Standing on the porch with Spike, Buffy ached inside as she admitted to herself that it was finally time to let go of his hand. As the fire within her fizzled and died, she almost moaned in despair. She wanted to grab right onto him again, and keep holding -- all night long, if possible. But she knew she couldn't just, well, jump into bed with him, like she had been doing for the past month and a half or so.
She had the sudden realization that that she didn't want to just "have sex" with Spike anymore. If -- or was it when? -- she went to bed with Spike again she wanted it to be . . . making love. Either before, or after -- or maybe during, she thought with a blush -- those three little words were gonna be involved. She actually did grab onto his hand at that point, so she could savor the vision that flashed before her. Sweaty bodies. Hot kisses. Soft cries and growls. And the light in his eyes as she said the words to him.
Aaaarrrgh! she thought, overwhelmed with lust, embarrassment, and frustration. Bad Buffy!
Spike just stared at her. "Somethin' wrong, luv?"
She just stared back at him a moment. God, it's true. It's not about using him to make the emptiness go away. It's not about sex for the sake of feeling something, anything. I want Spike. I want Spike! I don't know if I love him, but God do I want him!
Buffy decided she just had to do something with all that fire rolling around inside her. So she jumped into his arms, and poured it all right back into Spike with a goodnight kiss that should've ignited his hair.
It took a long time to get Spike to leave after that, and to get herself to let him leave. But eventually she did, with a promise to see him the next day, in regards to a little project Spike had suggested.
Dawn's gonna be thrilled, she thought, as she waited on the porch to speak with Tara, who was looking nearly as reluctant to leave as Spike had.
But although Tara and Willow had become very warm with each other again, it looked like they weren't quite ready to get . . . hot . . . with each other yet. Buffy was sure it was just a matter of time, though -- the two of them were giving each other such ooey-gooey looks that she started feeling all gooey herself . . . as well as a little jealous. Spike could be passionate, but she doubted he could ever let himself be gooey.
Then she thought about Dawn's story about him having been a poet. There's possibilities there . . . what's more gooey than writing poetry for your lady love? Then she remembered that he'd been a bad poet. Ugh! Gimme flowers and candlelight, or just wild nights with houses falling down around us, but please don't send me bad poetry, Spike!
She shook her head with a chuckle. Wild sexual fantasies, and syrupy-sweet romantic musings, within five minutes of each other. And all about Spike. Things certainly had changed up there in her head. And down there in her heart. And . . . She blushed and left the thought unfinished.
That brought her back to her reason for speaking to Tara. After the witch had detached herself from Willow, Buffy followed her down the stairs to the sidewalk and called to her, "Tara?" As she caught up to the older blonde, Buffy continued, "Spike told me . . . everything. And he said that you have some more information for me."
Tara gulped and looked down at her shoes. "I h-h-hope you're n-not mad at me, B-buffy," she stammered.
Buffy reassured the blonde with a quick hug. "It's okay, Tara. It worked out just fine. I wouldn't be this happy if it wasn't for you! I owe you, big-time!"
Tara smiled. "Spike's already paid back the favor . . . in much the same way, Buffy." She proceeded to tell Buffy that Spike had bumped into Willow the other night, causing her to fall into Tara's arms. "I was pretty Willow-struck at the time, but that peroxide hair of his stood out like a beacon in the moonlight. I saw him smirking at us as we walked away." She explained how the "accident" had precipitated their reconciliation. "So much has happened between us in the past couple days, but it never would've if Spike hadn't forced us into that first step."
Buffy shook her head. "First he punches you, then he shoves Willow. Spike sure has a weird way of doing you two favors."
Tara gave her a sweet smile. "Maybe, but they're still the two nicest things that anyone's ever done for me."
Buffy realized they were getting way off-track. "All right, enough mushy Spike talk. What was it that you saw at my party that has you so wigged?"
