Black and White

//On the outside is forgotten//

//A constant need//

//To get along//

//And the animal awakens//

//And all I feel is black and white//

//The road is long//

//The memory slides//

//To the whole of my undoing//

//Put aside//

//I put away//

//I push it back to get through each day//

//And all I feel is black and white//

//And I'm wound up small and tight//

//And I don't know who I am//

//Everybody loves you when you're easy//

//Everybody hates when you're a bore//

//Everyone is waiting for your entrance//

//So don't disappoint them//


Sarah McLachlan "Black and White"

~*~

Buffy's eyes creep open after only an hour of sleep, but enough time has passed for dawn to be breaking outside her bedroom window. In that first instant of waking, everything bad is forgotten as she sits up to tiredly rub the grit from her eyes. Then the very tiredness that weighs on every aspect of her being reminds her of …

What her life has become, she scoffs and bites her lip hard when the bitter laugh threatens to turn into sobs.

Methodically she rises from the bed, goes to her dresser to collect an outfit for the day then tiptoes through the silent upper level of her house to the bathroom. As she goes through the motions of getting ready she focuses determinedly on Slayer business and refuses to let so much as a hint of thoughts about … him … to enter her mind.

Well, any thoughts other than the mental decree that no thoughts about … him … would be allowed, she corrects herself as she gargles and brushes her teeth not once looking at herself in the mirror.

She knows what she'll see and doesn't want to see it so she can't let herself look in that mirror. Not now.

Maybe not ever again.

For the first time in her life she's ready to leave the house and venture out into the world without preening and making sure every aspect of her reflection looked in perfect place to fool everyone into believing she was a regular little Miss Sunshine.

God, she hates this.

She grabs her leather coat and steps out the front door into the just beginning morning with her every instinct telling her to go to him because she's hurting here again and only he can ever make it better, but he's part of the problem now and she needs him here to kick his ass for doing this to her.

NOT, she mentally kicks herself a few dozen times, NOT thinking about him.

The need to do something violent fills her and reminds her of the damned Geek Squad that had been messing with her for too damned long. An almost smile touches her lips as she buttons up her jacket and begins stalking without any weapons down the street toward the 'lair' where she'd find the losers to pound her emotions out on.

When she reaches her destination the door bursts off its hinges under her kick with a satisfying splintering of wood. She steps easily through the opening she created, walks down the few steps into the actual room and peers around curiously.

"All right," she calls out when she doesn't see anyone. "Let's make this quick."

Her green eyes look around and her ears are peeled for even the slightest sign of anyone being there, but it's obvious they've ditched the place.

Can't really blame them for that, she thinks with a scornful glance at the décor.

"I am not leaving till we have a little chat," she says just in case they can hear her somehow as she moves around the place rifling through things. "I may even let you twerps do some of the talking in between my kicking your pathetic asses," she offers while beginning to gather up some of the things she's looking through. "You really can't expect to hide from me forever considering the pummeling that needs to occur," she moves over to a shelf of geeky little action figures. "I mean, guys," she sighs and moves on to collect more things and start tucking her collection inside her coat. "Hellooo, Slayer here. Did you honestly think I wouldn't find you? Do you really think I can't do it again …," she trails off as she discovers more papers and tucks them away before going to the white-board the losers had noted many of their plots on.

It's flipped, preventing her from seeing anything on it, so she straightens it to get a good look at the white surface.

"That can't be good," she observes aloud as she sees "TOO LATE!" written on the board in green marker.

There are not words, she decides as huge buzz saws begin cutting through everything with every apparent intention of including her in their destruction, to describe how much she hates these geeks.

With an agility she really didn't know she has she ducks and dodges the deadly blades, gathering more books and papers as she goes, and makes it up the few steps to get out the door. She keeps moving until she reaches the front yard then stumbles to the ground with a huff. Cursing the three jerks with every profanity and actual curse she can think of she pushes herself up and begins gathering the papers and other items that had flew from her hold when she fell.

