Petals
by lanie
Part Two
[reviews]
***
The cabin was small, really small, Willow noticed setting her bags on the floor.
"Right then," Spike said shoving pass Willow into the room, "Much more outdoor atmosphere, you lot won't have to worry about setting a fire, Slayer?"
Buffy nodded and her and Spike went about securing the place for the day. They moved about the cabin quietly, the jovial mood from the snow fight all but gone as the pair moved so methodically through the small cabin. Windows were shuttered, curtains pulled tight and doors were locked.
Willow took the opportunity to look around the cabin. The walls were bare, nothing hung on them and there was no evidence that anything ever had. It seemed a little strange, a little lonely, Willow thought with a frown as she wandered to a corner chest. It was simple, plain pine, with no carvings or decoration, just a coat of varnishing as a finish. It was clean; she observed her finger moving across its grainy surface. Opening it up she found nothing more than a bundle of blankets and bed sheets. The next thing she noticed was a locked bookcase in the corner. Enraptured, her fingers dragged across it's mesh facing. Demonology texts filled it mostly, standard fair stuff, nothing too dangerous, or, she thought with a small shudder, black artsy.
"Will," Buffy called pulling back the blankets on the bed, "Right side, left side?"
"Huh?" Willow looked away from the books, the blonde was already rifling through her bag for a pair of dry clothes.
"The bed, which side do you want?" Buffy asked, pulling a pair of flannel plants and a thermal top out.
"Oh. Oh," Willow blushed and turned away, "Either, I'm preference free." She answered, worrying her lip at the thought of crawling into bed with Buffy. Which, Willow reasoned was absolutely ridiculous. She'd shared beds with Buffy lots of times in the past. Sure none of the other times took place after kissing in the snow, but still, nothing to worry about. It was just Buffy. Her best friend, her completely heterosexual best friend. Willow was not, would not, have fuzzy glowing feelings about her. Beyond fuzzy glowing best buds kind of vibes, those were acceptable.
"I'll take the right, it's closer to the door." Buffy said with a shrug pulling a crossbow from her weapons bag and setting it on the nightstand. "You know just in case."
"Don't get yourself in a sleepwalk Slayer and aim that thing the wrong way, huh?" Spike said, dropping to the worn arm chair near the door, kicking his feet up on a mismatched ottoman. His tone was light, but his eyes were distant, the jovial mood set from the abrupt snow fight was gone as he lit up a cigarette.
Buffy ignored him and pulled the blankets up to her chin and settled comfortably next to Willow, a smile crossing her mouth before drifting into sleep with a speed that Willow envied.
Willow wasn't tired. She watched Spike with keen interest behind lowered lids. His face was hard, his hand gripping the arms of the chair, as his cigarette dangled haphazardly from his lips. He was watching them, Willow realized, her and Buffy.
Willow felt a sadness tug at heart upon his stare especially when Buffy snuggled in closer to her. Buffy's arm draped across Willow's waist, and Spike looked trodden, defeated even but it didn't last for long.
He caught Willow's look and his face went blank. He looked away from the girls, moving to undo his boots before reaching for his snow dampened shirt and pulling it off.
The expanse of Spike's chest distracted Willow, the jagged cuts that were so predominant across his body were now nothing but scratches fading quickly. Again earlier events tiptoed through her head and she wondered what it was that had gone on between Buffy and Spike, setting the morose tone of the morning.
Uneasily Willow looked away from him and towards the locked bookcase, the titles unreadable in the darkness, but she looked anyway, her teeth digging nervously into her bottom lip. She wondered for the first time what kind of demon had attacked them. She had never seen it before, had never come across it during the many research sessions in her past. What kind of creature was it that left Spike so weak, unable to heal as he normally would have, and was it just run of the mill type A blood that pulled him through when pig's blood couldn't.
Willow shook her head, the heavy weight of exhaustion pushing her thoughts away as her eyelids fluttered closed.
***
"It's not that bad Buffy." Willow said looking around with a shrug of her shoulders.
"It is that bad, this place sucks. This place created suckage, besides it's really creepy." Buffy responded with an exaggerated shudder.
"It is not. It's like Mayberry. Mayberry on Ice."
"Yeah, well Mayberry was wiggy." Buffy picked up at Willow's snort, "It was."
"And this comes from the girl who's been on intimate terms with creepy." Willow shook her head and reached for the door of the five and dime.
"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked grabbing onto the door as Willow entered the store.
