Spinning the Wheel 00 - Prolog

The bright Californian sun was blazing down on Sunnydale like it wanted to roast the little city, two hours away from any of the big shopping domes that made the life of a twenty year old woman worth living.

Instead Buffy Summers and her best friend Willow Rosenberg had decided to pay the local mall a visit and get some new shoes. Well, as far as shopping went when Buffy was on her ride, the pretty blond girl turned out with two new skirts, three tops and some other accessories. But no shoes.

Now they were sitting in the car Buffy's mom had lent them and they were driving down Sunnydale's main street. The radio was blaring some bubble gum pop and the two young women were singing along. Both horribly off key. But they didn't care, nobody was listening and even if, the music was so loud that anybody who was eavesdropping wouldn't have heard them anyway.

"So. are you coming to that Porter hall thing on Saturday or are you still on the mope-train?" Willow turned down the radio, looking at her friend.

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know yet. Maybe. Ask me again on. say. Friday."

"Buffy, you should really get over that guy. If that was really his point than he wasn't worth it anyway. It's eating you inside out and I don't have enough best-friend-time with you anymore. I'm the one who's suffering here." Willow put on her mocking scowl and Buffy smiled wryly.

She really didn't want to talk about what happened with Riley. She hadn't loved him the way he wanted her to and than he'd left. So be it. Nothing to talk about. But whenever she thought about it, she felt a pang in her heart. No matter how far she tried to push the pain away.

"Ok, than count me in. I'm not getting enough best-friend-time either. I can't stay home all the time. Mom's hyper-concerned and Dawn's a pain in my newly skirt-cladded ass."

Buffy shook in faked disgust and the two women giggled. Yeah, they really needed more time together. She missed the time when she was hanging out with Willow and Xander during High School. But now they were in college and Xander was working in the construction business and didn't have that much time for them either. It was a shame. Plus Willow, who had realised that she was playing for the other team a year ago, had a girlfriend, and they were hanging out a lot more often They were both living on campus while Buffy was still at home with her mom and her little sister. So they only met during classes or when they went shopping like today.

"God, I love that new shirt I bought. It's a blast." Buffy burst out when she thought about her new achievements.

"The pink one?" Willow asked. She was a little startled by the suddenout burst

"Yep."

"It's definitely an eye-catcher, that's for sure. You can wear it at the party."

"Oh yeah." Buffy thought about it for a moment. The idea about the party started to get better and better. She really did need some outdoor fun. "Will. do you think that Ben guy will be there ?"

"The medicine-man who's in your phyc class? I think so. He never misses a party. You like him?" her friend asked and a smile spread over her lips. She loved to hear about everything new on the love-boat and when Buffy was interested in a new guy, that was a bonus. She hated it to see her best friend suffering.

"I don't know. he's cute." Buffy shrugged.

"Just cute or cuuuute?" Willow put a heavy emphasis on the u and made a big gesture with her hands.

A slow smile spread over Buffy's face. Willow had caught her. She really thought that Ben deserved a lot more u's than a lot of other guys at college and after the disaster with Riley he seemed like a nicer guy.

"He's so sweet." Buffy blurted, making the same big gesture with her hand as Willow did before, letting go off the steering wheel for a second. The car leered to the left, almost leaving their side of the road, but Buffy caught it again before she could crash into somebodyor something. "Have you seen him when he chews on his pencils? That's so cute." Yeah, she sounded like the typical high school girl that she has been a couple of years before.

"You're looking for the little details, that's a major crush indicator." Willow exclaimed, nodding.

"I don't have a crush." Buffy tried to defend herself, looking at her friend and leaving the street unattended. "I just think he's a sweety, that's all."

"Buffy! Watch out!" Willow suddenly screamed, pointing out through the windshield, her eyes wide like saucers, her mouth gaping open.

Buffy's head wiped around, her high heel clap foot slammed on the brake. The tires screeched on the pavement and the car's back broke out. She caught again, but it was too late.

CRASH!

Something dark had appeared on the street before the car. Although Buffy had tried to stop in time, it was too late. The crash had been inevitable. Now, the car stood on the street, the tires had left a good portion of rubber on the asphalt.

Buffy stared through the windshield, her hands on the steering wheel. She couldn't move, she couldn't blink, she couldn't breath. Everything had stopped, the car, time. Everything.

Willow was the first who snapped back into reality and left the car. The redhead stumbled around the car, kneeling down in the front, disappearing from Buffy's sight. After a couple of seconds, she reappeared, staggered back to the car, grabbed her purse and roamed through it.

"Aha." She breathed as she found her cell phone and dialled. After a few seconds the connection was made. "Hello? Emergency? My name is Willow Rosenberg, we had an accident on. Resident Drive. Can you send an ambulance please? Thank you." She hung up. "Buffy?"

The blond didn't move. She was still staring ahead, immobile.

"Buffy!" Willow shook her shoulder and Buffy blinked.

"What?" she croaked, her voice dry and hoarse. "What happened?"

"You had an accident. Are you ok?"

Buffy shook her head to get a clear site. Then she looked down at her body. "Yeah. yeah. I think so. What's." She couldn't say it. She knew that she had crashed into something but she couldn't say it.

"Good. Get out of the car." Willow disappeared again, shrugging out of her cardigan and kneeling down in front of the car again.

Finally Buffy collected all her shock-crushed-strength and opened her door. Her knees felt like they were filled with jell-o and she grabbed the door for balance, her whole body was shaking.

