As Spike reached to grab his bag from the plane’s overhead compartment all he could think about was Buffy’s face the last time he saw her, the tear that fell down her cheek, the pained look in her eye. The thoughts of her had started about 3 hours ago, he’d managed to sleep most of the flight, but as soon as he’d woke up, checked the time and realised how close they were to landing he got a sick feeling in his gut. It was a mixture of needing to see her so badly it hurt, combined with worrying so much about what she would say when he finally got to tell her how he felt, that he wanted to vomit with nerves.
He leant against the headrest of the chair in front of him as he stood in the aisle waiting to de-board. He wanted to get off this thing, he felt dizzy, he couldn’t breathe. He had to see her now. There was something holding up the line and no one in front of him was moving, he lowered his head onto his outstretched arms. He wanted to crawl in a hole, he didn’t know if he could do this. The coward in him wanted to stay here forever, the man in him wanted to go to her now.
He just wanted to be with her, his body ached for her, but more than that, so did his heart. Ever since he’d left her he had been in pain. In England he’d tried to ease the pain, but that just made him see she was the only thing he needed or cared about. The band’s success on the tour, the travel, the music, the exciting new future that had suddenly been dropped into his lap, none of it meant anything without her. The band had figured that much out even before he had. He’d tried not to ruin it all for them, but they could see he wasn’t happy.
The tour had been extended twice, and each time he’d said yes. He couldn’t let the others down, but his agreement tasted like ash in his mouth and he never stayed long in the room to celebrate or discuss the new dates once they’d been decided. The band got it, they never talked about it all together, but him and Oz would talk about Buffy. Spike would say how all he could think about was going back to New York to see her, whether she accepted him or not, and Oz would agree that he needed to talk to her. Though he feared the outcome and how bad Spike would get if they split a second time, he knew Spike would soon run out of steam without getting some sense of closure, and in the long run that would be more detrimental to everyone, most of all Spike himself. When the tour ended everyone knew they could have gone longer, everyone except Spike. He was tired, he was homesick, he was lovesick.
“Christ.” Spike said under his breath, frustrated and jetlagged already, but even as the words slipped from his mouth, the queue began to move.
Buffy was just switching off her computer when she looked up and saw she was the only one still there. Every desk was empty, every booth abandoned, even the lights were out and she hadn’t noticed. Buffy laughed to herself, who knew she could get so into working that the time passed too quickly rather than too slow. She swivelled her chair around to pick up her bag and as she began loading files into it from her desk she saw the main door to the office open and a crack of light spill through.
“Buffy?” asked Fred as she came through, “You’re still here? Thought you’d be long gone by now.” The skinny young girl began looking around at the empty room. She then walked across it and around the booths until she got to Buffy’s.
“Yeah, well.” Buffy replied a little embarrassed, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear innocently, “I sort of lost track of time.”
Fred smiled sweetly and then held out a file to Buffy, “This is the photography budget for Sam. I was just going to leave it on your desk, but here.”
“Thanks,” said Buffy taking it from her and putting it in her bag along with the others, “Sam told me she wanted me to go over it rather than the weekend girl if you dropped it off in time, I’ll take it home and email it her tomorrow.”
Fred smiled again, “You’re such an honest person, Buffy. You know you could just have left it for her and said you didn’t see me. You work too hard.”
“What about you?” Buffy defended, instead of explaining that she actually welcomed the work, welcomed anything that passed the time, “You’re still here, and I’m guessing you aren’t going home anytime soon.”
“I wish.” Fred sighed, “You know what they say about assistants.”
Buffy laughed and finished the sentence for her, “First ones to arrive, last ones to leave?”
Their chat was disrupted by a door closing. They both turned to the back of the room and Buffy stood to get a better look.
