Chapter 2
Maggie Walsh was from that women who don’t give children candies except for high holydays, who planned every step from the clock-ringing in the morning till the coming of the sleep at night, who have a task-list and a rule-list both longer than her biography, who ground you when you touch the dinner before she said so and who worship the neatness and cleanness. That would be Maggie Walsh if she actually had children or family and if she was a housewife. But, now she was Professor Walsh, doctor of sciences, in charge of a military program, with lots of subordinates. She organized a ‘formal dinner’, for to be called ‘party’, where was the mayor, the dean, all the generals and all the lieutenants and even the archbishop. Usually a cold and strict person, now she smiled at her guest even if she would prefer to kick them. Instead of a white coat, she was wearing a long dress, with make-up on her face for first time from years. There were all her agents, most of them with their wives. She didn’t have enough words to express the disdain that she felt for those women. They were all she hated, all she was fighting, they were superficial and stupid and selfish. All they did was looking at the mirror, asking ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful of all?’ and because the mirror couldn’t say ‘You’ they thought they had to be more beautiful and went to buy more cosmetics and cloths.
Oh there he is her favorite agent Finn. He was with his small wife, too. Is anything beneath that blond hair? She doubted. And what was her name? It had to be something fluffy, like Betty or maybe Belinda. No, she looked more like Brenda. She couldn’t remember. How old was she? 18? What was wrong with Riley to marry this kid? Professor Walsh walked to them and greeted them kindly. A plastic smile stuck on girl’s face. She was like a doll. Crab.
“Riley, can I talk to you for a second, if your lovely wife excuses us?” Maggie asks, her voice smooth and cautious.
“Yes, of course.” Agent Finn answered without waiting his wife say something and they went to the other side of the room.
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Oh, thank God! They left her alone! Buffy already thought that her face was going to be dead stiff because of the shiny but still so fake smile. This place, these people, all was too Middle-West style for her. Even the food, all tasted like grease and cabbage, she called it ‘gross and garbage’. She looked around her. The hall was lighted by many chandeliers with millions of hanging glassy things, the walls were painted in light blue which could be nice if there weren’t the lots of paintings depicting battle scenes and half naked nymphs. Everything, including the Chinese vase, was pretending to be elegant and tasteful. Then there were people. They were the most pathetic picture in whole room. All was dressed up or like penguins or like miserable princesses just back from their hooker duties. She, herself, was spent Riley’s money on a light purple dress without sleeves, but with a very long shawl. She didn’t look like a hooker, did she? Oh, who was she kidding? She was the same as the others stupid dolls in the room! Bloody hell! Four years earlier, she wouldn’t wear this thing in any circumstances. She would be in jeans and loose t-shirt, no high shoes, no tidy hair, no disturbing make-up which needed an instructions-book. Oh, God, what had she become? Who was she? Buffy felt sick, the room started to spin, and her knees went weak. She sat down on a chair hoping she wouldn’t faint away. She breathed hard. She needed to get out of here. Now.
“Hey, are you ok?” she heard a voice behind her. It was Riley who was finished his conversation with Maggie Walsh.
“Yeah, I just… I had a headache, can we go home?” she asked with a bagging air.
“You are a bit pale. But we just came”
“We came two hours ago.” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
“Ok, don’t worry. We’re going home after a while. I need to speak to Gream. Understood?” he said softly and kissed her on the forehead.
“Ok. Thanks.”
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An hour and half later, the Finn Family walked in their house. The conversation with Gream had taken longer than Buffy was thinking. She was so tired, but at least room was stop spinning anyway. She went upstairs, dreaming the big comfy bed. Riley’s friends was bored her to death. All they talked was their job, military stuff. She wondered why they weren’t staying in the head office in the night too. Besides they were there all day and that was all they were talking about in the evening.
She sat on the edge of bed and took off her shoes. Her feet ached. A massage would be good, she thought, but then she returned to earth when her husband walked in. He stared at her without saying anything. He seemed irritated, probably because they left the ‘dinner’ early. She felt like she was on exam and he was rating her. He swallowed loudly.
“It’s time for husband-wife’s duties” he said
“Wha…”
“The physical part?” he looked at her like she was an
idiot.
“Oh… duties…” she mumbled, her stomach twisted. She never used to do that. It was more like a torture in the beginning and then it was become just annoying. There was nothing like pleasure or something.
