Hi everybody!
I'm so so sorry that this chapter is so late! It's been a crazy week! I'll try to get back on track with the updating again, and this chapter is extra long. :)
Thank you ALL for your wonderful support of the story! You inspire me. Truly.
Very warm thank yous to kim (smiling widely here I wuv making you annoyed, I'm sorry, but I do.) :), Megan (Thanks girl! Happy you liked... And I almost would rather you went over the whole story once it's done because I won't get to doing any changes until then anyways! So hold off with writing me, take notes, if that's what tickles you, and then write me when the last chapter's up. Yeah?) :), MaidenRo (hah, yeah, didn't think of that. Oh, yeah, you're wrong about it being over. Hope that's okay! At least ten more chapters.) :), spiked-gurl (glad you liked!) :), Brunettepet (Thanks for all those great comments! Glad you liked it!) :), ReeseAnn (Smiling! And yes, poor Spike!) :), SlaYeRGiRLkaL (Yay, yay. So happy you liked!) :), Nessie (Read on and you'll find out! Thanks girl!) :), gossamer (Thanks! Nice to see your name! Very happy you approve of the story.) ;), Scarlet Ibis (Ohhh, disappointed there was no more closeness between Slayer and Vamp, eh? And Buffy is an idiot, that's why.) :), Randie (thank you! Wow, that's awesome to read! I'm flattered and, as always when reading someone read my work and liked it, humbled! Love it!) :), Shadowsbabe (heh, no, no dream rip off. And poooor Spike.) :), Hannah (Thanks so much! So happy that you enjoyed it! Hope it'll continue!) :) and last but not in any way least lila (Lovely you liked! Here's some more...) :)
Hope you will enjoy!
A.M.L, Annie.
¤
All I See
¤
"You look terrible," Joyce said the next morning as Buffy entered the kitchen.
"Thanks, mom, you always know just what to say," Buffy replied and Joyce looked sympathetic.
"Sorry," she apologized, but Buffy merely shrugged.
"I feel terrible, so..." she sighed, sitting down on one of the stools as Joyce poured her a cup of coffee, concerned.
"Did you get any sleep last night? What time did you get back?"
"Oh, I don't know," the Slayer murmured, massaging her temples. "Sleep is overrated anyways."
Joyce removed the cup, then said:
"Go back to bed."
"No," Buffy shook her head, sliding off the stool and to her feet, "I have things to do, places to be. Have to go." She gave her mother a peck on the cheek before sluggishly heading for the door. "See you tonight."
Joyce furrowed her brow.
"Want me to drive you?"
"Nah, I can use the fresh air. Bye."
The door closed and Joyce looked at her two cups of coffee.
¤
Buffy reached the dorm, only wanting to see Willow. She knew that if she could just talk about this abnormality she was suffering from her friend would tell her what to do about it. The Slayer stepped through the door of her dorm room, finding it empty. She wanted to cry, needed some form of release, but kept it at bay and sunk down on the floor with her back against her bed. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her knees.
It felt like forever, but then the door clicked open and Buffy raised her head as Willow entered.
The latter closed the door and turned around, taking a step back in surprise as her gaze met Buffy's, and then she smiled.
"Hi!" she said, coming into the room, putting her books down on her bed and turning back to the blonde. "Did the heavens fall down?" she asked and Buffy's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, no, don't do that!" Willow pleaded, going down on her knees next to her friend. "It was a bad joke. Awful! What with the heavens and the falling."
Buffy had to smile at that, trying to hold the tears down.
"It's not that. It's just sleep-deprivation and... confusion... and frustration!"
She exclaimed the last word, swiping at her tears.
"I'm guessing it was Spike who 'lost' last night?" Willow asked.
"Well, yeah," Buffy confirmed.
"And you went to see him?"
"I did! But I don't wanna talk about it," the blonde stated, getting to her feet and pausing before turning to the redhead, adding: "Except I do. So... I'm talking about it. I'm gonna talk."
She trailed off and Willow looked at her with eyebrows slowly rising.
"Buffy."
"I'm getting there! Don't rush me – please!"
Willow waited tolerantly.
Buffy fidgeted, scratching her forehead, biting her lips nervously, glancing at Willow and then away.
"It's like I had a lucid dream," she finally began. "I mean, it was me that was fifteen again, I didn't go anywhere. I mean... it didn't change anything that's happened in my life up until this point since the fifteen year old version of me didn't leap back to its own timeframe remembering the past few weeks or anything. I remember it, but like it just happened."
