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In the Library -- by Luisa
Rating: G
Description: Willow is doing research in the library when someone comes for a visit.
Note: Dedication- To Willow and Spike, for being such great characters.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon.
Part One
For the first time in her life, Willow found herself in the library to do something other than research. Well, she was here to do a kind of research, just not on the usual, repellent topics...and that alone made for a pleasant change. She frowned a little as she unpacked the laptop her parents had given her for her birthday. It was brand-new, it was shiny, it was gorgeous. She remembered her outburst of sheer joy on discovering it in her room. Her mother and father stood at the door, watching her. Her mother had tried hard to hide her emotion behind a brisk and lively exterior, but Willow had seen through it. She had been undeniably moved...and so had her father. <They do love me...> She desperately wanted them to. She needed to believe that they were there for her. Even if they never were.
The house was always so empty and silent...it was no home. And eating her meals on a tray while eagerly turning on the computer for some sort of virtual comfort was no life. She knew that, Xander and Buffy knew it too. Buffy had often tried to get her to talk to her parents about it, but she had been adamant on the subject. It was her business and nobody else's. Not even her friends. Somehow the whole situation humiliated her and she preferred to push it into the back of her mind while drowning herself in school-work and relentless research under Giles' distracted supervision.
As a consequence, she had deep shadows under her gentle green eyes, which looked bigger than ever in her small, ghostly face. She kept falling asleep during the interminable research sessions imposed by their duty as the Slayer's co-workers and friends. And every time she felt Giles' hand tapping her on the shoulder or softly stroking her hair, she immediately sat up straight, unwilling to show any signs of weakness. Even though she was exhausted.
Tonight she had the whole library to herself. There were no life-threatening monsters or prophecies to deal with. Willow was free to do what she liked. Buffy had unwillingly gone home after having accompanied
her there and made sure she had her holy water and stake with her.
"Willow, I don't think this is such a good idea. I mean...can't you study at home like everybody else?"
"No, not this time. I need to check out some books. The Internet is not much of a help on this topic and, you know, the library is usually the place to come to when you have a paper due." Her voice had sounded
tired with just a slight tinge of impatience to it. Buffy had noticed it and given her a searching look. But then she had shrugged resignedly and smiled, pressing Willow's hand and turning to go. No doubt looking forward to going home and welcoming her father, who had come all the way from New York just to see her.
" One more thing...call me when you're ready to leave and I'll come over and take you home."
"Sure. But I'll probably stay here for a long time...I haven't even thought of an introduction to the paper yet..."
"You work too hard, girl..." And with this last remark, she left.
Part Two
She was surrounded by silence in the library. And even though she had more than enough of it at home, she welcomed it here. It soothed her to be alone. She was tired of people's inquisitive glances and friendly concern.
<I'm much too private for my own good.>, she thought dejectedly. <Oh well.>
She began to look through some notes she had brought with her from home. They were scribbled in an almost illegible hand. Willow was the only one who could understand it. She smiled to herself when she remembered Xander's frustration on being unable to decipher a note she had left taped to his locker.
"I looked for you everywhere! Where were you?"
"I left you a note saying I was leaving early. You didn't see it?"
"I couldn't read it! It could have been written in hieroglyphics for all I cared. Next time use capitals, OK?"
She had been slightly surprised at Xander's use of the words "hieroglyphics"... or "capitals" for that matter, but she had come to know her friend well. He was not as ignorant or unintelligent as he sometimes pretended to be. He just suffered from bouts of insecurity. She could hear it in his voice at times. It was then that she longed to throw her arms around his neck and reassure him. But all she did was give him an encouraging half-smile. She had to be careful not to betray herself. It was hard enough having to fight down the desire to mother him. Buffy had mocked this tendency in her character more than once.
"You gotta be careful, Will, or you'll have Xander banging on your door every time he grazes his knee."
"Oh Buffy...do you think he notices? I already know how he feels about the whole thing and I do try to keep things light, but it's so...painful. I don't think I'll ever get over this."
"You have to, Will. You deserve better. Trust me, Willow, someone's gonna come along and sweep you off your feet. Very soon."
<Yeah right...>
She suddenly noticed that there was a book she needed from one of the shelves upstairs.
<OK, Willow, let's go.>
Rising from her chair, she moved towards the staircase and went up, step by weary step.
Part Three
She was looking at the somewhat faded titles on the dusty bookshelves when a faint sound reached her from the left. It sounded like a floorboard creaking. She looked away from the books in a swift, frightened
movement. Her heart started pounding and her whole body trembled. But that didn't stop her from slowly walking to the left side of the upper level after a brief hesitation. She was careful not to make any sounds that might betray her presence. Her weapons were downstairs, on the table.
