Achilles Heel

by Elizabeth

E-mail: uhmidont@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Season Four through "Harsh Light of Day"
Summary: Spike and Buffy are cursed
Overall Rating: R

There is a certain boredom factor that comes with slaying. Oh, sure you get to save the world and there's always a new monster that you've never seen before, but there's an underlying sameness. Meet Evil. Fight Evil. Evil dies. Move on to next Evil.

I have a Psychology paper due tomorrow. On psychoanalysis. I can't even spell psychoanalysis without looking it up. I have one paragraph typed. I will have to pick Will's brain apart when I get back to our room. How can I possibly write five pages about something I have no interest in, something I don't understand?

After I typed my one lonely paragraph I decided to take a break and go patrolling. Xander offered to come but I told him to go home. I like Xander but he requires concentration to be around. I have to look out for him, and I didn't feel like conversation or even distraction. I just wanted the simple, easy focus of doing my job.

But I've forgotten how boring my job can be. I have been hanging out by the cemetery for over an hour and so far I have seen one lost cat, a bunch of dead leaves, and the tips of my shoes. I am contemplating them as I sit on one of the many monuments that line the graveyard, idly wondering why it is that the toes of shoes always get so scuffed up. Even if you polish them. And I've never polished a pair of shoes in my life.

I kick my heels back against the marble stone, enjoying the soft noises they make. Hey, a girl needs something to keep her mind busy.

I always tease Giles when he talks to me about a Slayer's "senses", but he's right, I really do sense things sometimes. Like right now, I'm sensing that I'm finally going to get to do something.

Oh, ok, you caught me. I didn't really sense anything. Demons usually smell terrible and I just got a whiff of a real nice garbagey smell. But 'smell'-'sense', they're close, right?

I hop off the monument and go look for stinkiness that could possibly be evil. After a few minutes, I find something.

Now, most demons are pretty easy to spot. Tall, ugly, smelly. This one is very typical. It even has the usual pair of horns or whatever they are supposed to be sticking out of its head. Even small, beady eyes. It's snuffling over something. Turns out to be a kid who gets up and runs away when the demon lumbers towards me.

I'm familiar with the way demons fight. They always expect you to be weak, they lunge straight for you. Then, if they live past that first assault, they figure out who I am and reassess. Sometimes they are so confused by someone who will stand up to them that they can't even gather their defenses for a decent fight. This demon figures out I'm a Slayer pretty quickly, and is smart enough to pull back a little. To gather its resources and wait for me to make the next move.

We fight for a while. Nothing major. In fact, part of my mind is still on that stupid paper that waits for me back at the dorm. Mistake. The demon catches my distraction, smacks me right across the face. I fly back a few feet, landing at the base of a headstone. Why do they always have flowers carved on them?

There's clapping. I look around and see Spike resting against a crypt a few feet away. "Way to go" he calls out. Oh, he's so dead.

The demon, sensing the presence of someone like it, turns and makes a snuffling entreaty in Spike's direction. Spike shakes his head. "Uh huh. She'll kill you, you were too stupid to finish her off when you had the chance, you wasted time asking me for help. She'll kill you and then I'll help myself to weakened Slayer leftovers."

That does it. I *hate* it when I'm discussed like that. Like I'm not there, like I can't take care of some third rate crusty demon and the blond wanna-be who's ass I've wiped the floor with before. I get up and focus on taking the stinky demon out. By the time Spike gets off his ass and decides that he wants to fight me too, I'll have taken care of problem number one.

It doesn't take too long to wear the demon down. A couple of kicks, one good punch to the head, and I've got it pinned. Spike snorts. "What did I tell you?"

The demon turns its stinky demon breath away from me and looks at Spike. It hisses something at him. Why can't they just speak regular people talk? But no, it's always "Gdornetyger toerthetg" or some other dead language nonsense. Too bad Giles isn't around to translate. Spike says "Hey, what do you mean, fear?"

"Listen up" I tell the demon. "Don't you want to be paying attention when I kill you?" It turns back to me, and as I slide the stake into its chest it hisses something to me. I don't hear much of the words, but I catch the last part. "..what you fear" it mutters (how considerate, to finally say something I can understand) and then its dead.

Most demons don't disintegrate. Vampires do, but the rest of them just lay there. Demon corpses. Great. After I deal with Spike, I'll be hauling yet another stinky demon body into the woods by the cemetery. I sure hope their bodies decompose and make nice mulch or something.

I turn and get ready for Spike's attack. To my surprise, he is standing there with a shocked look on his face. "Bastard cursed me" he mutters.

I laugh. "Serves you right. I hope you get stuck with Harmony for an eternity." He grimaces and then smirks at me. "It cursed you too, I might add. Didn't you catch that last bit?"

"No." But I remember that it did say something. Something about fear.

Spike hops down from the monument and starts to walk away. "Wait a minute!" I call after him. "Where are you going?"

He ignores me and fades into the night. I feel a chill creep up my spine. Spike never turns down a fight. I need to talk to Giles. Now. I start to leave the cemetery and remember the stupid demon body that's still lying on the ground.

I go back and drag it into the woods. As I stand there looking down at it's body, the strangest sensation washes over me. A bad feeling. Like something's started. Something I won't like.

***

Giles is home, entertaining. He's become quite the man of leisure since he stopped being a Watcher. He looks surprised to see me, asks if I can come back later. I tell him "No."

He invites me in and I tell him about the demon. He frowns when I get to the muttering and possible curse part and goes to get one of his old moldering books. He shows me a picture. "Is that what the demon looked like?"

Maybe. Giles doesn't realize that they all look the same. And if I said that to him, he'd say "Oh no, really, they don't Buffy. See, the "insert boring demon name here" has a slightly pointed snout while "insert other boring demon name here" has a more elongated set of claws." Uh-huh. However, the picture he's shown me isn't quite right. "No" I tell him. "It was different." He shows me a few more pictures but none of them match the demon I saw.

He sighs and puts the book down. "Do you remember what the demon said?" I close my eyes and try to remember. I guess the best I can, trying to reconstruct from what I heard the demon say to Spike and then to me. "Oh, and it said 'what you fear' right before I staked it."

Giles frowns and goes to get a few more books. After looking at a few pages he takes his glasses off and sighs. Trouble. When Giles takes his glasses off, things are bad. "Buffy" he tells me "what you said seems to be a curse of some sort. The closest thing I can find to it is an invocation that promises to bring someone's worst fears to pass."

I look down. There are goosebumps on my arms. "My worst fear?"

Giles sighs. "Yes, or at least whatever you worst fear was at the time you killed the demon. I may be able to do something to counteract it, but you'll need to tell me what your worst fear is"

Failing all my classes. Dying before I'm 25. Never meeting someone nice. Having Angel turn back to Angelus. Finding out that my mom had sex with Giles. I throw the last one in to tease him, but he doesn't smile. "I was kidding" I tell him. "You know, trying to de-tense the situation and all that."

HE smiles at me, but it's a weary smile. "I'll see what I can do about a protection spell. I'll need to talk to Willow. In the meantime, why don't you call Angel to see if he's ok"

I don't really want to call Angel---it's too painful, but I force myself to dial the number that I've memorized even though I haven't spoken to him since he left. We have an incredibly awkward conversation, but he seems to be o.k. He tells me to take care of myself. I hang up the phone and stare at the wall till I am sure I won't cry.

Giles gives me a hug and tells me not to worry. That everything will be fine. I nod and tell him I'm o.k.. I go back to campus and talk to Willow for a while. She tells me not to worry, that she will find a spell to counteract everything and that I'll be fine.

I sit down to work on my paper. By 4:30 a.m., I'm on paragraph number two.

That's it, I am cursed.

PART TWO

I manage to pull together five pages of crap for my class. And I even manage to make it to the end of class. Professor Walsh glares at me but doesn't say anything to me as I slide my paper into the pile that rests by her desk. Guess I'm maybe not so cursed after all. At least with school. Although I haven't gotten the paper back yet...maybe I should wait to see my grade first.

I go to lunch with Willow and Oz and suffer through their excruciatingly painful over-happiness. I see Parker sitting a few tables away with a girl. I hate her. No, I hate him. As Willow said, he's a poop head.

Ha! Who am I kidding? I would give my right arm to have him look at me again like he did that one night. I know I didn't do anything wrong, I know he's an ass, but still, it hurts. I just wanted to be happy. Is that so wrong?

I go to the rest of my classes and think about doing my laundry. I decide it can wait. I haven't worn all my shirts twice yet. I might be a little ripe, but it costs a dollar to wash and dry a load of laundry. And it's not like I can get a job to make some money. Oh no, I have to keep the world safe and all that.

Oz is playing at the Bronze tonight. Willow asks me to go and I say yes because I don't want to spend Friday night sitting alone in my dorm room. At the Bronze, Willow watches Oz, Xander makes eyes at Anya, and I look at all the couples around me.

What do I fear?

That I'll end up all alone.

Seems that's happened too. Geesh, I don't need a demon to curse me, I'm doing a great job all by myself. I tell Willow I'm going to go back to the dorm. She gives me a concerned smile and hands me a necklace. "I was going to give it to you later" she tells me. "It's a protection amulet." I thank her, put it on, and give her a hug.

When I get outside I take the amulet off and look at it. It's just a little bag attached to a fake leather cord. The bag smells like slightly rotten potpourri. But it couldn't hurt to wear it for a while. Just in case and all that.

As I walk across campus I get the feeling that someone is watching me. Notice I didn't say 'strange' feeling. Since I became a Slayer it seems that someone is always watching me. "Ok," I call out to the trees that line the walkway, "come on out and show yourself. I want to get any fighting over with because I have a lot of sleep to catch up on."

Nothing. Maybe I'm being paranoid. I take a close look around, peering into the dark to see if I can make out any shifty evil type shapes. Don't see anything, so I continue on my not-so merry way. I hope I have that dream about the cute guy in my English class again. That's something to look forward to. So what if I'm all alone on a Friday night?

