The Gift, Take Two

Title: The Gift, Take Two - Chapter 13: Milkshake and Tears
Email: Dafmeister@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse is owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox and a bunch of other people who aren't me. No infringement of copyright is intended blah blah blah...
Distribution: In no particular order, Faithfanfiction.net, Mystic Muse, Shades Of Grey, Slayer's Fanfic Archive, A Sorta Fairytale, Oralfxatn, Wicked & Divine, many mailing lists and anyone else who asks me first.
Rating: R for violence, language and other fun stuff
Timing: End of Season 5
Feedback: Yes please, it really helps keep my morale up when my muse is being difficult.
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of Season 5
Summary: Do the old wounds every really heal?
Author's notes: Huge thanks to Kaz, beta extraordinaire, to Leila, my friend and sounding board, and to Notty, who helped me knock this story back into shape.

*****

"My God, that's a lot of shake!" Tara's voice conveyed a mix of astonishment and horror as she stared at the enormous chocolatey concoction the waitress had just set on the table in front of Dawn.

The teenager giggled, stirring the brown liquid with the straw. "Are you sure Willow's okay?" she asked, looking over toward the bathrooms. "She's been in there ages."

Tara took a sip of her iced mocha, relishing the chill after the August sun and followed Dawn's gaze, her expression shifting to one of tolerant amusement. "She'll be fine. She knows she can't handle three mochas in one morning, but she just can't help herself."

Dawn couldn't help smiling at the flash of pure adoration in Tara's eyes as she talked about her girlfriend. A sudden thought flashed across her mind. How come I'm okay with that? Why didn't the monks make me homophobic? You'd think they'd hate the idea of two women in love. With a mental shrug, she tossed the question aside, knowing she'd never get an answer. "So, what's it like living with Willow's parents?"

"Not what I expected. I mean, her dad barely notices us at all, a-and her mom treats me like some kind of counter-culture icon." Tara looked bemused for a moment, before her faced melted into a smile. "But it's worth it."

"And Mom hasn't tried to burn either of us at the stake yet." Willow said from behind them, enjoying a moment of uncharitable pleasure as the two at the table started in surprise. "Which is progress."

As Willow slipped into the vacant chair at the table, Tara leaned over for a welcoming kiss. She blushed as she noticed Dawn smiling at them. "I'm sorry, we'll be good now."

"Don't you dare!" Dawn replied, her smile widening. "I've really missed seeing you guys together."

"Yeah, we have been kinda absent lately." Willow said, sheepishly.

"It's okay, you guys deserve some alone time after what Glory did to you." Because of me. Dawn fought down the spark of guilt and forced a mischievous grin onto her face. "Just so long as you remember to put clothes on once in a while."

"Dawnie!" The two witches protested simultaneously. "We're not... we don't... it's not like..."

Dawn burst out laughing as their faces burned. "Methinks the ladies protest too much!"

"Anyway," Willow said forcefully, "how're things at Slayer Central?"

"Kinda weird. Living with Faith, it's... it's taking some getting used to."

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"Well, for one thing, morning person. It's not like she wakes Buffy and me up, but she's always awake ages before us, and way too perky for that time of the morning, even when she's been out patrolling 'til God knows when." Dawn shuddered at the thought. "And the doors! She never shuts her bedroom door, not even when she's changing. I mean, she closes it a little, it's not like it's wide open, but still..."

"Dawnie," Willow asked, her face mock-serious, "have you been peeking? 'Cause we've talked about this..."

"What! No, no!" Dawn blurted out. "No, God, that's... I mean, it's not like I have a problem with, you know, I mean I love you guys, and I think you're great together and more power to you, but no, still liking the boys here!"

Tara and Willow made an effort to control their amusement at Dawn's babbling, but couldn't keep themselves from laughing. "What was that you said about protesting too much?" Willow got out between giggles. Dawn glared for a moment, then she too began laughing.

Willow was the first to regain her self-control. "So, has Faith told you what the open-door policy's for?

"No, she hasn't said anything." Dawn answered. "Me and Buffy have talked about it, but we haven't asked her yet."

"Maybe she's just trying to be open?" Tara suggested.

"Can't get much more open than Faith." muttered Willow.

Tara ignored the interruption and continued, "I mean, maybe she's just trying to show she isn't hiding anything?"

Dawn considered the idea. "Could be. The best idea I could come up with was that she just hates closed doors. You know, after being in prison and all. But I don't get why she'd do it. I mean, it's not like we're monitoring her all the time, demanding to know where she's been and what she's been doing."

