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Chapter 9 - Where Do We Go From Here?


Where do we go from here?

The words seemed to echo through Spike’s brain as he stared blankly at the woman in his arms.

The woman in his arms.

There was a woman in his arms who was not his fiancée, while said fiancée was preparing for their wedding.

Something that probably resembled guilt must have been reflected in his eyes as he looked at Buffy, seeing that she dropped her own gaze and awkwardly moved to disentangle herself from his arms and his body.

Picking up her discarded clothes, Buffy felt the first wave of embarrassment begin to set in as she hurriedly began redressing. Feeling the need to fill the uncomfortable silence, she glanced at Spike. “Look, this… we both know that this was just a moment of insanity, so no need to make a big deal out of it,” she said, nervously smoothing her hair, unable to look directly into his eyes.

“Do you love him?”

Jerking her head up at the abrupt change of topic, Buffy stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“Xander,” he muttered, as if saying the other man’s name was physically painful for him. “Do you love him?”

“I… I’ve known him my entire life,” she replied, stumbling over the answer. “Of course I love him.”

“I don’t mean as a friend.”

“I know that,” Buffy snapped.

“Do you?” Spike retaliated, a menacing look in his eyes as he approached her. “You wanna know what I think?”

“Not really,” she said, looking up at him with barely suppressed anger.

“I think you’re scared,” he replied as if he’d never heard her response.

“What? I’m not-”

“I think you’re afraid that you could find someone you could genuinely love. Someone who could love you back. And that would mean taking a risk.” Spike paused, raising an eyebrow as he watched her take in what he was saying.

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to hold on to what was left of her composure as she met his steady gaze. “And what if you’re right?” she asked calmly. “Is that so wrong? Is it such a bad thing to find someone who I can feel safe with?”

“Not wrong,” he replied, with an almost sad smile. “But it doesn’t feel exactly right, does it, love?”

The question was rhetorical, but Buffy felt compelled to answer it anyway, even as she choked on whatever words she wanted to say.

“I don’t think you’re happy with him,” Spike continued, hooking a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “I think you both deserve better than what you’re offering each other.”

“And what about Jordan?” Buffy replied, finally finding her voice, seeing the confusion in Spike’s eyes at the uncharacteristic response.

“What about him?” he asked, his eyes searching hers as he waited for her answer.

“It’s better that I find someone who’s good for him,” she said, her voice cool and emotionless. “That’s more important than finding someone who’s good for me.”

“Buffy-”

“He needs a father,” she interjected, looking away when she realized what she’d said. Closing her eyes at the implications of it, Buffy took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“That right?” Spike said, his voice low and unreadable.

Wanting to look at him to see what he was really thinking, Buffy bit her lip as she took a few steps away, keeping her back turned on him. “I’m not shopping for a father for him, if that’s what it sounded like. Xander was just… he was so supportive throughout the pregnancy, and he was with me in the hospital and… when he asked me out on a date, it just seemed like a logical step.”

“I’m not letting another man raise my son,” he replied, his voice deceptively calm.

Finally turning around to face him, Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. “How do you want me to respond to that, Spike?” she asked in a tired voice. “‘I’ll give up everything I’ve worked for and move to L.A. to be closer to you and your new wife’? ‘Let’s start the legal work and you can have custody of my child before the month is out’? ‘Set me up as your mistress and Jordan and I will be set for life’? There‘s no answer that can be accomplished between the two of us.”

“You’re not particularly cute when you’re being sarcastic,” Spike said in a dry tone.

Buffy sighed, feeling emotionally drained from the hectic day. “Maybe you should go,” she murmured, looking at the floor as she ran a hand through her hair. “We’re obviously not going to get anything settled tonight, and it seems like whenever the two of us are alone for a long period of time… badness happens.”

“Didn’t seem so bad earlier,” he replied, his voice dropping seductively as he approached her.

“Spike… Anya,” she said, feeling more than a little desperate as she stepped away from him. “You’re engaged, remember?”

Spike paused, cracking his neck as her words affected him. “I am,” he muttered.

Buffy stared at him, seeing the conflict he was going through, knowing that she was experiencing a version of it herself. And yet, still wanting to walk into his arms and let him take her away for just a few hours before she had to go back to reality.

“Please go,” she whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat, hating herself for the signs of weakness that seemed to be displayed all over her face.

“We have a lot to work through,” Spike said softly.

Buffy looked at the floor, blinking back tears as she nervously worried her bottom lip. “We can work through everything when Xander and Anya learn the truth… or at least, part of the truth,” she corrected, shooting a nervous glance in Spike’s direction before looking away. “But right now, the consequences of being alone together are too…”

Tempting.

The word seemed to run unspoken through both of them.

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, nodding as he repeated, “You’re right.”

Closing her eyes when he walked toward the door, Buffy inhaled sharply as she listened to the sound of his footsteps taking him farther away.

Looking over his shoulder as he reached for the doorknob, Spike clenched his jaw, taking in the image of her, looking so small. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, spinning around and closing the distance between them.

Buffy looked up in surprise when she was spun around, locked firmly in his embrace, Spike’s hand bracing the back of her neck as he stared into her eyes. Reaching a decision, his fingertips caressed her cheek. “Fuck the consequences,” he growled, smashing his lips to hers.






Thanks so much to: DaniD, jeanie, demona424, Brittany, Pam S, gotkona, spufette, saettie, Tuesday, willowmouse, jennybean, bozakka, pj, shelly, dirktavian, SarahandJamesFanatic, Caatje, hotlipedjen, Brunettepet, Cordykitten, baby spikes & Delicia for reviewing!





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