No, that couldn't have happened. She couldn't have had an accident right now. What if she had hurt somebody, what if.

"God, damn it, woman. I'm bloody alright. Leave me alone." A male voice came from the front the car and than Buffy saw it.

A wheelchair lay toppled on the street, one of the wheels still spinning slowly. Willow was crouched beneath a young man who lay a few feet from her car. His legs were twisted in an odd angle that just hurt from looking at it. And he was struggling against the red head's help. She had folded up her thin jacket and tried to put it under his head. He had a nasty cut on his forehead which was bleeding. His hands were bloodied, too, were they must've scraped over the pavement.

Now he was sitting up, his weight propped up on one muscled arm. With the other hand he tried to adjust his legs in a more comfortable position - mostly to the eye of any other person.

"You." He glared up at Buffy and now she could see his face and she just gasped. His blue eyes were sparkling furious with anger, his jaw clenched and his lips tightened over a stifled curse. "Can't you keep you bloody eyes on the street, damn it?" he growled, leaning over on the other arm, trying to come near the toppled wheelchair.

Oh please no. This couldn't be true. It wasn't true. She must be dreaming. She had crashed into a guy in a wheelchair of all things. Of course any crash that involved crashing into people was bad but this guy was sitting in a wheelchair. He couldn't walk. 'Great Buff. Big hit, really.' Buffy scold herself.

"Oh god, I'm so." she covered her mouth with her hand, unable to come with something reasonable.

"What? Sorry? Well, don't be. I don't need pity from people like you." He snorted, inching closer to his wheelchair but still not close enough.

"Ehm. Sir. I think we should wait for the ambulance. That wound looks really bad. Somebody should have a look." Willow tried to stop the young man, grabbing his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"I said leave me alone. I don't need your help." He spat at Willow and the red head retreated.

The second he grabbed for the wheelchair, sirens blared through the street and the ambulance came around the corner, it's brakes screeching to a halt a couple of feet from Buffy's car.

Two guys in dark blue uniform jumped out of the back , one with a huge emergency suitcase in his hand.

"What happened? Who called us " He looked between the young man with the aggressive platinum blond hair, the red head and the still pretty shocked Buffy who could just stare at the scene.

"That was me." Willow answered as the other man knelt down beside them. "We crashed into his wheelchair. He has a wound on his forehead." She informed and the bleached blond guy shot her an annoyed look.

"Sir, let me have a look at that, please." Before the young man could answer the medical orderly grabbed him by the chin and turned his face toward him. "It's just a cut, no stitches will be needed. But we will take you to the hospital for a round about check."

As if ordered the other man stood and returned to the ambulance to get the stretcher.

"I don't need no check. I'm fine. Just tape me up." The blond guy said.

"Sorry, sir. I can't leave you like that. A doctor should have a look at you." With that he stood, too, and turned to Buffy.

"Miss, are you alright? You were the driver?"

"Yeah. I'm. I'm fine. Maybe a bruise or two but." She tried to focus on the man before her instead of the quietly cursing young man she'd hurt.

"Do you want us to take you to the hospital, too?"

"What? No. I'm alright, really. We'll just wait for the police, I guess." Buffy shook her head, she didn't really know what to think or say.

"As you wish."

Buffy stared as the two medical orderlies helped the young man up onto the stretcher. Now, he was swearing loudly, his British accent making it impossible to understand every single word. They put him into the ambulance, storing the wheelchair in the back, too.

"Miss, the police are on their way."

Buffy nodded.

"Buff? You alright?" Now, finally, Willow was at her side and pulled her into a tight comforting hug.

For a few seconds they just stood there. It felt good just to be hugged. This was all too much. The accident wasn't as bad as Buffy had thought before, but she still was the black figure - that turned out to be that a bleach wonder with a black leather jacket - disappearing under her car.

Willow released her slowly and stroked a strand of hair out of the friend's face. Tears were streaming down the blonde's cheeks.

"God, what did I do?" she breathed, her shoulder twitching with a sudden sob.

It felt like the reality was crashing into her just now. For the first time since she'd felt the car bump into something, the world felt real again. The colors had their normal intensity and the sound was in the right volume.

"It's ok, Buffy. Everything is going to be alright. The police will be here any second. It isn't that bad." Willow tried to smile comfortingly but failed miserably.

"I. I hurt a guy. god. I almost killed him." Buffy's hand went over her mouth again as she tried to stifle another sob.

"No, you didn't. He's going to be alright." The red head hugged her friend again.

The police finally arrived a few minutes later. One of the officers talked to the medical orderlies, the other one came up to the two young women. He took their addresses and the details about the accident. The officer was in his mid fifties and was eyeing Buffy suspiciously like she was accused of murder. Willow came to her help on one or another occasion and he shot her the same disgusted look.

He said that Buffy should stay in town in case anything came up after the accident. Yeah, she really felt like she'd killed somebody. But than, maybe out of a flash of fatherly sympathy, the officer smiled.

"I don't think that anything will happen. The young man doesn't seem to be hurt too bad, well. except for the wheelchair thing but that wasn't your fault, so."

Two weeks later Buffy was called into court.

Spinning the Wheel 01 - Judging Buffy

Buffy had barely attended college the last two weeks. She just couldn't motivate herself to go and study. The shock from the accident sat to deep, the pictures were burned into her skull. Although nothing severe had happened and nobody was seriously hurt she felt guilty as if she'd killed somebody.

