Dammit! Them character thought whatsits are not working. So I have decided to put them in... these!
Spike paced the crypt. What have I done? She looked so hurt. Broken almost. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. I have made a right royal mess
Willow ran through the cemetery. She didn't care where she ended up, as long as it was away from Spike. She followed her feet, winding through the headstones and flowers. It hurts. It hurts so much. Make it go away, just away, anywhere but here
Willow fitted the key into the door of her parents' house, her vision blurring through her tears. It hurts, deep inside. How could he make me hurt like this?
She stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom. There, for the rest of the night, she cried out tears of heartbreak
The early morning sunlight filtered through Willow's French windows. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She was still fully dressed. The pain from last night was still there, the wound in her heart still gaping wide open, but no longer bleeding. Her head was no longer fuzzy and confused. Yes, it all still hurt, but she was granted some clarity.
After having a shower, she went to find her purse. She took out the platinum card that her parents gave her as a "sorry-we-weren't-at-your-graduation-and-tried-to-burn-you-at-the-stake-and-have-left-you-on-your-own-since-you-were-14" gift. Up until now, she hadn't touched the money. But desperate times call for desperate measures. She smiled wickedly.
Anya wandered around the kitchen. Xander was still asleep, and she was munching on a bowl of muesli. Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Hello, Anya Jenkins here. My full name is..."
"Hey Anya. It's Willow. Tell me, would you like to go shopping with me today? I have a platinum card that my parents have to pay off, and I'm in need of some retail therapy. You in?"
"Sure. Come on over for 10. I'll drive"
"What do you think?" Willow asked Anya. She had stepped out of the changing room, wearing a green t-shirt emblazoned "Not all men are fools. Some are bastards", black drainpipes, and a pair of black Converse All-stars.
"I like it. It's not...it's Brodie Dalle. Not Buffy 'California plastic...ness'. Spike'll see just how strong you are". Willow had told Anya everything. Anya had threatened to teleport his...parts into Mount Etna. Willow had been astounded that an ex-demon was more human than many people she knew.
"I like it too. Let's buy this"
Five hours later, the girls were at Willow's house, re-decorating her room. They had bought countless pairs of boots: platforms, ankle-length, knee-length, leather and suede. They had thrown away all her fuzzy clothes, to be replaced by leather trousers, jeans, some baggy, some tight, t-shirts with feminist slogans, corsets, and tank tops. Even her CDs were thrown out, keeping only Ani DiFranco and adding The Distillers, Michel Polnareff (the ladies had swooned at "Love me, Please love me"), The Dresden Dolls and Aretha Franklin (who can resist "Respect"?).
Now, her room was getting a makeover. The walls were being painted jade green, and covered with photos and posters.
Willow walked into the Magic Box wearing leather trousers, black leather boots with chunky heels, black eyeliner, blood-red lipstick, and a black t-shirt saying "TOUCH ME and I kill you". Her heart lurched at the sight of Spike, but she pushed away the sadness with all the strength she possessed. She concentrated on the surprised looks of her friends. Spike's mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish that had jumped out of the tank.
"Wills! Wow, you look...wow!" Xander said. Willow smiled. She could always count on her bestest bud. Anya grinned. And Anya too!
"Willow! Oh my God! Are those my clothes?" Buffy accused.
Willow's eyes went wide. "No. Why would they be? I decided I don't want to be weak any more, so...here I am"
Willow hoped for support from Buffy. She was sadly mistaken.
"So being strong is dressing like a slut pretending she's all 'men suck'?"
Willow frowned.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Buffy, this is not dressing like a slut. You want sluttish clothes, take a look in your own wardrobe! Your shirt would just say 'Touch Me!'!"
Whoa! Clock the little mouse. Coming out of her shell. thought Spike. But eager to defend Buffy, he decided to put his two-cents in.
"Oi! You watch your mouth! Your mate is only trying to look out for you! This is in your best interests!"
"Best interests? Why can't I make decisions for myself? I am not a child Spike!" said Willow, seething with rage, but with last night's heartbreak fresh in her mind.
"Enough!" yelled Giles. "Willow, you look lovely. Now, can we get down to research? Please?"
At the end of the session, Willow approached Giles.
"Hey, umm, Giles. I was wondering. Do you think you could train me? To handle myself on patrol and stuff?"
"Sure, I'd be glad to." He replied.
Spike paced around his crypt, thinking over the events of the evening.
Suddenly, Buffy burst into the crypt. "Did you see her? Did you see that bitch? Waltzing in, pretending she was all strong, like me! She thought she could be like me!"
Buffy marched up to Spike and pinned him against the wall. "But I'm strong. See?"
And with that, she assaulted his lips with her own.
