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Betad by dawnofme and seapealsh
Chapter Five

Buffy closed her eyes tightly and willed the tears to stop. She had never thought that it would hurt so much to see Spike again. With a shuddering breath her sobs finally ceased. She wiped her eyes knowing that her face must be smeared with mascara. The pain in Spike’s expression when he’d realised that she wasn’t there to be with him had been more than she could bear to see.

Like Spike had said, she wondered exactly why she had come. It had obviously been a mistake. He had looked at her like she was his saviour; like she was a piece of driftwood that a drowning man could cling to. But she wasn’t that special. She’d lied to Spike when she’d said that she loved him but was in love with Colin. As soon as she had seen Spike she knew that it was the other way around. She was in love with Spike – she always had been. He was right – she was settling for safe. Settling for the rebound guy. But the alternative scared her to death. The weight of Spike’s love scared her to death.

Once back at her car, she sat behind the wheel for thirty minutes before she finally turned the key in the ignition and drove away. Back to Sunnydale. Colin was a good man. Safe was fine…

*~*~*~*

Spike stumbled home unaware of anything but the fresh pain ripping through what was left of his heart. In an echo of that fateful night, Spike bought a bottle of Jack Daniels on the way back to the apartment. He tossed his keys onto the table in the hall and walked into the living room. Oz was at work and Spike was glad that he was. He didn’t bother with a glass, just flopped on the couch, unscrewed the cap and took a deep swallow.

The tears that had threatened didn’t fall. By the time he’d gotten home, he simply felt numb and good ole ‘Jack’ was helping that numbness remain. A quarter of the bottle had gone before Spike moved. He’d been staring at an object leaning against the far wall for ten minutes before he got up and walked a little unsteadily towards it. He picked it up and went out to sit on the balcony. The case’s catches snapped open under his thumbs and Spike caressed the sleek pale wood with his fingertips before taking the guitar out for the first time in months.

“Hello, love,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Spike settled the guitar on his knee and ran a thumb across the strings. He screwed his eyes shut and winced at the out of tune twang it achieved. With the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips, Spike began to tune it. Finally satisfied that the guitar was fully tuned up, he began to play a few chords.

An hour later he put the guitar down and rushed back inside. He took a couple of swigs from the bottle of JD, leaving it uncapped in his haste, and then he rummaged through the drawers. Spike didn’t care that he left them open or that some of their contents spilled onto the floor.

“Yes!”

He snatched up the notepad and pen and ran back to the balcony. Spike picked up his guitar and began to play short bursts of chords in between scribbling the notes on the paper.

Oz could smell the liquor as soon as he opened the door to the apartment.

“Oh, Spike,” he whispered.

All day he’d been worried about this happening and now berated himself for not taking the day off to be with his friend. There was no way that Spike wasn’t going to freak out after reading the magazine article. Oz picked up the bottle of JD and put its cap back on, shaking his head at the disarray of the drawers.

He heard music playing softly, turned to the hi-fi next to the TV and frowned when he saw that it was switched off. He slowly looked towards the balcony – that’s where it seemed to be coming from. Oz saw a sight that he thought that he would never see again; Spike bent over his guitar, quietly singing and writing earnestly in a notepad.

Oz backed up, not wanting to disturb him. He picked up the liquor, unscrewed the cap and smiled. “Good for you, Spike.” He raised the bottle to his friend then took a swig and felt his eyes water as the liquor seared his throat. “Think I’ll stick to beer,” he said with a chuckle. Oz went into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He flipped the cap off and drank deeply. “Much better.” He sat at the breakfast bar and wondered if it would break Spike’s concentration if he ordered Chinese.

*~*~*~*

Nothing that Oz did took Spike’s attention away from his song-writing. Not ordering a pizza – by the time he ordered Oz no longer felt like Chinese food – not turning the TV on – not going to bed – not getting up, having a shower and leaving for work the next morning.

“See you later, Spike,” called Oz, before going out of the door smiling broadly.

The door slamming shut made Spike glance up. “Huh?” He listened for a moment. “Oz? Mate, are you there?”

When he got no reply he got up and groaned as he set down his guitar and stretched his limbs. His stomach growled loudly and he absentmindedly rubbed it with his left hand as he wandered through the living room to the kitchen.

“Oz?”

Shrugging, he opened the refrigerator and grinned when he saw three slices of pizza on the top shelf.

“Perfect.”

He poured a glass of orange juice and sat at the breakfast bar munching happily. He could write. He hadn’t lost it. Mind you – he wasn’t sure that what he’d written wasn’t shite, but at least he’d written something. The style was different from his other songs, there was no denying that, but like the other songs these had come from his heart. The only difference was that now that heart was broken.