And her mother? Well her mother had yanked the car keys out of her hand and Buffy knew that she would never drive again, at least not her mother's car. She had always been concerned when Buffy had asked for it, her daughter just had no talent for driving and now this. No, her mother hadn't been angry, she was glad that Buffy was well and alive, but she was disappointed and now the trial. Luck wasn't really on their side.

Now, Buffy sat on her chair, shifting from one site to the other. Her black skirt with the crisp white blouse felt uncomfortable like this whole situation.

This wasn't a real court trial cause she wasn't twenty-one yet but it was equally horrifying. The judge, an african-american woman in her forties was reading in folder and nodded once in a while.

The young man she'd crashed into, sat in his wheelchair behind the other table, a small young man beside him who was talking to him the whole time. His layer, presumably. He looked like business wasn't running that good and he was hungry for everything you threw into his way. His suit was cheap and didn't fit the way it should, his hair was combed back with too much hair gel. "Ladies and Gentlemen." The judge announced, taking of her glasses. "We are today to come to terms about the accident, is that right?" She addressed to the opposite party and the young man in the ill fitting suit stood.

"That's right, your honour. This woman has crashed ruthlessly into my client and."

"I know, Mr. Skinner." The judge interrupted. "I've read the file. And I still don't understand why you brought this to me."

"But, your honour." Skinner started again but she interrupted a second time.

"I know, now will you please sit down?" And so he did. "Miss Summers, are you aware of your situation?" She addressed to Buffy.

Buffy rose to her feet. "Yes, Ma'am, I know. And I. I can just say that I'm terrible sorry." She blushed.

"I know, Miss Summers. So here is my decision. Since Miss Summers isn't of age yet we can't put up with indemnification here. But since it hasn't been you're only incident I can't let you go, either. So I will put you on probation."

Buffy gasped and stared at the judge.

"Don't be afraid, Miss Summers. Your probation will be 20 hours in community services."

"What? You let that chit go like that? She's a danger for the public. She nearly killed me." Now it was the young man who exclaimed furiously.

"Mr Rayne, would you please watch your tongue? I don't appreciate that in my court room."

He raised his hands in defence and sunk back into his wheelchair.

The judge thought for moment, than a slow and thin smile spread over her lips. "And I just know how Miss Summers could spend her probation best." The judge's gaze drifted between the two parties.

"What?" Buffy blurted.

"Oh you've got to be joking." Rayne burst out.

"No, I am seriously not. It seems like a nice right idea to me and since you have that handicap, Miss Summers could lend you hand."

"Oh I don't need lended hands, thank you. I'm just fine on my own."

"Mr Rayne, this is my court room and what I say will be done, do you understand me ? Miss Summers will spend her 20 hours helping you out, no contradiction."

With that the judge rose and left the room through a small door in the back of the room.

Buffy stared at the door. She couldn't believe it, it just couldn't be true. She has to spend twenty hours in community service, that was just great. She could've dealt with working at a kindergarten or something like that but not that guy of all things. She felt guilty as hell as if she'd put him in that wheelchair herself and he hated her guts. That would end just fine. He would probably put her in a maid's dress and let her do the really ugly housework, he would treat her like a slave.

***

Her mom gave her a tight hug as Buffy went up to them. Joyce and Dawn Summers had been sitting in the back of the courtroom.

"Oh baby, I'm so glad that everything had turned out that way. It could have definitely be worse."

"Mom?" Buffy stared at her mother. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"Preaching to the choir, luv."

Buffy's head wiped around and she stared at the young man who was just passing by when she'd talked to her mother. He shot a very, very pissed off look and Buffy froze. She could just look at him as he continued his way, the lawyer at his side seemed pretty disappointed.

***

"And now you have to go up to his apartment or what?" Willow asked on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, so I was told. Everything else is up to him, whatever he wants me to do, I have to do."

"Oh. poor Buffy."

"Yeah, poor me." Buffy slumped down on her bed. "it It just isn't fair. Why him? Why can't I go and watch little kids or play Parcheesi with the old folks. No, it has to be him. I guess he'll come up with a whip or something. He hates me."

"Well." There was a pause on the other end. "I mean, you nearly killed him. Is he supposed to love you for that?"

"I didn't kill him. He just had a cut and a few bruises, nothing more. Not enough to hate my guts for that matter." The blond twirled a strand of her hair around her finger.

"He doesn't hate your guts." Willow assured. "You have pretty lovely guts. you know what I mean. I bet he doesn't hate you, he's just. angry. That's all. I guess when you go up to him everything will work out."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. We'll see. Oh. ehm. I have bad news, Will." Buffy slapped her forehead that she almost forgot to tell her friend.

"What?"

"I can't go to the party. Mom grounded me." She said pouting.

"She did what?" She could hear Willow gawking on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah, she grounded me for as long as my probation runs. Just that hour of community service fun and college for the next twenty days including the week-ends."

"Oh really poor Buffy. But don't worry, there'll be another party and there will be other chances to address you to the market."

"Oh you're so generous, Will."

"Hey, best friend here. I'm always here to your service."

"Talking about services, I need to get that paper done. Tomorrow I don't have time due to that service-thing I'm damned to do. Do we met before class?"

"Sure thing. Bye then."

"Bye."

The two women hung up and Buffy flopped down on her back. She sighed heavily. She didn't know what was worse. The thought of the paper she had to write or the hour she had to spend with that Rayne guy.

Well. definitely the latter. She knew even now that it was going to be horrible. She didn't know how to talk to him. Not only had she involved him in an accident but he was also sitting in a wheelchair and she always had problem with handicapped people. She just didn't know how to treat them. On the one hand they were normal people but on the other hand they had something that you stare at when you first see them.

