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Life Lessons From My Husky

I’ve been observing this puppy of mine for the last couple weeks, and I’ve decided that there’s a lot to learn from her. Here are some of the lessons she’s taught me!

"Mom, I found a softball. It's so much better than my dinky tennis balls!"

No Matter How Much You Like It, It Can Be Tough To Carry Around

We went to the dog park last week, and Buffy found this softball. Oh, how she loved it. She was determined to haul it around with her — even though it’s about the size of her head. Sometimes as humans we carry around our nostalgia like Buffy’s softball. Sure, it can still look shiny and new, but really it’s just something old we keep finding over and over again.

Continuing to carry it with us is a chore, though not always one we see as such. Sometimes we never know how much weight we’ve been hauling with us until someone makes us let it go.

Satellite dishes!

Your Ears Should Be Your Biggest Asset

Even if they resemble satellite dishes more than auditory devices, your ears are important. Listening to the world and the other people around you is one of the greatest tools you can ever use. So often we surround ourselves with sound without taking the trouble to sit down and really listen — and all too often we hear words without listening to the meaning behind them.

We’re all guilty of it: people with differing viewpoints, our parents, our spouses, our friends, our bosses, our employees, our children, that homeless guy on the corner. The list goes on and on. We think we know best and wonder why things aren’t working out the way we wanted them to. Nine times out of ten, our problems can be more easily solved if we just open up our ears and hear people out.

Everybody loves an ice cube on a hot day.

Even If You Are Very Different, You Still May Have Things In Common

When Buffy and Willow first met, there was a lot of bottle brush tail, a few lunges, several hisses, and a full-clawed swipe or two. They may both have four legs, fur, and a tail, but they’re still different kinds of critters who speak a different language. It took them some trial and error and a lot of listening to the occasional yelp and mew to get it right — and they still backslide a little — but now they’re able to hang out and share something they both like: ice cubes.

I gave them both ice cubes the other day, and lo and behold, they both love them! They sat there just lick, lick, licking them until they were gone. Even if you’re different than someone, even if to you a friendly bark sounds, well, friendly and you can’t understand why it scares someone else — you might be able to find some common ground somewhere. That’s where those satellites above come in handy.

"Willow's toys look like much more fun than mine, Mom!"

Some Things Are Out Of Reach For Good Reason

I don’t think people like to hear that, even though we tell our kids and our pets over and over. “Don’t touch the stove; it’s hot!” “Just because you can get on the roof doesn’t mean you should!” “Yes, but how are you going to get down from the tree?”

Willow’s bird sure looks like fun to Buffy, but that plastic rod could splinter easily. It has small parts that could choke her. Just like Willow shouldn’t gorge herself on Buffy’s treats, Buffy shouldn’t get to play with toys that could be hazardous to her.

Think about 2008, the splintering plastic rod in the US mortgage world. For a decade, Americans bought houses that were out of reach. Just barely, maybe, but they overextended themselves. Then the rod splintered, and we all choked on it. I worked in real estate that year. It went boom, and not in a good, exploding values sort of way. More like diamonds to dirt. If something is out of reach, it doesn’t mean we should stop at nothing to get it; it sometimes means we should be content with what we have and be thankful for it.

Something tells me she won't fit.

What Works For Someone Else Might Not Work For You

This also can be a tough splinter to swallow. Willow loves her boxes. Spouse went through a whole twenty minutes of trouble to carve out holes, make little danglies, and generally create a cardboard paradise for Willow Kitty. Buffy doesn’t have anything like that, and she tries to chase Willow inside her little havens.

But she doesn’t fit. She instead knocks them over and then sits there looking bewildered.

If she did get inside, she’d likely feel trapped and panicked and try to get out, breaking the box in the process. We’re back to the people are different theme — what works for you might not work for someone else. That can go for politics, religion, waking up early, who you want to marry, and what kind of cheese you like on your sandwiches. Trying to fit into someone else’s comfy box could cause panic and claustrophobia. Find something that works for you, and be yourself.

"I love my chicken quarter, Mom. It's deeeeelicious. And tastes even better on the floor!"

Think Outside The Bowl. Erm, Box.

There are seven billion people on this planet. (Anyone else remember when it was *only* six? Yeesh.) Most of them probably disagree with you. That’s fine. But what we have to remember regardless of who disagrees is that we’re all stuck on this little round rock together. We have to breath each other’s air and drink each other’s water. Sometimes we have to help other people’s children.

This world can be a big and scary place, but it’s full of faces. Full of people who might look and think differently than we do, but people who ultimately desire the same things we do. Safety. Love. Food. Sex. Warmth. Companionship. We’re all different, but we are also all the same. We’ll never get along if we can’t think outside the box and step out of our comfort zones a little.

Besides. Sometimes you find that life just tastes a bit better when you do.

Buffy the Siberian Husky and Willow the Domestic Medium Hair Mutt Cat are already best pals — they play, drink from the same water bowl, and wreak havoc for Mom. Between the surprise pouncing matches, the war on Mom’s bamboo, and Buffy’s ability to pee twice in two minutes right after she comes inside, life’s always a trip in the Mears household. They’re only 9 weeks into this life, but they’re already showing me that they’ve got some wisdom to teach me.

Cookie Dough Part 3: Buffy and Spike

We’ve talked about star-crossed lovers Buffy and Angel. We’ve explored Buffy’s rather normal but still unhealthy relationship with Riley. Now we’re on to the relationship I’ve been most excited to delve into — Buffy and Scott.

Kidding.

The story of Buffy and Spike is one that goes around in circles, sends you soaring over cliffs and plunging through several floors of houses. In some ways, it’s the most destructive relationships displayed on the show at all — except for one major game changer.

Spike crashes into Sunnydale  with his lover Drusilla, a sadistic vampire whom Angel drove insane before siring her by torturing her entire family — and brutalizing an entire convent the day Dru was supposed to take her holy orders. Spike and Drusilla roamed the world with Angelus and Darla until Angel’s curse made him go all repenty. Spike killed two slayers, one in the Boxer Rebellion in China and the other in 1970s New York — and he’s aiming for his lucky third.

Caaaaan you feel the loooooove tonight?

The first time we meet Spike, he’s storming Sunnydale High with an army of vampires — on Parent Teacher Night no less. Through the season, he becomes a…spike in Buffy’s side as he tries to restore an ailing Drusilla from the wounds inflicted by a mob in Prague. After Angel loses his soul, Buffy and Spike form an uneasy alliance in order for Buffy to stop Angel from awakening Acathla and for Spike to get Drusilla out of town.

