DISCLAIMER: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, and Fox Studios. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2000 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG.
Watch Me
by Djinn
The light was still on in the Magic Box but
the door wouldn't budge. She tried it again. Knock, her tired brain
said, knock. She really just wanted to break the lock but instead tapped
gently, then a little louder on the door.
"Just a moment," she heard faintly
from inside the shop, then the unmistakable sound of the lock being pulled back
and the door opened.
"Buffy?" Giles stood in the
doorway, blocking her way.
She resisted the urge to push him aside, just
said as sarcastically as possible, "Can I come in?"
His concerned expression changed instantly to
wariness. "Do you need me to say that?"
Her exhaustion turned to irritation. "Oh,
for God's sake, Giles. I'm not a vamp. Now get out of my way before I move you
out of my way."
"Yes, quite." He moved aside
hastily as she pushed past him. "This is a surprise. Come to train?"
"Um-huh." She nearly stomped her way
to the back room.
"Bad night?"
"You could say that."
He followed her in, standing silently and
pushing his glasses up absently, the way he always did, and the movement caused
her a momentary pang. So familiar. Next he'd cross his arms and look at her in
solemn concern. She'd never known Riley this well. Would never know him this
well. She dropped her purse at the edge of the mat and pulled off her sweater,
making sure her tank top didn't come with it. The punching bag was now Riley.
She landed several solid blows.
"I take it you don't want to talk about
it?"
She spun, her foot connecting to the bag with
a thud. Xander, now the bag was Xander. "Nope." She rained lightning
blows on the canvas, hit it until her hands hurt. Now it was Spike. Her feet
connected again and again making the bag fly.
"Okay then." Giles walked to the
doorway leading into the shop. "I'm just going to finish up out here. If
you need me..."
"I know where you are," she replied
without pausing from her workout.
"Right." He closed the door.
She felt tears threaten. Blinked them back
furiously. The bag didn't have to stand in for Giles at least—the only man in
her life she wasn't mad at. She took another swipe at the bag as she imagined
Angel's face on it. Why did he leave her? Five well placed punches and his face
disappeared. She stopped and the heavy bag swung back at her. She caught it
easily and stopped its motion without effort. "Angel," she whispered as
she hugged the bag tightly. "Angel."
##
Giles listened to the sounds from the other
room. Heard the rhythmic thumps stop and turn to dead silence. He agonized over
whether to go in to her. No. It was best
to let her get it out of her system. But his heart hurt as he turned back to
his account books to finish reconciling the day's till.
He was halfway done when the door opened.
Buffy stood in the doorway watching him. He glanced at her and could tell she'd
been crying, but her face now was expressionless.
How much more could she take? How much more would
the powers that be make her undergo?
"Buffy?"
"Is it me, Giles?"
"Is what you?"
She walked to the counter and faced him, the
worn wood between them. "Do I chase them away? Or destroy them
somehow?"
"Buffy..."
"No, I mean, look at Angel, he went all
the way to LA to get away from me."
Giles remembered the worrisome phone call he'd
received from Cordelia. He couldn't tell Buffy about that. She didn't need to
know yet that Angel might be returning to his evil ways. He wrenched his mind
back to what she was saying.
"And what about Scott or Parker? And
let's not even start on Riley." She looked at him. "Is it me?"
He shook his head. "No." He studied
the young woman in front of him. And she was a woman now. She'd been a girl when
he first met her, so full of enthusiasm, so energetic in her quest for life. He
compared that to the Buffy he saw before him. The woman who'd seen too much
life at such a young age. Or more accurately too much death.
He slipped the receipts and cash into a bank
bag. The books could wait until tomorrow. Shoving the bag into the secret
compartment under the cash register that Xander had built for him, he walked
around the counter to where she stood. "Let's sit for a bit, hmm?"
She let him lead her to the table and dropped
into a chair. He took the one next to it and turned it to face her.
"Buffy, I'm your watcher. I'm supposed
to give you answers and help you. But I can't help you with this. Not with
romance. Look at me? Am I any kind of role model for you in that?"
She smiled sadly. "I guess not. Why do
other people get to be happy?"
"I don't know. I've often wondered that
myself."
"Do you think I would have been happy
with Riley?"
He thought carefully before he answered.
"You might have been."
"That's not an answer, Giles."
"Yes it is. Because being happy, well
that's up to us, isn't it? If we find the right person we still may not be
happy. Sometimes it's easier to be happy with the wrong person. Because they
never challenge us."
"Riley didn't challenge me?" She
sighed heavily. "Why was everything so hard with him if he didn't
challenge me?"
"Things weren't hard with Angel?"
"No. I mean yes it was hard knowing he
was a vampire, and then when he turned, that was awful. And when he came back,
knowing we couldn't be together, that was horrible. But loving him? Loving him
was never anything but effortless. Loving Riley felt like something I thought I
should do."
"I see."
"But maybe that's what we're supposed to
want. The good man, the nice guy."