Oh boy. this was going to be hell on earth.

Spinning the Wheel 02 - Doomsday

Buffy looked at the address on the slip of paper in her hand than glanced up at the façade of the house. Yep, she was right.

The house was built in a very pretty Mediterranean style, the yellow and orange tones created a warm and comfortable aura, totally opposite to the things Buffy imagined would come up at her in the next hour and in the next 20 days.

Slowly she approached the entrance. If felt like she was going to her own execution, she really didn't want to do this. She could spend her afternoon with load of more thrilling things, like meeting up with Willow and Tara at the Espresso Pump or something like that. But no, she was damned.

There were four names at the door. Rayne was the last.

She pushed the button, waiting for the communication to spring to live. There was a static crackle in the line as a rough voice answered.

"Who's this?"

"Ehm." Buffy muttered. "This is Buffy Summers."

"Bloody hell." came the muffled answer. Like hell, she wasn't supposed to hear that. But she hadn't enough time when the door opener beeped with an ill sound and she pushed the door open.

A staircase was leading up and around an ancient looking elevator. Buffy picked the stair. Since there were just two floors it wasn't that bad.

As she reached the second landing she saw the door on the other site open ajar. Carefully she knocked and stepped in.

The place was dark. No, not the carpet, that was in a pretty apricot tone as far as Buffy could make out, there wasn't just enough light. Although the sun was shining outside, the apartment was barely lit. The curtains were all drawn and just through some slits, subtle light peeked into the room.

The hall lead right into a huge living room. It was more than a combined living-kitchen area with the kitchen placed in the far end and separated with half a wall and counter. The living-room looked as if someone had camped there, with a blanket and a pillow lying on the couch. Food cartons were piled around it and on the coffee table and there was the faint smell of old pizza and cigarettes in the room.

"So you jump right to the lurking then?"

Buffy jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around.

There he was, staring up at her. The front of his grey t-shirt was soaked with sweat and a few beads were glistening on his forehead.

"Ehm. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just. I didn't know where you were and."

"I was working out. I usually do that around this time, so get used to it." he snapped, rolling past her into the kitchen. He moved in precise motions like he'd a lot of time to practise

.

"You were working out?" Buffy asked and she could've slapped herself for that stupid question right after the words left her lips.

"Gosh, the cripple is working out. Can you believe it." he said in a mocking tone, moving into the kitchen. He came back with a sports bottle of water in his lap.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be." She started. Yep, this was going to be hell. She didn't know how to cope with him and his. handicap. He wasn't an alien or something but she just couldn't deal. Every word could offend him.

"You didn't mean what? Look, I don't need pity from you or anything, understand?" he said angrily, totally ignoring that she was standing in the way so she had to step aside. She was following him into the hallway and entered another room behind him.

This room was lighter than the rest of the apartment. And it looked like a gym.

"Would you please stop following me around?" he whirled around, staring at Buffy.

She sighed. "Look, I just wanted to ask if. if there is anything I can do for you. I mean if you want me to do anything." God, that sounded like she was handing herself over to him freely, following the slave-theme her mind had painted out already.

"No, I don't want you to do anything for me. I'm fine on my own, I'm not a baby." he pronounced every word precisely.

Buffy threw her hands up. She didn't know what to do anymore. She'd tried. She really did, being polite and all but he was just as stubborn as a. yeah, as a baby.

"God, I don't deserve this." she muttered under her breath. "I'll just wait in the living-room, so you can sign my hours when you're done with your exercising." She waved her hand around the room pointing at some of the weights lying scattered on the floor.

He was staring at her, his mouth slightly open. "What was that?"

"I said, I'll go wait in the living."

"You think you don't deserve this?" he spat at her, his hands clenching about the armrests of the wheelchair. His whole face grew tense, his eyes were sparkling furiously. "You think you don't deserve being here? Well, listen up, missy. Do you think that I deserve this? That I deserve sitting in a soddin' wheelchair for the rest of my damn life? You think I like depending on other people to open the door for me or taking stuff down from shelves at the supermarket? I don't. I hate to get up everyday, knowing that I will never walk again. That I will be trapped in this thing till the day I die. So come on then, tell me who's the one with the big luck in this scene."

Buffy could see him quivering like he was going to explode any second. She stepped back a little and swallowed. She didn't know what to say. Usually she could come up with a witty answer to everything but this time she stayed silent. There wasn't anything to say to that, because he was right. And she hadn't thought about it.

"You better go wait in the living-room then." he nodded and turned around, leaving her standing in the doorway.

***

The minutes passed by slowly. Menacingly slowly.

Buffy sat on the couch. She had folded up the blanket so there was space to sit. Usually she wasn't too much for the housework, at all, but this was different. What he'd said had hit her, more than she'd expected, more then she would ever confess. She had been stupid, horribly stupid. She had stumbled into this situation just thinking about how much she would suffer in this. That she was the one with the bad luck.

But now she knew the other side of the medal, the one she hadn't giving a thought, not even when she'd entered this apartment. This young man, she didn't know his first name, wasn't that much older than she was, 26 at the most. He had his whole life stretched out before him but he was going to make his path in a wheelchair. Like he'd said, he was trapped.

Buffy was young, too, but she could still decide which way to take, which turn to follow. But he was forced to go where the wheels were leading him. He couldn't do whatever he wanted like she could. She was in college and after that. who knew what she was going to do. But he had his life already set in stone. He wouldn't become a famous football player or an actor or something like that. He had to sit there and watch all the other people around him becoming what they wanted.