When Spike comes back to Sunnydale, Drusilla has dumped him, and he wants Willow to make Dru love him again. Though Spike seems reckless and rebellious, he often offers insights to the characters of the show that display depth and truth — which he sometimes uses to manipulate. In Lover’s Walk, Spike and Buffy have a run-in at the magic shop when a bunch of vampires try to get revenge on Spike. What Spike has to say about Buffy and Angel ultimately contributes to their break up:

Spike: The last time I looked in on you two, you were fightin’ to the death. Now you’re back making googly-eyes at each other like nothing happened. Makes me want to heave.
Buffy: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Spike: Oh, yeah. You’re just friends.
Angel: That’s right.
Spike: You’re not friends. You’ll never be friends. You’ll be in love till it kills you both. You’ll fight and you’ll shag and you’ll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you’ll never be friends. Love isn’t brains, children, it’s blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love’s bitch, but at least I’m man enough to admit it.

It’s in season four where Buffy begins to trust Spike after Riley’s buddies at the Initiative shove a chip in his head that keeps him from harming people. Though he still manipulates and tries to sabotage the Scoobies, blaming them for his predicament, he ends up fighting alongside them in the battle against Adam, and this lays the groundwork for one of the biggest milestones in Buffy and Spike’s relationship: trusting Spike with Dawn.

When season five arrives, it comes with a massive surprise: Buffy suddenly has a sister she has to protect. She and the rest of the world remember growing up with Dawn — though the viewers obviously don’t. When Buffy finds out that Dawn is the human embodiment of a Key that can tear down the walls between dimensions, she suddenly becomes a protector in a very real sense. Before then, Buffy protected those she loved and a rather faceless world. Dawn puts a face on it. Here is someone with whom Buffy has a familial bond. Made from her blood.

Buffy: Summers blood. It’s just like mine.

Buffy quickly realizes that she can’t be there to help Dawn all the time. And when Spike is among the first to know the truth about Dawn, Buffy has to choose to kill him or trust him. She chooses trust. And Spike, in one of the most antithetical actions to his vampire nature, delivers. When Glory captures Spike and tortures him for information about the Key, Spike doesn’t give up Dawn. He escapes, earning him the first real kiss from Buffy.

"What you did for me and Dawn -- that was real. I won't forget it."

When Buffy throws herself into the mystical energy at the end of season five, we see a broken and devastated Spike collapsed by her body. What is truly remarkable about these moments for Spike is that they go against just about everything the show has told us about vampires and love. Spike has no soul. Spike is, by nature, evil. Yet he is choosing to protect a human teenager (Dawn). He is fighting side by side with a Slayer by choice, out of love.

When Willow, Xander, Tara, and Anya bring Buffy back at the beginning of season six, Spike is the only person Buffy relates to. He’s stayed, protecting Dawn even after Buffy’s death. Why? His motivations, when he is completely ignorant of Willow’s plans to resurrect Buffy, show that he really loved her. He’s willing to continue fighting her fight even with her gone — and in his eyes, gone forever. Until she reappears.

"Every night I save you." Awesome image mashup -- if anyone knows who to credit, let me know.

Which brings us to season six. As Buffy’s life disintegrates around her, she feels lost. She feels wrong. She thought she was done when she jumped off that tower. She felt finished. She went to heaven — and she was pulled out by her friends. She hides it from them, but it’s clear she’s dying inside. She is forced back into a life she thought was over, and it brings out a side of her that she never expected.

Spike is the only one who seems to understand. Buffy turns to him for comfort early on, but in Once More, With Feeling that comfort becomes physical when they kiss — and then again after Giles leaves. A couple episodes later, Buffy and Spike start fighting, which ends in one of the more destructive sex scenes in TV history.

Talk about an awkward morning after -- in the ruins of the house you brought down. Oops.

As Buffy and Spike’s relationship progresses, it is blatantly unhealthy. It’s violent and secretive, and oddly, Riley’s the first person outside of the two of them to know about it when he returns in As You Were. Back when Buffy was dating Riley, Spike told Riley that Buffy needed a little monster in her man. Though he said it lightly, he meant it — and he’s right to an extent. Buffy needed someone more than human who wasn’t put off by her strength and who didn’t try to change her.

The relationship wears on Buffy so much that in Dead Things, she beats Spike to a pulp, taking her anger and fear out on him. Though she seems to be talking at Spike, her words are clearly meant for herself, much like when Faith beat up Buffy during their body switch in season four.

Buffy:You don’t have a soul. There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside. You can’t feel anything real. I could never be your girl.

Spike: You always hurt the one you love, pet.

Buffy has a total breakdown at the end of that episode when Tara tells her that she didn’t come back wrong — that everything she did to Spike, all her behavior was her. Buffy is forced to see a darker side of herself and take responsibility for her part in the unhealthy aspects of her relationship with Spike, which ultimately causes her to end the relationship, even though she repeats what Spike said to her. “You always hurt the one you love.” I believe this shows that Buffy was in love with Spike — she was just afraid to embrace it because of his nature.

The rest of the Scoobies find out only after Buffy has ended it, when the camera’s planted by the nerdy yet oddly effective Trio show Spike and Anya having sex in the Magic Box, and Dawn sees Buffy’s reaction. Spike reacts to this by coming to see Buffy, and if you’re a fan of the show, you’ll know what happens in this scene.

When he arrives, Buffy is injured, about to take a bath. And Spike tries to force himself on her. He almost succeeds in raping her, but she is able to kick him across the room and stop him. This is a tricky scene — a couple years ago, I heard a couple of podcasters blame Buffy for this. They said that she had ruined her “no” by changing it to a yes too many times with Spike. I don’t think that’s true, nor do I think that Spike came there to rape her. Is he to blame? Absolutely. But that scene is a catalyst for something spectacular, as painful as it is to watch — and I’ve scene it over ten times.

Spike, the soulless vampire, is torn apart by his memory of it. He replays it in his mind over and over again, hearing her screams, hearing her desperation, realizing how much he hurt the one he loved. So he leaves. Travels across the world to find a demon who can do something impossible.

A demon who can give Spike his soul.

"They put the spark in me, now all it does is burn."

As far as we’re told on the show, no vampire has ever actively worked to restore his or her soul. Spike is the first. He almost dies in the process — the trials he goes through in order to succeed are bloody near impossible. But he does it. He succeeds. To try and be a better man. To be what she deserves, someone who wouldn’t hurt her.

In season seven, Buffy notices the change in Spike. She discovers what he did after following him to a church, where he paces in the darkness gibbering about the spark. In one of the most poignant scenes in the series, Spike tells her why he did it.

Buffy:Why? Why would you do that?
Spike:Buffy, shame on you. Why does a man do what he mustn’t? Forher. To behers. To be the kind of man who would nev— (He pauses, almost crying.) To be a kind of man. And she shall look on him with forgiveness… and everybody will forgive and love. (Spike goes to the cross at the front of the church.) He will be loved. (He drapes himself over the cross. His skin begins to burn.) So everybody’s okay, right? (Buffy is crying.) C-can we rest now? Buffy? Can we rest?

