Buffy's Diary
January 13, 1998

Timeline: The scene at the end of Bad Eggs in Buffy's bedroom

All lines not written by me, but by the show's authors, are marked by an *

I really liked that pink top, but I had to throw it out...I didn't even try to wash it. First of all, I couldn't put it in the laundry, Mom would see it and she's already mad enough...and I don't think that goo was going to come out anyway. YUCK. When I got called as the Slayer in LA there was nothing about GOO. It was vampires, danger, dust....death...not exactly fluffy girl stuff, but at least vampire dust doesn't ruin all your clothes. I lost my best slingbacks to reptile boy. No wonder I have to spend so much money on wardrobe.

It's weird the way things work out...if Mom hadn't swung at me with the pickax, then she wouldn't have dropped it and I would have had to fight mommy Bazoar with my bare hands. In the moment, when I'm fighting, nothing grosses me out. Later's when I get almost-barf need.

I called him. I haven't before when it wasn't an emergency. I felt so stupid about doing it and I almost hung up, but then he answered and it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he said, "I just heard about what happened at the school. Are you OK?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, "Just a gigantic demon Mommy Bazoar was trying to make slaves out of humanity and take over the planet with her creepy offspring. But I'm GROUNDED,"

"You're grounded?" he was laughing softly, "Why?"

"Well, I could explain it better if I had a kiss goodnight,"


"I'm grounded, but she didn't say anything about saying goodnight from my window,"

"I'll see you in a few," he said.


I have a feeling I'm going to meet up with that Gorch again. He's scared away for now, but he's too stupid to stay gone. They were pretty tough, but not hard to kill. I wish they were all like that, big mouth and no guts. Like Spike. He was tougher, but he had more attitude than strength. Right now I have that feeling I get when Sunnydale is basically clean. It's like when my room's clean. I know it won't last, but it's good for a day or two to just look around and feel satisfied.

I was writing in my diary and I heard that soft knock behind me. Most of the time I see him in a cemetery and or at the Bronze. I don't get to look at him in direct light too often. It's been awhile. It should be illegal to look like that. He's got these beautiful white teeth and that face and those pretty eyes and when he grins it's deadly.

"Sure you're all right?" he asked.

I went over to the window. He was standing on the top rung of the trellis. He managed to look cool doing that. I have no idea how.

"I am now," I said, and I leaned against the window sill and put my hand on his cheek and kissed him and a rush of heat went through my whole body, it's getting worse and worse....or better and better. I kissed him for a while and he was teasing me, running his lips over mine lightly and then just barely biting and slipping his tongue over my lower lip, back and forth, and he knows by now exactly what that does to me. It seems like years since we actually touched and I wanted him so badly that I felt faint. I pulled away a little.

"Sure you won't get in trouble?"* he asked.

"Hey, I earned this. Besides, I'm not breaking any rules,"* I said.

"Buffy! Are you going to bed?"* Mom.

"In a minute!"* I called.

His neck is smooth, and the skin under his ears and chin is so soft and tender, it's like baby skin. He's really sensitive there...he loves it when I kiss his neck, it makes him moan and move his head around, and I wondered if he was getting hard and I wanted to reach for him but it was impossible to do in that position, so I just thought about it and made it worse on myself.

I was running my hands all over his neck and in his hair and inside his shirt and he was making wonderful sounds and he smelled incredible and I was wet, right away. He smelled delicious. Sometime I'm going to ask him what that is. He's self-conscious about it, though, so not yet. He smelled like someplace I think I've dreamt about, some place that's hot, where the air is heavy with spices. I almost dragged him through the window.

"I want-" I was out of breath, "I want to touch you, so bad," I was whispering, because Mom was on responsibility alert.

"I know, I know what you mean," he said, being quiet too, "But it's good to have spaces,"

My heart sank, just a little.



"Is this a space talk?"


"You know, 'Honey, I need more space'?"

He ducked his head a little when he laughed, very softly.

"No," he said, "I don't mean that. I just mean...for instance...if a book had no spaces between words the book would be just one long word that made no sense. Sometimes spaces between things give you a chance to see those things better,"

"Oh," I thought about this. It always seemed to me that we had plenty of spaces.