Something smashes into my back and I fall, face first, onto the walkway. I roll over and spring to my feet, catching a quick glimpse of a red shirt and a leather jacket. Spike. Figures. He sure does need some new clothes.

"What is that awful stench?" he asks. "You smell like a moldering old corpse."

I land a nice uppercut to his chin. "It's a protection amulet."

He responds by kicking me in the knee. "How does it work? Wait, scratch that. The stink alone is making my head hurt. Though I don't see what you need protection from. It's not like the fellows are lining up to walk you home, but I suspect that's more than likely due to your enchanting personality than your current state as an olfactory nightmare."

Olfactory nightmare?

Enchanting personality?

That last one should make me mad, but it makes me think of Harmony. I'm Ms. Perfection compared to her. That thought surprises a laugh out of me and I drop my fists down for a second. He's looking at me quizzically. "What?"

"I just pictured Harmony getting a whiff of this" I tell him. I can see her now, all 'eww'ing and all that. Worrying that it would stink up her clothes. Worrying that the amulet wouldn't match her shoes. Ok, I might have noticed that too, but you'd think the demon that took over her body could maybe be just a little less shallow.

To my surprise, Spike's smiling. He looks strange when he smiles. With all that pale hair and those cheekbones he looks like something out of all the paintings I'm forced to view in Art History 101.

"The curse, right?" he says.

I nod and he snorts. "I thought the Slayer was above all that sort of stuff. You know, being the chosen one and all that."

Wait a minute. Now that I think about it, the amulet does smell pretty strongly. Funny, I don't remember the stink being that bad. Spike moves back a little and the light from the walkway catches something hanging around his neck. I grab for his big fat head and he moves back, out of my reach. "You're wearing one too" I tell him. That surprises me. How does Spike know about these things?

He shrugs and I swear, I think his face turns red. Of course, that's not possible. Vampires don't blush. "Don't tell me you think the curse is real"

"I just put it on to keep all the women at bay" he tells me. "You know how it is. I'm a looker and they tend to get all goggly eyed around me. Now that the poof has renounced evil I'm the one they all want."

Sure they do. "You couldn't even keep your crazy girlfriend. You're stuck with Harmony."

He smiles again, ignoring my Dru taunt. Curious. "She has her uses."

Ick. Even when they are vampires, all men are idiots. And I don't believe him for a second. If Spike and I are both wearing similar amulets, then something is most definitely going on. "How did you get the amulet?" Willow? I knew I shouldn't have left the Bronze. "Did you hurt Willow?"

"The little witch? Please. Like she's the only one who can cast a spell."

Ten to one there's another dead body report in the paper tomorrow. "You shouldn't keep eating the clerks at the magic store. They're going to go out of business if you keep killing all the help."

He shrugs again. This is the longest almost conversation I've ever had with Spike. What is going on? I'm not sure what I should do. Fighting with vamps is one thing. Talking to them is another. I try to think of something to say, but what?

So, what do you want? He'd never give me a straight answer. Is this curse for real? Bet he wonders the same thing. How come you always wear the same shirt? That's probably one for Unsolved Mysteries.

Spike sighs. "Look Slayer," (I sometimes feel like I should change my name to that, I swear, I spend more time being called that then Buffy) "what did that git of a Watcher tell you about the curse?"

"You're worried" I breathe. I can't believe it. Spike is actually worried about something. I take a quick look around to make sure that I'm still in *this* universe. "Why?"

He growls at me and vamps out. "Just tell me what you bloody know!" he hollers.

"Why?" I'm going to have to go see Giles. This is really serious. When something evil riles the undead, that's not a good sign. I hope the Hellmouth isn't going to open up and try to bring about the end of the world again. I have another paper due on Monday.

He lunges at me, and I take a quick step to the side. "Fine" he hisses. "I did some checking and I found out that what that sodding demon said to me is some sort of curse that brings someone's worst fears to pass. Happy?"

"And you want me to...what?" I can just imagine what Spike's worst fear is. Probably the drugstore running out of peroxide.

A couple comes walking up the path. It's Parker and the girl I saw him with at lunch today. He says "Hey" when he walks by. And that's it.

God. More humiliation. Should I be happy that I rate a "hey'? The sad thing is, if I was alone, I'd probably take this as some sort of sign and go moon over Parker for a while. But it doesn't mean anything, I know that. Having someone witness another great Buffy moment just keeps me from pretending to make myself feel o.k. for a while.

I don't want to deal with Spike anymore. I turn and start to walk away. I'll call Giles when I get back to the room. Though frankly, I don't really care if the world is going to end right now. Could hell be any worse than this?

"Hey!" Spike calls out. I ignore him and keep walking. It was bad enough that he had to hear Parker tell me that I meant nothing to him. This is just extra salt in the wound. I know I should fight him but I really just want to get back to my room and cry in peace. Hang what I'm supposed to do for once. I need some alone time.

I hear someone running behind me, and for a moment I wonder what Spike would do if I just turned and offered him my neck. But he probably wouldn't be content with just killing me. "Go away" I tell him. "I don't want to deal with you right now."

He doesn't say anything. I walk a little faster. I can feel the tears leaking out now, and I'm going to start sniffling in a minute. I don't want anyone to see that.

"Dru dumped me in front of Harmony" he says.

I keep walking and I see him out of the corner of my eye. He looks irritated. Why? I certainly didn't ask to hear about his psycho ex-girlfriend. "So?"

"I'd found Dru, and I thought we were happy. Decided that I would take her out to celebrate. We were in a club looking for some fun and she came up and told me that I was boring and she'd found something better to do. Stupid fungus demon. She didn't even say goodbye. She just left."

"Why are you telling me this?" My head hurts, and I am sniffling now. I hope Parker falls in a sewer and gets eaten by rats. I hope he gets some sort of nasty wasting disease. Maybe I should ask Willow to put a hex on him. I wonder if she'd do that.

"I'm just trying to say..." He sounds agitated. Thank God I'm by my dorm. This is all too freaky for me. I hope my nose isn't running. And I still have to call Giles and ask about that damn curse.

Spike is standing near me now. I can smell that stupid amulet that we are both wearing. I look up at him and I can feel my mouth open in shock. He looks almost pensive. "I'm trying to say that this Parker is the least of your problems. I've never been cursed before, at least not like that."

"How sweet of you to be so worried about yourself" I mutter. "I tell you what, when I talk to Giles, I'll be sure to call you and fill you in on what he says." I start to go inside. Spike can't follow me, thank God. I need a good cry and some serious moping time.

He grabs my arm. "Hey" he says. "God, you are bitchy. Look, I was just trying to tell you..."

"that you know how I feel?" I finish. "Save it. I don't buy it. Not for a second. You're all freaked about something, probably this stupid curse. Even if I knew anything I wouldn't tell you. Now go away."

I open the door and walk inside.

"Angel."

Even though he's gone, his name alone is enough to give me pause. I turn and walk back outside. "What?"

Spike lets out a disgusted sigh. "That's my fear. That I'm going to get all self-righteous like the poof and all that."

"What?" I know, not very original, but I didn't expect to hear this.

"Did I attack you earlier?"

* No.* "You didn't exactly walk up and say 'hi'."

"But I didn't do anything. I don't feel like killing you. Something's happening to me." Is that panic I hear in his voice?

"Don't worry" I tell him. "You'll never be Angel." I shut the door and walk up to my room. Stupid Spike.

I call Giles and he tells me he needs to do some research. That he hasn't found anything yet, but he'll work on it. "If Spike's worried, that's not a good sign." He tells me to get some sleep.

I crawl into bed and look at the ceiling for a while. Right before I fall asleep, a random thought flickers through my brain.

I didn't think about staking Spike tonight. Not once.

PART THREE

It's late. 2 a.m. Sunday, which makes it technically Monday. I am sitting in one of the showers in the dorm bathroom, trying to think. I don't want to see Willow; I don't want to see anyone. I need to think, I have to think. It's quiet in here for the most part. Someone came in and threw up a couple of minutes ago. I listened to the noise, the person breathing, the mutters of "last time I ever drink that." It was comforting in a way. Familiar. Normal.

The dorm showers at Sunnydale U. are pretty grim. Concrete cubes built into the wall, fourth rate shower curtains that don't keep water in the shower. It runs all over the floor instead. The showerheads leak. The top of my head is pretty damp. It's dark too, but I don't really care about that.

I've been so wrong about this stupid curse thing. I was sort of worried at first, more concerned after that surreal conversation with Spike on Friday, reassured earlier, and completely freaked now. It's like I started walking down a hill but I'm not walking anymore or even running. I'm just falling and there's nothing I can do about it. I just keep smacking the ground, over and over again.

I have been trying to think of what to say to Giles. I need to make him understand the urgency of the situation but I don't want to tell him everything. He wouldn't understand. I don't even understand. I'm just a not quite twenty-year-old sitting in a cold damp concrete cube at two in the morning. Why should anyone listen to what I have to say?

The weekend was fairly uneventful. Saturday was pleasantly boring. I pretended to do some homework, convinced Willow to wash some of my laundry when she did a load, and painted my toenails. I thought about starting on my next paper, but decided it could wait. Then I ate at the dining hall, called my mom-"Yes, I'm doing fine, could I maybe borrow some money?" Changed my clothes, fixed my hair, went to a party.

Stood around, looked at cute guys, stammered all over myself when someone tried to talk to me. I'm not confidence girl recently. After a while, Willow came over to check on me. "Buffy, are you o.k.?" I nodded and she continued. " Not every guy is Parker. You'll see. There's someone nice out there just waiting to meet you."

"Thanks Will" She's right. Not every guy is like some Parker. Some are like Angel. That's worse. I kept thinking about what Spike said. About how he was worried about the curse, about what he thought it could be doing to him.

