That night Buffy worked on her creative writing assignment. She knew
she wanted to write about Spike, but she didn't know what. She could write
about how he is two faced and uses love as a tool and not an emotion. She
could write about how he spreads rumors if he doesn't get what he wants. Or
she could write about his deep blue eyes and muscular body. No Buffy focus!
Spike is bad. He doesn't respect women. He's racist and obnoxious and rude
and hot and strong and. . .stop it! You cannot have feelings for him, not
after what he did to you. She gave it up and decided to go to sleep. Even
though it was Friday she was very tired. Not even two weeks ago Spike broke
up with her. If only she had said she loved him too. No Buffy it was not
your fault! Spike didn't mean it! She fell asleep thinking of him
-Buffy's Dream Two-
Buffy panted as she tried to push. She was in labor and was giving birth to her and Spike's first child. She was very happy which facilitated her pain. She pushed once more and the baby came out.
"It's a beautiful baby girl" the doctor said and gave the baby to the nurse. She cleaned her up and wrapped her in a pink blanket and put a pink hat on her head and then handed her to Buffy.
"Do you have a name for her yet?" the nurse asked.
"Yeah it's Ashley Renee Bryson" Buffy said.
"That's pretty, but Buffy you're talking in your sleep" the nurse said, her voice sounding a lot like her mother's. Oh not this again Buffy thought.
-End of her Dream-
Her mother pulled her out of her dream. She opened her eyes and sat up.
"You were talking in your sleep honey are you okay?" Joyce asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine" she said as she picked up her stuffed pig Mr. Gordo and hugged him.
"So, have you given any thought as it what you're gong to write about?" Joyce asked.
"I want to write about Spike" she told her.
"What about Spike?" Joyce asked.
"I don't know, part of me wants to write about how rude and selfish and horrible he is" Buffy said.
"And the other part" Joyce pried.
"The other part is pleading the fifth at the moment" Buffy joked. She really didn't know what she wanted to do. Every time she thought about him, his bleached blonde hair. The way he looked good in everything, especially black, and his eyes, oh those beautiful blue eyes. the way they pierced her every time they glanced her way. Every time she thought about him a warm glow came over her. But she couldn't forgive him for what he did to her. Or at least she didn't think she could. She sighed at a loss of idea. Now that she got the inspiration to write about him nothing else seemed good enough. She hated what he was doing to her. And at the same time she love it. She picked up her pen and finally began writing.
'When I first moved here from L.A. I hated the idea. I didn't want to leave my friends, or L.A. for that matter. When I arrived I was so scared that no one would talk to me. That I would have no friends. And then I met someone. Someone who I fell in love with, but when he told me he loved me I don't know if I was scared, caught off guard or just plain stupid, but I didn't say it back. I know now, I do love him. I just wish that, that none of this would of happened. He hurt me deeply, both by lying about loving me and spreading lies about me that would ultimately lead to obliteration of my character. And for this is am angry with him. But I can't doubt anymore how I feel about him. I love him. It's been almost two weeks since the night I turned him down. I'm supposed to writing about something horrible that happened to me, but it isn't the rumors circulating or the un-passion filled use of the word "love". The thing that I'm writing about goes deeper than that. It's not about emotional pain it's about physical desire. I hesitate to write this as I foresee reactions that are less than "wanted" but I want Spike. I look at him and my heart calls out, singing the song of passion, but it taunts me, knowing I can never again have him. Never again feel his touch, his strong arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe. It's hard, dreams of desire haunt me in my sleep and visions of passion trouble my consciousness. Being burdened by your own desires leaves you empty. The flames of lust and love bleed together in one single light and it's hard to tell the difference until you look at that person. Sensing their presence. Their humanity growing and building to it's insupportable climax. Heat rises and settles at the surface, knowing it can never torrent away. Holding in the things you want most, and trying to focus on anything else, but the fortitude of it's goal descends you deeper and deeper under, taking control of your every move. You asked what's the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me, just that. Hearing his name is like waiting for snow in July. He'll never love me. And maybe that should be enough for me to move on, but hearing his words in my head. Hearing the three most beautiful words god created, "I love you" hearing them from his lips. It makes me want him. Yes he hurt me, so much that I didn't think I'd be able to live through it, but the feeling of desire overrides the hurt and all I'm left with is yearning. Will he ever love me? My head is saying no, but my heart is screaming yes. Maybe I'm hoping for something that is possible on this green earth. Or maybe I'm just wishing for something that would happen when hell froze over. I don't know. But I will always feel it. The desire, the love, him.'
