What is Choice?
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13 mostly, with one NC-17 epilogue.
Spoilers: Through Chosen.
Author's Note: Spike/Buffy, but only kinda. This story is a bit odd. Also posted on my website(http://lostinwonderland.org/buffy/fanfic.html).
Chapter for this title comes from the Depeche Mode song "Just Can't Get Enough."
Chapter Six: We Slip and Slide as We Fall in Love
At moments during the past two months, Buffy had closed her eyes and wondered if there was some higher power she could thank for what she had in her life.
Because for the first time in her memory, she was completely happy.
Her job was going well. School was good. Dawn was getting good grades and was cheerful and optimistic.
And out of all the good things in her life right now, Will was the best thing.
She couldn't believe that she was actually involved in a healthy, adult relationship. She had always been afraid, since Angel, that she'd never be able to have another relationship that came close to that first love. She knew that was definitely the problem with Riley; although he had loved her, she couldn't love him because she was still dealing with her feelings for Angel, not to mention all the baggage from being a Slayer in love with a vampire. She had dated after Riley had left, and in the time since the Hellmouth had been closed, but no one ever seemed to capture her interest, much less make her want to open up.
Will, however . . . being around him was like being given truth serum. It wasn't that she
found herself confessing all her dark secrets to him, although on occasion, something she'd prefer to keep hidden did slip out. No, it was more that being with him allowed her to be true to herself for the first time in her life. She had never really felt like she showed the world her true face, not even when she was with Willow or Xander or even Dawn. At one time, she'd been pretty honest with Giles, but the fall-out from their disagreements over how to battle the First had affected that relationship, and she no longer felt secure with him.
Yet she just had to walk into a room, and see Will, and she could feel her masks falling away. Suddenly, she wasn't just a young woman with eyes much older than they should be. She wasn't using her duty and responsibilities to hide her feelings, or express them in a way that she felt comfortable with but wasn't enough for the recipient. Instead, she was
just Buffy. Someone who was strong, both emotionally and physically. Someone who knew what she wanted, and knew how to make someone happy.
Of course, she hadn't let all her secrets out. She still hadn't told Will about her past. He knew that she had lived in Sunnydale, and had managed to get out in the nick of time, before the "sinkhole" devoured the town. But she hadn't explained why she had stayed till the last minute, when everyone else had been "evacuated". No, her life as a Slayer had remained carefully concealed from Will. She just couldn't think about how to broach the subject with him. He was open-minded, sure, but was he open-minded enough to accept the idea that vampires were real? That she had super-human strength? That there was always the chance that she'd be needed to help stop an apocalypse, and she could die? No, that was a topic of discussion that Buffy prefered to ignore. She had a great life now, with all the things that a girl could want: job, apartment, school, family, and boyfriend. Why jinx things?
Buffy let her thoughts move away from such troubling matters to happier memories. Their first weekend together had been wonderful. Her minor freak-out aside, she had felt so comfortable with him. They had a wonderful time on Saturday night, having dinner and then visiting the Getty Museum, taking in the lovely views of Los Angeles. Before Will had left on Sunday, they had brunch together. She had been nervous about meeting his mother, but Mrs. Smythe, or Anne as she insisted that Buffy call her, had been a lovely woman.
And when they said goodbye, he had given her a kiss that still made her toes curl when she thought about it.
That was what made her the happiest about their relationship: she felt so at ease with him. During their long phone calls, they could talk about anything. He'd mention his book, and how well it was going, and even asked for her advice at times. It was so flattering, to know that he wanted her opinion. To make it even better, he excited her more than any man ever had. Some times, he just had to look at her, and she could feel her muscles clenching, her arousal hitting her like a freight train.
Buffy sighed and gazed out the window, ignoring the economics textbook that sat in front of her on the kitchen table. After that weekend, she had known that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Will. Phone calls weren't enough, even when they lasted for two and a half hours and forced her to work extra hours so she could afford the long distance bill. The Fates had smiled on her, and two weeks later, she had a free weekend. So she went down to San Diego, with hope in her heart, butterflies in her stomach, and her sexiest lingerie in her overnight bag.
The Friday night she arrived, they had gone out for dinner at a seafood place near Will's house. The restaurant faced the water, with large windows that gave the place an airy, casual feel. Buffy felt overdressed at first, but every time she looked at Will, his eyes told her that she was beautiful. Anytime her nerves started twitching, she looked at him and felt her self-confidence rise. He made her feel like she had a power greater than Slayer strength: her personality, her looks, her soul, seemed to work some kind of magic over him. But it was a mutual feeling; she was under his spell just as much as he was under hers.
The night progressed, and she was caught in a hazy, languid dream-like state, full of steamy looks and lingering touches. He fed her shrimp, and she sucked on his fingers, saying it was to get the last of the cocktail sauce, but really because she just wanted to taste him. They ate lobster, letting the butter trickle down their chins only to be wiped away by the other's fingers. Dessert was a sinfully rich chocolate cake. Buffy lifted a piece of cake to his mouth, and when he took the fork into his mouth, gazing at her as he dragged his lips from the utensil, she toyed with the desire to knock the table aside and attack him.
Instead, she waited until they got back to his house, and then attacked him.
God, it was good between them. She wasn't that experienced, and she'd certainly never explored her sexuality. None of her boyfriends in the past seemed eager to go beyond the basics, so she'd just made do. But Will seemed intent to find any spot on her body that gave her pleasure, and then lick, stroke, kiss, or otherwise touch each of those spots as often as he could. And when he finally slid into her, they both stilled, staring into each other's eyes. It was like finding a beautiful pearl after looking in a sea of oysters. She nearly started crying, because it was so sweet and tender and hot and blissful and sad. But she just wrapped her arms around him, and said, "When you touch me, I want to live forever."
Will groaned, his eyes dropping shut, before he started moving. He leaned down and kissed her, and his voice was strained when he said, "It's . . . like . . . I can only . . . breathe . . . when I'm with . . . you." His gasps punctuated his statement, and she kissed his eyelids, wishing she could somehow draw him even closer to her.
After that, there was no way in hell that she was letting him get away. She had woken up the next morning, to find he had snuggled up against her, his hand laying across her stomach. The only thought in her head was, 'I can't ever give this up.' So they had spent that weekend in bed, occasionally venturing out for food or a short trip to the beach. The weekend had been full of sex, yes, but there also smiles and jokes and those post-coital conversations where anything and everything seemed to take on a new significance and importance.