"I get it," Willow said with a trying smile.
"Sorry, of course you do," Buffy said, running her hands through her hair and beginning to pace. "It's just... It's the weirdest feeling. All these views and ideas and thoughts that I had... I mean, me at fifteen actually liked Spike, can you believe that?" Willow didn't reply, but the expression on her face seemed to be enough as Buffy continued: "I know! I... Well, it's just that I... God, I lived with him! I slept in his bed, I bought sheets for his bed and then I slept in them! And I talked with him; I even got to know him."
"Talking would do that."
"Yeah, but see, I never asked for coherent conversation! Bantering is fine. A few wise-ass comments and a hit to the nose, send him on his way. But now all these... Oh, God! All these things are stuck in my head and I can't get rid of them and they're driving me crazy!"
"What things?"
"Annoying, irritating, aggravating things!"
"Those words all mean the same thing."
"So much for the sarcastic!"
"Sorry."
"No, don't be sorry. I'm sorry!" She stopped, drawing a breath and steadying herself, meeting Willow's gaze as she said: "He told me things that made me see him as... not him. But all of it's the spell's fault! Being young and blind and stupid out of your mind can be dangerous for more than one reason, it seems. And I was so young; and so blind and..." She whined, hiding her face in her hands.
"Buffy," Willow said silently, "what are you trying to tell me? That you actually liked Spike for a couple of weeks? It's okay! You weren't..."
"No! No, that's not what I'm trying to say!" Buffy stated, looking at Willow again. "I'm trying to say that I understood him, Willow. That everything about him made complete sense to me. That I was falling in love with him..."
Willow stared at her.
"In love?"
Buffy sunk down on her friend's bed, near tears again.
"Not me! I mean, I remember him the way he is and not how my hormonal, fifteen year old brain wanted him to be! At least I think I do. I'm so confused, I can't get my head straight. And all these feelings, they're still there. I felt them, and they haven't just gone away. All these... memories just tie up into a huge knot somewhere inside and I can't get it undone! I don't know what to do, Willow."
At that her tears spilled over and Willow got to her feet, taking a seat next to the Slayer before wrapping her arms comfortingly around her.
"It'll be okay," was all she could think of to say. "Don't worry. It'll be okay."
"How?" Buffy demanded, pulling back and looking at her friend. "How can it be when... when I miss him? I really miss him!" She suddenly laughed. "It's so funny when you think about it. I hate him, but I miss him. One moment I wanna kill him, the next I just want to..."
She stopped herself, glancing at Willow and then rising, drying her tears again and shaking her head.
"There has to be some logic to it," she said determinedly. "Some way to cure me."
"Cure love?"
"It's not my love!"
"Oh," Willow merely said and Buffy faltered, then found her resolve again.
"And it isn't even love yet. I'm pretty sure it's just a mild crush. You know, in a few days I'll shake it off." She was beginning to feel better about it, growing more confident by the second. "I will! He's a demon, Willow. That's all he is in the end. Something that's nesting inside a dead body. That's how I'll see him from now on. There's nothing real in him. None of it was real."
The last sentence came out quieter than its predecessors and she seemed to grow thoughtful before she smiled at Willow, who was observing her.
"Guess I should go see Giles," Buffy said.
"He's out of town 'til Friday. I tried to get a hold of him this morning but it was a no-go. He went to see an old friend whom he thought could help with the whole spell-breaking."
Buffy's eyes locked with Willow's.
"Mystery solved," Buffy smiled. "Good old Giles; can always count on him."
"Then I suppose he might be back early."
"I'll go check his apartment tomorrow," Buffy said, pausing before she continued: "I'm not sure I'm all there yet, so I don't know if I can come back to school... right away, but how much in the doghouse am I when it comes to catching up with my classes? What have you told the teachers? That's all I need right now, all my professors branding me Slacker Girl."
"Don't worry, I talked to your mom and we thought up a brilliant cover."
"Which was?"
"You had to go visit the farm where your childhood horse Wilbur was drawing his last few breaths. The farm is conveniently located in Arizona."
"Hah. I'm taking it it'll be a hoot catching up with people around campus. And wasn't Wilbur a pig?"
"Not for you."
Buffy smiled at that, then it faded and she sighed.
"What a mess."
Willow adopted an encouraging expression and Buffy tried to let it transfer into her, give her a spot of hope that everything would work itself out. But it sure looked dark, didn't it?