Then she looks down at herself and freezes with her jaw falling open. Her jacket. Her brand new cute little red leather coat that she'd somehow managed to find on sale enough to buy for herself had obviously come into contact with one of the saws. She felt her stomach beneath the torn garment to check for blood and when her hand came away clean she vowed to herself that those dweebs would so pay for this.

~*~*~

After returning home with what she'd collected from the geek squad Buffy immersed herself in trying to figure out what exactly she'd managed to find and swore that it better be good for having gotten her coat ruined to get it. Tara and Willow had pulled themselves away from their making up in bed party to help out with the research and she was grateful because she and the books had never really been mixy things despite all the research she'd had to do over the years. Unlike Dawn, who was really proving to be a natural at catching on to little details and being an actual help with going through the items spread out on the coffee table in the living room the four women were gathered around.

"These guys were obviously slobs," the teenager sighs as she studies the blurred ink on a piece of parchment that had obviously met with an accidental bath in some brown liquid.

"Their place was actually pretty organized looking except for the whole 'just grabbed everything they could in like five minutes and got the hell out of Dodge' air about it when I got there," Buffy doesn't look up from the … map? … she's studying to give that bit of unimportant news.

"This is really gonna take a while," Tara stifles a yawn as she looks up from the book she was reading with a little difficulty considering the text had been sawed in two during Buffy's exit from the basement.

"Would probably go faster if we had someone to translate geek," Dawn smiles to try lightening the mood.

"I think in many circles I've still got geek cred, but this stuff is beyond my geekdom," Willow returns the girl's smile then frowns at Buffy. "Maybe we should call Xander."

The slayer shakes her head with a sad smile, "I think we're gonna have to give him some time to get back in the Scooby mood."

All smiles fade from the four faces at the reminder of the previous night and their eyes drop again to focus on the items they're trying to make sense of.

"We'll work through this," the redhead says with a quick glance at Buffy that tells the Slayer her friend refers to more than the research. "It may be slow, but we'll figure this out and it'll all be ok."

Knowing it's expected of her the blonde puts a big cheery smile on her face and looks at the three faces around her, "Yeah. We're good at this stuff. Those geeks don't stand a chance against our girl power."

Giggles all around at that and Tara and Willow get all snuggly wuggly with loving glances and little touches as the mood lightens once more.

Buffy's falsely bright smile grows brittle then falls away as she watches the lovers so happy and together and … in love. She forces the illusion of happiness for the couple back to her lips when her sister turns to give her a ecstatic look that indicates the teenager is on cloud nine to see one relationship going well again after last night.

God, how I hate this.

~*~*~

This was the last place she wanted to be, but as Buffy knew if she didn't force herself to have a talk with Xander right now while she was taking a much needed break from the Tara/Willow lovefest she knew her wandering feet would take her to a place she wanted to be even less than here. And she was far from ready to go near that place yet, so here she stood knocking on her long time friend's door waiting to be invited in.

After a few moments the barrier swings open to reveal the brunette in the same clothes he'd been wearing the day before and reeking of the cheap beer he holds a can of in his hand. She doesn't get an actual invite into his apartment, but he turns away and leaves the door open behind him in silent permission for her to enter.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy, she sighs inwardly as he stumbles toward his couch and flops down while she shuts the door and follows slowly after him to sit in an armchair next to the sofa.

"I think there's still a cold one in the fridge," he offers into the awkward silence as he crumples the empty can he holds and casually tosses it onto the pile around him.

"Thanks," she tries and fails at a smile in the face of his apathy, "but, uh, I think it's a little early for me."

"More for me then," he pushes back to his feet, moves to the kitchen to get the aforementioned beer then trudges back to his seat to pop open the tab and takes a gulp of the liquor.