Tara described what she had seen in Buffy's aura, and what had happened as she and Spike touched. "I still can't explain it. And I don't know where to go from here, Buffy. Nothing about that spell would explain anything like this, and I've read everything that's ever been written about the spell, including descriptions of every time it's known to have been cast."
Buffy's mind was reeling. Finally, she had some confirmation that there was a reason for all this. This . . . deadness inside her. It wasn't just her. It was something that had been done to her.
Why me? she thought to herself. Why did all this stuff happen to me, out of all the other girls in the world? Even all the other Slayers didn't have to put up with this crap, 'cause they were never . . . Then her eyes widened as she made the connection. "Tara, maybe you've read everything about that spell, but I know something else you need to research."
"What's that?"
"Me. Or rather, Slayers. I'm sure that spell was never cast on a Slayer before, because Giles told me when Kendra was Called that it was the first time in history that there was ever more than one Slayer. If any Slayers before me had been resurrected, the Council would've known."
Tara's eyes opened wide. "Oh. So I need to check Giles' books for any descriptions of how Slayers . . . differ from regular human beings."
Buffy nodded. "And there's something else I just thought of. With Faith gone . . . " She paused a moment at the grief she felt at the thought. Why is it that I can feel all the painful emotions at full blast without Spike? she thought bitterly.
"With her gone, there'll be a new Slayer. She may already have been Called; I was never clear on just how quickly it happens. I bet the Council's going to try to make her a single-minded, can't-have-a-life, always-take-orders-from-your-Watcher Slaying machine, like most Slayers have been -- like Kendra was when I first met her." The mention of the other lost Slayer also brought tears to her eyes. Both of them dead, and me twice, but I'm still here. Once more, God, why me?
She sighed, and continued. "Those bastards shouldn't get away with that any more. I'll call Giles, see what he knows about the new Slayer, and make sure he gets involved. I don't know if the Council trusts him completely . . . and I'm still mad at him for leaving me when I really needed him. But he's the only decent one on the whole Council. If anyone can make sure the new Slayer is allowed to have something resembling a normal life, he can."
Tara nodded. Then she gave Buffy a big hug. "I'll find the answer, Buffy. I swear I'll find it."
Buffy could only answer, "Thank you. For everything." She stepped back and gave Tara a smile. "Give Miss Kitty Fantastico a tummy rub, and a big bag of catnip, for me."
Tara laughed. "She'll appreciate both." Then she added wistfully, "Who knows, Buffy. You may get to see Miss Kitty scampering around your house again very soon . . . "
Willow watched as her lover and her best friend spoke, and hugged, and spoke some more, and then hugged some more. When did Buffy and Tara get so close? she wondered. Tara had been accepted as a Scooby, and the whole crisis with the Maclay family had actually strengthened her bond with Buffy and Xander and the others, but as far as she knew, they had never really spent time with Tara alone, as opposed to Tara-and-Willow.
When Buffy came back to the house, Willow gave her a half-smile. "Trying to move in on my girl, Buff?" she said in mock jealousy.
Buffy grinned and seemed to consider it. "Nah. As if I'd have a chance. Tara doesn't seem to go for blondes. She's into redheads, all the way."
Willow couldn't help but smile. "Oh, God, Buffy, I missed her. I don't know how I made it through all those weeks without her."
Buffy smiled back. "It's good to see you happy again, Will. Happiness has been pretty scarce around this house lately."
Willow decided to go for broke. "Speaking of happiness and relationships, Buffy . . . Spike? When? How? And . . ." she broke off. There were too many questions.
Buffy looked at her, and Willow could feel her old friend . . . measuring her. Then she sighed and said, "I guess I should tell you the whole story, Will. You deserve to know what's been going on. And you're not freaking, the way that I'm sure Xander will . . . Oh, God, you can't ever tell Xander. He'd wig out big time if he knew what was really going on when . . . Wait." She stopped talking a moment, then said, "I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go inside, and talk."
As she opened the door, Buffy started, "It all began the night I came back . . ."