Her eyes drifted, those depressing thoughts in mind, over the rest of the living-room. Before, she hadn't the time to take everything in. And in the far corner, behind the dinning table in front of the counter, she saw what made her swallow. The thoughts came back popping into her mind.

She stood, walked over to it and knelt down beside a glistening, blue electric guitar. It stood in it's holder, waiting to be picked up and played on. On the guitar's body was a silver engraving reading 'Spike'. Buffy's fingers slid over the polished wood and over the strings, making them hum quietly.

"Would you not touch that, please."

His voice startled her again. She didn't even expect him to move the quietly.

"And if you say you're sorry now I'll throw you down the stairs. Can't hear that phrase anymore." he interrupted as Buffy opened her mouth. She shut it and just nodded instead. "So, I have to sign that you've been here, right?"

"Yeah, ehm. " She walked over to the couch were she'd left her purse. "You need to sign this." She pulled out a folded piece of paper.

He'd moved over to the table and she placed it before him, along with a trashy pink pen, she immediately felt ashamed for. His eyes roamed over the paper, taking in it's content. Then, he looked at the watch on his wrist, wrote down the time and his name.

"Sir, can I ask you something?" Buffy started, fumbling the hem of her shirt. She still felt pretty uncomfortable around him, not only because of the incident earlier.

"Car accident three years ago, been in a coma for a couple of days but they patched me up again. Said I could never walk again, so here I am. Does that cover your question, Miss Summers?" he said frankly while writing.

"Ehm, that wasn't exactly was I was going to ask." she said, but she was glad that she finally knew. The question had been burning in her mind since she'd seen him in court.

"What then?" he asked. He seemed inpatient, like he couldn't wait for her to get out of his apartment.

"I was... who's Spike ?" Buffy asked, blushing. Yeah, it wasn't the best question to ask but it was a start.

"That's me." he shrugged, turning away from her to roll over into the kitchen. There, he threw the empty sports bottle that had been resting in his lap into the trash can. "It's a nickname. You can call me that, for all I care."

"Oh, ok." Great Buffy. Usually your such a smart ass when it comes to witty replies and now you behave like an idiot.

"Look, Miss. I really need to get a shower right now and your time is up anyway. You can go."

"Oh please, call me Buffy."

He nodded and there was a moment of awkward silence between them until Buffy snapped out of her trance, grabbed the sheet of paper and the pen and stuffed it back into her purse.

"Well then." She turned towards the hallway and started for the door.

"Buffy?" Spike called after her. The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. Since they'd met for the first time two weeks ago, he almost sounded friendly.

"Yeah?" She turned around again, facing him. Yeah, there was a kind glitter around his eyes this time.

Spike hesitated. He had other words in mind but he couldn't say them. "You'll be back tomorrow then?" he said instead.

"Sure." Buffy nodded. She knew he was hiding something, she could sense it behind his façade. She didn't know him long enough but he was a horrible liar. "Same time's ok with you?" she added.

"Not that I could go anywhere. See you tomorrow then." With that, he turned around, heading back into the kitchen and out of sight.

Buffy sighed quietly, then headed for the door and left the apartment.

***

Spike just sat there for a couple of minutes before he turned around again, rolling into the living-room and towards the corner where his guitar was standing. He looked at it for a moment, then lowered his hand towards it's neck, lifting it into his lap. His finger slid over the strings, playing a few notes without a specific melody.

His gaze dropped to the floor and he closed his eyes. His hands were shaking, unable to play any more.

How long has it been since he'd played the last time? Three years? Something like that. Not since the accident, that was for sure. He couldn't bring himself to play, just like now. A few notes, nothing more. It was too hard, too painful to remember.

Within fragments of seconds everything had been lost. When he remembered it it seemed like hours passing by in slow-motion, although it had just been a few heartbeats. The two cars on the rainy street, the argument, the screeching of breaks, the crunching of distorted metal, the splash of blood on the wind shield and the blinding pain in his legs.

Spike shook his head, forcing the pictures out of his mind. But it was impossible. He could ignore them for some time but they were burned into the back of his eyes, like the negative of an old photo. His hand clenched around the guitar. If he had enough strength he could snap it in two. With a deep sigh he put the instrument back in its place.

Then he turned around, facing the mess that was his apartment. That was his life.

That Buffy-girl was a menace. Not only was he was sure that she wasn't even allowed to drive a car without the presence of an adult, she was an arrogant little bitch who never gave a thought about other people. She stumbled into a situation without a second thought, her tongue was faster than her brain. Great. And he had to spend 19 hours with her. He just had to keep her busy so that she wasn't a thread for him with her questions and apologies. When there was one thing in the world he hated more than being trapped in that wheelchair, it was the patronising look of all the people around him, If there was a smell for pity, they would reek of it, a nasty, penetrating stench soaking them through and through.

Reluctantly he rolled over to the couch, picking up the pizza and Chinese food carton that had piled up there for a couple of days. If he did that bit of housework himself, he could keep her from poking her arrogant teenage nose into his business.

Spinning the Wheel 04 - A Walk In The Park

Buffy sat down on her bed, turning her purse upside down to shake out it's contents.
Somewhere in her glorious collection of lollipop wrappings, bills and whatnots she'd lost her spanking new lip-gloss she would desperately need when she went to college the next day.

She roamed through the pile until she found it. With a triumphant "Aha." she twisted it open and applied some of the glossy substance to her lips. The faint scent of peaches drifted to her nose and she inhaled deeply.

