So here we are, darlings. The last golden hour of this story begins and
ends on these few white pages. Ain't it funny how that works? I merely
wanted to print a small warning:
In the next chapter - which is the immediate second part of this one and named Epilogue, End- if you are extremely sensitive to spoilers and as of yet know nothing at all of what may come on this season of Angel you should with great care stop reading by the line which is written as such:
She put her arms up and was about to scream when she felt a hand touch her shoulder and she looked up sharply.
You should then scroll down all the way until the line which reads as this:
"Willow!"
There, you have been fairly warned.
And thus concludes the prelude - I'll see you in the credits.
Here is the TRAppED finale two-part chapter extravaganza. Enjoy!
****************************************************************************
*********************************TRAppED**********************************
Fifty-Two: Epilogue, The
By Annie
2003-08-24
****************************************************************************
Day Seventy.
11.23 p.m.
On a beach not so often frequented by tourists somewhere along the coast of Hawaii.
"You know, I actually like vacationing... at night."
Spike smirked at that comment as he rolled over onto his stomach on the blanket and watched her approaching across the sand, her naked form bathed in silvery moonlight and she looked somewhere close to ethereal. She smiled back as she sunk down on her knees and then leaned forward to kiss him deeply, moving around to stretch out beside him with her lips still locked with his.
"Sorry I can't be part of getting you a fantastic tan," he murmured as they finally broke apart, but she merely smiled again, shaking her head.
"You're making every other part feel 'fantastic', honey," she assured and this time his smirk was filled with self-confidant contentment.
"Happy to hear that, cuteness."
"Happy to say it, lover."
They looked at each other and then both laughed softly before sharing another kiss.
"Wow, I can't believe we're here," she sighed, getting onto her back instead and he moved to lie in the same fashion next to her, both looking up at the almost surreally clear night sky. "I've never been... anywhere... I think."
"I've been everywhere," he replied. "Someday... I'll show you all the places you were meant to see."
"Meant to?"
"A beautiful woman is meant to be shown to the world, love," he stated and she chuckled. "I'm bloody serious!" he cut her off, propping his head in one hand to move and look down at her. She was still smiling. "You were meant to travel. To see..."
"And be seen."
"Naturally."
"And where would we go first?"
He thought for a moment; then tilted his head a little to one side, eyeing her as he answered:
"London."
She observed him back, then reached up a hand and touched his cheek gently.
"Yes," she agreed. "I'd like that. To see where you were born... where you grew up... I'd really like that."
For a moment everything seemed to grow still and there was the sudden sense of unspoken views of feared futures that inevitably passed between them. Both of them knowing that anything could happen between right then and forever. The life they lead, so be it apart or together, was far from normal, wasn't it? And their danger level exceeded that of an average being by eons.
Of course, neither one of them had any actual saying in the matter.
So the moment passed without comment, and they let it go in peace.
He wrapped her in his arms and she closed her eyes as she nestled closer, fitting her body against his.
It felt as though she was dreaming. As though what her mother had predicted would happen had been followed literally as some cosmic joke and in any given second she would wake up and the beach, the ocean noises and the salty air would give way for her bed, for her room and loneliness as she realized none of it had actually taken place.
Then his embrace grew tighter and she knew that she would never have to wake up alone again.
Suddenly she remembered something.
"You know," she said on account of that, "you never did claim your prize."
There was silence for a short minute and then:
"I will."
"'You will'?" she repeated and he nodded. "When?"
"When... it's time to name our first child."
She had to giggle at that, but then she grew serious as she said:
"Spike, we can't..."
"We will," he stopped her sentence and she bit her lower lip as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Have I told you that I love you?" she asked silently and he turned his face to meet her gaze.
"No," he then replied slowly.
"William," she said and he smiled a small smile as she pulled herself up to have her face above his, holding his eyes firmly. "Spike... I love you."
He didn't say anything, merely looked at her for the longest time. And then he held her to him and she rested her head against his chest. Feeling protected and safe. Feeling at home on a blanket on a beach a thousand miles away from where she had created an everyday for herself.
Feeling - more than ever - whole.
***
11.55 p.m.
In Xander's basement.
(Which was only inhabited, for the time being, by a young Wicca in training.)
