Four years later…
Buffy eased her way into the police station. She didn’t really want to be noticed. She didn’t even want to be here but she had to be. If she was ever going to have a life outside of her parent’s house then she had to face the past. A past that she had been shielded from by everyone she knew. Neither the doctors nor her parents had given her the truth when she had asked. They just wanted her to forget so they could.
And she could never forget what was done to her even if she couldn’t remember all the details. It was some of those missing details that had brought her here.
Methodically she approached the front desk, waiting ramrod straight until the desk officer eventually turned to her.
“I’m looking for Officer William Nagle,” Buffy said. It was one of the things she did know. Her parents considered the policeman who had found her to be a hero and there was awe in their voices when they spoke of him.
“Detective Nagle?” the pretty desk officer actually giggled. “He’s probably up in the detective squad room. Fourth floor. Elevators to your right.” The woman pointed to Buffy’s right as if she couldn’t figure that out.
Buffy nodded and headed for the elevators. She was curious as to why the woman had giggled. Was it at her because she didn’t know he was a detective now? Feeling foolish for her mistake, Buffy stared intently at the ground and pulled her jacket tighter around her. Someone jostled her and she had to fight the fear that rose up to choke her. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she would be fourteen and on her way home from school…
“You coming, Miss?” A uniformed police officer was holding the elevator doors open for her.
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said, rushing forward to join the others in the small car.
“It’s all right,” the man said, pushing buttons. He looked up at her expectantly.
“Fourth please,” Buffy answered, feeling like an idiot. Every cop in Los Angeles was going to think she was a complete basket case before she ever found Officer…no, Detective Nagle. She wondered if he looked the same or if her imagination had played tricks on her over the years.
The doctors had words for her feelings for the young cop who had found her and comforted her. She didn’t pay them any mind and eventually she stopped trying to tell them anything about it. Her drawings of William were kept hidden away while she pretended that she didn’t think of him everyday. She sighed as she watched the floors light up as they progressed upwards into the building. He had probably forgotten who she was. Why would he remember her after four years and probably hundreds of other cases? She was just the bad girl who had gotten caught.
The doors slid open and she stepped out into a controlled chaos of activity. People were darting everywhere, phones were ringing, and it seemed everyone was talking at once. Someone nudged Buffy because she wasn’t moving; once again she apologized as she stepped out of the way. Her eyes scanned the large room but didn’t see him. She took a few steps forward to try again.
“Who you looking for, honey?” A young man at a desk near the front yelled to her. He was holding the phone away from his ear obviously putting someone on hold to help her out.
Buffy swallowed and forced her mouth to work. This much activity was making her nervous. “Nagle, Offic…Detective Nagle is he around here?” She finally managed to squeak out.
“In the back on the right,” the man said, turning back to his phone call and dismissing her.
Somewhere back there, behind all these people was the man she was looking for. It was getting there that terrified her. She wasn’t used to being in public anymore. Three years in Sunnydale Mental Facility and the year after that she had been housebound by her parents who were afraid she would disappear again. It had taken careful planning and a deep commitment to find out the truth to make Buffy leave home that morning. Terror was dogging her every step but she had to know.
Buffy forced her feet to move in the direction indicated. Her shaking hands were wiped along the hips of her jeans as she walked. She kept her eyes low trying not to make eye contact with anyone. She passed each desk looking for him. Each time she was disappointed until she reached the end of the row. There he was. No longer was he platinum blonde but now had soft dark curls and a goatee that made her stomach turn upside down.
“Can I help you, miss?” Spike asked, not really looking up from his computer that he was busy typing on.
Four years and she was finally with him. Four years of nightmares and half truths to finally be on the precipice of finding out what had really happened. It was too much for her. She patted her pockets for the tiny pink pills that always made her calm down. They weren’t there. Frantically she shoved her hands in to search before she remembered she had left them in her bag at the hotel. She had decided she didn’t want her reality to be altered in any way. The only way to get through this was to face it head on. At least it had sounded good when she was safe. Tears started pouring down her cheeks as it became harder to breath. Everyone was staring as she shook uncontrollably.
“Miss, are you all right?” Spike asked, jumping up. “Somebody get her some water.” He pushed her toward the chair next to his desk. She sat without being asked and at first tried to resist but then complied as he shoved her head between her knees. His hand made small circles on her back. “Concentrate on breathing, easy and deep, thatta girl. Keep on.”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered when the room stopped spinning. “Maybe I’m not as ready for this as I thought.”