"So, what else is new around campus?" she asked, searching for a distraction.
Any kind of distraction.
"Well, Illuminatus are playing at the Bronze tomorrow night, and then we have a math test on Friday. And on Saturday there's the party at Riley's fraternity, which..."
Buffy's eyes grew round before she exclaimed:
"Oh, my God! Riley!"
The next moment she was out the door, Willow staring at it as it slowly slid closed.
"Now, that was just a bit too familiar," she said to herself.
¤
Riley looked up as Buffy knocked on the doorframe of his room, the door standing open as he was packing a bag, about to head out. He straightened his back, eyeing her for a long moment. She was hesitant. And damn well should be.
She was actually a little bit more than hesitant, she was uncertain of what she wanted to say to him. Her emotions were a mixed up jumble right now, and she knew she cared about him so very much, but would it be fair to him to push this relationship between them when she was still so torn about her feelings toward another man.
She checked herself as that thought ran through her head, sudden dread appearing as she realized how easily it had just passed through. How simple it had seemed to admit that she had feelings for an evil, undead, self-involved, idiotic, wanting-her-dead thing!
She bit her cheek as she wanted to reproach herself for being too harsh.
He may be demonic, he may lack self-control, he may use the word 'bloody' for purposes it doesn't seem intended for, but he's not a thing, the side to her, still holding way too much empathy for him, stated with a simplicity still hard for the Slayer to fully get.
She waved it away and focused on her boyfriend.
Boyfriend?
She supposed he officially wasn't.
"I'm sorry," she said, knowing how it was far from enough. "My world is of the freakish kind and freakish occurrences do... occur," she added, but he didn't return her smile.
"I did notice that," he then said. "But seeing you with him..."
"Oh, God, you don't have to think about that anymore, I promise you it's so over I hardly think... about it. Which isn't true and I don't wanna lie 'cause frankly that's a bad way to start. I do think about him... Not as in him, I mean as in what happened 'cause it was one of the freakish things. The freakiest, even, and I can't not think about it 'cause I might lose my mind and you know what they say – a mind lost is lost forever. Usually, at least and... I'm rambling. I know it. So I'm stopping."
She took a small breath, standing back and awaiting his reaction. He clenched his jaws together, which was never a good sign.
"I don't know what happened, and I don't think I wanna know," he finally murmured. "I get that you weren't yourself. Willow had a pretty long explanation for your behavior and I heard it, but I don't know if I bought it. The last spell that had you be with someone who wasn't me, that was with him too, wasn't it? I just feel like maybe..."
"Riley," Buffy shook her head. "Please. I don't wanna tell you that I'm back to normal, that I'm ready to go for picnics and stay over and be like it never happened. If I told you that – I'd be lying; and like I just said – bad way to start. But you have to believe me when I say that you mean too much to me to lose over something like this. Just give me a few days; will you do that for me? I'll come to the party on Saturday and we can talk more then, okay?"
He was about to say something, but changed his mind and simply nodded his agreement.
¤
Spike was in a room, heavy chains binding his wrists to the wall behind him. He was standing, trying to see through the thick blackness in front of him, but there was nothing there.
"This is where I'll keep you," Buffy's voice whispered in his ear.
"Don't trust her," Angelus said.
"Kill her," Dru demanded. "Kill her for me."
"She'll make you feel things," Angelus picked up, a silky sleeve stroking Spike's right arm and he turned his head to the side, but shadow was still all he could see. "She'll make you regret things. She'll make you believe in things."
"Why can't you kill her!" Dru's voice exclaimed.
Spike tried to tug at his restraints, but they barely budged.
"When I look at you... all I see is the Slayer."
He growled, feeling his face vamp out.
"This is where I'll keep you," Buffy repeated, a sudden ray of light appearing from the ceiling and falling down a few feet from him, hitting the form of the Slayer, his gaze resting on her blonde locks, her face soft as a smile rested on her lips. "You'll always be safe here. You know that."
He strained his arms, putting every last muscle into trying to tear loose, but nothing happened and she stepped out of the light, through the dark until she was right there, her hands sliding up his torso, her mouth meeting his gently. The demon retracted as the kiss was met, his bonds suddenly slacking and he pulled her tight to him.
He woke at that, sitting up with a frustrated snarl and grabbing his pillow, throwing it across the room with a louder growl.
"Buggering bitch!" he cursed under his breath.