Willow fought to keep her hands from trembling as she put the thick volume of a large book down on the floor. She knelt down before it and glanced around at the candles she had set out in a square, two on either side across from her and two behind her. They were her only light as she tried to make out the ancient text on the aged pages in front of her.
She couldn't remember a time when she had actually been this nervous about doing a spell. She supposed it was because she had never tried a spell of this caliber before. And she had no real idea if she would be able to pull it off, which also added to the nerves-on-top-of-skin agenda her body obviously had set for her this evening.
She could at least find some comfort in the fact that it had been long and difficult work to find a spell that seemed to suit her needs; she hadn't just taken the first one she happened to come across. She had looked through half the books in Giles' apartment before she thought she had even found the right category.
Now she read the spell one last time, checking that she knew it more or less by heart before she moved to sit with her legs crossed instead.
What she was attempting to do was something none of the others had the slightest clue of, not even Tara. And certainly not Giles. If he had known he wouldn't have let her do it, she was pretty sure of that. But she had to! She had to make sure, for all of their sake. For Buffy's sake. What Angel did to her... it almost destroyed her. And if Spike broke another piece off of her heart... Willow shuddered at the thought. What she had gone through with Oz was enough to spur her in her decision. She wanted to protect her friend, just this once. Buffy was so in love it seemed to take the ground away from under her feet and Willow just had to make sure it didn't come rushing back, tripping her.
Spike... She couldn't trust him. She could like him for who he was now, for whom he had obviously become with Buffy, or whatever forgotten aspect of his being she had managed to wiggle forth. But Willow simply could not trust him.
"Holy Goddess of the Earth," she began to chant. "Bless me with your sight; bless me with your wisdom. Holy Goddess of the Earth, mother of what was and what is to be, bless me with the knowledge of their future."
As she said the last sentence she reached out either hand and touched a picture of Buffy and a T-shirt of Spike's, which he had left at the dorm once. She closed her eyes and reached out with everything in her, praying for a reply.
And suddenly she heard Buffy's voice as clearly as though the owner was standing right beside her. Willow opened her eyes and looked around. Finding herself standing in the living room of Buffy's house.
"...I just don't know what to tell her," Buffy finished and Spike reached out a hand to place it on one of her shoulders comfortingly.
"You'll know when the time's right, love," he said gently and Willow watched Buffy's face slowly put on a smile before the front door suddenly opened and all three of them turned their heads that way.
A young girl walked inside, her expression grim as she stopped and looked at Buffy.
"Great," she muttered. "Thought up a billion other ways to make my life hell; have you?" she added and Buffy raised her eyebrows before the younger simply huffed and continued into the kitchen.
Willow stared. What was going on here?
"No, just the one," Buffy murmured as a reply to the obviously rhetorical question from the younger girl, and Spike shook his head a little.
"You need to have a talk with her... Soon," he remarked and she sighed.
"How do I tell her, Spike?"
"She's still your sister, Buffy. No matter what you have to make her believe that, right?"
Willow stared a bit more.
Sister?
"Of course," Buffy said to Spike's former inquiry before she suddenly looked weary. "I just don't know how."
"Don't worry, cuteness... It'll come to you..."
"...'when the time is right', yeah - you said," she cut in, then she smiled a brighter smile as she stepped into him and he held her to him. "What would I do without you?"
"There's something you definitely needn't waste time frettin' over, pet," he smirked and she looked up at him. "I'm not going anywhere."
Willow smiled a little. She was still profoundly confused by the sister bit - Buffy had never even mentioned siblings of any sort... in fact, Willow was pretty certain that the Slayer had always said she was an only child. But the redhead also knew she needn't dwell on details and when there was a light breeze about her as the scenery changed she simply rolled with it.
Before her was what looked like a badly kept construction sight at the break of day.
She felt such a harsh pang in her chest when she looked up and saw herself crying that she drew a sharp breath. Then she slowly looked around and saw Giles, Xander and Anya, even the sister-figure - all of them in the same state. She couldn't catch the reason until she turned around and saw Spike.
He was cradling Buffy in his arms, his face buried in her blonde locks as his shoulders shook from the expression of his grief. Buffy's face was pale and motionless, yet so very untainted and tranquil. As though all she was doing was sleeping... But she wasn't. She was...