What neither Buffy nor Willow knew was that Dawn had had a . . . feeling that there was an important conversation going on. So she crept out of her bedroom, over to her usual hiding place at the top of the stairs, and listened. And got herself an earful.
Willow was, in turn, dismayed, appalled, and embarrassed as Buffy spun her tale. She tried not to interrupt, but couldn't help it at times.
"You mean Spike can hit you now?"
"Yeah. He wasn't really going at me full-strength, like he was trying to kill me. But he wanted to get my attention . . . and he got it." She went on. Willow blushed. Then she gasped. The she blushed some more.
"You mean Xander . . . walked in on you? With Spike?!?" Willow squeaked.
Buffy blushed herself. "Yeah. And if that wasn't bad enough, I . . . teased Spike. Nibbled on his earlobe. While Xander was there."
Willow laughed until she cried. "Oh my God! Poor Xander! He would have a fit if he knew that!"
Buffy glared at her. "Which is why he's never gonna know, Will. I mean, he's gotta know that Spike and I are . . . together . . . eventually. But don't tell him any of this stuff. I'd never hear the end of it. And besides, he doesn't like Spike as it is. If he hears all this, he'll assume it's Spike's doing and not mine."
Willow shook her head. "It's not your fault, Buffy, it's mine! I cast the spell that brought you back this way, I did all this to you!" she wailed.
Buffy waited till she had calmed down, then said softly to her, "Willow, this is not your fault. I don't know if there's any way that you could've known about this. Tara didn't even think to check the Slayer connection until I told her. I won't even know if Giles would've known anything, until Tara checks his books. Slayers are fast and strong, and have some extra-sensory stuff, but we're still supposed to be human.
"Remember the enjoining spell? You and Giles didn't blame yourselves for what happened afterward, with the First Slayer. It just happened. Same with this. Tara will do the research, and figure out what we have to do to fix me."
Willow bit her quivering lip. "So can I do anything? In my non-magical capacity as Friend-of-Buffy?"
Buffy smiled and hugged her. "Of course you can, Will. Just be there for me, when I need you."
Will smiled sadly. "Buffy . . . I can't believe you were going through all this, and never told me about it."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Déjà vu, much? I seem to remember having a similar conversation, about two years ago in an elevator shaft."
Willow frowned. "I seem to remember that we promised each other then that we'd never not talk again. Guess we need to re-promise, huh?"
Buffy laughed suddenly. "I know, we'll pinkie-swear! Dawn made me do that when I said I wouldn't leave her alone any more."
Willow laughed, and pinkie-swore with her old friend that there'd be no more secrets. And, for a while, they could pretend they were still teenagers, without a care in the world . . . except saving it occasionally.
Dawn slept fitfully that night. Her dreams were unusually vivid, and strange images flashed through them:
The Scoobies laughing together.
Buffy and Spike . . . doing things . . . in a house that came crashing down around them.
Anya and Xander getting married.
Herself, in danskins, in the training room, trading blows with Spike.
Giles' face, looking worried.
And a woman, a vampire . . . Dawn had only seen her once or twice, but she recognized her.
Drusilla.
The next morning, when she woke up, she went to ask Buffy about her dreams. She was not going to mention the things she'd seen her sister doing with Spike -- she'd heard all she needed to the night before.
But the bits about the fighting, and especially her fighting. And about Drusilla. She didn't know if being the Key, or the Slayer's magically-created sister, meant getting prophetic dreams like Buffy did, but those hadn't felt like ordinary dreams.
When she opened her sister's bedroom door, Buffy was sitting up in bed with a strange look on her face. And she was sure she heard her sister say something.
"Effulgent? No way is that a real word."
Dawn asked her what she was talking about, but Buffy ignored her. And then, as they were going down to breakfast, Buffy explained to Dawn what they were going to be doing at the Magic Box that day, and all thoughts of dreams, prophetic and otherwise, went right out of her head.
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