her but she did not deserve him. It had been so much easier that way.
"And it almost destroyed us," Buffy whispered to herself as the tears started anew. She thought of all the things that she had said; things she had done to him and the fact that he had forgiven her for all of it. Yet she still didn't forgive herself and didn't know if she ever would. Not completely, at least. So where did that leave her?
'I can't fight my heart forever, Buffy. Rachel had said. And neither should you. As the words tumbled over in her mind, Buffy felt something within her, something she had long thought forgotten reach out to her. It was slow at first, stretching through her with a languid sense that said it had forever. Suddenly, it sped up and it burned the slayer to her core. She doubled over in reflex though there was no physical harm to her. The unidentifiable feeling continued to grow until it felt as if her skin was on fire. So many memories and emotions crashed inside of her, one atop of the other, nonstop. She wrenched her hands together, unable to do much more than that. And just as quickly as it started, it stopped.
Buffy opened her eyes timidly; unsure of what she would see. When she saw that she was still in the foyer, she stood up and walked up the steps, not bothering to turn off the living room light.
Her legs felt so weak as she climbed the steps but she trudged onward. The sluggishness passed as she immersed herself in her nightly rituals. Still, she was tired and after brushing her hair, she would sleep.
"Fifty strokes tonight, guys," she said to her reflection and proceeded to brush.
It happened on the twenty-seventh stroke. There was nothing particularly special about the number but it came none the less. She gasped as if all the air was sucked from her lungs, dropping the brush to the floor. She picked up the brush automatically, and when she glanced back in the mirror, it was like seeing herself for the very first time.
And that was when she knew.
TBC…
There's one, maybe two more chapters left. It's going to be sad when it's finally done but hey, I loved the ride. Hope you guys have, too.