"Oh, my God," Willow whispered, her chest jumbling into a tight bunch as she felt the need to cry as well, but couldn't. "Buffy."
Buffy was dead.
How? How could she be dead? And Spike... Oh, no. No. He looked so lost, so broken, so completely ripped apart as he pulled away to be able to gaze down at his beloved. Willow wanted to reach out to him, to soothe his pain somehow - even when she didn't know where to start with herself.
"I love you," he whispered before gently kissing his Slayer for the last time. "I can never stop loving you... Don't leave me. Please... don't. Buffy!"
And then the sister was by his side, doing what Willow had been unable to as she put her arms around him and cried against his back as she tried to calm him.
Buffy.
There was the sensation of flying as the scene once more changed, this time catching Willow off guard as she had thought the tour to be extremely over. Her heart leapt as she found herself at the foot of the stairs of the Summers residence, looking at Spike who had an expression of complete shock and absolute happiness and glimmering disbelief etched on his face, in his eyes.
At first Willow didn't feel as though she fit the picture together, but then she moved her gaze to what had Spike so stricken and she almost took a step back as what she saw was Buffy - alive. Cautiously walking down the steps and then stopping, staring at Spike as though it was the first time she saw him; but Willow could still see it. That shiver of clear recognition in the others eyes. Still, it was so tentative, so unsure.
Willow didn't even reflect over the fact that she knew what date it was, what time it was, and that it was more than certain that this was after the Slayer had actually been put into the ground. She also had the strangest feeling that she somehow played a part in the acts which had put Buffy back in the center of stage. All of mentioned things she simply knew and therefore found nothing strange about them.
Spike had said something about a coffin, commenting some nasty cuts on Buffy's knuckles and he told... Dawn... to get something to clean the wounds with.
The Slayer and the vamp moved into the living room and sat down facing each other. Buffy on the couch, Spike on the edge of the coffee table. He gently moved his hands to take hers as he kept eyecontact and Willow was utterly fascinated with the mixed emotions circling between them. The air was thick with tension and wonderment and surprise and...
"How long was I gone?"
Willow felt the need to cry again at the sound of her best friend's voice, but merely listened as Spike answered:
"A hundred-and-forty-seven days yesterday... A hundred-and-forty-eight today... Only today doesn't count, does it?" He paused, watching her in stillness before adding: "How long was it for you?"
Buffy rested her eyes in his still, not answering right away as she seemed to want to say something else. Then she replied:
"Longer."
The world spun around the Wicca so fast that she almost lost her balance and she was suddenly in an alley she couldn't at all place.
"You never showed," Spike said and Buffy looked tired as she shook her head a little.
There was a difference to her now than from before. She seemed stronger, more confident. It seemed some of her old self had slipped back in place. Willow felt oddly glad over this fact and wasn't quite sure why, only that it was a good thing to have Buffy be... Buffy. Now that very Buffy was looking at the vampire with an impatient expression in her eyes that felt almost weird as Willow had grown so accustomed over the past month seeing the two lovers so extremely sweet to one another. It had actually bordered on ridiculous at times.
"I'm sorry, okay?" the Slayer said.
"No, it's not," he stated.
"Gonna let me pass?"
"No," he replied firmly. "You can't keep running from me like this."
"Oh, God! Know what? I don't feel like listening to another one of these lectures!"
"Lectures?" he asked, clearly agitated, but also clearly hurt.
"Yes! I'm sorry if you think I'm giving you the cold shoulder, but guess what - being dead does that to you. You just have to learn to deal with it, Spike. I am."
"And all I want is to help..."
"Don't you get it, dammit?! I don't want... I can't..." she trailed off as he had approached her and by the last word came to stand before her, looking down at her.
"I know there's something that's scaring you, Buffy," he murmured. "The few kisses we've shared... I just don't understand what it is. I love you. More than ever, can't you see?"
"Stop it!" she snapped, sidestepping him and continuing on her way. "You don't know me, Spike. No one does. Not anymore."
"I do know you. Is THAT what terrifies you so much? That I might know you better than you know yourself right now?" he stopped her, reaching out a hand and grabbing her arm.