"I'm just saying." Willow replied, uncommitted.
The town wasn't creepy, it was small and it made Sunnydale look like Metropolis and maybe Willow and Buffy stood out like sore thumbs, but it wasn't creepy. They were just pretty noticeable so people stared. Plus you know, Willow thought, Buffy, she'd stare too.
Which broached topics she didn't really want to ponder, plus the afternoon was going so nicely. Sunlight liability meant Spike didn't get to tag along, not that Willow really thought he'd wanted to, he'd given them a short grunt and pulled the covers back over his head as they left.
He'd somehow winded up on the bed with them during the early hours of the morning, which sort of struck Willow as bizarre. Just the fact alone that she was sleeping deeply enough that another person could get in the queen sized bed with out her knowing was bad enough. Add to it Spike's trampled look before she fell asleep, not to mention the weirdness that was Buffy and Spike in general and hey, maybe it wasn't that bizarre after all.
Either way it was nice just hanging with Buffy, it'd been a long time since they'd done that. The visit to town wasn't purely R and R. Buffy had likened it to recon, checking out the lay of the land and the like. Plus they had to pick up a few vital supplies, girl stuff like shampoo and tampons and other less girly, less human, stuff like blood for Spike.
Which Willow was in a bit of a fix about. The town really did remind her of Mayberry, what would the local butcher say to two strangers coming in wanting a week's supply of animal blood? Willow didn't think it would sit well, but Buffy didn't seem too worried about it, which was just like her.
"Hello to the super mongo industrial sized box of tampons." Buffy huffed hefting the box up into her arms.
"Well maybe people don't get their shopping on a lot out here, hence big everything, like Costco's or something. It's pretty rural. Like a movie, you know where the family piles into the pick up for their weekly venture into town. Ma and Pa in the front seat, Sally and Billy in the truck bed with Rover." Willow supplied helpfully.
"Rover?" Buffy tossed the box into their buggy.
"The dog." Willow answered unquestionably.
"Of course." Buffy agreed reaching for a bottle of shampoo and handing it to Willow, "This okay? They don't have my brand. They don't even have my reserve brand."
"I don't so much have a brand." Willow took the bottle and absently pondered it's ingredients as they rounded the corner and headed towards the check out, "Hey I just thought of something."
"I've never lived with a guy before unless you count my dad and I don't cause he's my dad and all-"
"Uh-huh?" Buffy interrupted raising an eyebrow.
"I'm babbling, I get that but I have a point. I've never lived with a guy, I stayed at Oz's a few times but that hardly constitutes a living with a guy thing."
"Willow." Buffy urged.
"Spike's a guy, right, I mean sort of-" Willow started when Buffy cut in again.
"Oh wait! This isn't gonna' be one of male species finds econo size box of tampon references, is it?"
"Well maybe." Willow said defensively.
"He's like a hundred and thirty years old Will," Buffy said lowering her voice when the woman in front of them turned and gave her a strange look, "Most of which he spent living with a woman."
"One who didn't breathe," Willow punctuated emphatically, "And hence did not-"
"Really Will, I get the point." Buffy answered piling her stuff on the counter.
***
The girls made their way to the car, one neither of them were exactly proficient at driving. Which was what Willow would have to do after the trip to the Butcher's. They'd agreed on it before they left, Buffy drove to town and Willow drove back.
"I bet he had sisters." Buffy spoke piling their stuff into the car's trunk
"Who?" Willow asked.
"Spike. When he was alive I mean."
"Really?" Willow asked shutting the trunk.
"I don't know actually. I don't know much about him, it's just sometimes..." She stopped drifting off before shaking her head, pulling the keys from her pocket she handed them to Willow.
"Just so you don't try to one up me out of driving when we're done at the butcher's." She finished slinging an arm around Willow's waist companionably, sending a small shiver up Willow's body.
***
"Okay that was eerily easy." Willow remarked cranking the car.
"Slayer charisma. Hand the man a note, look really intimidating, get blood." Buffy shrugged locking her seatbelt into place.
"Except for the intimidating bit because you didn't, at all." Willow checked the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking space, "Besides it's not like that man knows you're the Slayer, or what a Slayer is, or the punch you wallop in your fist when people get you all with the angry."
"Should I be offended?" Buffy smirked.
"Because you kick ass?" Willow questioned turning onto the stretch of roadway that would lead them back to the cabin.
"It sounds better when you put it that way, besides it's not like I always go Slayer girl to get things done." Buffy stopped and then added, "Anymore."