Ever since, they had managed to see each other nearly every weekend. Even if it was only for a day, due to work schedules and other responsibilities, they managed to sneak away and find time to be together. Sometimes, they didn't even make love; they would just fall asleep together. Yet she always had the same thought when she woke up: 'I can't mess this up.'
Her happiness seemed only matched by her fears. She worried that he would get in an accident on his way to see her. She wondered if she was enough for him. She feared that he would sell his book, become world-famous, and decide to hook up with the women who'd be throwing themselves at him. She even fretted that one day, he would get tired of dealing with a woman who was raising an always-underfoot teenager and find someone else with less complications. Buffy knew that he liked and cared about Dawn, and he had made no secret of how happy she made him, both in and out of bed. So she didn't know why she worried so much. Yet she did.
Buffy shook her head, and tried to snap herself out of dreamland. Four chapters of economic policy and theory weren't going to get read if she spent all her time staring out the window and thinking about Will. She grinned, and muttered, "But the time would go by a lot faster then," before determinedly focusing her attention on her textbook. She had read all of one paragraph when the phone rang.
With a giggle, Buffy jumped up and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"
"You sound particularly happy, love," Will's voice purred through the phone. "Could it be because of a phone call from yours truly?"
She grinned as she stretched the phone cord as far as it could reach, and sat back down at the kitchen table. "Actually, it's because you've saved me from probably the driest textbook ever written, on the driest subject in existence. You could have been a telemarketer, and I would have happily listened to your pitch for aluminum siding."
"Humph," Will said. "Well, see if I talk dirty to you tonight, then."
"Don't pout, Will," she said, restraining her urge to giggle. "It's wasted if I'm not there to see it in person."
Suddenly, she heard a knock at the front door. "Oh, shoot, hold on--there's someone at the door." She dropped the phone on the table, and hurried over to the door, looking through the peephole. All she saw was red, so she frowned, slid the chain lock on, and opened the door.
Will grinned at her, thrusting a huge bouquet of roses at her. She felt her mouth drop open, and she stared at him for a moment, before quickly slamming the door shut, knocking the chain aside, and throwing the door open. She wrapped her arms around him, dimly hearing his cell phone drop to the floor. "What are you doing here? It's only Wednesday! I thought I was coming down on Saturday to see you."
Will handed her the roses, and bent over to pick up his cell phone. He moved into her apartment, and she saw that he had his overnight bag over his shoulder, as well as a bottle of champagne in his hand. "I couldn't wait, Buffy. I have such good news!"
She followed him into the kitchen, watching him drop his bag and shrug out of his jacket on the way. Once in the kitchen, he hung up her phone, grabbed two flutes out of her cabinet, and poured the champagne. He grinned at her as he handed her a glass.
"First, take a sip." She raised an eyebrow at him, but savored a bit of the bubbly wine, watching as he gulped a mouthful. Then, he took her other hand in his, and said, "I sold my book."
"Oh my God, Will!" Buffy exclaimed, not caring about the glass of champagne she held as she once again threw her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! When did you find out?"
Will squeezed her tightly, and his voice sounded so happy when he replied. "Found out this morning, love. First thing I did was call in sick for the next couple of days, and then I hopped in the car. All I could think about was telling you."
Buffy pulled back, and kissed him, their lips caressing. They paused for breath, and she closed her eyes, and just breathed in the combination of scents that now screamed 'Will' at her. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her.
"It's all because of you that the book was finished. When I'm with you, it's like I can fly. So when I sit down to write, I just remember how you make me feel, and the words just pour out of me. God, I love you."
Buffy gasped, staring at him. Will ducked his head, blushing a bit, but kept his eyes fixed on her. He reached and found one of her hands, and squeezed it. "I love you, Buffy," he said, his voice rough.
She bit her lip, trying not to let out the tears that were forming. She couldn't believe that he was the first one to say it. He had made her so happy, made her into this new person who was very similiar to the Buffy she had been before becoming the Slayer. She owed so much to him, but she still hadn't really let him all the way into her soul, her heart. Hadn't given him the weapon of her love, a weapon that he could use to destroy her. Instead, he had given her the power. And she felt so strong, and so trusted, that there was only one choice for her, even if she felt her heart pounding and that tiny voice in the back of her head, warning her to keep her distance, that it wasn't worth the pain . . .
She cupped his cheek in her hand, and tried to make her eyes express everything that she was feeling. He was staring at her, his heart in his eyes, looking so hopeful yet so sad that she found she wasn't that scared, after all.
"I love you, too."
Will sighed happily, his hands rubbing light circles on her hips. "God, that sounds bloody amazing."
She giggled, and kissed his nose. "I love you," she said, feeling like she had just won the lottery.
He grinned at her. "And that sounds even better." He swooped down, and kissed her within an inch of her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relying on his strength to keep her steady. Keep her protected, keep her loved.
Buffy pulled away, and rested her forehead against his chest. "So, when do I get to see this masterpiece?" she asked, tracing his bicep.
"Tonight, if you like. I brought a print-out. Thought you could look at it in-between the gifts and massive amounts of sex I'm going to give you for the next four days."
Buffy giggled. "You don't have to give me the sex, you know. The gifts would be more than enough."
Will growled at her, and slapped her bottom lightly. "Cease and desist, woman."
Buffy laughed and pulled away from him. "Dawn's baby-sitting tonight, so she won't be home till ten. Wanna order in and veg out in front of the TV?"
"Wanted to take you out to a nice, fancy place," Will said. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he grinned at her devilishly. "But if we stay home, you could read the book and then give me massive amounts of stroking. Both my ego and . . . other parts of me."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Can we please stop thinking about sex? Gosh, you sell a book and you become a big old sex machine. You want pizza or Chinese?"
Will flashed her a huge grin, and said, "Pizza works for me. Do you mind if I take a shower, love? Book's in my bag, if you want to read."
Buffy, already on the phone, waved her hand towards her bathroom, and Will dropped a kiss on her forehead, before he pulled some clothes out of his bag and left the kitchen.
After she hung up the phone, Buffy made a beeline for his duffle bag, and found a large accordion file. She pulled it out, and happily shoved aside her economics books to make a place for the file. She looked through the various compartments, and found the first chapters.
Buffy set the papers down on the table and leaned forward, propping her chin up with her hands, her elbows set on the table. With anticipation, she started reading.
**
The sound of the shower turning off broke Buffy out of the disbelieving daze she had fallen into as she had read Will's book. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. His book . . . it was like someone had taken her life, changed some details, and made the main character male. Her introduction to her first Watcher, her battle with the Master, even Xander and Willow--it was all there.