She spun around so fast Willow had a hard time keeping up and in the next instant the Slayer's fist had connected with the vampire's chin. He let her arm go as he seemed to react out of reflex and hit her back so hard she took a step backward. She straightened herself, turning her head so that she could face him again, her eyes wide with questions and rage.
"Don't bloody take it out on me, Slayer," he murmured, meeting her gaze defiantly. "This time I can give back whatever you bloody hand out. I'm not as toothless as you've thought, not anymore..."
"It's a trick," she said in utter abhorrer as well as disbelief. "You did something to the chip. It's a trick."
"It's not a trick. It's not me - it's you. JUST you, in fact... You came back a little less human than you were, didn't you? And that's what has you so sodding spooked!" he gritted through clenched jaws.
"I'm warning you," she replied, voice as low and strained as his was.
"Now, where have I heard that before?"
"Don't push me, Spike."
Willow felt like clamping her hands over her eyes as she could virtually feel the build up for one of their notorious fists-in-faces brewing dreadfully close to the surface now. But she was hypnotized. She had never seen them like this before, not really. And she had to admit that she thought she could sense why the attraction had been born out of the forbidden and shushed. How would they be able to resist each other when...?
Her thought was ended as Buffy delivered the first punch. Spike seemed to hesitate, but then the now furious Slayer went into full-blown attack and he really had no choice but to counter. Buffy grabbed him by the collar and pushed him through a door, bringing them both inside a large building that could be nothing if not partially condemned.
Willow hesitated. It seemed as though she actually had a choice this time. To follow or not to follow was the question. She moved one leg tryingly and when it took the intended step forward she paused again. Looking at the place where the two others had disappeared and feeling torn between performing what she felt would be an enormous invasion of privacy, and...
Why was she questioning it? She had asked to see this.
And in the next instant she had been transported to the room within the building which the Slayer and the Vamp were successfully demolishing.
Spike had just been pushed off the Slayer roughly and she got up and threw herself over him, making him stumble backwards before falling to the floor with her on top of him.
"This brings back memories," he murmured and she got herself propped up on her hands as she looked down at him.
"No happy ones," she replied and his eyes softened noticeably before he remarked:
"I can think of a few."
"If you don't stop..."
"What? You'll hit me some more? Do it, I don't care. Get it all out of your bloody system and once you're done maybe you'll look at me and SEE me, Buffy. I can take anything you do to me, except the silence I keep getting from you."
"Yeah? Well, this isn't sharing hour and I didn't ask to know, did I?"
She got off him and to her feet, he rose as well, observing her keenly as she shook her fall of blonde behind her shoulders and glared at him.
"No, you sure didn't," he grumbled. "But I won't stop pushing you 'til I get some kinda reaction from you, pet."
"My foot in your chest wasn't enough of a reaction for you?" she snapped and he smirked.
She moved forward, but he was faster. He easily ducked away from her swing, grabbed her by the shoulders as he straightened himself up again, and then he tossed her backwards so that she landed hard on the steps of a staircase. He was on her before she could even catch her breath.
"I wasn't planning on hurting you," he said and she hit him over the chin, fighting to get loose.
"You haven't even come close to hurting me," she then hissed with her face put up an inch from his.
"Afraid to give me the chance?" he inquired and she got him off of her with one last upheaval of strength, pushing him away from her as she rolled off the stairs and stood on the floor to face him. "And if you gave it to me, do you honestly bleeding believe I'd take it?" he added and her face was cut in stone as she stared back at him and then he said, with eyes suddenly glistening with tears: "When you died - I died."
"Stop it," she demanded, taking a step back as he took one forward.
"I love you."
"God... don't."
She had stopped moving now, merely glanced up at him wearily as he came to a slow stop before her.
"I'm not her," she whispered. "You're right... You always are, aren't you? I'm different. I FEEL different. I'm not..."
His fingertips slid over her cheek and she closed her eyes, barely shaking her head, though the movement was there.
Time came to a clicking stop as he looked at her for a stretching minute, and then he moved his head forward, joining his lips with hers in a deep kiss and a small noise rose out of her throat before she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Willow smiled a little at the sight, feeling bashful and yet privileged. To witness one of their defining hours was quite intense.
An overwhelming rush poured through her, like chilled rainwater slipping inside her veins, and then she found herself standing in the kitchen of Revello Drive. She knew instantly that this was taking place a few months later and she felt a gush of worry as she listened to the words being exchanged.
