Getting Over It

“You look a little pale, Will. You feelin’ ok?” Buffy asked her quiet friend as they made their way to her watcher’s place.

Was she feeling ok?! Of course she wasn’t feeling ok! She was losing her freaking mind! Ever since Oz left, she had been on an emotional rollercoaster that had jumped the tracks and was heading straight for a brick wall. Yesterday, she had made out with Spike in Giles’ kitchen, like some kind of tramp, worse a vamp tramp! But Goddess help her, it was all she had been able to think about since. Something in his eyes, his touch, she could feel herself falling and it was scaring the hell out of her. She couldn’t take another heartbreak, not after Oz, but Spike just wouldn’t leave her head.

Then last night, she had the most erotic dream of her life, involving the gorgeous blonde vamp, and roses. She had done things to him that she could only have imagined in her darkest fantasies. When she woke the next morning she found a fresh bite on her throat, and panicked. Her hand wandered again to the scarf tied firmly around her neck, in an unconscious gesture to cover her misdeeds. She thought it had only been a dream, and yet she was carrying his mark, now she didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t make sense of it anymore, she just knew that something had to give, or she was going to break.

“Will? Willow? Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were ok.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, without a second thought.

As they descendee ste stairs to Giles’ courtyard, they saw his neighbor, fussing over her rose bushes and ranting to herself. Willow felt her blood run cold as they drew nearer, and saw that somebody had hacked them to pieces, leaving only stubs behind. Flashes of her dream floated back to her. Roses, there had been roses. Buffy, of course, found the whole thing highly amusing. Maybe now she wouldn’t have to listen to the old bat go on and on about her ‘prize winning’ flowers, every time she went past. She worked hard to suppress a giggle as she traipsed in the door, eager to share the amusing news, Willow wandering numbly behind her. But they both stopped short as they entered, to find Giles holding Spike by the throat.

“I swear; I knew you were a sick bastard, but I never thought you could stoop to such depravity! Now, I want to know how you got out of your bloody shackles!” Giles was screaming, the veins in his neck popping out like he was about to have an aneurism.

“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘mate’,” Spike replied with barely controlled rage.

Buffy pulled Giles back, while casually slipping a stake out of her pocket. She eyed both men carefully for a moment, then turning to her mentor and friend, she calmly asked for an explanation. Giles shuffled his feet awkwardly, turning slightly red, before he began.

“I have reason to believe Spike got free last night, and…and…molested me,” his voice trailed off toward the end, so that it was barely audible, his embarrassment almost a tangible thing now. He pulled his glasses off and began cleaning them furiously, not wanting to see the looks on their faces.

“And you call me the sick bastard?! I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole! Not even to get this bloody chip out of my head!” Spike yelled incredulously. Then, turning to Buffy, said “I think the old watcher is going senile, slayer. I was chained up in the tub all night, just ask him.”

“Giles, you know I don’t need an excuse to stake him, all you have to do is say the word,” she offered, grasping her stake harder.

“Wait Buffy, if he says he was locked up, maybe he was,” Willow chimed in, knowing she was somehow involved in this but unsure how. “I mean, maybe it was just a dream, Giles. A bad dream.”

“You call this a dream?” he asked, holding up the black choker, his rage once again bubbling to the surface, “I found it tied to my John Thomas this morning!”

Buffy grabbed the small velvet object from Giles’ hand and turned to face the redhead.

“Willow, it’s yours!”

Suddenly something seemed to snap in the room. The feeling of Willow’s world breaking apart, hit her like a wave crashing against the shore. They were all looking at her. Buffy with confusion, Giles with shame, and Spike, Spike looked at her like something had finally clicked into place. Her mouth had tasted different the last time they kissed, and now he knew why.

Giles had no warning as her unholy lover seemingly flew through the air and landed on top of him. Spike’s face was a mask of rage and pain as he began beating the watcher senseless, all the while being tortured by the chip. She was his! He had done everything she wanted. Allowed her to dominate him, humiliate him, and all the while she was carrying on with the bloody librarian. He didn’t care if the chip fried every last brain cell, in fact he welcomed it. He wanted to forget everything that bitch had done to him, pai pain in his head not even comparing to his feeling of betrayal.

Buffy, stunned overoverwhelmed by the situation, didn’t react at first, but soon recovered herself and pulled the raging vamp off her watcher, pinning him to the floor with a stake to his chest. He squirmed uncomfortably, but didn’t resist too much, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to plunge it into his heart.

“Giles are you alright?” she called out. Then, seeing him nod and start to sit up, his face bruised and bloodied, she turned expectant eyes on Willow. “Okay, Will, what the hell is going on here?”

“I’m sorry,” sobbeobbed, slumping to the ground, “I don’t know what’s happening, I just know it’s my fault. Buffy, please don’t kill Spike, please!”