Buffy shook her head. 'How did he know? How did he find out?' she wondered, confused and disturbed. She didn't understand what was going on. She was still working up the courage to start talking to him about her life as a Slayer, but it was like she shouldn't have worried about it, because somehow, he knew. How else could he have gotten the details so perfectly?
She felt a swirling fear churning in her belly. She was so scared. Scared that if he found out how much she had really inspired him, that he wouldn't want her anymore. Wouldn't love her. If he knew the truth about her, how could he ever accept it? No guy would be willing to be with a girl who was stronger than he was.
Plus, did being his "inspiration" mean that he was only with her because of the book? And now that the book was done, did that mean things were going to change? Was he going to leave? She couldn't bear that thought. She was finally getting her life together, and he was a big part of it--the biggest. If he had betrayed her, what did that mean?
When he walked into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight of her. "Oh, good, you're reading it! What do you think?"
It used to amaze her, how he could seem so confident but then turn on a dime and become self-conscious and unsure. She had thought it was charming and wonderful.
Now, it made her mad.
'Bastard,' she thought. 'How the hell did he find this out? Does he think this is just some game? He thinks that I'm going to stand by and let him show my past to the world, for others to laugh at? No way in hell!'
"What the hell is this?" she asked, the fear and anger affecting her so much that her voice was icy-cold.
Will looked at her in surprise. "What? It's . . . it's my book."
Buffy moved towards him, holding a page in her hand. "How'd you get the idea? What made you think, 'Hmm, a teenage boy who fights demons and vampires, assisted only by his Guide and his friends'? Why have his first battle be against a vampire older than old, with," she glanced at the paper, "'snake eyes and grape juice mouth'? How, Will?"
Will seemed surprised, and he backed up against the counter as she came even closer towards him. "I don't really know! It just came to me one day . . . I started working on it right before I met you. In fact, I wrote the first few pages the day I met you."
She turned away from him, tossing the sheet of paper on the table. "Have you been talking to Dawn? Has she been telling you about my life before? In Sunnydale?"
"What? No!" Will sputtered. When she glared at him, he said, "Well, I mean, she said she was telling me 'Buffy's dark little secrets,' but nothing like this! Just things like how much you love ice skating, and your favorite ice cream is anything with chocolate in it."
"Then who have you been talking to?" she screamed at him. She felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and she flew at him, pounding her fists into his chest. "Who told you? How did you know? How did you find out about me?" Buffy laid her head on his chest, sobbing. "I thought I was finally done baking. I thought I had gotten everything figured out. Job, school, friends, and as the cherry on top of the sundae, a wonderful, sexy, caring boyfriend." She sniffed, and pushed herself away from him, not caring about the confused, stricken look on his face.
Buffy didn't care about anything except the pain she felt. She had been betrayed by someone, one of her nearest and dearest. He had found out about her. She didn't know why he taunted her over her failures with the cruel trick of the book, but she couldn't bear this. Couldn't bear the thought that her dream, of happy ever after and a normal life, was ending.
She felt Will's hands on her shoulders. "Buffy, love, sweetheart, I don't understand. What do you mean, 'how did I find out about you?' Did something in the book remind you of something?"
She snorted. "Oh, yeah, the book reminded me of something. My whole life." She whirled around and faced him again, not caring that her tears had made her mascara run and that her nose was probably red. "Your little flight of fancy just happens to be my life. Sure, the main character is a guy, and there's some different names and all. But . . ." she paused, sniffing and trying to control her voice, to get rid of that telltale quaver. "But, that all happened to me. I fought a Master vampire and died. I sent my first boyfriend to hell, because sleeping with me let out his demon. I only got that far, but I'm guessing the whole book is going to be like that . . . every single one of my lowest points, my greatest failures, chronicled for other people's entertainment."
Will looked utterly amazed. "What the hell are you talking about? My book is your life?"
She merely nodded, and Will stared at her for a moment, before beginning to pace around the kitchen. He stopped after he walked the length of the kitchen a few times, and turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. His voice was incredulous, and even a bit angry. "You're saying, that everything in the book happened to you? So there's really vampires and monsters? And you, all five foot two of you, fought them?" He snorted. "What's really going on, Buffy?"
He dropped the hands from his hips, and stepped towards her, placing his hands on her arms. "Is this about what we said? Because if it was too soon, we can take a step back. But don't . . . don't use such a stupid excuse for being scared. I'm scared, too."
Buffy sighed. He didn't get it. She felt the tears forming in her eyes again. "Will, I don't know how this is possible. How you could know so much. It's impossible. And I want to trust you. I do. I just . . . can't be around you tonight. It's too much."
Will shook his head. "Buffy, no. I should stay--we can talk about this. You can tell me anything you want, ask me anything you need to know. You can't shut me out like this." He moved his hands from her arms to her face, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "Buffy, if you send me away tonight, this could be it. It'll be too easy to pull away and just let this divide us. I don't know how this has happened. I don't know if I believe you, that what I wrote is your life." He sighed, and continued. "But I'm willing to listen to you, when you explain it to me. But I need the explanations, Buffy. We have to talk this out. I can't let you break us up over this. I love you too much to let you walk away."
Buffy leaned in, resting her head on his chest again. She breathed deeply, trying to control her sobs for a moment. "Will, I just can't. Please, give me tonight. I promise you, we can talk tomorrow. I need to figure things out on my own first. Tomorrow, we can talk. If you have to tie me to the bed, we can talk about this all tomorrow. But I can't do it tonight."
Buffy stopped talking, afraid to look at him. She didn't know what to do. She knew he was right; they did need to talk. But if they did it tonight, she knew she'd say something that would destroy both of them. He had to leave. Had to leave before she made things even worse.
She felt Will's breath on her forehead. He was breathing heavily, like he was trying not to cry. She sniffed, and finally managed to pull herself together enough to look at him.
She wished she hadn't, when she saw his face. He looked devastated. Like his heart was being broken, and he didn't even know why. She felt the tears welling up again. "Oh, God, Will, please, just go. Go before I make things even worse."
Will stared at her for a moment, like he didn't understand why he was there, or what she was saying. Then, without a word, he stepped away from her. He walked into the kitchen, and she could hear him picking up his things and shuffling the papers of his book. Then, he walked out of the kitchen, and walked down the hall. He paused, and looked back towards her.