Suddenly, Buffy frowned.

Keys? She'd left her keys in the hall down by the door. What the heck.? Oh no.

The blond woman grabbed the keys that lay within the pile on her bedspread. "Great."
She'd forgotten to put Spike's keys back in their place in the hall of his apartment. She must have stuffed them into her purse when she'd juggled with the grocery bag and the door and now she'd completely forgotten them.

Not that he'd leave house, she assumed, but he must think that she had stolen them or something.

Buffy bit her lower lip as she let the keys slide through her fingers.
She hadn't given them a second look, just a couple of keys. But now she gave them a closer look.

Besides the key for the main door and the one for the apartment, there was a car key, indicating the fitting lock as the one of a Ford Mustang. And there was a tiny brass Union Jack dangling from it. The colors were embedded into the metal and the slight golden shimmer gleamed in the light of the lamp.
And there was a little silver guitar dangling from the key-chain. It was a miniature duplicate of the one at Spike's place, including the engraving.

Buffy looked down at the small guitar, a sad expression flickered over her face. She remembered his hesitation and his snappy comeback as she'd asked if he was still playing. It must've been hard, being in a band and all and suddenly he couldn't perform anymore. Of course, he still could but like he said, he wouldn't fit on stage.
The accident kicked him out of the team.

Buffy sighed deeply.

God, why did she even care? It wasn't her job. She just had to go there a couple of days more and that would be it. She didn't need to go back there anymore, didn't have to see him anymore, didn't have to worry what too say and what not.
Being with him was too exhausting and it depressed her.

***

"Hello?" Buffy called into the apartment and pushed the door open. She didn't want to trespass, you never knew what people were doing without a watchful eye.

As she stepped into the apartment, she heard the rattle of metal from down the hall.

Buffy frowned and made a cautious step forward. What the hell was he doing in there?

"Spike?" she asked carefully as she went down the hall, heading towards the door that led into his training-room.

"What?" came the strained answer and Buffy rounded the corner and stepped into the room.

Her mouth fell open for a second before she caught herself as Spike looked up at her.
He was sitting under one of those crossbars you pull down behind your head, beads of sweat glistened on his bare chest, muscles rippling under his too pale skin. His legs were strapped to the bench to keep them from slipping away.

When he saw her he let go of the bar and the weights slammed down behind him, the metallic clatter hollowing in the room. As the weights came down Buffy jumped slightly at the sudden clatter.

"You're early. Didn't expect you." he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

For a moment, Buffy could just stare at him. She was completely paralysed by his unexpectedly toned body. He told her that he was working out the other day, but she hadn't expected that.
But another thing that caught her attention, were the massive scars on both of his legs. They were all too visible beneath the short sweatpants. One was running down from his left thigh over the knee and faded at his shin. The other one started at his right shin a disappeared at his calf.
Those scars looked nasty, Buffy had never seen anything like that before.

"You still in there?" Spike asked, looking at her more intently, a cocky smile playing around his lips.

"Huh?" Buffy snapped back into reality and shook her head to get some clear thought back into the mix. "Yeah, I'm. I came here right after my classes. Is that okay? I can go and come back later." She pointed her thumb at the door, almost turning around to leave.

"No, it okay." he answered and unfastened the straps around his legs. "I was done anyway."

He pulled the wheelchair that stood about a foot away a little closer, thumbed down the brakes to keep it from rolling away and rested his hands on the armrests.

"How did you get in here? I didn't hear you ring." With that, he lifted himself up, spun around and sat down in the wheelchair.

Buffy watched him for a second. This movement looked so well trained that it almost hurt to see how much he'd got used to sit in that chair.

"I didn't." she said with a little hesitation. "I forgot to put the keys back yesterday. I let myself in. Sorry about that." Buffy felt the heat creep up in her cheeks although she didn't know why. It wasn't as if she's walked into some kind of. inappropriate situation or anything like that. Why did she even care?

"No need to be. I don't need the keys anyway. I don't go out much." Spike adjusted his legs into a more comfortable position, as much as it was possible to do so since he didn't feel his legs.

"But you should." Buffy blurted. Where did that thought come from? Was she going completely around the bend? What was she doing here? She really should stop caring. There was no need to all this was just temporary because she'd made a mistake, nothing more.

"Pardon?" Spike looked at her as surprised as she was about that statement. This girl was even more weird than he'd thought.

"I mean. " she hesitated again, blushing a little more. "You should go out a little more." Well, duh, Buffy. You're the queen of pointless and totally stupid conversations. "I mean."

"And I mean that it is none of your business where and when I go. If you don't mind, I'll go and have a shower." He moved past her, shooting her an angry look.

Buffy stood there for several seconds, she didn't move, she didn't even dare to breath.
She couldn't understand what happened just then.
First of all, there was the half-naked-glory that was burned into the back of her mind from now until forever.
And second, there was this oh-so-stupid statement she'd made out of the blue. It just came out. Actually, it wasn't that bad but he seemed to take it for more than it was. And now he was all angry again. Why not? This couldn't get any worse, really. She thought they were starting to get along better after he didn't seem to care that she'd taken his keys and now they were all the way back into the hate.

The blonde shook her head, snapped out of her reverie and walked over into the living-room.