“Take off your cloths.”
“Ok” she said quietly “Just laying there as always?”
“Yes, as always.”
And she did it. She was all naked, lying at her back, waiting for him. She looked away when he undressed himself. She still was kind of uncomfortable, after all three years. When he was ready he climbed on top of her. She was still looking away. He turned her face to his, trying to catch her gaze. She seemed kind of distracted. He kissed her tightly and she barely closed her eyes.
“You have a condom.” She whispered.
“Um… yeah, I don’t plan kids yet” he giggled and
continued his work on her face.
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Spike was sitting in his small apartment and was trying to work. The place wasn’t that bad, for an artist. It was on the last floor in a big building, not too far from the center. There were just two rooms and a bathroom, but the view was amazing. A whole wall was a window. You could see the entire town, with the lights and the shadows. It was perfect for a painter. The neighbors were quiet people who don’t interest much in other’s business. Spike was rent it for a month with stipulation for possibility to rent it again when he’s in town. The owner was an old friend of his. The only problem was a chick that lived in the apartment across the hall. Instead being like others neighbors, she was curious and had a crush on Spike. When he came home she was waiting for him and trying to have a talk with him, but he rejected her every fucking time. But the girl was tenacious and went in his place with different pretexts like ‘Do you need cookies?’ ‘Do you know where the post is?’ ‘I lost my keys can I stay here?’ ‘Can I use the bathroom?’ He was in town just for 4 days, but she already was driving him crazy.
Fortunately, she didn’t show up this evening. Spike was finishing his last painting which had to be in the gallery in two days. It depicted a crying woman in the woods and a couple of monsters fenced her. All the colors were dark and gloomy. All his works was in the same mood. An element repeated that was the woman’s face. It wasn’t every time in first line but it was there. She was always different, sometimes she smiled, sometimes - cried, sometimes was powerful, sometimes innocent and gentle. He painted her like sinner or like saint. It seemed she had possessed him.
He was distracted. The day had confused him. The thought of Buffy didn’t leave his head. She had changed, a lot. She had become weak and obedient. Once or twice in their conversation he caught her eye and saw the old spark. Whatever happened to his best friend, she was still in there, trapped and lying down, but there. He forced himself to think about her like ‘best friend’-way, not in ‘burning love’-way. He had realized his feelings for her just when he had lost her. ‘Shut the hell up, you moron’ he scolded himself ‘she’s a great girl and that cocksucker, her husband, doesn’t deserve her. I’m just worried and that’s all. A. L. L. Understood? Nothing, but brother-sister love and concern! I suck! I can’t even lie to me.’ He threw the paints on the floor and ran a hand trough his hair. He sat on the edge of the window frame and took a cigarette. He lighted it and dragged hard. What the bloody hell was happening to him? He thought he is over that old story. It was over. There was no other way. He could help her if she needed him to, but after that they would be just friends. He would never risk their beautiful friendship for something that could be so temporary like a relationship. He opened his mouth and let the smoke come out freely and slowly. He remembered her face when he had seen her for the very first time. She was 14 and he was 15. She had worn her hair in two long plaits and had smiled like a fool, because that was her very first day in the new school. She was surrounded by other girls and she looked in all boys and giggled. He still can hear the first thing she ever told him: ‘What are you doing in the girl’s changing-room?’ That definitely was a very funny story. He couldn’t help, but smiled. The golden times! Oh, then it was so simple.
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Riley arched his back as he come, and laid back beside her. He breathed heavy and he seemed satisfied. He smiled foolishly and caressed absently her shoulder. His face expressed how proud he was from the good work. As usually he didn’t pay attention on anyone, but himself in that kind of ‘job’ and he thought if it was fine for him it was fine for her too.
“That was good, right?” he asked grinning.
“Uh-huh” she answered.