From that moment, Buffy lets him try. And she sees him try, keep trying. In spite of the First taking up residence in his head, in spite of the crazy and the frustration, in spite of the trigger that makes him kill — Buffy believes in him. Whether he meant to do it or not, Spike proved something when he fought to restore his soul. He proved that he was a good man. He proved that he could rise above his nature.

While Spike and Buffy’s relationship in season six was unhealthy and destructive, season seven shows something so tender and fragile, so antithetical to the previous season, that it made me believe. Spike risked everything to be a better man, and Buffy saw it. His words to her in Touched show how much he’s changed.

SPIKE: You listen to me. I’ve been a live a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, and done things I prefer you didn’t. Don’t exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I’ve only my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain, so I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong, bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of — you. Hey, look at me. I’m not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you, and it has nothing to do with me. I love what you are. What you do. How you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you, and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are a hell of a woman. You’re the one, Buffy.

Ultimately, it’s why I believe Spike is the better choice for Buffy. While I don’t know where the series will go in season 9 — Joss might cut off that relationship forever, though at the moment it seems unlikely — Spike remains Buffy’s most faithful confidant. His motivations may often be selfish, but that doesn’t entail that they are self-serving, whereas Angel’s actions post television are almost frighteningly so, and he does one thing that I don’t think Buffy can ever or will ever forgive.

Angel’s soul was forced on him as a punishment, and it can be lost. Even ensouled, Angel does some abominable things, and he often refused to let Buffy move on. Spike on the other hand risked everything. He fought to be better without making demands on Buffy — in season nine, this is evidenced even more. Riley was too human, but Spike understands both darkness and light. He knows what it means to sacrifice, and for that I believe he and Buffy deserve each other. I don’t know where their relationship will go, but I do know where I hope it goes.

I can't help but feel like right here, they're both home.

Thanks for bearing with a very, very long post on this subject! With eight seasons of material to go through, Spike and Buffy’s relationship takes up some serious space.

I want to hear what you think! How do you feel about Spike? What do you think will happen when Buffy’s done baking?

Cookie Dough Part 2: Buffy and Riley

Ah.

The Buffy boyfriend everyone loves to hate.

When we meet Riley as Buffy drops a book on his head, he seems a bit doofy.

That book. Ouch. Image via fanpop.com

He glosses right over Buffy’s presence to talk to Willow — when they meet next, he recalls her only as “Willow’s friend.” In spite of the forgetful beginning (blame it on the book concussion), the two keep getting thrown together, and after Riley punches Parker for making a crack at the expense of Buffy’s dignity, it becomes pretty obvious that Iowa boy Riley has an eentsy crush on the Slayer.

What isn’t evident at their first meeting is that Riley, in all his Teutonic charm, is a member of a secret military organization called the Initiative that keeps demons in cages to test them in mazes, teach them tricks, and cut them open to put chips in their heads.

After Angel — and her brief stints with Scott and Parker — Buffy’s looking for normal. At least she thinks so.

She and Riley begin to date, both frustrated by their respective secret identity crises. When their more dangerous sides come to a silent standoff in “Hush,” they are rightly stunned. As does the rest of Buffy’s normal, her fuzzy relationship crashes right smack into her calling. It takes some serious finagling for that little seed of love to germinate while an uber-freaked Buffy tries to grind it under her heel, but when it does, Riley and Buffy ignite.

Rawr. I think "rawr" is the appropriate term. Image via aufeminin.com.

As the Initiative begins to show the festering rot inside, Riley’s world crumples with it. He anchors himself to Buffy — head over heels.

Riley sticks around into season five, but it’s clear that this smitten kitten’s love is one-sided. Riley’s need to feel needed drives him to endanger himself over and over, first by rashly patrolling alone and then by becoming a willing, walking blood bank for vamps.The best decision he makes is to leave. While in many ways he is a stable, normal guy in spite of his knowledge of government conspiracies and the underbelly of the demon world, Riley can’t seem to manage to really overcome traditional gender roles with Buffy.

Soooo this seems like a good alternative?

He struggles with her being much more physically strong than he is, and he also is upset by her self-sufficient nature. Buffy seldom goes to anyone for comfort or help — though even during her relationship with Riley, she begins to seek out Spike — and Riley wants to be there for her. Which is, you know. Hard to do if she doesn’t open up. Part of the blame for that is on Buffy, but Riley ultimately cannot handle Buffy’s lifestyle. He later finds a human wife who is a Buffy more on his level — she’s bold and daring, strong and capable, but she’s also open and human.

A good team, but boy is it awkward when your ex shows back up married after less than a year.

As Spike put it so aptly, Buffy needs a little monster in her man. By definition, the Slayer line is a little bit dark magic, a little bit demony. Buffy has to regularly face not only the smash and crash beastie kills, but also the darkest philosophical and theological aspects of her world. Riley isn’t cut out for that. He’s a great demon hunter, but having to know the plural of apocalypse throws him.

As much as Buffy says she wants normal, Riley evidences that Buffy and normal are…non-mixy things. Buffy is the Slayer. She is preternaturally strong, sometimes telepathic, has prophetic dreams, and has died twice. This is not normal. She needs someone who understands the darkness of the world but rises above it. She needs someone with supernatural abilities and strengths to balance her own. While Riley is “the whole package,” that package is addressed to someone not Buffy Summers.

Stay tuned for a look at the tumultuous turned tender relationship of Buffy and Spike.

What did you think of Riley? Did you hate him with Buffy or love him? Both? 

Cookie Dough Part 1: Buffy and Angel

The first time I ever watched through Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I inadvertently started mid-way through season five. In some ways, I think that affected how I think about several aspects of the show. I thought Dawn was obnoxious but grew to love her, and I’ve always been firmly in the “Buffy belongs with Spike” camp. There’s probably a book in this discussion, but as I’m busy writing fiction at the moment, I’ve decided to tackle it here.

So here we begin. At the start. At Buffy’s first love.

The Basics

Buffy and Angel meet in a dark alley, with Angel following her to warn her of the Master’s imminent plan to escape from his underground lair and, well, take over the world. Their chemistry is quickly evident, and by episode seven, they share their first kiss — a kiss that reveals Angel’s rather bumpy fangy side. Aside from the obvious irony of a slayer and a vampire falling for one another, Angel happens to be the quintessential vampire.

Born with the name Liam in 1727 in Galway, Ireland, Liam was sired by Darla in 1753 and changed his name to Angelus. He was notorious as the single most dangerous and brutal vampire in the world — he and Darla cut a swathe through Europe until Angelus murdered the prized daughter of a Roma tribe in 1898 — and the gypsies cursed him with the one thing they thought would make him suffer for his crimes. A soul.