<Oh God...oh God...oh God...>
As she was about to turn into one of the many shadowy rows in the library, an arm shot out from the darkness and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her a few inches above the floor while a strong, cold hand clamped itself firmly over her mouth. Someone whispered into her ear.
"Shhhhhh..."
Whether from the long hours of mental effort or from the fact that she had skipped dinner, Willow's brain decided to shut down at that precise moment. She fainted.
Part Four
Spike was dumbfounded. He had expected her to be scared out of her wits, but this was a little too much. He held Willow's limp body in his arms and leaned against the shelves for a few minutes. He didn't know what to do. Looking down at her eerily pale face, he wrinkled his forehead in thought and murmured softly, "What have you been doing to yourself, luv? You look half-dead. Or undead, for that matter..."
He then proceeded to walk down the stairs, carrying the feather-light girl and carefully laying her down on the table from which he had removed all the books and papers with an energetic, almost violent movement of his left arm. Then he stopped.
<I need a cigarette.> Taking out a brand-new packet, he lit himself one and calmly took a drag, exhaling the smoke. This made him feel in control again.
He sat on the edge of the long table and gazed at Willow for a moment. He had returned to Sunnydale because of her. He had gone away with a light heart that had been slowly filled up with almost frighteningly deep feelings for the girl. And though he had struggled against them, thought he had reasoned with himself over and over again, the fact was...he needed her. To live. Or better, to keep existing. If he looked back to when he had first talked to her (or rather, threatened her), he could recognize the beginnings of his passionate longing for the little redhead. He had given quite a performance at the time. Shouting at her, bullying her, making her cry...he deserved an Oscar for it. During the whole time his heart whispered the truth. But he wouldn't listen to it. He had Drusilla to obsess about. Later on, he loathed himself for his behavior towards her back then. She looked so fragile...like a crushed flower. Everything about her was soft and pure. How could he have ever contemplated hurting someone like her?
<If the Slayer came in right now aiming a stake at me, I'd let her do me in. Bloody hell, I'd do it for her!>
His expression was quite different from that of the old Spike. Gone was the arrogance that had etched itself in every feature of his face and gone was the ruthlessness that had made his eyes glow cobalt whenever he was thwarted. Six months in a wheelchair had taken their toll and Drusilla´s callous betrayal (he should really use the plural here) had done the rest.
He had changed...and if Willow would only try to love him back a little, he'd be a totally different...what? <Human being?> A somewhat sarcastic voice asked inside his head. <Let's stick to creature, OK?> He retorted sharply.
From the corner of his eye, he saw that Willow was stirring. He heard her moan softly and, jumping from his place on the table, he was at her side in a flash.
Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked unseeingly for a few seconds. Then she turned her head and looked into the worried blue eyes that hovered above her face. Spike had the shock of his unlife when he saw tears streaming down her cheeks in an avalanche of long-suppressed emotion. She was speechless with tiredness, melancholy, tension and a couple of other feelings she couldn't quite put her finger on. She sobbed and sobbed, as lost and alone as a needle in a haystack.
Propping her up with his right arm, Spike put his left one around her and hugged her closely. He said nothing for he didn't know what to say. He let his body speak for him. It didn't disappoint him. She calmed down after a while and breathed in deeply, letting out the air in a long, quiet sigh. She felt empty.
"So...you're back.", she whispered shakily a few seconds later.
"Yes, I'm back. For you."
For some strange reason, this didn't surprise her. She didn't feel scared and she didn't try to get away from him. <Maybe I've lost the ability to feel anything.> But even while this thought formed itself in her mind, she knew it wasn't true. Spike didn't move either. The joy of having her in his arms without violence of any sort was enough to make him wish this moment would last forever. She felt warm and alive...human. He smoothed back the wet strands of hair from her face and rested his head against hers. His face was beautiful in the darkness. White marble carved out in a quiet, peaceful expression.
Part Five
They stayed like this for hours. They didn't speak another word. It took all of Willow's energy to break the embrace. Her heart was in her eyes as she looked at him. <What now...> she thought. She knew she'd do anything he asked of her. If he asked her to leave Sunnydale, she would do it and never look back. Her heart would break at the thought of leaving her family and friends...but she would do it. It didn't cross Spike's mind to ask her to leave with him. He wouldn't do that to her. She needed her friends almost as much as she needed him. And if being with Willow meant staying in Sunnydale, then he'd do it. There would be no second thoughts.
As they gazed at each other, a current of mutual understanding passed between them, bringing them together in a long, passionate kiss that sealed their bond. They were holding each other so close that it was hard to tell where one began and the other one ended. They broke the kiss at the same time, but didn't let go. Spike slid off the table in a supple movement and helped Willow, circling her waist with his arm. He smiled at her boyishly and for a moment he seemed to have recovered some of his old cockiness.
They leisurely moved towards the door and walked out. All was quiet in the library once again.
The End
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