"Still," Willow pressed, "I thought there'd be some stares of 'hey you're out of your noggin', what with quarts of pigs blood not being a usual delicatessen."
"Giles set it up." Buffy answered.
"So Giles knows 'Sam the Butcher'? Which you know, a little weird and unnerving." Willow frowned. She didn't like the fact that a perfectly complete stranger knew anything about them.
"Sometimes you personify wigginess, you know that right?" Buffy asked digging through her purse for the five dollar sunglasses she had picked up at the Woolworth's.
***
The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees by the time they got back to the cabin. Spike was also no longer asleep. He was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee, one of the many things the small pantry was stocked with when they arrived. He'd obviously just gotten out of the shower, his hair was wet and messy and, Willow thought, a nice improvement.
He didn't look up, not even when Buffy ruffled a hand through his hair, something that made him jolt both uncomfortably and not.
"Sporting shower hair. I like." Buffy said flippantly, a small frown on her face.
"Buffy." Spike greeted, taking a drink from his coffee before looking at Willow, "Will."
"Spike." Willow answered back uncomfortably. She didn't like the way he was looking at her. It wasn't anything specific and not something she could put a finger on precisely but it made her uncomfortable.
"Got dinner." Buffy began rifling through the butcher's parcel.
"Not-" He answered quietly
"No. Pig's blood, from the butcher's." She interrupted placing a container on the table in front of him "We got a week's supply, so you should be okay for a while, huh?"
"Peachy, Dove." Spike responded dully loosening the lid and placing the container in the microwave.
Willow felt the tension before she heard it, before she even saw it. That was the way it was with Buffy. The air in the room would get so thick until it felt like everything would combust and something usually did, Buffy.
"God Spike this is getting so old." Buffy hissed her hand slamming against the table.
Willow backed away from the pair and chewed her lip nervously when Spike looked up at Buffy, his mouth twisted in a jeer.
"Is it Love?" He hissed smoothly ignoring the beep of the microwave, his arms stiffly crossing against his chest.
"Oh yeah, I'd say so, about two exits ago, so how about you drop your-"
"Guys," Willow interrupted awkwardly not sure where else to go but knowing an otherwise okay day had been shot to shambles. "Um. Things? A little uncomfortable."
Willow watched as Buffy slowly looked away from Spike, her eyes dark and dangerous, lips in a thin line of displeasure, which Willow admitted was slightly better than seething anger.
Willow knew none of it was pointed at her but she was still uncomfortable until Buffy's mouth softened, "Will? Remember," She began her voice taking on an exaggerated note, her eyes moving to the door, "How you, um, you said that the...trees, yes trees, outside might make with the good when it comes to some spells you wanted to work on?"
"Trees?" Willow asked, her brow scrunching in confusion, "I've never heard," She stopped as Buffy widened her eyes and looked towards the door again, "Oh trees. Yes. You know leaves and stuff, which I should go and investigate because, um they could be helpful."
"Trees?" Spike snorted wirily finally reaching for the container from the microwave.
"Trees." Willow answered indignantly, "Yes trees, some of them have magical potency, all mother nature-y and their leaves..."
"None of them have much in the way of leaves, Love." Spike quipped pulling the lid off his heated blood.
"Well sap then. All trees have sap." Willow shot back.
"Magical sap. Sounds neat." He continued coolly, "And not at all like a ploy for the Slayer to get her thrashing in with out an audience, can't let a Scoob in on the real McCoy after all, can we Pet? What you and I really are?" He finished, his gaze back on Buffy with such single minded determination that Willow stepped back away from the pair. Her curiosity about what had happened between Spike and Buffy abolished underneath the weight of their stares trained on each and each other alone.
***
Willow frowned and looked out into the virtual wasteland surrounding the cabin. Spike was right, there weren't a lot of leaves on the trees. Not that Willow was actually looking for leaves or sap or anything equally stupid, or that anyone had bought the silly charade to begin with.
Sighing Willow decided that the trees weren't the only things that seemed so barren, everything looked sort of desolate in the burgeoning nightfall. The frosty weather didn't help any, the snow that had seemed so magical before was now only gray slush. Shivering she wished she'd grabbed the car keys when she'd left the two of them alone. At least then she could make use of the car's heater, or even leave.
Not that she had anywhere to go.
Willow looked towards the door. Everything seemed pretty quiet in the cabin. She hadn't heard anything that resembled dust falling, if dust falling actually was sound worthy, to the ground or strings of colorful obscenity coming from inside, both trademarks of Buffy and Spike's anger.