***

Water was pouring down his back as Spike leaned forwards, his hands resting on his knees, his head bowed down.
He has a special construction built in his shower that made it possible for him to almost sit in it. He had just turned on the hot water and hadn't moved since then. The sharp needles of the spray prickled on his skin as he tried to get the aches and knots out of his muscles.
He knew he should be having massages but he just didn't feel like it. That - again - would mean other people who cared. He really had enough of those. And he had bigger problems than some kinks in his back. The first priority was to get that Buffy out of his life as soon as possible. He knew she couldn't help being here, it was her probation task, but he had to keep her at bay.
Maybe he should just give into some of the things she said, feeding her with what she wanted to know. Maybe that was the best way to keep her from poking into his business.

***

Half an hour later, Spike appeared in the living-room, wash and dressed again. Buffy thanked the Lord for making him not show up without a shirt again. That was a major distraction she didn't need.

"So?" he announced his presence in the room and Buffy looked up.

She'd been sitting on the sofa, fumbling with the hem of her shirt, thinking about how to make up for the thing she said. As he appeared, she stood.

"Look, I'm. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean that back there. It just came out. I know that. it it's none of my business what you do and what you don't do. I just." she knew she started to ramble but she wanted this thing to be over and done with.

"Buffy." he interrupted. "It's okay. You're right." A too thin smile spread on his lips and Buffy looked startled.

"I'm what?"

"You're right. I should go out more often. You wanna drink a coffee with me at the Espresso Pump?" Sounds good, he added in his thoughts. It seemed like the nice, right tactic to keep her on the leash. If he gave her that she'd be satisfied.

Buffy didn't know what to say for the first moment. She'd expected that he'd shout at her to stop sticking her nose into his life but that. That was weird.

"Ehm, sure. Sounds good to me. I need something from that gift shop anyway." She smiled at him, trying to cover her confusion.

"Great." Spike nodded briefly, twisted around and moved into the hall to grab his jacket from a hook beneath the small cupboard where Buffy had dropped the keys earlier. "Mind if I take the keys now?"

"I already apologised for that, ok? No need to bug me." Buffy snapped and stopped in her tracks when she saw Spike's grin as he held the door open for her.

"Ease up, Buffy. I'm kidding."

Buffy frowned and passed by him, waiting outside in the hall. Was she in the wrong movie? Did she miss something? Suddenly Spike's behaviours bordered were friendly. Since he'd left the shower, he really talked to her and smiled. They knew each other for about a week and he never really smiled. A tiny flicker in the corners of his lips but this time it almost touched his eyes, too.

Why was he suddenly talking to her like they were some kind of friends? Like he actually liked her? Should she give into that? Better not. It was better to play it safe and wait to see what this was all about. This way she could manoeuvre around his next mood swing.

"You should take the stairs. The elevator is too small for the two of us." Spike pushed the button and the elevator rattled it's way upstairs, the door buzzing open with a quiet *bing*

"Okay, I'll wait downstairs then." Buffy turned around, heading down the stairs.

She didn't see how Spike entered the cabin and pushed the button for the first floor. And how he was twisting around easily. The cabin wasn't actually too small. It wasn't big but he simply didn't want her to be too close.

***

The Espresso Pump was crowded this afternoon and they had to wait a few minutes to get a table they both could sit at.

Buffy headed for the counter to order their drinks. A cappuccino with a shot of vanilla for her, and a simple mug of black coffee for Spike.
As she carried the cups back to their table the strong smell of the coffee drifted to her nose.

"How can you drink that stuff without half a cow of milk and tons of sugar?" she asked, carefully setting the cups down.

"You get used to everything. Coffee's my drug of choice." Spike shrugged, pulling the cups towards him and staring into the pitch black brew.

He knew people were looking at him. They had all the way from his place into town and they did now, eyeing him from the corners of their eyes, asking themselves how he got into the chair and how a young girl like Buffy could hang out with him. He knew they were pitying him and he hated it.

Buffy stirred her drink to mix the cappuccino with the vanilla syrup. The sweet smell was definitely better than the coffee.
The way he'd said that he got used to it, gave her a sting in the heart. It sounded sad and resigned.

"So." she started after a while of awkward silence. She wanted to say something without knowing what it was.

"Yeah?" Spike looked up and took a sip from his drink, preparing for her questions to him in the gut.

"You're. ehm. working out a lot, huh?" Hurrah for the stupid question, Buff. You're so smart.

Spike nodded briefly. That was an easy one. "Yeah, I have to. I wouldn't be able to move with this thing, and in and out of it without some muscles." He nodded down towards the chair and shrugged again.
He tried to make it sound as casual as possible to keep her from asking any further about it.

"Aha." And here goes the intelligence. Buffy could slap herself. She wanted him to talk to her to ease up the uncomfortable silence but she didn't know what to say. Instead she was making a complete fool out of herself.

"You're in college?" he asked after a while. Not that he cared, he just wanted her to say something.

"Yeah, I'm in my second year." she nodded, burying her nose in the milk-foam and wiping it away with a napkin.

"What do you study?" Come on. say something consisting more than two and a half syllables, keep the conversation going.

"Well, I did psych last year, but the professor went missing, the hell knows where she went. I tried pop culture but got kicked out in the first lesson cause I talked to my neighbour and now I'm trying sociology and I'm taking a theatre class for fun. But I'm not too much of a school gal. My best friend Willow got the book smarts." Buffy rambled. She was glad she could talk about something she didn't have to worry that it hurt him.

"Willow's the redhead, I guess. The one who called the ER team?"

