Title: Reflection

Author: Alicia

Rating: PG

Category: Brief mentions of B/S, B/R and B/A

Spoilers: Takes place a few months after "Grave"(Season 6 ender), and a few months before "Lessons"(Season 7 opener).

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own any of the characters. If I did, Angel would be human and Buffy would be his wife. Dam you Joss....oops, did I say that out loud?

Summary: Buffy reflects on the events that followed her resurrection, and gets some insight from Dawn.

Author's notes: This is my first attempt at fanfiction of any sort, so please be gentle. Would love feedback. Praises or criticism. It's all welcomed. Just be polite about it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Things are so different now. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm dreaming it all. God, how I would love it, if it were true. I would just wake up from a long slumber, and every thing would be like it was before. Before. Before when things were less complicated. Ok, wait, I'm lying to myself. Things for me were always complicated. Ok, then how about less sad. Less miserable, less depressing, dismal, gloomy, horrid, wretched.

"Buffy"

I'm ripped from my thoughts, as I look up to see Dawn standing there. That girl will never get it through her thick skull to knock first before entering someone's room. One day, she's gonna walk into my room, and see something she wish she never saw. Wait. that happened already.

I feel a smile spread across my face, as my mind drifts off. I remember the night Riley and I had just come in from an exhausting night of patrolling. Mom was in the kitchen. She had called us in, asked us if everything went fine. It was so cute. She was trying so hard to be strong, but deep down, I knew she was worried. She would always put on the fake smile, tried to hide the fact that she stayed up night after night, until I came home. She would always make some excuse about not being tired, or wanting to stay up to watch the Late show with Jay Leno, yet, the TV never was on when I entered the house. Go figure.

I miss my mom. I miss her so much.

Riley though was oblivious to my Mom's antics. He believed every word she said. Boy he was gullible. Now that I think about it, it's a trait of his that I actually liked. He was so trusting, so the mama's boy. It was endearing, and boy did my mother adore him. I bet she pictured us getting married someday. Hmm, I wonder if she ever pictured Angel and I ever getting married. Whoa. where did that come from. How did Angel get into my thoughts? No, no, don't think about Angel. Thinking about him is not of the good. Nothing good ever comes from thinking about Angel. I'll end up either more depressed than I am right now, or I'll just end up angry. Like I said, nothing good comes from thinking about Angel. I need to put him behind me.

God.how did my thoughts get so sidetracked. Dawn came into my room. She didn't knock, and I was thinking back to, or so was the plan, the night Dawn walked in on me and Riley having sex, but some how, Angel became the focus.

Dawn. Oh crap, she's still in my room isn't she. She must think I've gone insane or something.

I regain my senses, shove the Angel-ly thoughts to the back of my mind, where I'm sure they will, no doubt resurface eventually, and plague me with sleepless nights, full with large consumptions of ice cream to soothe the pain temporarily. Temporarily being the main word, cause the pain always seems to find a way back. It never fails.

I see Dawn staring at me strangely. Yep, she thinks I've lost my mind.

"Hey Dawnie," I tell her, trying to sound very much sane. Don't think she bought it though, cause she still gives me that 'what the hell is up with you' look.

"What?" I ask sitting up on my bed, my feet dangling off the edge.

"You were thinking about him, weren't you," she frowns, her arms crossed at her stomach

Dam she's good. Maybe it's the fact that we share the same blood that she can read me so well. Willow was good at that too. Well, except last year, when she went through that whole ordeal. I wish she were able to read me back then. If she had just asked me more questions, probed me for information, I swear. I would of spilled everything. I wanted so much to tell her. Tell someone. Just spill my guts about all of it. About how I was mad at her for taking me away from the peace, the tranquility. heaven, or at least I think it was heaven.