For a hundred years, Angel wandered until a demon named Whistler showed up and pointed him on the way to his redemption — and toward a tiny blonde cheerleader who was about to be called as the new slayer. When Angel arrived in Sunnydale, he’d already been bitten by the big lovey-dovey bug, and it didn’t take Buffy long to reciprocate.

The "mrow" factor is a little dampened by the whole "after this, I'll try to eat your friends" thing. Image via buffyandangelmusicvids.webs.com

The Blossoming

As Buffy puts it, it’s tough to date a guy when he only shows up once a month and says, “Honey, there’s a big evil a-brewin’!” In spite of that little hiccup, they form a relationship. Despite the underlying warnings we see from Jenny Calendar that Buffy’s presence threatens the curse that keeps Angel ensouled, Buffy doesn’t know it, and their relationship becomes more and more physical into season two until the inevitable occurs.

Buffy and Angel make love, which turns out to be the catalyst for Angel to reach a moment of pure happiness — and lose his soul. When Buffy wakes in the morning, Angel is gone, reverted to Angelus. In what can only be described as one of the worst possible scenarios for losing one’s virginity, Angelus doesn’t just dump Buffy. He begins to terrorize her friends, her family, and he murders Jenny Calendar before trying to raise the demon Acathla and destroy the world.

Not the best step forward in a relationship, sending your boyfriend to a hell dimension. Image via buffy.wikia.com

Buffy is forced to kill the man she loves moments after Willow succeeds in returning Angel’s soul. When Angel is miraculously returned to Earth in season three, Buffy hides his return from everyone — including from Giles, whom Angel tortured nearly to death. When the secret comes out into the open, Angel and Buffy resume their relationship only to realize that they cannot be together.

Buffy reacts like…well, a teenager. At least at first. But she soon realizes that Angel is right — they have no future together. Over the next few seasons, they have a few tumultuous interactions, including one where Buffy crosses over onto Angel when he becomes human. For one day, they are able to explore their relationship until Angel realizes that he has to sacrifice his happiness if he wants to be a champion and asks the Powers That Be to take back the day.

In season seven, they have a conversation right before Buffy takes on The First, where she says she’s cookie dough. Not done baking yet — but that she does sometimes think about who she might end up with. Angel acts like he thinks he and Buffy could be together, even though at that point his love (Cordelia) is in a coma. This dynamic of “maybe we could be together” continues into season nine, but Buffy is the one who finally makes the definitive choice — realizing that she and Angel could never work out.

One of the sweeter scenes in the entire series. Image via buffy.wikia.com

The Bones

There are heaps of people who are hardcore believers in Buffy and Angel’s relationship. Even when I first watched it, I couldn’t hold to it. There are many factors that make this relationship prohibitive, as deep and affecting as it is. There is nothing that compares to a first love, but few people ever end up with that person. More than anything else, that’s what I feel is the core of the Buffy and Angel relationship. Angel is Buffy’s first love, but while normal people have more mundane reasons for first loves not working out (distance, growing apart, college), for Buffy and Angel their reasons had wide-ranging effects.

They cannot have sex. For the vast majority of people, sex is an integral part of a successful romantic relationship. If Buffy and Angel ever have sex, he loses his soul and goes more evil than Darth Vader without his fuzzy Anakin side.

For all his age, Angel has severe difficulties letting go of Buffy. Though he removes himself from her life, he keeps nosing back in when he thinks it’s appropriate — something that causes more than a few problems for Buffy’s relationships and her own emotional state. She tries to move on, but he doesn’t let her. Granted, there are moments when she does the same, but their interactions take it beyond romanticism into the proverbial kicking of a dead horse.

Ultimately, the 800-pound gorilla in the relationship is the fact that Angel has been cursed with a soul. While he is what’s on the outside, Angelus is always within wanting out. Angelus wants Buffy dead. Angel is a walking duality, and half of his being wants to kill the woman his other half purports to love. That is the biggest and most compelling reason they can never work. There is always the risk that Angel can lose his soul and turn evil.

Angel’s goodness is forced upon him, and even ensouled, he tends to make decisions that not are not only self-serving but often downright malicious, such as when he locks Wolfram and Hart’s lawyers into a wine cellar with a very pissed off Darla and Drusilla. Even with a soul, Angel has a darkness that prohibits him from having healthy relationships — and he is virtually incapable of having any fully realized romantic relationship because of the risk of him losing his soul.

Their relationship is a metaphor for many abusive relationships — the abuser is kind and loving, romantic and passionate until something sets him or her off. In their case, it’s sex. Suddenly a switch is flipped, and the abuser becomes a completely different person. Jealous and angry, unpredictable and violent. You cannot be with a person that has those two sides — it doesn’t work for anyone.

Buffy and Angel’s relationship is the epitome of a first love, with all the pain and and passion that entails. It also shows how much people yearn for that love, how strong the desire is to make it work even when everything screams that it can’t. As much as both of them wish it could work, there are too many reasons that Angel and Buffy can never be together. Their relationship is often unhealthy and plagued with distrust on both sides. And so Buffy’s words to Angel in season seven remain true: she’s still cookie dough.

I want to know what you think. Do you think Buffy and Angel have a legitimate chance to one day work it out? If so, have you read season nine? Who do you want to see Buffy end up with?

Stay tuned for Cookie Dough Part 2: Buffy and Spike!

Evil Evoking Sympathy: How the Mayor Won Hearts

If there is anything that makes Joss Whedon stand out even more than he already does, it’s his ability to make complex antagonists who manage to create a laundry list of emotions in viewers. Being a huge fan of Buffy and Angel (I’ve even read all the comic continuations of the series), the Big Bad who stands out to me most after all these years is Mayor Wilkins.

The man speaks the truth. Image via buffyandangeltrainspotters.com

When we first meet the mayor (or hear of him, rather), there is an aura of mystery and danger about him. Whenever Principal Snyder mentions him, it’s in an almost reverent tone. When Mayor Wilkins comes on screen, we see that he has some serious quirks.

He hates germs. He regularly comments to his aide about cleanliness, going so far as to ask if one of them washed under his fingernails. He is also polite and friendly to almost everyone in a genteel, Leave It To Beaver sort of way. All of that is well and good, but his real moment happens when Faith turns to his side.

Faith Lehane is a troubled young woman. While some people might argue with this statement, I think her sexuality is the only part of her life that she has under control. She decides who she sleeps with and when, and it seems to be the only elective she has. Faith is a Slayer called after Kendra died, but Buffy is still head honcho. Though Faith is technically the continuation of the true Slayer line, she is forced to play second fiddle to Buffy. She has different methods and a very different background. No family, no friends, no real connections after she saw her Watcher murdered.

Until she meets the Mayor.

He sets her up in a fabulous loft apartment with exposed brick and a blue color scheme I can’t help but envy. Gaming equipment galore. For a girl from Southie who grew up in poverty, this is the big cahoona. One of their early exchanges begins to set the tone of their relationship when she thanks him for the apartment.