Her opinion was just the opposite, but it was pointless to discuss it. Buffy felt how he turned on his side and fell asleep immediately. She waited a few minutes, staring in the dark, before stand up. She took a sheet with her, making something like tog of it. She carefully walked out the bedroom and went downstairs. The living room was furnished all in Riley’s taste. A bit Cowboy style, a bit Military style just enough to tease Buffy. The big mirror was the summit of it, standing on the half wall. She looked at it there was a young girl with sheet and disheveled hair. Beautiful face, pale and fine, long blond hair, green eyes. The familiar features were almost the same as she remembered them, years ago. But the sparkle in the eyes was gone, long gone. Her personality was smashed and oppressed- she wasn’t the same girl anymore. How low was she now? She was on beneath. She was beneath everyone, even beneath worms! Or at least, she felt like that. It was horrible. They had taken her, made her the way they wanted her. Who they were? Her father and Riley, of course! At the worst part was- she had let them. She still was letting them. Otherwise she would run away or do something, whatever, but something. No, she just stayed there, playing her part, pretending happy lovely wife. Whole life she was someone’s daughter, someone’s wife. She had never been herself. She was so pathetic! She had lost her real ‘me’. A sob escaped. The conversation with Spike had made her think about her life. Then another sob, escaped too. Her eyes filled of tears. She couldn’t watch that mirror anymore! She couldn’t watch herself! She collapsed on the couch and leaned her face in her hands. She sobbed a long time and after that she drowsed slightly. Before she was completely asleep she promised something to herself. She promised to do something. She promised that she was going to make a move, a change, write her own destiny.
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The sunlight glowed trough the window-wall. It was
almost blinding. It irritated his face. Spike turned away, putting his head beneath the pillow. Oh wait, there was no pillow! He slowly opened his eyes. Great! Just great! He had slept on the couch again. So, here’s the reason of blinding sunlight. And what about blinding headache? The bloody cheep beer! During the thinking last night he had drunk, 3-4 or maybe 5-6 beers, huh? Oh, the bleeding hell! He was going to pay for it with blood. If he just reached the kitchen, he could get Saint Aspirin for help.
Then, someone knocked on the door. What time was it? 7 o’clock? The sound aggravated his headache and resounded in his entire body. Who was that fucking moron? Whoever he was, he was definitely looking for a painful death. Really very painful!
He dragged along the door and had a deep breath before open it. He was almost sure it was the annoying neighbor girl. Then before realize it some arms were around his neck. It was…
“Buffy?” he asked confused “What are you doing here? And where do you get my address?”
She didn’t answer it, just pulled away and hive him a tiny piece of paper with the address on it, written with his hand. He raised his eyebrows and smirked.
“Still good at stealing, huh?”
“It’s not stealing, borrowing; I’m returning it to you,
right?”
He looked at her in disbelief.
“May I come in?”
“Of… of course, yes.” He stuttered and let her in.
She followed him in the living room and he indicated her the couch with a quiet “Please”. She sat down and pressed her purse on her knees. She looked around nervously, avoiding his eyes. It seems there was something wrong with her. She swallowed hard and had a deep breath.
“I woke you, didn’t I?”
“No, I already was awake.” He said clearly.
They were silent again. He watched her, sitting there and checking around and he realized that his head ached less. Just her presence kind of calmed him. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. He just looked at her, picturing her in his mind. He enjoyed the moment, so he didn’t try to speak. But she did.
“I came to apologize.” She declared softly “About yesterday. So, I’m sorry for being such a moron”
“It’s not a big deal” he told her calmly and sat beside her “I’m used to it.”
“Hey” she raised her voice smiling, and then turning back to serious again “I thought, I think you’re maybe right”
“I’m always right, pet”
“Try to be serious, please. The point is that I have to do some change”
“And you decided to come and see me without your husband’s permission?”
“I don’t need…”
“Does he know that you’re here?” he cut her
“No, but…”
“Where’s he?” he did it again
“He’s… he works”
“So, he wouldn’t be happy to know…”
“He’ll be so mad” she whispered to herself
“You’re not afraid from him, are you?” his face turned
to stone
“That’s not the point.”
“Buffy, tell me, is he going to do something to you, if he
knows?”
“I…” his eyes fixed on hers and she couldn’t lie “I don’t
know…”
“Oh, God, the bloody bastard!” He hissed and narrowed his eyes
“Don’t! Just don’t, understand?” she wrinkled her forehead and put a hand on his. He winced, but didn’t withdraw “I feel bad enough without the intervention of William the Bloody.”
“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to…”
“I know.” She said quieter than before “Just it really sucks. I suck.”
“No, Goldilocks, you don’t suck. You’re amazing” he lifted gently her face to him “You just can’t imagine it”
Her lip trembled and a tear dropped from her eye. When she spoke her voice was shaky and hearse.
“No, I’m not” she sobbed quietly “I’m horrible, I’m pathetic, I’m…beneath the worms!”