Unenthusiastically she weighed the pros and cons of going back inside.
The biting cold won out, her hand reached for the door knob. Slowly she pushed the door open stopping when a moan broke from Buffy's mouth. Apprehensively she looked into the dark cabin and saw Buffy sitting astride Spike on the bed. His arms were wrapped tightly, possessively, around her body and they were kissing.
Buffy let out another smaller moan. Willow's face fell at the repeated sound because it wasn't a bad moan. They usually weren't after all. She shouldn't feel hurt. The kiss with Buffy was like the clothes fluke with Xander, but a snow fluke. It was a strictly one time deal. So why did she feel like someone had just dropped the anvil of doom on her head?
Buffy, completely and unequivocally straight, had kissed her and now she was kissing Spike.
The anvil wouldn't stop dropping.
The last thing Willow wanted was to be noticed by either of them, especially when she was sure her emotions were written across her face quite coherently. She moved to close the door but stopped leaving it ajar at an inch when Spike pulled away from Buffy.
"I should never have let you-"
"I'm strong Spike, stronger than ever, but I still need you on my side. It had to happen and you know it. Slayer resistance is an amazing thing and I heal quickly. Plus it was inevitable," Her voice lightened, "vamps the world over are unable to resist my charms."
"The world over?" Spike asked quietly, his hand reaching for a tangle of Buffy's hair, twisting it around his finger.
"Maybe not the world over." Buffy agreed when lips that Willow had found exquisitely soft leaned in for a tiny peck against Spike's forehead.
Willow smiled sadly at seeing the two of them together and so uncharacteristically tender with each other. A ping of envy mounted itself inside her but she didn't look away.
"So we're over this. Right?" Buffy asked, "It was my decision and one I don't regret. My plate? Forever full, I don't want one more thing added to it."
"Slayer." Spike hissed looking down. Willow could see him perfectly, his face working through a myriad of emotions, mostly of guilt and self loathing. Things Willow was well acquainted with, things that made her soften the slightest bit towards the vampire.
Willow couldn't see Buffy's face but she wandered what the Slayer was giving away, knowing that she very seldom let anything out but when she did, oh when she did, she could make whoever she was with feel like the most important person on the planet.
"Buffy," Spike picked back up, "It wasn't just blood."
Willow stiffened.
"Maybe not. It was my decision though. I need you strong."
"Buffy." Spike began his voice weary.
"No." Buffy interrupted, "Things are quiet now and they haven't been for a long time. We. We need to rest. And Willow is doing so much better-" Spike stiffened at the mention of Willow's name, enough that even the redhead peeking through a crack in the door could see, no feel, the tension.
Buffy noticed it too, and Willow closed her eyes against the sight, the way the Slayer's shoulders squared before picking back up and glossing over Spike's reaction. "Will is doing so much better. So can we just not Spike?"
"God Buffy," Spike whispered, his voice so needy, so amazed that it jarred Willow's eyes open.
Willow's face fell at Buffy's slow gesture, fingers tugging at the buttons of her flannel shirt until her skin, still bronzed from the California sunshine, lit up the room in the amber tinted darkness.
She watched Spike's face fall into amazement and knew exactly what he felt. Suddenly she was in kinship once again with this demon, this vampire, Spike.
"You do these things to try frustrate me, right?" Buffy asked him quietly, her teeth tugging at her lip as Spike's mouth drifted across her body, his hands gripping the flesh of her back.
"Admit it already." Buffy teased softly.
"Didn't know I had to try." Spike answered quietly as Buffy lowered her hands to his zipper.
The sound echoed across the cabin out into the dull night and quietly Willow righted the door shut.
Spike made Buffy happy. Willow resigned herself with the thought and wiped back the tears that were beginning to gather across her cheeks before settling herself on the porch steps, the cold no longer an issue.
***
Willow sat with her knees drawn to her chin, looking up at the starlit sky she thought of Tara. The stars were amazing and prettier than anything Willow had ever seen. Tara used to talk about how the star's shone in the summertime in Alabama. She said it was flawless and the only thing that was perfect for a long time after her mother died.
Thinking about Tara like this always brought a happy, comfy feeling to Willow. It took away the guilt and the pain.
Star watching, she felt like she was sharing something with Tara. Like no matter where Tara was, she was watching the same stars.