All I know is, that I was free where I was. No obligations to anybody, no calling to fulfill. Nothing. I was happy, all the pain was gone and everything just felt right. But now I was back because of her, and the pain and sadness resurfaced. Actually, I don't know if it did. For a while there, I felt empty inside. I felt completely devoid of emotions. Any emotion. When I think back now, I would have happily welcomed the pain, the sadness. Anything was better than feeling nothing, which is what I felt for a long time after.

Willow was my best friend, and for the first time, I couldn't go to her. Well, I'm not sure if it would have helped that much. Will was going through her own problems. Tara had broken it off. Their relationship that is. Will was a mess. I remember seeing her moping around the house, depressed beyond words, trying her hardest to refrain from using magic. Dawn and I helped a little bit by removing any and all objects or things in the house that would draw Will back to the magics.

I could have done more. I should've tried talking to her, but truthfully, I could've cared less, back then. She was my best friend, and I didn't even bother to console her. Why? Lord knows if I know. All leads back to the emptiness, I guess. The devoid, lost confused entity that was Buffy Summers.

That's not me anymore though, and thank god for that. I'm living the straight and narrow life now a days. No more neglecting my friends, or my sister. She needs me more than anything right now. And I plan not to disappoint. From now on, it's supporto gal Buffy. That's me. Always ready to help out. No more sleeping with soulless vampires either. Those days are behind me.

Hmm, it's weird, but sometimes I find myself actually thinking about Spike. Like now for instance. He just pops in my head from out of the blue. I don't know why. After what he tried to do, I shouldn't even be thinking about him at all, but deep down, I think a tiny part of me actually liked him. Liked the way he made me feel, in all sense of the word. The sex was amazing. Got to give him that. He definitely knew how to please.

It's not that I forgive him for what he tried to do, but sometimes I think I deserved it. Plus, what did I expect. It's Spike. Every so often, I start blaming myself for everything that happened with him. I know subconsciously that it wasn't my fault, but I can't help thinking it.

I told him to stop. I said no. But, did I lead him to do what he did? I never said no before, so why should he of thought this time was any different. Sometimes I even wonder where he is, where he went. Not that I want him back in my life or anything. I just wonder is all. He told me he loved me, and more than often, I wanna believe he does. But soulless vampires can't love. That's what Giles tells me anyway, but I'm not so sure anymore.

Giles. I miss Giles.

"Buffy, Spike is an ass. After what he. ya know. He's an ass for what he did. A big fat ass," my sister finishes, her features drowned in contempt.

Wow. She's really mad at Spike. Don't think I've ever seen her with that look before. Well, maybe one time. Back when she was in elementary school. In gym class, Peter Jones, snuck up behind her and gave her the biggest wedgy imaginable or so I was told. She came home that afternoon, and had the same look on her face. The same one she gets now every time Spike becomes the topic of discussion.

"Dawn," I say gently, rising from my bed. "I wasn't thinking about Spike." Well, I wasn't until after the question was raised.

"Oh," She says somewhat surprised. "Good, cause he's not even worth the thinkage," she then adds

I walk across the room, and look at myself in the mirror, positioned on top of my dresser. I do that a lot. Just stand, looking at myself in the mirror. I'm not looking to see if my hair looks good, or if I have something in my teeth. I'm just looking. Looking at myself. Staring at myself really. Trying to see into my own soul. Sometimes I don't think I even have one.

"What did you want?" I ask Dawn without turning around to look her way. My eyes still fixated on my reflection in the mirror.

I can see her move toward my bed from the mirror, and slump down, the headboard shaking from the sudden weight.

She shrugs. "Wanted to know if you were hungry. Made a bunch of peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. I was bored"

Now I turn around to face her

"Peanut butter and mayonnaise," I ask, my face scrounged up at the thought.

"It's good. Don't knock it, till ya try it"

"Thanks for the offer Dawn, but I'm not that hungry"

"So. was it Angel"

"Huh," I mutter, taken by surprise.

"Was it Angel you were thinking about before," my sister clarifies.