Faith: Thanks, sugar daddy.

Mayor: Now, Faith. You know I don’t like that. I’m a family man. Now, let’s kill your little friend.

Not her normal look.

From that moment, their relationship becomes familial. From the pink dress he gives her to wear to his Ascension to the glasses of milk he offers her to drink, his affection for her is clear even as he plots to become a full-blooded demon snake and eat Sunnydale’s class of 1999. Together they conspire to make Angel lose his soul, and the Mayor acts like Angel is a date coming to his house to take out his daughter.

He calls her his little firecracker and gives her gifts. Even though he’s evil, his love for Faith is evident — especially when Faith shoots Angel with a poisoned arrow and the only antidote is the blood of a Slayer.

Buffy goes after Faith with Faith’s prized knife as her weapon, and she manages to nearly gut Faith, giving her a beating that puts her in a coma.

The Mayor’s reaction to this makes you forget that he is evil. While standing in her ruined apartment, he repeats over and over, “She’ll be all right. Faith’s a good girl. She’ll be all right.” He finds her comatose in the hospital. Racked with crippling pain, he tries to smother an unconscious Buffy in the adjacent room, roaring at everyone, “Did you see what she did to my Faith?”

His love for Faith becomes his downfall, the humanizing element that gets him where Buffy needs him once he becomes the giant snake.

Their relationship is expounded upon in flashbacks in season four, dreams in Faith’s mind while she slumbers. You see more love and normalcy and Buffy painted as the villain who destroyed Faith’s family. When Faith wakes, she finds a video he left her along with the gadget that allows her to switch bodies with Buffy in “Who Are You?” Even later, in season seven, the First Evil is able to manifest to Faith as the Mayor, and you see that connection revived.

Through all the spider eating and baby tributes to demons, the Mayor is a fully-realized villain and one of the best I’ve ever seen. He evokes feelings of fury and pity alike, and if you’re like me, you ached for him when Faith was lying in that hospital. Their relationship is one of the show’s most poignant, and in spite of their poor decision-making, you relate to them.

For that, Mayor Wilkins is today’s Monday Man and the first in a series of posts about the Big Bads of Buffy. To a fascinating villain and a guy who loves his calcium and Little Women, this one’s for the Mayor.

 

She Saved the World A Lot

I am a writer. As such, I believe in the power of fiction to be a vehicle for truth, change, and inspiration. Today’s post is a tribute to just that — to a remarkable woman of fiction who has inspired women around the world and continues to do so years after her creation.

This woman changed the face of television’s portrayal of women. She showed the world that a tiny blonde can do more than run upstairs while chased by a murderer and die in the first five minutes of a horror flick. She showed the world that a woman can do more than just get rescued. She showed the world that a woman can live a life of honor and self-sacrifice.

She showed the world that a woman can transcend tradition.

She showed the world that a woman can be a hero.

If my epitaph ever said that, I would be proud indeed. Image via buffy.wikia.com

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a fighter. I’d play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with my friends in preschool — but one boy would always make me be April. “You’re a girl. You have to be April.”

I thought April was stupid. All she did was get rescued. I wanted to be Michelangelo or Donatello. Or Leonardo or Rafael. I did not want to be April. I wanted to kick Shredder’s butt. All the boys said girls couldn’t fight. They said girls couldn’t rescue boys — that was the boys’ job.

When I was about eight, I discovered a movie called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. To my eight-year-old eyes, it didn’t seem as campy as it does to my now-27-year-old eyeballs. Here was a girl who could fight. Here was a girl who kicked butt. When the show came out when I was twelve, I didn’t watch it because I thought it wouldn’t be as good as the movie. It wasn’t until my sophomore year in college that I moved in with a girl named Casey and plunked down to watch season five on DVD.

Before Buffy Summers became the Slayer, she was the popular girl. She was a cheerleader, a Fiesta Queen, and she had the perfect life — with the exception of the growing arguments between her parents. Then one day, some middle-aged guy showed up and told her she was chosen to fight the vampires. And that she was the only one who could do it.

After a suitable series of “SHUT UP!” and “Yeah, right” reactions, Buffy came face to face with a few vampires, and her new calling got real. Fast forward about a year. Buffy moves to Sunnydale with her newly divorced mother. She starts high school after having been expelled for burning down the gym at her last one. She has lost every bit of security in her life — her mother pours herself into opening a gallery, mostly ignores Buffy, and reads too many pop parenting books.

No midriff top today.

Buffy doesn’t want to slay vampires in Sunnydale. It ruined her life in L.A. Landed her in a mental institution for two weeks. But when she discovers that an ancient vampire is seeking to break free of his mystical prison? She hunts him down even though a prophecy slates her to die at his hands. She risks her life — and loses it.

That should be game over, right? Except the Master made a mistake and dropped her in water. Instead of him killing her, he let her drown — and Xander is able to resuscitate her. When Buffy goes after the Master, she crushes him and stops him from opening the Hellmouth.

As the seasons progress, Buffy matures. Though she longs for a shot at normalcy, she never gives up on her duty or her calling. Although she makes mistakes along the way, the vast majority of them are honest ones. Buffy falls in love with Angel, a vampire who has showed up in Sunnydale to help her. He’s different than other vampires — he has a soul. He’s trying to atone for his past, and they fall hard. Buffy is a hero, but she is also a young woman. What is masterful about her character is the marriage between her weighty calling and her desire for the same things everyone desires: love, acceptance, friendship, family. Her relationship with Angel may be supernatural, but it tells a very human story of a young woman who is mature beyond her years falling in love with a much older man who, after making love to her, becomes unrecognizable. When Buffy and Angel have sex, Angel loses his soul and reverts to the monstrous vampire who terrorized Europe for two centuries. He decides to try and end the world, which forces Buffy into a nightmarish struggle. Although Willow is able to restore Angel’s soul, it happens too late. And Buffy has to kill her first love to prevent the world from getting sucked into hell.

Absorb that for a moment. Can you imagine having to make that choice? Can you imagine putting a sword through the heart of someone you love more than anything on earth? Buffy goes to the darkest possible place in that moment, and although few people every live out that reality, the allegory there is poignant and affecting: sometimes your first love turns out to be something other than you expected and you have to make a wrenching decision to cut them loose before your world crumbles around you and you lose yourself in your own personal hell.