Before I know it, the party wound down and I trailed Willow and Oz back to the dorms. Another thrilling night for the Slayer.

I had a dream that night. It was one I used to have a lot a few years ago. I'm waiting for Angel and he comes to see me. I ask him about the night we spent together and he's so cold and mean that I'm stunned. And then, in the dream, I realize that I'm dreaming about something that really happened, and I try to think about something else, happier times maybe, or even times that weren't quite *so* bad, but all I can hear is the scorn in his voice. And then I see all the bad things that happened afterward.

Having to kill Angel was cathartic in a lot of ways, but I never got up enough nerve to really talk to him about when he was Angelus, even after he came back. It was too painful. And the knowledge that I...that what we did caused that...it's something that is always there, in the back of my mind.

Anyway, in the dream I had, Angel was talking to me, saying all those horrible things and I was listening, trying not to cry. And then I started seeing everything that happened after that fly by really quickly, and I tried to think of something better. Like before Angel and I ruined everything, when we would meet and talk. I thought about one time when we were at his apartment. He was kissing me, and he told me we had to be careful. And I opened my eyes to say "I know" but this time it was Spike who was there when I opened my eyes.

I woke up with a start. I remembered what Giles said about curses, what the demon said about "what you fear," and I realized what my greatest fear was. But it couldn't possibly happen, I told myself. Angel is gone; I'm not going to get involved with another vampire in any way. Ever. And I told myself that even if I was having any sort of gushy feelings, I certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to do anything about it. I have enough trouble with regular guys. I didn't need to throw the undead into the mix. I tried not to think about it too much, and listened to Willow breathing till I could fall asleep again.

I don't feel like killing you. Something's happening to me.

No, no, no, no. Giles will find something. Or Willow will. I will not be stupid and self-destructive. Again.

***

On Sunday I went out to make the rounds. Checking the cemeteries, the tunnels-the usual undead hangouts. I was feeling pretty good. I'd actually made progress on my stupid paper for English-I wrote about a story that Willow convinced me to read and she said the paper was good when she looked at it. I'd talked to Giles on Sunday morning and he'd told me that the thing with curses is that they can be manipulated.

He told me that if Spike was no longer feeling the urge to kill me then maybe he could help us. I didn't know how good of an idea that was, but Giles seemed to think it had possibilities. That we could use Spike to keep tabs on what was going on, stuff like that. I said "What about me?" and he pointed out that since Angel and I were no longer living in the same town things were pretty safe. "Although you probably shouldn't go visit him." Right, like I was going to skip out on classes and drive to L.A. to see the guy who broke my heart about ten million times. But I was cheered by the fact that Giles seemed to think that this whole curse thing could work out. That it wasn't a big deal. And it was nice, in a way, to hear that Giles thinks that Angel could only be happy with me. After the crap with Parker, I could use an ego boost of some sort.

So there I was, patrolling and stuff. Willow and Oz were off checking out the library for more info. -they still haven't been able to figure out what sort of demon cursed me. Us. No, me and Spike. No. Me. Spike. Separate. Xander was nowhere to be found -- or at least, he wasn't in his basement.

I'd finished looking around and was getting ready to go to the library. I'd thought that maybe I'd meet up with Willow and Oz and we'd go get coffee or something.

**

I'm trying to think about how to organize my thoughts here. A straightforward recounting? I don't think I can get the necessary distance to do that. A simple statement?

What happened next was a complete shock.

But you see, it wasn't a shock. I knew.

I knew what was going to happen with Spike. Stupid dream. Knew what to expect, didn't think anything of it, wouldn't let myself think anything of it except 'Who'd have thought this would happen?" and then later 'Oh no'. I hadn't really believed that what Spike told me was true, about not being able to hurt me. He lies all the time. He's good at it.

And he hates me. I can see it in his eyes. He blames me for all his troubles with Dru. If I hadn't been with Angel, then he wouldn't have turned. And Dru wouldn't have gone to Angelus. And Spike wouldn't have made a truce with me to get her back. Which made her suspect him, his loyalties. And then he lost her.

What a twisted path. My head hurts trying to think of all the pieces. But I do know he doesn't like me. He wants me dead. He came back to get that stupid gem to kill me. And now, now because of that stupid demon, he can't. I think he knows what I really worry about; I think he wants it to happen because he thinks it will free him. And I don't want it to happen, I don't. But it's like it was with Angel, except worse. With Angel, I knew there were risks, but I didn't know what there were. I know now, and I still can't get the distance I need.

I ran into Spike over by the new subdivision. Lots of expensive homes and all that. I don't care how much the houses cost, who'd want to live near three cemeteries? That's where the undead hang out. But people just don't see that, they see a big house and a nice yard and then they buy the house and I have to watch out for them, their kids-it never ends.

Spike was just sitting on top of a wall, watching a family. He'd never admit it, but I think he had his eye on all of them. He's cocky that way, he wouldn't be satisfied with one person, he'd want them all, the whole family.

He'd raised an eyebrow when I said his name, but didn't do anything else. I guess it hadn't escaped his notice that I hadn't tried to stake him the other night. I told him that I wasn't going to let him kill anyone in front of me and asked him about Harmony-trying to get a rise out of him.

"She went to France." That was all he said. Nothing else. It was chilling to see how much he didn't care about her. She is like him, and he cares nothing for her. There wasn't much I could say to that so I just jumped up on top of the wall, sat next to him, and watched as the family tried to go about cleaning up from whatever it was they were doing. (A housewarming party, maybe?) And trying to ignore the two people sitting and watching them. I think that whatever it is that makes Sunnydale so evil scares people. But they convince themselves that they are imaging it and that they are safe. But maybe that happens everywhere.

After a while, he spoke. "Did you talk to your watcher?"

"I did." I left out the part about how Giles thinks he could help us. I didn't think that would go over well, and just mentioned that maybe the curse could be manipulated in some way to end it. He looked at me then, and that's when I realized that Spike truly resents me. For everything.

But I'm used to being actively hated by the undead, so it didn't bother me. Of course, that doesn't explain why I am still thinking about it.

"Do you think that there's a way to break the curse?"

I shrugged. After the dream I had, I was pretty sure I knew what my fear was, how the curse could be broken, but I wasn't about to tell him that. Instead, I just told him about Angel and how I worried he was going to turn into Angelus. He laughed and said that Angel enjoyed being self-righteous and saving the weak. "He's not going to give that up easily. Besides he said..."

I cut him off by backhanding him as hard as I could. "I know, 'I wasn't worth a second go.'" He scrambled up and made a half-hearted swipe at me. I laughed at him, and he made all sorts of muttering noises about the things he was going to do to me when the curse was broken. Breaking my spine, cracking my head, all that.

"You really can't hurt me?"

He made a disgusted noise and sat down beside me. "I wish I could. Do you really think I want to hear you blather on about the poof or how I'm supposed to not feed on others?"

"Don't think you're any better" I told him. "You're a menace and I would like nothing better than to stake your sorry ass." He smirked and told me that I could have killed him before, during that awful party I went to with Parker. "I turned my back on you to talk to Harm and you didn't do anything."

"Because I was trying to figure out what you were talking about" I told him sharply. "Plus I would have missed Harmony's speech about how you still moon over Dru."

He told me to shut up, and I told him not to tell me to shut up.

Then silence. Not a comfortable silence, an edgy silence. I cracked first, I'm sad to say. I said something brilliant like "Now what?" Lame. And then I might have mentioned my stupid ass dream, just a little of it. I can feel my face flushing just thinking about how I more than likely blabbered on. And why did I tell him? Don't want to think about it.

He'd looked at me like I was an idiot, which rankled. But still, he didn't try to kill me, and I didn't try to stake him. And we just sat there for a while longer till he let out an exasperated sigh and turned to face me. And I couldn't let him see that I was nervous, so I turned and stared right back at him. I knew what he was going to do.

"Do you think this will end the curse?" My voice sounded higher than normal. I was scared. What if it worked? Or what I really feared, what if it didn't? Then what?

He looked surprised at my tone. "It'd better" he told me. "How do you think it would look if word of this got out? I'm not supposed to be hanging out chatting with Slayers."

Or kissing them. But I didn't say that, I wasn't really capable of forming sentences. I just kept thinking, it'll work, it'll work, and ignoring the other little voice that said 'Liar, liar, you know it won't. You know there's more.'

I didn't trust him enough to close my eyes, and he didn't trust me either. In the beginning it was the most awkward kiss I've ever had. He just grabbed my shoulders and set his mouth on mine, eyes open. Staring at me. I just stared back, and wondered if my eyes were crossing from trying to keep tabs on what he was doing.

Up close, his eyes are all sorts of different colors. And I could see myself, my open eyes, reflected in his. I looked pretty panicked.

A vampire's flesh is different than a human's. Their skin is different, harder. Less resilient. So his mouth was firm, but not stiff...kind of like when you get a peach that isn't quite ripe. The skin is all stretched. Taut. That's it. Taut. Nice word. Describes how I feel now too.

Of course, I have kissed a vampire before. That first kiss with Angel was a shock. It felt a little different, but then, it's not like I'd been making out with guys left and right. So I didn't really think about it too much. But then finding out why he was so different...well, that was rough.

But I knew with Spike. No 'Surprise, I'm a vampire' shock. His mouth was just pressed against mine. It was like a parody of a kiss, really. Two nervous figures sitting on a wall near a cemetery and a subdivision, eyes open, mouths closed. After a minute, he said "Are we done?" His lips moved as he spoke, I could feel his upper lip rise up a little, brush against the top of my mouth, then back down.

I said "I guess so." I could feel my own mouth moving as I answered him, sort of like a caress, but not really since I wasn't doing that. I think he said something after that, but I don't know. I was trying to be detached, I really was. But I liked the feel of his mouth, which horrified me -- but not enough to move away.

