The sounds of Faith and Xander out in the bar, getting ready to open for the night, stirred them both, and simultaneously they sat up and stretched, heads turned away from each other. A sort of awkwardness had started to settle over them when they were touching or talking, when each let their minds wander to their nascent feelings about each other. Confusion and insecurity kept them quiet, unsure what the other’s reaction would be, but both felt like there was a ticking clock in the room.
Buffy opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, and studied the movement of the muscles in Spike’s back as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She fingered the shirt she’d had on for some of the day, and glanced over at Faith’s clothing waiting for her on the desk.
It was a seemingly insignificant decision. There was no reason to think she was leaving immediately. Would putting on Faith’s clothes make him think she wanted to leave?
Because she really, really didn’t. Ever, if she had her say.
Her brain had been working a mile a minute, going through every possibility, every pro and con, every hidden drawback or positive result. She didn’t think her brain had worked this hard since her philosophy class last winter.
When she got home…Hell was coming to Earth. Seriously.
What she had done went against every one of the tenants of the Summers family belief system. Loyalty. Duty. Commitment. Since she was little the point had been hammered home that she had expectations to fulfill. Hank and Joyce had sent her to the best schools, given her everything she could have wanted, and asked for one thing in return. Her total and complete…submission. Because she was a Summers.
But recently their family name didn’t hold the same sort of power in the community. After a few years of her fathers failed business ventures, and a scandal involving her Aunt Darla and the Mayor, less and less invitations were forthcoming to Sunnydale’s most prestigious events, and her parents were furious.
Her marriage was going to be the answer to all of that. Not that she had been, like, commanded to marry Angel or anything. It wasn’t like that at all. But the second it had become clear to Hank and Joyce that a relationship between the two was possible they’d been supportive, in their own special domineering way. And they’d been hopeful. And, well, pushy.
Nathaniel O’Connor was her father’s boss, or at least, was going to be in a few weeks. Or was supposed to be. She didn’t really get all the details, but she knew the basics. Her father’s failing company was going to be purchased by O’Connor Industries, and then they’d be as wealthy as they were in her childhood. Her mother would have her status back, and the Summers name would be tied to the most powerful family in town.
All she was supposed to do was marry the man everyone assumed she loved. Simple.
Or not. Because she didn’t. Not anymore, if she ever really had.
“Buffy?” Spike asked, frowning at the faraway look on her face.
She started, and forced a smile to her face. “Sorry. I went all space case.” Quickly, she slipped on his shirt, then walked over and reached for Faith’s pants.
She knew deep down there was nothing to figure out, not really. As Spike reached for her and kissed her gently on the forehead, she imagined it, just for a moment.
Being with him.
God, she wanted it. The ease with which they connected, the way she felt when he touched her, the swelling of emotion in her gut when he looked at her in that way of his. His head tilting slightly, his eyes flickering with lust and amusement and something softer. Sometimes he curled his tongue at her, or smirked more than smiled. But still, it was the eyes that mattered.
“Buffy?” Spike said again. “Are you sure you’re alright, love?”
“Mmhmm,” she said as she leaned forward, and nuzzled into his chest.
He frowned at her silence, at the way she was clinging to him but not looking him in the eye. He didn’t claim to know her well enough to know what was going on with her, but he did know that something wasn’t quite right.
He didn’t know if he should ask, or could. Was he allowed to pry into her head to try and decipher her moods and thoughts after only a day? Had they reached that point? Despite their hours of talking, despite the fact that they had now explored every inch of each other’s bodies, they were still nearly strangers, with less than twenty-four hours of history between them.
A knock on the door interrupted them, and he didn’t get the chance to decide what he would say.
“Hey, guys,” said Xander when Spike opened the door. “Um, there’s someone here. For Buffy.”
The golden color of her skin faded, but her voice was casual as she said, “Who?”
“Redhead chick? Babbles a lot?”
Buffy’s body relaxed, but she felt a flicker of anger as she thought of her friend. “Willow. Okay, thanks, I’ll be right there.”