In that moment, Buffy takes her heroism to a new level of sacrifice. As the series progresses, Buffy shows remarkable strength and newfound confidence as she continues to battle the world’s demons. She is compassionate and kind. She helps people who can’t repay her and who never even know who to thank. At her senior prom after the re-ensouled and resurrected Angel has dumped her, her classmates say this about her:

This is actually a new category. First time ever. I guess there were a lot of write-in ballots, and, um, well, t-the prom committee asked me to read this. “We’re not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t noticed you. We don’t talk about it much, but it’s no secret that Sunnydale High isn’t really like other high schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here.”
Student #1: Zombies!
Student #2: Hyena people!
Student #3: Snyder!
[people chuckle]
Jonathan: “But whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you or helped by you at one time or another. We’re proud to say that the class of ’99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history, and we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class offers its thanks and gives you, uh, uh, this.”
[Jonathan produces a gold, glittering, miniature umbrella with a small metal plaque attached to the shaft]
Jonathan: It’s from all of us, and it has written here, “Buffy Summers, Class Protector”.

Through the series, Buffy battles everything she comes up against. She shows such true commitment and love that she even gets through to a vampire without a soul — Spike. Before he knows why, he falls in love with her. Though his methods are often humorous and awkward, he tries to show it by protecting her sister and having tea with her mother. At the end of season five, Buffy is again faced with a choice. She can allow her sister to die to save the world, or she can use her own blood to pay that price.

Three guesses what Buffy chooses. For the second time in the series, Buffy gives her life to save her family, her friends, and the world. She does it without a second thought. She does it with a look of pure knowledge and understanding.

Buffy lives a life of violence. She is a fighter. She takes punches — and sometimes even her own stake to the gut — and she always fights, no matter how bleak things look. She keeps trying and trying. I’ve heard people call her whiny, but I’ve never seen that. If she ever wants a break, wants a moment’s respite from the burden she carries — it’s a lot less than most people in her situation. She’s experienced sexual violence and came out of it somehow stronger. That moment also catapulted Spike into a decision to seek out a way to get his own soul back — not to win her over, not to prove a point, but to be a better man. To be a man who wouldn’t hurt the woman he loves, even if she never loves him back.

And Buffy? She sees the change in Spike. She finds it within herself to forgive him. There are many things in Buffy’s character that make her truly extraordinary, and that is one of them. Buffy champions Spike for the rest of the show, and I for one believe that her actions don’t show recklessness or a disregard for the safety of others — no. They show a belief in people, that people can rise above their pasts and their own demons and be better. That people can change. And that when they do, they deserve a chance to make amends.

They put the spark in me, and all it does is burn. Can we rest now, Buffy? Can we rest?

Buffy makes many choices throughout the seven years of the show. She has her feelings about things, her hunches. And oddly, her friends often don’t believe her — much to their detriment. She makes the best possible decisions with the information she has, and she understands that in war — especially a war against hell itself — there will be casualties. Yet she feels each one. She carries them with her. When she has the chance to share her power, Buffy makes another sacrifice. She chooses to share her calling, share her strength and power with the world. That is the mark of a true leader — a leader who could consolidate their power and hold it jealously but chooses instead to share it.

Tomorrow I will talk about my real life heroes. I will take you on a journey of women who have changed my life and have changed the world, but I believe inspiration can also be found in fiction.

Buffy Summers is this week’s Wednesday Woman. Buffy Summers is my hero.

Into the mouth of hell.

So here’s the part where you make a choice. What if you could have that power, now? In every generation, one Slayer is born, because a bunch of men who died thousands of years ago made up that rule. They were powerful men. This woman is more powerful than all of them combined. So I say we change the rule. I say my power, should be *our* power. Tomorrow, Willow will use the essence of this scythe to change our destiny. From now on, every girl in the world who might be a Slayer, will be a Slayer. Every girl who could have the power, will have the power. Can stand up, will stand up. Slayers, every one of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?

 

Wednesday Woman: Cordelia Chase

Again, I warn thee: here there be SPOILERS!

Noticing a trend with my Monday Man/Wednesday Woman theme, eh? Yes. I thought I noticed you noticing. I’m building up to the big finish, gentle viewers. Fear not. Stay with me.

Ah.

Cordy. I’m sitting here with a strange little look on my face. I can feel my cheek and lip in a different position than usual just at the mention of her name. She brings back so many funny little memories, no?

"Well, their spelling's improved." - Oz

When we first meet Cordelia Chase, she is the classic high school bitch. (And lest you doubt my choice of label, just ask her. She’ll tell you. See “Rm w/ a Vu”) She takes to Buffy when she finds that Buffy’s from L.A. and can spot a designer bag, but Buffy doesn’t reciprocate when she witnesses Cordelia’s treatment of Willow.

For the first couple seasons, you rarely see too far inside of Cordy’s head. Actually, that’s not true. You see exactly what is inside her head, because whatever is in her head comes right out her mouth. Usually what comes out is less than pleasant, if often funny. Her first humanizing moments come when she starts to fall for Xander — the geeky scourge of her world. Forced together through vampire attacks, psychotic bug man episodes, and some hilarious kissing scenes, they get together. Even then, it’s hard to figure out how she feels about him, because the moment her friends (the quintessential cool kids) get their teeth in her new relationship, Cordelia bails. On Valentine’s Day.

It takes a laugh-out-loud backfiring love spell and a “what stinks?’ look on Harmony’s face, but Cordelia eventually realizes that she can date who she wants. That’s one of her big turning points. She becomes a de facto member of the Scoobies through her relationship with Xander, and her second major human moment comes when she and Oz discover that Willow and Xander have been making with the kissy-kissy behind their backs.

Where do I start with the bad?

If you ever doubted that Cordelia had feelings — and I know you probably did at some point — this scene will jolt you out of it. For once, her entire facade of holding it together crumbles right through the stairs with her and lands on a chunk of rebar. Not only does she have the metaphorical impaling, but poor Cordy had to deal with the real deal as well. For Xander, there’s no coming back from this one.

Cordelia’s acerbic words return in full force for the rest of seasons two and three, and we find that her daddy made “a little mistake on his taxes…for the last twelve years” and lost every penny. Cordelia never had to work for anything in her life, and now she has to work just to make enough to get her prom dress — which she isn’t able to do. Xander pays it off for her, which gives at least a little resolution to their relationship when she thanks him, all warmth and sincerity, at prom.

After she gets to dust a vamp at graduation, the next time we see Cordelia, she’s schmoozing at a party in L.A. She’s got the grin back, she’s got the foot in mouth, she seems to have everything under control — until we discover that the dress she’s wearing is the only one she has. Her tiny, filthy apartment has hot and cold running sludge, and her closest neighbors are cockroaches. She starts to work with Angel, and after the death of their friend Doyle (naturally right as he and Cordy were forming a romantic attachment), she gets Doyle’s head-splitting visions from the Powers That Be.

One season and a really rotten haircut later, Cordelia is barely recognizable. She counsels her friends. She’s gone through a demon pregnancy and more than a few tortuous moments because of the visions — when Wolfram and Hart hire Kal Penn a mystical dude to make her visions manifest physically, she ends up burned, sliced open, and covered in boils. Needless to say, Cordelia changes.