Where was Oz? Spike scowled and glanced at his watch, doing a double take when he saw the time.

“Can’t be,” he muttered. “Bloody hell.” His grin returned. He’d been writing all night and his head was still buzzing with lyrics and melodies.

*~*~*~*

Six months later…

Buffy sighed as she lowered herself into the bathtub. The water was a little on the hot side and full of scented bubbles. It was her Friday evening routine. A long relaxing bubble bath followed by curling up on her comfy terracotta coloured sofa. She always ordered in food – tonight’s choice was Mexican – and made sure that she had at least half a carton of ice-cream left. A bottle of white wine was chilling in the refrigerator and a DVD was sitting next to the player waiting to be watched.

She’d never regretted her decision to break up with Colin though she hated that she’d hurt him so much – it was a talent she had obviously – hurting men that she loved. After her misguided trip to see Spike, she’d kept up the pretence with Colin for another month before she had the nerve to break it off. Her mother had been furious. Of course, she hadn’t told anyone the real reason that she wanted to call off the engagement and move out.

How could she tell anyone that she loved a man that she’d walked away from only a month earlier, leaving him in no doubt that she didn’t want him? She might be stupid but she wasn’t that dumb.

After her long soak, Buffy got dried, put on her favourite pyjamas and her fluffy pink bath robe before padding barefoot to the small living room. She smiled when the doorbell chimed.

“Perfect!”

She paid the delivery boy and took her food into the kitchen. Food on plate. Wine in glass. Both on tray. Buffy put the DVD in and settled with her feast on the sofa.

“Ugh! Not perfect,” she grumbled, turning the film off. “I’ll kill Willow for saying this was good.”

She took no notice of what programme was on the TV as she took her tray into the kitchen to put the dirty plates in the sink and to get the strawberry cheesecake ice-cream out of the freezer. She dropped her spoon when she heard a familiar voice…

*~*~*~*

Spike splashed some cold water on his face and grimaced at his reflection. He’d just about turned himself inside out in one of the stalls a minute ago and it looked like it. He’d make a ghost look like it had a suntan.

“Hey, man. You okay?”

Spike watched Oz approach through the mirror. “No.” He shook his head and turned around, leaning against the basin. “I can’t do it. No way. Tell them, yeah?”

Oz laughed. Spike scowled.

“Don’t bloody laugh. I’m ill!”

“No you’re not. You’re nervous, that’s all.”

Spike’s stomach churned again. “That’s all? I can’t go out there.”

“Yes, you can,” replied Oz calmly. He put an arm around Spike’s shoulder and led him out of the restroom. “You need your makeup fixed. I think you’ve washed it off,” he teased.

“Sod off. Bloody makeup. Feel like a right ponce.”

Oz chuckled again, which earned him a dig in the ribs. “How come you’re so nervous anyway? It’s not like you haven’t performed before.”

“It’s live.”

“You’ve been playing live for years, Spike.”

“It’s live sodding telly!” Spike’s voice got a little shrill.

“Just concentrate on the studio audience. There’s only a hundred and fifty of them – you’ve played gigs to that many.”

“They won’t let me have my bloody guitar,” whined Spike, pouting.

“What difference does that make? You didn’t play it when you laid the vocals down in the recording studio.”

“I feel naked without it on stage, okay,” snapped Spike. “What the hell am I supposed to do with my hands?”

Oz snorted. “I’m sure you’ll find something to do with them but remember what time it is – kids might be watching.”

Spike couldn’t help but laugh, and then he didn’t have time to worry when he was caught up in a whirlwind of makeup and last minute instructions.

“How’s he doing?”

Oz turned to look at Greg as the executive leant against the wall next to him.

“Okay. Bit nervous, but it is his first live TV appearance. He’s missing his guitar.” He grinned.

“He’ll be great. He’s a natural. We wanted him to play with a band of musicians so that the focus would be solely on him. It’s his voice I want to promote, not the fact that he can play a guitar,” replied Greg. “I couldn’t believe it when he walked back into my office that day holding that notebook full of songs. I honestly thought that the next time I saw him would be to pay for his other songs.”

“So you think that he’ll make it?” asked Oz.

“I’m certain of it,” Greg stated.

Oz nodded. “You’re right.”

The studio was silenced and the show got underway. When it was halfway through, Spike walked to his mark on the small stage off to the left and waited at the microphone.

“Now we’d like to bring you an exclusive. Newly signed to TML records and with his first single ‘Break Even’ to be released in two weeks time, I’m delighted to introduce you to…” The presenter waved a hand towards the stage. “Spike.”

