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Spike and the gang were sitting at the Magic Box. He couldn’t get his mind off the past few days, and something was bothering him. He needed to tell them.


“I have something you guys won’t want to hear,” Spike began nervously.


“What is it?” Willow asked, as the whole gang furrowed their brows in worry.


Spike couldn’t reply immediately. He knew this wasn’t going to end well…


“I…,” Spike started, as he faced them with hesitation.


They were all getting worried. Spike usually said whatever he wanted with utmost bluntness. Hesitation was a sign of something bad.


“Dear God, just tell us before we all have ulcers,” Xander demanded.


“IthinkI’minlovewithBuffy,” Spike said with closed eyes.


A moment paused.


“We already knew,” Giles replied calmly.


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Spike jolted up in a frantic gasp. ‘What the fuck!!!’ He turned in all directions panicking, until he realized he was in his bed. Gasping for unnecessary air, his jumbling thoughts cleared, as he realized it was only a dream. And then panic rose up in him again. ‘I don’t love Buffy! Why the fuck did I dream that!?!’


Suddenly, ‘only a dream’ was not good enough for him. He didn’t want to believe he even just dreamt that. Throwing off the covers and getting up, he clutched his head and pulled on his hair in frustration. Pacing around his room, he tried to FORCE the thoughts out of him – the dream, the idea of it, Buffy…


Finally, he stopped pacing. There was only one answer: get completely toasted.


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Buffy had a good night’s sleep. Spending yesterday with Dawn and mom was just what she needed. In her pitiful situation, she clung to whatever tidbits she got, including Spike’s remark of trust in her.


It was completely ridiculous actually, that she cared THAT much about something Spike said. It was just Spike. Mooning over Drusilla, pitifully-chipped Spike. But Buffy knew she was lying to herself. He was definitely none of those things here, and for some reason, she cared about what he said, a lot.


Shuddering at the thought, she busied herself with dressing and pushed it out of her mind.


Then the conversation she had with Tara about her soul popped into her head. ‘Buffy, I want to believe you, I do. But if you had a soul, I would have seen it. And you don’t’ Tara’s words tore at her heart, even though they were said with utmost sympathy. She didn’t know what to do or think about it, but she knew she had to go apologize to Tara for running out on her so harshly.


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Buffy entered the Magic Box, and five heads looked up at the sound of the door jingle. To both her relief and disappointment, Spike wasn’t there.


Tara eyes immediately softened at Buffy’s arrival. She felt bad for upsetting her so much yesterday. She wasn’t sure why Buffy would think she had a soul, but the devastation in Buffy’s voice and expression had torn at her sympathy regardless.


Buffy looked at Tara with slightly ashamed eyes, coated with an expression of pain, and then darted her gaze to the side.


“Hi Buffy,” Willow chirped, as she began to notice the sadness in the air. Her smile turned to a frown. “What’s wrong?”


“Uh nothing…I just…Tara, can I talk to you?” Buffy asked quietly.


The others frowned in puzzlement.


Tara saw Willow open her mouth, about to speak, so she jumped in before they could say anything, “Yea sure, let’s go for a quick walk outside!”


Grabbing Buffy by the arm gently, Tara ushered them both toward the door.


“Wait-,” Willow began, but the two girls already went out the door.


“What the hell was that all about?” Xander said puzzled.


“Do you think they’re having a secret affair?” Anya pondered out loud.


“What!? No,” Willow replied quickly at the absurd question, “Of course they aren’t! Buffy’s not gay…” Willow wavered, as she frowned a bit. She knew the thought was ridiculously ‘ANYA,’ but now she felt a little jealous that she was being left out of their little private conversation, even if she knew Anya was just messing around.


“Anya!” Xander accused.


“Ok ok, I’m just kidding! Don’t worry, Willow. I’m sure you give Tara many good orgasms,” Anya finished with a patronizing voice of reassurance.


Willow just cringed in response, as Giles was furiously cleaning his glasses, muttering under his breath.


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“What’s on your mind, Buffy?” Tara asked, once they were far enough away from the building so that even vampire hearing couldn’t reach them.