The big hoopla happens when Cordelia is heading to tell Angel how she feels. Did I mention that they were falling for each other? No? Oh. Angel’s feelings start to become evident almost as soon as Angel recovers from his bout of despairy peevishness at the end of season two, but it isn’t until season three that he admits it. They take a long, roundabout route to get to that oceanside bluff, and by then Cordelia has been whisked away to another dimension. To, you know. Get infested with a power-hungry demon entity who wants to take over the world.

Season four makes my head hurt. Cordelia seduces Angel’s now-teenage son and gets pregnant with the entity who has been orchestrating her movements, and when she does finally give birth to Jasmine, she falls into a coma, which more or less ends her character arc for good. Trapped in her comatose state, she stays there until the 100th episode where she seemingly awakes to help Angel battle an old foe and pass on information to help him bring down some big Wolfram and Hart baddies — except that he finds out at the end of the episode that she died that morning.

Cordelia’s development is impressive, but I for one always felt cheated out of it. From the middle of season four, she simply disappeared, the real Cordelia taken over. She had become one of my favorite characters on Angel at that point (who am I kidding, I love them all), and seeing her slowly slip away made that season so relentless and painful to watch.

So here’s to the Cordy we were just getting to know. For that, Cordelia Chase is today’s Wednesday Woman.

Cordelia Chase

Image via Wikipedia

Here’s to you, Cordy.

Monday Man: Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

After some thought and a facepalm, I reckon I should say that THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS! SPOILERY, SPOILERY SPOILERS!

Consider yourself warned.

Another little PSA: Today I defy the laws of physics by being two places at once! That’s right, gentle viewers, you can have a second dose of Emmie over at the lovely Kourtney Heintz’s blog!

My husband and I are watching season three of Angel right now. It’s been a while since I’ve watched it, and one thing that is coming across like someone’s blaring it in an earhorn is how impressive Wesley‘s development really is.

When he first appeared on Buffy the Vampire Slayer as her replacement Watcher when Giles got sacked, he was — in a word — a doofus.

Do I mean doofus? Hm.

Yep. I mean doofus.

From slavering over Cordelia to his horrifically botched handling of Faith when she went rogue, it’s safe to say that he became the utter Emperor of Doofonia. This quote from Giles just about sums it up:

“For god’s sake, man! She’s 18, and you have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone, so would you just ask her to dance and stop all this fluttering about?”

At the end of that season, Wesley and Cordelia shared what was, in my humble opinion, the single most awkward and embarrassing kiss in television history.

Bleeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuuurgh.

With the squishing, and the awkward — ack. No more. No more.

Wesley shows up in season one of Angel ready to prove himself as a rogue demon hunter. He is a man on a quest to redeem himself after being sacked, he is a man chafed by leather, he is…a rogue demon hunter. To which Cordelia responds, “What’s a rogue demon?”

At first, it seems that he will retain his position of comic relief with all his bumbling about. He shares another awkward kiss with Cordy, who unbeknownst to him is just trying to rid herself of the visions passed to her by Doyle, fumbles around, and falls down a lot. He also shows a tendency for slime.

As the show progresses, however, Wesley begins to take initiative. When a couple mobsters show up and demand to see an absent Angel, he plays the role of the vampire with a soul and manages to save a young debutante from being sacrificed to the goddess Yeska by her father (and I thought I had daddy issues). Wesley sustains a couple serious injuries — more than a couple when Faith gets her implements on him — which begins to alter his persona in many ways. He smiles less. He bumbles less. He takes a turn for the serious.

In fact, he begins to become downright dour until the group lands in the demon dimension of Pylea at the end of season two. When they bring back the lovely, zany, wonderful Fred (who is a woman, by the way), it sparks a change in Wesley. His attraction to her is immediately evident. His smile returns when he looks at her, and with the help of the beneficent Cordy, he starts to woo her.

Until, in typical Joss fashion, a misogynistic young man named Billy shows up on the scene who has the power to turn any man into a woman-killer simply by the touch of his hand or blood. When Wes comes into contact with Billy’s blood, he turns on Fred and tries to murder her. Not the best start for a budding relationship.

Following this episode, Wesley’s remorse and grief cripple him. He doesn’t leave his dark apartment for days and almost doesn’t answer when Fred comes to see him. It takes him a very long time to begin to trust himself again. I should mention here that Wesley has a very abusive father who constantly puts him down and denies him any sort of approval or fatherly pride — which clearly plays into his behavior after the Billy episode.

To make matters worse for poor Wes, when he finally does get up the nerve to go for Fred again, she’s already fallen for Gunn. For me, that scene is a little devastating, as much as I adore Gunn and love the dynamics of him with Fred. Wes continues a downward spiral (like every other character on the show, Fred being the possible only exception — Angel went to a much, much darker place than did Buffy). The capstone events are set off when he abducts Angel’s infant son, destroying Angel’s trust — all for a false prophecy that was fed to him.

If there is any time whatsoever that I’ve wanted to screech at my television, this season does it. But ah, the plight of the helpless viewer. Back to Wes.

Wes is betrayed the moment he tries to give the child to Holtz, and he gets his throat slit. Left to bleed out in a park, he realizes his error. Far too late. With Angel’s son whisked away to an unassailable dimension, Angel takes out his fury on Wesley and tries to kill him.

I think I can safely say that this is the lowest point of Wes’s arc.

Wes has a keen conscience and a tremendous sense of moral obligation — it’s exactly that morality that drove him to take Connor from Angel when he feared for Connor’s safety, however sorely he was misled. When faced with the consequences of his actions and the estrangement from his friends and colleagues, Wesley still tries to do right in his way.

Alienated from everyone he loves, he still tries to fight evil and ends up beginning a sexual relationship with one of the lawyers from the Big Bad Law Firm Wolfram & Hart — someone he comes to care for and eventually mourn.

Wesley eventually returns to the team at Angel Investigations after rescuing Angel from his sea-grave where his son imprisoned him (reading this makes me realize just how convoluted that whole plot arc really was), but everything about Wesley’s makeup has changed.

I can’t think of another character on this show whose development is so deeply moving, arresting, and ultimately painful. Through the seasons, Wes was the character I came to care most about. I remember the first time I watched the show, I had to stop partway through season three or four because it hurt too much to watch Wes’s life get decimated.

His actions in the face of such extreme diversity are truly heroic — and for that, Wesley Wyndham-Price is today’s Monday Man. To the underappreciated and beloved bumbler-turned-hero, I salute you.

What do you think about dark characters, gentle viewers? What characters’ transformations have become pivotal to you? Who have you felt for? I wanna know! :)

Mrow.

Monday Man: Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

Monday Man: Spike

It had to happen; you know it did.