In the next chapter - which is the immediate second part of this one and named Epilogue, End- if you are extremely sensitive to spoilers and as of yet know nothing at all of what may come on this season of Angel you should with great care stop reading by the line which is written as such:
She put her arms up and was about to scream when she felt a hand touch her shoulder and she looked up sharply.
You should then scroll down all the way until the line which reads as this:
"Willow!"
There, you have been fairly warned.
And thus concludes the prelude - I'll see you in the credits.
Here is the TRAppED finale two-part chapter extravaganza. Enjoy!
****************************************************************************
*********************************TRAppED**********************************
Fifty-Two: Epilogue, The
By Annie
2003-08-24
****************************************************************************
Day Seventy.
11.23 p.m.
On a beach not so often frequented by tourists somewhere along the coast of Hawaii.
"You know, I actually like vacationing... at night."
Spike smirked at that comment as he rolled over onto his stomach on the blanket and watched her approaching across the sand, her naked form bathed in silvery moonlight and she looked somewhere close to ethereal. She smiled back as she sunk down on her knees and then leaned forward to kiss him deeply, moving around to stretch out beside him with her lips still locked with his.
"Sorry I can't be part of getting you a fantastic tan," he murmured as they finally broke apart, but she merely smiled again, shaking her head.
"You're making every other part feel 'fantastic', honey," she assured and this time his smirk was filled with self-confidant contentment.
"Happy to hear that, cuteness."
"Happy to say it, lover."
They looked at each other and then both laughed softly before sharing another kiss.
"Wow, I can't believe we're here," she sighed, getting onto her back instead and he moved to lie in the same fashion next to her, both looking up at the almost surreally clear night sky. "I've never been... anywhere... I think."
"I've been everywhere," he replied. "Someday... I'll show you all the places you were meant to see."
"Meant to?"
"A beautiful woman is meant to be shown to the world, love," he stated and she chuckled. "I'm bloody serious!" he cut her off, propping his head in one hand to move and look down at her. She was still smiling. "You were meant to travel. To see..."
"And be seen."
"Naturally."
"And where would we go first?"
He thought for a moment; then tilted his head a little to one side, eyeing her as he answered:
"London."
She observed him back, then reached up a hand and touched his cheek gently.
"Yes," she agreed. "I'd like that. To see where you were born... where you grew up... I'd really like that."
For a moment everything seemed to grow still and there was the sudden sense of unspoken views of feared futures that inevitably passed between them. Both of them knowing that anything could happen between right then and forever. The life they lead, so be it apart or together, was far from normal, wasn't it? And their danger level exceeded that of an average being by eons.
Of course, neither one of them had any actual saying in the matter.
So the moment passed without comment, and they let it go in peace.
He wrapped her in his arms and she closed her eyes as she nestled closer, fitting her body against his.
It felt as though she was dreaming. As though what her mother had predicted would happen had been followed literally as some cosmic joke and in any given second she would wake up and the beach, the ocean noises and the salty air would give way for her bed, for her room and loneliness as she realized none of it had actually taken place.
Then his embrace grew tighter and she knew that she would never have to wake up alone again.
Suddenly she remembered something.
"You know," she said on account of that, "you never did claim your prize."
There was silence for a short minute and then:
"I will."
"'You will'?" she repeated and he nodded. "When?"
"When... it's time to name our first child."
She had to giggle at that, but then she grew serious as she said:
"Spike, we can't..."
"We will," he stopped her sentence and she bit her lower lip as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Have I told you that I love you?" she asked silently and he turned his face to meet her gaze.
"No," he then replied slowly.
"William," she said and he smiled a small smile as she pulled herself up to have her face above his, holding his eyes firmly. "Spike... I love you."
He didn't say anything, merely looked at her for the longest time. And then he held her to him and she rested her head against his chest. Feeling protected and safe. Feeling at home on a blanket on a beach a thousand miles away from where she had created an everyday for herself.
Feeling - more than ever - whole.
***
11.55 p.m.
In Xander's basement.
(Which was only inhabited, for the time being, by a young Wicca in training.)