Xander nodded and spun around, whistling as he made his way down the hall.
“Maid of honor?” Spike recalled the name from a conversation the night before.
“Yep,” she sighed. “I’m guessing she’s the ambassador from Planet Real World. I should---“
“Go with her, yeah,” he interrupted dejectedly. “I understand, I---“
“---probably at least talk to her---“
“---can drive you home, or she’s here so---“
“---and let her know I want to stay. I mean, if---“
“---she can probably do that. Drive you.”
“---you want me to.”
They’d talked over each other and it took each a moment to register the other’s words.
Buffy wilted. “Oh. Okay, I’ll just go.“
Spike brightened. “Of course I want you to stay!”
They chuckled awkwardly as they spoke simultaneously again.
Silence reigned only for a moment after their laughter faded, until Spike stepped forward to fold Buffy into his arms again. She fit there perfectly, her head cradled in his chest and her hips snug against his, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I want you to stay,” he said again, voice suddenly hoarse. “Need you to stay.”
A shiver crept up her spine and she bit back anything more than a simple agreement, her mind still reeling, overwhelmed with a sudden rush of happiness. “Okay,” she said softly as she snuggled deeper into his embrace, inhaling deeply the scent of him.
Then she turned away and headed for the door, tossing a brilliant smile over one shoulder before disappearing down the hall. Spike let his knees give out and he sank onto the edge of the bed, stunned at what had just happened.
What the hell was that?
It had been so easy.
Sure, they hadn’t exactly discussed any logistics. Such as how long she was staying, or why, or what she wanted, or what he needed, or what they were. But she wanted to stay. Even if it was just an hour longer, it was one more hour he had with her, and he’d take what he could get.
Buffy slowly walked down the hall, dreading the conversation to come. The bar hadn’t opened yet and Xander and Faith were in the corner stacking glasses and bickering, while loud music emanated from the speakers. Willow was hovering near the counter, eyes wide as she glanced around the establishment, like she wasn’t sure how she got there and didn’t know if she wanted to be.
She turned and caught sight of Buffy, and her body relaxed in relief. “Hey Buffy!” She said cheerily, pep and positivity clearly forced as she scurried over.
“Hi,” the blonde replied flatly as she reluctantly accepted the enthusiastic hug of her long time best friend and maid of honor.
Willow began babbling immediately. “I am so, so sorry about Angel showing up here. All I did was tell him I talked to you and when I went to the bathroom he looked at my phone and got the number and, yeah, okay I may have Googled it for him because he sort of doesn’t get the concept and he smiled at me but I swear I didn’t---“
“I’m still pissed off,” Buffy interrupted firmly, arm crossed over her chest protectively. Her readiness to admit her feelings shocked her, and apparently shocked Willow as well, whose face crumpled. With that sad expression on her face, the girl looked just like she had in elementary school when the two had practically been soul mates, and Buffy felt her anger soften a bit, and she rolled her eyes at her own weakness. “But it’s good that he came, it gave me the chance to end things for real.”
Her friend’s already wide eyes grew to the size of saucers. Her voice was high pitched and shocked as she said, “Seriously? You broke up with him? I can’t believe you’d do that!”
“Why wouldn’t I, Willow?” Buffy snapped, then realized what was wrong with Willow’s surprise. “You didn’t know that I…what did Angel say when he got back?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t talk to him, but…Buffy, let’s just get out of this place and we can---“
“I’m not leaving.”
“Wh-what?”
She sighed and rubbed her temples, where a headache was starting to build. “I don’t want to leave here yet.”
“Um, okay…” Willow said slowly. “Let’s just start at the beginning?” She gestured to the bar while wearing a tentatively hopeful smile.
“Fine.”
They each sat down on a stool, avoiding each other’s gaze, feeling a sort of awkwardness that had never been between them before, in all their years of friendship.
“You need to come home,” Willow finally said firmly. “Your parents are flipping out, Angel’s upset---“
“I don’t care if he’s upset!” Buffy said loudly, then softened her voice when she saw Faith glance over at them worriedly. “And I’ll deal with my parents, I will, I just---“
“Deal with them? How do you think you’re going to just…I don’t get it, Buffy! What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?”
