Chapter 32: ‘Winning’


Summary: The note sender is revealed as he and Buffy confront each other!


‘WHORE’!

The word glared at Buffy like an angry neon sign, causing her to feel faint.

“What the hell?” she finally was able to mumble, turning the white envelope in her hand over to check the addresses. That’s when she remembered, the letter had been hand delivered, no addresses, no stamp.

Someone had taken the trouble to drop this thing into the Gallery mailbox themselves, but who? Buffy sat down and just stared at the innocent lined paper, unaware that Olivia had rejoined her in the office.

“Buffy?” her boss’s melodic voice broke her trance, “is everything all right?”

She looked up at Olivia, quickly trying to hide the trepidation in her green eyes, “I, uhm, I’m fine, Olivia.”

The letter and evelope were quickly deposited in the little trash can by her desk and Olivia nodded slowly, “okay, Buffy. It’s just, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

With a shake of her blond head, Buffy assured Olivia, again, that she was fine, just a little tired.

“Maybe you should go home, get some rest?” Olivia suggested, but Buffy was adamant about ‘that’ and assured her, she was fine, wanted to stay around awhile.

“Well, alright,” Olivia stammered, “if you’re sure. I’m going to run by home for a while, then I’ll be back to finish up a few things. Just finish going through the mail, you can work on the cataloging tomorrow after I’m gone to Chicago. I wouldn’t leave right now, but my husband is in charge of dinner tonight, some kind of roast, he’s hopeless and if I don’t go home….” She smiled at Buffy and rolled her eyes.

“Of course, Olivia,” Buffy smiled weakly, willing the color in her face to come back, “I’ll be fine. Go on, save the roast.”

This brought a laugh from them both and Olivia grabbed her purse and left the Gallery. As soon as Buffy heard the door close and saw the exit door light flash, she pulled the little note out of the trash can.

“Who?” she wondered nervously.

“Angel?” she whispered, truly frightened. “No,” she assured herself, “too cryptic for my husband, he’s not that creative. Then who?” she asked the empty room, again, a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of her tummy.


Buffy pulled her cell phone out of her purse and debated calling Will, right this minute, then hesitated.

“What’s Will going to be able to do?” she asked herself. “He’ll just go ballistic and start kicking random ass around Sunnydale, because someone had the nerve to call me a whore!”

This actually brought a small smile to her face, “how can I be a whore? We love each other.”

There, she’d said it out loud, once and for all, she loved Will, loved him with all her heart and soul. Now she just needed to tell him to his face, but first, there was this little problem to work out.

Her cell phone began to ring in her hand and she answered it eagerly, hoping it was Will calling her and ready to tell him everything, consequences be damned.

Imagine her surprise when Xander Harris responded to her ‘hello.’

“Xander?” she gasped, “what are you doing, calling me here and now?”

He was silent, “Xander?” she repeated.

“Figured it was the perfect time, Buffy,” he finally spoke, but his tone was off, not warm and friendly at all. “No one’s there but you, right? I mean your boss left, Gallery’s closed for the day, heck even the cleaning crew don’t show up today. This is about as good as time as any for us to ‘talk’ isn’t it?”

Buffy suddenly felt faint again but she pulled herself together and sat up in the chair, “no, Xander, it’s not a good time to talk. Not now, not ever, we’ve talked before, there’s nothing to talk about.”

Again, Xander was silent on the other end then, “oh, but I think it’s the best time to talk, Buff. I know you got my special delivery and I know that you’re more then curious as to why I sent it.”

She didn’t say anything for moment, trying to collect her thoughts, think up the right response to him.

“Xander, I don’t know what you’re playing at, or why, but if this is some kind of game, or threat or whatever, I think you should be aware that….”

Xander interrupted her with a wicked laugh, “don’t even think about threatening ‘me’ Buffy, especially with dropping your fuck buddy’s name. And in case you’re even considering calling that bleached freak you’ve been screwing, don’t bother. I get even a twinge of a sense that Spike is coming after me, or any sense of danger to my body….I’ll have another letter sent out, this time to Angel.”

“Where are you?” she finally asked him, afraid she already knew the answer.

“Right outside your little Gallery, Beautiful. Now, just open the locked back door, quickly, and let me in. We’ll have our heart-to-heart in your office, okay?”

‘God, he sounds so cold, so evil,’ Buffy shuddered violently, feeling ill again.

“You stay as far away from me as possible,” Buffy hissed in warning.


“Oh, don’t worry, bitch,” Xander hissed back, “I wouldn’t touch you now with a ten foot pole. Not after you’ve fucked that punk.”

With a flinch, Buffy did as he told her and unlocked the back door, electronically.


He sauntered through Buffy’s office door, like pompous royalty, ‘finally made it, huh, Xand,’ she thought ruefully, ‘you’re real important now, hold all the cards, right?’

Buffy stood up straight, her arms crossed over her chest, head held high.

“That’s close enough,” she informed him cooly when he’d just stepped inside. She tried to read his chocolate brown eyes from this distance, but they were closed to her, closed and secretive.

“Okay, Xander,” Buffy began with the offense mode, “what the hell is this about?”

Xander just stared at her through narrowed eyes, a look that was not particularly attractive on him, she thought.

“First let me ask you something, Buff?” he countered with a smirk, “when did this ‘thing’ with Spike start? Right after us? Before? Did you break it off with me for him? What?”

Averting her eyes from his, she set down in her chair and drummed her fingers against the desk, nervously, “after,” she lied easily.

“Did you leave me for him?” She couldn’t speak, just nodded her head slightly.

“Why?” he growled, “does Spike have a bigger dick then me, what?”

Buffy fought back the urge to quip, ‘well, actually, yes he does, thank you.’ Instead she just remained mute, staring at her little desk calendar and trying not to panic too much.

“I didn’t leave you, Xander,” she mumbled, still not looking at him, “there was no ‘you and me’ to leave or break off. If you thought it was more then just a casual affair, I’m sorry, it wasn’t. I think you better be aware of something. I caught Angel with another woman, someone we both know; should I tell you who it is?”

Buffy relished the mix of puzzlement and pained look on her now adverary’s face, “I could care less who your precious Angel is fucking around with, Buffy. I only care about who you’re doing these days.”

She stood up and walked around to the front of her desk, sitting on the edge of the wooden frame, “why?” she asked simply.

He shrugged, “let’s just say I’m ‘interested’ for personal reasons.”

Nodding slowly, to bide some time, Buffy pondered her next question. “Okay,” she started, “you wouldn’t come within twenty feet of me because I’m having an affair with Will.”

Xander smirked, “Will? How cute, nicknames. What does he call you? His bitch?”

Buffy tensed up and resisted the urge to knock the shit out of the smirking hulk in front of her.

“Like I said,” she continued through gritted teeth, “you don’t want me anymore, thank God! I get that. So, what’s this about?”

Xander took a step closer to Buffy, who backed hopped off her desk and went back around to her chair.

“Like I said,” she hissed, her own green eyes narrowed into slits, “don’t come any closer to me.”

He seemed to pay attention this time and stopped walking closer to the desk, “okay,” he sighed, “I won’t come nearer. And in answer to your question, ‘this’ is about winning. My winning for once.”

Buffy tilted her head to one side, she just knew she looked like a confused idiot, “what winning, Xander? Winning what?”

The man before her bore little resemblence to the boy she first met in grade school, nothing like the troubled teen she adored in high school and certainly nothing like the man she’d slept with out of revenge just months before this.

“Why did you sleep with me?” he asked suddenly, his eyes bore the same pained look that he had when Buffy had told him they were over. She couldn’t answer that one, she had no quip, smart remark or logical excuse, she just shrugged.

“Was it because of Angel and this woman?” he answered his own question with another one. Buffy nodded, deciding to opt for the truth, this once anyway.

“So,” she hesitated then went ahead and asked boldly, “this is about winning for you? And just what do you win in this Xander?”

He looked down for a minute then responded, “I win justice Buffy, which is better then nothing, I guess.”

Buffy was totally at a loss now, “huh?” she gasped, “what justice?”

Xander looked around and found a chair sitting close by the door, pulling it over to him, he sat down and crossed his legs, almost casually.

“You see, Buffster,” he replied evenly, using the endearment he’d called her in school, “I am a big loser, we all get that. No, don’t try to shake your head and deny it, we all know what a big laughable loser Xander Harris is. Well, then, I got you, finally, after years of pining away for you, worshipping you from afar, all that shit. Anyway, you seduce me, come on now, sweetheart, you know ‘you’ did.”

She had to cop to that, at least internally, she had seduced him, no matter how willing he was to be seduced.

“I had Anya, left her for Willow who left me for Tara. Then you come along, flash those big green eyes at me, beg me to fuck you with them and I fall into your little web of whatever the hell it was. Although, I’m guessing revenge would pretty much describe it, anyway, you dump me. All your ‘I love Angel, we need to work it out, he’s dangerous crap. I really believed it Buffy.”

Buffy was ashamed of herself, ashamed and so much more, however, it didn’t give Xander the right to come in here and spout off about winning, losing and revenge, he had no idea.

“Move this along,” Buffy muttered, hopefully cruelly, “I’m meeting Will in an hour.”

Xander stood up from the chair, “don’t think so, Buffy. You won’t be meeting your precious Will anymore, at least not to fuck him. The next time you meet him, well, it’s gonna’ be your last time.”

