“So,” said Oz, as he placed a bottle of Bud on the table in front of Spike and sat down opposite him.
“Willow tells me that her friend, Buffy, is really keen to meet you.”
He knew what Spike’s answer was going to be before his friend even opened his mouth. The body language screamed no.
“Yeah, well, like I said. ‘M not interested, okay?” Spike slid his finger slowly across the table’s surface until he touched the base of the bottle. Wrapping them around it, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a long pull.
“You can’t keep—”
“Leave it, Oz.”
Oz shook his head sadly. At least he could tell Willow that he’d tried…again. Reluctant to press the issue of Spike’s lack of social life on his first time at a Dingoes gig since his fall, Oz changed the subject.
“So how’s the hand? Are you sure you don’t want to play even just one song?”
The tension left Spike’s body, but he shook his head. “Not sure the hand’s up to it. Don’t want to cock it up. Maybe next time, yeah?”
“No maybes, Spike. Definitely next time.”
“You’re still a bloody bully, Nursey.”
“Hey! Don’t call me that!”
Spike grinned broadly. “Why so shy? Kind of pathetic for a bloke to be ashamed of what he is.”
“Huh!” Oz snorted. “That’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black if ever I heard it!”
“What do you mean?” Spike scowled.
“You know what I mean.”
Squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath, Spike said, “Give it a rest, mate. Please. I’m trying…I really am, but…”
Suddenly ashamed of badgering his friend, Oz said, “I know you are. I’m sorry. Let’s just enjoy the gig, okay?”
“Okay.”
Spike gave a ghost of a smile and downed half of his beer in several large swallows, wondering why Oz backing down made him feel more of a failure than normal.
That night even the music didn’t transport him away from his reality like it usually did.
*~*~*~*
Willow walked towards Buffy and could tell from her expression that her friend knew the answer was going to be no. She wished she could tell Buffy the truth about Spike, but she’d promised Oz not to tell and she would never break his confidence.
“He said no.” Buffy’s tone made the words a statement, not a question.
“I’m sorry, Buffy.” Squeezing her friend’s hand, Willow sat down next to her. “But it’s nothing to do with you. Spike’s just going through some tough personal stuff right now.”
“I feel so dumb! I wasted the only chance I’ve had to talk to him by being so…wasted.”
“Um…maybe you should just forget about him?”
“I can’t, Will! I wish I could. It’s crazy, but I just can’t get my mind off him. It’s like we were meant to be.”
Willow nudged her shoulder against Buffy’s. “Hey, I thought all that ‘New Age Hippy crap’ was what I was into?” She grinned.
“Yeah, well, maybe you were right. Maybe we do have soul mates out there. It’s just, I think I’ve found mine only he doesn’t realise I’m his.”
“Listen to yourself, Buffy! You don’t even know him.”
“I know…move on. Forget him.” She glumly ran her index finger round the rim of her glass of mineral water. “I say it every night, but it doesn’t work.”
*~*~*~*
The band had just finished their set and came gambolling off stage with their usual high spirits. Spike shoved his cell phone back in the pocket of his jacket and stood up.
“Hey, man, is it cold back here? Why the jacket?” Devon said when he spotted Spike.
“Uh…” He hated that he didn’t know where they were all standing. Slowly turning his head, he said, “Oz?”
“I’m here.”
Spike focussed his attention on where the voice came from. “Look, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve called a cab. It’ll be here in a few, so you won’t need to drive me home.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, just knackered, is all. And didn’t want you to have to cut the night short ‘cause of me.”
More like you didn’t want to be around in case Willow comes backstage. Oz had told Spike how Willow had been backstage after the last couple of gigs, but had assured him that she wouldn’t be that night.
One of the barkeeps walked up to them. “Hey, Spike. There’s a cab here for you. I told him to pull round to the back door.”
“Cheers, Graham. Um…Oz, I’ll call you in the week, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
The band watched as Spike walked to the exit, his steps sure as he knew they kept it clear for him. When the door banged shut behind Spike, Devon laughed and said to Oz. “If a girl had said that to you, I would say you were being blown off.”