If he could have he would have clawed himself away from these feelings of helplessness and depravation; but as bravely as he had fought them, as obvious had his final succumbing to them been to him. A long ways coming... Ironic, but there none the less. Taunting him, laughing at him, not leaving him alone. And these sodding dreams!
He hadn't dreamt for years and now they had to plague him?
He made up his mind, getting up and getting dressed he walked upstairs, finding the crypt surprisingly enough in total dark.
Must be later than I thought, he grumbled.
Considering Willy's he still found himself steering his feet towards the Bronze.
¤
"Can't you at least try to have fun?" Willow asked Buffy, who sat twirling her cup between her hands absentmindedly.
"Yeah, Buff," Xander agreed, smiling at her. "What's with the rain on our parade?" Both Wicca and Slayer gave him a look. "What? 'Cause of the return and the joy and there would be trumpets flaring if the band had supplied them," he said, giving a half-nod to the stage.
"Sorry, Xand," Buffy muttered. "Not into the groove tonight, I guess. And the flaring of trumpets are done well without," she added and he smirked.
"Alright, I bow to thy will. But you should be smiling as widely as I am, is all I'm saying," he stated, spotting Anya entering across the room and raising one hand to wave her over. "The nightmare's finally over! You're out of the clutches of the evildemonicsadistichatefulfiend and hopefully you'll get around to staking him any time soon!"
"Xander!" Willow said, glancing at Buffy, whose face hadn't shifted.
"What?" he asked. "We're all in this club together, Willow, it's not like this is news. Vamp is bad. Vamp is slain. Vamp will never rise again."
"Wow," Buffy said, "we should have that put on our T-shirts."
"And our stickers," Willow nodded. "We can spread this message to anyone who ever needed something to believe in."
Xander gave them both a friendly glare as Anya arrived at his side, linking her arms around him.
"Hey," she said, receiving greetings from the other two. "Anything happen?"
"The Scoobies are raising money for T-shirts and stickers," Willow replied.
"We've officially entered the twilight zone," Buffy added. "Where evil is black and good is white and there never is anything in between."
Xander frowned.
"I get the feeling that comment was dropped on my behalf," he said, but Buffy rose, granting him the first bleak resemblance of a smile that evening and excusing herself.
She walked up the stairs taking her up to the mezzanine overlooking the dance floor. Leaning against the rail she drew a slow breath, letting it out in the same manner.
She didn't know how to deal. Her pep-talk she had had with Willow the day prior had been efficient for about half an hour – until she stood before Riley – and then all the doubt crept back through her defenses. It was a struggle, first being so sure of one thing to then be convinced of the complete opposite. She had forgotten how willing she had been when she was younger to forgive, to sympathize, to listen. How important it had been to her to keep an open mind. How she had told herself that as long as she was willing to walk in somebody else's shoes she should be totally comfortable walking in hers.
Now she shook her head at herself.
I've done a lot of growing up since then, she thought. The old rules don't apply anymore.
And still the old mindset seemed fixated on sticking around. Turning everything she threw at it, as a righteous reason to forget about what had happened with the evildemonicsadistichatefulfiend, into a whole other angle and adding a but-what-if to every last sentence.
Suddenly her gaze caught on the top of a familiar head and her heart instantly raced in her chest, butterflies dancing in her stomach in a rush that she hadn't experienced in a very long time. She straightened her posture, taking a step back, into the shadows, afraid that he'd single out her breathing, her movements, her pulse, and look up.
God, you're silly, she told herself.
And still she couldn't help but like it.
The sudden thrill was of a new kind.
Forbidden, unwonted, tingly.
Okay, stop, she instructed, turning and walking back down the stairs.
She reached the last step, moving her gaze up and halting as her eyes met his. And he was close. Very close. Reach-out-and-touch close. She crossed her arms over her chest, adopting an expression which she prayed was as annoyed as she felt with herself.
"Thought I made you weak," she said.
He gritted his teeth.
Bloody hell, this was gonna have to be done the drop-down-to-the-center-of-the-Earth-and-get-scolded-alive hard, wasn't it?
"Not under just any circumstance," he then smirked, his gaze running down her form and her eyes were sharp as he rested his in them once more.
"Thought you hadn't exactly acquired a taste for the feeling," she remarked and he clenched his fists together tightly.
"Think I'm here to see you, Slayer?" he asked coolly, stepping up and passed her as he continued the way she had just come.
