Chapter 2
The Morning After

"I'm suffering the afterness of a bad night of…badness."
-Buffy, 'Beer Bad'

The slamming of a door woke Willow the next morning. "I cannot believe him!" Buffy spat out in frustration.

Willow winced at the loud noise and pulled the pillow over her head. She wanted to die. Her mouth tasted…and her stomach felt…and she didn't even want to think about her head. She didn't want to think at all. Certainly not about the all-too-clear memories of the night before. I thought you weren't supposed to remember anything on the day after, she lamented. But it was crystal clear, in a muddled sort of way – less than 2 weeks after her boyfriend left she was flirting with another guy, dancing with him, kissing him. And not just any guy, either.

"Spike!" Buffy's rant continued, "He drives me up a wall! I'm out all night looking for him with Giles, we come home at dawn, and there he is on the couch – watching TV! And then he has the gall to ask us where we've been all night!"

"Uh, Buffy…" Willow wasn't optimistic about her ability to stop her friend's tirade, but she had to try, her head hurt too much.

"I swear, I almost killed him! Giles should have let me. I could have…"

"What?" Will yelped, and sat up abruptly. In her muzzy-brained state she was suddenly worried that Spike had been hurt. But concern for Spike quickly turned into another concern altogether, and she raced for the bathroom.

Buffy must have followed, because Willow had no sooner begun to empty her stomach when she felt her hair being pulled back from her face. There was no time to express her gratitude, though, as she clung to the toilet.

She felt a little better after she'd finished, and rinsing out her mouth and brushing her teeth made her feel almost human again. Only the headache remained, and she headed back to her room to hunt up some painkillers, Buffy trailing behind with concern written all over her face.

"I'd ask if you were sick, but…" the blonde began, hesitantly. Willow just gave her a guilty, yet defiant look and went on searching for aspirin. Buffy sighed, sounding disappointed, "Did we have a little too much fun last night?"

And then some, she thought with remorse, her conscience heavy. She wasn't even sure why she'd spent so much time with Spike last night. Her first impulse had been to walk away. Actually, her first impulse had been to scream and run. It wasn't that long ago that he'd last tried to kill her, after all.

But first there'd been the drinks, and then the dancing… Which I shouldn't have enjoyed so much, she berated herself, Or at all! It was Spike. She could still feel his body pressed up against hers, though, the feel of his lips. Bad Willow! Stop that! It's Spike - evil, vampire, bad! Remember? And yet, he'd seemed so sympathetic when they were talking. Willow even thought he might have been sincere…

She muttered defensively, "I thought it would make me feel better." The alcohol, she thought, even more defensively, not Spike, not flirting with a vampire.

"Did it?" Buffy's tone was hard.

"For a while, at least. I needed that, Buffy." The alcohol, certainly, but the commiseration even more. She'd needed someone to talk to, someone that didn't blow her off or lecture her. She hadn't meant for things to go so far.

"No, you didn't. Will, drinking isn't the way to deal with your problems," Buffy had the full-on lecture tone working, "Believe me, I know."

Yeah, you're an expert at handling break-ups well, Willow thought sarcastically. She didn't say it though, instead concentrating on opening the bottle of headache medicine and swallowing down the tablets. All Buffy was managing to do with this little lecture was make her feel all sulky and rebellious. Or maybe it was the hangover. Either way, it was driving her crazy.

Willow almost forgot to feel guilty about Spike, about anything from the night before. It had certainly felt a lot better than this little conversation. Looking back on it, in fact, her night out seemed like a sock-hop compared to some of Buffy's 'coping skills' in the past.

"Will, listen to me. I know how you feel, I do. But you can't try to make the pain disappear all at once. It won't. You've just got to deal with it, one day at a time. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but things will get better. It just won't happen right away, no matter what you do. You said it yourself, getting drunk only made it feel better for a little while."

Willow nearly growled. It was her life, Buffy had no right to tell her what to do. She would not be lectured by her own best friend, especially about this.

"It was just one night, Buffy, don't make such a big deal."

"I care about you, Willow. It's killing me to see you in this much pain and not be able to help, but you've got to believe me about this. There aren't any shortcuts here, you've just got to go through the pain."

You care? Then where were you when I needed someone last night? Out. Chasing harmless vampires apparently ranked much higher in Buffy's priorities than taking the time to 'go through the pain' with her.

"Lay off, Buffy, will you?" she finally snapped, "I'm not in the mood for this right now, my head hurts." She crawled back into bed, pulling the pillows over her head and effectively ending the conversation.

"Fine, be that way," Buffy muttered, crawling into her own bed to catch up on her lost night's sleep. But she still managed to have the last word. "Just remember, there's worse things that could happen than a hangover. And I'm not talking about turning into a cavewoman, either."

