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FF: NKA part 5
Disclaimer: The Buffy characters belong to Joss...the Voyager characters
belong to Paramount...none of them belong to me...unfortunately.:-)
Chapter 5
Buffy?s argument with Willow gnawed at her like a sore tooth all the way to
Willie?s bar...and by the time she got there, she was about ready to kill
someone...or something. Flinging open the door, she barreled inside
leveling her icy blue eyes on the undead denizens of the bar. They took one
look at the pissed off Slayer, and cleared their tables, edging out past her
and through the door. If she hadn?t been so consumned with her anger, she
might?ve thought the rapid clearing of
the place was funny. But all she could think now was that even the
creatures of the night didn?t want to be around her...not that she could
blame them any.
Willow?s words to her had stung, partly because she felt they had a ring of
truth to them, but she supposed she deserved it for the things she had said
to her.
?Great, Slayer. Once again, you scare away my customers.? Willie
complained, starting to wipe up his bar with a dirty washrag. Buffy glared
at him as she sauntered up to the bar. ?Shut up and
give me a beer, Willie.? She sighed, grimacing in disgust as she sat down
on a dirty stool. She had given up drinking beer since the ?Cave Slayer?
incident, but the moment seemed to call for it, so she decided she?d deal
with any possible consequences later.
?Are you sure your old enough to drink?? Willie questioned her
suspiciously. The blue eyes lifted to glare menacingly into his and he
gulped noticeably. ?Right...one beer for the Slayer, coming up.? He
hurriedly poured the requested beverage from the tap and handed over the
foamy liquid to the Slayer, watching wide-eyed as she drank it down in
several large gulps.
?Again.? The glass hit the counter with a loud thump, as she requested a
refill. This one was filled and drank in the same manner, and the Slayer
requested a third one. She didn?t guzzle this one down though, simply
staring at the amber liquid as if she were searching for the meaning of life
in the tiny bubbles.
?What?s the matter, Slayer? You look like somebody ate your puppy.? Spike,
who had just come out of the men?s room and noticed the rather depressed
Slayer sitting at the bar and decided to have some fun with her.
Buffy growled at the sound of his voice, closed her eyes and counted to
three, hoping that when she opened them again he?d be gone...but he was just
sitting on the stool next to her, grinning like a mad Englishman. ?What do
you want Spike?? She asked, a less than tolerant tone to her voice.
?I just couldn?t help but notice how terrible you look. An unhappy Slayer
is a dead Slayer...I should know, that?s how I got to two of them.? Spike
let a predatory grin flash across his face. ?I just wanted to know how I
could help.?
A sardonic look passed over the Slayer?s eyes. ?Yeah, right.? She answered
shortly.
?All right, then. Just don?t say I didn?t warn you when you feel the life
being drained from your neck.? Spike replied, getting up from the stool.
?Just sit here and wallow in your own self-pity. It?s worked wonders for
me.? He dropped a crinkled bill on the bar, and watched in slight amusement
as Willie snatched it up and put it in his register...it wasn?t often that
his customers were paying, after all.
Buffy watched Spike as he walked out the door and disappeared into the
darkness beyond, then she shook her head. ?Idiot.? She muttered under her
breath, before taking another sip from the bubbling brew.
She sat there quietly, trying not to think, period, when the song that
played on the juke box in the corner captured her attention, and she groaned
at the slow sad quality to the tune.
I still remember the night we met.
You said you loved my smile.
But your love for me was like a summer breeze.
Oh, it lasted for a while.
I could hold on a little tighter I know.
But when you love someone,
you?ve gotta let ?em go.
?Ugh...Country. Don?t tell me your regulars are Country/Western fans.?
Buffy said, grimacing at the emotions the words she heard evoked.
?What can I say? They love all forms of human suffering.? Willie grinned.
Buffy raised a pale eyebrow at that, but she didn?t answer, listening to the
tune on the juke box intrigued.
So, I?m gonna smile.
Cause I want to make you happy.
Laugh, so you can?t see me cry.
I?m gonna let you go in style.
Even if it kills me.
I?m gonna smile.
Would it kill her, Buffy wondered to herself, to pretend to be happy for
Willow. Did she really have to hurt her by actively disliking Tara without
even revealing the reason why? This guy seemed to have the right idea.
Kiss me once for the good times baby.
Kiss me twice for good bye.
You can?t help how you don?t feel.
And it doesn?t matter why.
Give me a chance to bow out gracefully.
Cause that?s how I want you to remember me.
She wondered to herself what it would hurt if she went back and told Willow
the truth, apologizing for her previous behavior first, of course. She
didn?t expect Willow to return the feelings, in fact, she doubted that the
Wiccan would, but it might be their only chance to clear the air between
them, and then Buffy could possibly let go as gracefully as the guy in the
song did.
On the courage built on three beers and a song, Buffy got up from the stool,
swaying slightly as the blood rushed to her head for a beer induced moment,
before ambling nonchalantly out of the bar. Willie watched until the
slightly inebrieated Slayer was out of sight, then shook his head muttering
quietly to himself about crazy Slayers before he turned his attention back
to cleaning up the bar.
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