“I totally get you leaving yesterday, I do. But just…abandoning your parents and running away to some dive bar off the highway and whose shirt is that?” Willow’s nose wrinkled, but she tried to soften her voice. “What are you doing? This isn’t like you!”
“Yeah, doing what I want and following my heart. Bad Buffy!” She retorted sarcastically.
“I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to just…make this huge mistake and regret it.”
“Why would I regret it? And why is this a mistake? I can’t marry him, Willow, the real mistake would have been doing that! I thought…God, I thought out of everyone in my life you’d be on my side.” She choked back any tears, steeling herself to not show any weakness, lest it be confused for lack of conviction in her decision.
“Buffy, I’m not saying you’re wrong, it’s just…you’ve never acted like this. Running away and avoiding responsibility and spending the night at some gross---“
“Oh, come on, it’s a bar,” Buffy interrupted. “It’s not a crack den.”
“Okay, okay,” Willow sighed. “I just…I’m trying to understand. And I don’t. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Buffy echoed thoughtfully, asking the question of herself, as she finally looked over at her friend’s worried face. “I know it’s where I want to be. I can’t explain it more than that, it’s just Spike---“ She cut herself off and winced in advance of Willow’s reaction.
“Spike?” She squealed, seemingly horrified. “Is this the guy you left with? Please tell me you didn’t do anything, you were in no condition to---“
“I was in every condition! I knew exactly what I was doing.” Buffy protested.
“Okay, okay,” Willow sighed, and they sat in silence for a moment. “So, it’s about the guy?” she finally said.
“No. I mean, yes, but…It’s not just about him. It’s about me.”
The redhead frowned, but seemed to reign in any further judgments or accusations. “You still need to go home.”
“But---“
“I had to beg your parents not to come get you last night,” Willow said. “And then again this morning. If I go back without you, there’s no way…you have to at least come talk to them. You can’t just hide forever.”
As much as she wanted to continue protesting, Buffy knew the truth when she heard it, and she felt a rush of gratitude at hearing that Willow had, in fact, fought for her. With a plaintive moan she dropped her head to the counter, banged it gently a few times, then sat back up. “They’re going to kill me.”
“It’s entirely possible,” Willow said dryly. They shared a small smile, which seemed to encourage the girl. “I really am sorry, Buffy, I…I don’t mean to upset you. I’m trying to look out for you and maybe I don’t know what’s right, but…I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“I know,” Buffy sighed. “And you’re right, I should at least…go talk to everyone and settle them down. Or try to.”
“Okay!” Willow’s voice was relieved. “My car’s out front, let’s get your stuff and go?”
“Fine,” Buffy agreed. “I…I need to go talk to Spike first, though.”
“Do I get to meet this Spike?”
“Would you want to?”
Willow nodded. “You seem …different. And I don’t know if that’s good or bad but if he’s the reason, I want to meet him! I’m the best friend, remember? I mean, I still am, right?”
Buffy laughed despite herself. “You’ll have to piss me off a lot more to get that label rescinded.”
“Good to know.”
Buffy rose from her stool and headed back towards Spike’s room, moving as slowly as possible. The day’s glow had darkened and she was leaving her haven. She knew it needed to be done, but dreaded it just the same.
But what she was going to say to Spike was still a mystery to her as she walked unhurriedly down the hall. How to explain she was leaving but didn’t want to be leaving him, how to tell him what she needed and wanted from him.
It was crazy, she was crazy, this whole thing was crazy…but as she entered his room and saw him sitting at the desk, she was hit with a thought, and she froze in place to stare. Spike was biting his lip, scribbling frantically, one hand supporting his head with fingers intertwined in his errant curls. A breath caught in her throat at the simple beauty of him, and that new thought swelled and grew until she couldn’t ignore it any longer. And once acknowledged, that thought became forever part of her, became the most important thing in her world.
She was falling in love with him.
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