What A Girl Wants

Chapter 2—In Dreams

Buffy drifted home on a cloud. She could have never imagined things would be so easy to change. A little attitude adjustment here, a simple action there, and maybe she could avert the disaster her life had become in such a short amount of time.

Still, she knew in her heart that the greatest task was still ahead of her—convincing Giles and the Scoobies that this was the right path. She was aware of their mistrust and disgust for Spike, but the summer without her should have changed all that, shouldn’t it? Somehow, she never delved into what happened while she was gone. She had been too wrapped up in her own misery to care what had happened to anyone else.

She was shocked at the revelations that came with her 20/20 hindsight. She was, in a word, a bleeding bitch. Using Spike the way she did. Ignoring Willow and her problems. Severely fucking up the whole investigation of the Evil Trio. Tara—maybe in this time, this place, she could prevent all that. All the pain they had to go through. Dawn’s pain, Willow’s pain, Spike’s pain. So much pain and so little attention to it from her end, just because of her self-centered egocentric view on the world. Her pain was the only thing that mattered. Her pain. Her numbness, more like it.

By the time she got to Revello Drive, she was fired up and ready for action. Ready to take on whatever she had to, to make things better for everyone.

And she arrived just in time to see Tara leaving, boxes of her belongings scattered on the front porch. Dawn was upstairs in her room, crying over the dissolution of the family she knew; Willow sat in the bathroom, resentment and disillusionment full on her face, shining brightly through the tears that seeped from her eyes.

Buffy ran back down the stairs to stop Tara before she put the last box in the taxicab. “Tara—wait!”

Tara turned to her, cheeks flushed and tears running freely over them, leaving silvery trails in the moonlight. “I can’t stay, Buffy. I can’t. She messed with my mind, again. I can’t….”

Buffy pulled the girl into the circle of her arms, and held her close while she stifled her own sobs. “I will take care of this, Tara. I promise you. Willow needs training. I’ll see that Giles gets her some help, of some kind, before things—turn out badly.”

Tara pulled away from Buffy, then turned her magickal eyes on her. “You aren’t our Buffy. Our Buffy didn’t care, or didn’t notice. You—you’re fixing things, aren’t you?”

Buffy looked like a deer in headlights. “Why do you say that?”

“Your aura. It’s different. There’s no—it’s different, changed from the one you had yesterday. I-I can’t explain.”

“Neither can I, Tara. Call it a gift from the Powers That Be. But I will tell you, you’re right. Dead on. Just, don’t let anyone else know, okay? And please, don’t be a stranger. Willow is stronger with you than she is without you, and she’ll need that strength.”

Tara nodded, then got into the cab. She looked out of the window at Buffy, and said, “You know, for some reason, I trust you. Make things right, okay?”

“I will, Tara.” I’ll make it right for everyone, she thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, after a good night of blessedly dreamless sleep, Buffy got up, prepared for her greatest challenge.

She called Giles as soon as she woke up, asking him to have all the Scoobies, including Tara, at the Magic Box for a meeting. She dressed carefully, walked with Dawn to school, then headed to the Magic Box, preparing to do battle.

Giles was as good as his word. He had all the gang there, donuts and coffee waiting, as well as his ever-present tea. She looked at the familiar faces around the table, knowing what was to come for each of them and prayed to whoever was listening for strength to avert the disasters.

She stood at the edge of the table, not wanting to sit, and pinned Giles with her eyes. “Okay, Giles. This is important. Really important. And if it means the shop stays closed today, it has to. I had a Slayer dream last night. And I was terrified.”

“A Slayer dream? Buffy, are you certain?” Giles reached to remove his glasses, and Buffy flapped her hand in his direction.

“No need to clean them, Giles, they aren’t dirty. Leave them alone. Yes, I know it was a Slayer dream. I saw…well, I would just rather not say what I saw. But I know—I know that if we don’t change some things, and I mean like right now, there will be more heartache and more death than we can handle. I know that I have been all selfish girl lately, but this dream—it showed me where all this self-pity and self-loathing will lead me. And the rest of you. So, here’s some things we’re gonna do….”

She leaned forward, and looked deep into Willow’s eyes. “Willow, I love you. You are my best friend in the world. You know more about me than anyone does and vice versa. But Will, you need help. You need to learn to control your magic and yourself, before someone gets hurt. What you did last night was inexcusable. I know you want to help me, but forgetting where I was is not the way. I want you to go to England with Giles, and I’m certain that he knows someone from his Ripper days to assist you in training.”

Willow’s eyes filled with tears, but to her credit, none fell. “I know that I did a very bad thing yesterday, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like that.”

