Confusion, Confessions
By Len
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Spoilers. Let’s just say everything up until now, to be safe.
First Posted: WillSpikeFic, 1/9/02.
Archive: I’d be thrilled. Just let me know where.
Teaser: A late night conversation between Willow
and Spike, the day after the events of “Gone”. This is the result of me trying to get
rid of the whole Spike/Buffy visuals we’ve been plagued with. Augh!
Notes: Yet again, I’m playing around
with writing styles. This style
isn’t normal for me, but hopefully this fic is a little better than my
first piece of junk…ahem, writing.
This is just a small snippet – no major plot, no questions are
really answered. And it’s
extremely early in the a.m., so I wonder if it even makes sense….(:
Feedback: Oh please – I would like to know if I got *anything* right.
The Summers’ Residence, Front Steps. Midnight.
Spike sits on the porch steps, once again blocked out from the house. Seemingly unperturbed, he waits calmly smoking a cigarette. After a moment, the front door opens quietly. Willow creeps out with a coke in hand, and then pauses, surprised at Spikes presence. Spike’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t turn around.
"Red. Haven't seen you out here in a while."
"It's been a couple of months, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. Before..."
"…I went all Wicked Witch of the West?"
"You said it, not me."
“It’s true, I guess.”
"..."
"And now the silence begins."
"What?"
"Don’t worry about it. I’m surprised you haven’t said something insulting to me yet. Everyone else has. I suppose I deserve it. It’s not that they mean to, you know, but it’s always, ‘I lost my toothbrush, Willow. Have you fallen off the wagon and spelled it to Anchorage?’”
“So you screwed up. Shit happens. Now stop fiddling with that; you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Doing what?”
“Playing with the soda can. Oh, now see what you’ve done? You’re bleeding and I have to sit here and smell it. You are a cruel one, Red.”
“…”
“Oh, don’t you go getting all teary on me. I hate that. Here. Chin up. Blow your nose.”
“Thanks. I don’t mean to be cruel, Spike. Honest.”
“I know. I’m an expert on cruelty, and lets face it, Willow, you simply haven’t the stuff to be really good and evil.”
“Oh, but
I do. You saw me – I was
completely out of my head. And the
Vamp me – she was terrifying.
Loved torture. I’m
cruel, Spike.”
“Piffle. You’re evil and I’m the Easter Bunny.”
“Her arm is in a sling, Spike. Every time I see her, I see that. I did that. And her eyes…how did I screw up so badly? And why the hell aren’t you threatening to kill me for hurting Dawn, anyway?”
“You want me to?”
“It’s your job, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And don’t make that noise. It’s not ladylike.”
“Says Spike, the expert on manners and propriety.”
“I try.”
“You’ve been like her big brother since before Buffy….died. And I was her friend. And I hurt her.”
“Oh, now luv. Don’t start with the waterworks again.”
“Sorry.”
“And will you stop bloody apologizing? Yeah, you screwed up. Get over it.”
“Get over it? Get over it? That’s your advice. Well, thank you very much. Okay – poof! I’m over it!”
“No need to get pissy with me, little witch.”
“I’m not little.”
“…”
“What? Did you say something?”
“No, pet.”
“Oh.”
“She reminds me of someone, you know.”
“Who does?”
“Niblet.”
“Really? Buffy, right? They really do look similar, if you imagine Buffy as, well…”
“You.”
“Huh? Did I just miss something?”
“Oh, c’mon pet. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed. Big doe eyes, tall, skinny—“
“Hey!”
“And the whole ‘ethereal innocence’ thing you both have going…”
“You think I have ethereal innocence?”
“Well, yeah. Believe me, Willow, that’s the sort of thing sonnets are made of. How could I possibly not keep an eye on the Little Bit? I mean, who knows what kind of demonish types are out there, waiting to snatch you—“
“Me?”
“—*her* up? Buffy would kill me. And that’s why they’re treating you oddly, luv.”
“Oooookay - call me shorty, but the point of that just went *way* over my head.”
“…”
“And don’t roll your eyes. You just said something that I’m sure was very important, and I’d like to understand it, so if you would *condescend* to explain—hey!”
“What?”
