| Subject: Ficlet (Spoilers) Beauty and the Beast (Storm Front, Part 3) |
Author:
Heather Long
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Date Posted: 19:10:05 03/16/02 Sat
The air felt heavy, oppressive. Rain was coming. Buffy followed the familiar beaten path of her patrol through Sunnydale. It was quiet though, almost too quiet. But her memories told her that the quiet had been in place for months. Helpful things, these memories, piping up at just the right moments to fill in the blanks.
She glanced towards the road and half wondered if there was a world beyond the pocket universe they'd created in Sunnydale. Was it all really some blank oblivion that wouldn't appear until they wandered through it?
Blank oblivion. Wouldn't that be apropos? Rubbing a hand against her temple, the headache that seemed to be hovering behind her eyes since her "arrival" hadn't improved with her nap. Very little seemed to have improved since she'd gone to try and sort this all out. Her dreams plagued her, dazzling with visions of darkness and pain.
Maybe that was just life. Darkness and pain.
Twirling her stake in her finger tips, she strolled through the cemetary. A good fight would help right now, a nice vampire to stake. Something neat, clean and fitting perfectly in with what she was supposed to be doing as opposed to making moral decisions in the middle of crises.
"Slayer?"
She jumped and whipped around, stake at ready. "Spike! What are you doing here? Don't you have research to be doing or something?"
He shrugged some, hands tucking into the trousers of his slacks. "We knocked off for the evening. I've got a bit of planning to do. Your mum told us you'd slipped out to do the patrolling, so I figured to find you here."
Buffy sighed and sat down on a crypt stone. "This is so wrong."
"Actually, this is the first familiar thing we've done here." Spike grinned crookedly, but then nodded. "But I know what you mean. The half-memories are driving me loony."
"You too?"
"Yeah." He sat down next to her and they both stared off into the night. "Had a long talk with Rupert. Decent enough fellow and that's the odd thing, before, he was just a nuisance, intelligent and useful, but a nuisance. Now I find myself, actually admiring him." Spike patted his chest. "Me, admirning him. Go figure."
Buffy's mouth quirked into the forerunner of a smile. "Well, you do have that Giles Jr. thing going on, kinda like Randy revisit only without the tweed."
Wheeling his head around. "Giles Jr.? I think not! This suit is one hundred percent silk and I'm not a puffering nancy boy." His tone softened at her giggle. "Besides, I'm better looking. Charming too." That earned him a rare, real laugh. "That's really good to hear."
"Hmm?" Buffy glanced up at him, still smiling.
"The sound of your laughter. I've missed it."
She sobered slowly, her eyes meeting and holding his. Their eyes searched each others, constantly seeking answers that neither had the words to ask. She lifted her hand to touch his face, a light touch, just the tips trailing down over his cheek. "I have to keep reminding myself this is real."
Bending his head down, he whispered. "Why?"
"Because it feels real and it doesn't at the same time." Her voice possessed the same whisper, breathiness of his own. "It's...strange."
"Strange good...or strange bad?"
"I don't know."
The corner of his mouth turned upwards, the deprecating smile returning, tinged with amusement. "That sounds about right for you, Slayer. So I don't think you have anything to worry about."
"Funny." She sounded amused though. They sat there together, in companionable silence, listening to the night as it went about its business.
"Well, I should let you get to it. I've some work to do myself." Spike said after a while.
"Okie. I'll see you tomorrow then?" Her voice carried the request and hope together in it.
"Of course."
"Good night, William."
He chuckled at that. "Good night, Slayer."
She watched him stroll out of the cemetary. There was something different about the way he moved, she watched him reach the gate, let himself out and then disappear up the sidewalk. He was strolling. No swagger, no cocky balderdash, just straight strolling. How very odd. Buffy grinned inspite of herself. She liked that stroll, that casual, out for the evening air. He was relaxed, comfortable.
Still smiling as she turned her heart slammed into her ribs as she ran smack into Willow. "Woah!" Buffy backed up a pace or two. Willow's eyes weren't jet black, but her expression wasn't exactly hugs and kittens either.
"Hello, Buffy." Willow chirped with a half-smile. "Out-patrolling? Or maybe that's -- out trolling?"
"Willow." Buffy said her name slowly, memories of threats collided with warmer, fuzzier memories of late nights with hot cocoa and good girl talk. "Just out patrolling. Looking for a vamp to stake. You know, same old, same old."
"Yes, same old Buffy. Lose one man, hop in bed with another." Willow's lips curled into a sneering smile. "Didn't think I noticed the little blond you were just with? What's his name? Or do you even care?"
Buffy stared at her. This wasn't her Willow. This Willow was cold and mean.
"Oh, am I going to make you cry?" Willow could have given Cordy a run for her money on snarkiness. "Too bad, poor little Buffy, all alone and downtrodden. Really just sucks to be you, doesn't it?"
"Look, Will," Buffy offered.
"No, you look." Willow rose off the ground by a few inches, the breeze stirring up her hair. "I'm so tired of poor, pathetic Buffy, woah is her and the weight of the world. Everything is ALWAYS about you. You don't care about the people around you, the people who die for you or because of you. It's always about you and how bad you feel or how put upon you are or how desperately you want to be normal. Well sing me a new song, because you've worn out that tired old tune."
"I'm not trying to apologize here."
"Good." Willow's eyes darkened and Buffy could feel the energy crackling along her skin. "Because I don't want your apologies. I don't want to hear your reasons and I sure as hell don't want to hear your excuses."
"Okay, so this is all about you now." Buffy braced herself, she hated this, she hated the fear and she hated the indecision. But if Willow wanted to play uber-bitch, then Buffy would play along. How could they have come to this, best friends, they confided in each other about everything.
Well, almost everything, Buffy amended to herself. Willow certainly hadn't confessed about the footsie she was playing with Xander in senior year. Willow wasn't terribly forthcoming about Tara either. There were a handful of other occasions she could think of, when they were both keeping things to themselves. But otherwise, they were open books. Reasonably open.
"So?" Buffy asked her, still braced and waiting. If it came down to skills against skill, Buffy needed to take her out fast, or she was going to lose. She'd gone up against magic too many times with bad results to want to take her chances.
Willow's smile turned cooler, crueler and altogether unpleasant. "So, I brought you a present. Because we're such good old friends, that I didn't want you to think I wasn't making an effort on your behalf."
Something in her expression chilled Buffy to her toes. "Present?"
"Yeah, the idea of it came to me all of a sudden." Her eyes somehow reverted to normal and her feet touched the ground. She laughed, that kind of goofy half-snort, half-giggle that was so Willow. Buffy allowed herself a smile at the enthusiasm and genuine warmth she heard peppering the red-head's words. "So, I was thinking to myself -- I said "Self, we have to do something about Buffy. Something she would never expect. Something she's wanted forever, but couldn't ever have." And myself, well I thought about it and I replied, "I know exactly what to get her." And then it told me and it was so right, it's the absolute perfect present for you."
"Will, you're scaring me."
"No, that part comes later."
"After what?"
A figure moved out from beneath the trees behind Willow, looming over her and grinning with a rakish charm. "After me, of course."
"Here's your present, Buffy. Buffy meant Angelus. Angelus, meet the Slayer."
"It's a real," he growled. "Pleasure."
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