"Look Baby," Willow whispered not noticing the new tears that were dampening her cheeks, "The Big Pineapple. You said it was better with out the smog, but I didn't know. I didn't. It's so pretty Sweetie."
Sniffling she looked away from the sky, her fingers plucking at a loose thread in her shirt cuff, "I miss you so much Sweetie, so much and it hurts like I'm dying with out you," She looked back at the sky, "But we have the stars, God they're beautiful baby."
"You'll catch your death out here." Spike's interrupted, his voice shocking Willow from her thoughts, the tiny bond she was certain she had with Tara disappeared at his approach.
"You scared me." Willow answered, wrapping her arms around her body, straightening out her knees, a frown settling across her face. She tried to bite back the envy upon looking at him.
He had Buffy.
"Talking to your bird?" He asked sitting down next to her, shrugging off his coat.
"What? No." Willow denied, refusing to allow him to share Tara's memory, too precious to give to anyone.
"Take my coat, not like I have to worry about pneumonia, is it?" Spike handed her his jacket she took it reluctantly.
"The Summer that Buffy," He paused and cleared his throat, "The summer she was gone I used to sit on the back porch, long after the Niblet had gone off to bed, and have conversations with Buffy. I'd go on about the different ways I should have saved her, or how I missed the smell of her shampoo and how sodding grateful I was that the Bit used a different brand."
"Rubbish, I know," Spike shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a cigarette, "Wherever Buffy was I wasn't good enough to consort with her, didn't have a chance. You're lucky that way."
"I'm lucky?" Willow frowned watching Spike fumble with his book of matches.
"Well, yeah. I didn't have a chance, come hell or high water, talking to the Slayer where she was, I knew it, didn't stop me, but I knew it." He tossed another useless match that wouldn't light to the ground.
"Persistence." Willow nodded numbly pulling the lighter she stuffed into her jeans pocket a few nights ago out and handing it to him.
"Had this the whole time, Pet?" He asked flipping it open drawing the flame to his cigarette.
Willow ignored his question, taking a long drag off his cigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke into the crispy air, he picked back up, "Persistence doesn't count for a lot. Could've talked to her every night and damned nearly did, she still wouldn't hear me." He paused and looked at Willow pointedly, "Bet your bird catches every word you whisper her way."
"I'm not one of the good guys." Willow said her lip trembling.
"Bollocks you aren't. You're a slight better than me, most times." He answered quietly.
"That's not saying a lot." Willow remarked cockily.
"Point taken." Spike agreed.
They sat in silence on the porch as Spike finished his cigarette. Tossing it to the ground he stood up and reached for her hand, "Wasn't kidding about you catching your death."
"Is Buffy awake?" Willow asked not taking the offered hand.
"Asleep, she was knackered out." Spike tilted his head looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to get up.
"I'm sure she was." Willow answered, the tremble that had begun earlier releasing itself into a single hiccupping sob.
She heard him sigh tiredly before dropping down next to her, a hint of his old bravado slipped through when he said, "Tell me Will, this thing, you wanting Buffy, this what you been puffed up about the last few weeks?"
"God! You're impossible!" She cried, looking at him, taking in his practiced smirk she rolled her eyes, "But you don't fool me. You're more than impossible but I don't need a villain, you don't have to be mean."
"Everyone needs a villain Kitten." He replied quietly taking the seat he had forfeited minutes ago, "Sides, I'm good at it."
"Spike." Willow started but stopped when Spike hushed her, a finger pressing softly across her lips before he picked up.
"Love's a bitch. It's a nice ride, the best, but it's a fucking bitch, in'it?" He questioned pulling out another cigarette.
"After Dru made me," He began against Willow's incredulous stare. She'd always thought Angel was responsible for the conflicting co-dependent mess in front of her.
"I loved her, she was my black pearl. A hundred plus years and she never stopped surprising me, never made me stop feeling. Never had to think about things with Drusilla, not for a good while at any rate, just had to feel. One of the few perks of being what I was, never had to think about things, just feel 'em."
"Drusilla loved Angel. Used to burn me the way she'd look at him sometimes, make me wretch it did. Angel made her after all, she was his and I was lucky to get what I got from her. He made that clear when I was in his bed."
"You and Angel?" Willow asked her mouth agape.
"Wasn't long before I started wanting him not like Dru did but still wanting him. He was our sire after all, much as he didn't make me. He was a legend then you know. I wasn't much more than a fledge and Drusilla was everything but Angelus was the master. He was such a sodding mean prick, bastard, still liked to be in his bed though."