It changed after that. Like I said, he might have said something. But his eyes were a little darker and I said "On the count of three" fully intending to pull back and announce that the curse was over and could he hold on while I got a stake out. But instead both our mouths parted a little, I was breathing, I don't know what his excuse was, and then it just seemed a shame not to move my mouth a tiny bit, I was really pulling away-and then it was almost a real kiss but not quite because my eyes were open. And then...well then it was a real kiss and it was sort of like fighting because we were both straining against each other, not touching anywhere, just our mouths, but I could feel the tension in my body, knew it was mirrored in his, and I don't really want to remember the rest.

It ended because I couldn't breathe. Or I'd forgotten to. I could feel his teeth on my bottom lip and my eyes flew open. When had I closed them? And then I realized that I needed a breath and I pulled back, saw that his eyes had closed too-he even has pale eyelids-and we both sort of stared at each other. I could see my horrified face in his eyes. He wouldn't be able to see his own face, but he didn't look too happy either.

I waited for at least ten seconds. He didn't lunge at me or vamp out. I didn't grab a stake. He said "Shit!" at the same time I did and we both vaulted off the wall and walked off in opposite directions. Not running. Just walking quickly.

So now I sit in the shower. A kiss wasn't enough. I knew it wouldn't be. I think of his mouth, the texture, the cold, all the sensation. It's like it was with Angel, only a million times worse because I don't have any common sense to hold me back.

I want to come to a comfortable conclusion and go get some sleep. I have classes soon, I have a life that needs attending to. This curse will bring me nothing but trouble, I have to find a way to stop it.

PART FOUR

I have recently begun counting the days till Winter Break. Still have a way to go-a long way to go, but the thought of a month with no homework, no papers, no community bathroom...bliss. I want to go home and be spoiled rotten by my mother. I want to eat food that doesn't come slopped on a tray or wrapped in plastic.

I am supposed to be in Psychology right now. I don't feel like going, even though I know Professor Walsh will be sure to comment on my absence the next time I go. Then Riley will tell me I need to focus and study and all that. He's so earnest. He's the kind of guy I should be interested in-and if it wasn't for this stupid curse, I might be. He's so bland and beige and soothing. I don't think he would stomp on my bruised emotions. He'd like me and respect me and maybe even not dump me. Imagine that. I sure can't.

I am pretending to study, and when Willow comes back to the room she merely offers me the notes from today's lecture. I tell her thanks and she says, "Oz skipped too. Have you seen him?" I shake my head and she hands me an envelope. "I forgot to tell you, someone slipped this under the door last night while you were over at Giles' house."

I open it, read it, and tear it up into little pieces. "Everything o.k.?" Willow is trying to find Oz; she's looking at me from her bed, the phone resting under her ear.

"Just fine" I'm getting to be so good at lying. I'm fine, everything's fine, what curse were you talking about? Oh that, I know, it's nothing. The note? Just from a mutual enemy. I look at my watch. It's a long time till midnight.

**

The cemetery is deserted when I get there. Figures. Spike likes to make an entrance. If there were a way for him to appear in a puff of smoke with accent lighting, he'd do it. He's such a show-off. I sit down by a crypt and wait for him. It must be urgent if he actually contacted me. His note didn't say much, just that he'd found a way to solve our problem. I think that's what it said, I hope my handwriting isn't as bad as his is.

Maybe he really has found a way to stop the curse. I suppose I could have if I'd been able to tell Willow or Giles exactly why the curse needs to be stopped. But I haven't so they figure that everything is fine, that the problem is somehow related to Angel, my feelings for him. And since Angel is far away, what's there to worry about?

But you see, it's more complicated than that. I still care for Angel, I still think 'what if?' But what I fear isn't Angel, it's me. I finally managed to articulate my fear earlier this afternoon when I got that stupid note from Spike. A Buffy-style epiphany, if you will. Brought on by a torn piece of paper and the barely legible handwriting that covered it.

The way I could feel my heart beating when I saw it, the way I knew who it was from. Stupid, God-I am so stupid. My fear is that I will fall for another vampire, and it will all go to hell when I do something monumentally dumb like admit that I care or even worse, do something about it.

I asked Xander to go with me tonight, but he has a job, he has to work. I asked Willow-she's watching Oz play at the Bronze. Giles has a date-a date! "You don't need me" he said "It's just patrol."

Yes. Just patrol. That's what I said. How would you know that it's anything different? It's not like I've told you everything about the curse, is it? Let Spike have good news. I have a stake in my jacket pocket, I want to end it all. Good-bye curse, good-bye Spike. Hello to a more relaxing Slayer existence.

A sudden rush of air near my head cuts off my thoughts. I turn and the kick misses me by inches. Less even. I spring up, pulling my stake out of my coat pocket.

It's not Spike. Just a lone vamp, looking for food. He's fairly quick, jumping back when I lunge for his chest and punching me in the nose. I pivot, landing a side kick, and he staggers forward, off balance. I push the stake into his chest and watch as he vanishes.

When I first came to town and the Master was running wild, I used to sometimes get this horrible dizzy feeling whenever he was getting ready to do something really bad. I would feel cold and sort of trembly and everything would be a little out of focus. Sort of like how I feel now. I got it right before graduation too. Giles says it's a sort of built in radar, part of that whole Slayer sense stuff.

I see Spike. The feeling gets worse. He's vamped out, and he's smiling. He makes a sweeping gesture towards me and what must be at least ten vamps pour out from a neighboring crypt, heading straight for me.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to come" he says. "And without any of your little friends. Pity. I promised everyone a nice meal. I guess they'll have to quibble over you."

I managed to kick two of the vamps back a little and hit a third in the throat. But they just get up and shake themselves, ready to fight again. I have *one* stake. Couldn't bring two, oh no, I was worried it would make my jacket bulge all funny.

"I thought you couldn't hurt me" I hope I don't sound as worried as I feel.

He looks annoyed, and some of the vampires stop and look at him, surprised. I manage to stake one. Just eight, no nine, more to go. I though I kept the vamp population down. He growls at them and they turn back towards me. Obedient as sheep, not caring what I say. They just want blood, that's what they all want.

"I can't" he calls out, swinging his heels against the crypt wall. I do that sometimes too. "But it doesn't mean the rest of 'em can't. I figure I don't have to worry about the curse if you're dead. I'm such a clever fellow."

Now what? No one is going to rescue me; no one has any idea what's going on.

I try, I really do. But even though I'm the Slayer, I'm not invincible. I kill three more of the vampires, but there are still six of them. And I'm getting tired. I have a hard time keeping my fists up, my arms are tired. I get kicked in the face once, then twice. I fall back and hit my head on a footstone. Footstones are worse than headstones. A headstone at least marks who you were, when you lived. A footstone just marks where the end of your corpse rests. Who cares about that?

I manage to get up and stake two more before I lose Mr. Pointy. With no weapon, I'm in even more trouble. A couple more hits-- how do they know my ribs hurt so much?-- and I'm down, resting between two graves. How fitting.

The vamps can tell I'm weakening. They are standing over me arguing a little and kicking me in the side when I try to get up. They are arguing over who gets to kill me. Killing a Slayer means bragging rights for a vampire. How many times did I have to hear Spike proclaim that he'd taken out two Slayers? They finally reach a decision and the rib-pummeling stops.

I've died before. I know Slayers don't live long, that I'm lucky. I think about Kendra, about Faith, about all the Slayers who came before me. I've done a good job; I've saved the world over and over again. But I never thought I'd die like this. I've always hoped I'd at least get rid of all the vampires first, or better yet, be the first Slayer who lived long enough to retire. There's a world out there that I could enjoy, I just need a little time.

I'm having a hard time breathing. It takes a lot to hurt me, but I'm pretty sure my ribs are broken or at least bruised. I can hear my breaths, the sharp wheeze in-it hurts, I'm seeing stars. The exhale that's not long enough, I have to breathe again and it's just pain-am I even getting any air?

I see Spike. He's standing next to the crypt now. Just watching. His face isn't vamped anymore. His hands are twitching. When he grabbed me once, a long time ago, and asked for a truce, his hands were shaking. I thought that was odd. Vampires don't have souls, they don't have emotions, they don't care. That's what makes Angel so special. He can care, he can love.

But Spike loved Dru. Hell, for all I know, he loves her still. I wondered how that could be, but never really thought about it. Just one of those things. Maybe... there's a sensation on my neck, it's one of the vamps leaning over me, her teeth are sinking into my flesh a little.

Just don't turn me. Just let me die in peace. I'm not asking for that much. The other vamps have all moved in to watch and wait. They all want a turn. I take one last look over at Spike, who is closer now. His hands are clenching and unclenching so quickly that I can't really follow them. My stake is at least four feet away, I can't reach it. If I had it, I could kill him now. Right? Right?

There's a hot sensation on my neck. Funny, since vampires are so cold. But it must be my blood leaking out. " I don't want to be turned. Please." It hurts to speak, even opening my mouth makes my head swim more. The roaring in my ears is growing; the ground is black beneath me. Is this how it ends-it's really a fade to black? I thought that only happened in the movies.

The roaring is louder, it's windy now, and I can hear it. The heat on my neck goes-no more blood left in me then? A thump as something lands next to me, another blast of air. A couple more thumps. My heart, still beating? No, it's done, the thumping has stopped now.

I hear something that sounds like my name, a "Buffy?" but it sounds funny. Wrong, all wrong. The last thing I see is dark. It isn't that bad after all.

***

The first thing I see is dark. I'm suspended, or held up in it. Floating in the dark maybe? That certainly sounds stupid. I thought death would be a little classier. There is some light, just little points, but they look awfully far away. Now this figures. I'm dead and I have to wait for the stupid light people yammer about. Or worse, I'll have to walk. And my ribs still hurt. In fact, they hurt a lot. I always figured that I'd at least be taller, have better hair, and finally be free from chronic Slayer aches and pains when I died. You know, there's got to be some sort of benefit, right?

