Buffy awakened to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She stretched and yawned, rolling over to Spike's side of the bed and finding the sheets cold. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet for her liking, so she got out bed, put on Spike's shirt from the night before and started to make her way to the kitchen.
"Will?" she called, but got no answer.
Once inside the kitchen, she saw a cup already set out for her. She smiled at his thoughtfulness, but at the same time wondered where the hell he was. Just then she heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and sighed in relief. She giggled to herself as she heard him singing on his way toward the kitchen.
"Then one fine mornin' she puts on a New York station
She don't believe what she heard at all
She started dancin' to that fine fine music
You know her life was saved by Rock 'n' Roll"
He continued to sing as he walked into the kitchen, and Buffy stood out of his line of sight, just watching him dance around as he put a bag on the counter. He finally saw her as he turned toward the refrigerator. "Bloody Hell! I thought you were still asleep." He walked over and put his arms around her waist.
"What? And miss a free concert? No way! You're quite the performer." Buffy trailed a finger down his chest, giving him an impish smile.
"Hmm," he said, leaning down to capture her lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show. I always aim to please." He bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"Your naughty looks aren't working on me. What's in the bag? I'm starving." Buffy's stomach rumbled to prove her point.
"Bagels and cream cheese from the shop on the corner. I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed. I got poppy seed, onion, and plain. Which do you want?" Spike emptied the warm bagels onto a plate he'd retrieved from the cupboard.
"Poppy seed, please. I'll get you some coffee." Buffy reached into the cabinet where the glasses and cups were kept, pulled out a large, red, public radio station mug and filled it for Spike, making it just the way he liked. "Will, here's your coffee. Why don't we go sit down and eat?"
He turned and looked at the mug she was holding. His face contorted into a look of disgust. Spike grabbed the mug from her, sloshing the hot liquid on his hands and on to the floor, then dumped the contents into the sink. He hurled the mug toward the garbage at the can but missed, and the cup shattered into pieces on the floor.
"I hate that bloody, God damn mug!" he said, stomping toward the table.
Buffy's heart pounded and her minded raced, trying to understand what had just happened. Trembling, she rushed to the table where Spike, shaking as hard as she was, sank down into his chair with his head in his hands. She pulled her chair close to his and tentatively touched her finger to the angry red burns on his hands.
"Will? W-what's wrong?"
Spike looked up at her, and Buffy could see unshed tears glistening in his eyes.
"Mum used that mug the last time she was here, and I hate it because it's the last time she had coffee here, and she didn't like it. The whole week she bitched about how strong my coffee was, because I only buy extra-bold. She liked mild, as you know, but I couldn't be bothered to accommodate her. I just made it the way I always did, and she had to add water to it. Why couldn't I do one small thing to make her stay more pleasant? I was such an ass!"
Tears ran down his cheeks, and he tore his gaze from hers as his chest heaved with a deep, mournful sob.
Buffy took him by the wrist and pulled him into her arms. "Oh, Will, I'm so sorry. You know she didn't really care about the coffee. You were a good son. Don't let some stupid piece of ceramic make you feel inadequate. You know she would say the same thing if she were here. I'm just sorry I brought up bad memories for you," she said, as she rubbed his back in soothing circles.
He sat up and wiped his eyes. "It's little things like this that get me. That's why I stayed at your house in Sunnydale. At home I'd expect to see her in the kitchen every morning. When I proposed to you, my first instinct was to phone her, but I caught myself before you could know. I just miss her so much, and it breaks my heart that she won't be there when we're married." His voice broke at the last sentence as unchecked tears streamed down his cheeks.
Buffy wiped the errant tears from his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, then tipped his chin to meet her gaze. "I can't begin to imagine how hard this is for you, but you have to share these things with me. Let me in, or I can't be there when you need me, and I want to so very much. Promise me you'll talk to me when you're feeling like this. You know I miss her too. You know, she would come over for dinner, and I would be making something new. She'd keep asking me if I was doing it right, and I would ask her if she'd ever made the dish before. She'd admit she hadn't, but she was trying to tell me how to do it." Buffy gave a little laugh, her eyes now shining with tears.
"Oh, love, that sounds just like her. She always thought of us as children in some ways. I didn't mean to make you cry too." Spike reached up and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "I promise I'll share more of these things with you, and you share your memories with me as well. Okay?"
"That's what I'm here for, and I promise I'll share too. I do believe that she knows what's happened in some way. After all, it all went according to her master plan, and I'll be forever grateful to her for that." Buffy gave him a small smile before kissing his cheek.
Spike returned her smile and took her face in his hands kissing her soundly on the lips. "Thanks, love. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're right. Thank God Mum was so stubborn and crafty. Otherwise, we wouldn't be sitting here today. Now, let me get another cup of coffee, and we'll have our breakfast."
After breakfast, they cuddled up on the sofa with more coffee and a newspaper to share between them.
"What were you and Fred planning for today?" Spike asked, eyeing her over the book review.
"Nothing much," Buffy said "She asked if I wanted to go shopping this afternoon for a while, but if you have other plans for us, it's no big deal. Have you heard from Jack?"
