ALL MANNER OF MONSTERS
Chapter 3: ‘Tell Me Why’
Summary: Buffy explains some of her lies to Spike away. But, not all of them believe me.
Buffy tapped the side of her wine glass, nervously. She had managed to keep up the talk, at the dinner table, going, rather smoothly. However, after Riley had only been gone for maybe twenty minutes or so, Buffy found herself ‘lost’ as to how to keep up the polite conversation. Especially since William, or Spike as he was now going by, kept staring at her. She did so not like that look on his face, either.
‘He looks like the cat that ate the canary,’ Buffy thought, anxiously. This ‘look’ by William, had instigated Buffy’s nervous tapping on her wine glass, which in turn alerted Andrew that things were not quite right here.
“How’s your fiancé?” Spike mumbled to Alec, even as he kept his gaze on Buffy. Buffy noticed that William’s whole demeanor was almost, indifferent?
“Fine,” Alec (Xander) muttered in reply, “just fine.”
Buffy noticed the tension between all of them now, and decided to use Alec’s phone call. If nothing else, to lighten up the conversation, break the tension in the room.
“How long have you known your girl, Alec?” Buffy asked, trying to direct the conversation onto Mr. Harrington. The blond woman smiled brightly and tried to look really interested in Mr. Harrington’s personal life.
“Years,” Alec responded, quickly, apparently quite on to the high anxiety level in the room. He then smiled, warmly at Buffy and sighed deeply. "A very long, long time, Miss Summers." Alec promptly took a large gulp of his wine and focused on the nearest window.
William said nothing, just continued to ‘gaze’ at Buffy,
He had the oddest look on his handsome face. This proved to be Buffy’s complete undoing.
“I need some fresh air,” Buffy blurted out, suddenly. “I’m stepping out to the patio balcony. I hope that’s okay with you two gentlemen,” she said, shyly. “If you need anything, guys? Andrew can help you.”
Buffy tossed her fine linen napkin onto the table and hurried out of the dining area. She disappeared outside, onto the patio balcony.
“I think this is your cue, man,” Xander whispered to Spike.
“For once, I think you’re right,” Spike hissed. The blond man quickly tossed his own napkin onto the table and strode, out onto the patio, after Buffy.
“I’ll just clean things up,” Andrew muttered, nervously. He had not missed a thing between Spike Sinclair and his employer’s mistress. The epitome of discretion, however, Andrew made the appearance of being more interested in cleaning up the table.
“Got any scotch?” Xander asked Andrew, amicably. Apparently, Mr. Harrington had noticed the tension between Buffy and Mr. Sinclair, also, Andrew reasoned.
“Only the best, sir,” Andrew smiled at the dark haired Mr. Harrington. “Mr. Finn keeps only the finest liquor in ‘this’ house,” the young man added, proudly.
Spike found her, his Buffy, leaning over the patio balcony railing, staring out at the view. The valley below was lit up, illuminated by various lights all up and down the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Malibu Canyon was just a huge, dark area, dotted here and there with lights of its own.
However, she wasn’t ‘his’ Buffy anymore, was she? If she ever had been at all that is. Spike peered at his blond Goddess, trying to decipher her very thoughts.
Buffy seemed to be just that, deep in thought, but Spike knew she had felt him join her. Unable to help himself, the bleached blond man leaned over the railing, right next to her.
“Very clever,” Spike chuckled, sarcastically as he scrutinized Buffy’s lovely profile and broke the silence between them. “The play on the four seasons that is,” he continued, “your using the name Winters? As an alias, I mean. Instead of your real last name of Summers? Real smooth, Buffy,” he mumbled through gritted teeth.
Buffy felt the resentment just radiate off of William, but she kept staring out. Concentrating instead on the almost magical, panoramic scene below both of them.
Suddenly, Buffy spun about, to face her ex-lover and nearly growled, “Why are you here? Why the hell are you here, William? For me? To spy on me somehow?” She didn’t mean for the question to come out so harsh, or so very vain.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Princess,” Spike grumbled back in reply. “I’m here on business, nothing more.” He did avoid her ‘glare’ though, by staring out at the view from the balcony. Wouldn’t do any good to let Buffy know exactly how much he, Spike, was here for her.