"Yes, well it's a bit of a cliché by now,
but nobody seems to want the nice guy."
He studied her as he spoke. Watched her
tension ease up a little and the life come back to her face. He was very
worried about her. Had been for some time. She was on the verge of darkness.
Not the demonic kind of darkness she feared she might descend to, the one Dracula had taunted her with. But the apathetic
darkness of not caring if she lived or died. He didn't want to lose her. The
world needed her, her friends needed her. He probably
needed her the most of all.
"Spike's in love with me."
"Good God." The words were out
before he could stop them. But of course, he realized, a lot of things suddenly
made sense. "How do you feel about that?"
"Giles, it's Spike."
"And..."
She ran her hand through her hair. "And
nothing. He's a vampire. I mean one without a soul. Unless you count the chip.
But we're not, counting the chip, I mean. And anyway, this is Spike we're
talking about."
"And you feel nothing for him?"
She pushed back in her chair and pulled up
her knees so she could wrap her arms around them. "I can't believe we're
having this conversation."
He sighed. What was the attraction she held
for vampires? And vice versa. He could see there was something there, something
she didn't want to face. "You're right. It's none of my business."
He began to rise. Her next words stopped him
short.
"Would it be wrong?"
"You mean Spike?"
"Yeah." Her tone was petulant and
defiant. She sounded like a lost child. Or like Faith. He wasn't sure which
image disturbed him more.
"I think that's up to you to
decide."
"That's such a watcher thing to say,
Giles. Can't you just tell me yes or no."
He smiled at her fondly. "No, Buffy. I
wish I could. But I can't." He got up and began to walk to the counter
then turned back to her. He knew his expression was one of distaste. "But
Spike? Really, Buffy."
She just laughed as she stood up and walked
back into the training room. Soon he heard the normal thwacks and thumps that
indicated she was feeling better.
##
Buffy took another deep breath. The air was
so much fresher at night. That was one of the reasons she'd turned down Giles'
offer to drive her home. She loved to walk. This was her town and walking it
let her know it was going to be fine, for at least one more night. Plus, how
would Spike follow her around if she were in a car? It would be so much harder
for him to keep up. She toyed with the idea of calling to him, putting an end
to this charade. But no. Better to let him think he was too stealthy for her.
Better to leave him in the shadows. She wasn't ready for anything else. And she
knew, deep down, that calling to him would be the end of this current phase
they were in. If she called him out, she'd have to kill him or love him. There
was no middle ground right now.
Just to annoy him she decided to run. She
loved the feeling of her own blood singing in her veins. Of the wind on her
face and the strength of her legs as they pounded the sidewalk. She listened
for him, could barely make out his slightly different steps. But he was keeping
up with her. Even Riley at his best couldn't keep up with her when she really
ran.
Laughing inside she turned it up a notch and
ran full out. He was still behind her. She slowed abruptly. God, what was she
doing? Was this some kind of test? She heard his footsteps slow behind her.
Not even breathing hard, she continued to
walk. Her house came in sight and she smiled. Her mom would be home tomorrow.
Dawn had been so excited. She was too young to be without a mother. Buffy
wasn't a good substitute, although she would have tried. She hoped Dawn was
asleep now. That Willow and Tara had worn her out with tales of spells and
glamours.
Her attention was wrenched suddenly back to
the here and now by the sound of footsteps coming up on her fast. She spun and
saw Spike approaching in that quick swaggering way he did so well. He stopped
in front of her and lit a cigarette.
"Evening, Summers."
"Spike." She crossed her arms over
her chest. "Lemme guess. Out for a stroll again?"
"Right on one." He took a deep drag
then blew some smoke rings. "Just thought I'd say hi, you know, since I
was in the neighborhood."
"How human of you."
He nodded as if in agreement with her
assessment. "So. How's your mum?"
"She's coming home tomorrow."
He smiled. A smile that seemed genuine.
"Really? That's great. So she's alright then?"
"Looks like." She heard the door
open on the porch. Turned to see Willow and Tara staring out, a surprised look
on their faces. "Hey, guys."
Willow found her voice first. "Hey,
Buffy. Spike."
"Red." He nodded to Tara.
"Tara."
She smiled back. Willow just looked
perplexed.
"Spike happened to be in the
neighborhood, but he was just leaving." Buffy turned to look at him.
Realized that it sounded like she was covering for him. Which she was, but not
for the reason they might think.
He gave her a smirk. "Yeah, I was just
leaving." He stubbed out his cigarette with his heel. As he passed her, he
said softly, "Night, doll."
She ignored him and the small spark of
excitement she felt, the one she always felt when she was around him. Of all
the people she knew; he made her feel the most alive. It was ironic—and deeply
screwed up. She bounded up the stairs to her waiting friends. "So is Dawn
asleep?"
As she turned to close the door, she saw him
across the street still watching her. Their eyes met and held for a moment
before she closed the door firmly on the night.
FIN