“Ready for what?” Spike asked, putting a cup of water in her hand and curling her fingers around it. “Drink it slow.”
“To see you again,” Buffy said, bringing the cup up to take tiny sips of the cool liquid. She looked around at all the eyes that were staring at her. “I need to go. I can’t…I can’t stay.”
Standing, she tried to put the cup on the desk but she missed and it hit the floor, the water splashing across her feet. She stared at it for a moment. The water ran along the dirty linoleum just like…blood but had it been hers or from the girl that had shared her hell for a short time? She shook her head to rid herself of the image.
“Come on,” Spike said, moving to stand in front of her. He didn’t even seem to care about the small puddle that was slowly disappearing beneath his shoes. “You’re here already. May as well talk to me.”
“You don’t remember,” Buffy mumbled, wishing there was a way for her to get out of here without having to walk past these people. They’ll lock you away again, the nasty voice in her head whispered. It was an echo of what her mother had told her. If she pursued this they would think she was crazy again. She wasn’t. She knew what she had seen even if no one believed her.
His finger came up under her chin, tilting it upwards so that he could look at her. Those cerulean eyes grew wide with shock as he recognized her. His hand dropped as he stepped back. She wondered if it was in repulsion. She was dirty, the things she had done and that had been done to her.
“Buffy?”
She nodded.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
Spike looked hesitant, unsure for a moment of what to do with her, and then he nodded.
“Let’s go over here,” he said, standing and putting his hand on her upper back again. “It will be more private.”
Under his guidance Buffy followed him into one of the interrogation rooms. He motioned for her to take a chair while he sat across from her. The door was left wide open. Safer for him that way. No chance of being accused of improprieties by an insane woman.
Buffy put her hands on the table, interlaced them then put them flat. She wasn’t sure how to start. She wanted to stare at him. To find out if he was as kind as he seemed to be or if it was a fantasy she had created. Something drew her to him. She had wanted him to take her away four years ago because he made her feel protected.
“Talk to me, Buffy,” Spike said. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me know what’s going on.”
It was logical. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell him what she knew. Then he could pat her on the head, tell her that it hadn’t happened like everyone else and she could catch the four o’clock bus home.
“There was another girl.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. He didn’t say anything. He wiped at his face and her heart sank. He didn’t believe her just like everyone else. It had been almost a year after her abduction that she had started to speak again. And it had been even longer before she had finally spoken of the other girl that visited her in her nightmares. No one had taken her seriously though. The girl had been explained away in a lot of psychological babble. So, she had kept her mouth shut and that was when she started making plans for when she was eighteen. Her birthday had been only two weeks ago.
“There wasn’t anyone else reported missing at the time,” Spike said, gently. “There was no evidence to support that he had hurt anyone else. I’m sorry, Buffy but the case has been closed for years.”
“So, you won’t help me?”
Spike sighed and leaned back in his chair. He studied her for a moment then shook his head. It was over. Years of planning, hoping and trusting in a man to be so easily turned away.
“I need to get back to work,” Spike said. “I’m sorry.”
“Please, just hear me out,” Buffy pleaded. “Listen to what I have to say and if you still think I’m wrong, I’ll leave you alone.”
“All right,” Spike said, standing. “I do need to get back to work.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I should be free around six. Where can I find you?”
“I’m staying at the Hilton on Evergreen.”
“Do you know where the Chinese restaurant on the corner is?”
“Yeah, the Red Dragon?”
“Be there.”
He turned and walked out of the door. Buffy had five hours to figure out how to convince him that she was right. She lifted her head and marched out of the room toward the elevators. The first step had been taken. Spike would help her. Freedom was closer than it had been this morning. Four hours more and it would be even more of a reality.
One more drag of his cigarette. Maybe that’s all he needed to still his nerves that were making his stomach turn flip-flops. Buffy Summers was probably sitting inside that restaurant waiting for him. How the hell did this happen to him? He didn’t want to deal with her. He didn’t want to have to be the one to hurt her again. Shit, he thought as he flicked his fag into the small stream of dirty rain water running along the edge of the street.
There wasn’t a choice. He wasn’t going to run out on her. He would give her at least the courtesy of him telling her he wasn’t the one instead of just not showing up. Besides if she had managed to leave home, take a bus into LA, check into a hotel and come find him, he didn’t she think she would give up that easy. All he had to do was convince her to go home again. Back where it was safe.