The others joined in the laughter, but Oz glared at them. “Shut the hell up, Devon!” Then he stomped back on stage to start clearing the equipment.
“What’s eating him?” Devon asked no one in particular.
“He’s just worried about Spike,” Jerry said. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah, and get Oz a shot of something. He needs to chill.”
*~*~*~*
“Xander?” Spike called as he stepped outside.
“I’m here. Two steps forward and you’ll be at the door.”
A slight fumble to find the handle and then Spike slipped into the rear seat.
“Home?”
“Yeah, please.”
Spike rested his head back and closed his eyes.
Will I ever get used to this?
*~*~*~*
Buffy had just reached her car when she saw Spike walk out and get in a cab. She was heading off alone, after Jerry had bumped into Willow at the bar. He’d told her that Spike had gone home, so Oz could give her a ride home if she wanted.
Watching the cab as it passed her, Buffy suddenly had an idea and before she gave herself the chance to think better of it, she leapt behind the wheel of her car and followed the vehicle out of the parking lot.
“Follow that cab!” She chuckled a little hysterically.
She soon found out why she’d never bumped into him in town despite Sunnydale’s small size. He lived a few miles to the south of the city limits. Her heart began to pound as she remembered the size of the properties along that road.
Seeing the cab indicate to turn into a driveway, she pulled up at the side of the road some distance back and killed the lights.
“This is crazy,” she muttered, but craned her neck when she saw the cab didn’t enter the gates.
*~*~*~*
As Xander waited for the electric gates to swing open, Spike opened the door. “It’s okay, Xan. I feel like a bit of fresh air. I’ll walk up.”
“Are you sure? I could walk with, if you like?”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. The driveway is about the only place mum can’t leave stuff lying around.” Spike hoped his voice didn’t sound too bitter. “And don’t sit here watching me ‘til I get to the door.”
“What, you a mind reader now?” Xan shifted grumpily in the seat.
“Yeah.”
Spike climbed out the cab and stood until he heard Xander drive off before flicking out his cane and pushing the remote for the gates. The driveway had a low wall down the left side of it and Spike reached out with his cane until he found it and then walked slowly up the drive. He wasn’t slow because he was worried about falling or losing his way, he was slow because he really didn’t want to go back to sit alone in the empty house. His mother and Rupert were at a charity function and wouldn’t be back for at least another couple of hours.
*~*~*~*
Buffy frowned as the cab drove away without having gone inside the boundary of the property, scuppering her plans to drive past slowly to have a look at the house. Instead she reached for the handle and got out the car.
Tiptoeing along like a secret agent on a mission, Buffy kept to the edge of the road and peered cautiously round the wall that marked the entrance. The gates were of wrought iron and so barely impeded the view of her target. In the still night air, a low tap, tap, tap, carried to her. It took her a moment to work out where it was coming from.
With each stride he took, Spike swung a white cane until it struck the stone of a retaining wall. His steps were so sure, for a moment she didn’t believe what her eyes were telling her.
She squeezed them shut and shook her head, then opened them and stared at the departing figure once more. The image remained the same. It could mean only one thing…
Spike was blind!
“Oh, my God!” Buffy clamped her hands over her mouth as the words escaped before she could stop them.
On the drive, Spike halted and turned around, tilting his head to the side.
“Who’s there?” He called out, then added in an undertone, “I can’t believe I just bloody said that.”
Even the muttered words were loud enough for Buffy to hear, and she failed to muffle a snort of laughter at his disgruntlement.
“I know someone’s there. I can hear you sodding laughing. Xan? Is that you?”
Spike took two strides towards the gate before he stopped when no reply was forthcoming. He put his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his cell. What if it was burglars?
“Speak, you git!”
The old Spike would have been down the drive in a flash, fists at the ready. He’d enjoyed a good rumble every now and then. Now, he pressed the number nine on the keypad of his phone, without bringing it out of his pocket, and tried to keep his breathing even.
