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Chapter 12-What Do You Want From Me

What do you want from me?
You can have anything you want
You can drift, you can dream,
Even walk on water. Anything you want.
-Pink Floyd
-What Do You Want From Me?

Spike closed and locked the door to his cottage. After Willow and Tara left, he had taken a long shower and changed into clean clothes. The shower had been a delaying tactic. He was still nervous. Staring into the mirror, he tried giving himself a pep talk.

"God Spike, could you actually be any more of a ponce? You already know you've fallen head over heels in love with the girl and yet you're afraid to see her. That's just pathetic. Now get moving. Willow and Tara have set the stage, you just need to enter from stage left."

Summoning his courage, he started down the path. As he rounded the corner, he saw his neighbor standing there with a small white dog on a violently purple leash and smiled at her.

“'Lo Faith, how are you?” The dog strained, pulling on the leash. It tried to sniff his shoes. Spike discretely shuffled his feet. “I didn't realize you had a dog.”

“Hello William. Are you sure you haven't seen Poofy before? Why, I keep him with me almost constantly.” She looked down at the dog and said, “Don't I mommy's Poofy sugar pie?”

If Spike had been paying attention instead of warily watching the dog, he would have noticed the faint moue of distaste that passed across Faith's face. I just can't say Poofy with a straight face. What a fucking awful name!

“So, William, how's your vacation going so far? Are you having a good time?”

He smiled. “Yeah, it's been very nice.”

Faith shifted her feet and tugged the leash. “Robin and I will be leaving soon and we were hoping to have a drink with you before then. You know, vacationing ships in the night and all.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, pet. I'm going to pick up a friend at the airport in a couple hours. He wanted to visit the ocean, so he'll be renting one of the cottages from Buffy. I'll be busy with him for the next two days.” He smiled a bit too brightly. “It was nice meeting you and Robin, and, uh, Poofy.”

Faith shrugged. “Oh, that's too bad. Robin really wanted the chance to talk cars with you.” He had left a small opening and Faith sailed through. She pointed toward the ocean. “Buffy sure has a goldmine here, and she seems awfully nice. Don't you think so?”

Distracted, he watched Poofy. “Uh, I think she's bloody brilliant. She's managed to make a home for herself and her little sister and start a successful business at the same time.”

“Well, it's a beautiful piece of property, that's for sure.”

Spike looked out at the beach. “It is beautiful here. I'm enjoying the solitude.”

Faith grinned. “But not too much solitude, huh? I saw you working with Buffy the other day.”

Spike impatiently ran his hands through his hair. Okay, that's getting a little too personal. When is she going to stop talking? Surely the dog's ready for a nap on a special pillow or something by now.

He looked warily at Faith. “Yeah, I've been helping her a little, but Buffy and I are just good friends.” He smiled thinly. “Well, I've got to be going. Take care Faith, and tell Robin I'm sorry we didn't get to have that drink.”

Faith watched him stroll down the path toward the office. She muttered. “Yeah, with that body I'll bet she's a really good friend, huh, Spike?” She reached in her top pocket and switched off a small tape recorder.

She looked down at the little white dog. “Come on Poofy; let's go have a beer with Robin. If you're a good little shit, I might even share.” With a satisfied smile, she walked back to the cottage, pulling the small dog behind her.

****
Buffy was washing dishes, when she heard the knock on her door. Placing the dishtowel on the kitchen counter, she opened it to discover Spike standing there. He looked upset.

“William, are you alright?”

He winced at the question. “Buffy, those things I mentioned that I needed to tell you? Well, I'd like to tell you now if that's alright with you. I just don't want to wait any longer. You need to know about me and about my past.” I'm going to screw this up, I just know it.

She opened the door wider. “Of course.”

“This is the first thing you should know.” He handed her a hardcover book opened to the author's picture. “My real name is William although everyone knows me as Spike.” He grimaced. “Everyone except you, that is.”

When she didn't immediately speak, he took a breath and continued. “I'm a novelist, but that's not the main thing I need to try to explain.”

Buffy looked over at Spike. “I'm not sure I understand.”

Puzzled, she scanned the photo. It depicted the author, William,-no, Spike- wearing wire rimmed glasses, an Armani suit and a really sexy smirk. Buffy had heard his name before. Isn't he that drunk guy whose always in trouble? He's always on tv or in the newspapers and with a different girl on his arm every time.

Spike could tell she was confused. He paced back and forth across the room, finally stopping in front of her again. “I've had a serious drinking problem, among other things, for the past couple of years. I just got out of rehab. I still see a therapist but I don't drink like that anymore and I won't ever again.”

Now Buffy was openly staring at him, her eyes wide. She realized that Spike really did have some issues that she needed to hear about and she wondered if she really knew him at all.

Nervously, he began pacing again. He turned back to her. “I've had serious writer's block, mainly due to depression, but I'm learning how to be content with my life again. I feel like I've finally gotten back on track and I'm writing again. I don't know if it's any good, but that's not important. The important thing is that it's because of you.”

Spike wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He was beginning to think he'd lost her.

He had only just found her and now she would leave him, just like everyone else. He appealed to her. “Buffy? I know this is a lot to take in all at once. Would you please say something, anything?”

She walked over and dropped onto the couch. Taking a deep breath, she looked into Spike's eyes. “We all have things to atone for in our past. You don't ever have to be afraid that I'll judge you for the things you did before.”

He let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. “I've been so afraid that with my history you wouldn't want to see me any more, that you'd be afraid to take a chance on me.”

He walked over and knelt on the floor in front of her. Releasing a shuddering breath, he looked up into her face. “I just don't think I'm strong enough for that. I care about you too much.”

She reached down and stroked his hair. Softly, she spoke. “I want to give you the same consideration you gave me last night. I can help you let go of your pain. I know you're a good man. You have a kind and affectionate nature and I've seen it. I've seen you.

That's the important thing to me. I don't care what name you use, because that doesn't tell me who you are. Nothing anyone could say or write about you would ever make me think differently, because I care, too.”

She moved over, motioning him onto the couch next to her. He smiled in relief and squeezed in beside her. They kissed tenderly and when they finally parted, Spike placed his arm around her shoulders. Buffy rested her head against his chest and held onto his hand. He touched her face tenderly while she held his hand.

Sitting quietly, they savored their closeness. Finally everything was out in the open. There would never be any more secrets. Whatever happened between them now, it would never be caused by pain from the past. Whatever problems occurred in the future, they would work them out together.

Finally Buffy looked up and smiled. This smile was different, a bit more mischievous.

Her eyes twinkled.

Spike responded to her expression with a matching smile of his own. He lifted one eyebrow.

Buffy looked innocent. She ran her finger slowly down his chest. “Spike, there are a couple of things I do need to ask. Oh, and by the way, I think that's an incredibly sexy nickname. I like it. I want to hear sometime how you got it.”

“Sure, anytime you want, luv. I'll never keep any secrets from you, ever. What else is it you want to know?”

Her eyes sparkled and her smile became even brighter. “Are you any good at this writing thing? Because I gotta tell you, that photo in the book? It's really hot.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I'm pretty good, at least I was. Don't really know anymore. What was your other question?”

She looked him in the eye. “When we finally execute your special plan, will you wear the glasses?”

Spike laughed heartily and kissed her hard. Then he looked at her with the same smoldering expression as the book jacket. “Since I'm planning more than one execution of my plan, I'd say that's a definite possibility.”

She laughed until he kissed her breathless. Everything was going to be alright because they both cared enough to try.





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