At least for me, you cannot discuss the men of the Buffyverse without mentioning Spike. Perhaps without a dissertation on Spike. So dig in, get cozy, grab a cuppa (or a cuppa blood with some Weetabix), and get ready for some serious Spike discussion.

Aside from Buffy, Spike is my all-time favorite character in the series. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a spectacular character development or transformation occur on television. (And Joss Whedon agrees with me — at least that Spike is the best-developed character of the show — so there.)

Born with the name William and later known under the rather ignominious alias of “William the Bloody” — ignominious because it referred to his “bloody awful poetry” — Spike gained his more punkish nickname after Drusilla sired him, showing a proclivity for torturing people with railroad spikes. As the show reveals, even as a young vampire, Spike demonstrates fierce loyalty and protectiveness, as well as a tendency to fall deeply in love. He also attempts to cure his mother’s tuberculosis by siring her — but that unleashes all sorts of mommy issues when she turns on him with some propositions that would make even Oedipus blush. His back story is explained through several seasons in flashbacks, from his lovelorn life as a human poet to how he managed to kill two slayers over the course of his existence.

When Spike entered the scene in Sunnydale, side by side with Drusilla, he was well and truly evil. He came to Sunnydale to get a third slayer notch on his headboard…er, headstone.

Spike became Buffy’s arch nemesis – and later an ally when Angel went the way of the uber-evil and tried to end the world. This shaky alliance paved the way for the events of season four.

If you’ve never watched Buffy, you might be a little glazy-eyed right about now. So I’ll perk up your glazed eyes with some sugary Spike-candy.

You're welcome. Image via nerdreactor.com

What I love about Spike is that he is a demon in a man-suit at first — it takes time and several seasons for the demon to choose to be a man with a demon within. In season four, Spike is caught by the Initiative, a military organization that did experiments on vampires and demons to try and harness their powers to use. The Initiative implants a chip in Spike’s brain that prevents him from biting humans — or even hurting them.

As Spike slowly discovers that he is in love with Buffy, this chip is what plunks him into the role of Dawn’s protector in season five — a role that spawns no little bit of conflict between Buffy and her friends. Spike is still a vampire. He’s still evil at his core — a demon. But he begins to show signs of the man he once was.

His earliest moments of tenderness often involve Dawn. He looks out for her — even if his methods vary from what Buffy finds acceptable. He helps her figure out who she is and where she came from, and he stands up for her when Buffy berates her about it.

Spike’s evolution fascinates me — he is an icon among bad characters who go good. He is the beast who becomes something nobler.

Spike’s interest in Buffy is brought out into the light when he commissions a robot (er, sexbot) made to her likeness, and the Buffybot comes in contact with the Scoobies. Though this is unhealthy and frankly, disgusting, Spike’s emotions for Buffy are real.

He genuinely mourns her when she passes, and he continues to try and fulfill his promise to her to keep Dawn safe. He’s also one of the only people to see the truth of the matter when Willow performs the spell to bring Buffy back. Through season six, their relationship is dysfunctional — he’s the only one at first who understands why she has such a hard time adjusting to being alive again. This relationship hits rock bottom when she leaves him and he attempts to rape her.

If you’re anything like me, you blanched when you read that. For a while, I thought that would be the end of Spike for me. I couldn’t get past it for a time. The scene is traumatic and horrific — and it’s what comes after it that challenges every bit of lore the Buffyverse has about vampires.

Spike is a vampire. By definition in the Buffyverse, he has no soul, no conscience. He is evil. A demon in a man-suit.

But when he tries to rape Buffy, his memory tortures him. He flashes back to it over and over again. He cannot live with what he has done to her. That right there is the utter beauty of his transformation — and why I disagree with assertions of Spike’s selfishness. Following this moment, he travels across the world to seek out a legend. He goes to find a demon who holds the power to restore his soul.

Spike's choice. Image via buffy.wikia.com

I’ve heard people say that Spike did this solely to get Buffy back, but I disagree. He did it because of the guilt he felt after hurting her, to be a better person. He never expected her to want to be with him after what he did to her, but he needed to be a better person. To prove he could be a man instead of a monster.

Spike proved over and over again why he is a worthy character. When it comes to love, I believe he’s better for Buffy than Angel is. Angel at his heart is a man cursed to decency, but his beast is always straining to be free, where Spike’s beast chooses to be decent. In many ways, Angel is a picture of an abuser more than Spike is. When Buffy does the wrong thing (sleeps with him), he turns evil and murderous. When he comes back, he “didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Spike knows he meant to hurt her, believes it because he didn’t have a soul to stop him — and even without a soul he tries to be a better man, even though he often flounders. His speech to Buffy in Touched describes why I love this character’s transformation so much. It shows that he risked everything to be a better man, to give the world the best of himself — and succeeded.

 I’ve been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine, and done things I’d prefer you didn’t. I don’t exactly have a reputation for being a thinker; I follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes. A lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of. You. Hey, look at me. I’m not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you – it has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try… I’ve seen your kindness, and your strength, I’ve seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a woman. You’re the one, Buffy.

I could probably write an entire dissertation on Spike and still have more to say, but this describes why Spike is today’s Monday Man. And forever one of the most phenomenal characters I’ve ever seen.

Monday Man: Spike

A Nice, Quiet Sort of Crazy

Pardon my language in this post.

I have two goals during most of my work shifts. If I work with certain people, that is. One is to make my friend J say, “Goddammit, Emmie.” The second is to make one of my managers go, “Don’t ever do that again.”

It’s a sort of game, and one I often win. The beauty of this game is that I don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary. I simply say what I say or do what I do, and they shake their heads, laugh, and say their lines. Once I counted over five “Goddammit, Emmies” in the course of an evening, and I fancied myself quite a star.

So what sort of behavior inspires such reflections? Well, in a recent sales meeting, my manager told us to put on our game faces. So I growled and grimaced, and he burst out laughing and said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

As for the other, I think J caught me eating a mustard packet once. Not the plastic, mind you, just the mustard bit. He shook his head and said, “Goddammit, Emmie.” I rejoiced.

A lot of people think I’m weird. I suppose I have to be a bit weird to write urban fantasy — or to write at all, for that matter. But in my advancing age, I’ve learned to enjoy my little eccentricities. I say what I say, and I do what I do. Even for those who are used to me, it seems to catch them by surprise most of the time.

The good kind of crazy. Image property of Universal Pictures and Amblin Entertainment

Whilst watching Angel with my spouse the other night, we watched an episode where Fred leaves the group, and Angel sighs and says, “She was a nice, quiet sort of crazy. I found it…soothing.”

I quite liked that line. I wouldn’t mind at all being described as a nice, quiet sort of crazy. Though I write books with a lot of grit and blood, I have taken the mantra of Joss Whedon to heart: “Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.”

What eccentricities do you have, gentle viewers? Do you like your books with a dash of quirk?

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