She stared at him, shocked, “what are you saying Xander? You’re going to stop me from being with the man I…..”

He began to laugh, “oh, let me guess, you love him, right? You two love each other? That’s just adorable, Buffy, really.”

Buffy didn’t respond, she hadn’t even told Will she loved him, how could she tell Xander or anyone else that first.

“I won’t stop seeing him,” Buffy stated stubbornly, her little chin jutting out with defiance. “I don’t have to, not for you or anyone else.”

Xander finally took the initiative to move closer to her, closing in on her desk and leaning onto it with clenched fists, “you’ll stop seeing him, Buffy. If you don’t I’ll personnally go to Angel and tell him everything about you and Spike. I can just see the expression on his stupid face. Wonder how long it’ll take him to beat the shit out of you and have a hit put out on him? What do you think, an hour, two? You and Spikey aren’t the only ones who ‘know’ your husband, Buffy. He’s pretty well known in some circles and not for his great hair style and good natured personality.”

Buffy sunk back down into her chair, struck by the fear that hearing the truth can bring. Xander smiled at her evilly, “still not gonna’ stop seeing him?” he asked smugly.

“What are you, Xander? Angel’s newest ‘butt monkey’ or something? What if I tell him about you and me? You know, in my marital bed? Think he’s going to just blow that one off?”

He seemed to ponder this for a minute then retorted, “and you think he’s gonna’ believe you? A lying whore who’s screwing a punk ass who’s little better then a street thug?”

Buffy swung her arm around to slap Xander, but he caught her arm with his huge hand, “Will’s a better man then you’ll ever be, Xander,” she hissed, “and just for the record, do you think you were the only one I ‘fucked’ for revenge? Think again.”

She returned his smug look, pulled her arm out of his hand and sashayed back around the desk. “Besides,” she gave him a parting shot, “Will and I are past fearing Angel Travers, we’ll do anything to be happy, so fuck off and go crawl back under your rock!” ‘There,’ she crowed to herself, ‘stick that in your pipe and smoke it, asshole!’

“Well, that’s real Romeo and Juliet of Captain Peroxide and you, Buff, but I think you’re forgetting a few details here.”

Buffy flinched despite herself, “what details,” she asked, her voice tense and harsh.

“It’s not really just about you and lover boy, is it? I mean, think about the other planets in your Spuffy (had to throw that in there!) Universe. What about Joyce? You think Angel’s gonna’ just let you walk off with Spike Giles, knowing that your Mommy dearest would just ‘love’ that! I mean, she’s always been under the Gile’s spell, hasn’t she? Wonder what mischief hubby could cook up for her? Then there’s Anne Gile’s, oh and deranged Drusilla, the walking loony toon. How’s that kid of hers anyway, you know, Guinevere? Hey isn’t Ethan Rayne due to get out of prison soon? Bet he can’t wait to go lay claim to his ‘love child,.’ Especially from a nut job like Drusilla Giles. Bet Angel could really help a guy out in a custody battle, even if the object of battle is over in England? Do you think Angel has any friends in England, Buff? Any powerful contacts?”

She sat down heavily in her chair, considering what Xander had said. “Xander?” she murmered sadly, “when the hell did you become such a prick?”

“I learned, Buffy,” he responded indifferently, “learned from the best. You, Angel, Willow and trash like Spike. I’m not going to be a loser anymore, now I get to win, even if I just get to see the rest of you miserable. I don’t have anything else but misery now, might as well get to be the big ‘winner’ for once.”

Buffy muddled over what Xander had threatened and blurted out, “I could just tell William. You know he’d track you down, kick your sorry ass all up and down Sunnydale. Then rip your stupid head off for good measure.”

She stared Xander down, hoping to scare him, at least a little. “If anything happens to me,” Xander growled through clenched teeth, “I have a friend who will send all kinds of little ‘love letters’ to Angel, immediately. You and Spike’s lives won’t be worth a plugged nickel. Your mother will be put through hell and oh, yeah, Spike’s precious little neice will end up with her father, now there’s a lovely thought. I mean, Ethan is such a model citizen and all, makes your honey look like a Saint, doesn’t he?”

Buffy knew defeat when she saw it and fought to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes.

“I have to tell Will in person, Xander. Tell him we’re through. Just like I did you. Please, Xander, give me that much,” she hated the weakness in her voice.

“I’m feeling generous, Gorgeous,” he chuckled, “go tell Spikey you’re dumping him. In fact, I think it’s really poetic justice if you do. Just wish I could be there for it.”

With that, Xander turned and stomped out of the office, not even bothering to look at her. She sat for a good thirty minutes before picking up her cell phone and speed dialing Will’s number.

“Hi, baby,” came his cheerful voice.

“Hi,” she whispered, fighting back the tears, “I need to talk to you, Will. I need to see you.”

William sounded so happy to hear from her, he must have thought she wanted to just be with him, and she did, really she did, only this time was going to be their last time together.

“Tomorrow,” she murmered, “I’ll come, meet you at the park, okay?”

He readily agreed, but then asked her if everything was alright. “It’s fine, Will, honest. I just need to see you.”

Once she’d hung up the phone, Buffy broke down and sobbed, her heart breaking.

 

Chapter 33: ‘I Can’t Love You’


A/N: Strap on the seat belts, Spuffy lovers, it’s going to be a ‘bumpy’ ride! Thanks, Luv, Spuf


Sunday evening, Spike sat alone on his couch, drinking a beer and watching some stupid soccor game on the telly. He couldn’t get the sound of Buffy’s tone out of his mind, ‘something wasn’t right about it. Almost as if she had been crying or was ready to,’ he thought nervously.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he reasoned trying to push the uneasy feeling he had away. Spike ‘knew’ Buffy in every sense of the word. At this point in time, there was nothing they hadn’t shared or done together, emotionally or physically, so he knew when something was off about her. Something was definitely off here.

Picking up his phone, he called Clem at home, this being his night off at the bar.

“Hello,” came his friends deep voice. “Clem, it’s Spike,” he responded, “I’m wondering mate, are you sure that Captain Cardboard’s crack bunch of investigating boys got that information I had you send them, on Angel?”

Clem burst out laughing at his friend’s nickname for Captain Riley Finn, the guy really was a stiff SOB and Spike’s moniker for him always cracked him up.

“Yes, Spike,” he assured him, I’m more then certain that the Sunnydale Police Department, inept morons that they can be, got the info and even as we speak are trying to figure out what to do with it.”

Spike talked briefly about the bar with his friend, then hung up the phone.

“I cannot wait to watch your sorry arse get hauled off to prison, Peaches,” he said out loud with a smirk.

“I’ll have to be sure to be standing right next to my Buffy when it happens, a big smile on both of our faces. We can both wave ‘bye bye’ as they drive you off. Hope Finn’s the one driving you!”

He got up and got another beer, resisting the urge to skip into the kitchen like some bloody ponce. If everything went right, the timing of this plan of his, everything, he and Buffy could be together, officially in no time at all and he would finally have everything he’d always wanted.

Tossing the beer cap into the kitchen trash can, he went back to the rather boring soccor match on TV.

‘Wish Buffy was here,’ he sighed wistfully, ‘nothing’s right when we’re not together.’

Spike tried his best not to think about Buffy and Angel, together at their beautiful, huge house tonight. It made him extremely jealous and tempted him to just go over there and kick their door in, pulling Buffy out of that prison she shared with Angel.

Buffy hadn’t said it to him, not once, but he just knew she loved him, Spike, not that overbearing arse she was married to, not anymore, anyway.

“Maybe she’ll say it tomorrow,” he mumbled softly, his mood brightening, “maybe Buffy’ll admit she loves me like I know she does.”


Buffy went to bed before 8:30 PM that Sunday night, pleading an oncoming migraine as an excuse to not spend time with Angel. He had come home from his ‘business’ as promised about 5:00 that evening, whistiling jauntily and gave her a roguish wink and a smile in greeting.

The moron hadn’t even noticed Buffy’s pain, never even realized she’d been crying for hours. Right at that moment, Buffy hated Angel Travers more then anyone else in the world, even more then Xander Harris.

‘Angel gets to be happy,’ she thought, her jaw clenched tight in anger, ‘Xander gets to ‘win’ as he put it. I have to break Will’s heart and my own in the process.’

Traitorous tears began to spill down her swollen cheeks and she was thankful that her horror of a husband was not paying one bit of attention to her.

Even at supper, Angel virtually ignored her, chowing down the perfectly marvelous roast beef dinner Maggie had produced that day. Buffy only picked at her food, actually just stirred the slices of meat and potatoes around to make it ‘look’ like she ate something.

Her stomach was so bound up in knots that she couldn’t have eaten a thing, but she could down her wine in no time flat. Reaching for the bottle of cabernet on the table in front of them, Buffy noticed Angel finally watching her with actual interest in his expression.

“What’s wrong, Buffy?” he asked, concerned, “you never have more then a glass of wine with dinner. Something troubling you?”

She averted her eyes from his puzzled brown ones, “no,” she mumbled, “I’m tired and feel a headache coming on. No big, okay.”

But to herself she said, ‘gee Ang, you think something might be a bit off with me tonight? How insightful of you, you worthless, cheating piece of shit! Now, because I’m a stupid, selfish bitch, I’m stuck with you forever, like a major albatross slung around my neck!’