She kept herself from turning her head and watching his ascent, stepping down and walking back up to Xander, Anya and Willow.
"You okay?" Willow asked as Buffy sat down on her former chair.
"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Buffy replied, grabbing her unfinished drink and swallowing it in one gulp. "I miss alcohol," she muttered, then brightly added: "Let's fun it up, guys. Next round's on me."
Spike watched from above, wondering for the hundredth time what force had possibly been able to bring him here tonight.
Buffy got to her feet, walking up to the bar as confidently as she could. The bartender turned to her and she opened her mouth to order at the same time as he said:
"I.D."
She closed her mouth again, pouting slightly.
"Oh, now you ask for it? Is it 'cause I don't have a lethal looking, leather wearing male by my side, is that it?"
The bartender looked her over, then simply repeated:
"I.D."
"I'll have a beer," Spike said right behind her and she shut her eyes briefly.
"Again with the beer?" she asked, turning around and locking her gaze with his.
"It has its charm," he replied.
"You wouldn't feel the need to keep a clear head, would you?" she wondered teasingly and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Change that to whiskey," he told the bartender and Buffy rolled her eyes at him.
He merely smirked in that self-confident, infuriating way; grabbing the glass at it was put on the counter, the arm of his duster brushing her bare skin and she was seconds away from grabbing him and latching herself to him permanently when he stepped back and turned from her, walking away nonchalantly.
She leaned back, seeking support on the stool next to her.
So, she seemed to still be a bit attracted to him, so what! It wasn't like it was beyond control. She hadn't actually grabbed and latched, had she?
She ordered and went back to the gang, needing desperately a diversion.
Half an hour later she laughed at one of Xander's anecdotes, feeling very relaxed and out of any thoughts relating to anything having to do with anything bleached. She had known she could do it. It's a phase, it's just a phase, she kept telling herself.
"Hi," a voice said to her right and she looked at the guy standing next to her. "Here alone?" She still couldn't quite place him and he smiled pleasantly, adding: "Joe. Remember? From the other night?"
Of course, Joe! Whom she'd been dancing so beautifully with before bleach came and interrupted.
"Oh, hi," she smiled. "'Course I remember."
"Yeah... I have to admit I've been waiting for the opportune moment, and since the dude you were with..."
"Isn't here, with me, tonight," she filled in with another smile. "He is so not here with me."
"So... Wanna dance?"
"Finish what we started?"
He smiled warmly and she returned it easily, grabbing his hand and heading for the dance floor.
Spike's gaze followed them.
There was a ripple inside of him that he couldn't ignore. This was a bad thing from many aspects.
Firstly, because it was stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. Secondly... because it verified every last suspicion he had had about what exactly bad been going on within him for the past few days. Yes, he had realized it when she attacked him, back to her old self and eager for a slay – especially his. But had he admitted it? Seen the truth of it in the eye and tackled it? No.
So when the jealousy now rose powerfully within him at the thought – and full view – of another man's hands on her; when it made him feel blinded by it, when it made him get that this was real, what had happened between them had been irreversible and that for better or worse it had dug down deep and had no intention of ever going away, he didn't follow his first instinct.
Which was to drag her out of there if it so cost him his head in splinters.
He went with the second one. Finishing his drink he then descended to the floor of the club again, choosing a spot and leaning against the wall behind him as he quietly observed the dancers.
He wanted her. He wanted her to want him as badly as he did her. He wanted it to drive her out of her head, this... desire. He wanted her to see it on him and not be able to help herself. He wanted her to need him. He wanted to torture her with it and break his way into her life until he was so deep in that there was nothing she could do when he finally got to cross her out.
I'll taste you, he thought darkly.
He stared at the mortal holding her, at his hands touching her, and had to dig his feet back against the wall to keep himself from stalking up to them. She smiled at something the human said and suddenly there was a pang inside the vampire, the envy reached a new level and he growled silently, pushing away from the wall and walking right at the edge of the dance floor, his gaze finally catching hers and holding it as he slowly made his way passed them, releasing it as he went for the exit.
Buffy watched him disappear, numbed by the look of silent fury in his eyes.
He hates me, she thought.
Blinking she took a step away from Joe, smiling slightly, though she knew it was distracted as she said something about air and left him there, heading for the backdoor and the alley. She entered it, putting her arms around her and closing her eyes, drawing deep breaths and trying to get herself from shaking.