Buffy took a step backwards, appalled at the situation she’d gotten herself into. She froze when gravel crunched beneath her feet.
Spike stiffened at the noise. Shit! Just my bloody luck. Gonna get offed by some random burglar ‘cause ole Rupert’s worth a packet. At that precise moment, he realised that above all else he wanted to live.
“Uh…I’m gonna call the cops. They’ll be here in minutes.” He cringed inwardly at the tremor his voice held.
Run! Run!
Her brain screamed its instructions to her legs but they remained rooted to the spot. She’d scared him. She’d met him once and had been so drunk she hadn’t even noticed his disability and now through her selfish action of following him, she’d made him afraid.
“Don’t do that!” Buffy faked a southern accent.
Spike’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Give me one good reason.” He pressed the first of the two ones needed to complete the call.
“My car broke down and I…my cell is dead…and I saw the lights…and—”
Taking an unsteady step towards the voice, Spike said, “Buffy? Is that you?”
“What? No!” Oh, triple crap! “My name’s…” She dropped the fake accent. “Oh, what’s the use? Yes…it’s me. Buffy Summers – she of the so wasted she couldn’t see straig…” Her voice trailed off as she realised what she was about to say.
“Right.” Spike’s tone was harsh, as he gripped his cane hard enough to make his knuckles white. “So how come you’re standing there, trying to pretend to be someone else?”
“I…uh…”
“I’ll fill in the gaps, shall I? I know you’ve wanted Oz to set it up for us to go out, so instead of taking no for an answer, you – what? Follow me home?”
“Er…”
“Then you spy on me and see what I am.” He waved the cane for emphasis. “And you try to skedaddle, only I hear you and so to avoid me knowing who you are –since you’re so not wanting to meet me anymore – you do the worst accent I’ve ever heard and think I’m dumb enough to fall for it!”
“It’s not like—”
“Newsflash, Buffy, my eyes are fucked, not my ears!”
She staggered backwards at the venom in his voice.
“Spike…please…”
He pulled the cell out of his pocket and pressed the final one. “Hello? Police, please. I’m calling from Druert House, on Sunnydale Mount. There’s someone acting suspiciously at the boundary of the property. Can you check it out, please? Thank you.”
“You’ve got about five minutes to get out of here.”
“Look, I didn’t disguise my voice because—”
“I don’t sodding care! Just leave me the hell alone.”
Spike whirled round, swung his cane out to find the edge of the driveway and walked away as quickly as he could.
Sirens blared in the distance, coming ever closer. Buffy shifted from foot to foot, wanting to go to him, to explain, but having no way of getting past the gates.
“Oh, fuck!”
She spun round and ran back to her car, kicking gravel up from the side of the road as she did. Wrenching the door open, she almost snapped the key in the ignition in her haste to turn the thing on. The engine roared into life and she sped away from the kerb, just as blue flashing lights appeared in the distance.
Spike’s rush to the house halted as he heard Buffy’s car speed away. He bit the inside of his lip to keep the moan of anguish inside. Another of his dreams was gone. She couldn’t wait to get away from him.
That’s not quite true. The little voice in his head reminded him. You never listened to her side of the story.
“Nothing to fucking listen to!”
By the time he’d arrived at the house, all he wanted to do was get pissed and go to sleep.
*~*~*~*
Buffy drew up outside the apartment she shared with Willow and leaned forward, banging her forehead on the steering wheel a couple of times as she moaned with embarrassment and despair.
“Why did I follow him? Stupid Buffy!”
A rap at the side window caused her to jump a foot out of the seat, bashing her knee on the steering column.
Willow laughed. “Didn’t mean to scare you!”
“You didn’t.” Buffy pushed open the door as Willow stepped back. “Well, you did, but…” She covered her face with her hands
“What’s wrong?” Willow put an arm around her friend’s shoulder.
“Oh, Will, I’ve done something so dumb and now I’ve ruined everything even before there really was anything to ruin.”
“Not sure I follow what you mean. Come inside and tell me all about it.”
TBC
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Betad by seapealsh and dawnofme. Banner by dawnofme.
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