The defeated redhead curled herself into the fetal position, and began to wail helplessly, overcome by the flood of emotions that were flowing out of her. Whatever rage or humiliation there had been in the room before was replaced with pity. Giles swooped the shaking girl off the floor and into his strong arms, carrying her up to his bed, ignoring the low growl coming from Spike. Buffy followed close behind, and sat with her friend while Giles went to the kitchen to make the redhead a strong cup of tea, and fix himself a stiff drink.

Glancing over at his captive and assailant, he couldn’t help but notice the look of loss and concern on his face. Sighing, he poured another large brandy, and handed it over to the vampire, who gave him a surprised, but grateful look in return. It was obvious to the watcher as he headed back upstairs with the tea, that he wasn’t the only victim in this matter.

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It was hours before Willow had recovered enough to speak to Giles about what had happened, and even then, she still couldn’t look at him, choosing instead to focus on the lamp by his bed. She had been staring at it for some time while she tried to explain things, and now every time she closed her eyes, she could see a large white spot where the light had been.

“Willow? Willow, I asked you when this started.” Giles repeated softly, still feeling somewhat embarrassed himself.

“I don’t know, a couple weeks ago, I guess. Everyone kept telling me to get over Oz, and I thought if I just did a little confidence spell, maybe it would be easier to get on with things, you know? So I borrowed one of your books, and did the spell, but I guess I did something wrong.”

Giles sat patiently, rubbing his temples and listening to all she had to say, periodically removing his glasses and rubbing them furiously during the parts involving Spike. After the day he had had, it was a wonder he hadn’t rubbed a hole in them already. Willow didn’t say so, but he felt sure she was the one responsible for the things happening to him as well, such as the sudden dreams, and his little surprise that morning. When she said something had gone wrong with the spell, she was making the understatement of the decade in his opinion. Once she was through, he bit back the lecture he had planned to give her on the dangers of magic, seeing the look of total remorse on her face, and went downstairs to research instead.

Buffy, who had waited with Spike while the pair talked upstairs, did her best to ignore the pacing vampire who was getting on her very last nerve. She wanted to be up there with Willow, but Giles thought it would be best if they spoke alone. She eyed Spike warily, wanting to believe this was his fault somehow, but knowing instinctively it wasn’t. She watched as he constantly glanced up to where the redhead had been taken, his longing almost tangible. She didn’t like that look. Whatever his involvement was in all this, it ended here.

“Listen, death breath, I don’t know how you’re mixed up in this, but whatever’s been going on between you and Willow stops now,” Buffy told him with deadly calm, twirling the stake in her hand to be sure he got her point.

“Whatever, slayer. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s not like the little witch is gonna want to have anything to do with me now anyway,” he said with some sense of defeat, realizing his fiery goddess had been acting under a spell the whole time.

He had truly been a fool, falling for the tiny mortal, who would never even have given him the time of day if she had been in her right mind. He was feeling sorry for himself and desperately wanted to kill something to help shake off the sensation. How was it that women always had so much power over him? First Cecily, then Dru, and now Red. Still, as much as he wanted to slink off somewhere and drown his miseries in blood and whiskey, he couldn’t leave until he knew his Red was okay. ‘His’ Red, that was a joke; she would never be ‘his’ now. He continued to pace, mourning his loss, when the watcher descended the stairs, drawing Spike’s attention, as he made his way to one of the book shelves.

Giles pulled out a large tome from the collection, and began flipping through the pages, until he found what he was looking for. A soft clucking sound escaped his mouth as he shook his head with the realization of what had happened. Buffy moved towards him, to inquire about his discovery, but he waved her away and began making a list of ingredients for the counter spell. Then, handing her the slip of paper, and some money, he sent her off to the magic shop and headed back upstairs to Willow. Book in hand as he went, both watcher and slayer had forgotten all about the undead houseguest wearing a hole in the living room rug. Spike took the opportunity to creep silently halfway up the stairs so he could better eavesdrop on their conversation.

“, th, the good news is I believe I’ve discovered what went wrong, and have sent Buffy to get some things so we can reverse the spell.”

“What’s the bad news?” Willow inquired, feeling sure she didn’t want to know the answer.

“Well, I’m not sure how to put this, but the force…the uh…other personality you thought was taking over your body, it was you.”

“What?! No, Giles, that’s not possible. I mean those things I dreamed I did with Spike, to him, and you,” both of them suddenly glanced at the floor, their embarrassment returning, before she continued, “I would never, ‘could’ never do those things!”

“I know, but the fact remains that you did. The spell you cast was only supposed to give you a slight confidence boost, so you could act on your feelings with a little more freedom. But with your emotions running so high after Oz left, the spell became much more intense, if you will, causing all your hidden desires to manifest themselves into an uncontrollable force.”

“But if that’s true, then how come I can’t remember more than half of what I’ve done?”

“Well, you probably blocked it out. I don’t quite understand all the details yet, but I feel confident that I can remedy the situation.”

Spike couldn’t believe his ears, so the little one had been acting on her darkest impulses all along. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

To be continued…