Willow stared at Buffy, unsure of what to say after hearing what had occurred. 

“It’s hopeless, isn’t it?”  Buffy glanced up, eyes swollen with tears.  “There’s no way that I can put this right.  I should never have followed him!”

It wasn’t the following of him that ruined everything, but the fact you tried to hide who you were. 

She would never tell her friend that though.  Buffy hadn’t seemed to realise that the fact Spike had recognised her voice after only one meeting meant he’d obviously been thinking about her.  Oz had told her that Spike was only beginning to come to terms with his blindness, but had refused to be drawn on whether Spike liked Buffy or not.

“It’s not so bad.”  Willow hoped her voice sounded sincere.  “I think you need to get some sleep.”

Buffy heaved herself up from the couch and wrapped her arms around her body.  “Thanks for listening, Will.  God, what a mess.”

Before Willow could reply, she headed for the bathroom.  “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay.”  A peek at her watch told Willow that it was far too late to call Oz to tell him of the night’s events.  Yawning, she walked to her bedroom and got into bed.  Teeth brushing and shower would have to wait.  No way could she stay awake until Buffy had finished.

*~*~*~*

Spike’s mother might still lock away the liquor, but Rupert had shared a whisky with him a couple of weeks ago and had left the bottle in the drawer to Spike’s bedside table.  His fingers fumbled as he tried to find the handle, and it took all of his willpower not to just pick the thing up and throw it across the room.

Finally finding the handle, he wrenched the drawer open and sighed with relief when he took hold of the bottle.  He didn’t bother with a glass, just unscrewed the cap and took a slug.  And then another.  The liquor seared its way down his throat and warmed the ice that had formed in his belly when he realised that Buffy hadn’t wanted him to know it was her.

Oh, my God!

He could hear the horror in the tone of her voice.  She’d followed him home, which meant she was interested in him, but to then try to pretend to be someone else…?  It had to be that the blindness was what scared her away.  It didn’t matter how many times Oz told him that people could see – and wasn’t that just the right word – past his blindness, and like him for who he was, Spike knew that there was a lot of difference between having friends and having a girlfriend.

“This is too fucking hard.” 

He couldn’t stifle the sob that came out when he spoke.  More whisky didn’t even take the edge off what he was feeling, but it did make him very unsteady on his legs.  Spike managed to stagger to the bathroom but, head spinning, he got disoriented.  The return trip to the bed proved impossible and Spike just folded to the floor and slept there.

*~*~*~*

The phone ringing shrilly next to his ear woke Oz up with a start, and he grabbed at the offending item, dropped it, cursed, picked it up and pressed the button.

“’Lo?”

“Hey, Oz.”

He propped his head up with his hand, a smile on his lips.  “Hey, babe.  Missing me already?  You should have stayed over.”

“What?  No…I mean, yes I am missing you, but that’s not why I called.  It’s about Spike and Buffy.”

“Aw…c’mon.  I told you I’m not going to set him up on a date.  He’s not ready.  It’s got to be in his own time.”

“I don’t think he’ll ever be ready to go on a date with Buffy after what happened last night.”

Oz sat up straight.  “What do you mean?  What did she do?”

“What do you mean ‘what did she do?’” Willow bristled on her friend’s behalf.

“Will.  It’s…” he squinted at the clock, “six-thirty on a Sunday morning.  I know Spike was heading straight home, so it’s got to have been Buffy doing something to make you call with a crisis this early.”  Most men’s tone would be sounding peeved, but Oz, being Oz, just sounded calm and logical.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” 

Willow filled him in on the whole episode.  As she was talking, he put the phone on speaker and got dressed. 

“I know she’s your best friend, Willow, but Spike really didn’t need that.  He’s sensitive enough about how he thinks people perceive him already.”

“She didn’t mean to offend him.”

“Doesn’t mean she didn’t.”  This time there was an edge to Oz’s voice.

“Well, if you’d let me tell her about Spike’s blindness, then it would never have happened would it?” 

Oz grabbed the phone and turned it off speaker.  “So you’re saying that Spike is right?  Buffy would never have looked at him if she knew he was blind?”

“No!  That’s not what I meant at all!  I meant that she wouldn’t have been so surprised, and wouldn’t have panicked about it.”

“Why'd she panic, if it wasn’t because she wished she wasn’t there?”

“Don’t yell at me, Oz.”  Willow all but growled.  “I’m not saying this right.  When she first saw Spike, she thought he was looking at her through the window of that coffee shop in town.  Now she feels stupid and knows never liked her at all, and there she was talking to him when she was wasted and then following him home…”

Deciding that to say he thought Buffy was stupid was a sure way to end up single, Oz opted for a safer course of action.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just a bit protective of Spike, I guess. 