I'm being carried. I can feel pressure under my head and under my knees. I stop looking up and look to the side. It's dark, but I realize that I'm on campus, that I'm not dead, that Spike is carrying me. I'd know that bottle blond head anywhere. A sudden rush of adrenaline-he's probably carrying me off to dump me in an alligator pit or off a building and I push myself up, rolling out of his arms. The little points of light shift-they were stars, I should have signed up for astronomy instead of biology.

I've surprised Spike. I fall out of his arms and straight down towards the ground, which comes up at me much faster than I expected. I land on my left arm and roll to the side. I try to stand up but only manage to make it to my knees.

He walks towards me and I scramble backwards. "Stupid bloody bollickin' bitch!" His hand grabs my ankle and yanks me towards him. His eyes are glittering and I use my absolute last burst of strength to kick him as hard as I can. That last burst of strength isn't much, he pushes my leg to the side and hauls me up, yanking me to my feet. I can feel myself swaying, even with his hands under my arms. "You're hurt" he mutters. "Just let me take you somewhere so you can sit down or something."

"What?" I slap at his arms, and quickly grab at them when even that simple movement makes my knees buckle. I still can't get enough air.

"Come on" he mutters and starts trying to push me along. I dig my heels in as much as I can, but the agony of trying to breathe is too much and I'm stumbling. I can't even break my fall this time and I'm thankful I at least wore a dark shirt. It's a real pain to get dirt and blood out of light-colored clothes especially since I have to wash them now. It was easier when Mom did my laundry.

He makes a disgusted noise and swings me up off the ground. "I hope no one I know sees me" he says. I hope no one I knows see me either. I don't know what happened. I really thought I was going to die, that I did die.

"You tried to kill me" His hands tighten their grip, the hand that is supporting my head digs into my scalp.

"I did."

"What happened?" The hand tightens more, I look up at his face, then look away. It's too much, he looks as angry and as terrified and as hurt as I felt earlier today when I saw his note, in the cemetery when I realized what he'd done.

"I couldn't do it" he mutters and lets out a sigh. "I couldn't fucking do it. Stupid bleeding curse! I staked four damned vamps for you. Four! Just killed them and your blood was all over the place and I could have sank my teeth into your neck or broken your bloody spine or cracked your head against a wall..."

"You don't have to go on. I get the picture" I want to sound like snappy Buffy, comeback Buffy, but I sound more like bewildered and hurt Buffy. I point to the lecture hall. "Take me in there. I can't go to the hospital. If Giles or my mother or Willow sees me, they'll want to know what happened."

He takes me inside. The hallway is quiet. Who goes to the lecture hall at one in the morning on a weeknight except for the Slayer and the vampire who just tried to kill her? It smells like feet and French fries. Spike sounds like he's gagging. I suppose if I can smell the room, it must be a million times worse for him. He takes me down to the front and puts me on the stage next to Professor Walsh's lectern.

I manage to haul myself up into a sitting position and glance at him. He's digging through his jacket pockets. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a cigarette."

He must not be able to find one, he pulls his hands out of his pockets and stares at me. His hands rest at his sides, and there they go. Clench, unclench. I try to time my breathing to it, but give up. Too much effort.

"You'll be fine, right?" I hear that note again in his voice. Panic, desperation? "Slayer?"

"You called me Buffy." I need to check my ribs but I can't get my damned coat off.

He was walking towards the door but stops when he hears my reply. A sigh, then he comes over, sits down next to me, and pulls my jacket off. "I didn't call you Buffy."

He did. Same weird pronunciation. "You never call me Buffy."

Silence. I push my hands against my sides. Pain. But I can still breathe, I think they are just bruised or cracked a little. I can wrap a bandage around them or something. I heal quickly.

"I thought you were dead. I thought that I hadn't been quick enough"

"I feel like I'm dead. I need to wrap my ribs up." I don't know what else to say. He nods at me, clearly relived that I didn't pursue what he said.

When I don't move he gestures towards me. "So, fix your ribs up and all that. Then I can go, right?"

"I don't have anything to put around them. Give me that stupid red shirt of yours"

"My shirt?" He sounds horrified.

"Yeah, your shirt. You try to kill me, you can sacrifice a shirt to bind my ribs with. Besides, you wear it way too much. You could use some new clothes. Join the 90s and all that."

"I have another four shirts just like this." he tells me, sounding slightly offended. " I just hate to tear one of them up for you."

A wardrobe made up of the same shirt? What is it with vampires? Angel always wore black, Spike owns a bunch of ugly shirts. That surprises a laugh out of me and I gasp. Pain. Stupid ribs. Spike smiles at me; he thinks he's so funny. It's a nice smile. How come I never noticed that before?

No! Bad! He just tried to kill me. Stupid curse.

He takes off his jacket and that horrible shirt. "I ought to make you tear up that jacket instead" I mutter. "Leather when it's 65 degrees outside...really." He mutters something about Slayers who wear pastels and I hear a ripping sound as he pulls the side seam on his shirt and then he hands it to me.

**

"I can't do this." I just can't hold my shirt up, wrap the fabric around my ribs, and tie it at the same time.

"What do you want me to do?" Ok, there is definitely panic in his voice. He is looking at the wall. I told him to turn around before I started my bandaging attempts.

"Turn around, keep your eyes closed, and help me" I tell him sharply. "The sooner this is done, the sooner we can both leave."

"Uh..." he turns to face me, and his eyes are indeed closed. This should be funny, right? The perfect end to what has been the night from hell, pretty much literally. I grab his hands and place them on my lifted shirt, making sure there is no way his hands are going to touch me at all. Then I wrap his torn shirt around my torso, trying to get it as tight as possible so my ribs have a little more support. His shirt looks terrible resting right under my pink bra. Figures. I tie a knot and slip the end of it inside the shirt. There, I can actually breathe a little now.

I smack his hands. "You're done."

His hands fall away from me and I reach back for my jacket. I shouldn't have done that, all my poor torn muscles are screaming in protest and I start to topple sideways. I'm like one of those toys they used to sell. Weebles, I think they were called. All wobbly and prone to falling down. Or did they not fall down? I can't remember. He catches me before I smack into the stage.

His hands are cold, I can feel them through the layers of shirt and makeshift bandage. They are shaking too and I think of how they were moving before. In the past, at the cemetery, just now. Is it a nervous tic? Can vampires have those? My own hands are resting on his upper arms; I feel the rigidity of the flesh underneath. I can hear myself breathing, the little hitch at the end of each breath I take as my abused ribs try to absorb as much air as possible so the exhale is a little father away.

He pulls me towards him. When we fought for that stupid ring, he pulled me closer in order to hit me. Now he pulls me closer and rests a hand in my hair. It hurts more than a punch, it does. I have got to tell Giles everything. I tilt my face up towards his, feel the sudden hitch in his own chest, not a breath, but a start of surprise. He wants to kiss me, I want him to kiss me, but we are still both surprised, not ready for this.

This kiss is much better than the last one. It's a real kiss, and he's gentle, watching for my ribs, one hand in my hair, the other on the small of my back. It changes, as all kisses do and we are closer, I am pressed against him, he is cold everywhere. It was like that with Angel, I always felt bad for enjoying that, but now I don't care, enjoying the cold is the least of my problems.

My back is against the lectern, his mouth is on my throat. If it weren't for the curse he would be trying to sink his fangs into my neck. I can see my stake, it rests beside my right hand. He must have picked it up for me. If it wasn't for the curse, it would be in my hand now, but it isn't, my hands are resting in his hair and I am arching towards him, not away.

He held my shirt up before. Very carefully, not touching me. Now it is bunched up in one of his hands, his other hand is pushing my bra up. Do I want this to happen? Even his breath is cold, but it isn't bad, my skin is hot. I feel his tongue on my breast, the pressure of his mouth-someone is making a noise, a sort of mewling sound. It's me, trying to breathe around the sob that is ripping up the back of my throat.

I am crying and he lifts his head up. "Tell me to stop" he says and oh yes, there is the same sound in his voice. No, this doesn't happen. Vampires and Slayers do not do this, it was bad enough with Angel but he was an outcast, his demon had a soul that ruled it. There is no soul inside Spike; the eyes that are beseeching me are only a human faade. I tug on his hair, his face is over mine, and I will say yes, stop; I am opening my mouth, but it is only to pull him down towards me, to touch my mouth to his own.

I slide my hands under his shirt, feeling his back, the cold play of skin over muscle. He is a not a man, he is a demon-I know that, but our bodies will fit together and I want them to. One of his hands is digging into my hip, the fingers spasming open and closed. Will I have a bruise there tomorrow? He mutters something into my mouth and pulls back a little. "Buffy"

That breaks the spell. I am always "Slayer" not "Buffy"-till now, till just-God, not even a week ago. He pushes back and grabs for his jacket, standing up and heading towards the back of the room. He turns to look at me when he gets to the door. He is vamped out and snarling. "What in the hell is going on? I figured that the curse would be me turning into the poof and being all self-righteous. I figured that would be the worst thing that could happen. But I can still kill people, I just can't kill *you*. Then I figured that maybe I had to be all noble and save you. Now this? Tell your Watcher to find some way to stop this or I'll kill him and everyone you love." His face shifts again, there is panic in his eyes. I know just how he feels.

Then he is gone. I gather up my things and slowly make my way back to the dorm room. Willow is still up when I get in. She's eating popcorn and watching t.v.

"Oh My God, Buffy!" She rushes over and asks me what happened.

I'm having some trouble with the curse. It's not about Angel, you see. It's about me. And Spike. Things aren't getting better, they're worse. Let's go wake Giles and talk this over. There's a way around this, right? Perhaps we can send someone to kill Spike. Perhaps now that I've been honest there is a spell that can end this.

My salvation is right in front of me. But that's how a curse works, isn't it? There's a way out, but I don't want it. I want what I shouldn't more. I am rushing headlong towards my own destruction. And I don't care.