Willow fought to keep her hands from trembling as she put the thick volume of a large book down on the floor. She knelt down before it and glanced around at the candles she had set out in a square, two on either side across from her and two behind her. They were her only light as she tried to make out the ancient text on the aged pages in front of her.
She couldn't remember a time when she had actually been this nervous about doing a spell. She supposed it was because she had never tried a spell of this caliber before. And she had no real idea if she would be able to pull it off, which also added to the nerves-on-top-of-skin agenda her body obviously had set for her this evening.
She could at least find some comfort in the fact that it had been long and difficult work to find a spell that seemed to suit her needs; she hadn't just taken the first one she happened to come across. She had looked through half the books in Giles' apartment before she thought she had even found the right category.
Now she read the spell one last time, checking that she knew it more or less by heart before she moved to sit with her legs crossed instead.
What she was attempting to do was something none of the others had the slightest clue of, not even Tara. And certainly not Giles. If he had known he wouldn't have let her do it, she was pretty sure of that. But she had to! She had to make sure, for all of their sake. For Buffy's sake. What Angel did to her... it almost destroyed her. And if Spike broke another piece off of her heart... Willow shuddered at the thought. What she had gone through with Oz was enough to spur her in her decision. She wanted to protect her friend, just this once. Buffy was so in love it seemed to take the ground away from under her feet and Willow just had to make sure it didn't come rushing back, tripping her.
Spike... She couldn't trust him. She could like him for who he was now, for whom he had obviously become with Buffy, or whatever forgotten aspect of his being she had managed to wiggle forth. But Willow simply could not trust him.
"Holy Goddess of the Earth," she began to chant. "Bless me with your sight; bless me with your wisdom. Holy Goddess of the Earth, mother of what was and what is to be, bless me with the knowledge of their future."
As she said the last sentence she reached out either hand and touched a picture of Buffy and a T-shirt of Spike's, which he had left at the dorm once. She closed her eyes and reached out with everything in her, praying for a reply.
And suddenly she heard Buffy's voice as clearly as though the owner was standing right beside her. Willow opened her eyes and looked around. Finding herself standing in the living room of Buffy's house.
"...I just don't know what to tell her," Buffy finished and Spike reached out a hand to place it on one of her shoulders comfortingly.
"You'll know when the time's right, love," he said gently and Willow watched Buffy's face slowly put on a smile before the front door suddenly opened and all three of them turned their heads that way.
A young girl walked inside, her expression grim as she stopped and looked at Buffy.
"Great," she muttered. "Thought up a billion other ways to make my life hell; have you?" she added and Buffy raised her eyebrows before the younger simply huffed and continued into the kitchen.
Willow stared. What was going on here?
"No, just the one," Buffy murmured as a reply to the obviously rhetorical question from the younger girl, and Spike shook his head a little.
"You need to have a talk with her... Soon," he remarked and she sighed.
"How do I tell her, Spike?"
"She's still your sister, Buffy. No matter what you have to make her believe that, right?"
Willow stared a bit more.
Sister?
"Of course," Buffy said to Spike's former inquiry before she suddenly looked weary. "I just don't know how."
"Don't worry, cuteness... It'll come to you..."
"...'when the time is right', yeah - you said," she cut in, then she smiled a brighter smile as she stepped into him and he held her to him. "What would I do without you?"
"There's something you definitely needn't waste time frettin' over, pet," he smirked and she looked up at him. "I'm not going anywhere."
Willow smiled a little. She was still profoundly confused by the sister bit - Buffy had never even mentioned siblings of any sort... in fact, Willow was pretty certain that the Slayer had always said she was an only child. But the redhead also knew she needn't dwell on details and when there was a light breeze about her as the scenery changed she simply rolled with it.
Before her was what looked like a badly kept construction sight at the break of day.
She felt such a harsh pang in her chest when she looked up and saw herself crying that she drew a sharp breath. Then she slowly looked around and saw Giles, Xander and Anya, even the sister-figure - all of them in the same state. She couldn't catch the reason until she turned around and saw Spike.
He was cradling Buffy in his arms, his face buried in her blonde locks as his shoulders shook from the expression of his grief. Buffy's face was pale and motionless, yet so very untainted and tranquil. As though all she was doing was sleeping... But she wasn't. She was...
"Oh, my God," Willow whispered, her chest jumbling into a tight bunch as she felt the need to cry as well, but couldn't. "Buffy."
