You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I've always been a bit of a rebel. It wasn't even on purpose. I seemed to naturally go against what others considered "natural". I was always that way, I guess.
Winifred Burkle. The name brings to mind a skinny wisp of a girl with long hair and big, innocent eyes. The name suits me to a tee. I never knew why I wanted to be called Fred. It wasn't "me" at all. All I know is that at the tender age of seven, I stomped my foot and huffed, "My name's not Winifred! It's Fred!" At least that's what my parents told me.
My parents. Bless their hearts, they must have never understood me. They always assumed I'd be the dainty housewife, slightly dumb, but dedicated. So, I did the exact opposite. I became I biochemist. I rebelled.
I did even more so in Pylea. When I was sold into slavery, my buyer said I'd hardly be worth that goat. I'd probably die within the week. But I didn't. I escaped. I spent five years in that hell, and I survived. I lived longer than most of the strongest cows. Then, I was rescued.
I probably confused the people of Angel Investigations more than I did anybody else. I blew them away with my brilliance, my fiery spirit, and my strange eating habits. It was how our personal lives wound up that surprised even me.
Wesley. We were so alike, it was almost frightening. First of all, we were both scholars. We were quite talented in our respective fields. We were also both innocent and jaded at the same time. We were rediscovering a world away from one of fear and oppression, aware that at any moment, this new world could be shattered. Wesley. Brilliant, sweet, gentle, caring Wesley. The two of us together made too much sense to ignore.
So, naturally, I did just that. I, without even being aware of it, shattered everyone's expectations and got together with Gunn. He was a tough guy, raised in poverty, full of confidence, and quite handy with a battle ax. He was almost the exact opposite of Wesley, and of me, but I fell for him. Hard. Everyone else called him Gunn, but I called him Charles. Rebel.
I ponder this as I lay here in my bed, wrapped in the arms of the most unnatural man in the world. Spike. The Big Bad. A vampire with a soul. He too defied the world's expectations.
"What is it, luv?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbows to look at my face.
"Nothing," I say as I move my hands off his bare shoulders to stroke his soft hair. "I'm just surprised at how much I love you."
He grins and his lips capture mine in a deep, searing kiss. "Funny," he whispers, blue-eyes sparkling, "because I'm not at all surprised at how much I love you."
Rebel.
The End