"It doesn't mean I don't want to be with you-" he paused and his eyes got soft, "I want to be with you all the time. But it makes me appreciate you more. I forgot how pretty your eyes are. I never really remember how pretty they are,"

"I just never feel like I see you enough," I said, and then I realized that I might have gone too far, but he took my hand.

"I'll never see enough of you," he said, and he was looking right into me, "Not ever, Buffy. I'll never touch you enough, I'll never kiss you enough. It's impossible," his voice got even softer, "I want you too...but it's not just being able to touch you that's good. It's also..." one of his eyebrows went up a little, it was such a sexy look, "...wanting to touch you," and he smiled at me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and slipped my tongue deep into his mouth.

We kissed, and I heard Mom coming up the stairs.

"I have to get ready for bed," I said, "Will you wait?"

"I'll be here," he turned sideways, so you couldn't see him from the room. I got into pajamas and turned the light out.

"Good night, Buffy," said Mom, outside the door.

"'Night, Mom,"

I turned and saw his shadow in the window, and I thought about the other times his shadow has been there, and the first time we kissed, and the time I came home and found him looking at my pictures and stuffed animals, about all the times he's warned me about danger and then showed up to help, even when I tried to send him away. I felt something catch in my chest. I love him. I love his shadow, and his face, and his annoying cryptic style, and the way he fights. I love the way he's a soap freak and the way he always tries to do the right thing. I love the way he tells me when he's scared, and how he takes care of business whether he's scared or not. I love him.

I crawled onto the windowsill and pulled him to me. We held each other. It's the only place I ever want to be again, right there. I love the way he holds me. His hands always cradle my back, he makes me safe, right away. I know it's a place that's just for me and that he'd rather have me there than have anything else. I know it.

"Buffy," he whispered, and I knew what he meant. There aren't words for everything. Some things you just feel and you just know and there aren't words to name them. I was feeling the same thing. Also, I didn't say anything because I would have told him I loved him if I'd talked right then. We just held each other. My heart was swelling and almost aching and I could feel his doing the same thing.

I was sitting on the sill and I had my arms around him and my face pressed to his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head.

"You should get your sleep," he said.

I looked up at him. I didn't want him to go. He didn't want to go. He kissed my forehead, and then my nose and soon every inch of my face, little soft kisses, and his hands were sliding up and down my back. I just closed my eyes and disappeared into the way it felt. I sighed and my whole body went limp in his arms. He kissed my mouth. There was a heat spreading inside me, it was taking over. My heart was wide open and I was wide open, I wanted him inside me, I wanted him to fill me up, I wanted to be full of him, brimming over with him, my heart and my body and ...everything. I started to pull him into my room.


"I know," I sighed, a big, shuddering one. "I know, you should go,"


"This is awful,"

"It's wonderful," he said, and I looked at him. He meant a completely different thing. One hundred years alone. Really alone. No friends, no family, no vampire cliques, no humans. Nobody, just horrible memories and never being able to feed like he really wanted to. I wanted to make that up for him somehow, suddenly. All that loneliness. I slipped one hand inside his shirt and put my hand over his heart. He put a hand over mine and held it there, and I could feel the flesh warming. The way he was looking at me, I knew that he could feel the heat of my hand moving deep inside him, and my eyes stung, a tear ran down the side of my nose. I took a harsh little breath. He was stroking my hair. We didn't need to say anything and I loved the way he knew my thoughts and didn't make me say them. He held my cheek against his. It wasn't just sexy, it was...feelings. Feelings so powerful that you almost feel like they'll rip you apart. I want to give him what he gives me, a place where he knows he's wanted and safe, always.

He kissed me and I climbed back into my room. I couldn't let go of him, I still had his hands. "I'll see you soon," he said. He kissed my hands and then let go of them.

"I'll miss you tonight," I said. A year ago I wouldn't have been able to imagine saying that to any boy, or even feeling it.

"I'll miss you," he said, and I could see that he's changed, too, he's gotten much more at ease, much more expressive. I guess that's not saying much, but he lets me see his feelings now. Neither one of us is afraid to do that anymore. I think we've both always felt this way, but now we can admit to ourselves. And each other.

I don't just miss him kissing me, or doing all the incredible things he can do to me when he touches me. I miss him beside me. Just being next to me. In my weird life, it's the one time everything falls into place, where things become really clear. I know what's important when I'm with him.