Buffy really did have a major headache, which was probably a good thing at this point. Angel had had that ‘come hither’ look in his eyes just before she had begged off from being in his presence, due to the headache. The last thing she needed or wanted was to have her husband come claim his marital rights on the night before she had to devestate the man she really loved.

However, even though she had taken a pain killer and laid down by 8:30, it was now near 10:30 PM and she still lay awake, tossing and turning in her empty bed. Her husband was downstairs, God knows doing what and she could have cared less about that, or him anymore.

“I really messed things up,” she sighed, starting to cry again, or to continue to cry, really. “I’ve gone and bloody fucked things up royally, Will.” She turned her face into her pillow and sobbed quietly.

Buffy waited until Angel had gone to work Monday morning to arise from bed and prepare for the day. She felt like she’d been drugged, heavily, which wasn’t too far from the truth, since she had to pop another pain killer about midnight to even fall into some form of sleep.

A long soak in a cool tub helped her wake up a little, that and one of Angel’s ‘happy’ pills his Doctor had prescribed a year or so before. Never one for booze or pills, Buffy was not too happy with this turn of events in her pathetic life.

‘If I’m not careful,’ she derided herself, ‘I ‘will’ turn into a Hollywood horror story for sure.’

For some reason, she found it necessary to choose carefully her outfit for the day, “what do you wear to a living funeral? Black, or a neutral grey?” Her sarcastic sense of humour did little to lighten her melonchaly, but at least she could still laugh at herself.

Will was supposed to meet her at ‘their’ park at 10:00 AM, sharpe.

“Just about Monday Brunch hour at the Club,” she reminded herself sourly, while driving to Sunnydale Central Park, “how festive.”

All the way to her destination, Buffy kept reminding herself about how she had to pull this one off.

‘Be strong, Summers,’ she chanted, ‘don’t look into Will’s eyes, you cannot fool him or lie to him, especially when you look into those indigo orbs of his.’

When she pulled up into the huge parking lot of the park, her tummy did a flip flop as she spied Will’s motorcycle already there.

“He must be at the bridge by the lake all ready waiting for me,” she surmised, a monumental longing welling up inside of her. She hadn’t even admitted that she loved Will, not to him anyway, and now she would never be allowed to.

Buffy found Will at the bridge, sitting on the ledge, swinging his long legs over it, ‘just like a school boy,’ she thought wistfully. He smoked a cigarette, of course, and Buffy realized that she was even going to miss that part of him, the chain smoker that he was. His mixed scent of tobacco, leather and sometimes alcohol was destinctfully William’s and she’d remember it until the day she died.

“Will,” she called out to him, although it was unnecessary, he had spied her approaching and stood up, brushing off the back side of his black Levis in the process. Will closed the gap between them and took her in his strong arms, squeezing her tightly to him. “Hello, Beautiful,” he murmered, kissing her passionately.

She let him hold her, for just a moment or two, before she pulled away from him. The look of confusion on his handsome face produced a sharp pain to shoot through her whole body, ‘I can do this,’ she assured herself for the hundredth time that morning, ‘I have to.’

“Will,” she whispered, “we have to talk, really talk here. You need to listen and I need to tell you some truths that neither one of us, no, I mean that you might not want to hear. So please, just let me back up a bit and you stay right where you are. No touching, please Will?”

Her pleading seemed to have made an impression and he just nodded his blond head, never taking his eyes off of her. Buffy stepped back three or four steps, she wasn’t sure and averted her eyes from his, not daring to face him full on.

“We, I mean you and I,” she stammered, trying to find just the right words to say. She had practiced since yesterday, her big swan song with him, but for some reason, the little speech she’d repeated time and again had escaped her when she needed it most.

“Just say it, Princess,” he said evenly, “you and I what?”

Buffy found a focal point to stare at. A mama duck and four baby ducklings quacked and swam around in the lake water, just next to the bridge they stood on.

‘Looking for us to feed them,’ she mused, trying not to cry right then.

“We have to stop seeing each other,” Buffy mumbled softly, ‘there, she’d said it, hope the Powers that be were satisfied.’

“What!” he gasped, taking a step closer to her, even as she backed up two.

Spike could not believe his ears! What the bloody hell was his love going on about? Stop seeing each other! Jesus, it’d be a cold day in hell before that could or would happen!

“Buffy,” he rasped, desperation overwhelming him, “what the hell are you saying?”

She finally looked up at him, her green eyes filled with pain and the hint of tears, somehow giving him a false sense of hope.

“We need to break up, Will,” she responded hoarsely, quickly averting those beloved emerald orbs again.

“Why!” he roared, whether then asked, “what the fuck is going on here, Princess? What’s this about?”

Breaking the ‘closeness gap’ rule, Spike stormed over to her, clutching her to him possessively.

“Why are you saying this, Buffy?” he asked, huskily, searching her eyes for the truth.

“Because it’s true, Will,” Buffy’s words were barely audible to her, much less him.

She pulled away from her darling Will once again.

“I’ve decided,” she began weakly, trying to find some strength in her tone, “to try and work things out with Angel. He’s my husband Will,” she whimpered, ‘great Buffy, wimp out now,’ she chided.

“Last night, we talked, really had a couple discussion and he wants to make things right, so do I,” she lied so easily now, that is as long as she didn’t look Will in the eye.

William grabbed her roughly, “well I don’t want you two to ‘work things out,’ Buffy,” he cried harshly, “I could give a fuck in hell whether Angel’s decided to come ‘round now and be ‘Husband of the Year’ or not. And I know you, Buffy,” he growled, “you’re past caring if your marriage works out or not. Besides,” he whined, “you don’t love Angel anymore, you love me!”

Buffy forced herself to look at him, sternly she hoped anyway, “when did I ever tell you ‘I loved you’ Will,” she said coldly.

“Didn’t have to,” he insisted stubbornly, pulling her flush against him once more, “don’t you think I can feel what’s between us? Think I’m a complete moron, Buffy? I love you and you love me, that’s just the way it is. Ain’t going to change, now or ever!”

She began to shake her head and pushed him away from her, turning her back on him.

“I don’t love you, Will,” she lied again, “I love Angel. He wants children now,with me and…..”

Will grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, “so do I!” he shouted hoarsely, “I want you, children and a future with you!”

Buffy felt her resolve crumbling at that but took a deep breath and once again looked down at her perfectly pedicured feet, “I’m just using you Will,” she whispered.

“I used you to make myself feel stronger and better about ‘me’. It was wrong and cowardly and it’s killing me,” she stated in a strong, but shaky voice.

“I’m sorry William. I can’t love you. But if you love me, really love me like you say you do? You’ll let me go and do what I ‘have’ to.”

Spike just stared down at her, disbelieving the line of obvious lies this woman, his woman, was telling him.

“You do love me,” he countered forcefully, “I know you do, Buffy.”

She just shook her head again, still staring down at her french tip toe nails, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Do you love me, Will?” she finally mumered sadly.

“Yes,” he answered immediately with a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomache.

“Then please let me go on with my life, my marriage. Don’t hurt me anymore, Will, please. Don’t contact me, come around me, and please, Will, don’t ever tell Angel about us. It would kill me, I mean that,” she choked, “it would break my heart. And, I know you would never purposely hurt me, would you?”

Buffy chose that moment to finally meet his loving gaze.

“No,” he rasped, his vision blurred with his own tears.

“Goodbye, Will. Please don’t follow me or try to stop me,” Buffy pleaded softly as she turned and hurried back across the bridge to her car.

Spike on the other hand just stood where she left him, staring after her, tears of pain streaming down his face.


 

Chapter 34: ‘Gonna’ Run Huh?’


A/N: Short, short and shorter chapter for me, sorry.


For the first week after Buffy broke it off with Will, she was okay. All right, she was wasn’t okay, she was miserable, but she sure played the part of a ‘keeping it all together’ kind of gal.

She ran her and Angel’s household, like always; went to work on the days she was supposed to, like always and socialized with her friends, like always.

The fact that Olivia was having Buffy come into the Gallery more often now. Especially while she was gone on business, helped the young confused woman keep her mind busy.

Thursday evening had been the hardest night of all for Buffy as it was one of the times she would have gotten together with Will. Instead, this Thursday she had joined Tara and Willow at The Bronze for dinner, where she informed them that she was working things out with Angel.

Her ‘affair’ with the mystery man was officially over. Willow had hugged Buffy, “it’s for the best, sweetie, I’m sure,” the red head had comforted her, while Tara just nodded her head gently. Buffy did not miss the look of sympathetic concern that passed between the two lovers.

By the time Sunday night had come, Buffy was missing whole meals and had lost over five pounds already. Something that did not suit her already too tiny frame at all.

The only reason she was ‘resting’ at all, was because she was sneaking her husband’s sleeping pills off and on before bed. Finally, by Sunday, Buffy was so thin and had such dark rings under her eyes, that even Angel ‘had’ to notice.

At dinner he stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to ask her if something was wrong, “I’m worried, Babe,” he mumbled with a mouth full of roasted chicken. “You’re too damn thin and you look like you haven’t slept in a week, what’s wrong?”

‘What’s wrong?” she responded in her own mind, “ Well, for starters, Angel baby, I miss my blue-eyed lover. Miss the closeness we shared and the love we made. Funny, how now, when it’s too late you look at me with so much concern in your closed dark eyes.’ Buffy rolled her green eyes in exasperation.

