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Chapter 2: Buffy

Never let it be said that I’m not predictable, at least when it comes to guys. I thought Sam and I were safe from my old favorites like sleep with a guy and he turns evil. Or, him not just leaving me, but leaving town. Let’s not forget killing my boyfriend to save the world. Yeah, he was safe from all of these, but I still found a way to pound Sam into the mould of disastrous Buffy relationships.

In his case it was: breakup with your current guy cause your last guy now has the perfect life. Okay, maybe that’s not quite right. It’s more like, see your ex living the good life and realize that you don’t want the life you have. That’s why I broke up with Spike when Riley breezed back through town (with his too perfect wife named Sam, how creepy is it we both married people named Sam?) Now I was finally leaving my Sam because I’d seen Spike.

Maybe I should have been wondering how was he alive? Why didn’t he come find me? And how did he end up a rock star? But I didn’t ask any of that. I didn't really believe it was Spike. Just some guy who looked like him. Instead I looked around at my life and thought, this isn’t who I am. I’m The Slayer. Well, a Slayer anyway.

I’d always wondered why my friends stayed in Sunnydale, stayed in the demon fighting biz. Sure Willow had the magic, and Sunnydale was a good place to learn that. But Xander? Why’d he stay as long as he did? Especially when he had a great job and a normal life was just waiting for him.

Even after the Hellmouth bit off more than it could chew in the form of Spike, they never went off and had normal lives. They started helping with the slayer gathering and training effort. I was the only one who went off to normalville. But then everyone expected me to. Once we realized what it meant, the Hellmouth being gone, well, I’d always used that as my excuse for not having a normal life.

That and being the Chosen One.

But I wasn’t the Chosen One anymore. It should have made me glad, excited. The world should have been my oyster, or at least an all you can eat buffet. But I didn’t know who I was anymore. Suddenly I was more like flour, which didn’t know if it was going to be bread or rolls or cookies. At least when I was The Slayer I knew I was going to be cookies someday. (Way to hold onto a metaphor and not let go, Buffy.) So I did what everyone expected. I jumped into normal with both feet and didn’t look back.

Until I saw Spike.

It all probably seems pretty fickle. Like I was still looking for the grass to be greener on the other side. Sam couldn’t do it for me, so maybe Spike could. But it wasn’t about Spike. It never occurred to me to go find him, well never seriously. Okay, so I did buy the magazine, but I didn’t open it or read it. I guess I didn’t really believe it was him. I mean, how could it be? Just some guy who looked like him.

I bought my groceries, went home, put them away, and waited for Sam. When he got home that evening I told him that I was sorry but we just weren’t working and I wanted a divorce. He didn’t take it too well. First there was yelling, and then there was crying. Part of me wanted to take it back, but only because staying would have been easier than leaving.

Finally he stormed out, and I heard the tires of his car squeal out of the driveway. I was a little worried, but then I realized all the things I hadn’t thought of, like where I was going to go, and yeah, the big one, what I was going to do? So I did what I always do, I called Giles. I told him things weren’t working out with Sam and that I wanted to come to England, to the slayer school.

He tried to talk me out of it, tried to convince me that I should really stay in Ohio so I’d have a chance to work things out with Sam, but I told him I didn’t want to work things out.

As for messy details like the divorce, about all I really wanted was my clothes. The rest of it, it didn’t feel like me. Seeing as how my house was swallowed whole by the earth, I hadn’t brought a lot to the marriage. I suppose I could have gotten the house, or the car or alimony or something, but I didn’t really feel I deserved it. Sure the first year I’d done a lot to further Sam’s career, but then he paid for me to go to college, so I pretty much figured it was a wash. Besides, I didn’t want to become dependent on his checks. I remembered what that was like with my dad. It would be better just to make as clean a break as possible.

Finally Giles caved in, and soon I had plane tickets for the next day. I packed up most of my clothes and went to bed. Deciding to throw your whole life into chaos can be tiring so I was out like a light. I didn’t even notice when Sam came home later that night drunk.

I noticed in the morning though. He felt awful, and then I felt awful. So awful that I called work for him and told them he was too sick to come in and he was throwing up everywhere. It was an exaggeration, but he had thrown up last night, so it wasn't an outright lie.

Not making him go to work had seemed like the humane thing to do, except that it meant he was moping about the place while I made my last arrangements to leave. He begged me to stay, but somehow I made it out of the house and to the airport with plenty of time to get through security for my flight.

In the airport, he haunted me. Not Sam, Spike. Or rather the not-Spike as I had dubbed him. It seemed like everywhere I turned there was another magazine stand and that same cover looking out at me, taunting me. I had wanted to get something to read on the plane, but I didn't dare go in and pass by all those not-Spike's looking at me as if to say, "You know exactly what you want, luv. Me. Why won't you just admit it?"

It was silly I know. Running scared from those issues of Rolling Stone, especially considering the one I'd bought the day before was safely tucked away in my carry-on luggage.

I never got it out though. It just sat there, unopened and unread in my suitcase. Instead I got on the plane and endured the long tedious flight to England.

When I got off the plane, Giles was there waiting for me. And when I hugged him, I knew I'd done the right thing. I've never liked England, way too rainy for me. But when I hugged Giles I knew I'd come home. Cause you know what they say: Home is the place that when you leave your husband and show up there with hardly 24-hours notice, they have to take you in. Or something like that.





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