DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the slayerettes belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The writing style for this story is a departure from my usual style. I will not be telling you whose POV is in each chapter, unless it is necessary because of format. I'm sure you're smart enough to figure that out by yourselves. A big thanks to my beta Dirk who somehow manages to deal with my insanity.
FORMAT: For Chapters One through Three the format is as follows: Italics is used for emphasis and /// are flashbacks.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To slaymaster415[at]gmail.com
She Comes To Me In The Middle Of The Night
Chapter Three-Antithesis Part Two
As I sit on her bed, I look into her eyes and for the first time I wonder.
Who does she really see when she looks at me?
// / She's wet.
She's oh so wet.
I rise from my position between her legs.
She tastes so good!
I crawl up onto her, pulling her to me to place my leather-clad pant leg against her mound. I push harder against her, moving in a slow circular motion.
Her head is thrown back, eyes closed, red hair fanned out on the pillow.
She is so beautiful.
I never knew.
"Yes " she moans.
I gently squeeze her naked breasts, watching her nipples harden.
I am amazed at how tender I am being after the Hunt.
I pick up my pace, but it doesn't seem to satisfy her as she wiggles beneath me.
She opens her eyes; they are glazed over with desire.
A surge of heat rushes through me.
I bury three fingers deep inside her. As I pump them, my thumb reaches to her clit, torturing her with pleasure. She cries out and raises her hips to impale my hand.
A growl from deep inside rises to the surface in the knowledge that I am claiming my mate.
My other hand snakes her back, lifting her to me, holding her close.
I want her.
She's mine and no one else's.
"Oh God! Oh God!" she chants over and over.
My growl magnifies as I bring her neck to me and begin to suck hard. She screams, crying out my name in ecstasy as I feel her tighten and squeeze my fingers.
As she comes down from her high, I withdraw my fingers and cradle her. A feeling of incredible joy rushes through me knowing I had caused that.
She opens her eyes to look at me with such love I think my heart will burst.
She caresses my check and whispers, "I love you, Slayer." ///
I'm there, Willow.
In this memory Buffy is there too.
If I wondered who she saw when Willow looks at me, she makes it abundantly clear.
She launches into some babble about how Buffy the girl is: Buffy the girl is straight;
Buffy the girl only cares about clothes, boys, and make-up. Too innocent for this little tryst she and the Slayer have been having.
That girl no longer exists.
Buffy the popular conceited cheerleader left the moment she saw her first vampire and realized that there really are monsters hiding under your bed.
I stare at her in hurt. Is this why she thinks I can't love her like the beast inside of me?
Her eyes widen in surprise at my reaction.
A question from my lips pops out unbidden.
I have to know.
"Do you love me Willow?"
She responds after a moment. "Of course I love you, Buffy. You're my best friend."
"Willow, that's not what I mean."
She avoids my eyes. What is she hiding? Or maybe what is she hiding from herself and from the Slayer?
"Do you have romantic feelings towards me?"
She briefly glances at me and I see guilt and fear written all over her face.
I have my answer.
The Slayer is howling inside me, but I hold her back.
"The Slayer is the one who kills, Buffy, not you."
It was Buffy the girl who lost all her friends.
It was Buffy the girl who sat by in shame and remorse as her first watcher died in her arms.
It was Buffy the girl who chose to go and save the people in the gym that night.
It was Buffy the girl that night who killed just as much as the Slayer.
I AM NOT AN INNOCENT!
I yell this at her, and the Slayer breaks through, angry with me for making Willow cry.
Can't say I'm thrilled with myself either.
The Slayer is pushing me down, down, down
Everything is black.
Giles calls me into his office, and gives me the look of shame.
"Willow was in here earlier, crying."
He sees the contrition on my face, and I see the judgment in his eyes.
Suddenly my anger rises.
"Giles, what am I supposed to say? She's making decisions about me without even finding out what I want."
I hang my head.
"She thinks she knows me so well. I'm not the same person I was a year ago, Giles. I'm more than a shallow girl with a beast inside of her."
My head pops up as I cross my arms and scowl in defiance in any refute he decides to throw my way.
He knocks me for a loop by smiling. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear and see."
He sees the confusion on my face as my pose starts to falter.
"And in this instance this is what will save you."
He's found a ritual.
A complicated ritual.
Is there any other kind?
A ritual that requires strength of character and true knowledge of oneself.
Why can't he just say it?
A ritual that requires me to be stubborn.
Apparently I have this in spades.
Should be easy right?
Yes, that was sarcasm.
I have to make certain sacrifices.
And I have to make more sacrifices than the Slayer!
I go off on poor Giles over this.
I scream at him about what I have already lost and sacrificed ever since I was Called.
She doesn't have to sacrifice much of anything apparently.
"Are you quite through?"
My fists are tight by my sides, and I have the urge to stomp my feet.
How old are we again?
Giles shoots me a glare that would make my mother proud. Maybe Giles has kids he hasn't told us about?
Giles tells me that the only things that will change will be my level of feelings for
Willow, and a different state of consciousness.
Whatever the fuck that means.
"It means Buffy that any primal instincts that already exist within you will be heightened, but these will also be tempered by your humanity. And you will also no longer have the option of ...um male companionship."
