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Author's Chapter Notes:
A day late, sorry! Many thanks to Sotia for beta reading and also to peroxidelove for her thoughts on this chapter. I really appreciate the help!
Swings and Roundabouts

Chapter Seven

Three and a half years later

“…are you even listening to me? Can I go, or not?”

“What was that?” Spike looked up from his computer screen and, after seeing the pout on his daughter’s lips, shut the lid of the laptop. “Sorry. You have my full attention.”

“My friend’s having a sleepover this Friday. Can I go?”

“Erm.” Spike blinked and sat back in his chair. “Who’s the friend? Will her parents be there?”

“A new girl at school,” Claire replied, fiddling with the edge of her t-shirt. “Anne Kingsley. And yeah, her mum and dad will both be there.” She rolled her eyes.

Ignoring the display of near-teenage petulance, Spike felt the familiar jolt at hearing the name Anne. It still happened. Too often.

“Dad? What’s wrong with you today?”

Spike shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and only partially succeeding. He looked at Claire, her eyes wide and pleading, and sighed. “Nothing for you to worry about. Work stuff. Yeah, of course you can go to your friend’s house. I’ll need her parents’ number and address, mind.”

“Yay! Thanks, Dad.” She hugged him quickly and lightly, before heading to the door of his office. “I’m gonna go watch a film, okay?”

Spike nodded, and she left the room, shutting the door softly behind her. He stared after her, his mind still drifting in the sea of memories that hearing the name Anne had brought forward.

It had been three and a half years since that bizarre night and blissful morning in L.A. Three and a half years of hearing a laugh that sounded just like hers, or catching a glimpse of someone with that exact shade of blond hair.

He’d been a wreck when he first got back from the trip. His father and Jenny had attributed his dour mood to the fact that visiting Drusilla’s grave had brought back the memories of losing her, and that was partly true, but it was missing Anne that had made up the largest part of his melancholy.

Anne. It wasn’t even her real name. And God, how he regretted not asking her what she was really called before she’d left that afternoon.

He sat forwards suddenly, his hands forming a cradle for his suddenly aching head. He knew he had to get over it. Forget all about her.

He’d even had a semi-serious girlfriend for a few months, but he still hadn’t been able to let himself forget the girl he’d met in L.A. years ago. He knew it was ridiculous, pining over a woman he’d known for less than twenty-four hours. Bordering on crazy, even. He had to let it go.

Opening up his computer once more, he glanced at the e-mail that had set his thoughts on that traitorous path in the first place. His company’s header stood out starkly from the white of the computer screen, the words of the email blurring as he stared at them.

He had applied for the job on a whim, not expecting the promotion, but there was the confirmation in plain black and white: Congratulations, Mr. Giles. We’re pleased to be able to offer you a position in our Los Angeles office—and he didn’t know what to do.

He had missed Los Angeles, though it had been almost eight years since he’d last lived there, and he couldn’t help but feel that there was another incentive for going back…

Letting out his breath in a rush of air, he shut the computer down and stood up suddenly.

He would have to make the decision on whether to take the job based on how good it would be for his family, not because there was the ghost of a chance he could run into Anne again.

Picking up the phone, he called the local Chinese take-away and ordered dinner for himself and Claire.

***

He stared at her, not knowing what to say. What could he say? Beams of sunlight through the window shone on her hair, making it look like a wave of golden silk.

The silence had turned awkward, and Spike hated it. Everything that had happened between them so far had been so fluid, so natural, that this present awkwardness felt wrong.

“So…” She broke the silence, shrugging, and then looked to the floor.

“Yeah.” Spike took a step towards her, his gaze focused on her face, willing her to look up at him. If he could just see her eyes, see her expression, he’d know what to say.

She let out a huff of air in a stilted chuckle. “Well, this is uncomfortable.” She still didn’t look up.

“Wish it wasn’t,” Spike said. “Wish I could stay a bit longer. Wish we didn’t live so far apart. Wish—”

“Spike, stop.” This time, she raised her head and met his stare. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth fixed in a straight line, jaw clenched. “We both knew what we were getting into. There’s no point in wishing otherwise.” She looked away, out of the window, not even squinting when the sunlight hit her face.

Spike frowned. The silence resumed. He glanced at his watch, and nearly growled when he saw the time.

“Time to leave?” Her voice was light. She was still looking out the window.

“Almost.” The word barely made it past his clenched teeth. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I should go, then. Let you get your stuff together.” She moved towards the desk, where her red bag lay, before going to the foot of the bed and slipping her feet into her shoes.

Spike watched her every movement, fists clenched by his sides. If his life were a movie, this would be the moment when he’d throw reality to the floor and smash it beneath his boots. He’d push her back down onto the bed, kiss her, hold her, make love to her one more time.

The music would swell and the camera would focus on the bedside clock, ticking past the hour of his flight. Perhaps there would be a symbolic shot of the aeroplane taking off in the background.

But no. He might be in L.A., but life wasn’t a Hollywood film, and he sure as hell wasn’t any kind of actor. If he was, he would be able to hide the tears gathering in his eyes as she crossed the room to stand in front of him.

No such luck.

Her hand trailed down the side of his face, and he leaned into it, smelling the perfume she’d spritzed onto the pulse point in her wrist. She leaned forward, and Spike swallowed. Hard. Her kiss was the lightest brush on his lips, and then she was pulling away, her words a whisper on the air. “Goodbye, Spike.”

And then she was gone.

***

Spike shot awake, the dream at the forefront of his mind. He touched his face to find that his cheeks were wet with tears. Shaking his head, he climbed out of bed, not bothering to switch the light on.

This has to end.

He made his way down the hallway towards his study, trying to stay quiet so he didn’t disturb Claire. Once there, he powered up his laptop, tapping the tabletop impatiently while he waited for it to finish loading.

The sound of his typing was the only thing that could be heard for the next few moments, and when he was done, he sat back in his chair, frowning.

I would be delighted to accept the position in the L.A. office. Once again, thank you for this opportunity. Yours sincerely, William Giles.

Finger hovering over the mouse button, he knew that what he was about to do had the potential to change everything.

He clicked Send.

-TBC-


Chapter End Notes:
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