“What? Spike, you just kissed my hand! Th-that wasn’t a v-very Spike-y thing to do!”
“You’re unbelievable, Willow. That’s why.”
“No, that’s not true. I happen to be very believable.”
“You just asked my opinion like it mattered, pet. Your friends would never believe it.”
“Why shouldn’t it matter?”
“Forget it.”
“…”
“…”
“Spike?”
“Yeah, luv?”
“Um…why are they treating me oddly, again?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Will! Because you’re supposed to be infallible! You’re the angel that was never supposed to fall. You’re bleedin’ poetry, Red!”
“…”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘Oh’.”
“…”
“I’m not though. I’m just Willow. Sort of. Huh. That’s funny.”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t even know who ‘Willow’ is, anymore. I thought I knew. I thought I was the one who always helped. I thought I was the witch. Now I’m just…”
“Human. It’s a bitch, I know. Just need to give ‘em some time to figure that out, eh?”
“You know, you’re being very nice about all this.”
“Nice? Ha! I’m the Big Bad, Red. I don’t have a nice bone in my body.”
“That’s not what Buffy says.”
“Wh-what?”
“She tells me there’s been quite a few times when you did something wildly bizarre to help her. Looking after Dawn is a glowing example of that…Spike? Are you okay? You look…oh, Goddess! *Are* you okay? You look a little flushed. I didn’t know vampires *could* get flushed…”
“Relax, Willow. I just – erm…nothing. There.”
“Ack! You did it again!”
“Well, excuse me for unliving! Fine, I’ll never touch your hand again!”
“Oh, that’s not what I meant, Spike. I was surprised.”
“Hmph.”
“Don’t sulk. It’s very nice out here tonight, isn’t it? This is very nice.”
“What? Sitting here, staring at the car across the street?”
“No. Us. You have this amazing knack for making me feel better, you know. Though for the sake of your reputation and that of all Scoobies, I will deny it if asked.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“…”
“…”
“It feels like shit, doesn’t it?”
“And there goes *that* mood…”
“No, honestly. It does.”
“What does?”
“I know how it feels. Knowing that any power you once had is gone. Any respect. Anything at all. All gone.”
“Oh, Spike…”
“No – don’t give me any pitiful looks from those gorgeous peepers of yours, Red. I don’t want sympathy. I want the fuckin’ thing out of my head.”
“I wish I could help.”
“Do you? I’d probably kill you all after I got it out.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“No. I wouldn’t.”
“So I guess you really are the best person to talk to about this, huh?”
“As pathetic as a Master Vampire giving out counseling sounds…probably, pet. God, I *am* bloody pathetic.”
“…”
“What was that look for?”
“You’re not pathetic, Spike. I’d go more along the lines of ‘occasionally invaluable’.”
“…”
“…”
“You’re a caution, Willow. You certainly are. I’ve always wondered….”
“Hmm?”
“Forget it.”
“No, c’mon. We’re having a nice little chat here, everything is calm, quiet, and relatively safe….what have you wondered? We can ponder it.”
“You.”
“You’re wondered me?”
“You look at people and make them fell like they’re the most important person in the universe.”
“Oh…Spike. That’s very sweet. But if you’re trying out a chat-up line….”
“Willow! I would never! It was a mere statement of fact. I was only wondering how you did it, that’s all.”
“…”
“Take a deep breath, there, luv. You’re face is going to stop traffic. It’s the truth. And see, you just did it again.”
“I’m sorry! I’ll try to stop!”
“Don’t on my account. I rather enjoy it. It’s even better than the expressions of abject terror you used to give me. Oh, how I miss those days…”
“I know. You’ve told us before.”
“…”
“Thank you, Spike.”
“No worries. Don’t ever tell anyone.”
“I won’t. Spike?”
“Hmm?”
“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell me, right?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Okay. But if there is…I promise whatever you tell me, I won’t tell anyone else. Just…just if you need me…”
“I’ll remember.”
“…huh…”
“Will? What’s wrong?”
“Look, Spike – my hands!”
“Um – yeah. Very nice. What about ‘em?”
“For the first time since the accident…”
“Hmm?”
“…they’ve stopped shaking.”
The End
