THE MASQUERADE IS OVER: THE MASQUERADE IS OVER
by Phoenix
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this story. Don't sue me.


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So here you are in your small little world
Kept up like a little precious virgin girl
To hear about your grace and your silly face
Wrapped up like a know in a ball of shoelace
And every time I talk to you
It sounds like you're caught in a psychological flu


* * *
Spike strolled into her dorm like he owned it, a cocky grin smeared on his pale face. His dawn blue eyes were dancing with secrets, and he was swinging his arms like a military man. She stared at him in mute surprise, then self-conciously gathered her wits.

"Spike?" *Oh yeah, great wit-gathering there.* She tried again.

"What are you doing here? In the day?"

If anything, his grin grew. *She's so cute when she's bemused.*

"I just came visiting, red. You've been a quiet little witch lately, and the rest of the Scooby Club were worried about you. I drew the bloody short straw." *Actually, they hadn't noticed anything because their all such dozy gits, and I was worried.*

Willow arched her eyebrows. It wasn't like Buffy to notice anything non-demony, and Xander didn't notice anything, period.

"Well, I've had a few things on my mind recently... " Her voice trailed off. The vampire rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what she had been constantly thinking about.

"The dog-boy upped and bloody left, pet. Nothing you can do. Just forget the loser, move on." Willow felt something inside snap when he mentioned Oz. All the hurt and anger and frustration she had been bottling up uncorked, spilling everywhere.

"I LOVED HIM! I loved him and he cheated on me and left me, and what does my best friend do about it? Nothing, she doesn't even notice that I'm broken inside! She doesn't even care, just leaves me in favour of the psycho commandoes!"

Spike was shocked and pleased with her outburst. *Carry on, witch. I knew you had fire hidden in you somewhere.* He reached out for the weeping flame, cradling her in his arms.

Dry sobs had begun to rack Willow's small frame, and she was unaware or uncaring of the strong arms that softly held her, or the gentle voice which whispered comfort in her ear.

Don't ever let them see you cheat
Don't ever let them see you bleed
Don't ever let them shake your hand
Don't ever let them believe that scam

Willow fell asleep in the vampire's arms, her red tresses splayed over his leather duster, and she found that the scent of Spike was not an entirely unpleasent one to wake up to. *Mmm, I like this.*

"Evening, luv." His voice intruded on her sleep laden thoughts, dragging her back to the reality where she lay in a vampire's arms. A vampire who couldn't bite of attack her, true, but an undead creature of the night all the same. She sat up.

"Evening, blondie." He raised a quizzical brow.

"Blondie?" She shrugged.

"You can call me luv or pet or red or witch, so why can't I call you blondie?"

"Blondie, like in the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. It could work." He paused, wondering whether it would be a good idea to bring last night up.

"Look, red, about last night.. " Willow stood up, breaking form his loose embrace, and walked to the window. The moon was shining in, and she basked in it's luminescent glow, feeling the night energies revive her.

"I've always felt like I have to be a certain person, you know? Buffy's the super hero, Xander's the comic relief, and I'm the research girl. Angel was the love interest, then the baddie, and Cordeilia was the snob with the heart of gold. Oz was the cool musician guy, he wasn't meant to like me. But he did anyway, and then, when he went, it felt like a part of me was taken away with him. Do you know what I mean? No, of course you don't know what I mean. You're a vampire, you're the bad guy."

Spike listened carefully as she told her heart to him, in case he missed anything. So this was what had been eating her up, making her beautiful eyes grey. He walked silently over to her, padding like the predator he was meant to be, and grasped his tiny waist between his pale hands, spinning her to face him.

The witch looked at him then, really looked for the first time. The moon made his alabaster skin glow, and the black behind was nothing compared to the shadows she could see hiding beneath the aeons of blue in his eyes. His pale lips were soft and full and calling for her to kiss them, but she resisted their temptation. Barely. His too blond hair had fallen from it's style while she was sleeping, the one short lock falling over his forehead making him appear childlike.

But the arms wrapped around her waist belied that theory. They were strong and hard, and she would have hated to be on the wrong end of them when they were enemies. There was a darkness to his beauty that reminded her of his capacity for cruelty and torment, and now she knew he had the strength to never make idle threats.

The overall effect of him, scent and sight and touch, was overwhelming. She could quite easily lose herself in this strange humanoid, the walking contradiction. Dark and light, anger and compassion.

"Yes, I am a vampire, luv, and so I know how you feel more than your mates could. I had to be the childe to Angelus, the patient lover to Dru, a vampire in his own right to the minions, and a bloody scary bastard to the world at large. Don't you tell me I don't understand about roles or broken hearts, because I've had my share of both."