The audience applauded politely in response to the cue cards being brandished by the floor staff. Spike smiled shyly at the camera through his eyelashes, head held at an angle, and both hands gripped the mic’s stand as if he feared it would try to make a run for it. The soft introduction began to play and Spike’s nerves left him.

He sang the first few lines almost unaccompanied by any music and the audience as one seemed to sit up and take note as his voice rang out so hauntingly.

“I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing
Just prayed to a God that I don’t believe in
Cos I got time while she got freedom
Cos when a heart breaks it don’t break even…”

Buffy raced into the room and stared at the TV in disbelief. Spike. On TV. Spike singing. Her legs gave way and she sank to the floor missing the sofa by about six inches. She grabbed the remote control and turned it up.

He looked amazing. Tight jeans, nothing new there, and a dark coloured button down shirt. His hair was still streaked rather than totally white but it was lighter than when she’d last seen him.

“Her best days will be some of my worse…”

Buffy missed the next line as he looked directly into the camera. She shuffled forwards and touched the screen.

“While I’m wide awake she’s got no trouble sleeping…”

“No” Buffy wailed when the camera moved to show the musicians behind him. As if the cameraman had heard her, it returned to Spike’s face.

“What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you?
What am I supposed to do when I’m all choked up and you’re okay?
I’m falling to pieces…”

Tears began to stream down Buffy’s face. She knew exactly when he’d written this song. It had to have been on the day she’d met him in the café. But she’d been falling to pieces too. She growled and thumped the sofa with frustration. Now he was the one who’d moved on – who was okay.

“They say bad things happen for a reason,
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding.
Cos she’s moved on while I’m still grieving,
And when a heart breaks it don’t break even, even no…”

She couldn’t take her eyes from his face.

“One still in love while the other one’s leaving,
Cos when a heart breaks no it don’t break even…”

When the song ended, Spike waited for the enthusiastic applause to die down before walking over to where the show’s presenter was sitting. As Spike sat in the red chair to the left side if him he hoped fervently that his makeup hadn’t made him as orange as the presenter – the man’s skin was clashing with the chairs!

Looking straight to the camera the presenter said, “So what do you think? I’m sure that the young man now sitting beside me is going to be huge. The audience here thinks so too.” He smiled as the studio audience clapped and cheered.

Turning smoothly to Spike, he said, “Welcome to the show, Spike.”

Spike smiled nervously. “Thanks, David. I’m happy to be here.”

David asked Spike a few questions about how he came to be in L.A. and how long he’d been writing and performing. Spike relaxed more with each easily answered question and even managed to laugh when David asked him what his real name was.

“Not telling you that one on live TV. You’d lose a couple of viewers when they died laughing.”

“As bad as that?” David said with a grin.

“Probably worse,” replied Spike.

David’s face became serious. “‘Break Even’ is a very beautiful song but it’s also a very sad one. I have the feeling that there’s a story behind it, am I right?”

In the sidelines, both Oz and Greg tensed. Greg had coached Spike about how to answer questions like these but they both were still worried that Spike might take exception to them or get overly emotional. Spike had confessed all to Greg when he’d shown him the new songs, wanting to come clean with the man.

Spike glanced away from David’s face and nodded. “There’s a story behind every song that I write.”

Greg and Oz sighed with relief. It looked like he was going to be all right.

“Do you want to share it with us?”

“Um…not much to tell really. I thought that I’d met my soul mate but it wasn’t a two way street and she’s now moved on.”

“I’ll be your girlfriend, Spike!” a voice rang out from the audience, prompting everyone to laugh and Spike to blush beneath his makeup.

“What do you think, Spike? Should we get her number for you?” joked David.

Spike smiled sadly. “Wouldn’t be any good. Like the song says. I haven’t really moved on. He twisted his hands together and looked at his feet before remembering being told to look either at the camera or David and looking up again.

David reached down and picked up a CD, holding it up to the camera. “The album is a mixture of love songs both happy and sad and it’s going to be released in two month’s time. There’s a dedication on it…”

“Noticed that, did you,” said Spike with a rueful smile. “I told them that the font was still too big.”

“It says ‘Joan – better to have loved and lost you than never to have loved you at all.’ I take it that’s the girl you’re talking about?”

“Yeah, and I apologise to Will Shakespeare for messing with his words,” replied Spike. “The album would never have been made but for her. She’s with someone else now and I’m glad that she’s happy.”

The audience gave out a soft ‘Aww’ that made Spike cringe a little. Bloody ponce.

“I’m so busy right now that I haven’t got time for anything but my music,” he added quickly. “I’m already working on the next album and there’s a tour that starts in a few months time.”