“Oh,” Buffy murmured, softly with a bright blush on her pretty face. “I see,” she sighed as she stepped past William and headed for the sliding glass door. “Just as well,” she mumbled, somewhat disappointed that William hadn’t sought her out.
“Buffy,” Spike called out to her in desperation, “don’t go in yet, please,” he pleaded. He hurried to catch her, grabbing her slim arm, gently in his hand.
She halted her escape and turned to face him once again. “Why shouldn’t I? Like you said, this is strictly business, right? You don’t give a damn about me, right?” Buffy whispered the question, almost afraid of the answer, while she felt the sting of unshed tears in her eyes.
“Like I said,” Spike repeated, “strictly business. But then again,” he continued softly, “I’m most likely lying about that, aren’t I? You don’t have a corner on the lying market, sweetheart. I guarantee it”
Spike reached out and tenderly lifted Buffy’s little chin up, so her green eyes could meet his blue-eyed gaze. He watched Buffy’s lovely face, carefully, as he clocked her reaction to his own questions.
“True,” Buffy sighed, sadly, “after all, you did tell me your name was Giles, didn’t you? Back then, I mean. Apparently, you did a little fudging with names yourself, right?” She pulled her face away from his tender hand and tried to walk past him, yet again.
“You’ve got me there,” Spike sighed, sadly. Spike grasped Buffy again, even less harder then before. He could not let Buffy know who he really was. Not at this time, anyway. But maybe someday he could tell her everything.
“You, you are here, for me, aren’t you?” Buffy whispered in a raspy voice. The tone in her voice made it sound like she’d had a major epiphany or something. Her green eyes were wide in stunned realization of the truth.
“You’ve come here to what,” she continued gruffly. “Take me away from Riley? Save me? Just ‘how’ have you come here for me, William?” She tilted her head to one side, her green eyes wide with curiosity and maybe a little fear.
“I’m not going to lie to you, anymore, Buffy,” Spike sighed heavily. “I did come here, on business, but I wouldn’t have even considered it at all. Not if you weren’t part of the deal here. Understand?”
“Understand. I think I do anyway,” Buffy murmured softly, as she slowly walked back to the railing. Spike joined her quickly, again and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket.
“You didn’t used to smoke, did you?” Buffy asked, confused by the offending cigarette.
“Nope, not until about five years ago,” Spike responded as he lit the smoke. “Lousy habit,” he continued, “but I like to smoke, I’m afraid. My one weakness, I guess. Except for you, that is,” he finished with a sarcastic chuckle.
After taking a long, hard drag on the cigarette, Spike looked again at Buffy. “Why did you disappear on me, Buffy,” he questioned her, gently. “Why did you just take off back then? I thought we had something special and you just…”
Buffy turned and faced him. That’s when Spike noticed, really noticed how fearful her beautiful green eyes were.
“I’m twenty-four-years-old, Will,” Buffy spat at him. Then she looked out over the view again, ashamed at herself for using such a harsh tone with him.
“I know that,” Spike countered, evenly. “I did my homework before Alec and I got here. I know all about you, now, and your sick fuck of a boyfriend.” He didn’t even try to apologize for the profanity he used.
“That’s rich,” Buffy snorted, “my boyfriend is sick? What about you and your buddy in there?” She pointed at her dining room, through the sliding glass door, presumably at Xander.
“You two aren’t exactly boy scouts, now are you?” She asked, defiantly. Only after crossing her arms over her ample chest, tightly. She felt it gave the whole thing a touch of drama, at least.
“You have no idea,” Spike mumbled, almost whispered really.
“So, you know I’m twenty-four, you did your homework, right?” Buffy continued sarcastically. William just nodded, silently, but never looked away from her.
“Then do the math, genius,” Buffy said gruffly, “that means I was barely seventeen when you and I met, right?”
“Right,” Spike whispered sheepishly. He suddenly felt very ridiculous standing there, confronting Buffy in her own house.
“Can you spell ‘jail bait’ William Giles?” Buffy spat, but smirked wickedly. “Or should I say, Spike Sinclair?”
“You lied to me, about that, too. Remember?” Spike replied, defensively. He kept her gaze with his, not letting up on his scrutinizing of her wide, green eyes. The anger inside of him began to melt away, slowly. Especially, after she gave him that ‘deer in the headlights’ look of hers. The one he remembered so well from seven years ago.