"I love you. Don't forget that."
She looked at him, then dropped her eyes. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't watch him walk out of her apartment. Walk out of her life.
She heard the door close, and she dropped to her knees. The sobs came fast, so powerful that she couldn't breathe. She wailed, unable to believe what was happening. Because despite his words, she didn't know what to remember, what to forget, what to believe.
And she kept hearing that little voice, in the back of her head, taunting her. 'Told you it'd hurt . . . never should have said 'I love you' . . . you always make them leave . . . '
**
Buffy turned, confused. The last thing she remembered, she was laying on the floor of her living room, exhausted from her sobbing. She had stared at the carpet, feeling miserable. Now, though, she seemed to be outside, in a forest.
"Welcome, Chosen One."
Buffy whirled around, and saw three women standing in front of her. They were all beautiful, and dressed in . . . togas?
Buffy frowned. "Okay, this is a very weird dream. I was in the middle of a personal crisis, and while it's nice to get a break, this isn't exactly what I would have thought I'd get."
One of the women sighed and rolled her eyes. She stage-whispered, "This is why I don't like dealing with mortals. Such limited comprehension."
The woman next to her nudged her, and then stepped forward. "We have called you forth, to this place, to open your eyes. You have been blinded, for reasons that are beyond your understanding. But these reasons are now more hindrance than help."
Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just a simple girl who was once a Slayer. You want to make that a little more vague?"
The first woman made what sounded much like a snort, and the second woman sighed and then continued. "After the final battle, with the First Evil, we stepped in to alter your life, much as your life was altered by the Monks of Dagon, to explain the existence of the Key. Instead of implanting a person and memories, however, we removed a person's presence from your life."
Buffy stared at the woman, not understanding. "Um . . . excuse me? How is that even possible?" she asked, her voice shaking. Her mind was reeling at this possibility. What did this mean? Who had been taken from her?
"How this was accomplished is beyond your comprehension," the woman replied airily.
"Okay, I'm getting tired of getting knocked for being human," Buffy said, stomping her foot. "Tell me, now, who you took and how you did it."
The first woman asked suddenly, "How did you defeat Angelus, Slayer?"
Buffy frowned, looking at her. "How did I defeat Angelus? I sent him to Hell, even though Willow had restored his soul, because Alfalfa had already opened."
The woman sighed heavily. "But what about Drusilla? How were you able to defeat Drusilla, in order to confront Angelus?"
"What? I . . ." Buffy's voice trailed off, as she realized she didn't know. Couldn't remember how Drusilla had been taken care of so she could deal with Angelus.
"Now you are beginning to see," the second woman commented softly. "The first step is realizing that a deletion has occurred."
Buffy found herself sitting on a small chair. She bit her lip, and twisted her hands in her lap. "Okay, I see what you're getting at," she said, feeling confused and worried.
The second woman nodded approvingly. "You are much brighter than anyone, even yourself, has ever given you credit for."
"If I'm so smart, why didn't I realize this before?" Buffy said, feeling a wave of self-doubt crash over her.
"You could not have known, Slayer. We are only choosing to remove the veil now, at this point, because of what occurred in your reality in the last few of your hours," said the snippy one.
Buffy started. "You mean, with Will? And his book?"
"Precisely," she continued. "This was an unforseen consequence of an action we took regarding the person we removed from your life."
The kind woman stepped forward, and sat next to Buffy in an identical chair. "You do not realize who we are. We are the Fates. We are responsible for spinning the thread of life, and cutting it, for each mortal in existence. It is a simple task, really. Even for Slayers who persist in coming back to life." She reached over and patted Buffy's hand.
Buffy smiled weakly, at the woman's attempt of a joke. The woman continued. "Yet, every so often, something occurs and our judgement is flawed, our decision in conflict with the greater forces of the universe--the Powers that Be. In those cases, we must choose how to best resolve the conflict."
Buffy frowned, puzzling over the woman's words. "Did this conflict affect the person removed from my life?"
The woman smiled. "Yes. Our solution was to reward the soul in question with another chance at life. The first lifetime for the soul had been . . . convoluted. Yet the soul's mortal existence was terminated with an act of self-sacrifice so noble, so pure, that we could not let the soul wink out of existence. Thus, we gave the soul another vessel, similiar to the first. We gave it new memories, and set it down in California. Because this soul's mate was in California, still existing."
Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, but why did you do all that? I mean, wouldn't there be a chance for this person to come in contact with its soul mate, and make a big old mess? It'd be like on an episode of Star Trek, when they time travel and mess things up and create a paraflox or something."
"Normally, you would at least be partially correct. It would create errors. In fact, it has. But we chose to risk the errors, because being close to its soul mate was part of the reward for the disputed soul."
Buffy sighed. "I still don't understand."
The third woman, who had remained silent during the conversation, stepped forward. Buffy looked at her in confusion, and the woman drew near and bent down. She looked into Buffy's eyes, and uttered a single word.
"Remember."
Buffy stared at the woman, and the woman smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss against Buffy's forehead.
And in a flash of color and sound, Buffy realized what was missing from her life. Who was missing. A cocky smirk. A black leather duster. A tender look. Blue eyes that could shift from violence to love in a second. Fangs. Anger. Hurt. Regret. Love.
Yet some of these things were familiar to her. She knew them. Knew those eyes, knew that look. Had felt that love.
And then, the rest of the explanation whirled through her.
Buffy's eyes, which had closed involuntarily, popped open. She stared at the women, who had all stood before her now. They looked at her with sympathy and understanding.
"I remember. I know," Buffy choked out.
The three women spoke as one. "You have a difficult choice ahead of you, Slayer. Choose the truth, and risk pain. Choose the lie, and risk pain. You may be rewarded or punished. Your fate, and the fate of the one once known as Spike, and now known as Will, is out of our hands now. You are making your own fate, your own choice. Remember what you have been told before, by the representative of the Powers that Be, and you will be able to make your own destiny."
"What? What representative of the Powers?" Buffy asked, confused.
The Fates looked towards their left. Buffy followed their gaze, and saw the First Slayer. She was back in that moment that happened four years ago, sitting by a fire in the middle of the desert.
The First Slayer stalked towards her. "You love with all your heart. It is brighter than the fire. Love, give, forgive. Love will lead you to your gift."
Buffy frowned, remembering the next words. "And death is my gift?"
The First Slayer shook her head. "No. He is your gift."
End, Chapter Six
By Melissa(dettiot@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13 mostly, with one NC-17 epilogue.