Like kissing a vampire? Willow thought to herself guiltily. Her conscience was apparently even more persistent than her best friend. Spending all night drinking and flirting with an awful, evil, incredibly sexy vampire? No, not sexy. Okay, he is, but don't think about him that way! Don't think about him at all! Willow groaned to herself.

Several hours later, Willow came reluctantly back to consciousness. Her head hurt less, but only by a matter of degrees. She groggily levered herself out of bed and reached for the aspirin. Then she noticed Buffy sitting on the other bed, watching her with a determined look on her face.

Uh-oh, she thought, Round two.

She was right.

"Willow, I'm sorry if you're upset at me for the things I said earlier," Buffy began, obviously trying to placate her roommate, "But you have to understand…"

"Understand?" For some reason the phrase just rubbed Willow the wrong way. "What do I have to understand?"

"Listen, I know you're angry right now. I know all about that. When Angel left, it hurt so much…"

"You know all about it?" Willow snapped, not wanting to hear about Angel, or any other vampire, right at that moment. "You know what it feels like to have your boyfriend cheat on you with another werewolf, then leave town?"

"Not the cheating part, no," Buffy doggedly replied, "But the leaving, and the pain, and the anger. I dounderstand."

"Buffy, in case you couldn't tell, I'm really not in the mood for a heart-to-heart right now."

"Well, if you hadn't been drinking last night, you might be in a better mood," Buffy snapped, dropping the 'understanding' tone.

Willow knew Buffy was probably right, but her own overwhelming guilt about the night before, including a lot of things the other girl would be even more judgmental about, was just making her rather perversely resistant to Buffy's criticism. Rather than snap and yell at her roommate any more, she grabbed her shower things and headed for the bathroom. Maybe she could drown her feelings in hot water. And maybe Buffy would give up on the lectures.

When she got back to the room, though, Willow found that Buffy still looked concerned.

"This just really isn't like you, Will," she began, once more trying a different approach, "That's why I'm so worried."

The redhead was only too aware of just how unlike her it truly was.

"I know that, Buffy," she conceded, "I know all of that. But I just don't want to talk about it right now." She dropped her stuff on the bed, grabbed her bag, and headed out the door before the other girl could even begin to respond.

Once outside the building, though, Willow found herself at a loss for a direction to head in. She didn't have class until later in the day, and her head was still muzzy enough that studying in the library was out of the question, even if she'd been in the mood.

Somewhere indoors, she thought, squinting in the bright sunlight. Xander's place was dark, but he was probably still asleep. And as for Giles…

Willow stopped walking, as the one thing she'd been steadily ignoring came crashing to the forefront of her thoughts. Spike, and the evening she'd spent with him. She couldn't keep avoiding it, and sooner or later, she'd have to go over to Giles' apartment.

She found a bench in the shade and sat down, determined to think things through. She ignored all the guilt and confusion about why shehad acted the way she had, and focused on Spike's motives instead. She figured she was in trouble one of two ways. Either Spike had been toying with her last night – quite likely – or, he'd actually been sincere, which was a whole different level of problem.

If he'd just been messing with her, she was in for a world of ridicule today, which would not be fun at all. But, Willow was fairly certain that it would be a private ridicule. Spike was too smart to say or do anything that might possibly get himself staked. In fact, with a little effort she could probably convince him to pretend that the whole incident never happened. So she would suffer a bit, but not as much as she might if circumstances were different.

The much trickier and more confusing scenario was the one in which Spike actually meant all the nice things he'd said and done. What if he had enjoyed dancing with her? What if he really had wanted to come up to her room? And what if he'd wanted to kiss her goodnight?

This was more than she wanted to deal with on a morning like she was having. She felt herself floundering in speculation, and she quickly cast her mind over the events of the previous evening, looking for something to hold on to.

Spike hadn't wanted to drink alone. That was it. He'd been lonely, and miserable, and wanted company, just like Willow had. She sighed in relief. Spike had, essentially, been looking for a friend, or whatever the vampire equivalent was.

Friend, she could do, or at least non-enemy. If she couldn't convince him to forget that anything had happened at all, then she could certainly compromise and just be friends with the vampire. Anything, if it meant the rest of the world never found out about her lapse in judgment. She'd just explain to Spike that everything else from that evening had been the fault of all that alcohol. But she could still be friends with him, as long as the others didn't find out.

That last bit made her pause a moment. The rest of the gang would definitely not approve, so why was she even considering this friendship, or whatever it was?

Because Spike deserves it, she thought, If he was sincere last night, then he really cheered me up, and that deserves some turnabout. He's probably really lonely, stuck in that bathtub all day.

This was, of course, provided that she was reading him right. Otherwise, it was back to ridicule and guilt. But she couldn't postpone the moment forever. She had to find out. Squaring her shoulders, and taking a deep breath, Willow forced herself to head for Giles' apartment.