"You shouldn't - " she begins then stops when his dark eyes openly challenge her, of all people his gaze seems to says, to tell him anything he should or shouldn't do. "She loves you," she tries the 'consoling friend' approach. "You know that," she clenches her hands together in her lap and stares at her slender fingers. "Anya was just …," God, why am I going there? "She was hurting and she did a really stupid thing. She didn't mean to hurt you," or me.

"Yeah," he takes another swig of beer, "a stupid thing with your boyfriend."

She has to bite her lower lip to stop it from quivering at the mention of the person she's trying so hard not to think of today.

"He's not my boyfriend," she whispers when she's in control again. "He's not my anything." Anymore.

"I know why Anya …," he looks at her with disbelieving eyes, "her I can understand why she would … with … that. I do, actually, but," he shakes his head and looks away, "you. You," he scoffs bitterly. "All those times I told Spike to get lost. He'd never have a chance with a girl like you. Thought he was just the same old stalking impotent evil one you'd sooner stake than touch," another mockery of a laugh escapes him and twists his features. "God, how could I have been so blind?"

"You don't know how hard this has been for me," she gets tired of feeling like a kicked puppy that deserves the beating and goes on the offensive.

"What? Lying to me? Lying to all your friends and fucking another vampire? God, Buffy, doing Spike?!"

"I do not have to justify that to you or anyone else," she rises to her feet. "You have no idea what you all did to me by bringing me back here. I tell you you yanked me from Heaven with your stupid spell and you just brush it off and leave me alone to deal with being here again while you and Willow both go back to your own lives. I had no one else to go to after what you did so don't you dare look down on me for finding peace and comfort wherever I could. You have no idea how much this still hurts me. This is more than the Hellmouth now it's my Hell and you brought me here."

"So you went to him?" Xander rises as well. "You went to … that thing instead of trying to tell me this?"

"I did try to tell you," she looks him coldly in the eye. "I tried to tell all of you with that song and again when Giles was leaving and you wanna know what happened? He's the only one that listened. You and Anya went about your wedding plans while Willow went all whacky with the spells and he was the only one there for me because you … none of you … wanted to know. You didn't want to know or deal with what you'd done and I don't blame you. It's pretty fucked up and I wish to God I didn't have to deal with it either, but that's the problem with not having a say in the selfish things other people do that involve you. I have to deal with it then, now and for the rest of this restored life I never asked for."

"So you fuck Spike?"

"What I do with my personal life is none of your business, Xander," she informs him coldly.

"It used to be," he sighs and sinks back down to the couch.

"That was a long time ago," she returns to her seat as well. "A lifetime ago. This thing with him it … it just happened. I didn't plan it or expect it but it happened and that's all you get to know."

"Just happened?" he does that bitter laugh again that grates on her last nerve. "Oh, so it was like … uh, 'Say, you're evil. Get on top of me?' Or maybe the two of you were fighting naked and he just fell inside you. That kind of thing doesn't 'just happen,' Buffy. At least not more than once."

Her hands curl into tight fists as images swirl through her mind of all the times she and Spike had been together and all her reasons for rejecting him yet returning for more threatened to make her scream.

"You," she shook her head and went on the attack again. "You fought side by side with him while I was gone. You trusted him to help all of you and let him take care of Dawn."

"Yeah, we – I did," his brown eyes look straight into hers. "But I never forgot what he really is. William the Bloody aka Spike, slaughterer of half the innocents in Europe with his psycho sweety working on the other half. My God, what were you thinking?"

"You're asking me that?" she gives a bitter laugh of her own. "You, who have been such a shining example of making the right decisions of late, ask what I was thinking?"

"I'm not saying I haven't made mistakes, but add all my stupid life choices up and they wouldn't amount to even the least bad thing Spike's done as a vampire. The things he and Drusilla did … the things he did as Angelus' prodigy … there's no comparison. He doesn't have a soul, Buffy, just the leash your ex's cronies jammed in his head. Take that away and he'd kill us all. You don't really think he'd still be all snuggles with you if that chip ever stopped working? Would you still trust him with Dawn?"

