Don't Tell (Willow/Spike Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

A few days later and I was still out of sorts. I just couldn't get Spike's expression when he rescued me out of my mind. Did he just want to protect me because I'm part of the gang? Or could it have been something more. It was late evening, and I was walking back home after my shift at the Magic Box.  Giles had been particularly stressed out that day due to the fact that a Bulgara demon (a normally peaceful race) had ordered Powdered Bicorn Horn, and Giles made the mistake of giving him Boiled Tricorn Horn.  Bulgaras coincidentally happen to be allergic to Tricorn Horn, and it causing our customer to swell up to a large size, almost like a balloon. Giles as just about to apply the antidote when the Bulgara accidentally fell back into a sword tip, causing him to, essentially, pop. We spend the whole day cleaning up the gelatinous purple remains of one of the rarest non-hostile demon races. Giles was really happy about that. 

Anyways, I was on my way to the dorms, and the quickest way to get there was through the cemetery, so guess who decided to take that path without even a pencil. That's right. Me.

I know what you're thinking. 'Good job Willow. You're going through a vampire infested graveyard in the middle of Sunnydale, and you don't even have a stake.' Looking back, I can see how that was maybe not the best idea, especially a girl with a grade point average that rivals Einstein's.

As I made my way through the graveyard I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched, the cold stone eyes of the angels following me as I passed. I was still distracted about the whole Spike thing, so I wasn't paying attention, and I didn't happen to see a flash of leather duck behind a tombstone. I was rummaging in my bag to see if I could find the granola bar I had stashed in there for a snack, when suddenly I tripped, and was startled to see the ground hurtling towards my face at an alarming rate. I threw out my hands to brace myself, only to be caught by a pair of strong hands.

"Whoa there love, better be careful around these fancy rocks, or otherwise there might be one with your name on it soon." I turned to see Spike standing there. You can guess what his facial expression was.

You've got it.

A smirk.

I immediately felt a rush of heat in my cheeks as I flushed red with embarrassment. Why him? Why was it always him?

I bent down and began to pick up my things, which had fallen out of my bag when I tripped. I stood up, only to see Spike reading my journal.

'Oh my goddess!' I thought, panicking. 'I wrote about Spike in there!' 

I had been puzzling over the bar incident in my journal, thinking that if I wrote it down it might help me better understand it. Unfortunately, I had also expressed the opinion that Spike was somewhat... attractive. 

And now he was reading my journal.

Fudge Nuggets.

Spike's smirk slowly got bigger as he continued reading. I didn't know what to do. If I ask for it back it may tip him off that there's something about him in it, but if I let him keep reading then he would see it unless he never reads that part. I couldn't decide, so I just stood there, trying to look invisible.

I was just about to try to sneak away when I heard the book snap shut.

"So, you think, and I quote, 'His eyes are like sapphires that have been frozen in a beautiful lake, which reflects the nature of the sky, and the cold North wind wears away at a stone-hard face, till his beauty shines for all.'?"

"Um," I stammered, my mind rushing with possible responses. "I was, uh, writing about, Johnny Depp! That's it! You know, with all his, uh, masculine charm?"

"Oh really?" Spike says, laughing. "First off, Johnny bloody Depp had brown eyes, not blue, and second, the entry is titled, 'Spike's Eyes'. Explain that one, pet."

Uh Oh. I was busted.

"Wow, will you look at the time? I need to get going." I tried to grab my journal from his hand, but he held it out of my reach, swinging it back and forth above my head.

"Oh, but you can't go yet! I need to know what else you think about me? What about my hair? Let me guess, 'Angels have come from high and placed a crown of golden silk upon his gorgeous brow'? Give me a break, love. As if."

I felt my eyes start to well up with tears. 

"I'm sorry alright! It was a mistake! You're obviously not the man I thought you were, so just give me back my book!" I shouted, letting all my anger pour out. My friends, for letting Spike be the one to rescue me and not them, the man, for being suck a jerk, Spike, for, well, I don't know what I was mad at him for, but I was on a roll. "No wonder Buffy didn't love you! Who could ever love such a monster?"

Spike looked at me, and I was shocked to see the hurt written across his face. He walked over to me, and leaned in so close I could smell him. His hair was cleanly washed, and I was surprised that it smelled vaguely of lavender. 

"You're right." He said quietly, glaring at me. "No one could love a monster. You should know."

He started to walk away, but before he left he threw my journal into a muddy puddle, and tears filled my eyes as the pages filled with water.

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