"I know, sweetie, but she might feel like she has to prove something." Tara said. "I'm sure she just wants you to feel comfortable with her around.

"Yeah, I know, it's just taking some time. I mean, I was just getting used to it just being me and Buffy, and now there're three of us in the house again, like when Mom was alive, but not." Dawn's face clearly showed her sorrow. "Sometimes I'm glad, 'cause it's not so quiet any more, but sometimes it just reminds me that she's not there, you know?"

Willow immediately wrapped her young friend into tight hug, while Tara took Dawn's hand in both of hers and squeezed comfortingly.

After a few moments, the embrace broke and the three girls separated, Dawn wiping tears from her eyes. "Thanks, guys."

Willow seemed reassured, but Tara caught something in Dawn's demeanour that bothered her. "Dawnie, is something wrong? S-something else, I mean?"

For a second, Dawn was ready to deny it, but the look of honest, open concern on Tara's face broke down her reservations. "I don't know... it's Buffy and Faith."

"What about them?" Willow asked, rather more sharply than she had intended, immediately on edge. I knew something would go wrong, I knew it!

Dawn, distracted by her worries, missed both the cutting tone of Willow's question and Tara's warning glance to her girlfriend. "I don't know, something changed a couple of months ago, after you guys took out those demons in the warehouse. I mean sometimes they're fine, great even, laughing together... you remember how Buffy was when she got the letter to say she had been re-admitted to college? It's like that, and then other times it's... it's almost like when Mom and Dad were getting divorced. They both get really quiet, barely even talking to each other, and at the same time they're both going out of their way to be nice to me."

Tara's heart ached at the distress in Dawn's voice. "Do you have any idea what's upset them?"

"No. And I don't think Faith does either. It's like she's as confused as me about it!"

In the absence of any real information, Tara went for raw optimism. "I'm sure they'll be okay, Dawn. Remember, they've got a lot of history, but they'll work it out."

"D'you think?"

"Absolutely." Tara glanced over at Willow, hoping for some support, but the redhead stayed silent."

Dawn managed a watery smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She gulped down the rest of her milkshake. "C'mon, we don't want to miss the movie."

As they gathered their things together, Tara quickly whispered in Willow's ear. "I could've used some help there."

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't lie to her."

*****

The music stopped. Faith rolled over on the bed and saw Buffy standing by the door, her finger on the 'Stop' button of her stereo.

"Thought I'd stop by."

Faith sat up, a cocky grin on her face. "Is he dead yet?"

"He's not going to die." Buffy replied, her voice cold. "It was a good try, though. Your plan?"

"Uh-huh. The Mayor got me the poison. Said it was wicked painful." Faith got off the bed and stood facing her enemy.

"There's a cure."

"Damn. What is it?"

"Your blood." Buffy felt a surge of vengeful joy as she saw Faith's mask slip for a moment, surprise and fear showing on her face. "As justice goes, it's not un-poetic, don't you think?"

Faith began stalking forward, closing the distance between them. "Come to get me? You gonna feed me to Angel? You know you're not going to take me alive."

"Not a problem."

Faith smiled, almost glad that it had finally come to this. "Well, look at you. All dressed up in big sister's clothes."

"You told me I was just like you." Buffy advanced into the middle of the room, and the two girls began circling each other slowly. "That I was holding it in."

"Ready to cut loose?"

"Try me."

"Okay then." Faith stopped, less than a yard from her adversary, the air around them practically crackling with barely suppressed energy. "Give us a kiss."

Buffy jerked upright, struggling frantically to free herself from her bonds, until she realised that it was just her covers that had become tangled around her. Breathing heavily, she lay back and tried to drive the nightmare away.

It didn't work. Shortly after three in the morning, Buffy gave up and began pulling on her clothes. Around her, the house felt claustrophobic.

At the top of the stairs, Buffy paused, then silently moved the few feet to Faith's door.

The younger Slayer was lying on her side, facing the window. Even asleep her body seemed tense, a tension Buffy recognised growing in herself. For a few heartbeats, Buffy just stood there watching. Then she turned and crept down the stairs.

As she heard the front door close, Faith opened her eyes. After a moment, she reached out to the bedside table and picked up the stuffed panther Dawn had given her. Clutching it tightly, she pulled the covers around her and tried to sleep.

*****

The gravestones had a cold gleam in the moonlight. Branches rustled quietly in the night breeze, which carried a faint tang in from the sea. Beyond that, the cemetery was silent but for her own footsteps.

"Haven't seen you 'round here for a while, luv. Something up?" Buffy jumped as Spike sauntered out of the shadow of a crypt right behind her, smirking as he lit up a cigarette.

