“I cannot believe he had the nerve to show up here!” Buffy said, breathing heavily as she looked out into the packed church.
“He is Wesley’s cousin,” Cordelia said in amusement, making some last minute touches to her make-up in the small mirror hanging above the guestbook table. “And he is in the wedding.”
“What right does that give him to actually show up?” Buffy replied, obviously past the point of reason as she looked at her friend.
“You should’ve known this would happen,” Cordy said, turning toward the blonde. “Even if it is Faith’s wedding, the girl gets off on chaos. You’re basically related to her and we’ve been friends with her since high school – you should know this.”
“I hope she realizes she’s practically sabotaging her own wedding by doing this,” Buffy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Oh, honey,” Cordy said with a laugh. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
“What? What’re you…” Trailing off when the brunette thrust a program into her chest, Buffy grabbed it and opened it up, her eyes darkening when she read the placement. “Spike’s the Best Man?” she asked, looking at Cordelia incredulously.
“Hence the reason that he’s standing next to Wesley up there,” Cordy said with a giggle. “She probably only made you Maid of Honor to see the fireworks that shoot off when you two get within ten feet of each other.”
“What’s going on?”
Turning around to see her half-sister walking through the front door of the church, Buffy glared at Faith. ‘Wedding day-shmedding day,’ she thought, approaching the other woman.
“Is this the reason you didn’t want to have a rehearsal dinner?” she asked, holding up the program.
Faith rolled her eyes, adjusting her wedding dress as she maintained the same nonchalant tone. “Oh relax, B. It’s not like you ever asked the details of the wedding. You seemed pretty content with your Maid of Honor duties. You didn’t care who you’d be walking with.”
“So you didn’t do this on purpose?” she asked skeptically.
Rolling her eyes a second time, Faith accepted her bouquet from Cordelia as her other bridesmaids began to line up. “Yes, I purposely went back in time, asked Spike’s parents to bone so that he could be born, become best friends with Wesley, and subsequently ruin my wedding day – for you. Now, will you relax? You two broke up three years ago, you haven’t seen him since, you have never looked hotter, and I would appreciate a very heartfelt ‘thank you’ for putting you in a dress that will have him and every other man in that church – besides Wesley – wishing that they could screw you.”
Looking down at the navy blue silk dress with the sweetheart neckline that showed a generous amount of cleavage, held up by two slender spaghetti straps, Buffy took a deep breath. Faith was right. She was just being paranoid.
“Places.”
Buffy glanced over at the wedding coordinator, breathing deeply as she took the bouquet of lilies from the woman.
“You’re on,” Faith said with a smile. “Oh, and B?” she called out, waiting until Buffy turned around before continuing, “Don’t start a fight when you get down there.”
Buffy glared at the other woman for a moment before turning and pasting a bright smile on her face as the coordinator opened the doors. The aisle seemed to go on forever. Buffy walked at a measured pace, trying her best to keep a genuine smile on her face. Her best friend was getting married – she wanted to be happy for her.
Approaching the front of the church, Buffy nearly shuddered when she remembered the coordinator’s words to them as they were getting dressed.
“When you reach the front of the church, the groomsman you are to be paired with will meet you to escort you up the few steps to the stage, ensuring that you don’t trip.”
Her blood ran cold as she saw Spike approaching her, looking every part the gentleman as he smiled kindly and offered his arm. Only Buffy could see the hint of a smirk behind that smile. The way his eyes briefly looked her up and down as he approached her. The way he pulled her in close to his side when she accepted his arm.
Buffy avoided his eyes as she walked up the steps, taking her place, shivering when Spike leaned over to her, his breath on her ear.
“You look stunning, love.”
Finally looking up into his eyes, Buffy took a deep breath as he winked at her before walking away from her to take his place next to Wesley.
* * * * *
“See? Now, that wasn’t so bad,” Cordelia said, sipping on her glass of champagne as the two girls watched Wesley and Faith dance. “You managed to let Spike touch you, not once but twice, and you’re both still alive with no visible scarring to be seen.”
Buffy merely nodded, looking into her glass, watching the liquid swirl around.
“Okay, I’ve seen that face before. What gives?”
“It’s nothing,” Buffy said with a sigh, looking up and smiling when Wes dipped Faith on the dance floor, both of them laughing and obviously in love. Raising her eyes to the crowd on the other side of the room, her body straightened when she saw Spike staring at her, his date clinging to his arm as he watched her.