“So what are we going to do?”

“Do?”  Oz shook his head.  “Hasn’t enough been done already?”

“I mean to fix it.  What do we do to fix it?”

“We don’t do anything.  Please don’t let her try to contact him.  I’ll go over to see him later, and I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay.  She’s really upset, Oz.  She likes him and she hates that she upset him.”

“She doesn’t even know him, Will.”

“But she wants to.”

“I’m not sure Spike will want it and if he doesn’t she’s got to respect that.”  Oz’s tone brooked no argument. 

“Okay, but promise you’ll tell him she’s sorry?”

“I will.  Call you later.”

He hung up before Willow had a chance to respond.

“Dammit!  This is all he needs!”

Oz glared at the clock as if it was its fault that the time was still too early to go to see Spike right away. 

*~*~*~*

Spike woke with a start when he heard his mother shriek. 

“William!  Are you hurt?  Did you fall again?  Oh, I knew we shouldn’t have stayed out later than you!”

“Shite.”  Spike rolled onto his back.  “Lower the sodding volume.” He slapped feebly at her hands as they touched him.  “I’m alright.  Leave me be.”

His mother huffed and he heard her take several steps away before she said, “You’re drunk!”

He heard her long fingernails chink against the whisky bottle.

“No, Mum, I’m not.”  He laughed humourlessly.  “I was pissed.  Now I’m hung over, and I would appreciate it if you got the hell out of my room!”  His voice rose in volume and by the end of the sentence he was yelling.

“I’m going to get your father!  I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

The door slammed shut as she fled the room.

“He’s my step-dad and you can’t talk to me sensibly ever!”

Groaning loudly, Spike sat up and wondered if it was possible to die of a hangover.  He was just contemplating trying to get up and find the bed, when there was a tap on the door.

“Spike?  May I come in?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Lord, you look ill!”

Spike winced.  “Not so loud, okay?”

“Do you need a hand to get up?”

“No.”  Spike tried and failed to stand.  Scowling furiously, he said, “Well, don’t just bloody stand there…”

Chuckling, Rupert helped Spike to his feet and guided him to the bed.  “Want to talk about why you got so drunk?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Rupert sighed.  “Don’t push everyone away.”

Shifting on the bed so that he has his back partially to Rupert, Spike muttered, “I’m not.”

“No…of course you’re not,” Rupert said sadly.  He placed a hand on Spike’s shoulder for a moment before walking to the door.  “I take it you don’t want any breakfast?”

“God, no!”

“Well…I’ll leave you to your hangover, then.”

As the door closed, Spike flopped down on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face.  He knew he should go and apologise to Rupert, probably even his mother too, but he just couldn’t summon the energy to do it.

“Oh, bollocks.”

He turned over on his side and hoped the pounding in his head wouldn’t prevent him from getting back to sleep.

*~*~*~*

Oz growled at the phone in frustration.  He’d just tried to speak with Spike, but had gotten through to his mother who had politely told him that Spike was feeling ill and couldn’t come to the phone.  There was no point in turning up at the property.  You had to buzz up to the house to be allowed in, so the answer would no doubt be the same.

*~*~*~*

Buffy couldn’t stand it a moment longer.  She had to get out of the apartment. Willow had announced that she was going to stay home that day, but Buffy knew she’d been planning on meeting up with Oz, and didn’t want to be the one to ruin that relationship too.

“I need some air.”  She grabbed her jacket and marched out of the door.  “I’m going to the park.”

“Shall I come wi—”

“Thanks, Will, but no, I need to be alone right now.”

Willow winced as Buffy slammed the door behind her.

“Poor Buffy.” 

She shook her head sadly and reached for the phone, hoping that she wouldn’t end up arguing with Oz again.

*~*~*~*

It was just past noon, and Spike now felt a little more human.  He’d managed to eat enough toast to take some painkillers without fear of throwing up, and now he sat in the garden letting the sun warm his skin.  The secluded spot in the grounds that Spike favoured was a natural sun trap, always several degrees warmer than in the more exposed parts of the gardens.

He pulled the t-shirt off over his head and bunched it up to use as a pillow as he sprawled out on the grass.  Rupert was right.  He knew it.  But he’d always bottled things up, and couldn’t change now.  Part of him wanted to call Oz and talk about last night, but a larger part shuddered at how pathetic he’d seem. 

The episode with Buffy had brought to the surface something that he hadn’t considered before – just how vulnerable a blind man was.  Not to getting upset by stupid, thoughtless girls, but to be in physical danger.  What if there had been burglars last night?  He had no way of defending himself.  Muggers could have a field day with him – certain in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to identify them. 