"It doesn't matter," she sighs and slumps a bit in the chair. "He's gone. We don't have to worry about that."

"Gone?" another scoff. "I'll believe that when I see it. He's been your freaking shadow for years now."

"Not anymore," that tightness returns to her chest at his words and yet another reminder at how loyal the vampire had been to her and how all that was gone now. "He's gone and even if he weren't I wouldn't be seeing him anymore. It's over," those two words echo sickeningly in her mind for a moment.

"There's a lot of that going around right now," he gets to his feet and storms past her to leave the apartment with a window rattling slam of the door.

Cursing the stupid voice inside her that had told her she had to try mending this fence, she sits there with her head dropping tiredly into her hands. Somehow she doubted going to Spike's crypt would have been more difficult that this hellish conversation that left such a bitter taste in her mouth.

She couldn't remember life being this hard before she died that second time, although the first time only felt like a minor technicality. The last time had felt so permanent and that's what made this all so wrong.

She didn't know why she was even bothering.

She rose tiredly to her feet and wandered around the apartment until she came to the framed photographs on a bookcase. There she found pictures of all they'd been, but she knew they could never really be again. After all she'd been through this time there was no going back to that bright and shiny cheerleader in the picture of Willow, Xander and herself from high school. Willow was equally beyond the point where she could go back to the shy, computer geekish innocent girl she was in that photo. Were it not for the harsh words still ringing in her ears, Buffy would have said that Xander hadn't changed, but he too had been altered by the years that had passed. Sure, they all had elements in them of what they'd been, but …

Those days were gone.

In that picture three friends were frozen in a time where the world had been scary, but full of infinite possibilities. They'd had each other and their families and Giles to guide and watch over them and they'd all still had the illusion of safety with those figures in their lives. Now they all had to stand on their own and that struggle for individual survival had changed them for better or worse.

She was expected by all of them to still be that girl and she was trying, but for what?

All that life - being that girl - had done was bring her to where she was now and, while she wanted to stay now that she really had nothing else to do but die, did she really want to pretend that was still all she was?

When Buffy played that part her friends didn't see her dying inside.

When she showed them what she now was they made it clear they wanted her to go back to the way she was supposed to be regardless of what it did to her inside to pretend.

They didn't want her to be herself. They wanted her to be the bright eyed and bushy tailed cheerleader they seemed to have her forever frozen in their minds as.

She had two choices – pretend and continue to have them around for superficial support or face everything she now was, make them see it and risk having to stand completely on her own. Resisting the urge to destroy the picture she forced herself to put the item back in place and make her way toward the door.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips as she leaves the apartment and shuts the door behind her.

If she'd started all these realizations sooner she wouldn't have to worry about standing alone. She would have had S … someone to stand by and accept her however she was then and now.

That really wasn't an option now.

Not, she tells herself firmly as she begins the long trek back to the house where the happy lesbians wait to show her how good their relationship was and exemplify how fucked up things between her and Spike had been, that that had been a real option to begin with.

As always she only had one choice.

Pretend.

Pretend to be a normal girl and daughter when in all actuality she had been chosen at birth to be endowed with superpowers to defend the world against things most people scoffed at as myths, legends, phooey and utter nonsense.

Pretend to be unaffected by the responsibilities that isolated her from everyone and everything.

Pretend to not love or be hurt by love and all the thousands of tiny slights she'd been dealt her whole life.

Pretend she didn't have needs and wants and feelings and fears that sometimes threatened to drive her insane … actually kinda had driven her crazy just a week ago.

Pretend to be anything but true to what part of her knew herself to really be.

She walks toward home and knows that she'll go on as she always has.

She'll take whatever reactions her 'loved ones' have to recent revelations and deal with them however she needs to to fix things and get them back to that picture perfect way they were supposed to be.

She'll be a good friend and sister and worker and Slayer until it stops being so hard to play the part and she does it mechanically or until something finally gives and she can again be free.

She'll play her part and never let them see how much she hated having to endure it all.