"I'm o.k. I just need to get some sleep." I smile at her. I feel it curve my mouth, a false smile that hides the lies that rest inside me, the secrets I keep. I knew I was getting to be a good liar. This just proves it.

PART FIVE A

I think I have found my niche. If I ever get to stop being the Slayer, I'll be able to offer seminars in pseudo-conversations. I've gotten to be quite good at it.

First you tell yourself you're going somewhere for work. You *have* to do your job, after all. Then you sit and wait for the person you aren't expecting. Sometimes he's there already, which actually makes things worse. Does this mean he wants to see you too?

Then the fake conversation, which is mostly made up of awkward pauses. You sort of stammer around how you feel, cover it up with barbs. I've been called a bitch so much in the past week that the word has pretty much lost all meaning to me. It's easier than real conversation, you know. The exchange of witty one-liners, insults- both veiled and not so veiled. The real hints of what you are both thinking that come out once in a while: 'Heard from Dru?' or 'How is that sod Angel?' Occasionally, just 'Have you found something?' and the look away while you or he answers no, which means 'I haven't really been checking.'

This is how it is for me with Spike now. Truly horrible. And the worst part of all is that I think I am starting to look forward to seeing him at night, every night. I catch myself checking my hair after I've staked vamps-does it look ok? Debating what to wear, watching Willow look at me quizzically as I change clothes three times before I go out on patrol.

Actually, the worst part of it is the fights. It doesn't take much to goad him into one. He's far easier to deal with than Angel in that respect. Angel liked to brood. If he was mad, he'd store it up, it would come out in the strangest ways, in him disappearing for days at a time, in conversations that I could barely follow. When I make Spike mad, we just fight. I suppose it's sad that I find that easier.

Like I said, the worst part of it is the fights. Technically, I shouldn't even call them fights anymore. We're not really trying to kill each other, which is supposed to be what we do. We just sort of spar as an excuse to...God, how do I say this? Rolling around on the ground, I guess.

Angel and I never really fought, except when he was Angelus. We' d practice fighting-he'd pretend to show me something, stand behind me, wrap his arms around me. I'd practice pinning opponents so I could lean over him, imagine kissing him. Cheesy sort of romance novel blather. Pining looks and sighs and all that.

Spike and I really fight, like we've always done. Last night, I picked on him about Dru and Harmony till he lost it and lunged for me. I kicked him in the head, he punched me. We ended up brawling on top of a crypt till I'd banged his head into it. Both of us lying there, me panting, him doing whatever it is vamps do to pant, pressed against each other. Then the making out, which is just like fighting because both of us resent it, we fight to see whose tongue gets inside the other's mouth first, whose shirt gets pushed up first. Who pulls away first, and glares at the other person. It scares me when I think about, which is always afterwards, as I walk home. If so much of what I feel sexually is tied up in violence, what does that say about me? Will I ever be able to accept a normal relationship that's built on trust and caring?

But it's just the curse. I can feel my longings for something normal, something safe, buried under all this crap that the curse has laid on me.

I will see him at midnight. We've run into each other every night since that incident in the cemetery.

Listen to me! Incident. Since he tried to kill me. And couldn't.

We always meet in the same cemetery. It's the one closest to town, and it has the fewest vamps. Probably because most of the dead bodies now get buried elsewhere; the cemetery is full except for a few empty spaces in family plots. That way, he won't have to worry about vamps seeing him with me. And I won't have to worry about it either.

I'm running late, but I got stuck at the Bronze with Willow and Xander. Willow is stressed about school, and Xander...well, believe it or not, I think Xander might have an idea about what's going on. He ran into Spike when we were on patrol two days ago-he insisted on coming along even though I tried to get him to go home. I saw Spike first, and tried to give him some sort of signal, but he was too busy blathering to me, asking me if I'd gotten him his copy of the Weekly World News. The first night we met, after the uh...incident, we were talking about nothing in particular (hey, what else were we going to talk about-the curse?) and I mentioned the "Aliens Abduct President, Replace Him With Crockpot" headline. Turned out he'd read it. So he told me to bring him the newest issue.

"Did you bring it?" he'd called to me. He was sitting cross-legged on top of a crypt, trying to roll a cigarette. In talking with him, I've discovered that vamps have a lot of free time. I suppose it's the living forever and hiding out during the day bit. He'd told me he'd never mastered making his own cigarettes so I'd gotten him a packet of those little papers they sell. It's not a present, I told myself as I bought them. I just want to see him make an ass out of himself when he can't do it. And I was right, he couldn't do it, which made me laugh. Unfortunately, the smile he gave me when I gave them to him negated any of the lies I'd told myself.

Xander said "Buffy?" in a 'what the hell is Spike doing?' sort of tone. So I'd gone into my Slayer who kills vamps posture and made up some sort of big speech about how Spike was going to die. He'd started to laugh at me "What, did you practice that in the mirror? Wouldn't it be better to just..." and he'd trailed off as he saw Xander.

So we'd fought, and it was worse than those fights in low-budget Hong Kong movies. I swear, half of the punches we threw missed each other. Finally, Spike just got up and took off and I did a very half-assed version of chasing him. Then I came back and told Xander to go home, and that I'd look around some more.

Then I waited for Spike to come back and we read the Weekly World News and argued. He keeps telling me punk is the music of the future, and I keep telling him it's the music of 1982. So we fought for a while, and then I lunged for him-to give him a black eye to wear with that fake blond hair (sure, I can lay it on with a shovel, can't I?) but then somehow I ended up kissing him and I pulled away when I realized he was getting ready to unbutton my pants and I was going to let him.

Xander is giving me a look now. A "Buffy, is something going on look?" So I needle him about Anya, delicately, and drop a reminder of the curse. How I think that although it hasn't done anything bad (ha ha) it's made Spike screwier than usual. Xander nods, a relieved look slipping over his face. Willow interrupts with "Hey, I think Giles and I might have something to break it in a day or so. I'm just waiting for a shipment of newt's eyes to come in at the magic shop."

Great. Since all of Willow's incantations have been ragingly successful in stopping the curse so far, I'm sure this one will work. But I tell her "Sounds good!" and make up an excuse to leave.

I pass Riley on the way out. He's sitting at the bar, looking earnest. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a textbook with him. He just seems like that kind of guy. I also see Parker, nestled at a table in the back with yet another girl. He sees me looking at him and doesn't do anything. No wave, no nod, just a blink and then he turns his attention back to the girl he's with. Nice.

**

Spike is in the cemetery when I get there, smoking furiously, and fiddling with his coat. He does that a lot. Angel was very contained, very centered. But Spike is filled with a sort of frenetic energy, that truth to tell, matches my own. He throws something at me when I walk over to him.

I catch it and look down. It's a CD. Not an album, just a generic CD. "What is this?"

He sighs. "It's music. Listen to it later."

Music? "No cover? No nifty insert with the song lyrics?"

He gives me an offended look. "I made it"

"You made it?" Sure, and the moon is made of green cheese.

He looks away and makes a disgusted noise. "Fine. I uh...ran into someone earlier, and they were making CD's on their computer. I had him make me one."

"And then?"

He smiles at me, that chilly smile that I hate, that reminds me that he is, after all is said and done, Spike. "Then I ripped his throat out and stuck his body in his closet. Boy had bad taste in clothes, but I had to leave the body somewhere."

I close my eyes. This is the part I hate most. He's killed, he'll kill again. He murdered someone, drained their blood. That's what I am here to prevent. And yet, in spite of that, I'm standing here, holding something he's given me, wanting it, treasuring it. Knowing I will go home and listen to it and not think of the person he's killed. I'll think of him instead.

It makes me tired. Tired and angry. All I did was kill some nasty looking demon. All I've done is what I was told I have to do-be the Slayer, protect the world. Why do I always get complications?

Spike throws his cigarette away and walks over to me. He stands, staring down at me for a second. I can hear the thoughts in his brain, they mirror my own. Smart- ass comment, or seriousness? Reality or pretense? His hand reaches out, and I tense a little-he's dangerous, I know that, but still I lean towards him. And when his hand touches my face hesitantly, one cold finger tracing the curve of my cheek, I lean in more.

"I hate this" he tells me, and I nod. Boy, do I understand that.

"What are we going to do?" I think he's serious. Spike is harder to read than Angel, his emotions, whatever they are, are buried so deep that I sometimes wonder, in my more lucid moments, if he has any at all.

We won't fight tonight. We'll talk instead.

It's hard to talk to him face to face, so after several hesitant starts on both our parts we finally retreat and sit on opposite sides of a monument. I think it's for the Parker family. Seems fitting.

I tell him the truth, the whole truth, which I haven't managed to articulate to anyone except myself. That what I fear is a reproduction of what happened with Angel.

Nothing. For once, Spike is silent. The silence unnerves me so much that I finally turn around and look over the side of the monument, checking to see if he is still there. He's sitting, resting his hands on his knees. "So we have to..."

If he says shag, I'll stake him, curse or no curse. But he doesn't say it, just trails off and looks up, over at me. It alarms me after less than a week of spending time together as...what, friends? No, not that. Allies? No, not that either. I don't know what to call us. But he knows me well enough to know that I'd be looking at him.

And I hate the hurt I'm feeling. That even with the curse hanging over him, he can't even bring himself to utter what I will have to finish for him.

So I finish the sentence, lamely, searching for a word that will convey what we need to do without adding any emotion to it. I settle for a "yeah."

He stands up and moves away from me, pacing back and forth.

"You're right" he finally says.

My surprise my show on my face, because he laughs. "Oh come on, don't you think I've realized it too? It's all so bloody perfect, isn't it? I watched Angel moon over you-then he changed... and now..." he grimaces; I watch as the moon slips behind a cloud, casts a shadow over his face. "Now I know just how he felt. And I know you're right."