“Hi, Sam.” Buffy offered nervously seeing her boss stood there exiting a small private office, “I didn’t know you were still here…we…we were just…”
“Don’t worry, Buffy.” Sam chuckled as she turned to lock her door, “I worked my way up the ladder remember? I’ve been in the same position as you, so I can’t say it isn’t true…I don’t envy your job.” she said walking forward. “And I’m glad you’re still here, you do good work, so it benefits us all if you do it for longer,” she whispered the next sentence as if it was a secret they weren’t supposed to know, “Makes my job easier.”
Buffy smiled at her.
Sam turned to leave, then paused and turned back, “Don’t forget those article corrections I gave you, I need them by Monday.”
Buffy nodded.
“Have a good weekend girls.” she said as she left.
After an awkward silence Fred turned back to Buffy, “It’s a good thing your boss has a sense of humour.” she let out a relieved sigh, “Anyway, have a good weekend, Buffy.”
Buffy forced her bag closed, put on her coat and left the office for the night.
When Buffy got home she went straight to her room, sat at her desk and finished her work for the weekend all in one go. She didn’t find it a chore, not like anything she’d done before, she even found college work more tedious, but since it was summer she didn’t have to worry about that. She worked 4 days a week at the paper, and Sam gave her all the most important paperwork so she felt really settled there. She almost wished she didn’t have to go back to college next year, but she knew the paper wouldn’t give her a fulltime job if she didn’t.
She’d sent in a few column articles since she’d been working there, Sam suggested it and also suggested she sent them to the executive editors upstairs so they got a completely unbiased review, which was fine with Buffy as she valued honestly above all. Even if she got feedback she didn’t want to hear, at least then she’d know if she was wasting her time.
In fact afterwards she felt surer of what she was doing than ever before, the articles weren’t published, of course she didn’t expect them to be, but she was told to keep them and resubmit them at a later date. After which Sam asked her into her office, sat her down and told her everything straight. The road ahead would be long and hard, but she’d talked with the other editors and they had only said good things. She personally believed Buffy had the talent and dedication to go all the way, but in order to do that she would have to finish her degree before applying for a fulltime job, either there or somewhere else as an assistant. She was also basically told if it was up to Sam she’d open a place up for her at the newspaper when the time came, and she was strongly encouraged to remain working under her, maybe at the weekends for the next year when she went back to college.
It was all terribly exciting; if not mind blowing that her life had changed so dramatically. Although every now and then Buffy found it hard to be happy. In fact the reason she chose to work so late was because she hated being at home alone, at least her work gave her something to think about other than him.
She never let herself talk about him anymore, but thoughts of him rarely stopped. She didn’t think they ever truly would.
She walked up to her phone to see the message button beeping, with a small twinge of nervousness, something which had never left her after all these months every time she answered the phone or received a letter in the mail, she listened to her answer machine.
“B, all work and no play makes Buffy a dull girl. It’s been too long, so you better call me or I’ll kick your ass.” Faith’s voice rang out on the machine.
Buffy smiled, it was the best message she could have hoped for. The reason she’d done her work so early was because she wanted to enjoy her weekend and be carefree. She felt like she deserved it, and god knows she needed it. Faith would take her mind off everything; she had to try so hard to seem over Spike in front of her friends that sometimes when she was surrounded by people she could actually fool herself into thinking it was true.
Just as she was about to pick up the receiver to call Faith back she heard a knock at the door. Without another thought she turned and pulled it open.
His heart instantly warmed at the sight of her, everything about her seemed to radiate warmth and joy. But when she looked at him and the panic hit her eyes, all that warmth got sucked out of the room as if it had never been there in the first place.
She met his steady crystal blue eyes and they froze her as if they were made of ice. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, this was the one thing she’d been waiting for, the one thing she never thought would actually happen, the one thing she was terrified of. He was here, in front of her.
She went to say something, but no sound came out. It was as if the words had got stuck in her throat. But more than that, her lips couldn’t even form any words. She felt as if she was trying to speak, but for a while nothing happened. She just stared forward, for the longest time trying to muster any kind of response.
“Spike?”