"Yeah. There you see the smarts. I was totally paralysed." Buffy looked up and saw Spike's jaw clench over that word. "No. pun. intended. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"You don't need to apologize every time. I'm aware of my situation, no need to remind me." he snapped, sipping intently his coffee, his eyes fixed on the rim of the mug.

Buffy sat back for a second. There it was again. The kind of friendly atmosphere had popped like a bubble and there was the tension and the hate again. She had to do something about it or they both would die from it in the long run.

"Look, I'm just trying to get along, ok? I haven't been in such a situation before, this is new for me. I don't know what to say to you so I won't piss you off. Whatever I say you get all grumpy on me and when I try to apologize I'm only fueling the fire. Either we find a way to make this work for the next two weeks or I'll go to the judge and ask her to arrest me for a day to make up for my probation."

Spike looked at her, trying to hide his surprise about her sudden outburst. And what he saw surprised him even more than her words. She almost looked helpless to him, confused. To see that look in her eyes made him understand. Just a little but he realized that she really cared. She wanted this to work, one way or the other.

After several seconds passed, he tore his eyes away, looking down into his coffee again.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled, inaudibly to the blonde in front of him.

"What?" Buffy asked, snapping out of her own reverie. The way Spike had looked at her was a surprise for her, too. She'd expected him to jump up and run away. or to sit and spin for that matter. But instead he's just looked at her with these all to blue eyes.

"I'm sorry." he repeated, looking up again and meeting her eyes. "I'm. I'm not good at this. I don't. have such a good way with people. I don't have much contact with them." he felt embarrassed to say that, revealing so much, more than he ever thought he would. It wasn't much but admitting that wasn't his usual amount of sharing.

"Why?" Buffy asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could think about it.

Spike sank back into his chair, fumbling with the saucer. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers again and for the first time since they'd met they really looked at each other. Her eyes held even more concern then before although she tried to cover it as best as possible. She was really interested, something he hadn't seen in people for a long time.

And his eyes bore more than Buffy wanted to know. It made her shiver despite the warmth and the hot cappuccino. She saw so much pain, loss and hurt that it made her sick to her stomach. How could he just look at her and reveal thousand times as much as he could have said? He was hiding things behind a thick wall of trained self-control, things he was struggling with and that she didn't want to dip into, things that were bad, things that hurt more than anyone could bear without going around the bend. Secret she didn't want to reveal, memories she didn't want to stir.

"I. withdrew from them, pretty much." he said in a calm voice, nothing reminding her of the possible rage that was close to the surface. "And those who still tried to connect to me, I chased away shortly after." This, too, sounded so resigned that Buffy felt a sting in her heart.

"Don't you have any family around?" she asked. She had noticed his British accent, counting alone the curses she'd heard from him since they'd met.

"No, they are either back in England or dead. Mostly both." he shrugged, twisting the mug around on the saucer, before picking it up and lifting it up to his lips.

"Oh." Buffy wasn't able to come up with something better than that. She was wondering if he had a girlfriend. She hadn't seen any girl stuff at his place so far, no lipsticks or perfume in the bathroom, no left clothing in the living-room. But she couldn't ask. Although it seemed like they were connecting on some level now, she couldn't go that far. "But. ehm. how do you. I mean how do you manage. everything without any help?"

"As I said, you can get used to everything." He quirked his eyebrows and twisted his mouth in a pseudo-shrug. "I. developed kind of a system, like putting my stuff into the bottom drawers, replacing glass with plastic and so on. I try to be as independent as possible."

Is that right, Buffy thought but bit back the words. These were possibly the most words in a row she'd heard from him so far. She didn't want to ruin the moment.

"But you. you should try." she said instead, biting her lip. Suddenly, she felt the urge to cheer him up a little. She couldn't stand people around her being sad or depressed.

"Try what, luv. Be a little more specific on that one, will you?"

"I mean. you should try to. meet people. I don't know, maybe you should go out more often."

"Like hell I well."

Suddenly the moment was gone. The open hearts were closing their gates again. There he was again, snappy and grumpy as always.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just think about you should give it a try. And maybe you'll see that not everyone is all about pity. Maybe you'll find somebody who really cares." Buffy continued despite the ruined atmosphere. She wanted to bring forth her point before everything got spoiled.

"I know." he admitted. "But I just can't, ok? Leave it how it is, I'm fine with it."

"Okay, your choice. Do whatever you like, for all I care." Buffy shrugged. She was disappointed that he didn' t give in to the thought. Not that she wanted to go out with him or anything, it was just when she had to spend her social hours with him she wanted them to be as social as possible.

***

Silence sank between them. But it wasn't as awkward as it had been before. The first tension was gone now. They had made clear their position.
She knew that it was just his way with people that he couldn't pretty much be in company. And he knew that she just tried to make it work, that she wasn't extra-curious, she just wanted to deal with it as smooth as possible.

"We should. go back. Your hour's almost over." Spike moved back from the table, waiting for Buffy to nod and rise, too.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I need to go to the gift shop. I need some decoration. You wanna join or.?"

"No, there are. stairs" he felt a little embarrassed to admit this and snorted in disgust.

"Yeah, I forgot. Well. see you tomorrow then." She nodded and smiled.

"Sure. So long, then." With that he turned around, moving down the main road towards his apartment.

Buffy watched the young man for some time. He didn't turn around to catch her staring at his back.
Today, he'd surprised her. She didn't know how much pain he had bottled up inside. She didn't want to know exactly what it all was about because she imagined it to be horrible but now she knew what she was dealing with. She knew how to treat him best without pouring salt into the wounds too much.

They would get along better now. She was sure of it.