Spoilers: Through Chosen.
Author's Note: Spike/Buffy, but only kinda. This story is a bit odd. Also posted on my website(http://lostinwonderland.org/buffy/fanfic.html).
Chapter for this title comes from the Depeche Mode song "Just Can't Get Enough."
Chapter Six: We Slip and Slide as We Fall in Love
At moments during the past two months, Buffy had closed her eyes and wondered if there was some higher power she could thank for what she had in her life.
Because for the first time in her memory, she was completely happy.
Her job was going well. School was good. Dawn was getting good grades and was cheerful and optimistic.
And out of all the good things in her life right now, Will was the best thing.
She couldn't believe that she was actually involved in a healthy, adult relationship. She had always been afraid, since Angel, that she'd never be able to have another relationship that came close to that first love. She knew that was definitely the problem with Riley; although he had loved her, she couldn't love him because she was still dealing with her feelings for Angel, not to mention all the baggage from being a Slayer in love with a vampire. She had dated after Riley had left, and in the time since the Hellmouth had been closed, but no one ever seemed to capture her interest, much less make her want to open up.
Will, however . . . being around him was like being given truth serum. It wasn't that she
found herself confessing all her dark secrets to him, although on occasion, something she'd prefer to keep hidden did slip out. No, it was more that being with him allowed her to be true to herself for the first time in her life. She had never really felt like she showed the world her true face, not even when she was with Willow or Xander or even Dawn. At one time, she'd been pretty honest with Giles, but the fall-out from their disagreements over how to battle the First had affected that relationship, and she no longer felt secure with him.
Yet she just had to walk into a room, and see Will, and she could feel her masks falling away. Suddenly, she wasn't just a young woman with eyes much older than they should be. She wasn't using her duty and responsibilities to hide her feelings, or express them in a way that she felt comfortable with but wasn't enough for the recipient. Instead, she was
just Buffy. Someone who was strong, both emotionally and physically. Someone who knew what she wanted, and knew how to make someone happy.
Of course, she hadn't let all her secrets out. She still hadn't told Will about her past. He knew that she had lived in Sunnydale, and had managed to get out in the nick of time, before the "sinkhole" devoured the town. But she hadn't explained why she had stayed till the last minute, when everyone else had been "evacuated". No, her life as a Slayer had remained carefully concealed from Will. She just couldn't think about how to broach the subject with him. He was open-minded, sure, but was he open-minded enough to accept the idea that vampires were real? That she had super-human strength? That there was always the chance that she'd be needed to help stop an apocalypse, and she could die? No, that was a topic of discussion that Buffy prefered to ignore. She had a great life now, with all the things that a girl could want: job, apartment, school, family, and boyfriend. Why jinx things?
Buffy let her thoughts move away from such troubling matters to happier memories. Their first weekend together had been wonderful. Her minor freak-out aside, she had felt so comfortable with him. They had a wonderful time on Saturday night, having dinner and then visiting the Getty Museum, taking in the lovely views of Los Angeles. Before Will had left on Sunday, they had brunch together. She had been nervous about meeting his mother, but Mrs. Smythe, or Anne as she insisted that Buffy call her, had been a lovely woman.
And when they said goodbye, he had given her a kiss that still made her toes curl when she thought about it.
That was what made her the happiest about their relationship: she felt so at ease with him. During their long phone calls, they could talk about anything. He'd mention his book, and how well it was going, and even asked for her advice at times. It was so flattering, to know that he wanted her opinion. To make it even better, he excited her more than any man ever had. Some times, he just had to look at her, and she could feel her muscles clenching, her arousal hitting her like a freight train.
Buffy sighed and gazed out the window, ignoring the economics textbook that sat in front of her on the kitchen table. After that weekend, she had known that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Will. Phone calls weren't enough, even when they lasted for two and a half hours and forced her to work extra hours so she could afford the long distance bill. The Fates had smiled on her, and two weeks later, she had a free weekend. So she went down to San Diego, with hope in her heart, butterflies in her stomach, and her sexiest lingerie in her overnight bag.
The Friday night she arrived, they had gone out for dinner at a seafood place near Will's house. The restaurant faced the water, with large windows that gave the place an airy, casual feel. Buffy felt overdressed at first, but every time she looked at Will, his eyes told her that she was beautiful. Anytime her nerves started twitching, she looked at him and felt her self-confidence rise. He made her feel like she had a power greater than Slayer strength: her personality, her looks, her soul, seemed to work some kind of magic over him. But it was a mutual feeling; she was under his spell just as much as he was under hers.
The night progressed, and she was caught in a hazy, languid dream-like state, full of steamy looks and lingering touches. He fed her shrimp, and she sucked on his fingers, saying it was to get the last of the cocktail sauce, but really because she just wanted to taste him. They ate lobster, letting the butter trickle down their chins only to be wiped away by the other's fingers. Dessert was a sinfully rich chocolate cake. Buffy lifted a piece of cake to his mouth, and when he took the fork into his mouth, gazing at her as he dragged his lips from the utensil, she toyed with the desire to knock the table aside and attack him.
Instead, she waited until they got back to his house, and then attacked him.
God, it was good between them. She wasn't that experienced, and she'd certainly never explored her sexuality. None of her boyfriends in the past seemed eager to go beyond the basics, so she'd just made do. But Will seemed intent to find any spot on her body that gave her pleasure, and then lick, stroke, kiss, or otherwise touch each of those spots as often as he could. And when he finally slid into her, they both stilled, staring into each other's eyes. It was like finding a beautiful pearl after looking in a sea of oysters. She nearly started crying, because it was so sweet and tender and hot and blissful and sad. But she just wrapped her arms around him, and said, "When you touch me, I want to live forever."
Will groaned, his eyes dropping shut, before he started moving. He leaned down and kissed her, and his voice was strained when he said, "It's . . . like . . . I can only . . . breathe . . . when I'm with . . . you." His gasps punctuated his statement, and she kissed his eyelids, wishing she could somehow draw him even closer to her.
After that, there was no way in hell that she was letting him get away. She had woken up the next morning, to find he had snuggled up against her, his hand laying across her stomach. The only thought in her head was, 'I can't ever give this up.' So they had spent that weekend in bed, occasionally venturing out for food or a short trip to the beach. The weekend had been full of sex, yes, but there also smiles and jokes and those post-coital conversations where anything and everything seemed to take on a new significance and importance.