So then we just have to settle on the where. It's all so calculated that I feel nauseated. And excited, which is even worse. That I want to have sex with Spike- there, I've come right out and said it. That yes, even though I shouldn't, I know it will just lead to problems-what happened with Angel will happen again-afterwards, when I wrestle with all my uncertainties and fears, Spike will feel nothing but his usual desire to kill me and wreak havoc. But it will end this damned curse, we both know it will. As the demon said to me, before it died, "what you fear.." Yeah, this is it.

I refuse to meet him in any sort of smelly tunnel or dank lair which Spike is surprisingly understanding about. But of course, he knows what happened with Angel and realizes that I will not knowingly put myself in danger. Last night, he told me that was the one thing he liked about me. That I was smart enough to not do stupid things "all the time." Imagine that, a compliment from Spike. I told him he'd better watch it, or I'd start to think he liked me. He'd laughed-his hand was running down my torso then, stroking my stomach and watching the rise and fall of it as I breathed -and said "I'm not worried."

My room, either at home or at school is out too. I don't want any more cruddy memories to add onto the pile that already rests where I live.

"So where?" he asks, sounding frustrated. I laugh, because if I could close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else, with someone else, we could just be a regular couple, all torn by the fact that we have no place we can be alone.

I've got it. The perfect place, and I can bar the door afterwards, run home and get a stake. Then I can kill him before all the fallout hits. I just won't mention that to him.

Instead, I just say "The practice rooms"

He laughs. "Pet, I don't need practice."

That dumb-ass comment restores my equilibrium. This Spike is far easier to deal with than the earnest one I was facing not ten seconds before. His confusion and worry frighten me, it's too much to deal with.

The fine arts building has practice rooms for all the music majors. One of the girls who lives in my hall wants to play the flute professionally, and she's always practicing over in the music rooms. They are just little rooms, soundproofed so no one can hear the cacophony of all the people practicing at the same time, and best of all, they lock. Or at least, I can fix it so they will.

So we make an agreement. We'll meet at eleven tomorrow. I tell him "And we'll be done by what, three minutes after?"

He glares at me, and then his face relaxes. "What do you think?"

I can feel my body's response to what I know we'll be doing now. I think I know that it will be a while, but I won't tell him that. "Ok, five after" I say and he gives me a smile (I think he knows I like his smile, was I stupid enough to say something about that to him?) and walks off, calling out "Tomorrow, then"

Yep. I walk home, trying to ignore the pictures my brain is painting. Trying to ignore the little voice that says "You could have found another way out of this, you know." No, easier to make this a duty, a chore. Like brushing my teeth, or doing homework. Not something I'm thinking about, something I want.

PART FIVE B

How do you get ready for something like this? I've been as twitchy as scalded cat all day, distracted and jumpy. I may have gone to class, but I sure as hell don't remember anything that happened.

I called Giles, told him I needed him to go patrol for me tonight. "I've got a lot of studying to do."

Giles wants me to do well in school, he was pretty understanding. My hands were all sweaty when I hung up the phone. Willow went to see Oz, thank God, so I hung around our room, walking around in little circles. Pretending I wasn't watching the clock. I even did some homework, read three chapters of my history textbook. I couldn't tell you what I read at all, I can't even remember if I'm taking Introduction to U.S. History or Introduction to World History.

Finally, at ten-thirty, I get ready. Stake on the dresser by my bed, ready for afterwards. Makeup? No, not necessary. I put some on anyway. What to wear?

Embarrassing. How do you get dressed for this? What sort of outfit is appropriate for curse-ending sex? I finally get dressed frantically because a look at the clock tells me I need to be gone in less than ten minutes. How could time creep by so slowly earlier and so quickly now?

I'm out in the hallway. Walking down it, going outside. Over to the fine arts building. Part of me wants to run right past, just keep going and run. Run and run and then run some more. But I look down, there are my feet walking up the stairs, there are my feet walking inside.

And there's Spike, waiting inside. He's so twitchy I can hardly look at him. Someone passes us, walking down the hall, going outside. The sound of the door opening as the person walks outside.

We are still standing here, in the hallway. Spike looks like he is going to die. I guess I don't look too happy either, he makes a disgusted noise, opens a door and walks inside. He doesn't look back and after a moment, I follow.

I shut the door. Silence. It's very quiet in here, and even though I know there are other people in the building, I can't hear them. Can he? I ask him and he shrugs. "Not really."

Ugly green carpet. I trace a pattern on it with my toe. Now what?

**

We end up sitting on the floor, sort of staring at the wall behind each other's head. My hands are all sweaty again. "Now what?" he mutters.

I shrug. Very suave. Then finally, after the silence has stretched, and stretched some more, "I don't know."

He laughs. "Ah, if only the poof could see this." His grin is mean.

What would Angel say? God, I don't want to think about that. Then a horrible thought. When he had that damned ring he'd talked about Angelus, what he said about me. What if Angel talked about *all* of it? Who am I kidding with the what? "What did Angel say about me?" My voice cracks a little on the last word, and I brace myself for a barrage of esteem-defeating talk.

Spike is quiet. I look over at him, but he is looking over at the door. I wonder what he is thinking about. Does he feel as weird as I do about all of this?

"After he came back he talked about it" He must sense of my start of surprise, he looks at me and shrugs. "I was stuck in the stupid wheelchair, I couldn't do anything. And he and Dru.." he breaks off, his hands knot into fists, rest on his thighs. "I could hear them every night. And he was so cruel to her, and she loved him. Her precious Daddy." He laughs, but it's not a laugh, it's a bitter mockery. "He would sit with her, tell her about you, your skin, the way you felt, how it was nothing, how he wanted you to die. But he always blathered on and on, I always thought it was to make her hurt, so she would be even more enthralled with him."

Now I have to look at the wall. I can only imagine what he said, and it still hurts, even after all this time. "Why are you telling me this?" I say, and I'm proud of how I sound. Angry, not hurt. Never hurt.

He sighs and moves closer to me. Ah, I should get up and leave shouldn't I? And yet here I sit, waiting. "I always thought Angelus was over the edge about you...he always went about these elaborate plans to kill you..." he trails off.

I don't understand. He sees my look and sighs. "I'm going to end up like that, right? Obsessed. I don't want that, I don't want," he gestures around the room, at me. "this."

I roll my eyes at him, aggravated. "Are you sure you've had sex before? Because telling me all about how lame I am isn't really winning me over."

"But that's just it," he tells me, leaning over and resting his hands on my shoulders. "Even then, I thought about it, you. What else was I going to do, get up and walk away? I couldn't. So I listened. And I thought." His hands move down to the front of my shirt, the top button falls open, then another. He presses his hand against my collarbone. His mouth is next to my ear. "I thought about this. He talked about how warm human skin is, how warm you are." Another button opens, I can hear myself breathing, faster now. Is this seduction? If it is, why?

"I thought about this" he whispers. "Even back when I first saw you, so alive. What is it like? I can't even remember." His hands slide under my breasts, I can feel the cold through my bra. He pushes it up, no finesse there. So why am I shaking?

" I hate this curse" he mutters as his fingers slide up, over. "I've wanted to touch you." He sounds forlorn.

Before? Even back before that night with the demon that cursed us? I must say it, a whisper of sound. His jaw flexes, his eyes look down, I see the sweep of the lashes down, then back up. Did I think about it before?

"Yes" My answer, or his?

Does it matter?

It's hard to explain sex. Maybe when I've got more experience under my belt is will be easier. But I don't know about that, what sort of experiences do I have? One jackass of a human, one vampire with a soul, and Spike.

It was mostly just sensation before. With Angel, there was fear-everything had gone so wrong, and I was terrified. I loved him, and our future was so uncertain. With Parker, it was a chance to prove that I was normal, that I could have a real life. Both experiences didn't end really well, so whenever I think about them, it's always couched in the language of after, colored by all the pain I felt later.

Spike is cold. But it's ok, because I am burning. I try to think coherently. 'What time is it, I have to remember to break the lock on the door so he can't leave, the carpet is scratchy on my back.'

But it's all washed out, I can't think properly. I wanted this to be detached, a duty, something I'm doing to end a bad thing. The rueful smile he gives me when I can't unbutton his ugly red shirt at first, the noise he makes when I touch his chest, I'm drowning.

Angel was shy. He loved me, wanted me to feel safe. Nothing that frightened me, nothing to frighten me. Parker was a guy, just a guy. What we did was nice, but mostly what I remember was my continual thought of 'I'm being normal, it's good.'

Everything is all scattered and mixed up now. Spike's mouth on my throat, my breast, my stomach, the looks he gives me when I tug on his head, the way he ignores me when I try to close my legs. My surprised glance up at the ceiling as I come-the lights are on, why am I surprised? The look down afterwards, the sudden rush of pleasure to see his head between my thighs, his grin when he lifts his head up, the way I laugh when he says something about soundproofed rooms.

Finding out that he is pale everywhere. Vampire skin never sees the sun, but I didn't look with Angel. I kept my eyes closed, I was too busy worrying about the future we never had. But I know now; there is no future, I will have to look now and remember even though it will hurt later.

The look on his face when he pushes inside me, he is startled. His eyes close, what long lashes he has, they are beautiful, why did I never notice them? The keening noise I make when he starts to move, the way his mouth touches mine, the feel of his hands under me, over me.

The way he tells me, "It's not what I thought, it's better, it's better" and the bewilderment and fear I hear in his voice. The way my body wraps around his, I do not want to let him go, the startled feeling when I grasp this.

He says my name when he comes. I feel like crying, I think I am, and I can't describe what happens next, except that for just a minute, I am finally able to forget who I am, what I have to do, and the continual thought that always lies under that; why me, why do I have to be the Slayer? I didn't know that orgasms have little aftershocks, I didn't know I could feel my whole body tremble and pulse a little, then relax.