‘What’s wrong?’ she continued her inner convo. ‘I miss the open blue oceans of Will’s eyes, his adoration of me, his belief in who I really am, not who ‘you’ think I should be. What’s wrong? I want him back, my William; the poet, my lover and everything we could have had together. But you wouldn’t understand, the only thing you’ve ever loved Angel, is yourself.’

Instead she answered out loud, “not a damn thing,” curtly and went back to shuffling chicken and salad around on her plate. Angel looked stunned by Buffy’s simple profanity and sighed but said no more during dinner.

By the time Sunday came around, Spike was beyond being okay, he was miserable, plain and simple and did no acting to hide it. He holed himself up in his apartment, drinking himself into a stupor nightly while listening to angstsy alternative rock music.

Spike tried to convince himself that Buffy ‘had’ just used him, like she said, never really cared for him, but the romantic poet in him knew differently.

“She loves me,” he muttered, drinking Jack Daniels right from the bottle, “she loves ME!”

Why his Princess had decided to reject their love, throw him out like so much garbage, he didn’t know, but there was something evil afoot here and it had nothing to do with Buffy loving Angel. That much, Spike knew for sure.

Still, he drank himself into a stupor every night, afraid that if he didn’t, he’d not be able to resist the urge to storm over to Buffy’s house. If he allowed himself to do that, he’d not be able to stop himself from kicking her fucking oak front door in and dragging her out of there.

So, every night for a week, Spike would drink himself into a near coma, listening to alternative rock, angstsy songs. For some reason, his new favorite was ‘Time is Running Out’ by Muse.

TIME IS RUNNING OUT (Muse)

I think I’m drowning
Asphyxiated
I wanna break this spell
That you’ve created

You’re something beautiful
A contradiction
I wanna play the game
I want the friction

You will be the death of me
You will be the death of me
Bury it
I won’t let you bury it
I won’t let you smother it
I won’t let you murder it

Our time is running out
Our tims is running out
You can’t push it underground
You cant’t stop it screaming out

(that’s enough, sorry)


The music blared on full volume, so Spike wasn’t surprised on that Sunday evening when a loud pounding sounded at his own apartment door.

“Go the fuck away!” he shouted, not caring if the person outside heard him or not.

“Spike!” came Clem’s strong voice, “open the door man, now, or I swear to God I’ll kick the damn thing in and you’ll have to pay for it!”

Spike stumbled over to his front door, forgetting he wore only a pair of boxers and opened it slightly, “what the fuck do you want?” he asked his friend gruffly.

“I want to talk to you, Spike,” Clem answered, a little bit calmer then before. “I want to help you, friend.”

Shaking his blond head, Spike let Clem in but muttered bitterly, “no help for me, mate.”

“Man, Spike,” Clem mumbled looking around the apartment, “you look like shit and so does this place. Forget to clean up lately?”

Spike groaned and clasped his throbbing head, “did you come to deride my housekeeping or are you here for a real reason?” he growled. “If you’re here to to tell me to ‘buck up’ then you can ‘fuck off’ and leave now!”

With that, Spike opened another bottle of Jack Daniels and poured it into a 16 ounce glass with ease, “wanna’ drink?” he smirked at Clem.

‘No’ Clem shook his head. He sat down on the couch and eyed his best friend with concern. “Have you eaten lately, Spike?” he asked, apparently already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, matter-of-fact I have, last time Buffy was here I…..”

Clem raised his hand in a defensive gesture, “too much information, man. Sit your ass down and listen to me,” he ordered.

Surprisingly, Spike did just as he was told, although he more fell onto a chair close by and not the couch.

“How long are you going to lock yourself up in this hell hole you’ve made, Spike?” Clem asked, looking around at the usually neat apartment. “How long are you going to hole up in this self exile you’ve made for yourself? A week, a month? How about forever? Why don’t you just drink yourself into a coma and make everything easier for you and the rest of us?”

Spike stared at his friend in surprise, this guy had some balls to talk to him like that.

“I’m going away, going home,” Spike suddenly blurted out.

Clem looked mildly surprised for a minute then stood up slowly.

“Gonna’ run, huh?” the dark haired man chuckled, “gonna’ just drink yourself blind for a while then run off to where? England? Put as much mileage between you and the woman you love as you can? Jesus Spike, I figured you for less of a coward then that!”

“What the bloody hell am I supposed to do, Clem?” he screamed. “She told me she didn’t love me, wanted to work things our with that fucking moron she’s married to!”

Spike kicked the coffee table and then stood there for a few seconds, “bloody fucking hell! That hurt!” he cried and flopped back down on the couch.

Clem laughed out loud, “good! At least you can still feel something!” Sitting down on the coffee table, facing his best friend, Clem got a serious look on his face. “So, you really believed her, huh,” he asked Spike, “believed she doesn’t love you?”

Spike couldn’t answer that one.

“Well,” Clem sighed, “I think Buffy does love you, very much. The young woman that sat in our bar and talked about you that morning loves you very much, Spike. Maybe even more then you deserve, but there’s no accounting for taste.” He smirked good naturedly and chuckled.

“Look,” Clem continued seriously, “I don’t know what happened between you and Buffy, what she said, what you yelled, you know, all that crap that happens between two people in love, but, I know this. You love Buffy and she loves you, I’m am sure of this. You say you’re going back to England, okay, go, but first don’t you think you should go to see ‘your girl’ and tell her you are leaving and she ‘is’ the reason why. If you don’t Spike, if you don’t go to her and tell her, you’ll regret it until the day you die. I’m sure of that too.”

Spike sat, staring at his rather blurry looking friend, pondering his words of wisdom. “Yeah, you’re right, mate,” he whispered, “just hope ‘my girl’ doesn’t have me thrown out of her Gallery on my arse.

That night, after Clem left his apartment, Spike flopped into his bed, the one he and Buffy had shared a week or so before. Spike hadn’t bothered to change the sheets, unusual for him, he washed them at least once a week, but this time he’d left them on longer.

They smelled of Buffy, of him and their love making, all vanilla and tobacco, their intermingled scents. He had come to a decision, Spike had; he’d go over to Buffy’s Gallery tomorrow, waltz in and use any excuse to see her and talk to her.

If she turned him away, well then so be it, he’d go ahead and leave this fucking town; away from her, his Princess and go home to England. Only, he hoped that she wouldn’t turn him away, he hoped and prayed that she would fall into his arms and come home with him, here to his apartment, their ‘haven’ and their own paradise.

Spike had once promised Buffy, not so long ago that he would never leave her. More then anything, he wanted to so keep that promise, more then the one he’d made a week before, not to contact or see her. He ‘had’ to see her.

Buffy was cataloging some new items that Olivia had purchased in Chicago on her buying trip. Monday was busy, even at the quiet Gallery she worked at, so it kept her mind occupied, well, kind of occupied anyway.

She was just finishing up an inventory of the new American Artist collection when she heard her boss, Olivia say to someone, "an original Christina’s World! Oh, Buffy Travers will be so thrilled. Let me go get her!”

Olivia hurried into Buffy’s office, visibly excited by something. “Buffy!” she cried happily, “there’s a young man here, British, he’s got a lovely endowment for the Gallery. I think it might be your Mother’s original print of Andrew Wyeth’s ‘Christina’s World’ and you must come see it!”

Buffy stood up numbly and headed for the showroom, more then certain that this was indeed her Mother’s original print of the painting and just who this British man was.


 

Chapter 35: ‘Who Else Could It Be?’

A/N: This is another one of my ‘connector chapters’ one that
might seem a bit unnecessary at this time, but might be important later. Actually, I’m winding this fic down, believe it or not; only a few more chapters left. Thanks luv Spuf


Buffy walked into Olivia’s office, fully aware of just ‘who’ awaited her in there. Sure enough, Will sat in the visitor’s chair, his left leg, nervously slung across his right one.

Olivia led Buffy into her office, happy to introduce the two young people and all over the original ‘Christina’s World’ print that this fellow Brit had brought into the Gallery.

“Mr. Giles,” Olivia gushed, “this is Buffy Travers, she is my assistant and I am sure her own Mother, Joyce owned this print…..”

Olivia must have seen the ‘look’ that passed between Buffy and Will because she stopped mid-sentence and glanced first at her, then at him.

“I think introductions are unnecessary,” Olivia murmered, wisely, “I’m going out into the showroom, I’ve work to do. Good day Mr. Giles.” With a nod to William and Buffy, Olivia left her own office quickly.

Buffy could not look at Will, she averted her green eyes from his blue ones and asked softly, “why are you here?”

William stood up and closed the gap between them, trying not to be too intimidating to her, “I have to be here, Buffy,” he responded evenly, “I have to see you.”

She walked over to the office door and closed it then faced the man she loved, “I asked you not to try and see me, Will,” she murmered. “You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be anywhere near here.”

Although Buffy tried to be stern and brave, tried not to show her inner feelings, she just knew that she was a ‘neon sign’ of her emotions. It made her feel weak.

Again, Will came closer to her and his nearness caused her to tremble a little, but she stared at him in the eyes, determined to make him understand.

“I don’t want you here, Will,” she repeated her previous lie, “I just can’t have you here. Please go away now.”

“Liar!” Spike hissed at her, his eyes narrowed into two blue slits of fire.

“What?” she gasped with wide green eyes.

