disclaimer in part 1
Cordelia sat at a table in the Student Lounge sipping a Coke, not really aware of anything going on around her. She stared off into space calmly as if she had just been given some sort of tranquilizer. In a way she had- her boyfriend was in love with someone else. If that didn't shatter your ego, what would?
God, what did she have to do to make him love her? She'd agreed to be seen with him in public, she'd helped out his friends when they were in trouble, god she had let him do things to her that she hadn't even let Devon or Mitch attempt- and what did she get for her trouble? He was in love with Willow- good old, best friend, quiet, mousy Willow. Why? I mean not to bring down Willow, Cordelia had in fact begrudgingly come to like her. But what did Willow have that she didn't?
Look at her sitting up there all alone in her wheelchair- she looks upset herself. I guess this had to be a big blow to her as well. I mean, wasn't it so obvious to everyone that she was in love with Oz? Obviously not to Xander, or perhaps he would have kept his mouth shut. Didn't he know what it would do to her to know that he loved her when she had so been in love with him for like, ever? How clueless could he be?
She thought about it, and concluded that he could be very clueless, in fact he was king of the idiots! She got so mad thinking about it- she needed to vent her frustrations! Where was Buffy when you needed her? She looked over at Oz, thinking perhaps she could speak to him. No, he was too likely having homicidal tendencies toward Xander at this moment, better not even mention his name. She looked up at Willow again, deciding that Xander had made them both miserable, yet again, and well, misery loved company.
She stood and walked toward the area where Willow sat. She tapped the other girl lightly on the shoulder and asked, "Want to talk about it?"
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Willow felt as if a bookshelf had just fallen on her... again. And that was pretty bad. She was so... confused. But mostly she just felt rotten. God, how could he? What a jerk! She couldn't believe she had been in love with him for so long. How could he do this to her? And to Cordelia, and to Oz? Wasn't he ever happy with the way things were?
First they had been friends, and she had given him all her attention, but that hadn't been good enough, and when Buffy came along, he had double the attention, but half the time. She had felt very neglected, because he wanted to spend more and more time with Buffy, which of course wasn't Buffy's fault, since she had no such feelings toward Xander. But it had really hurt. Then, last summer, they had pretty much been alone together, and it had been wonderful. She thought he had been about to put his Buffy fixation away and give her a chance, but no she had been wrong again.
And let's not forget about the idiot's actual girlfriend. Cordy hadn't looked too pleased about the information which she had obviously overheard she and Xander discussing. God help her, she was psyched to see Cordelia punch Xander in the face. What was he doing? She had Oz, he had Cordy, why couldn't he ever leave things the way they were? He always wanted what he couldn't have, first Buffy, then Cordelia, and now... me?
She had to admit, part of her was actually the tiniest bit happy. Not that she would have wanted this to happen, but she was glad Xander was getting a taste of his own medicine for once- god he made her so angry!
It was at precisely that moment that Cordelia tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "Want to talk about it?" Willow thought about it for a minute. She wasn't mad at Cordelia, and Cordy was obviously as upset as she was. Yes, a Xander bitch session might well be in order. "Yeah, okay.", she said. Cordelia grasped the handles of the wheelchair and headed off down the hall in the direction of the library with Willow. They needed privacy for this converstion, and Giles would leave them alone if they asked. Yeah, thought Willow, this may be just what the doctor ordered...
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Joyce Summers sat on the couch of her home, willing the phone to ring, and sipping the whiskey in her hand. What had she done? She felt like she had completely betrayed the daughter that she loved so much. She had failed as a parent, and as a human being. She felt like hell, worse than hell if possible.
She took the note out of her pocket and read it over for what seemed like the millionth time:
Dear Mom,
I know you don't understand what's going on in my life and I don't
exactly blame you. I did just dump it on you and run. But I had something I had to do, and it wouldn't wait for me to explain to you. Saving the world is like that.
I know the past 2 years have been hard for you, and believe me they've
never been exactly peachy for me either. I know you didn't mean it when you said I could never come home- you're too good a mother and a person to ever mean something like that. You love me, I know that, and that's why I couldn't leave without saying I love you, too.
But what happened tonight has made me think about things. Things that
have happened to me, and that I've done, both to you and dad, and to so many
others I've hurt in the process of doing my duty. I realize that I seem to get an excuse for hurting the people I love the most just because I'm the chosen one. And I don't want it anymore. I don't want the excuses, or the duties anymore if it means hurting my family and friends. I need to go away for a while. To think about what I've done, but more importantly, to let you think about what I've done, about what I am, and give you time
to accept it. Just remember, I love you, and none of this is your fault. It's mine, and I need time to accept it myself.
Love, Buffy
Joyce stared at the note in her hand, written in her daughter's overlarge script. And for the fiftieth time that day, she thought about how proud she was of Buffy. She was so mature, so strong in her convictions and commitments. She was everything Joyce had ever asked or wanted for her daughter. And how had she repaid that? She blinked as the tears began to fall on the piece of paper in her hand. What had she done?
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Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she sat in Spike's speeding car. She looked over at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking. Okay, she understood he wanted Dru back, but to help her, twice? Something was definately up.
She spoke hesitantly. "So why is it that you're helping me again?"
"Because I made a deal, and I am going to stick with it."
"You do remember that you're the bad guy here, right?"
"Well, let's just say I'm tired of being the bad guy." He smiled at her again. He was doing that way too often these days. She didn't like it. She gave him her best "I don't believe one word you're saying" look. He laughed, and continued to smile before speaking.
"Okay, okay, fine. I do have a reason for helping you. But it's not what you think."
"And what do I think?"
"That somehow, this is all a trap, and I'm just setting you up for the fall."
"Good guess. Well, if that's not why you're helping, then what's the deal?" He smiled again- this was getting annoying. She practically growled at him. He laughed again, and decided to answer.
"Well, if I tell you, will you promise to keep it our little secret?"
"Maybe, depends on what it is."
"Fair enough. Well, let's just say that when your friend tried the soul-restoration the first time, it wasn't unsucessful."
"What, you mean, you... how?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, cutie, but I figure it had something to do with Dru bursting in at just the right moment, just when the spell was about to kick in. I guess she saw Dru and wondered if I was far behind. She must have thought of me just long enough for the spell to bring back my soul instead of Angel's."
"No way!" exclaimed Buffy.
"Yeah, but let's do keep this under wraps, ducks. I have a reputaion to protect, if you know what I mean, and if this got out I'm afraid some, especially Dru, wouldn't take too kindly to it. I probably wouldn't be around much longer to help you, if you catch my drift." He smirked at the look on her face.
Buffy shook her head- really this was too much! Spike with a soul?