*Oh God, but she's beautiful.* Spike had never been this close to anyone since Dru, in a non-bite way. The dim light dusted her features, paling her porcelain skin further, her green eyes filled with fierce passion. Her copper hair framed her face like art, the wan moon catching it and casting the illusion of fire. Her lipsticked mouth was moist and full and he wanted to lower his lips to hers so badly, but he resisted the temptation. Barely.

She appeared so delicate and fragile, but there was a hardness in her eyes he had never noticed, and would bet her friends hadn't either. They were a dozy bunch. The hacker was a dark horse, with talents she either didn't know of or would never tell. The vampire bet she was a powerful witch, she looked like she could think up some creative vengeance spells.

The overall effect of her, sight and scent and touch, was overwhelming. He could quite easily lose himself in this strange human, the walking contradiction. Light and darkness, love and anger.

"It's just, " she said, wanting to explain herself to him.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to play my role anymore. I want to be who I really am. Is that to much to ask?"

Skinny, and it will make you cry
Skinny, and it will make you lie
Skinny, and if it makes you soft inside
Skinny, at least you will not die

The vampire smile thinly. No, it was not too much to ask.

"Be who you want, ducks. Don't play the game if you don't want to. It's up to you, isn't it?" Willow took a step back from him, but no further. His hands were still placed lightly on her hips, and she liked to feel the coolness there. *Bad Willow.*

"I suppose it is. But will they still like me, if I don't research stuff for them? If I want to kick demon ass? If I, God help me, want to be an airhead? I'm afraid, Spike. I'm afraid I'll lose my friends if I don't fit into my corner anymore."

"I can't tell you how they will react, or even if they'll bloody notice. All I can say is that I'll stick by you. You're alright, Willow."

The effect of him saying he liked her, combined with the actual use of her name, shocked the witch into silence. *He likes me! Ohmygod, ohmygod. Does he like me, or does he like me? Do I want him to like me?* She stole another glance. *Am I a red-blooded female? Of course I want him to like me!*

And if you take a good look at them
All caught up in their graciousless win
Every sin is their seamless smile

Everyone has their part to play in the global masquerade. No one is who they really are, not all the time. They all play their part, then exit the stage. It takes the few special ones to break away from the theatrics, to declare that they want to improvise. Then the whole department starts to decay.

Will go on for a countless while
And just because they think they won
It just means that the shit has just begun

"So how do I go about this, blondie? Do I stand up in class and announce my retirement, or do I gradually break away? Maybe I need some big change in my life, to start it all."

"I don't know how you bloody do it, just try. Refuse to do demon research one night, go spell casting instead, if that's what you sodding want to do. All I know is that the longer you put it off, the harder it will be. You only have the one life, luv, so use it how you want."

The redhead had never realised how much Spike knew about life and the living of it. She, like the rest of the Scooby Gang, had assumed he had spent his extended years killing and torturing non-stop. It turned out that he was a 'people person', and knew how their minds worked.

It was kind of scary that a vampire knew you better than you knew yourself.

Don't ever let them see you cheat
Don't ever let them see you beat
Don't ever let them shake your hand
Don't ever let them believe that scam

Spike had left her dorm at midnight, not wanting another day outing, and Willow's mind was in a whirl. She had spent the day on a cloud, and even Buffy had noticed enough to inquire. As an explanation, the witch told her friend that she was 'thinking'.

She had barely listened at the wicca group meeting, catching only 'Samhain' and 'ritual'. She would catch up with Tara later, maybe try that rose spell again, and hope that it didn't try to attack them.

She never heard the vampires creep up behind her, hardly felt the pipe connect with the back of her skull, and she was unconscious when they drained her.

They left her, broken and bloody and unconscious, in the cemetery she had been taking a shortcut through to Dragon's Cove. No one would notice her. No one who cared.

Skinny, and it will make you cry
Skinny, and it will make you lie
Skinny, and if it makes you soft inside
Skinny, at least you will not die

Spike found her, her body coloured with flecks of her own blood, her eyes glazed in near death. There was nothing anyone could do, she had lost too much blood and there was no time for hospitals.

He couldn't bear to lose her like this, a death unworthy of her fire.

The vampire ripped his wrist open and held it to her still mouth, praying to a god that he didn't care about that she would take it.

"Come on, Willow, drink." He muttered like a mantra, and at last her mouth opened and he lowered his wrist.

He was nearly dry himself when she was through, but he would recover. Her features were already changing, painting a picture of eternal youth. Her dry, split hair grew full and rich, her body sprouting curves that would never disappear.

The new born vampire opened her fierce eyes to the night...


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