Spike leant against the doorframe of Buffy’s bedroom. He looked around; it had not changed much since he had last been here. He wished he could say the same about himself.
She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening in shock. She still looked as beautiful as she did the last time he had seen her in the hospital. Eighteen long months had passed. The tour had started and finished, the new album released and had gone multi platinum, not to mention the slew of awards. Yeah, life should be great.
“Hello Spike,” Buffy’s tone was cold.
From the outside looking in, he had it all and to a certain extent, he did. Nonetheless, he did not have her. All that he ever wanted was in this room. The room he found his love, lost his virginity, laughed, cried and loved. All he ever needed could be found in this room, "New Kids on the Block" posters and all.
He stood in the doorframe waiting for permission to enter, not wanting to overstep his mark. This made him smile. He had in so many other ways overstepped it.
The album had never meant to be about her. The songs he wrote in hospital and after he had left, was never meant for public consumption. He had written them as a way of moving through the happiness and the pain. He started playing one of the songs at the sound check on tour.
“That’s new,” Angel said as he listen to him sing the song. “It’s good; we should add it to the set tonight.”
He raised his eyebrow in response. “I don’t think so mate, this one is for personal use only,” he took his guitar off and sat it down on the amp.
“It might help.” Angel offered.
“With what?” He asked.
“Moving on.”
The words hit him like a steam train. Moving on. It was what he had to do. The album had been a way for him to work through their relationship; it was his form of therapy. He wanted to contact Buffy when it was released; give her a heads up on what was coming. However, he could not find the words. Maybe she would not know about it. The twenty weeks at the top of the album chart took care of that question, as did the swag of awards he had won.
Journalists always asked him, ‘Was the album written about anyone in particular?’ He never lied. If he owed anything to their relationship, it was the truth. He never mentioned her by name and he only spoke of her with the upmost respect and kindness.
“Come to give me my royalties check?” Buffy asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“So, I guess that answers the question, have you heard the new album?”
“I’m an intern in a hospital Spike, not a hermit in a cave. Yes, I heard the album.”
He looked down at his feet hoping they would help him find the words to explain his actions.
“It’s a great piece of work. You deserve everything that is happening to you.”
He looked up shocked. That was not what he was expecting.
“Are you going to stand there all day or do you need an invitation?” She asked. She turned and continued to unpack her bag.
“Didn’t know if you wanted me here,” he shifted his weight against the frame.
She looked up from her bag. “I get that. Last time we saw each other, I wasn’t exactly welcoming.”
He walked towards her. “I seem to recall there some welcoming taking place,” he smirked, as he looked her up and down. She still looked as good as ever, still stirred the same feelings within him.
“Is that what they call it these days?” She laughed, “So Spike ‘rock star’ Giles, what have you been up to?” She moved her things off the bed and sat down motioning for him to do the same.
“Don’t,” he winced as he sat down.
“Don’t what?”
“Call me Spike. I am not Spike, not here of all places.”
“Ok Will, what are you doing here?”
He looked down as he picked at her bedspread. “I saw your mom at the grocery store last week. She mentioned that you were coming home for a vacation. I thought we could catch up. It’s been a while,” he looked up and caught her gaze.
“A lifetime it seems,” she responded. “I’m a doctor now, own stethoscope and everything.”
“Your mom did mention that several times.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, to say she is proud of me is an understatement.”
“She is not the only one. I am proud of you too, for what it is worth.”
She reached over and placed her hand over his. “It is worth a lot to me Will. Through everything your opinion of me has always mattered.”
“I didn’t want to write about you.”
The hurt flashed across Buffy’s face.
“What I mean is, I wrote about you, us for me. It was a way for me to sort out the jumbled mess in my head. Writing it down made things clearer somehow.”
“I get that,” she nodded her head.
“The guys heard me playing one of the songs in sound check, they liked it, wanted me to add it to the play list. I didn’t want to hurt you any more, but they pressured me. Buffy, I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Sure, I didn’t like hearing our relationship play out in song. Nevertheless, the songs are beautiful Will. You should be pleased with all your hard work. You deserve all the accolades and more.” She meant what she said.
“I tried to be happy with it all, the number one hits, the awards, but it was all tinged with sadness. To have such success through all that pain, it didn’t seem right.” She was the first person he had voiced these fears to. He knew no one else would understand it.
“You are one of the lucky ones Will. Some people go through the pain and heartache and have nothing to show for it. At least you have some good come from all the bad.”
He smiled at her words. Same old Buffy, even in the bad she saw the good.
“I missed you,” Buffy whispered.
He was shocked at her words. He was not expecting that.
“Me too,” they sat on her bed staring at each other, taking in the presence of the other. Their bodies inched towards each other slowly as if they were moving against their will.
They broke from their trance, as their mouths were inches within each other. Will stood up from the bed.
“I’m sorry,” they said in unison.
“I guess I had better get going then.” He started to move towards the door.
“Do you love me Will?” Buffy asked.
His hand stopped turning the doorknob. Not looking back at her, he said, “I never stopped.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Buffy, you were the first women I ever loved. The only women I have ever wanted to love.”
Buffy’s heart filled with love at the words.
“It’s not enough for us remember.” He opened the door to leave.
“What if it is? What if I was wrong?”
He turned and made his way over to her.
“Don’t play with me Buffy. I may act all tough, but when it comes to you and my heart, I am as fragile as glass.” His eyes searched hers trying to see if she was playing him for a fool.
“I’m not playing you Will.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“You left me Buffy; told me our love wasn’t enough. Walked out didn’t even look back,” the hurt came crashing back in waves. “I can’t do it again.”
He turned to leave, as he did, something caught his eye. On the bed was his copy of ”Great Expectations”. The copy he had thrown out in the hospital. ‘What was it doing here?’
“Where did you get that?”
“Umm, I bought it,” Buffy searched her mind for a workable excuse.
“You came back,” the realisation hit him like a harpoon through the heart.
“You had gone,” her tone cold.
“There was no reason to stay. What about now Buffy? Is there a reason to stay now?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for everyones support for this fic. We are on the home straight now. Enjoy