“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Buffy said sheepishly, “for running out and being so angry. I know it wasn’t your fault…”


“Buffy, it’s ok. I’m sorry I upset you. I-, I had no idea that…you didn’t remember that you have no soul,” Tara stuttered.


Buffy winced at the words, but quickly tried to regain her composure.


“Is there something you wanted to talk about? Or anything I can do to help you?” Tara asked, still confused at Buffy and this whole thing.


Buffy thought about all the things she wanted to say. ‘Tell me I have a soul. Tell me how to get out of here. Help me get this chip out.’ A thought came to her mind.


“Actually, yea…” Buffy began hesitantly, trying to think of how she wanted to phrase it. “Can you help me do some research?”


Tara was a bit surprised at her request, and disappointed that Buffy didn’t seem to want to explain the whole soul thing, but she let it go. “Y-yea, s-sure Buffy. What’s it for?”


“I want you to help me look for anything about like myths or legends of world reversal. How the world can possibly be reversed, or if all good can turn to evil, vice versa. I know it sounds stupid, but I just need to make sure about my vision, you know?” Buffy said, hoping she sounded convincing.


Tara hesitated for a moment, until she saw the eagerness and pleading in Buffy’s eyes. “Ok Buffy, I’ll try my best, b-but I’ve never heard of such a thing.”


Buffy looked hopeful still. “Will you try?”


“Of course,” Tara said, as she squeezed Buffy’s hand quickly.


“And let’s just keep this between us. They already think I’m crazy enough,” Buffy finished.


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Walking back into the Magic Box, Tara tried to think of something to tell them, but came up with nothing.


“What was that about? Is Buffy ok?” Willow asked, more curious than concerned.


“Yea, everything’s fine now. Buffy was just apologizing for ditching me at the Bronze yesterday. She was upset about not remembering certain things,” Tara said, trying not to stutter too much.


“What do you mean?” Willow asked.


“You know, Mike and…other things…” Tara said.


Willow looked suspicious of her lame answer, but quickly remembered this was Tara.


“Yea…I suppose she did look upset yesterday…” Willow trailed off.


“Why would she take just you aside?” Xander asked suspiciously.


Tara looked up at his question, “Well, it’s not exactly like you’ve been the n-nicest person to Buffy, h-have you?”


Everyone turned to look at him.


“What?? It’s just Buffy!” Xander defended against accusing eyes. But they all didn’t even reply, turning their back to their work.


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Buffy went walking around Sunnydale, deep in her thoughts. She was clinging to the last shred of hope she had with Tara – it was an incredibly slim chance, but there was nothing else she could do. She wanted to go home badly. But a tiny, teeny, small part of her didn’t. She realized she didn’t have to patrol much here. She wasn’t the Chosen One here, not with the chip anyway. Her initial anger and feelings of defenselessness were slowly being replaced by relief that she was getting a chance to relax from her ‘duty.’ Still, she had to get home soon.


Walking past a dark alley, Buffy suddenly heard a loud crashing of glass. Jumping out of her thoughts and into alert-mode, Buffy cautiously peered down the alley, surveying the source of the noise. It was coming from what seemed to be the back door of a gaudily-lit bar.


She stepped into the alley slowly until she was about 20 feet from the back door, straining to hear anything else.


A recognizable, but muffled voice from within yelled, “Give me another bottle, you bloody git!! I’m not that drunk!”


Buffy was surprised. She didn’t expect to hear Spike’s voice. Deciding that the scene he was making was probably worth seeing, she opened the backed door hesitantly, hoping drunk vampires didn’t equal hungry-for-Buffy vampires. In both ways.


As she opened the door more, it creaked loudly, making several heads turn up to look in her direction.


Freezing at the spot, Buffy gave the room of observers a meek smile.


“Shlayer!” Spike yelled as he smacked down his bottle on the bar. “What the hell are you doing here??”


Oh Spike was definitely drunk. He looked totally wasted, resulting in a combination of incoherence and random outbursts of anger.