Before he could lose his courage Spike forced himself through the door of the Red Dragon. A sense of relief came over him when he didn’t see Buffy in the small waiting area in the front. Hopefully, she had given up and was already on her way home.
“Spike, hello,” Ling, the hostess greeted him.
This was one of his favorite places to pick up dinner on the way home. His apartment was only another block over. It was easy to place an order and have it waiting for him. No cooking, no clean up, lots of leftovers and every once in a while Ling went home with him to share his bed. He smiled at her now.
“Hi, Ling.”
“Your girlfriend waiting for you,” Ling said, turning toward the dining area. “She looked upset. I got her hot tea with honey.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Ling gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him and that she didn’t like that he would bring another girl there. It wasn’t that she wanted exclusive rights to him. She just thought it rude to have another of his lovers in her parent’s restaurant.
Spike was led to the very back part of the dining room where it would be more private. He wondered if that was Ling’s or Buffy’s idea but whoever’s it was, it made him nervous. He slid into the booth across from Buffy. She barely glanced up at him. One hand was in her lap and one hand was holding onto her teacup. He waited until Ling poured him a cup of tea and left them alone with menus before saying anything.
“I see you made it.”
Buffy nodded. He shrugged and picked up his menu.
“Do you know what you want?”
Ling was hovering in the doorway. The only way they were going to have any privacy was if they placed their order.
“I haven’t had Chinese food in years,” Buffy said. “It’s all confusing.”
“Anything you hate in particular?”
Buffy shook her head. He felt like shaking her for putting him through this. He lifted his hand to wave at Ling who came right over. He placed the order for both of them trying to get enough of a variety that Buffy could find something she liked.
Once they were alone, he took a sip of the tea. It didn’t do anything for him. He wished he had a beer but he knew he had to stay clearheaded.
“I talked to your mother this afternoon.”
“I’m an adult now. I don’t need permission to be here.”
“No, you don’t,” Spike said. “I needed to talk to her though. She explained a few things to me.”
For the first time since he had sat at the table, Buffy looked up at him. There was fire in the depths of her green eyes. He was fascinated because he had never seen so much animation in them before. Not like this. No pain. There was only anger flashing from them.
“I know what she told you.”
“What?”
“I have a crush on you,” Buffy said, her fingers tightening on the cup. “I’m here to see if I can make four years worth of fantasies come true. The other girl is just a figment of imagination so that I can say it didn’t happen to me but to her. My coming here is a complete denial of the truth and I want you to make everything better.”
“You don’t?”
“Are you disappointed?”
A little.
“It would be normal if you do.”
“I want to go to college,” Buffy said, as if it explained everything. She leaned back, her eyes fluttering closed as if the conversation had exhausted her.
It didn’t. It only confused him more. He looked at her. His brows knitted together as he stared at her in stupefaction.
“Can you explain that to me?”
“Here is your soup,” Ling said. Her tone was icy as she stared from one to the other. “I hope you enjoy.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Buffy said, watching the other woman walk away. She picked up her soup, dipping the spoon in to stir it around. “Is there snot in this?”
“No,” Spike said, laughing. “Those are eggs hence the name Egg Drop Soup. Do you want my wonton soup instead?”
Buffy leaned over to look at his then nodded her head. The two bowls were exchanged. Spike watched her as she tried the soup. Apparently she liked it because she started eating with gusto. Giving up on her explanation for the moment, he started to eat too. Neither one said anything until the soup was gone. Buffy refilled their tea cups from the pot that Ling had brought them.
“I want to be like everyone else my age,” Buffy said, quietly. She leaned back, pulled her jacket tighter around her, and crossed her arms around her front. She was back to being defensive. “Go to college, learn to drive, have a life…”
“Find a boyfriend?”
“Yeah, but not you,” Buffy said, apparently not caring how blunt she was. “Someone who doesn’t know what happened.”
“Oh,” Spike said. It did make sense. He wondered if she was still going to therapy. Her mother hadn’t said and he hadn’t wanted to be rude enough to ask. He still wasn’t sure that she didn’t have a crush on him. Her mother had told him of a drawing she had made of him with wings and a sword. Buffy’s avenging angel. “So, umm…”
“She told you about the drawings?”