Buffy was dead.
How? How could she be dead? And Spike... Oh, no. No. He looked so lost, so broken, so completely ripped apart as he pulled away to be able to gaze down at his beloved. Willow wanted to reach out to him, to soothe his pain somehow - even when she didn't know where to start with herself.
"I love you," he whispered before gently kissing his Slayer for the last time. "I can never stop loving you... Don't leave me. Please... don't. Buffy!"
And then the sister was by his side, doing what Willow had been unable to as she put her arms around him and cried against his back as she tried to calm him.
Buffy.
There was the sensation of flying as the scene once more changed, this time catching Willow off guard as she had thought the tour to be extremely over. Her heart leapt as she found herself at the foot of the stairs of the Summers residence, looking at Spike who had an expression of complete shock and absolute happiness and glimmering disbelief etched on his face, in his eyes.
At first Willow didn't feel as though she fit the picture together, but then she moved her gaze to what had Spike so stricken and she almost took a step back as what she saw was Buffy - alive. Cautiously walking down the steps and then stopping, staring at Spike as though it was the first time she saw him; but Willow could still see it. That shiver of clear recognition in the others eyes. Still, it was so tentative, so unsure.
Willow didn't even reflect over the fact that she knew what date it was, what time it was, and that it was more than certain that this was after the Slayer had actually been put into the ground. She also had the strangest feeling that she somehow played a part in the acts which had put Buffy back in the center of stage. All of mentioned things she simply knew and therefore found nothing strange about them.
Spike had said something about a coffin, commenting some nasty cuts on Buffy's knuckles and he told... Dawn... to get something to clean the wounds with.
The Slayer and the vamp moved into the living room and sat down facing each other. Buffy on the couch, Spike on the edge of the coffee table. He gently moved his hands to take hers as he kept eyecontact and Willow was utterly fascinated with the mixed emotions circling between them. The air was thick with tension and wonderment and surprise and...
"How long was I gone?"
Willow felt the need to cry again at the sound of her best friend's voice, but merely listened as Spike answered:
"A hundred-and-forty-seven days yesterday... A hundred-and-forty-eight today... Only today doesn't count, does it?" He paused, watching her in stillness before adding: "How long was it for you?"
Buffy rested her eyes in his still, not answering right away as she seemed to want to say something else. Then she replied:
"Longer."
The world spun around the Wicca so fast that she almost lost her balance and she was suddenly in an alley she couldn't at all place.
"You never showed," Spike said and Buffy looked tired as she shook her head a little.
There was a difference to her now than from before. She seemed stronger, more confident. It seemed some of her old self had slipped back in place. Willow felt oddly glad over this fact and wasn't quite sure why, only that it was a good thing to have Buffy be... Buffy. Now that very Buffy was looking at the vampire with an impatient expression in her eyes that felt almost weird as Willow had grown so accustomed over the past month seeing the two lovers so extremely sweet to one another. It had actually bordered on ridiculous at times.
"I'm sorry, okay?" the Slayer said.
"No, it's not," he stated.
"Gonna let me pass?"
"No," he replied firmly. "You can't keep running from me like this."
"Oh, God! Know what? I don't feel like listening to another one of these lectures!"
"Lectures?" he asked, clearly agitated, but also clearly hurt.
"Yes! I'm sorry if you think I'm giving you the cold shoulder, but guess what - being dead does that to you. You just have to learn to deal with it, Spike. I am."
"And all I want is to help..."
"Don't you get it, dammit?! I don't want... I can't..." she trailed off as he had approached her and by the last word came to stand before her, looking down at her.
"I know there's something that's scaring you, Buffy," he murmured. "The few kisses we've shared... I just don't understand what it is. I love you. More than ever, can't you see?"
"Stop it!" she snapped, sidestepping him and continuing on her way. "You don't know me, Spike. No one does. Not anymore."
"I do know you. Is THAT what terrifies you so much? That I might know you better than you know yourself right now?" he stopped her, reaching out a hand and grabbing her arm.
She spun around so fast Willow had a hard time keeping up and in the next instant the Slayer's fist had connected with the vampire's chin. He let her arm go as he seemed to react out of reflex and hit her back so hard she took a step backward. She straightened herself, turning her head so that she could face him again, her eyes wide with questions and rage.
