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Changing Hearts Series - Letting Go -- by Ruby
Rating: PG-13
Description: Willow begins to move on, sequel to Healing Wounds.
Note: Spoilers -- Wild at Heart, The Initiative.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
Willow hesitated in front of the door, her fist in mid-air, poised to knock. She squeaked and stepped back as the door suddenly swung open.
Spike grinned down at the little redhead "Coming in? Or are you just inspecting the fine woodwork on my front--"
"How long have you known I've been standing here?" she asked, mildly annoyed.
"I've been watching," he confessed gesturing toward the window.
"Oh," she replied and shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "Got a minute? I mean, if you don't, that's okay. I can just--"
"Pet, I've got centuries. C'mon in," he stepped back and reached for her hand to usher her inside.
She followed him into the living room, where he sat down and picked up a mug from the table beside his chair. He looked disgustedly at its contents before downing it quickly.
"I hate this," he said and put the mug back. "Sorry, luv. You probably didn't want to see that."
"It's okay," she grinned and sank down onto the sofa across from him. "Actually, I just came to ask you a question."
"You can't have it back," he told her.
"What?" her confused eyes darted over to him.
"The picture. If you came to ask for it, you can't have it back."
"Oh. No, I wasn't going to...I mean, I don't want it back."
"Good," he smiled.
"You do still have it though, right?" she asked, suddenly worried. "You haven't--"
"I still have it," he promised. "Ask away, then. Whatever you want."
"You don't know the question, yet," she cautioned him.
He slid slightly forward in his chair and pierced her with his eyes, "Well, I would if you'd ask it."
"Right. It's probably a stupid idea, anyway. You don't have to say yes if you don't want to--"
"Willow, ask!" he demanded.
She nodded apologetically and took a breath, "There's a concert, an open-air concert, on campus tonight, and Buffy said she doesn't need us to help her patrol. So, I wondered if maybe you'd like to--"
Her eyes dropped away from him, and he reached over to brush his fingers over hers, "Go with you?"
"I told you it was a stupid idea. I mean, listening to an orchestra is probably the last thing you want to do. I just couldn't stand the idea of another night all alone in that dorm room, and I was whining to Buffy about it, and then, for some reason, she made a big deal about not needing us tonight, and I--" she sighed and stood up. "Never mind. I shouldn't even have--"
"I'll go," he said softly, standing up and curling his hand around hers to prevent her stepping away.
Her green eyes glittered up at him, "You will?"
"A beautiful woman shows up on my doorstep to ask me to come out and listen to music under the stars? I'd be a fool to refuse."
She blushed uncomfortably and looked away from him again, "You're nice."
One corner of his mouth quirked upward, "That's a new one."
She laughed softly and quickly added, "In a demonic sort of way."
"Much better," he chuckled.
Spike had chosen a grassy spot under a tree well away from the rest of the audience. The soft strains of Pachelbel drifted across the lawn, but in truth, he was much more captivated by the redhead's quiet conversation. He looked over at her as she rested her head against the trunk of the tree, eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed.
"Tired?" he asked, leaning back next to her, his shoulder just pressing against hers.
"Mmmm, it's nice," she answered contentedly, then opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him.
"Are you bored out of your mind?"
He smiled and shook his head, "What were you thinking, just now?"
"How perfect this evening is, and how glad I am that you agreed to share it with me," she answered, then blushed softly as she realized what she'd said.
He'd been concerned she was brooding over her wolf, again, and his smile widened a bit at her confession that she'd been thinking of him.
"I'm glad, too," he said.
"Spike?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you," she said softly.
"For what, pet?"
"For everything," she answered. "For letting me tell you things I can't tell anyone else. I don't know why it's so easy to talk to you. Maybe because you know what it feels like to have to let go when you don't really want to."
"And are you? Letting go?" he asked.
"It's getting easier," she told him. "Because of you."
"Willow, I don't want this to be about me. You have to let go for yourself, because you want to, or--"
"That's what I'm trying to say," she responded. "You help me see that. Everyone else just tiptoes around it or treats me like an emotional invalid. I know they only do that because they care about me, and they don't like to see me hurting. But it doesn't help, much. You make me look at it, head-on, and deal with it, deal with the pain and the anger and the frustration. Even when I don't want to. Even when I'd rather crawl into a hole and pull it in over me."
She leaned closer against him and rested her hand over his.
"It's scary sometimes, you know? Like walking a tightrope without a net. I want to let go, but I'm worried I'll fall, and he won't be there to catch me," she paused and smiled softly, "And now you're going to tell me I shouldn't need anyone to catch me."
He returned the smile and placed his other hand over hers, "You're much stronger than you give yourself credit for, pet."
"But people aren't normally solitary creatures," she pointed out. "Sometimes, we need to know someone will be there if we fall, even if it's just so we can show that someone our bruises."
"I'd do that for you," he said quietly.
Her eyes met his, and she nodded, "I believe you would."
He squeezed her hand and shifted a little to allow her head to rest against his shoulder. They listened to the music in comfortable silence for a few minutes until he bent his head to speak next to her ear.
"You say it's getting easier. Care to prove that, ducks?"
"How?" she asked.
"Let go, just a little. Let me tear up that picture."
She lapsed back into silence, considering his request. "You won't fall, luv," he prodded. "And even if you do, I'll help you back up."
She tilted her head to look up into his eyes, "Promise?"
"On my unlife," he grinned slightly.
"Okay," she whipsered.
"Tear it up?" he asked hopefully.
"Tear it up," she agreed.
The End
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