He hates me, her mind repeated and then she opened her eyes, glaring at the brick wall before her. Dammit, get a hold on yourself! He's always hated you! He hated you right through the passed two weeks.
She turned abruptly and went back inside, walking up to the table to grab her coat.
"Leaving?" Willow asked, disappointed.
"I tried for the fun," Buffy said. "I'm just not up for it tonight."
"We'll go soon too," Xander put in and Buffy gave him a smile.
"No, stay," she encouraged. "I'm patrolling so I might be late," she added to Willow.
"I could come with," the redhead offered.
"No, I need to blow off some steam. Not that there's any steam to blow off. I mean, literally. I mean..."
"Going to kill something?" Xander interrupted helpfully.
"Yes."
And at that, she did.
¤
Kicking up her leg she hit the vampire square in the chest. It stumbled backwards and she frowned.
"That's supposed to make you topple over," she grumbled. "Now I'm starting to get cranky."
It met her hits, delivering one of its own to her side and having her fold with pain. Something struck her on the neck and she lost her balance, rolling over she grabbed the stick the creature was swinging at her head and fought to keep it away from her face as it kept pressing it down. Then she got the better grip and tore it out of its hands as she flipped herself to her feet, spinning around and kicking a foot up, hitting its cheek and making it fly through the air. She was on it as soon as it touched ground, raising the stick still in her grasp and driving it through the demon's ribcage. It burst into ashes with a growl and she blew a stray lock out of her forehead as she watched the dust settle.
"Any last wish?" she asked, then crinkled her nose up. "Oh, right."
"Bollocks," Spike's voice sounded and she turned around, eyebrows rising as her eyes landed on where he had stopped, cigarette between lips and frown safely secured on his brow.
He hadn't expected to see her, and this unexpectedness wasn't appreciated, because suddenly all the seething anger he had been relishing in was carefully pulling back, making way for a strange curiosity, silent and resting it lay right beneath the surface, making him wonder why she was there, now, when she should be clubbing with her little posse. Making him want to query her motives for showing up at all hours wherever he found himself; even in his sleep.
He clenched his jaws together.
Bloody hell.
She ignored the swivel in her stomach.
"What're you doing here?" she asked and his eyebrow rose even higher.
"I live here," he replied with a nod to his crypt, located close by.
She looked perplexed, and then she seemed to realize exactly where she was. He tilted his head a little to the side, eyeing her in the silence. Then she reached down and grabbed her stake, lying on the ground by her feet, tucking it in the back of her pants before walking passed him.
"Can't you choose any of the other eleven cemeteries to haunt?" he asked, making her stop and turn to him. "Must you kill my kin in my backyard?"
"As far as I know you don't mind killing your kin yourself these days," she remarked testily.
"Yes, but being slain... by a girl... is such an undignified way to go," he sighed.
"Facing the Slayer isn't undignified," she bit back and he smirked. "And stop looking at me like that."
He dropped the fag to the ground, stepping on it before coming up to her.
"Take it you're back to full capacity?"
"Wanna find out?"
He merely smiled again.
"How's the shoulder?" he inquired and she looked at him for a moment, then answered:
"Fine." He stepped passed her, on his way up to the crypt when she said: "Why didn't you let them have me?"
He paused, glancing back at her and meeting her gaze.
"Who?"
"The dozen or so demons knocking at your door."
"There were three," he pointed out, "and I wasn't about to hand you over to some fledglings out for an easy bite."
"They weren't fledglings," she said. "Why didn't you let them...?"
"Does it matter?" he cut in, turning to her fully. "It doesn't," he then added. "It's done."
"You hate me more than anyone. You've wanted me dead for ages. It matters. ...You thought the gang'd be after you? Thought you'd have to leave Sunnydale?"
"Yes. Exactly."
She observed him.
"Why did you sleep with me?"
"I didn't," he said. "In retrospect I can safely say I slept with her."
She looked quizzical.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you're not fifteen anymore. That you're nothing like you were two days ago. That I really don't like you."
"I'm not two people," she stated.
He looked at her in that inquisitive way again and she swallowed.
"You were different," he then said.
"Yeah, well, I'm not fifteen anymore. Buffy then only had to worry about boys and getting the latest nail polish to put on her shelf. She could go to the mall and pick out an outfit without wondering if it'd get ruined in her next fight for her life. She could spend her allowance on shoes instead of new weapons! She knew who was who in Hollywood and she knew where to look for the best moccachinos, but I can't do that, okay! I have to beat the bad guys and save the day and I don't have time for hair and make-up! If I'm lucky I'll spend a few dollars on me each month, but I can't be selfish! I can't just run off from school or from friends or from life just 'cause I feel like it and oh, my God, I did it."