Ever since, they had managed to see each other nearly every weekend. Even if it was only for a day, due to work schedules and other responsibilities, they managed to sneak away and find time to be together. Sometimes, they didn't even make love; they would just fall asleep together. Yet she always had the same thought when she woke up: 'I can't mess this up.'
Her happiness seemed only matched by her fears. She worried that he would get in an accident on his way to see her. She wondered if she was enough for him. She feared that he would sell his book, become world-famous, and decide to hook up with the women who'd be throwing themselves at him. She even fretted that one day, he would get tired of dealing with a woman who was raising an always-underfoot teenager and find someone else with less complications. Buffy knew that he liked and cared about Dawn, and he had made no secret of how happy she made him, both in and out of bed. So she didn't know why she worried so much. Yet she did.
Buffy shook her head, and tried to snap herself out of dreamland. Four chapters of economic policy and theory weren't going to get read if she spent all her time staring out the window and thinking about Will. She grinned, and muttered, "But the time would go by a lot faster then," before determinedly focusing her attention on her textbook. She had read all of one paragraph when the phone rang.
With a giggle, Buffy jumped up and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"
"You sound particularly happy, love," Will's voice purred through the phone. "Could it be because of a phone call from yours truly?"
She grinned as she stretched the phone cord as far as it could reach, and sat back down at the kitchen table. "Actually, it's because you've saved me from probably the driest textbook ever written, on the driest subject in existence. You could have been a telemarketer, and I would have happily listened to your pitch for aluminum siding."
"Humph," Will said. "Well, see if I talk dirty to you tonight, then."
"Don't pout, Will," she said, restraining her urge to giggle. "It's wasted if I'm not there to see it in person."
Suddenly, she heard a knock at the front door. "Oh, shoot, hold on--there's someone at the door." She dropped the phone on the table, and hurried over to the door, looking through the peephole. All she saw was red, so she frowned, slid the chain lock on, and opened the door.
Will grinned at her, thrusting a huge bouquet of roses at her. She felt her mouth drop open, and she stared at him for a moment, before quickly slamming the door shut, knocking the chain aside, and throwing the door open. She wrapped her arms around him, dimly hearing his cell phone drop to the floor. "What are you doing here? It's only Wednesday! I thought I was coming down on Saturday to see you."
Will handed her the roses, and bent over to pick up his cell phone. He moved into her apartment, and she saw that he had his overnight bag over his shoulder, as well as a bottle of champagne in his hand. "I couldn't wait, Buffy. I have such good news!"
She followed him into the kitchen, watching him drop his bag and shrug out of his jacket on the way. Once in the kitchen, he hung up her phone, grabbed two flutes out of her cabinet, and poured the champagne. He grinned at her as he handed her a glass.
"First, take a sip." She raised an eyebrow at him, but savored a bit of the bubbly wine, watching as he gulped a mouthful. Then, he took her other hand in his, and said, "I sold my book."
"Oh my God, Will!" Buffy exclaimed, not caring about the glass of champagne she held as she once again threw her arms around him. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! When did you find out?"
Will squeezed her tightly, and his voice sounded so happy when he replied. "Found out this morning, love. First thing I did was call in sick for the next couple of days, and then I hopped in the car. All I could think about was telling you."
Buffy pulled back, and kissed him, their lips caressing. They paused for breath, and she closed her eyes, and just breathed in the combination of scents that now screamed 'Will' at her. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her.
"It's all because of you that the book was finished. When I'm with you, it's like I can fly. So when I sit down to write, I just remember how you make me feel, and the words just pour out of me. God, I love you."
Buffy gasped, staring at him. Will ducked his head, blushing a bit, but kept his eyes fixed on her. He reached and found one of her hands, and squeezed it. "I love you, Buffy," he said, his voice rough.
She bit her lip, trying not to let out the tears that were forming. She couldn't believe that he was the first one to say it. He had made her so happy, made her into this new person who was very similiar to the Buffy she had been before becoming the Slayer. She owed so much to him, but she still hadn't really let him all the way into her soul, her heart. Hadn't given him the weapon of her love, a weapon that he could use to destroy her. Instead, he had given her the power. And she felt so strong, and so trusted, that there was only one choice for her, even if she felt her heart pounding and that tiny voice in the back of her head, warning her to keep her distance, that it wasn't worth the pain . . .
She cupped his cheek in her hand, and tried to make her eyes express everything that she was feeling. He was staring at her, his heart in his eyes, looking so hopeful yet so sad that she found she wasn't that scared, after all.
"I love you, too."
Will sighed happily, his hands rubbing light circles on her hips. "God, that sounds bloody amazing."
She giggled, and kissed his nose. "I love you," she said, feeling like she had just won the lottery.
He grinned at her. "And that sounds even better." He swooped down, and kissed her within an inch of her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck, relying on his strength to keep her steady. Keep her protected, keep her loved.
Buffy pulled away, and rested her forehead against his chest. "So, when do I get to see this masterpiece?" she asked, tracing his bicep.
"Tonight, if you like. I brought a print-out. Thought you could look at it in-between the gifts and massive amounts of sex I'm going to give you for the next four days."
Buffy giggled. "You don't have to give me the sex, you know. The gifts would be more than enough."
Will growled at her, and slapped her bottom lightly. "Cease and desist, woman."
Buffy laughed and pulled away from him. "Dawn's baby-sitting tonight, so she won't be home till ten. Wanna order in and veg out in front of the TV?"
"Wanted to take you out to a nice, fancy place," Will said. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he grinned at her devilishly. "But if we stay home, you could read the book and then give me massive amounts of stroking. Both my ego and . . . other parts of me."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Can we please stop thinking about sex? Gosh, you sell a book and you become a big old sex machine. You want pizza or Chinese?"
Will flashed her a huge grin, and said, "Pizza works for me. Do you mind if I take a shower, love? Book's in my bag, if you want to read."
Buffy, already on the phone, waved her hand towards her bathroom, and Will dropped a kiss on her forehead, before he pulled some clothes out of his bag and left the kitchen.
After she hung up the phone, Buffy made a beeline for his duffle bag, and found a large accordion file. She pulled it out, and happily shoved aside her economics books to make a place for the file. She looked through the various compartments, and found the first chapters.
Buffy set the papers down on the table and leaned forward, propping her chin up with her hands, her elbows set on the table. With anticipation, she started reading.
**
The sound of the shower turning off broke Buffy out of the disbelieving daze she had fallen into as she had read Will's book. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. His book . . . it was like someone had taken her life, changed some details, and made the main character male. Her introduction to her first Watcher, her battle with the Master, even Xander and Willow--it was all there.