"Angel. No..no. Not Angel. Why would I be thinking about Angel," I fumble for words

Her eyes are all knowing, cause she can see through my lie. It's obvious from the look she gives me. Well, might as well tell her. No point in lying about it now.

I lift my hands in defeat, and make my way back to the bed, taking a seat next to my psychic sister.

"Yeah, I was thinking about Angel," I confess, falling back on the bed, the ceiling coming into full view.

I feel the bed shift a bit, and I turn my head, to see Dawnie lying beside me, complete with a smile.

"You miss him don't you" she questions, but already knowing the answer herself.

"Yeah I do," I exhale, saying it out loud and admitting it to myself and to Dawn, for the first time.

It wasn't that hard actually. It came real easy. Why didn't I do this long ago? I miss Angel. It's simple really. Ever since he left my life 3 years prior. That meeting we had when I came back, didn't help the situation none. The things I said to him. God. I hope he knows that it wasn't me. Well, it was me, but it really wasn't me. I didn't mean any of it. Ok, maybe I meant some of it, but the Buffy of today would have never said it to his face with such austerity.

I just let it all out on him. I just wanted to *feel* something, and I thought that was the way to go. Maybe if I said those things to him, it would bring out some kind of emotion in me.

But nothing.

All I did was hurt him. The look on his face, the sadness and the feeling of loss that flickered in his eyes at my words, sometimes haunts me in my sleep. It's eerie really, and it's all too real. I wonder if he hates me now? I can't really blame him if he does.

"I know. I can tell," Dawn replies

Uh. so she can tell can she. Guess that monotone expression I've been sporting lately is no good in hiding how I'm feeling after all. Xander would mention Spike, threatenly of course, and on instinct, my "that didn't effect me" expression would surface and take over my features. It was the same expression I perfected back when the *Masters* name would come up, the few months after I killed him.

I sigh "Is it that obvious?"

She doesn't answer

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah, I do. Don't think I ever stopped loving him"

"No. not Angel. Spike"

Whoa. Where did that come from? Do I love Spike/Do I love Spike/ Do I love Spike? Good question. Before, I really thought I did. love him. He made me feel good. He was my release. But, if I'm honest with myself, I never loved him. I wanted to so badly, but it. that feeling. the one that overwhelms you, where you can't breath, and it feels so good not to breath. it didn't happen. Not with him, or Riley for that matter.

"No Dawn. What I felt for Spike wasn't love, but I did care for him. I know you hate him now for." I falter but then continue.

"I was in a bad place then, and I made mistakes and did things I normally would never do. But it happened, and can't be undone. I can't change any of it. I just have to live with it, and learn from it all."

I sit up on the bed, looking down at Dawn

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I love you. You do know that right," I tell her, meaning every last word

She looks at me somewhat embarrassed, by my outpouring of emotions, but she smiles.

"I know," Dawn mutters after a pause

"Maybe I'm not the only one you need to tell those words to," she continues as she clambers off the bed.

She walks towards the door, stops and turns to look at me.

"I'm sure he feels the same way. LA is just a phone call away," she finishes, her figure vanishing from view, as she leaves my room.

Call Angel, and tell him that I still love him? Tell him that I'm sorry for everything I said to him? Tell him that I want him back in my life? That I don't care about the dam curse. I just want him with me. To make me feel like life is worth living. To console me. To be the sea to my shore.

I can't even count how many times I came so close to doing just that. To just pick up the phone, dial the number, which I have stored in my memory, and tell him everything. But, I always back out. Fear is a powerful thing. It can keep you from doing what you need to do. I'm so scared. Scared that he hates me. Will hate me when I give him all the horrid details of my life. Will he be disgusted by what I've become. I know I felt ashamed and disgusted with myself many times. Imagine his reaction. It might be ten times worst, and that's something I..I can't let happen. I just can't. So, I don't call him, because the pain of not having him in my life at all, is far less, than having him hate me for an eternity.

THE END.

Title Page
Author's Page