Spike nodded. His face was flushed. He wondered how she knew what he was thinking. It was a little embarrassing to know that someone thought of him like that. He was just a guy doing a job. The worst thing was until he had seen her, his emotions hadn’t been involved. Finding her was just a way of looking better to his superiors. The emotions had come afterwards during months of nightmares and in breaking up with his girlfriend. She hadn’t understood why he suddenly didn’t want to have sex. The details, the reports he had read of what had been done to the girl across the table from him still haunted him.
“She tells everyone about the drawings when she tries to convince them of her opinion of how I feel.”
“And how do you feel?”
“I was fifteen when those drawings were made. At that time I would say, yes, I had a crush on you. I remember what a crush feels like. The way I feel now isn’t a crush.”
Ling came back, laying plates of food on the table between them. She asked them if they needed anything else and when they didn’t, she left them alone again. Spike waited while Buffy filled her plate, thankful that she was eating. Her mother said Buffy would go days without wanting to eat. He didn’t need her to faint on him.
“You didn’t tell me how you feel now,” Spike said as he helped himself to the food.
“Really stuck on this aren’t you?” Buffy asked, twirling Lo Mien around her fork.
“I guess I need to know,” Spike said. “I’m a little uncomfortable about the whole thing.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as she chewed. “I think I may be falling in love with you.”
Spike choked. He started coughing and it was Buffy this time who pressed a glass of water in his hand.
“I meant because you introduced me to Chinese food,” Buffy said, smiling. “This is heaven.”
“Don’t do that,” Spike scolded. “I could have died.”
“Then I’d have to save you and we’d be even,” Buffy said calmly. Her fork was picking up a huge pile of Fried Rice that she quickly shoved into her mouth. “Detective Nagle…”
“Oh, good god, please call me Spike.” She looked at him funny. “Nickname, long story.”
“Spike, I’m sure my mother told you but let me tell you my side,” Buffy continued. “I spent three years in a mental institution recovering, learning to deal with it.” Her voice was cold, methodical, almost detached from what she was saying. “After I was deemed salvaged and able to cope with life on the outside they released me. My parents had other ideas. I was home schooled, I kept taking the little pills that made me feel the way I was supposed to at certain times. I haven’t had any real friends. There’s a few on the Internet but no one in person. No one’s even touched me except in a medical capacity in four years. Not even my parents. Why would I want to start a relationship with someone else that I think would coddle me? I mean you’ve already called my mother because you think I’m nuts.”
“Don’t think you’re nuts,” Spike said absently. He was stuck on something that she had said a few sentences back. “I touched you, several times this afternoon.”
Her hand holding the fork dropped to the table. She swallowed and looked up at him. The sadness was back.
“You took the chains off.”
“So, it comes back to me being your hero.”
Buffy giggled. “You don’t look like a hero now. Hero’s are supposed to be golden in the light but you…” She cocked her head as she took in his new appearance.
“More like a devil?”
“Yeah, something like that. Why did you change?”
“I grew up, I guess,” Spike said. He reached for the last of the General Tao’ chicken and dumped the rest of it on his plate. “So, now that we’ve established, you don’t have a crush on me but I’m still you’re hero.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah and that very important bit about how I look more like a devil.”
“There’s still her.”
“Buffy, there wasn’t anyone else,” Spike said, sighing. “There wasn’t any evidence to support that. The mattress was ancient and had so much DNA on it that…”
“It was there when he brought me there,” Buffy said, tearing up. She crossed her arms again and looked off to the side. “There was rat poop on it. It got on my leg. It was all I was worried about as he put the chains around me. I wanted it off. I begged him to get it off of me. After awhile it didn’t matter.”
Spike shoved his plate away.
“I know what the doctors said about my brain going haywire to protect myself,” Buffy said, looking back at him. “She was a brunette…”
“Your dark side?”
“All these years and no one believes that she was there,” Buffy said, leaning her forearms on the table. She looked him straight in the eye. “Let’s say for a moment she was there, that my brain didn’t conjure her up to protect myself. What if he took her someplace and chained her up like he did me? What if she was never found? What if she rotted away in some basement thinking that no one cared? What if…”
Spike held his hand up. The memories assaulted him in vivid recollection. The stench, the horror of the basement prison, and what had been done to Buffy, it came back to him as if it was yesterday. He stood and ran for the bathroom as his dinner made its way back up.
to be continued…