Looking away, Buffy tried not to show how affected she was about the situation.
“You still have feelings for him, don’t you?”
“What? No,” Buffy insisted, shaking her head as Cordelia arched a perfectly-sculpted brow in her direction. “No. Of course not. Don’t be absurd,” Buffy continued, struggling to find the right words as she shook her head. “Maybe a little,” she finally admitted grudgingly, biting her lip as she looked at the floor.
“Ever thought about telling him?”
“What’s the point?” Buffy asked, looking up at Cordy for a moment before risking a glance across the room, seeing Spike currently dancing with his date. “He’s the one who wanted to broaden his horizons. Looks like he’s succeeding, judging by Little Miss Skank that he brought with him.”
“She does need some serious grooming tips,” Cordy said, wrinkling her nose as she took in the other woman’s hair and the dress that wasn’t appropriate to wear to a nightclub, least of all a wedding.
“He made it pretty clear that he was more interested in making partner at the firm by the time he was thirty than working on a relationship with someone he claimed to love. I didn’t measure up then and I don’t now,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“Buffy Summers, I’m ashamed to hear you speak that way about yourself!” Cordelia chastised. “You are strong, you’re successful, and I’ll be damned if you turn into the same women you were three years ago. This Buffy would never let a man walk all over her.”
“I’m not the same little girl who walked into something with her eyes closed,” Buffy said, turning toward her friend. “This time, I’m walking away with my eyes opened. Speaking of,” she said, handing Cordelia her untouched glass of champagne. “I should really get going. I have a column due on Monday.”
“Buffy, it’s not even nine o’clock on a Saturday night. You’re leaving one of your best friends, not to mention your sister, on her wedding day when you’re Maid of Honor so you can go wallow about your relationship loves and losses at your apartment? I don’t think so. You’re going to stay here and you’re going to shake your booty and make an ass out of yourself just like the rest of us when every YMCA or Electric Slide song comes on.”
“Somehow I can’t imagine you out there making an ass out of yourself,” Buffy replied with a raised eyebrow.
“For my friends on their wedding day, I’m willing to have fun at all costs,” she replied with a smile.
“Alright,” Buffy admitted with a smile. “No leaving for Buffy. But I do need some air.”
“If you sneak out on-”
“I promise I won’t,” she insisted, grabbing the shawl that matched the navy blue fabric of her dress and slipping it around her arms, giving Cordelia a kiss on the cheek, careful not to smudge their make-up in the process. “I’ll be back to make a fool out of myself in no time.”
“You better.”
Buffy smiled as she walked toward the French doors at the back of the reception area, bypassing the full bar as she stepped outside, letting the cool night air soothe her troubled nerves and wash over her heated skin.
Cordelia was right. She had changed over the years. Spike’s rejection of her when she was at her most vulnerable in their relationship shouldn’t still plague her. But it did.
She had been willing to give him everything she had and instead he’d left her behind to pursue what he thought of as bigger dreams. And he’d done it. Buffy had cried when she heard that he’d made partner in his firm two years after they’d split. At twenty-eight years old, it was a nearly unprecedented feat. She’d been proud of him – after all, if it weren’t for that goal, they’d still be together, but at the same time… if it weren’t for that goal, they’d still be together.
Pulling her shawl more firmly around her body, she shuddered as a cool gust of wind swept over her.
She’d been successful in her own right. Her very own column in one of the leading women’s magazines in the country. She’d come a long way from the unsure, naïve college graduate she’d been when Spike had fallen into her life. Headstrong, arrogant, and knowing what he wanted, Buffy had fallen head-over-heels in a matter of weeks. She’d thought they would be together forever until the day when he’d shown up at her house, overworked and stressed. She’d tried to get him into her bedroom, hoping that just holding him in her arms would be enough. She knew something was wrong, but he’d hung back, leaning against the doorframe, his head resting against the wood as he’d watched her perch precariously on the edge of her bed.
She remembered the way his eyes had scanned the room, probably taking in the girlish pink walls, the stuffed animals that sat in the corner, the white furniture. In hindsight, she’d realized that he probably thought of her as too immature. With a tentative column slated once a week in the local newspaper, her goals weren’t as high as his. She was still very much the girl she’d been in high school and college, even though he hadn’t known her then, while he was working seventy to eighty hours a week on average, constantly trying to push his body to ninety so he could have the edge over the older associates.