“Well, I hope you’ll find time to come back and join us again after the tour to tell us all about it.” David offered Spike his hand.

“I’m sure I will,” said Spike shaking it firmly. “Thanks for having me on the show.”

The two men stood up.

“Ladies and gentlemen…Spike,” said David giving the audience their cue to clap and cheer once more.

When the camera turned away from them, Spike walked off the set to where Oz and Greg were waiting.

“Well?” he asked anxiously. “Did I come over like a total prat?”

“You were great, Spike,” said Greg, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Even though you really are a total Pratt!” teased Oz.

“You are so dead!” replied Spike with a grin. “But really? I was okay? The song sounded okay?”

“Relax, man. You were awesome,” Oz said sincerely.

“Come on, there’s a car waiting,” said Greg. “Let’s go eat.”

*~*~*~*

Buffy sat on the floor totally stunned. He still loved her. Even after all that she’d done. Spike still loved her.

“Arrgh! What a mess!” she yelled. “Why is life so complicated?”

When she’d left Colin, she’d toyed with the idea of going to see Spike again but her courage had failed her. She thought that after hurting him again so badly that he’d be angry with her and wouldn’t want to see her. Now that he was on the brink of fame how could she go to him now? He’d just think that it was the success that had brought her back – not her love for the penniless musician that she’d first met. He’d really think that she was that materialistic girl he’d accused her of being in the schoolyard that night as they argued next to Angel’s Ferrari.

Buffy crawled onto the sofa and hugged herself tightly. She finally had an inkling of how much hurt Spike had endured. The tears felt hot on her skin as she cried herself to sleep.

*~*~*~*

Spike’s sleep was untroubled these days. He was too exhausted to even dream. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out for the count. Since his first TV appearance, he’d been in a constant round of media interviews. ‘Break Even’ to everyone’s amazement, had gone straight to number one in the charts. It was more than the label had ever dreamed of. They would have been happy with a place in the top twenty for his first release.

The album was due to be released the following week and a month after that the touring started. All in all life was pretty good for Spike these days. He’d been back to London to see his parents and apologised for worrying them so much when he’d returned from L.A. Spike had insisted that he paid for them to go on a luxury world cruise as a thank you for supporting him, and they’d gratefully accepted.

He still stayed at Oz’s apartment but another in the same building had come up for sale and he was currently in the process of buying it. The building had its own security and so even with his rising fame it was a good place to live.

He’d gotten the day off today. After a long lie in and a quick shower, he was ready to go out. He had no idea what to do. Oz was out of the country on business and he didn’t really have any proper friends in L.A. apart from him. Spike decided to go for a walk and pulled on a baseball hat before stepping out of the apartment.

Hell, I’ll be wearing shades all the time next. He grinned at the thought. As yet he was pretty safe from people spotting who he was as long as he covered his all too recognisable hair.

When he’d dreamed of having his songs recorded, he’d never really thought about the fame that would go with it and it scared him a little. What would he do if it got to the stage that he was recognised everywhere that he went? As he walked along the street, he grinned and decided that he’d become a recluse – buy a ranch in Montana or somewhere and only venture off it when work dictated it.

He wasn’t surprised when he found himself outside the café that he used to frequent daily. He hadn’t been in here for months, not since the day he'd last seen Buffy. For the first time, he didn’t get a pang in his heart when he thought of her. A slight smile played on his lips as he went inside. Maybe he was finally moving on? Accepting what could never be?

The waitress did a double-take when she saw him, before grinning and putting a chocolate covered donut on a plate and giving it to him. “I’ll bring your coffee over.”

“Thanks.”

Spike was pleased to see that ‘his’ table was free, and slid into the seat facing the window. The waitress brought his coffee. “I guess we know why you haven’t been in lately,” she said. “I’m really pleased for you.” She grinned broadly and then added quietly. “We’ll be able to put a plaque outside when you’re famous and say that you used to come in here everyday. Business will triple I’m sure!”

“Um…thank you,” mumbled Spike, face flushing a bit. It was all a little surreal.

He bit into his donut as she walked away and almost choked when he heard his name spoken softly behind him. He drank a mouthful of coffee and cursed as it scalded his tongue. With his eyes watering from all the coughing, Spike turned and saw a blurry figure standing in the aisle. He blinked rapidly, not trusting what he thought he could see. But he wasn’t mistaken.

“Hi, Spike,” said Buffy, not meeting his eye. “I never really thought that you’d be here.”

Spike just stared at her, self-consciously brushing icing from his lips.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” she asked.

He shook his head.

She took the seat opposite him like she had the last time that she’d seen him. His eyes strayed to the ring finger of her left hand. It was bare. Buffy noticed his gaze.