She finished the paper and was satisfied with herself. She held it up in front of her and smiled. She entitled it 'Your question is answered By Elizabeth Summers' and she put it in her folder ready to take to school on Monday. She smiled again, but deep inside she still ached from the lack of love, and the loneliness she felt.
-Buffy's Dream Two-
Buffy panted as she tried to push. She was in labor and was giving birth to her and Spike's first child. She was very happy which facilitated her pain. She pushed once more and the baby came out.
"It's a beautiful baby girl" the doctor said and gave the baby to the nurse. She cleaned her up and wrapped her in a pink blanket and put a pink hat on her head and then handed her to Buffy.
"Do you have a name for her yet?" the nurse asked.
"Yeah it's Ashley Renee Bryson" Buffy said.
"That's pretty, but Buffy you're talking in your sleep" the nurse said, her voice sounding a lot like her mother's. Oh not this again Buffy thought.
-End of her Dream-
Her mother pulled her out of her dream. She opened her eyes and sat up.
"You were talking in your sleep honey are you okay?" Joyce asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine" she said as she picked up her stuffed pig Mr. Gordo and hugged him.
"So, have you given any thought as it what you're gong to write about?" Joyce asked.
"I want to write about Spike" she told her.
"What about Spike?" Joyce asked.
"I don't know, part of me wants to write about how rude and selfish and horrible he is" Buffy said.
"And the other part" Joyce pried.
"The other part is pleading the fifth at the moment" Buffy joked. She really didn't know what she wanted to do. Every time she thought about him, his bleached blonde hair. The way he looked good in everything, especially black, and his eyes, oh those beautiful blue eyes. the way they pierced her every time they glanced her way. Every time she thought about him a warm glow came over her. But she couldn't forgive him for what he did to her. Or at least she didn't think she could. She sighed at a loss of idea. Now that she got the inspiration to write about him nothing else seemed good enough. She hated what he was doing to her. And at the same time she love it. She picked up her pen and finally began writing.
'When I first moved here from L.A. I hated the idea. I didn't want to leave my friends, or L.A. for that matter. When I arrived I was so scared that no one would talk to me. That I would have no friends. And then I met someone. Someone who I fell in love with, but when he told me he loved me I don't know if I was scared, caught off guard or just plain stupid, but I didn't say it back. I know now, I do love him. I just wish that, that none of this would of happened. He hurt me deeply, both by lying about loving me and spreading lies about me that would ultimately lead to obliteration of my character. And for this is am angry with him. But I can't doubt anymore how I feel about him. I love him. It's been almost two weeks since the night I turned him down. I'm supposed to writing about something horrible that happened to me, but it isn't the rumors circulating or the un-passion filled use of the word "love". The thing that I'm writing about goes deeper than that. It's not about emotional pain it's about physical desire. I hesitate to write this as I foresee reactions that are less than "wanted" but I want Spike. I look at him and my heart calls out, singing the song of passion, but it taunts me, knowing I can never again have him. Never again feel his touch, his strong arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe. It's hard, dreams of desire haunt me in my sleep and visions of passion trouble my consciousness. Being burdened by your own desires leaves you empty. The flames of lust and love bleed together in one single light and it's hard to tell the difference until you look at that person. Sensing their presence. Their humanity growing and building to it's insupportable climax. Heat rises and settles at the surface, knowing it can never torrent away. Holding in the things you want most, and trying to focus on anything else, but the fortitude of it's goal descends you deeper and deeper under, taking control of your every move. You asked what's the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me, just that. Hearing his name is like waiting for snow in July. He'll never love me. And maybe that should be enough for me to move on, but hearing his words in my head. Hearing the three most beautiful words god created, "I love you" hearing them from his lips. It makes me want him. Yes he hurt me, so much that I didn't think I'd be able to live through it, but the feeling of desire overrides the hurt and all I'm left with is yearning. Will he ever love me? My head is saying no, but my heart is screaming yes. Maybe I'm hoping for something that is possible on this green earth. Or maybe I'm just wishing for something that would happen when hell froze over. I don't know. But I will always feel it. The desire, the love, him.'
She finished the paper and was satisfied with herself. She held it up in front of her and smiled. She entitled it 'Your question is answered By Elizabeth Summers' and she put it in her folder ready to take to school on Monday. She smiled again, but deep inside she still ached from the lack of love, and the loneliness she felt.