She stopped her talking with one hand by her mouth, looking startled. He frowned.
"Did I miss a part?"
She stared at him.
"I did it," she repeated. "I made it happen. ...I made a wish."
He stared back.
"A wish?"
"I wished that I could be fifteen again! That I could be back before any of the Slayer stuff happened! It was..."
"...your fault," he filled in, a satisfied expression taking its place on his features.
"Are you gonna rub it in now?"
"Bloody right I am," he nodded.
"Yeah, because you had such a terrible time, didn't you?"
"Why wouldn't I have had a terrible time?"
"Why! I cooked for you..."
"Hah, cooked. You got me takeout – very classy."
"Hey! I made breakfast! I heated your blood for you! I sure as hell helped with the interior design and did you even thank me? No, it was bloody curtains this and bloody cushions that! Well, those cushions sure came in handy when we...! When... When we..."
She trailed off and he raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, they worked good as buffers, but what am I supposed to do with 'em now?"
"Aren't you still gonna use them as... buffers?"
"You know, Summers, you brought stuff in there that I didn't have any say in, you migrated the bloody spiders – which I'd grown pretty fond of – and you even added to my wardrobe, but I still don't think that gives you the right to ask about my need for buffers or no."
Her eyes widened.
"No," she murmured.
"Further more, you owe me an apology."
"An apology? For what, blessing you with some style?"
"For dragging me into the mess in the first place!"
"I didn't drag you into it! You left the door wide open and pretty much asked me to come right in!"
"'Pretty much asked you'!"
"You didn't throw me out!"
"I told you to leave! What was I supposed to do!"
"Telling a fifteen year old? Oh, please. You shouldn't have taken no for an answer! I can't believe you took no for an answer!"
"Is there any reason why we're even having this discussion! I can't rewind time and throw you out now, can I? Or, if you'd like, we can step into my humble-but-poshed-up abode and I can throw you out now! Would that fit milady? ...Or would you rather I turned down the bed for you?"
"I wasn't in your bed, remember?"
"Thought you weren't two people."
"Shut up," she murmured. "And where do you come off anyway? You weren't exactly apposed to the scenario once it happened, were you?"
"Scenario?"
"You even liked it."
"I always like it."
"So you did like it?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you wanted it," she answered, though her tone was taunting and he could barely stand it.
She approached him slowly, wishing that she didn't need to hear this, but knowing that she did; so very much. She continued quietly:
"That you enjoyed holding me. That you'd thought about it before..."
"Wouldn't that be something?" he grumbled, looking down at her where she stopped before him.
She wished she hadn't gotten quite so near him, but it was too late for that now.
He stared into her eyes, feeling everything sift into oblivion.
"It was temporary," he mumbled and she furrowed her brow again.
"What was?" she asked.
"Everything but this," he murmured, his mouth meeting hers the following instant and her arms went around him without her telling them to.
The passion their tongues were building made her knees grow weak, his hands pressing her to him and her whole being responding to him with a sensitivity which astounded her. She clung to him, the heat she felt rising, as the kiss grew more passionate, being blinding.
He couldn't believe how the feel of her under his hands could drive him clear cross any border he had ever known.
And then she pushed away from him, drawing a breath and trying to get away fully, unable to as he grabbed her wrists.
"I can't," she said.
"Then let me," he mumbled, another moment of objecting from her before she let him pull her close again, meeting his kiss and wrapping her arms around him. "Come inside," he said, mouth still to hers.
She kissed him and then replied:
"No."
"Come inside with me," he said, a near plea in his voice which he was unable to prevent.
He put his hands on either side of her face, making her meet his gaze. She held it, knowing that she was about to give in. And then she kissed him quickly, stepping back and away from his touch.
"No," she repeated. "I can't. I won't," she added the last when he was about to say something more. She began to back away from him. "Just... stay away from me."
"Buffy."
"I'll stay away too, I swear," she said. "No more backyard slayage. No more Bronze. We need to... not ever do that again. Ever."
"Why are you still talking?" he asked, taking a step forward and she swirled around saying:
"I'm leaving," and then she hurried away, beginning to run and soon being out of sight.
He sighed.
Damn.