“You told me that you were nineteen, Buffy. Guess you lied about more then your last name, huh?” He felt the old familiar ache begin to gnaw at his throat and chest. The one that almost consumed him, totally. Every time he remembered San Diego and spring break. Just exactly how Buffy deserted him there. How she broke his heart.
‘Oh, just bloody great!’ he chided himself. ‘I’m such a fucking ponce. If I cry, I’ll…’
“What about you?” Buffy interrupted Spike’s inner conversation in his head. “You told me your name was Giles and that you were going to be the next big famous journalist or some such shit as that!”
She offered him a smug, victorious grin, just for good measure. After all, William ‘had’ told her that his last name was Giles and that he attended Berkeley U. as a journalist major. What about that line of bullshit?
“I was a journalist major, Buffy,” Spike sighed heavily and glanced out at the beautiful night scene before them. “Decided to go into the family business and all,” his deep voice trailed off, nearly to a whisper.
‘At least that’s mostly the truth,’ Spike reasoned with himself.
“What about you,” he countered her question with one of his own. “What happened to the art thing? Thought you were gonna’ take the art world by storm?” When Spike saw that crestfallen look in Buffy’s gorgeous eyes, and the sad frown on her pretty mouth? He felt like the scum of the earth for asking ‘it’ that way.
“I was,” Buffy replied in a timid, almost shy voice. “I guess, like you,” She continued meekly, “that I’d decide to go into the family business too.”
Spike felt his heart skip a beat, realizing for not the first time, that Buffy’s ‘family’ had a lot to do with what and where she was now.
Henry ‘Hank’ Summers, Buffy’s father, had been connected with the Finn Family for years. Even probably before Buffy was ever born or thought of at all. Her mother, Joyce, was a big shot artsy type, with a nice little gallery in Sunnydale, California.
‘What’s she saying?’ Spike wondered silently. ‘That daddy and mommy set her up with Riley Finn? That…’
“Was ‘he’ in the picture, Buffy? Say, even back then?” Spike didn’t have to say the name of Riley Finn. They both knew exactly who he was talking about.
“Is that why you left, Princess?” Spike continued, almost sorry that his words sounded so damn harsh. “Mommy and Daddy would be too pissed off, if you ended up with a loser like me? Wanted their baby girl to marry some low life, mob boss who kills people without a second thought?”
“Christ, Will,” Buffy hissed angrily, turning away from him once again. “You have no room to talk here, let’s face it. I’m sure your slate isn’t exactly spotless. Yours or your partner’s out there?”
She glared at Spike, her little face bright red with anger and something else that he could not quite name.
Without thinking, Spike reached out and clasped Buffy. He pulled her, roughly, to his body and leaned in to kiss her lush little mouth.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Buffy cried in shock.
“I…” Spike stammered, suddenly very unsure of himself. He hated the way this tiny slip of a girl could make him feel. But, he couldn’t help himself; he loved her and had for years.
“I was planning on kissing you,” he finally admitted, quietly.
“Right here, in my boyfriend’s house?” Buffy gasped in indignation.
“Well, technically,” Spike began with an evil smirk, “we’re outside of his house and…”
Oh, God,” Buffy hissed in frustration. Instead of running from him, or turning away from him, she faced him, head on.
“I want you to understand something, William, or Spike or whatever the hell your name is. I think it’s time you understand the past, then maybe you can face the future. Maybe we both can,” she added wistfully.
“Go on,” Spike muttered, evenly and lit another cigarette. He watched Buffy through narrowed blue eyes.
“I ‘deserted’ you, seven years ago for more then one reason. None of them, not one, had anything to do with Riley Finn. Okay?” Buffy matched William’s narrowed blue eyes with her green ones.
“Okay,” Spike shrugged, “so Captain Cardboard wasn’t in the picture, just yet. Then, why? Why did you leave me, alone, in San Diego after the most fantastic two weeks of my life?” His voice just dripped with heartbreak and resentment.
Buffy rolled her green eyes, especially at that ‘Captain Cardboard’ remark of his.
“I left you, in San Diego, yes, after the most wonderful two weeks of ‘my’ life, Will. However, certainly not because of Riley. I had no idea of my parents’ plans for me, where Riley Finn was concerned. At least, not at that time.”