Buffy shook her head. 'How did he know? How did he find out?' she wondered, confused and disturbed. She didn't understand what was going on. She was still working up the courage to start talking to him about her life as a Slayer, but it was like she shouldn't have worried about it, because somehow, he knew. How else could he have gotten the details so perfectly?
She felt a swirling fear churning in her belly. She was so scared. Scared that if he found out how much she had really inspired him, that he wouldn't want her anymore. Wouldn't love her. If he knew the truth about her, how could he ever accept it? No guy would be willing to be with a girl who was stronger than he was.
Plus, did being his "inspiration" mean that he was only with her because of the book? And now that the book was done, did that mean things were going to change? Was he going to leave? She couldn't bear that thought. She was finally getting her life together, and he was a big part of it--the biggest. If he had betrayed her, what did that mean?
When he walked into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight of her. "Oh, good, you're reading it! What do you think?"
It used to amaze her, how he could seem so confident but then turn on a dime and become self-conscious and unsure. She had thought it was charming and wonderful.
Now, it made her mad.
'Bastard,' she thought. 'How the hell did he find this out? Does he think this is just some game? He thinks that I'm going to stand by and let him show my past to the world, for others to laugh at? No way in hell!'
"What the hell is this?" she asked, the fear and anger affecting her so much that her voice was icy-cold.
Will looked at her in surprise. "What? It's . . . it's my book."
Buffy moved towards him, holding a page in her hand. "How'd you get the idea? What made you think, 'Hmm, a teenage boy who fights demons and vampires, assisted only by his Guide and his friends'? Why have his first battle be against a vampire older than old, with," she glanced at the paper, "'snake eyes and grape juice mouth'? How, Will?"
Will seemed surprised, and he backed up against the counter as she came even closer towards him. "I don't really know! It just came to me one day . . . I started working on it right before I met you. In fact, I wrote the first few pages the day I met you."
She turned away from him, tossing the sheet of paper on the table. "Have you been talking to Dawn? Has she been telling you about my life before? In Sunnydale?"
"What? No!" Will sputtered. When she glared at him, he said, "Well, I mean, she said she was telling me 'Buffy's dark little secrets,' but nothing like this! Just things like how much you love ice skating, and your favorite ice cream is anything with chocolate in it."
"Then who have you been talking to?" she screamed at him. She felt tears trickling down her cheeks, and she flew at him, pounding her fists into his chest. "Who told you? How did you know? How did you find out about me?" Buffy laid her head on his chest, sobbing. "I thought I was finally done baking. I thought I had gotten everything figured out. Job, school, friends, and as the cherry on top of the sundae, a wonderful, sexy, caring boyfriend." She sniffed, and pushed herself away from him, not caring about the confused, stricken look on his face.
Buffy didn't care about anything except the pain she felt. She had been betrayed by someone, one of her nearest and dearest. He had found out about her. She didn't know why he taunted her over her failures with the cruel trick of the book, but she couldn't bear this. Couldn't bear the thought that her dream, of happy ever after and a normal life, was ending.
She felt Will's hands on her shoulders. "Buffy, love, sweetheart, I don't understand. What do you mean, 'how did I find out about you?' Did something in the book remind you of something?"
She snorted. "Oh, yeah, the book reminded me of something. My whole life." She whirled around and faced him again, not caring that her tears had made her mascara run and that her nose was probably red. "Your little flight of fancy just happens to be my life. Sure, the main character is a guy, and there's some different names and all. But . . ." she paused, sniffing and trying to control her voice, to get rid of that telltale quaver. "But, that all happened to me. I fought a Master vampire and died. I sent my first boyfriend to hell, because sleeping with me let out his demon. I only got that far, but I'm guessing the whole book is going to be like that . . . every single one of my lowest points, my greatest failures, chronicled for other people's entertainment."
Will looked utterly amazed. "What the hell are you talking about? My book is your life?"
She merely nodded, and Will stared at her for a moment, before beginning to pace around the kitchen. He stopped after he walked the length of the kitchen a few times, and turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. His voice was incredulous, and even a bit angry. "You're saying, that everything in the book happened to you? So there's really vampires and monsters? And you, all five foot two of you, fought them?" He snorted. "What's really going on, Buffy?"
He dropped the hands from his hips, and stepped towards her, placing his hands on her arms. "Is this about what we said? Because if it was too soon, we can take a step back. But don't . . . don't use such a stupid excuse for being scared. I'm scared, too."
Buffy sighed. He didn't get it. She felt the tears forming in her eyes again. "Will, I don't know how this is possible. How you could know so much. It's impossible. And I want to trust you. I do. I just . . . can't be around you tonight. It's too much."
Will shook his head. "Buffy, no. I should stay--we can talk about this. You can tell me anything you want, ask me anything you need to know. You can't shut me out like this." He moved his hands from her arms to her face, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "Buffy, if you send me away tonight, this could be it. It'll be too easy to pull away and just let this divide us. I don't know how this has happened. I don't know if I believe you, that what I wrote is your life." He sighed, and continued. "But I'm willing to listen to you, when you explain it to me. But I need the explanations, Buffy. We have to talk this out. I can't let you break us up over this. I love you too much to let you walk away."
Buffy leaned in, resting her head on his chest again. She breathed deeply, trying to control her sobs for a moment. "Will, I just can't. Please, give me tonight. I promise you, we can talk tomorrow. I need to figure things out on my own first. Tomorrow, we can talk. If you have to tie me to the bed, we can talk about this all tomorrow. But I can't do it tonight."
Buffy stopped talking, afraid to look at him. She didn't know what to do. She knew he was right; they did need to talk. But if they did it tonight, she knew she'd say something that would destroy both of them. He had to leave. Had to leave before she made things even worse.
She felt Will's breath on her forehead. He was breathing heavily, like he was trying not to cry. She sniffed, and finally managed to pull herself together enough to look at him.
She wished she hadn't, when she saw his face. He looked devastated. Like his heart was being broken, and he didn't even know why. She felt the tears welling up again. "Oh, God, Will, please, just go. Go before I make things even worse."
Will stared at her for a moment, like he didn't understand why he was there, or what she was saying. Then, without a word, he stepped away from her. He walked into the kitchen, and she could hear him picking up his things and shuffling the papers of his book. Then, he walked out of the kitchen, and walked down the hall. He paused, and looked back towards her.