Her shoulders shook violently and she hid her face in her palms. Spike felt his heart falling to pieces. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her like baby. One hand caressed her hair. She buried her face on his neck and cried galling. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer.
“I let them… I did… they killed me… I let them….” She bubbled “I’m wrong… I let them kill me… please don’t forgive me…please don’t”
“No, no, hush, love, it’ll be ok, I promise” he tried to comfort her but she cried and shivered even more than before
“I’m sorry! I let them… it’s all my fault…”
“No, pet, it isn’t” he got her face in his hand and looked at her tearful eyes “Hear me, you’re not guilty about that soldier boy being such asshole.”
“No…no… I …”
She obviously didn’t hear him, just sobbing and
shivering. He had to do something to get her attention. Here’s an idea. Really bad, bad idea… He wiped her tears, leaned forwards and pressed his lips lightly to hers. They stayed like that for a moment. She did stop crying. Surprisingly to him-she kissed him back. Her lips was so soft, her touch was so gentle... probably that was the way the heaven felt. Her fingers dug in his hair and she moved closer. She thought that if his arms weren’t there, she could just melt away. The kiss still was very tender and caring. It took several moments before they broke apart.
“Wow…” she mumbled her heart beating as fast as one can “That was…surprising”
“Buffy” he whispered “I…have no idea what I have to say”
“Nothing” she said and pulled him into another kiss, more passionate and more needing.
He ran his tongue on her bottom lip hesitantly and she opened her mouth immediately. Their kiss-dance was in perfect harmony, like they were made for each other. Goosebumps passed all over their bodies. She moaned slightly and he gowned deep in his throat. They felt like they were waiting for this moment a long time.
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She lay back in his arms, her head on his chest. Oh, God, she never thought something can feel so good. It was wonderful. That thing that Riley called ‘the husband-wife duty’ was nothing similar. Spike made her feel the heaven with every particle of her. The body and the soul was an entirety. She felt complete. The carrying to the bed, the gentleness, he worshiped her. It was perfect. She smiled and put some gentle kisses on his neck and clavicle and he groaned lazily. His headache was long gone and forgotten. Saint Aspirin was dethroned. Definitely.
“So…” he started after a long silence.
“That was…”
“Surprising?” he joked and she giggled.
“Yeah, kind of”
“Oh, yes, I’m full of surprises” he smirked and gave
her a long slow kiss.
“I thought I knew it before, but now I’m sure of it –
you’re a walking surprise.” She laughed
“Have we crossed the line of brother-sister’s love?”
“Sort of”
“‘Sort of’!” he protested “I think ‘running’ is more
suitable.”
“Ok, we stepped on it several times.” She grinned and
she pressed her body tight to his
“See, Buffy, I know you were upset and I never mean to take advantage of you” his voice was serious.
“No, you didn’t. I just know it.”
He held her hand and she wrinkled her nose.
“Your nails are black”
“Yeah, I do it sometimes, more often when I play the
guitar”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s something from the punk style.”
“Mmm. I like it”
She could hear his heartbeat. It was regular and comforting, pumping to her ear. She closed her eyes, listening it.
He closed his eyes also, breathing the smell of her hair – herbals and a particular aroma, her own. They didn’t notice when they fell asleep.
Few hours later, Buffy woke up. She was warm and happy and oh, shit, she had to go. Now. Riley would finish work in two hours and he would go home, see that she wasn’t there and have a big fight. She got up the bed, carefully not to wake Spike up. But just stood up when he mumbled something and opened his eyes. She smiled at him and caressed his cheek. Then she headed the door to pick up her cloths and he spoke
“Where are you thinking you’re going?”
“I have to go. Riley will be home in a while.” She whispered tenderly.
“And I don’t think you will” he caught her hand and start to kiss her fingers.
“No, I really should go home”
“Stay, it’s early” his voice was deep and full of tense “I need you” he kissed her palm
“It’s so not fear” she said and moaned quietly
“I so don’t care”
He pulled her and she dropped on her back with a tiny whoop. He kissed her neck, her cheeks, her lips, her shoulders and she couldn’t help it, but closed her eyes and moaned with desire.
“Spike” she tried to resist, without much success “I…”
“Stay, please, I need you, I love you” he murmured in her ear.
“Oh, God” she said and kissed him deeply, wrapped her arms around him tightly.
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