Spike flinched, visibly and whispered, “Then why did you lie to me?” His voice was raw with pain.
“Because I was only seventeen William,” Buffy choked out the answer. “I was only seventeen and you were twenty. You were twenty, right?”
“Right,” he replied, simply.
“Okay, I was seventeen and yes, I wanted to be an art student, more then anything in the world. I was, actually, just not at Santa Barbara State. I was in high school, Will,” she sighed sadly. “I was a junior in Sunnydale High School who was on the run that spring. I was running from my overbearing, controlling parents and everything being the daughter of Hank Summers meant.”
Buffy began to weep, softly, and Spike so wanted to take her in his arms and console her. However, he controlled the urge to comfort and just stood, stoically in front of her.
“My parents had no idea that I had run off from them to San Diego. They thought I was at my cousin Faith’s, in Los Angeles. She covered for me, Faith that is. Instead, my best friend, Willow Rosenberg and me flitted off to San Diego and hit up the best ‘break’ parties. False ID’s, highlights in our hair. We did it all to pass ourselves off as older girls.”
“It worked,” Spike murmured. “I really believed you were nineteen, Buffy,” he added sadly.
“I know,” Buffy nodded, miserably. “I wish I had of been, just so I wouldn’t have to run off from you later. Do you know what my old man would have done had he’d found out what you and I did together?”
‘Of course,’ she thought, bitterly, ‘daddy did find out, later, but then again? He had no idea who ‘you’ were, Will. Did he?’
“Besides,” Buffy continued in a sorrowful tone, “if you ever knew who I really was? How old I was? Who my folks were? Come on William, you? Being a journalist major? Eventually, you would figure out who my father was? Who he was even connected with?"
“I wouldn’t have cared,” Spike hissed stubbornly. “I wouldn’t have given a bloody fuck who the hell you really were or how old you were. I loved you. Love you still and…”
“I think you better leave now, William,” Buffy stated abruptly. Her demeanor and stance turned cold, suddenly. “Go on back to your hotel, with your buddy Alec and forget that we ever had this talk, huh?”
“I don’t want to leave. God dammit Buffy, don’t walk off from me, not again!” Spike grabbed at her, but she slipped past him and hurried into the house.
Spike waited, a few moments, tried to get his emotions under control, somewhat. Then he entered his nemesis’ house, slowly.
Andrew was waiting, in the dining area, when Spike entered a few moments later.
“Where’s Buffy?” Spike asked the butler (?) gruffly.
“Miss Summers offers her apologies, Mr. Sinclair,” Andrew mumbled quickly. “She has a headache and retired for the evening. Miss Summers hopes that her behavior is excusable and…”
“Its fine, Andrew,” Spike replied with a raspy sigh.
“Andrew?” Spike turned to face the young man again. “Do I and Miss Summers a favor, please?”
Andrew nodded, but said nothing.
“Please do not mention this incident, our being on the patio alone together? To Mr. Finn that is?” Spike gave Andrew a kind of warning look and was stunned when the young man grinned in response.
“Oh, no sir,” Andrew nodded warmly. “I may ‘work’ for Mr. Finn, Mr. Sinclair,” he continued amicably. “But my loyalty lies with Miss Summers, first and foremost.”
‘Tell My Why’ (by The Beatles)
‘Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me;
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me.
Well I gave you everything I had,
But you left me sitting on my own.
Did you have to treat me oh so bad,
All I do is hang my head and moan.
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me;
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me.
If there’s something that I did or said,
Tell me what and I’ll apologize.
If you don’t, I really can’t go on,
Holding back these tears in my eyes.
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me;
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me.
Well I beg you on my bended knees,
If you’ll only listen to my pleas,
Is there anything that I can do,
‘Cos I really can’t stand it, I’m so in love with you.
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me;
Tell me why you cried, and why you lied to me.’
A/N: Well, I’ve pounded out another chapter this weekend. My oldest daughter took my youngest daughter out to see Star Wars and I’m alone to write.
Now, this chapter in now way explained all of Spike and Buffy’s past with each other. I know. Don’t worry, that will all be revealed, eventually.
Anyway, thank you for reading and please review. Luv, Spuf
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for reading and your reviews.
Luv, Spuf
Luv, Spuf