"You ought to know better than to sneak up on people with weapons!" Buffy snapped in reply, brandishing her stake to emphasise the point.

Spike just laughed. "Actually, I'm surprised I managed it. What's the matter, Slayer? Mind not on the job?" When the blonde just turned and began to walk away, his demeanour changed. "Buffy!"

She stopped and turned to face him again. The smirk and swagger were gone, replaced with worry. "I mean it. If you're distracted, you shouldn't be out here. There're plenty of things that'd just love to take a bite out of you, and right know you wouldn't even see them coming."

"Things like you, for instance?" Buffy regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, hating herself as she watched Spike recoil from her as though she'd slapped him. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair."

"You're damn right it wasn't!" Spike snarled. "Listen, Slayer, I know you've had a tough time of it the last year, but I've had it with being your whipping boy!"

"Spike, please... I'm sorry for what I said, and I'm sorry I've been avoiding you lately. You deserve better after everything you done for me." Buffy sat down on a gravestone, unable to meet his gaze. Suddenly, she gave a bitter laugh. "God, who'd have thought I'd actually care that I hurt your feelings?"

Spike's anger melted as he saw tears gleaming in the moonlight. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't even know any more." Buffy stared up at the moon, the tears coming more freely now. "I don't understand this. It felt like everything was great, and nothing's changed, but now everything hurts."

Spike perched beside her on the gravestone, silent.

"I forget about Mom." The girl's voice was flooded with guilt. "That can't be right, can it? It's only been six months! I live in her house, I sleep in her room, in her bed, and I can go days without thinking about her! What sort of person am I if I can do that?"

"Buffy..."

She ploughed on, barely even aware that he'd spoken. "And Faith! God, I owe her so much... I thought I was past everything she'd done, I should be, but..." For the first time she looked Spike in the eye. "Sometimes, I see her, and the first thing I think is 'Murderer!' And in that moment, I hate her. I hate what she did to me."

"Do you hate me like that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You never betrayed me." Buffy cut Spike off as he was about to protest. "Adam doesn't count, I had no right to expect loyalty from you then."

"So she betrayed you, and you wanted her dead."

"Worse." Buffy's voice dropped to a whisper. "I wanted to kill her." The tears flowed faster. She didn't resist as Spike put his arms around her and held her as she wept.

Eventually, the sobbing slowed and stopped. Spike gently released his hold and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from Buffy's face. "Feeling better?"

"Kinda. Thanks."

"Any time. Look, what you said about loyalty... you know you have it now, right?"

Buffy nodded. "When did you turn into someone I could talk to?" she asked, smiling faintly at him as she wiped the tears away.

"Not a bloody clue, luv. Still can't quite believe it's happened." Spike stood up and smoothed out the back of his coat.

"You were right." Buffy's voice was almost a whisper. "What you said to me, at the house, before we went after Glory. I don't think I'll ever love you."

Spike looked away, the words hurting even though he had already said them himself. "I know."

"Sometimes I wish I did." Spike looked back at her in surprise. "I know you'd always be there for me, and for Dawn."

Spike just nodded, unable to speak.

Buffy got off the gravestone and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I don't love you, but I do trust you, Spike."

"Well, that's something." Spike turned his face away from her, hiding the tears.

"Look, I'm going to go visit Mom's grave." She reached out and took his hand. "Walk with me?"

Spike gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "As my lady wishes."

As they walked off into the darkness, Buffy said, "Remember the old days, when things were simple? I wanted to kill you, you wanted to kill me, Mom still thought I was a delinquent... you ever miss that?"

"No. You had this really annoying habit of beating the crap out of me, remember?"

*****

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Roger Wyndham-Pryce said, gazing at collection of weapons in the display case. "The burial horde of Raedwald, King of the East Saxons. You can say whatever you like about our pagan ancestors, but they certainly knew how to give their leaders a good send-off."

"Yes, sir." Julian Graves replied. "I trust you are aware that the identification of Raedwald as the occupant of the grave is at most an educated guess?"

"That's quite correct, Mr. Graves. And completely irrelevant to our meeting." Wyndham-Pryce turned from the display and began walking briskly through the galleries of the British Museum. "I have discussed the issue of the two Slayers with several of our esteemed colleagues, and they agree that there is cause for concern. However, they will require more definite information about the situation in California before they will be willing to act. Can you arrange for some discrete surveillance?"

"I've already made the arrangements, sir. One of our regular intelligence-gathering units is scheduled to go on leave in two weeks. I can easily re-direct them to Sunnydale and ensure that their reports come to me personally."

"Good. Contact me as soon as you have any information."