“I said,” he growled deeply, “you are a liar!” He had closed the gap between them until he was just inches from her face, he could feel her hot breath on his skin.

Buffy began to shake her head in denial, “I told you, I can’t have you here, Will…..”

Before she could utter another lie, Spike pulled her to him roughly, crushing his lips against hers. They seemed to melt together, molding their bodies together in their embrace and kisses.

Suddenly, Buffy pushed him away abruptly, “Stop it!” she cried, stepping far back from him, rasping, “you need to leave now Will. Please, just go, take the painting with you and don’t ever come back here!”

Spike stood, shell shocked for a moment or two then shook it off, “I’m leaving Buffy,” he announced gruffly, staring her down. “I came here to tell you I’m going home, to England. I’m going to help my Mum with Drusilla and little Guinevere. I won’t bother you anymore, Princess.”

As an afterthought, he added, “I can’t bother you from almost five thousand miles away, right? But, I’m giving this damn Gallery the painting; it’s my right and my choice to do so. You have no say in it.”

Somehow, Spike felt smugly righteous in his declaration, especially the leaving part, it somewhat put salve on his wounds. ‘Hope she’s fuckin’ miserable,’ he thought viciously, then immediately felt remorse for his evil thought.

Buffy digested his words slowly, her mind numb with confusion and instant pain.

“You’re leaving?” she asked in disbelief.

William nodded, his silence alone broke her heart a hundred times over again; but, what could she have expected? She sat down in Olivia’s plush desk chair, as pale as a ghost, she was sure. All of her energy and fire, even her words abandoned her in a moment’s time.

Gazing, unfocused at her boss’s desk, Buffy felt Will’s intense blue eyes on her, watching her. He seemed to clock her reaction to his announcement.

“Buffy,” he whispered harshly, leaning over the chair she sat in, “Buffy!” he cried out this time.

“Huh?” she snapped to attention, nearly falling backwards out of the chair, causing Will to grab and steady her.

“Baby,” he murmered tenderly, stroking her arm gently, “I really only came to say goodbye. Thought I owed it to you, okay, to both of us. Please believe me, Buffy darling, I would never hurt you or try and cause you any more pain then I already have. I love you Buffy, always.”

Spike gazed at his love, the one woman in the world that could bring him to his knees in a second’s time, as always, she was lovely, even if she’d definitely lost too much weight. She wore those little black pants she’d worn the night they’d danced at Clem’s Bar together, something he’d always remember and cherish.

Later, at ‘their’ pond, they had made love together, her hot little breaths gusting on his bare chest, murmering their lover’s words to each other.

“It was ‘always’ making love for me, Buffy,” he stated suddenly, “it was always love on my part, for you. I love you, always have and always will.”

Buffy stared up at him with those huge green eyes of hers, he saw tears in them.

“I know,” she whispered softly, “I…..”Before she finished the sentence, Buffy wriggled out of Spike’s embrace and said simply, “I’ll miss you in Sunnydale Will. I’ll miss you.”

She didn’t even look at him. “Bye Princess,” he murmered, backing away from her, “take care, baby. I love you.” He turned and walked out of the office.

Buffy sat back down in her boss’s chair, so stunned that she could barely think clearly. Will was leaving, going thousands of miles away and he was leaving her; no, he was leaving because of her.

She was so deep in thoughts of her own private pain, that she had not even noticed Olivia had returned to the office and was now watching her from just a few feet away.

When Buffy heard Olivia clear her throat, she looked up at her, knowing that she must have looked at least a bit deranged, like a deer looks when it’s caught in headlights.

“Buffy?” Olivia called to her softly, her melodic voice just dripped with concern.

That did it for Buffy, she broke down and began to sob uncontrollably, past caring if her own boss saw her behave in this manner. Buffy hung her head down and covered her face with her hands as she continued to weep desperately, ignoring Olivia’s pleas to tell her what was wrong.

When she got no verbal response from Buffy, just her desperate sobs, Olivia hurried up to the chair she sat in and threw her arms about her, pleading again, “Buffy, please dear, tell me what is wrong? What can I do to help you?”

Buffy just shook her head, still in her hands, the pain wracked her body causing her to shake violently and causing Olivia to really panic.

“Buffy, I’m going to call your husband for you, is he at work now?” Olivia asked with concern.

“No!” Buffy cried, clutching at her boss frantically, “don’t call him, Olivia, please! I don’t want him, I don’t want him here!” She began to sob even louder, especially when Olivia began to stroke her long golden hair softly, much as she would do to comfort one of her own small children.

“All right Buffy,” she cooed to her, “but I’m going to call Tara and her Willow, someone you are close to, must come here and help you, at least talk to you. Now, I’m going to step right over here to my desk and ring them, okay?”

Buffy nodded her head against Olivia’s shoulder, just a little bit calmer in the knowledge that her beloved best friend Willow and her love Tara might soon be there for her.

Not thirty minutes had passed before Buffy heard both Tara and Willow’s voices through Olivia’s office door. By the time they got there, Buffy had calmed down a little bit, she was just sniffling now instead of the wailing she’d been doing earlier.

When Willow saw Buffy, she grew even paler then she usually was, worry was etched all over the red head’s face and Tara didn’t look much better.

“Buffy, honey!” Willow rushed over to her friend and embraced her tightly, “what’s wrong sweetie? What happened?”

Buffy looked up at her dear friend, then up at Tara and on to Olivia who took that opportunity to excuse herself and leave her own office, closing the door behind her.

“He was here Wills,” Buffy began to cry again, her voice cracked from pain and tears, “he came by to tell me he’s leaving Sunnydale and……” she couldn’t finish, she just snuggled deeper into Willow’s embrace and cryed softly again.

“Who was here Buffy? Spike?” Willow asked quietly.

Buffy gasped and looked at her friend, stunned that Willow knew just who her lover really was.

“I’ve known it was Spike since day one, Buff,” Willow explained, gently stroking her honey blond hair.

“Who else could it be? I can read you like a book Buffy Summers and when you even alluded to a lover, I guessed it was Spike. No one could ever affect you the way Spike does and you were so affected that way in our apartment, from the start.”

The red head smiled, tenderly at her best friend, “the look on your face, in your eyes; a mixture of aggravation, frustration and ‘I can’t wait to see him again’ was a sure sign. At least a sure sign that for ‘you’ it was Spike Giles. We’ve all seen it for years, honey, well, that and the fact that you must have said ‘bloody’ three times during the course of the conversation. You may not have realized it, but I heard it and put two and two together.”

Willow had to chuckle, evoking a slight smile from Buffy. “So honey,” Willow sighed, glancing up at Tara and then back at Buffy. “I think you better start from the beginning and tell us everything. If you do, maybe we can help you somehow and I am sure you’ll feel much better. In fact, I know you will.”

Through her tears and sporadic soft laughter, Buffy told both Tara and Willow what had happened between William and herself over the past couple of months. She even confessed to them about Xander, but said nothing of Riley, Connor or just who Angel was having the affair with, it would have served no purpose.

Of coure, she didn’t share her most intimate moments with William to them, but just talking about their short time together did make her feel better, even if they would never have that again.

This is when she would start to cry, her sense of loss caused Buffy so much inner pain, although deep down, she knew she deserved some of it.

When she told them about Xander’s part in her and Will’s break up, Buffy felt Willow tense up against her, “I’m so going to kick his ass!” Willow hissed.

“No Willow!” Buffy cried, burying her head into her friend’s shoulder again, “if Xander finds out about this, he’ll go straight to Angel. So many lives will be ruined, please don’t go there, please!”

Willow said nothing more, just nodded for Buffy to continue her story. When she had finished, Tara came around the desk and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “d’do you love him, B’Buffy? D’do you love Sp’Spike?” she stuttered softly.

“Yes,” Buffy responded without a moment’s hesitation, “I love him more then anything in the world.”

Tara picked up the intercom on Olivia’s desk and called over it to Buffy’s boss. Olivia suddenly reappeared in her office and joined the three young women by her desk, visibly relieved to see Buffy doing better anyway.

“We’re going to take Buffy home, now Olivia,” Tara informed her quietly, but Buffy broke in with a cry of denial.

“No! I don’t want to go home! Angel might be there, like a bloody spider waiting in his web to entrap me! I can’t go home, Tara, Willow please don’t take me…..”she broke off from her frantic pleading to gaze desperately at the three women.

“No, no honey,” Tara comforted her and patted her arm. Willow and I will take you to ‘our’ place for the night. Willow, will you call Angel and tell him that Buffy is terribly ill and can’t make it home tonight? Tell him we tried to get a hold of him earlier and couldn’t.”

Willow nodded and helped Buffy up from the chair, leading her out of Olivia’s office.

“You take the next few days off, Buffy,” Olivia ordered gently, “get some rest and for Heaven’s sake eat something! You’re skin and bones, girl.”

Tara opened the door and watched Willow and Buffy start through it, “you can spend the night at our place, Buffy,” she explained, “you won’t have to face Angel tonight. This way you can get yourself together a little more, face him tomorrow. I think that might help, don’t you?”

Buffy nodded and smiled ‘yes’ allowing Willow to lead her out of the office. “Thank you Olivia,” she told her boss in passing. “Thank you guys too,” she whispered to Tara and Willow.”

 

Chapter 36: ‘Because She Loves Him’


Summary: As Buffy’s health and Spike’s mental health deteriorates, three of their friends cook up a plan to reunite the couple.


