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Chapter Twelve: Wrong Number

It was hard after hearing the news and dealing with her emotions with Spike to have fun. So after two days with the Scoobies, Buffy went on home.

Spike spent those two days wallowing in self-pity. He hated himself for not having the courage to go to her and apologize. Finally, a day after Buffy left, the gang came by to spend the day with him.

“Where’s Buffy?” Was the first question out of his mouth, when he saw Anya, Xander, Willow, and Tara standing before the door.

“She went home, you big…stupid guy.” Willow said, venom dripping from her sweet tongue.

“What do you mean she went home?” He asked.

“It was odd really. She spent three days in bed, crying without an explanation to me or Xander, looking like she fell down a flight of stairs, and found out about her mother being sick.” Anya said, walking to the living room with her arms across her chest. The group followed. “You look like you got hit with a big fist on your jaw. It wasn’t Riley, was it?”

“No, it was my brother.” Spike replied.

“Why would Angel-“ Xander began.

“It’s a B-Buffy thing.” Tara interrupted.

“I’m sorry.” Spike replied, looking in Willow’s direction. The redhead just nodded.

“What for?” Xander was oblivious to the situation.

“L-let’s not worry about that n-now.” Tara said, nodding at Spike.

“Joyce is sick? Since when? How?” Spike was astounded once it registered.

Willow put on a frown. “Yeah, a while now. She found out she had a brain tumor when Buffy started planning the wedding. She didn’t want to get in the way of the happy day, and decided to wait until Buffy was on her honeymoon to go through with surgery. She’s fine now.” Willow assured him, warily.

“You should go back to Sunnydale, and comfort her.” Anya made a circle with her fingers, and put her finger on the other hand through it fast. “I could feel the sexual tension the other day.” She replied when Spike gave her a shocked expression.

“Bloody hell!”

*

Buffy stood in the basement separating her laundry, when she came across one of Spike’s black t-shirts. She put it up to her nose, and inhaled his scent, tears streaming down her cheek. She could hear foot steps down the creaking stairs and tossed the shirt in with the colors. She turned, expecting to see Dawn, or Giles, since her mother was in bed resting, but it was Riley.

“Riley…” She whispered his name, and soon she was rushing in his arms, and he was holding her as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Shhh…Buffy, it’s okay. You’re here now, with me where you belong.” The words came out, but Buffy didn’t accept them.

“No Riley, this isn’t where I belong, that’s why I’m like this. I have to tell you everything.” She had to get it off her chest. Through sobs and her story, she could see Riley’s anger, but he understood.

That’s what made Riley so perfect, he understood. He was quick to comfort. “I always saw the chemistry between you two. That’s why I didn’t like him.” He informed her of his feelings for Spike.

“I don’t know what to do…I love him.” She said.

But then the clouds grew dark, and he wanted her for himself. “If he wasn’t quick to forgive, Buffy, you just have to stay away from him for a little while. You have to figure yourself out.”

He was clear in his opinion, and Buffy allowed him to hold her in the middle of the basement.

*

The phone rang four times, before it was finally picked up. “Buffy?” Spike questioned.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, bleach boy.” Riley said, in a harsh tone. The truth was, Buffy was asleep and Riley kept her company. He tried to get closer, he could deny his love for her, but she only pushed him away.

“What are you doing there, White bread?” Spike felt his anger rise.

”I know what you did to her, how you treated her, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s safe from you.” Riley was seething with hatred. He knew if Spike stood away, Buffy would come back to him, marry him like she was supposed to in the first place. “I was the only person she trusted enough to tell about Angel, and you got the other end of the bargain, so I think it’s best that you leave her alone. Forget her, because she won’t be thinking about you.”

Spike slammed down the receiver, rage consuming him. He made his way into his room, taking the framed picture of him and Buffy and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall, and shattered. He went back into the kitchen, and searched until he found what he wanted. He spent the rest of the night, drowning his sorrows in liquor.

*

“Who was it, Riley?” Buffy asked, coming down the stairs.

“No one, wrong number. You should go back upstairs and rest.” Riley said.

“Can you come? I know it’s stupid, but without Spike…I have a hard time. Maybe you could just lay here until I fall back to sleep.”

“Of course I can.” He put his hand on the small of her back and led her upstairs.

*A/N: Sorry guys, but in order for this story to develope, I need to show you their attempt to move on. You guys aren't going to like the next two chapters but hang in there. Another thanx to Ash...and more feedback from the readers, please!!!*





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