She knew what he’d seen when he looked at her that night. Sitting amidst the flowery patterns and stuffed animals, she was a little girl playing dress-up in a world of adults. In his eyes, she’d never be the wife to the partner of one of the largest law-firms in California. And if, in time, she could be that person, she’d never turn into her in the few years that he’d set for his goal.
So he’d left her.
Broken her heart as tenderly and easily as he could, still ripping it out and shattering it in the process, and walked out of her life. She’d cried for days, constantly second-guessing herself, wondering what she’d done wrong. It wasn’t until Cordelia and Faith had forced her to get up and get back out in the world did she see the naïve little girl she truly was.
And she’d changed.
She’d turned into the woman who could be wanted for something more than a warm bed or the occasional moral support. But she’d never sought out Spike. She got the occasional update on him from Faith through Wesley, but she had her own life now. A life where the little girl in her was still too recently wounded by the man she loved to consider crawling back to him. She wouldn’t lower herself to seeking out someone who didn’t want to be with her. The pain in her heart was still too fresh to let go of her pride.
But those weren’t the memories that hurt the most. It was the softer ones. The ones that came to her when she was alone at night that nearly had her teetering on the edge of a breakdown that first year.
The recollection of being firmly wrapped in his arms, her head pillowed against his chest as they watched a movie on her beat-up couch. The way he’d absently reached for her hand anytime they were in public as if he needed the reassurance that she was still beside him. The way his lips barely brushed against hers, the feeling of his breath on her skin while he made love to her.
Those were the memories that hurt the most.
“This a private party or can anyone join?”
Not surprised to hear his voice behind her, Buffy tightened her shawl around her body, standing up a little straighter as she looked into the blackness where the gardens were bathed in shadows at that time of night.
“No need to join,” she said, turning more fully away from him and walking down the stairs that led to the gardens. “You can have your party all on your own. It’s what you’re best at.”
Spike grimaced at the tone of her voice, clenching his jaw as he watched her walk away from him. He’d been waiting for this moment for three years, knowing that when they finally came face-to-face again, she wouldn’t be the same little passive girl that he had once known.
Wesley had been kind enough to not tell him that Buffy would be in the wedding. He should’ve known, being that she was Faith’s half-sister, but from the snippets of conversation that he’d heard from his friend, it had sounded like she would be too busy with work to attend. Devious bastard.
* * * * *
Buffy wandered along a path in the garden, trying to stay numb as she desperately tried to think of anything or anyone but Spike. Closing her eyes after a few minutes, she sighed heavily, shaking her head, knowing that it would be better to turn around and go home. What Cordelia didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Turning onto a different path, she walked toward the lights of the Clubhouse, intent on getting her purse out of the coatroom and getting as far away from this place as she could.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
Buffy jumped, breathing heavily at the voice behind her. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head toward the ground, biting her lip for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But stop following me.”
“Was just sitting here having a smoke, Goldilocks,” he said, finally causing her to turn around, seeing Spike sitting on the edge of the small fountain that she’d walked past without a second look. “Was you who stumbled in my path.”
“Not on purpose,” she shot back. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your way before you know it.”
“Buffy!” he called, standing up when she stopped. “I haven’t seen you in years - can we just-”
“And whose fault is that?” she cried, spinning around to face him, anger flashing in her eyes. “You’re the one who cut me out of your life! I didn’t add up to your perfect goals, remember?”
“Listen-”
“I’ve listened to you enough,” she said, taking a step back when he moved toward her. “Why don’t you go back to the whore you brought with you – I’m sure she fits into your life much better than I ever could,” she said sarcastically.
“I told you, it doesn’t mean anything,” he said, moving even closer to her.
“Just like me, then? How sweet,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she walked away.
“You meant everything, Buffy. I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, matching her stride, trying to get her to look at him.
“I imagine you didn’t,” she said, feeling her anger grow. “A woman who practically lived for you – to please you – that was your perfect setup. Too bad you didn’t realize it until it was too late.”
“Is that really what you think?” he asked, grabbing her arm.
Buffy looked away from his gaze, not wanting to tell him that she knew it wasn’t true. Knowing that she’d crack if she had to stand next to him much longer. “I think that you don’t like making mistakes,” she said, finally looking into his eyes, nearly shrinking back when she felt her heart begin slamming in her chest.