Buffy sat on Tara and Willow’s couch, a mug of Tara’s hot herbal tea clutched in her hands. Willow had stopped at some DVD rental place and picked up a couple of movies for them to watch; ‘Simply Irresistable’ and ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’ two of Buffy’s favorites.

The red head had also stopped at the DoubleMeat Palace and bought a ton of greasy burgers, fries and onions rings, like Olivia had said, Buffy was skin and bones.

Around 8:00 PM, Angel called the apartment to talk to Buffy, but Willow told him she was sleeping, “she’s really ill, Angel,” Willow lied, well kind of lied. Buffy was ill, it was true, but a ‘love sickness’ is something that cannot be explained away and maybe cannot be cured.

What Buffy needed was William Giles and visa versa, to cure them both; the only problem was, this illness might be fatal to both of them.

“We’ll make up the couch for your bed, honey,” Willow told her, heading to the linen closet for some bed clothes, “is that okay?”

Buffy just nodded and kept watching Sarah Michelle Gellar make and ass out of herself over some random guy in Simply Irresistable.

“Oh, Will’s,” she suddenly cried out, “I love this song!” ‘Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered came on in the closing credits causing Tara and Willow to snuggle up on the couch together with Buffy.

As if on cue, the three young women began to sing out the lyrics, trying to do their best to sound like Kim Novak in ‘Pal Joey’:

‘I’m wild again,
beguiled again

A simpering, whimpering
Child again, bewitched, bothered
And bewildered, am I’

‘Couldn’t sleep, and
wouldn’t sleep when love
came and told me
I shouldn’t sleep’

‘Bewitched, bothered
and bewildered, am I’

Suddenly, Buffy stopped singing and got the saddest look on her face, one that matched the sadness in her heart., one she couldn’t hide from the two other women.

Tara jumped up and pulled Willow with her, “we should get to bed now, Wills,” she said, “school tomorrow and Buffy needs some sleep.”

Willow leaned down and hugged Buffy tightly, “it’s gonna’ be okay, Buff, I promise,” she whispered into her ear. Buffy just nodded her head and mumbled a good night to the two women, then got up and went into the bathroom to wash her flushed face.

She looked into the bathroom mirror and for the first time noticed how gaunt her face truly looked, “I look like walking death!” she gasped, stunned.

“Will must have been shocked to see me like this! I’ve got to pull it together.”

For a minute or two, Buffy pondered the day, her feelings for Will, Tara, Willow’s and Olivia’s generosity, “I’m going to go see my Mom,” she decided. “I’ll drive up in a couple of days, have a real heart to heart with her, again, she’ll know how to help me cope with this.”

The next day, Buffy reluctantly went home to Angel, praying he would not bother her about her ‘illness’ or anything that had happened the day before.

When she got home, of course he was at work, which was just fine with her. Buffy shuffled into her bedroom, stripped down and then drew some bath water.

After she soaked for a while in a nice warm tub, she got out and dried off, then snuck another one of Angel’s sleeping pills, ‘gotta’ get some real sleep,’ she told herself, ‘I’ve got to pull it together and get back on track.’ Once she had dried off, drank a ton of water and slipped on a pair of silk pajamas, Buffy slipped into her bed sheets and closed her eyes. Immediately, she was sound asleep, dreaming of Will.

Since that day at Buffy’s Gallery, Spike had gone home, stayed drunk, again, and holed up in his apartment for over three days. He had not done a damn thing to make arrangements to leave Sunnydale and Buffy behind, he just hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it.

‘She looked like walking death,’ he reminded himself, opening yet another beer and picturing Buffy in his mind. Buffy had lost weight, something she definitely didn’t need to do and her skin was so pale, there were dark bluish rings under her eyes and everything.

“She’s miserable,” he hissed out loud, “fuckin’ miserable as I am, all signs point to it. Yet she turns me away, rejects me. I just don’t bloody get it.”

He picked up his remote, flipping through the cable channels, randomly, settling on some stupid TBS movie playing.

“Oh bloody hell!” he groaned, “Summer Catch? Freddie Prinz Jr. is such a….” A knock came at his front door.

“No one’s home!” he shouted, turning up the volume on the moronic movie just to drown out the persistent knocking.

“It’s Clem,” came the deep voice of his friend and business partner, “open the door Spike. We’ve got something to tell you.”

‘We?’ Spike wondered curiously, “we who?” he barked out, pulling on his shirt over his jeans.

“Well, you stubborn SOB,” Clem barked back, “if you’d open your damn door, you’d find out. But, I’ll tell you out of the goodness of my heart. It’s Willow Rosenberg, her friend Tara McClay and me of course, the only friend you’ve got in the world. You better open the door, Spike,” he threatened, “I think you’ll want to hear what the two ladies have to tell you.”

Willow Rosenberg spoke up from outside the door, “it’s about Buffy, Spike,” she called, “we need to straighten some things out about her. Please let us in, okay?”

Spike stumbled to the door, glancing around to make sure that the apartment was at least presentable to guests. ‘What the hell?’he wondered to himself.

Spike let Willow, Tara and Clem into his apartment, reluctantly, wondering what the hell any of them had to tell him about Buffy.

‘Okay,’ he reasoned, ‘Willow is Buffy’s best friend right? And this Tara must be Willow’s girl so I guess maybe they do have something to say about Buffy?’

“Hi, Spike,” Willow greeted, “long time no see, this is my girlfriend Tara McClay. We called Clem, asked him to bring us here; we need to talk Spike, about Buffy.”

Spike nodded at this Tara bird, glared at Clem in embarrassment and smiled at Willow, “good to see you Red,” he responded with mock gruffness.

“Hi, Sp…Spike,” Tara smiled shyly, “I’ve heard a lot about you, from your Buffy that is.”

‘Buffy?’ Spike questioned silently, ‘so Buffy told Willow and this Tara about us? Now I’m compeltely confused.’

“Sit down then,” Spike motioned to the couch, he and Clem took the two chairs.

“I’m going to cut to the chase here, Spike,” Willow began, her face tinged with a blush, “Buffy told Tara and me everything about you and Buffy, I mean the parts that she could tell that is.”

The red-head blushed profusely, causing Clem and Spike to chuckle.

“That’s how we, Tara and me knew to get in touch with Clem to find you,” Willow continued quickly, keeping her focus on Tara. “Buffy told us all about the bar, the pond, hope that was all right, how you two got together….”

Again, Willow and Tara both blushed, but the blond girl nudged her girlfriend and encouraged her to continue.

“Anyway, she also told us about your ‘break-up’ and why and everything…..”

Here, Spike broke in gruffly, “why? Because she bloody well doesn’t love me, she loves that fuckin’ moron she’s married to!”

Willow and Tara gasped and Clem glared at Spike, “Geez, man, crude much! Do you ever think before you open your mouth and speak, Spike? Why do you think these ladies came all the way over here to ‘tell’ you something, because you’re such a good host?”

Spike sat back down and hung his head, ashamed for his outburst and language, “sorry,” he mumbled lowly, “go ahead, Red.”

Tara spoke up this time, “it’s okay, Sp..Spike,” she stuttered softly, “we know y..you love Buffy and how hard this is for b…both of you.” She then nodded at Willow, patting her leg with her hand, “go on sweetie,” she told her.

Willow took a deep breath, it appeared to Spike that she was concentrating on each word she had to say to him.

“Spike,” she began, almost in a whisper, “Buffy is miserable without you. I want you to understand this, it’s important that you realize just how much she, well, she misses you and needs you in her life. Please don’t say anything until I finish because this is really hard for me, Spike, honest, for Tara and me both. Clem was nice enough to bring us here, knowing how much you love Buffy and frankly, I shouldn’t say this, Buffy should, but she ‘does’ love you Spike, so much.”

When Willow told Spike that, he smiled softly, ‘yeah, I know she does Red, so how come she left me?’

He was so confused by now, that he couldn’t vocalize anything, just nodded his blond head and tried to understand what Red and her girl were trying to tell him.

“Buffy fell apart after you left the Gallery the other day. Olivia was so worried she called Tara and I to come get her and take her home,so we did, to our place.”

Spike flinched, remembering again how thin poor Buffy was, how pale and tired, “is she all right, Red?” he asked worriedly.

“No,” Willow answered honestly, “like I said, Spike, she’s miserable without you.”

‘Then how come she’s not with me?’ he asked himself again, “why doesn’t she want me anymore?” he asked Willow, his voice sounded like a small boys and he was ashamed of himself.

“She does want you, Spike, she does, but something happened, or should I say someone happened and Buffy felt like she ‘had’ to break it off with you. Not because of Angel, Spike, I mean that.”

Now he was even more confused, what or who had convinced Buffy to stop seeing him, now, when they were so close to being able to be together.

‘Who?’ he asked Willow silently.

Willow was quiet for a moment, she looked as if she was considering ‘not telling’ Spike who was behind all this, then, “I’ll tell you Spike, but you have to promise me something. Give me your word you won’t go after this person, hurt them, or harrass them. If you don’t promise and I trust your word Spike, but if you don’t promise me? I won’t explain another thing.”

She looked at him so seriously that Spike almost laughed, but he was too uneasy to even chuckle at the moment, ‘it better not be who I think it is,’ he warned his inner being, afraid that it was exactly that moron behind all this.