"I love you. Don't forget that."
She looked at him, then dropped her eyes. She couldn't look at him. Couldn't watch him walk out of her apartment. Walk out of her life.
She heard the door close, and she dropped to her knees. The sobs came fast, so powerful that she couldn't breathe. She wailed, unable to believe what was happening. Because despite his words, she didn't know what to remember, what to forget, what to believe.
And she kept hearing that little voice, in the back of her head, taunting her. 'Told you it'd hurt . . . never should have said 'I love you' . . . you always make them leave . . . '
**
Buffy turned, confused. The last thing she remembered, she was laying on the floor of her living room, exhausted from her sobbing. She had stared at the carpet, feeling miserable. Now, though, she seemed to be outside, in a forest.
"Welcome, Chosen One."
Buffy whirled around, and saw three women standing in front of her. They were all beautiful, and dressed in . . . togas?
Buffy frowned. "Okay, this is a very weird dream. I was in the middle of a personal crisis, and while it's nice to get a break, this isn't exactly what I would have thought I'd get."
One of the women sighed and rolled her eyes. She stage-whispered, "This is why I don't like dealing with mortals. Such limited comprehension."
The woman next to her nudged her, and then stepped forward. "We have called you forth, to this place, to open your eyes. You have been blinded, for reasons that are beyond your understanding. But these reasons are now more hindrance than help."
Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just a simple girl who was once a Slayer. You want to make that a little more vague?"
The first woman made what sounded much like a snort, and the second woman sighed and then continued. "After the final battle, with the First Evil, we stepped in to alter your life, much as your life was altered by the Monks of Dagon, to explain the existence of the Key. Instead of implanting a person and memories, however, we removed a person's presence from your life."
Buffy stared at the woman, not understanding. "Um . . . excuse me? How is that even possible?" she asked, her voice shaking. Her mind was reeling at this possibility. What did this mean? Who had been taken from her?
"How this was accomplished is beyond your comprehension," the woman replied airily.
"Okay, I'm getting tired of getting knocked for being human," Buffy said, stomping her foot. "Tell me, now, who you took and how you did it."
The first woman asked suddenly, "How did you defeat Angelus, Slayer?"
Buffy frowned, looking at her. "How did I defeat Angelus? I sent him to Hell, even though Willow had restored his soul, because Alfalfa had already opened."
The woman sighed heavily. "But what about Drusilla? How were you able to defeat Drusilla, in order to confront Angelus?"
"What? I . . ." Buffy's voice trailed off, as she realized she didn't know. Couldn't remember how Drusilla had been taken care of so she could deal with Angelus.
"Now you are beginning to see," the second woman commented softly. "The first step is realizing that a deletion has occurred."
Buffy found herself sitting on a small chair. She bit her lip, and twisted her hands in her lap. "Okay, I see what you're getting at," she said, feeling confused and worried.
The second woman nodded approvingly. "You are much brighter than anyone, even yourself, has ever given you credit for."
"If I'm so smart, why didn't I realize this before?" Buffy said, feeling a wave of self-doubt crash over her.
"You could not have known, Slayer. We are only choosing to remove the veil now, at this point, because of what occurred in your reality in the last few of your hours," said the snippy one.
Buffy started. "You mean, with Will? And his book?"
"Precisely," she continued. "This was an unforseen consequence of an action we took regarding the person we removed from your life."
The kind woman stepped forward, and sat next to Buffy in an identical chair. "You do not realize who we are. We are the Fates. We are responsible for spinning the thread of life, and cutting it, for each mortal in existence. It is a simple task, really. Even for Slayers who persist in coming back to life." She reached over and patted Buffy's hand.
Buffy smiled weakly, at the woman's attempt of a joke. The woman continued. "Yet, every so often, something occurs and our judgement is flawed, our decision in conflict with the greater forces of the universe--the Powers that Be. In those cases, we must choose how to best resolve the conflict."
Buffy frowned, puzzling over the woman's words. "Did this conflict affect the person removed from my life?"
The woman smiled. "Yes. Our solution was to reward the soul in question with another chance at life. The first lifetime for the soul had been . . . convoluted. Yet the soul's mortal existence was terminated with an act of self-sacrifice so noble, so pure, that we could not let the soul wink out of existence. Thus, we gave the soul another vessel, similiar to the first. We gave it new memories, and set it down in California. Because this soul's mate was in California, still existing."
Buffy shook her head. "I'm sorry, but why did you do all that? I mean, wouldn't there be a chance for this person to come in contact with its soul mate, and make a big old mess? It'd be like on an episode of Star Trek, when they time travel and mess things up and create a paraflox or something."
"Normally, you would at least be partially correct. It would create errors. In fact, it has. But we chose to risk the errors, because being close to its soul mate was part of the reward for the disputed soul."
Buffy sighed. "I still don't understand."
The third woman, who had remained silent during the conversation, stepped forward. Buffy looked at her in confusion, and the woman drew near and bent down. She looked into Buffy's eyes, and uttered a single word.
"Remember."
Buffy stared at the woman, and the woman smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss against Buffy's forehead.
And in a flash of color and sound, Buffy realized what was missing from her life. Who was missing. A cocky smirk. A black leather duster. A tender look. Blue eyes that could shift from violence to love in a second. Fangs. Anger. Hurt. Regret. Love.
Yet some of these things were familiar to her. She knew them. Knew those eyes, knew that look. Had felt that love.
And then, the rest of the explanation whirled through her.
Buffy's eyes, which had closed involuntarily, popped open. She stared at the women, who had all stood before her now. They looked at her with sympathy and understanding.
"I remember. I know," Buffy choked out.
The three women spoke as one. "You have a difficult choice ahead of you, Slayer. Choose the truth, and risk pain. Choose the lie, and risk pain. You may be rewarded or punished. Your fate, and the fate of the one once known as Spike, and now known as Will, is out of our hands now. You are making your own fate, your own choice. Remember what you have been told before, by the representative of the Powers that Be, and you will be able to make your own destiny."
"What? What representative of the Powers?" Buffy asked, confused.
The Fates looked towards their left. Buffy followed their gaze, and saw the First Slayer. She was back in that moment that happened four years ago, sitting by a fire in the middle of the desert.
The First Slayer stalked towards her. "You love with all your heart. It is brighter than the fire. Love, give, forgive. Love will lead you to your gift."
Buffy frowned, remembering the next words. "And death is my gift?"
The First Slayer shook her head. "No. He is your gift."
End, Chapter Six