"Why are you telling me this Spike?" Willow asked uneasily.
He shrugged and lit his cigarette, "You got something on me Pet. It ain't about comparing. Sides sometimes it's just about talking, right?"
Willow understood. He was giving her leverage, letting her in on a secret so she'd have something on him, something that would let her talk.
"Spike." Willow cried, bringing her hands to her face wiping away the tears that had been forming since he'd come outside.
"S' alright Tulip." Spike answered an unsure arm latching around her shoulders.
"You don't have to be all nice you know," Willow hiccupped, "Having a soul doesn't mean you have to be nice."
"I'm not nice, neither are you," He paused, "Best not to forget it I suppose, either one of us."
"You love her, don't you?" Willow questioned leaning into him unconsciously.
"Been singing it for years, haven't I? You just now getting it?" Spike asked mockingly.
"You make her smile, when you aren't making her want to kill you." Willow ventured her hand wiping absently at her nose, "You get her all life sparky. How?"
"Same way you do Love." He began, "She's a stubborn bint, our Slayer, takes a while but things get through eventually, don't they?"
"Why are you being like this?" Willow asked again suspiciously, "Suddenly you're the neighborhood vamp of understanding?"
"Not quite. Bloody stretch that one is Red." He smirked.
"I'm not saying it's bad, just different." Willow sighed leaning in closer to him.
He smelt like cigarettes. He also smelt like a man, not in a caveman 'me Tarzan' way, but like Oz or Xander. Men, Willow thought, had something in them that was distinct and linked them together. It was a scent, underlying and not automatically noticeable but present in all of them. It wasn't bad, just something she'd forgotten about.
It was different with girls; they were unique, at least to Willow's nose. With her eyes closed Willow could never imagine Buffy was Tara, not because they used different soaps or perfumes, they were just instinctually different. Maybe it was something that purposefully set women apart from the other sex. Marking them as individuals to men and to each other? Willow didn't know.
But she did know there was something slightly comfortable in this old familiarity. It might not be exactly what she wanted, but it was nice.
Looking up at him she tugged his chin down and brushed her lips across his, "Thank you."
"Thank you." She whispered again, her lips lingering until she felt him press back. She hadn't planned this, didn't really want it, but it somehow seemed okay or right.
"Will." Spike groaned, but he sounded so bleak, she almost pulled away but didn't her teeth tugging gently at his bottom lip. Then his arm latched onto her waist, his fingers pressed into her skin and she felt wanted.
He wasn't stopping; he wasn't pulling away. His free hand was latching onto her nape and fingers that had wrapped themselves in Buffy's hair were now tangling in hers. She shivered and pulled the vampire ever closer, eyes closed she left his lips and trailed slowly down his neck, tasting the familiar, lapping at what was new. He tasted like smoke, salt and lingering death, and the familiar honeysuckle that meant Buffy.
"So is this what the two of you get up to when I'm sleeping?" Buffy's voice drifted from the doorway, Willow stilled against Spike's neck. Her eyes closed she refused to open them. Her fingers gripped the wool of Spike's sweater tightly. He didn't push her away but she felt him slump underneath her nonetheless.
"Buffy..." She heard Spike start and then stop.
"No rest for the wicked I suppose." Buffy sighed from the doorway and Willow bit her own lip, the tears that hadn't quite stopped renewed themselves with vigorous spirit.
Willow couldn't open her eyes, or let loose of Spike no matter how much she wanted to. She was grateful that he hadn't thrown her to the wolves. He loved Buffy, maybe as much as she did and it'd be an easy thing to do. Instead his hand loosened in her hair, his fingers lightly stroking.
"Will?" Buffy began. Willow could hear the pads of her feet against the cold plywood porch as she moved closer to them. "It's okay Will."
Then Spike was gone and it was Buffy's hands tangled in her hair, the flannel of Buffy's shirt that she gripped, Buffy's pulse beneath her cheek.
"Buffy?" She asked tentatively lifting her face taking in the blonde, who looked down at her tiredly, dreamily.
"It's okay." She repeated, a sleepy smile on her lips. Willow could have sworn it all a dream if the smoke from Spike's cigarette wasn't wrapping itself around her.
Everything was suddenly and vividly real. The cold bit her skin like knives and Buffy seemed a million miles away for all that she was next to Willow.
"It's not. It's not okay..." Willow cried and pulled herself from Buffy's grasp, passing Spike as she bolted for the door.