“Promise,” he told her, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Xander Harris threatened Buffy that he would tell Angel everything about you and her. Then for good measure he reminded poor Buffy that Angel wasn’t above hurting not only you guys, but Buffy’s mom. He even mentioned Ethan Rayne and his connection to your sister, their baby and your Mother, Spike.”

Willow shook her head sadly, “I can’t believe Xander would do this, it’s just not him at all.”

Spike was on his feet and headed to his front door, bike keys in hand, the minute Willow had said the name ‘Xander Harris.’

Clem leapt up to stop him, grabbing him by the arms, “no way, man,” the shorter dark haired man hissed, “you promised, Spike, swore. It’s not going to do any good to go after Harris.”

“Let me go, Clem,” Spike growled dangerously, “I’m gonna’ go rip that fuck’s head off and drop kick it into the Pacific Ocean, then I’m going to tear the rest of his worthless corpse into little pieces and…..”

Tara stood up, she’d been silent most of the time but now she said plenty.

“No you’re not, Sp..Spike,” she said with determination, “you pro..promised Willow you’d leave Xander alone, and I know you wouldn’t lie. Especially if you know it’ll just kill B..Buffy if anything happens to you or your family and her own. Pl…Please, please try to calm down, besides, Xander is gone. We, Willow and m…me, sent him away, out of town, that is.”


Spike stopped struggling with Clem long enough to ask Tara just how Willow and her had accomplished ‘sending’ Xander Harris out of town.

“Well, at the risk of sounding like a bad mobster movie,” Willow piped up, “we made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. He won’t be back to Sunnydale for a while, that should give you and Buffy plenty of time to work things out and make some decisions. Say it’s enough Spike, please. If you go after Xander, Angel will find out everything, I’m sure of it from what Buffy told me, it won’t do any of you any good. So please, Spike, let Xander go, for now, anyway.”

Spike just nodded, but he was still picturing Xander’s bloody head flying into the Pacific Ocean.

“Buffy doesn’t’ know we’re here, Spike,” Willow continued as he and Clem sat down once again on the chairs.

“You have to understand, Buffy is terrified of Angel and now Xander, too. Although Xander is gone and Angel is clueless, it’s going to take some pretty major work to get Buffy to meet with you and work all this out. I hope you understand, Spike, it’s really tough for Tara and me to try and help Buffy and you get back together. Neither of us are really big on seeing Buffy threaten her so called marriage, but, Angel has been awful to her, yes, we know about that too. And, there’s the fact that Buffy and you love each other, it makes her happy to have you in her life. I want Buffy to be happy, Spike, she means so much to me and she’s always supported my decisions, helped me get through my miserable childhood.”

Here Willow clasped Tara’s hand warmly, “Buffy is a good friend, Sp…Spike,” Tara added, “she’s always been there for Willow, we want to help her now.”

Spike sat quietly, for once, thinking about what the two women and Clem had said, done for Buffy and him by telling him all this.

“Thanks, Red, Tara,” he mumbled softly, “I promise you both, I’ll try and make Buffy as happy as humanly possible.”

Buffy sat in the back of Willow’s Altima and watched the scenery as they drove out of Sunnydale, north to Santa Barbara. She was really happy that Wills and Tara had offered to go with her to Joyce’s house, frankly, she enjoyed the company, although the drive wasn’t long. The only thing was, Willow seemed intent on taking a rather long way around to get to the main highway north.

“I haven’t been out this way in ages, Buff,” Willow had mumbled from the front seat, “just wanted to see it again.” With a shrug, Buffy went back to her thoughts, wondering what her Mother was going to say when she told her ‘almost everything’ about the past few months, even about Xander and his sudden personality swing.

‘I guess I can finally tell Mom that I do love William,’ she sighed sadly, ‘too bad it’s way too late now.’

Snapping out of her sad reverie, Buffy realized that Willow was driving right towards the place where the Inn that she and Will had spent their first night together was.

‘Oh, God,’ she sighed to herself, ‘I don’t think I can look at it as we pass it. It’ll break my heart again, I miss him so much even if….’

Suddenly, Willow turned quickly into the parking lot of the Inn and pulled up to the back area. Buffy was shocked to see Will’s motorcycle there, right in the same spot it had been the first time.

“Willow,” she gasped with panic, “what the hell is this? Why are we here, why’s William here? I don’t understand, what’s….”

Tara turned around, smiling softly and reaching over the seat to take Buffy’s arm in hers, “it’s ok..kay, Buffy. Sp..Spike is here to talk to you.”

Willow joined her girlfriend and smiled warmly, although blushing, at Buffy, “it’s true Buff,” she added, “we told Spike everything and cooked up this little trip to your Mom’s to cover for you with Angel.”

“Oh my God! My Mom, she…..”

Willow chuckled softly, “knows your not coming to see her Buff.”

At that moment, Buffy didn’t know if she was relieved, scared, happy or a little pissed at the two girls over the spy games, but she quickly decided that she was thrilled.

“What about Xander?” she muttered, terrified that he might find out.

“Xander is no longer involved in any of this, Buffy,” Willow responded softly, “he’s not even in Sunnydale right now. Tara’s Uncle Ronald has a construction company in LA, he’s working on a major job.”

Willow clasped Tara’s hand in hers, “she asked her Uncle to hire on Xander as a subcontractor. Xander couldn’t turn it down so he’s gone, for at least a month. I encouraged him to ‘get away’ from Sunnydale for a while, and he actually listened to me. He won’t be around to bother anyone anymore.”

Buffy was stunned, she couldn’t believe her friends had gone to so much trouble for her. As if they read her mind, Willow and Tara reminded her what a good friend Buffy had been, especially to Willow over the years.

“We love you Buff,” Willow said shyly, “we want you to be happy too.”

“I’ll never forget this,” Buffy murmered, leaning over the seat, hugging both women together. “You guys are the best and I love you both,” she added, “thank you. I really love him, Wills,” Buffy finished looking at the door, #7, “I just wish I’d have realized that he was the long haul guy a long time ago.”

Tara just patted Buffy’s arm gently, Willow said, “your guy’s waiting, go on Buffy. And please, Buffy,” she stammered, “tell Spike you love him this time, don’t let another chance go by. Life’s too short to let happiness slip away and he so needs to hear that you love him. Okay?”

Buffy didn’t even try to stop the tiny tears that formed in her eyes, “I’ll tell him first thing, Wills, I promise. And thank you,” she whispered hugging Willow and Tara again before she hopped out of the car. Buffy waved goodbye to the two women. Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly on door #7.

 

Chapter 37: ‘Reconciliation/Consumation’


A/N: I gave myself a few ‘challenges’ before I wrote this chapter. It’s kind of a short one for me, anyway. 1) Either Buffy or Spike has to say the phrase ‘crazy ass in love’ during the chapter; 2) Spike has to recite poetry to Buffy; 3) No where in this chapter will either Angel or Xander be mentioned even in a death threat! Okay, I succeeded in pulling this much off. Please read! Luv, Spuf


Buffy knocked softly on door #7 of the Inn. Her heart raced, pounded actually, in her chest, excited to see Will again, so privately, hoping he would hear her out.

‘Of course he’ll hear you out, nimrod,’ her naughty Buffy voice interjected with glee, ‘he loves the hell out of you girl, pull your head out of your ass and open your eyes. Oh, and open your mouth, this time, Buffy, tell your guy you love him!’

Will opened the door of the Inn and Buffy took in his beloved face and body, especially his cobalt blue eyes. In that nano second that passed between them, Buffy saw everything she needed to; William loved her, needed her and wanted her forever. Their connection was total and their fate was sealed at that very moment.

Will held out his hand to her, ‘pianist’s hands,’ she thought tenderly. ‘William has the hands of a pianist, or artist. I noticed that before, wonder why I never really put it into a conscious though, or verbal thought before?’

Buffy took his artist’s hand and allowed him to lead her into the room, where he stopped in the middle and turned to her, “we can just talk if you want, Princess,” he murmered shyly, “like I promised before. I know you were kind of roped into this tonight and….”

Before he could finish, Buffy wrapped her arms around Will’s lean body, bringing her lips to his left ear, “I’m glad, Will,” she whispered.

“I’m glad I got roped into being here, and I do want to talk with you, but first, I have to tell you something.” Screwing up her courage, Buffy nuzzled her mouth into Will’s neck even as he hugged her tighter then before.

“I love you, Will,” Buffy purred, running her lips lightly around the shell of his ear. “I’m crazy ass in love with you and I want to be with you, only you, William Giles. Do you believe me?”

Spike felt tears form in the corners of his eyes, but he really didn’t give a rat’s ass at the moment, Buffy had admitted it. Finally after ten years, her marriage to the wrong guy, his and her crazy relationship and a break up, (even ME’s drawn out angstsy long season 7! Okay, sorry)! Buffy had admitted the truth, she loved him and all those years just melted away, leaving just her and him, alone together in this room.

“I believe you, baby,” he answered, his voice husky with emotion. He ran his hands down her arms and kissed her soft mouth simotaneously, “I believe everything you say to me, Buffy, always.”

Buffy smiled at him lovingly, “good, cos’ I could never fool you, Will, never. Hard as I tried.”

Clasping her tightly to his body, Spike murmered into her mouth, even as he kissed her, “I’ll love you forever, Buffy. Can’t help it, I’m in love with you, your stubborn spirit, quick mind, beautiful eyes, absolutely luscious body, compassion, warmth and oh yeah,” he grinned wickedly, “even your cute crooked nose.”