“I don’t,” he agreed quietly, cupping her chin in his hand. “And I made one when I walked away from you.”
Buffy rapidly blinked back the tears in her eyes. “Nice to know you realize it,” she said quietly, pulling away from his grasp and walking down the path.
“Buffy, don’t leave like this…”
“What do you want, Spike?” she asked, spinning around to face him. “Closure? You have it. Have a nice life with whoever’s not me.”
* * * * *
Walking into her apartment, Buffy tossed her keys on a nearby end-table, quietly shutting the door behind her. She’d successfully convinced Cordelia that she was sick - not exactly a stretch, considering the nausea coursing through her – said her good-byes and congratulations to Faith, and walked away from the reception with a heavy heart.
Pulling the pins out of her hair, she sighed heavily, wondering if she’d made a mistake with Spike. Shaking her head at the thought, she slowly stripped off the dress as she walked toward her bedroom, carefully hanging it in her closet before grabbing a pair of short shorts and sliding them on with a tank top.
Wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a schmaltzy movie – or maybe one where a lot of guys got blown up – Buffy ran a brush through her hair, jumping when she heard a knock on the door.
Walking through the apartment, she pulled it open, leaning against the doorframe and rolling her eyes a moment later. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Just want to talk, love.”
“No, you don’t,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You came here to see how far you could get with me.”
“That’s not-”
Grabbing the collar of his tuxedo jacket, Buffy jerked him into her apartment, kicking the door shut and pushing him against the wall. “Is this what you wanted?” she asked in a low voice, her hands loosening to run over his chest. “You show up at my apartment after three years because you probably think I could fit into your life. You leave your date at the-”
“She’s not my date,” he said forcefully. “I told you she was nothing to me, Buffy, and I meant it. Wes introduced us at the reception and she leeched onto me. I didn’t-”
“Shut up,” she said, pulling him lower until his lips were on hers, surprised when his hands tightened on her arms, pushing her away after a moment.
“I didn’t come here for this,” he said, breathing heavily.
“I don’t give a shit why you came here,” she replied, crushing her lips to his. Whatever reasons he had, she didn’t want to hear them. She just wanted the emptiness and despair to go away for what felt like the first time in three years.
“Buffy,” he whispered against her lips, doing what he could to unsuccessfully push her away, his eyes rolling shut when he felt her warm hand work the zipper of his pants. “Can’t do this.”
“Why not?” Buffy asked, pulling away from him long enough to strip her shirt over her head, seeing Spike’s eyes darken as he looked at her. “I’m not the same little girl anymore, Spike,” she said, sliding her shorts down her legs. “I know what I want.”
Spike stared at her in stunned silence for a moment before shaking his head. “No. I didn’t come here for –- bloody hell, Buffy!” he yelled, his hand flying up to his face, where she had just smashed her fist into his nose.
Grabbing her arms, he pulled her to him, trying not to think about the enticing naked body that was currently pressed against him. “What do you want?” he asked, breathing heavily as he looked into her eyes. “This? Me?”
“I want your body,” she said in a cold tone, shaking her head with a sardonic smile. “I couldn’t give a shit about you.”
Spike’s eyes darkened, repressing his anger. “Right,” he said through gritted teeth. “Best have at it.”
Buffy gasped when his lips covered hers in a desperate kiss as he quickly unzipped his pants, pushing her into the wall a moment later. Feeling a mild sense of panic, Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting to create the allusion that she still had control of the situation. Reaching between them, she guided his cock to her entrance, unwilling to question her motives or actions as she thrust her body against his.
Spike pulled back, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face, surprised that she had taken it so far. More surprised that he was buried inside the woman he still loved. Breathing deeply, he slowly eased out of her before pumping in until his hips met hers, allowing him to grind against her clit. Turning toward her, desperately wanting to feel his lips against hers, Spike pulled back as if he’d been slapped when she turned away from him.
“Buffy, look at me,” he said in a harsh tone, watching as she turned to look at him, her face betraying hurt and pleasure. “Is this the way you want it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when she pushed his jacket off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as her hands worked on the buttons of his shirt. Briefly closing his eyes when he felt her hands on his chest, Spike reopened them to see the same indifferent expression on her face.
“I want it exactly like this,” she said calmly, shivering slightly when his eyes narrowed on her.
“Right then,” he said coldly.