Buffy tried not to laugh, as she walked over to him by the bar. “Spike, you’re completely wasted. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Buffy said with an amused smirk.


“Get away from me! And tell your head to stop moving from side to side! It’s bloody annoying and rude,” Spike finished as he guzzled down more alcohol.


Buffy flinched at his demand for her to get away from him, but quickly remembered he was drunk.


Then, the bartender came over to them. “You want anything, Slayer?”


“Um…a world of no,” Buffy replied, shocked that she was known and not killed on the spot here. It was a vampire bar after all. ‘I guess it’s like the Bronze…’


“You’re bloody stupid. And you have stupid hair. If you don’t want a drink then get out,” Spike said in between his gulps.


Buffy pouted. She was use to Spike being a jackass, but she did NOT have stupid hair.


“And will you shut up with that already!?” Spike asked in a highly annoyed tone.


“What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t say anything yet,” Buffy retorted, her patience for drunk-Spike wearing thin.


“Your heartbeat is giving me a headache. Tell it to be quiet!” Spike yelled.


“Alriiiiiight then... C’mon, let’s go. You’re way too drunk,” said Buffy.


She reached out to grab his arm to lead him off the stool, but Spike violently flung his arm out of her reach and fumbled with his balance.


“Hey! No touching!” Spike yelled in a defensive voice. “I don’t love you!”


Surprised, Buffy stepped back from him for a moment. That was a random outburst. And his words disturbed her in an odd way. Spike was supposed to say the opposite of that.


“Fine. Deal with your own puddle of vomit,” Buffy said angrily, tired of being calm to this jackass-version Spike. She turned to storm out and leave Spike in his own drunken misery. ‘Did I ask him if he loves me? Moron…’ While making her way across the room to the door, a large figure came to stand in front of her, blocking her path.


“Hey Slayer, you’re not leaving already, are you?” said the male voice.


Buffy looked up at the man. He towered over her, as her eyes traveled up his form to his face. He had about the same form as Angel. Expecting a face of an oaf, Buffy was met with one. He had black hair, brown eyes, and just looked plain sleazy. She certainly wanted to hit this guy in the face for the way he was staring at her.


“Yea, I’m leaving. Excuse me,” Buffy replied quickly. She moved to the right to bypass him, but he moved to his left and stood in her way.


“You can’t leave yet. You didn’t even have a drink! Here! Drink this shot!” he boomed, as he picked the shot glass on the table nearby and thrust it towards Buffy.


‘Ah, great. A big, drunken, oaf-fy vampire.’ Buffy thought with a roll of her eyes. Before she could reply, she heard from behind her, “Hey! You git!”


Spike stumbled over to them, with a bottle still in his hand. “Get away from my shlayer! Only I can yell at her!”


Buffy shot him an angry glare, and opened her mouth to yell at him, “I’m not YOURS, you drunken-.”


The oaf cut in, “See, she’s not yours. Spike, why don’t you go find Leanna or something? Buffy and I are having fun!”


Buffy was about to correct the oaf, but saw the pissed off look on Spike’s face, and closed her mouth, deciding to play along. Instead, she stepped closer to the oaf and took the shot from his hand, pretending she had asked him for one all along. Giving Spike a haughty smirk, she said, “We’re having fun. Why don’t you go find Leanna?”


Spike looked pissed in his drunken state. But then a smirk came to his mouth, “Really? You’re having fun? Let me see you down that shot then.”


Buffy’s haughty smirk disappeared, replaced by a frown. She wasn’t planning on drinking it, because she knew how well THAT would turn out. But Spike was obviously challenging her. Staring at the glass in her hands, she frowned. When she looked back up at Spike, he had a pompous smirk on his face. His expression pissed her off, and she lifted the shot to her mouth, dumping it into her mouth with one move. The liquid scorched her throat and she felt like she was going to gag.


“Bleh!” Buffy said instinctively, as her face contorted in disgust. Looking at Spike’s surprised face, she regained her cool and added, “See. I can down a shot!”


The oaf looked pleased and quickly got her another one. But the first drink had already started to make her feel spacey. This was not going to end well.


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