She squeaked in protest, “I so do not have a crooked nose!” she gasped in mock anger.

“Okay,” he kissed said nose, “it’s not crooked, but it’s cute.”

This seemed to placate her and without another word, Buffy broke their embrace, took his left hand and led him to the bed.

“I think it would be best if we ‘talked’ here, Will,” she grinned mischieviously, “of course we could put the ‘talk’ off until later, huh?”

Spike matched her grin, “bloody hell, Buffy, we can put the talk off all night if you want!”

Buffy resisted the urge to tear Will’s clothes off of him, she wanted to undress him, oh yeah, but gentle and all slow- like. She reached up and began to tug the black tee shirt up over his chest and shoulders, “tell me you love me again,” she murmered as she slid the material up over his handsome head.

“I love you, always, ” he responded softly, never taking his eyes from hers.

“Tell me that you want me, Will,” she purred her command.

“Again, always,” he answered, reaching out to pull her top off, then her jeans.

“Let me,” Buffy offered sweetly as she unzipped his jeans and slid them down over his hips, then his thighs, then his legs. They finally stood, face to face, almost totally naked, well he was naked, she still had on her thong by this time.

“Tell me that you, that you…..”Buffy couldn’t finish, she felt like her throat was closing up, her heart was racing and tremors shot through her tiny frame.

“Tell you that I’d what, Buffy, darling,” he asked softly, running his long, slim fingers through her golden hair. “That I’ll love you forever? Already said it. But, I’ll say it again; I’ll love you forever, Buffy. I’ve loved you from day one, I’m always going to love, want and need you.”

“You have artist’s hands, Will,” Buffy sighed suddenly, clasping his hands into her tiny ones. “You have hands of a painter, or a sculptor, maybe even a pianist. I always ‘saw’ that, but never said it, I want to say it now, silly as it seems. I love your hands, Will. I love you.”

When she’d finished speaking, Buffy leaned up and kissed him full on the mouth, almost shyly, as if what she had said may have embarrassed both of them.

Will smiled into her lips, “I love you, love your hands, lips, mind and eyes, even your croo…I mean cute nose, even your stubborness, Buffy. I love you, all of you.”

Buffy giggled, then flung herself back onto the bed, “well if you love me so much, Will Giles, then come and show me!” She burst into a gleeful chuckle, even more so when Will leapt on top of her.

He stilled her merry laughter with his passionate kisses, running his lips down her chin to her neck then to her bare breasts.

“Oh, Will,” she sighed dreamily, “you’ve got such nice lips!” Smiling, he suckled each of her little nipples then continued down to her tummy, barely skimming her flesh there with his yummy mouth. Now Buffy giggled again, ticklish as she was at that particular place, “stop!” she cried laughing, flaying about on the bed, trying not to kick Will accidently.

“Nope!” he growled playfully and continued to lick and nibble her tummy relentlessly.

“I mean it Will!” she laughed hysterically, now, “I won’t be able to control myself, I might kick you in the head by accident!”

Finally, William stopped, but only long enough to give her the most dazzling grin, then he slipped his head between her thighs and began to lick and nibble another much more sensitive place on Buffy.

Spike, listened to his love moan and groan in delight as he tasted her again and again. Buffy was incredibly responsive to him when he did this, but bloody hell, she was responsive to everything he did. Just like he was with her.

When she was so close he could feel her begin to cum, he concentrated on her most sensitive part of her luscious cunny, bringing her over the edge. By the time he’d finished, he was so hard he almost couldn’t move up her body to position himself to thrust into her, just like he wanted to.

“Make love to me, please Will,” Buffy suddenly whispered, her green eyes wide and searching. “Please, Will, real nice and slow, no rough stuff this time. I need you, so much, but I need nice and slow to consumate our reconciliation. Do you mind, Will? I mean if you want…..”

Spike stared down into the face of the woman he loved more then life itself, “I’ll do nice and slow, baby,” he murmered, kissing her lips with a smile. I’ll do nice and slow, tender and sweet. Fuck Buffy, I’d go on national television and shout ‘I Love Buffy Summers’ from coast to coast, live. I’d go on international television and….”

Buffy giggled softly, “okay, I get it, Will. You’ll do tender and nice for me.”

He entered Buffy so agonizingly slowly, that he thought he might start crying from the sheer tortureous pleasure of it. Buffy was writhing underneath him, encouraging him with her passionate words.

“Like that, baby?” he asked, his voice husky and straining to control himself.

“Yeah, just like that baby,” she moaned, clasping her arms around his chest and back, accepting his gentle kisses on her mouth and cheeks, giving hers to him in return.

“Buffy,” he rasped, pushing himself up on his hands and knees to give himself more leverage, “I want to watch you from here,” he explained, pushing into her, never taking his eyes from her green orbs. Every other gentle thrust or so into her, Spike leaned down and kissed some part of Buffy’s beautiful face. Without meaning to, unable to help himself, he began to recite something, softly to her, that suddenly came to his mind:

‘I have been here before,
But, when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore

You have been mine before…
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at the swallow’s soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall, I knew it all of yore.

Then, now, perchance again!
O round mine eyes your tresses shake!
Shall we not lie as we have lain
Thus for Love’s sake,
And sleep, and wake, yet never break the chain?


Buffy broke down and began to weep when Will had finished his poem, it was too much emotion at once. More then she had ever felt at any one time; overwhelming, endearing and overpowering for her.

“Baby,” Will stopped thrusting gently, looking at her with concern, “was it that bad?”

She wept openly, shaking her head fiercely, “no,” she finally choked out weakly, “it was just so beautiful. It made me happy, sad and well, kind of shy all at once.”

William dropped his body on top of her, spooning her into his strong arms while kissing her everywhere he could reach his lovely lips.

“It’s true, Princess,” he whispered, nuzzling her and beginning his gentle rythym once more. “We have loved like this once before; love like this doesn’t just happen, it’s written in the stars and heavens. And whether we are asleep or awake, the chain of love between us will never be broken. Believe me, Buffy.”

She nodded and thrust up to meet his movements, “I believe you. I’ll always believe you, Will.”

Later, after they had cum together, they lay on the bed, entwined in such a way that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

“I love you, Buffy,” he murmered.

“Love you too, baby,” she whispered back.

Will chuckled, “what?” she asked innocently with a blush. “It’s just that when you call ‘me’ baby, makes me feel all tingly inside, Princess.”

Buffy began to giggle again, “tingly? The Big Bad of Sunnydale says ‘tingly’?”

William pulled her even closer to him, “want to feel tingly all over again too?” he asked, raising his left eyebrow and smirking.

“Oh yeah,” Buffy answered with a breathy moan, snuggling into him, “no question, we’re going to both feel really tingly, all night long!”

He ran his long fingers down her arms to her hips, causing her to shiver in delight.

“Was that one of your poems, Will?” Buffy asked shyly, “it’s beautiful.”

He smiled and shook his head, “nah, sad to say it’s not. My poetry sucks Buffy, surely you remember how bad it was, back when?”

She propped herself up on her right elbow, “I remember some of your prose, sweetheart, it was pretty good, honest.”

Spike gave her a ‘huh’ look and actually blushed, “come on Buffy, don’t push this. You know my stuff sucks and I’m not sure this is going a direction I like.”

He smiled anyway, just to make sure she understood that he wasn’t mad, just embarrassed by the poncey turn of conversation.

“No, really,” Buffy persisted, “I remember some of your stuff, you read me some once. Please recite some of yours, Will, please. It would make me so happy, honest.”

With a shake of his head, Spike began to run his hands over Buffy’s rump and around to her front side, trying to change the subject, take her mind off the poetry nonsense.

“No,” she chuckled, clasping his persistent hands, “I want to hear some of William the Poet’s prose. I’m not backing down here, baby. Give it to me!”

Again, Spike raised his left eyebrow, “give it to you?” he asked in mock surprise. “Yes, give it to me! Your poetry, for now that is!”

So, with a sigh of defeat, Spike began to recite his terrible prose from years before.

‘At least one thing’s for sure,’ he reasoned, blushing from embarrassment, “Buffy’ll recognize that the poetry is all about her.’


Once he had embarrassed himself completely, by reciting a good thirty minutes of his bloody rotten poetry, Spike buried his head into Buffy’s chest and groaned.

“That was the most embarrassing thirty minutes of my life,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

“It was lovely, Will,” Buffy gushed happily, “just lovely. It made me cry!”

True to her word, when Spike looked into his love’s eyes, he saw real tears there, ‘just wonder if their tears of joy or pain?’ he wondered ruefully.

“Let’s eat!” he suddenly blurted out, remembering the food he’d brought with him for Buffy. Jumping up from the bed and pulling her with him, Spike trotted into the kitchenette, dragging her along.

“I’ve got champagne, baby,” he chortled, “we’ve got strawberries and cream,” he turned and gave her a wicked wink, “some bread, that brie you love, oh, lets’ see, hmmm.”

Buffy actually pinched his bare bottom with her beautifully manicured fingers, “okay,” she sighed with resignation, “buy me off with food, I’ll take that. But, Will, your poetry ‘is’ beautiful, I mean it.”

He gazed down into her emerald green eyes with adoration, “so are you, Princess,” he whispered, nuzzling his face into her cheek, “I love you more then life.”

 

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