The utter bonelesness of contentment that hits you afterwards-with Angel, I slept, I was exhausted from all the angsty stuff we'd been through before. With Parker it was a fall into unconsciousness because I didn't want to analyze it all, I just wanted to feel proud of being just like other people. But now, I lie there, my hand on his spine, just breathing. The lights are still on and I stare at them in a daze.

He mutters something into my ear, I feel his mouth catch on my earlobe. Then he is asleep. He snores a little. I pull back a little, and look at his face, not even vulnerable in sleep. Those cheekbones are too etched, the eyebrows are too sharp. The mouth is too cruel, but it was touching me, it brought me joy. How can that be?

I pull away from him and get dressed slowly. I expect to see what we just did replay over and over again in my brain, but the image I keep as I leave the room is of him sleeping, one arm flung over his head, the gentle snoring, that damned red shirt under him.

**

So it's over. I feel sad and mopey, so I'm sure the curse is broken. And I didn't bend the doorknob so the door would jam and I could trap him while I ran home to get a stake. Instead, I'm heading over towards Giles' house. I'm sure I'll regret it tomorrow when I'm greeted with a snarling Spike, intent on killing me, or when it comes out that I've had sex with him. (Might as well not even lie to myself about the 'no one will find out' bit, right?)

Giles is still up, but I'm not surprised. He filled in for me tonight with the patrol duties, and it's not like he has to go to work tomorrow.

He looks a little surprised to see me, but not too much. "Patrol was fine" he tells me. "In fact, it was almost quiet tonight."

I make a non-committal noise and wander around his apartment for a little while. Giles hates that-he'd much rather I sit down and ask him questions about research, stuff like that. Mopey Buffy worries people.

"Do you want some tea?" he asks me.

Tea, bleagh. Colored water with stuff at the bottom of the mug. But it will give me something to do. "Sure."

He wanders off into his bachelor's kitchen to make tea and I wander around, gazing at the stacks of books he has lying out all around the apartment. Boring, moldering books. I suppose I could go back to my room and face my own pile of books-I'm pretty far behind on most of my classes now.

Instead I sit down and flip through the book that's on top of the nearest stack. "How's the quest for a curse-ending spell coming?" I call out.

He says something, but it's muffled by the sounds of his elaborate tea-making process. So I ignore him and start flipping through the pages. He's got post-its on a few pages, the scribbled notes let me know that they are 'Possible demons who attacked Buffy? Clues for stopping curse?'

It's nice that Giles cares so much, it really is. I look at the pictures he's marked; none of them are the demon I killed. I flip through the pages, slowly at first, then faster. It's like one of those little flip books, the kind that make movies. Little demons become big demons, become snarling monsters.

On page 462 is a really nasty looking demon. It has scales and fangs. Creepy. On page 235 is a demon that is actually kind of fluffy and cute. A closer look at the caption reveals that Giles has penciled in something about a publisher's misprint.

And on page 87 is my curse-giving demon. "Hey!" I call out. "I found a picture of it!." I look up and see that Giles is staring down at me, two mugs in hand. He hands one of them to me and takes the book away. "Really? I thought I showed you this book after you killed it. You said you didn't recognize any of them." His tone is faintly accusatory.

"That's because you showed me pictures from the back of the book. This demon was in the *front* of the book." So there.

He sits down and puts his glasses on. I watch him as he reads the gobbledygook that's under each picture as I take a sip of my tea. Uck. Like I said, colored water. "Do you have any sugar?"

Giles gives me a distracted nod and mutters "Kitchen." I go in the kitchen and look around for sugar. All I see is ten million boxes of tea bags and a container of old milk. I look in his refrigerator, just in case, but all he has is a container of mustard and an even older carton of milk.

When I wander back out into the living room, Giles is looking down at the book and chuckling. "Good news!" he says. "You don't need to worry about the curse anymore."

No shit. I sit back down and try another sip of the tea. Then I give up and put it down on the table.

Wait.

What? "How come?"

"There was no curse."

When my parents told me they were getting a divorce-they never actually told me. It just happened so gradually, the unraveling of their marriage, that it didn't need to be announced. But still, on the day I came home and found that my father had moved out, it was still a shock, I still felt sick. I knew it was coming, but to have it happen-so suddenly, the idea that my parents didn't really care what I thought, that they were going to break up anyway-it was bad, really bad.

I can remember how I sat with my mom that night as we ate dinner. Surface-wise, it was all normal. I think we had roast chicken. My mother talked about her day, told me to eat all my food and not push it around on my plate. I told her "What am I, three?" and looked over to where my father sat, waiting for him to make a joke about how he'd managed to mature into an adult without ever eating lima beans. But his chair was empty, and the surprise I felt when I saw it staggered me. That's how I feel now.

"What?" It comes out funny, a little high-pitched and squeaky. I look down at my hands, and they are still in front of me. But I feel like I shouldn't be here, like I need some sort of guide that will tell me exactly how I arrived at this point.

"The demon you killed couldn't curse you" Giles tells me.

But there was a curse, I heard it. And God knows, I've just been through a whole load of crap because of it. I think of Spike, as he was when I left. Sleeping on that horribly green carpet, his hands relaxed for once. The horribly trembly feeling I had-go on, go back, maybe the curse hasn't ended yet, one more time, it was even better than you'd thought it would be...--no, there was a curse. "I heard it" I tell Giles. "Remember?" Yes, remember, you looked concerned, made me look at pictures, told me you'd try to find something to stop it. You said something about it not five minutes ago. So don't tell me it wasn't real, because it was, because...

"Oh, the demon did utter a curse" he tells me. "But," (How can there be a but?) "and this is really interesting," (How can this be interesting, what are you saying? What have I done?) " the demon is fairly rare, as it only is created through a curse. It has no real powers, you see." And he nods at me, and I nod back dumbly. No, I don't see, no I don't really get this. There is a vampire asleep in somewhere on Sunnydale University's campus, I just did something I am not supposed to do with vampires with him, and I did it because I was cursed.

Giles gives me a suffering look. I must not have looked like I understand. "What the demon said to you was most likely the curse that created it. And since it was trapped, it said what it did to frighten you."

Ah ha! I've got him. "But if the curse created the demon, why wouldn't it work on me? It was the same curse, after all." Right? Right?

I don't usually argue with Giles about demon-y things, he looks a little surprised. "Well, no Buffy. In order for curses or to work, the person who says them has to have some sort of power. It's like if you tried to turn me into a demon. You couldn't do it, you don't have any skills in that area. It would be like if I told you to go outside and jump off the balcony. I could tell you to do it, but it wouldn't make you do it. That's why magic is magic. Not everyone can do it."

I want to faint. I want my vision to tunnel; I want to see little stars. I want that sensation of falling, of leaving the world. But it isn't happening, my vision is clear, my eyes are wide open. No one is going to say "Buffy, are you ok? You fainted, and you were out for a while." I won't be able to say 'I just had the weirdest dream, guess what happened?'

"But...then why was Spike..." Why? I've wanted to touch you Curse, all curse. Why else?

Giles looks thoughtful. "That's one of the more interesting aspects of all of this. The curse wasn't real, yet you and Spike both thought it was-after all, it was a real curse, there was just no power behind it. You say Spike has had trouble killing after the demon spoke to him?"

No, that's not true, just trouble killing me. No wait: yes, that's what I said. Oh, why was I so stupid? Why did I just layer lie on top of lie on top of lie? I make some sort of noise that sounds like a yes.

Giles launches into a talk. I try to pay attention, but stop after he mentions that sometimes being told that something will happen means that people go ahead and do what they want because they figure there will be no consequences, or because they figure that it's ok because they've been "told" they could do. A fake curse can give you a sort of permission apparently. "So maybe Spike is having some sort of conflict over Dru" Giles tells me. "Or maybe it's something else all together."

Maybe. And what's my excuse? Why did I...

He's still talking. I get up and walk towards the bathroom. It's a long way away, Giles is still talking. I go inside and close the door. I can still hear Giles, faintly, through the door. He is excited, talking about some sort of theory about demon behavior. I turn on the water to drown out his voice.

There's a mirror over his sink. It's a regular mirror, and I see a regular girl in it. Blond hair, average height. Regular clothes. Nothing to show what is wrong with me, nothing to show why I gave myself to a demon willingly, with no curse compelling me. Is it somewhere inside, then? I stare at my reflection till my eyes burn, till I see nothing but a blur in front of me.

Giles is knocking on the door, he sounds a little worried. I turn the water off and open the door. He asks me if I'm ok, and I tell him I feel a little tired, will he drive me home?

He says sure and we go outside and get in his car. He drives me back to school and I talk about all my homework on the way. I list all the assignments I need to do, all the papers I need to write. I tell him about the new shoes I got three weeks ago and haven't been able to wear because it's not cold enough. He starts to interrupt a few times, but I just keep talking. It's like that dinner. No pauses please, I don't want to see what's in front of me. I don't want to think

He stops the car outside my dorm and I start to get out of the car. "Buffy" he tells me. "I'm really glad the curse turned out to be nothing."

Now I think I might faint. I get out of the car, looking down at Giles. I blink a couple of times. Is that the outline of the music building in the distance? Is Spike still there? If I go back, and he is, then what?

"Yeah" I tell him. "Me too."

**

It's the clichs that cause trouble. A precise emotion seeks a precise expression.
If what I feel is not precise then should I call it love? It is so terrifying, love, that all I can do is shove it under a dump bin of pink cuddly toys and send myself a greeting card saying "Congratulations On Your Engagement." But I am not engaged. I am deeply distracted. I am desperately looking the other way so that love won't see me. I want the diluted version, the sloppy language, the insignificant gestures....they did it, my parents did it, now I will do it, won't I, arms outstretched, not to hold you, just to keep my balance...how happy we will be. How happy everyone will be. And they all lived happily ever after.

--from Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

THE END

Better Buffy Fiction Archive Entry

Achilles Heel