“I split up with him,” she said.

“W-when?” Spike finally found his voice although it sounded a little croaky.

“About a month after I came to see you. I realised that you’d been right. I was settling for safe and that wasn’t fair to Colin. He deserved more than that.”

Spike’s voice left him again. His mouth opened but he closed it without saying a word. What could he say?

“So…you look better than when I saw you last,” Buffy said, letting her fingers touch his hand.

“You look worse,” blurted Spike before he realised what he’d said. “I mean…I’m sorry… you—”

“It’s all right, Spike. I’m doing okay. Just not sleeping so good, I guess.”

“I didn’t mean…you’re still beautiful.”

Buffy smiled and looked down. She didn’t feel beautiful, not inside and not out. She hadn’t expected him to be here otherwise she would have rehearsed what to say. Her mouth was dry and she could feel her palms beginning to sweat.

“Spike…I…” She took a deep breath. “I love you. I always have. I always will.” There – she’d said it. It was out in the open.

Spike just stared at her, his blue eyes clouded with pain. He’d wanted to hear that for so long, but now… He’d managed to just about get his head straight and couldn’t afford to go off the rails again. What if she came back into his life and it didn’t work out? He couldn’t go back to how he was when Oz rescued him from London. He couldn’t take being rejected again.

“Buffy.”

His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper but the finality in it made her tense and tears glistened in her eyes. He’d tried to prepare himself for if this moment ever occurred. He’d even written a song about it. He could hear it playing in his mind…

“Sometimes tears are all there is to say
Sometimes your first scars won’t ever fade…”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Sometime we don’t learn from our mistakes
Sometimes we’ve no choice but to walk away…”

Buffy stifled a sob. “I know. I don’t blame you. So don’t say anything. Can we just sit?”

“I don’t think so, Buffy. I can’t do this, okay?” Spike got up and walked out of the café.

“Now I’m alive and my ghosts are gone,
I’ve shed all the pain I’ve been holding on
The cure for a heart is to move along, move along…”

Spike was a block from the café before he whirled around, startling those around him as he yelled, “Who the fuck are you kidding?” He ran as fast as he could.

“What don’t kill a heart only makes it strong…”

“Please let her be there. Please let her be there,” he repeated in time to his pounding feet.

He flung open the door and stared at the table – it was empty.

“No!”

“She’s only just gone,” said the waitress. “You can catch up to her.”

Spike shot her a grateful smile and raced back outside. He stood on his toes to try to spot her. Beginning to panic as he searched up and down the street, Spike took a deep breath and roared, “BUFFY!”

For a moment he thought that he’d missed her. That he had finally, irrevocably screwed up. He crossed the street and stood on the corner, looking in all directions. Thrusting his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumping, he was staring bleakly at the floor as he turned around to go home. He bumped into someone and raised his head as he muttered an apology. Spike stopped short. It was Buffy.

“Do you ever look where you’re going when you’re walking on this corner?”

Her face was tearstained but her smile made his heart skip a beat.

“Least I wasn’t carrying coffee and donuts this time,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

They stared at each other before Spike grabbed her and crushed her to his body, taking her off her feet and swinging her around.

“Oh, God, Buffy. I love you so much.” He buried his face in her neck and sent shivers down her spine as he kissed her.

“I love you too,” she whispered in his ear.

He set her on the sidewalk and took her face in his hands. “This will be forever – no going back – you know that, right?”

She nodded and stretched up to kiss him. “I need that. I need you so badly.”

“Marry me?” His voice was tremulous.

Buffy grinned at the worried expression on his face. Did he really still not think that she wanted to be with him until she died?

“In a heartbeat. Feel like taking a trip to Vegas?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Not sure your mum would like that, pet.”

“I don’t care!” retorted Buffy. “I want it to be official. I want to be yours.”

“You'll always be mine, Buffy. Don’t need a scrap of paper to make it real.”

Buffy’s bottom lip stuck out and she pouted, but her eyes were smiling. “So, you don’t want to marry me after all?”

Spike’s teeth nibbled at her lip. “Oh, I’ll marry you, all right, but it’ll be done properly. I want everyone to know that I’m marrying you; I’m not going to skulk off like I’m ashamed of you. I want it to be perfect.”

He took her hand in his and they began to walk towards Spike’s home.

“Everything’s perfect when I’m with you,” she replied.

Spike looked down at her upturned face and agreed with her. “Perfect.”

There was probably a song in there somewhere…

The End


Chapter End Notes:
Hope you liked the story I wrote based around the lyrics of three songs by The Script. Please take a moment to comment :)



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