Breathing heavily and trying to retain some semblance of control, Buffy moved her hips with his, rising and falling on his cock, using his shoulders for leverage. She gasped a moment later when she felt Spike’s hands grip her hips in a bruising hold, pushing her against the wall as he plunged into her.
Spike practically slammed his hips against hers when he felt her teeth grazing over his shoulder before she bit down, causing him to nearly lose control. Her inner muscles clenched around him when she felt his fingers twist one of her nipples. “More,” she whispered, seeking her release as he repeated the gesture.
Frantically moving her hips with his, she couldn’t stop the soft cries of pleasure as the base of his cock rubbed her swollen clit with every thrust.
Spike could feel her trembling against him, knowing that she was close. Torn between the desire to extend this feeling and the one to find some type of closure for the situation he’d unwillingly put himself in, he growled as he bent down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt her fingernails digging into his back.
“More… need… need more… need…”
“What?” Spike asked, pulling away to hear her frustrated moan. “What do you need?” he asked, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Need you,” she whispered, meeting each of his thrusts as she gripped his shoulders, desperately seeking her release.
Slamming against her with as much strength as he dared, he stared into her eyes as she neared her climax. He knew that she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected her. He nearly smiled when he heard her soft words a moment later.
“Spike… ….oh God, Spike… please… please…” Trailing off with a scream, her muscles spasmed around his cock as her body shook with her climax.
Feeling her contracting around him, Spike came with a growl, feeling as if he was exploding as he pulsed inside of her, shuddering against her while tremors raced through him.
Holding her tight against his body, he felt anxious at the idea of letting her go, sighing heavily when Buffy disentangled herself from him.
“We need to talk,” he said quietly, zipping up his pants, not bothering to button his shirt.
“No, we don’t,” she said through clenched teeth. “This was… It was just sex,” she said, hurriedly redressing, no longer feeling comfortable with her nudity.
“I want us to start over,” he said, seeing her spin around to face him, a look of disbelief on her face.
“You can’t be serious,” she said with a breathless laugh.
“We were happy together, Buffy,” he said with a sigh. “I screwed up royally. I know that. But if you’ll let me… I want to make it up to you.”
Looking at him with a mixture of hope and mistrust, Buffy turned away from him before the tears spilled free.
“I could never trust you again,” she whispered in a choked voice, taking a few steps away, feeling the tears sliding down her cheeks when he loosely grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.
“I’m asking you to try,” he whispered, caressing her cheek, wiping a tear away. Feeling panic course through him when he saw her shake her head, he quickly continued, “I won’t make the same mistakes, Buffy,” he said quietly, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ve learned. I can’t lose you again.”
“You don’t have me to lose,” she said in a strained voice.
“I love you,” he said with conviction, taking a deep breath when she looked into his eyes.
“When did you realize that?” she asked, still unsure of what he was doing.
“Years ago,” he replied reflexively.
“Then why did you stay away?” she asked, her chin quivering as more tears continued to fall.
“It killed me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “It was for you… I made a stupid decision because I thought it would be better for you. I felt like I was smothering you, keeping you from things and…”
“And I would’ve stayed in the same place I was,” she filled in, closing her eyes for a moment. “What gave you that right?” she asked, pulling back to look at him. “What gave you the right to make decisions for my life?”
“I’m not making excuses,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m saying that I’m sorry. I made a mistake, Buffy. One that I’ve wanted to fix everyday for more than three years. And now I’m asking you… can I fix this?”
Buffy didn’t say anything for a long moment, trying to rein in her emotions. Taking a step away from him, she watched as Spike’s face seemed to fall, all slivers of hope drifting away. Reaching out, she held her breath as his eyes briefly widened before he took her offered hand, following her over to the couch.
Guiding Spike to sit down, she ignored the confused look on his face, waiting until he was seated before curling up next to him, pillowing her head on his chest, feeling his body relax at the gesture.
Spike gently kissed the top of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. “What’s this mean, then?” he asked softly after a few minutes.
“I don’t know,” Buffy whispered, closing her eyes as he continued the soothing movement of his hand. “Does it have to mean something?”
“No,” Spike replied, shaking his head. “Not now.”
Snuggling closer to him, she listened to the calm lull of his heartbeat, holding onto him as he held her tighter. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, feeling him kiss her again. “It’ll mean something tomorrow.”
Spike smiled, settling into the couch and closing his eyes, never letting go of the woman he loved. “Tomorrow it is.”