"Don't bloody take it out on me, Slayer," he murmured, meeting her gaze defiantly. "This time I can give back whatever you bloody hand out. I'm not as toothless as you've thought, not anymore..."
"It's a trick," she said in utter abhorrer as well as disbelief. "You did something to the chip. It's a trick."
"It's not a trick. It's not me - it's you. JUST you, in fact... You came back a little less human than you were, didn't you? And that's what has you so sodding spooked!" he gritted through clenched jaws.
"I'm warning you," she replied, voice as low and strained as his was.
"Now, where have I heard that before?"
"Don't push me, Spike."
Willow felt like clamping her hands over her eyes as she could virtually feel the build up for one of their notorious fists-in-faces brewing dreadfully close to the surface now. But she was hypnotized. She had never seen them like this before, not really. And she had to admit that she thought she could sense why the attraction had been born out of the forbidden and shushed. How would they be able to resist each other when...?
Her thought was ended as Buffy delivered the first punch. Spike seemed to hesitate, but then the now furious Slayer went into full-blown attack and he really had no choice but to counter. Buffy grabbed him by the collar and pushed him through a door, bringing them both inside a large building that could be nothing if not partially condemned.
Willow hesitated. It seemed as though she actually had a choice this time. To follow or not to follow was the question. She moved one leg tryingly and when it took the intended step forward she paused again. Looking at the place where the two others had disappeared and feeling torn between performing what she felt would be an enormous invasion of privacy, and...
Why was she questioning it? She had asked to see this.
And in the next instant she had been transported to the room within the building which the Slayer and the Vamp were successfully demolishing.
Spike had just been pushed off the Slayer roughly and she got up and threw herself over him, making him stumble backwards before falling to the floor with her on top of him.
"This brings back memories," he murmured and she got herself propped up on her hands as she looked down at him.
"No happy ones," she replied and his eyes softened noticeably before he remarked:
"I can think of a few."
"If you don't stop..."
"What? You'll hit me some more? Do it, I don't care. Get it all out of your bloody system and once you're done maybe you'll look at me and SEE me, Buffy. I can take anything you do to me, except the silence I keep getting from you."
"Yeah? Well, this isn't sharing hour and I didn't ask to know, did I?"
She got off him and to her feet, he rose as well, observing her keenly as she shook her fall of blonde behind her shoulders and glared at him.
"No, you sure didn't," he grumbled. "But I won't stop pushing you 'til I get some kinda reaction from you, pet."
"My foot in your chest wasn't enough of a reaction for you?" she snapped and he smirked.
She moved forward, but he was faster. He easily ducked away from her swing, grabbed her by the shoulders as he straightened himself up again, and then he tossed her backwards so that she landed hard on the steps of a staircase. He was on her before she could even catch her breath.
"I wasn't planning on hurting you," he said and she hit him over the chin, fighting to get loose.
"You haven't even come close to hurting me," she then hissed with her face put up an inch from his.
"Afraid to give me the chance?" he inquired and she got him off of her with one last upheaval of strength, pushing him away from her as she rolled off the stairs and stood on the floor to face him. "And if you gave it to me, do you honestly bleeding believe I'd take it?" he added and her face was cut in stone as she stared back at him and then he said, with eyes suddenly glistening with tears: "When you died - I died."
"Stop it," she demanded, taking a step back as he took one forward.
"I love you."
"God... don't."
She had stopped moving now, merely glanced up at him wearily as he came to a slow stop before her.
"I'm not her," she whispered. "You're right... You always are, aren't you? I'm different. I FEEL different. I'm not..."
His fingertips slid over her cheek and she closed her eyes, barely shaking her head, though the movement was there.
Time came to a clicking stop as he looked at her for a stretching minute, and then he moved his head forward, joining his lips with hers in a deep kiss and a small noise rose out of her throat before she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Willow smiled a little at the sight, feeling bashful and yet privileged. To witness one of their defining hours was quite intense.
An overwhelming rush poured through her, like chilled rainwater slipping inside her veins, and then she found herself standing in the kitchen of Revello Drive. She knew instantly that this was taking place a few months later and she felt a gush of worry as she listened to the words being exchanged.