He cleans his glasses furiously.
"You must make a decision, but know this: the Slayer considers Willow to be her Mate, which you must accept."
The subtext is clear.
The Slayer will never give up Willow.
And Willow will never give up the Slayer.
Why can't it be dark right now?
I need to kill some vamps. I need to beat something up.
And no, this isn't the Slayer inside of me.
This is Buffy.
I can't get near Angel anymore.
He has to frequently change his hiding place. She is on the Hunt for him, and I know she will dust him the moment she sees him.
I think both of us knew it was only a matter of time anyways. Maybe it's better that this situation has forced us to break up. Angel's right; a vampire slayer and a vampire together is against all reason.
And when it comes down to it that is who we really are.
Angel and Buffy never really stood a chance
Xander corners me in the courtyard.
Of course I'm the Slayer. I can easily push him away, but I feel so tired. So I let him spout off.
"You're killing her."
I yell at him that it is none of his business.
I feel his breath as he inches closer and closer to my face. "Willow is my soul, Buffy.
She's what kept me going in this god forsaken town. Whatever is going on with you, get over it. She deserves to be treated better than that."
"Like you're one to talk!" I scream at him
He gives me a venomous look and storms off.
Tears of frustration threaten to roll down my face. I glance around the busy courtyard to see if anyone has noticed.
No one has.
Just like always.
It's been three days.
Xander's words haunt me.
As does the thought that I have lost my two best friends.
I'm over it.
I'm not about to lose Xander too.
I wave him over into the library.
We smile sheepishly at each other. I see the remorse in his eyes and I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Willow won't tell me much. Well, anything. Want to tell me your side of the story?"
And I do.
"I think you should it."
Xander is actually serious. I didn't realize that he has a resolve face.
I had been afraid of his reaction; a hormonal teenage boy with fantasies filling his head was not something I needed. But when Xander wants to, he can be insightful. I somehow feel that if he can't have me, he would rather lose me to Willow instead of to Angel.
"Seriously, Buff. G-man's right. Not much is really gonna change."
I gape at him like he has two heads.
"I am mated to Willow for god's sakes! I will be having sex with Willow!"
A goofy grin passes his face, which he hides quickly by coughing. I officially revoke my earlier statement. Is it too much to ask that he keep his mind out of his pants for two minutes?
"Look, just take the whole you and Willow thing slow."
The Slayer is obsessed with Willow, and he expects us to take it slow?!
"Willow will understand that. Trust me."
I want to; I really, really do
I am shamed by his next words.
"Just remember one thing; whatever you decide, it affects Willow too."
Giles hasn't breached that subject, and as usual I'm so lost in how something affects me that I forget how things affect others.
"Whether you want to admit it or not, you know who Buffy Summers is; the good and the bad. Just don't lose sight of that and you'll be fine."
He nudges me. "After all, we all know how stubborn you can be." He winks and walks away from me.
Leaving me to ponder the wisdom of a sixteen year-old boy.
Who are you, Buffy Summers?
I am not the kinda gal who likes to reflect. I leave that to people who do not have a life expectancy so short they are happy just to be able to make it to their next birthday.
My association with Merrick was along the lines of him trying to get me to face up to my destiny and teach me how to fight. He died before we got into any deep conversation about how Buffy the girl and the slayer co-exist or whatever.
Not that I would have listened.
Giles has tried unsuccessfully of course time and again to sit me down to discuss this very topic.
I brush him off, roll my eyes, and make it abundantly clear I have no interest in the subject.
I'm always complaining about the curse of being the Chosen One and losing any semblance of young adulthood.
Is this a way to end the constant struggle between my needs and hers?
Is it possible for us to become one person without each persona losing her true self, or must one half always lose out?
Do I really have to choose to be either Buffy or the Slayer?
There is still a part of me that will always love shopping, dancing, make-up, and ice skating.
This is quintessential Buffy.
But the shallow vindictive side has been replaced; instead, there exists a person who is genuinely kind, loyal to her friends, and loving.
Did I become this person because of the Slayer, or because of what I have seen.
My mind drifts through what I've seen in the past year.
I should retract that.
I've seen hell.
But so has the Slayer.
I sit up and take notice at this musing.
It is her.
I wander in the courtyard aimlessly.
That's when I see it.
"Hi, I'm Buffy."
"Why? I-I mean, hi! Uh, did you want me to move?"
I never want you to move Willow.
I have my answer.
I may have the Slayer's strength, speed, and healing powers, but she has given me a better gift.
I now care.
More than just about me.
I have come to a decision.
He gages my sincerity and nods. "All right Buffy, I will talk to Willow at lunch. You will have full control by this afternoon."
I smile my thanks as the tears roll down my cheek.
It's time to let go.
I steel my resolve and step into the mansion.
Angel is at my side in a flash, his game face on display.
I feel her stirring. I am confident she will not surface in his presence; a promise to Willow is something she would never break.
Angel shakes away his demon, and holds out his arms.
I fall into his embrace for what will be the last time.
As we let go, I see the sadness and the resignation on his face. And I hear myself say the word I never thought I would say.
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