I don't own Buffy and Company. They belong to Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, and the WB. No
copyright infringement is intended.
Thoughts are indicated by
One month later
Buffy stood on the Rosenburgs porch, hesitant to ring the bell. She hadnt seen Willow much since the night Spike died, but that was not of Buffys choosing. Willow had isolated herself from her friends and even her family. The Slayer was helpless to assist her friend in her recovery. Buffy was about to leave the porch when the door opened.
"Buffy! How are you?" Joan Rosenburg smiled at the blonde.
"Fine. How is Willow?"
Joans cheerful demeanor disappeared. "I dont know how to help her, Buffy. All she does is play the piano, morning, noon, and night. She barely speaks to us at all."
"Can I see her?" she asked. Joan nodded and stepped aside to let Buffy in.
"Shes in the living room," Joan said quietly. "I dont know what to do anymore, Buffy. She wont talk about what happened and she wont let us comfort her. Im at a loss."
"Ill see what I can do," she replied. Buffy entered the living room, observing the redhead at the piano. She looked pinched, drawn, and much thinner than the last time Buffy had seen her. Willow rested against the piano, playing a song with one hand.
"Do you recognize it?" Joan had followed Buffy and put her hand on the Slayers shoulder. "She plays it over and over again. Just that song." Willow seemed unaware of their conversation, or even of the two of them. "Nothing, no words, just music. I cant place it, though. She took lessons as a child, but I dont remember her instructor ever teaching her that. Do you know where she learned it?"
"I think so," Buffy whispered. "Ive heard her play it before."
"Spike taught you this, didnt he?"
Buffy touched Willows hands, not enough to interrupt the song, but the act startled Willow into silence. Buffy grasped friends wrists, holding her away from the keys. For the first time Buffy noticed what was around Willows shoulders.
"Thats Spikes jacket." She ran her fingers over the slick black leather. "You kept it."
"You have yours, and I have mine. Both from our undead lovers." Willow motioned to the coat Buffy wore. Spikes jacket was slimmer and longer than Angels; Willows small body fit nicely into it, while the Slayers seemed to swim in her boyfriends coat.
"Willow, can I ask you something?" The only response Buffy got was a dull stare. She took a deep breath and went on. "What did Spike do to you?"
"He made me fall in love," she whispered, shaking off Buffys hands. She returned to playing Chopin, closing the discussion. But Buffy was not about to let it go so quickly.
"You were in love with him?" She was aghast.
"I still am."
"But why? He wasnt like Angel; he didnt have a soul."
Willow slammed down on the keys, making Buffy jump. "Angel killed Spike for no reason," she yelled, showing more emotion in a few moments than she had in the past few weeks. "It didnt matter whether or not Spike had a soul. He was still more compassionate and caring than your precious boyfriend. How would you feel if someone you trusted staked Angel? You would feel the same way I do." Her tone carried a slight hint of malice.
"Willow, Angel helped me find you. You would be a vampire now if we hadnt come. I thought what I was doing was for the best. I still think what I did was for the best."
"It wasnt, Buffy," she said softly. "I wish he was still alive. Or that I was dead. I want to be with him, Buffy. I miss him so much."
"But you know that he would have killed you, or turned you into a vampire? You were ready to let yourself become a demon?"
"If it meant I could be with Spike, then, yes, I was ready. We were going to leave Sunnydale, and then he would make me immortal."
"You were going to become a vampire because you wanted to live forever? God, I thought you, of all people, would be the last to become like Ford." Buffy felt absolutely nauseous.
Willow laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He was delusional." Buffys stunned expression clearly asked: And you arent? Willow ignored the look and explained. "Immortality was just something I knew would happen once Spike changed me. I could have cared less about it, except it would mean I would be with him, always. Thats all."
Buffy tried to understand, to see it from Willows point of view, but she simply could not. A Slayers worst fear was to join the undead, yet Willow had been about to do it with a song in her heart. Buffy couldnt even comprehend the idea. No way.
There was something else nagging at Buffy. She couldnt get out of her head, no matter how unnatural it sounded. She hated it ask it, fearing the answer, but she had to.
"When we were in the flat and Spike and I were fighting," Willow shut her eyes tightly against the memory, "he said that he was your...lover. Did he mean that as in he was your boyfriend, or in the, um, literal sense?"
"The literal sense." Willow was totally calm in answering, but Buffy was appalled. She sat in a silent daze, staring at the person she thought she knew. The redhead had dropped so many bombs during the visit that Buffy was utterly shell-shocked. Willow smiled slightly, remembering her night with Spike. "You know, even though he didnt breathe, he made the sweetest sound while he slept. It was so adorable."
Buffy thought, bewildered.
Willow played a few more notes, then trailed off and met Buffys gaze. "Sometimes, Ill be alone," she whispered, "and Ill think I feel him. Just his presence, as if hes watching over me. Sometimes I feel as though hes partially with me."