Running a hand over his stomach, he grimaced as he could no longer detect the well defined abs he’d had before the accident.  He wasn’t fat by any means, but he’d lost the tone that his previously active life had given him.  Would Rupert buy him some gym equipment?  He resolved to ask him when he went back up to the house.

*~*~*~*

After walking round the park for an hour or so, Buffy’s head was clearer.  She walked home, but instead of going inside she got into her car and headed for Sunnydale Mount.   Her courage nearly failed when she pulled up outside the gates and saw that she had to press an intercom to ask permission to come in. 

She gritted her teeth as she reached up, let out a hiss of frustration that she couldn’t reach without getting out of the car, and then stared at the button for what seemed like an age before she used her index finger to push it.

“Hello?”  A man’s voice rattled tinnily through the intercom.

“Er…hello…I’ve…um…is Spike in?”  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.  Why do my brains abandon me when I’m anywhere near Spike?

“He is.”

“Uh…can I see him, please?”

“Is he expecting you?”

“No…no, he’s not.  He doesn’t even really know me, but we met once and—”

“Were you with him last night?”  The voice cut her off.

“What?  No!”

To her surprise, the voice chuckled and she heard the buzz of the gates beginning to open.

“I’ll meet you at the front door.  Just follow the drive.”

“O-okay.”

Buffy climbed in the car and drove slowly to the large house, trying not to goggle at the sheer size of it.  A tall man with glasses stood on the gravel near the door, and she pulled up close to him.

“Hello, I’m Rupert Giles,” he said, holding out his hand.  “I’m Spike’s stepfather.”

“Buffy Summers.  Pleased to meet you.” She shook the offered hand.

A moment’s awkward silence followed before Rupert spoke again.  “So how do you know, Spike?  Don’t get me wrong, but he has never mentioned you.” 

“We’ve only met once…er well, sort of twice…”  Buffy blushed to the roots of her hair.

“Was one of the times last night?”  Rupert regarded Buffy sternly, and she had a flashback to her schooldays when her old librarian would stare disapprovingly at her if she got too loud.

She nodded.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Giles, but there was a misunderstanding and I think I upset him.  I just wanted to apologise to him and then I will leave.”

“Ah,” said Rupert.  “That explains it.”  He smiled at her.  “If you walk over towards the large tree over there, then veer right, you’ll find him.  It’s his favourite spot, but I think that’s mostly because it’s the furthest point from the house.”

“Thank you.”

As she turned to walk away, Rupert called out.  “He’ll be prickly.  Don’t judge him on what he’s like today.  Once you get to know him, you can see him for the person he really is.  The poor boy has been through a lot.”

Buffy glanced back and smiled weakly.  “Thank you for letting me in, Mr. Giles.”

He inclined his head towards her and then strolled into the house.  Buffy walked slowly towards the part of the garden where Spike was.  Now she was actually here, she wondered if this was yet another disastrous idea.  No point in backing down now.  With her heart pounding in her chest, she increased her pace.

Rupert watched the girl from the window until she disappeared from sight.  Had he been right to let her in?  She was obviously the reason for Spike’s binge. But like Oz, he worried about the secluded life that Spike was living, so maybe it was time to jar him out of it.

*~*~*~*

Spike selected skip on his iPod as the intro to Stiff Little Finger’s Tin Soldier began to play.  He still couldn’t bear to listen to it.  He let out a sigh of relief when the Ramones’ Pet Cemetery took its place. 

Really must get the Fingers’ tracks deleted. 

He felt the slight vibration in the ground as someone approached.  The footsteps were too light to be Rupert’s. 

All I bloody need.  Another visit from Mum.

She’d checked up on him twice already, and though his heart pricked with guilt after yelling at her the second time, he really had hoped it would do the trick. 

What part of ‘I want to be alone’ did she not understand?

He squeezed his eyes shut to feign sleep as the steps approached.  They stopped and he waited, deliberately keeping his breathing even.

Go away…just please go away.

*~*~*~*

Buffy stopped a few feet away from Spike’s supine body.  Her mouth, already dry with nerves, suddenly became like the Sahara, as the sight of his bare torso almost literally took her breath away.

He was faking sleep.  She smiled.  People always got the breathing wrong.  For a while she just simply enjoyed the view, knowing it was probably the only time she’d get to enjoy it. 

Just as he began to fidget she spoke, loud enough for him to hear her over the music playing in his ears.

“Hello, Spike.”

He sat bolt upright and tugged the ear buds free with one sharp yank.  His features, so peaceful as he’d lain there, now contorted with anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”