“I know, Will. Don’t you see? You need control. You need training. You went from no magick to tons of it, in a very short time. I don’t want to see it take you over.” She rounded the table, and pulled the redhead into a hug. “It isn’t easy, Will, to accept help. I know that better than everyone here. Please. Do it for me. Do this for Dawn. Most important, do it for Tara.”

The tears finally ran, and soaked the shoulder of Buffy’s shirt. “I will. I will, I promise.”

“Giles?”

“I know of a coven outside Bath. I’m sure they can…er…assist Willow with her control and balance issues.”

“Good. Now, I want to tell you all about Spike.”

Xander finally decided to participate in the conversation, since the donuts were gone. “The Evil Undead? What about him? You gonna stake him? Can I watch?”

Buffy rounded on him, and he saw the anger shimmering in the depths of her eyes. Her words were controlled when she spoke, belying her feelings. “Spike is important to me. Very important. He will be a key player in the future, and a key player for me. So there will be no stakeage of Spike, and no name calling anymore, Xander. He is a Scooby. He will stay an important member of this team.”

Xander stood, bristling. “Buffy, you can’t expect us to—“

“I am not expecting anything, I am demanding it. He has done more for me, for the Scoobies, for my sister, than all of you can imagine. How many times did he save your sorry ass, Xander, while I was dead? How many nights did he patrol with you? How many times did he stay with Dawn? Don’t worry about answering. I already know. If anything, I can get the truth from my sister.”

She paced around the table, all eyes on her. She could feel their stares boring into her, and she accepted that there would be resistance. Especially with what came next.

“I am taking him as my mate. Claiming him.”

The room exploded with voices. Giles was uncharacteristically silent.

She raised her hands, then her voice, when they kept talking. “Okay, enough! I saw this—and I’m not opposed to it. Why are you?”

Giles removed his glasses this time, cleaning them vigorously with his handkerchief. “Buffy, I think that this needs some thought before you take such a step.”

“Nope, no thought. Slayer dream, Giles. I was there. I saw it. Spike will be a key player, and I need him.”

“What the hell do you need a peroxide blond vampire for, Buffy? He’s only tried to kill you since—well, forever. Don’t you remember that?”

She rounded on Xander, tired of his comments and his snarky behavior. “And you make such good relationship choices, huh? Let’s look at your dating history, Alexander Harris. Preying mantis teacher. Dead Inca mummy girl. Ex-demon. Cordelia. Not exactly the normal hit parade, is it? I don’t get to choose who you date. I don’t even stick my nose in it, do I? Don’t I deserve the same consideration? If I make a mistake, it’s mine to make, not yours. I will live with the consequences, not you. And if it comes to it, I will gladly listen to you saying I-told-you-so. But that is so not the way this will go. He loves me. Loves me. With all my flaws, all my shortcomings, all my baggage, he loves me. I have a limited time and a short expiration date on my life. I deserve to be loved. So does he. In short, if you don’t like my choices—sod off, as Spike would say.”

“Buffy, what if--?” Willow started to say.

“What if nothing, Will. What if the world ended tomorrow? You would have had time with Tara. Xander with Anya. Me? What do I have to look back on? Angel? Oh, yeah, sleep with him once, and he loses his stinking soul—that’s a great memory. How about Parker? The ultimate user loser? Riley? Insecurity and a little dick. Sorry, Giles. My point is, I need some happiness. You four, in your own little minds, decided to bring me back, and stole happiness right out from under me. If Spike makes me happy, then I deserve it. And I’m reaching out to grab it. Like it or not.”

“Buffy’s right.”

The group turned as one to look at the shy blond witch. “S-she’s right. We did do s-some pretty bad things to her. Then expected her to pick up right where she left off. We need to quit meddling in her life.”

“I think so too.” Anya nodded vigorously. “Buffy deserves multiple orgasms, and vampires are famous for their stamina. She needs someone who can match her in Slayer strength, and Spike would be perfect for her. Plus, they are already attracted to each other, so there will be lots of happy sex, and very little angst between them.”

“Thank you, Tara, and…Anya. Tara, I want you to move back into the house after Will leaves for England. Dawn needs you.”

“O-okay.”

“I’m also asking Spike to move in.” She waited for Xander to finish spluttering, and said, “I just wanted to warn you all ahead of time. Dawn needs guidance. She respects Spike. She loves Tara. She needs all three of us. If I don’t get a handle on things soon, Social Services will be on my doorstep and turning her over to foster care or my deadbeat dad, and that just will not happen.”

She picked up her light jacket, and draped it over her arm. “I am going job hunting. You,” she said, indicating all of them, “have some decisions to make.”