"No, I haven't, but I'm sure he'll call. He's not exactly known for being an early riser," Spike said. "You and Fred should go and make a day of it. You two seemed to get along so well last night. " Spike absently rubbed his foot over hers as they talked.
"Great, I'll call her in a little while and let her know. What are you going to do?" she asked, her foot tickling his ankle.
He jerked his foot away in response. "I don't know. Maybe I'll plot my revenge against evil women who finds it funny to tickle poor innocents. Ha!" Spike grinned deviously, as he captured her seeking foot. "I caught you!"
"You know I'm not ticklish, so there's nothing you can do." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Oh, I wouldn't under estimate me if I were you." He took her left foot in his hands, massaging it from heel to toe.
"Mmm, I love your idea of punishment." She scooted closer to him, closing her eyes and enjoying the attention. Just then she felt her big toe being enveloped by his warm mouth. Oh, God! Spike swirled his tongue around the perfectly manicured toe before he began to nibble. This just gets better and better—
"Ow! Why the hell did you bite me?" Buffy tried to jerk her foot away, but Spike held on tight.
"I told you not to underestimate me. Do you want me to kiss it again and make all better?" he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows and sucking his bottom lip.
"Nope, I think I'll take a rain check. I need to call Fred and hop in the shower if we're going shopping, and somehow, I don't think your kissing my toes would help get those things done in a timely manner," she said, wiggling her foot, trying to free it from his grasp.
"Is that your way of saying you can't resist my sinister attraction?" He kissed her foot and let it go. "I suppose I'll be kind and stay out your way, so you won't be tempted."
"Oh, for the love of Pete! I'm not even touching that." Buffy stood and bent down to give him a lingering kiss. "I'm going to do my stuff now."
She went into the bedroom to fetch her phone to call Fred, who agreed to pick her up around one. It was ten thirty, so that gave her plenty of time to get dressed and ready and spend more time with Will. She hoped he would be okay on his own. Buffy couldn't remember him having any kind of outbursts like that since the funeral. She walked down the hall to bathroom and started the shower. She knew he missed her, but she had no idea he'd been holding so much inside. She was determined to help him through this in any way she could.
Spike sat on the sofa listening to sounds of the shower. He'd given up concentrating on reading. He tried to think of things he could do today while Buffy was out, and he was failing miserably. Usually he had something to do, but he'd been away so long, he felt out of the loop. Maybe he would go to a movie, the bookstore or a record store, anything but stay here alone. He'd told her to go, because he wanted her to make a friend, but he suddenly felt so alone and lost.
He didn't know where it all was coming from. It had been over a month since his mum's death. He knew he still missed her, but he didn't expect to feel this emptiness inside all of a sudden. It was as though he'd been in daze where her death was concerned, as though he hadn't fully comprehended the magnitude of it before. Now, he fully realized that when he went back to Sunnydale, she wouldn't be there. He could never phone her again. Tears pricked his eyes for the second time that morning. He didn't want Buffy to see him that way. He'd heard the water shut off a while back, so he hastily wiped his eyes, got up, and walked into the bedroom.
Buffy was standing at the mirror in a towel combing out her wet hair when Spike came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Did you have a nice shower?" His voice was hoarse and his nose sounded stuffed.
"Yes, I did, but it sounds like you didn't have such a nice time on the couch." She looked him straight in the eye, as if daring him to deny it.
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about Mum again, and I turned into a sniveling prat," he said, standing back and running his fingers through his hair.
Buffy turned around to face him, and he could see something akin to anger in her eyes. "William Jameson, I don't want to hear you say anything like that again! You lost your mother unexpectedly a little more than a month ago. You've more than likely been in some state of shock, and it's beginning to become a reality for you. I think this is completely normal, and I'm not leaving you alone. I'm going to cancel my plans with Fred."
Buffy reached for her phone, and Spike grabbed her wrist.
"No, Buffy, it's really not necessary. I promise I'll be all right." He looked at her and couldn't believe he had the good fortune to be loved by such a generous creature.
Buffy wrested her hand away. "Yes, it actually is necessary. I couldn't have a good time knowing you were miserable, so we're going to do something together. If you want you can take me to the places she liked to visit, or we could go somewhere else. We could even stay here and just talk about her. Whatever will make you feel best is fine, but I'm not leaving you. Understood?"
He cupped her face and kissed the tip of her nose. "Yes, I understand. Thank you. I don't know what I've done to deserve you."
She pulled back slightly and gazed into his eyes. "It has nothing to do with deserving. It's about me loving you, silly."
"Well, I'm glad you love me, because I sure as hell love you. You call Fred and get dressed. I'm going to hop in the shower. Then we're going to some of Mum's favorite places. It'll be like she's with us." He gave her a quick squeeze, then headed for the shower.
That afternoon Spike took Buffy on a tour of Anne's favorite places. By the time the sun set, Buffy was so tired she could barely keep up with him.
"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" he asked Buffy, who was lagging behind by a good three paces.
"I'm starved and dying of thirst," she said, leaning on his shoulder for support.
"Just up here on the right was our favorite place to eat," Spike said, pointing to a restaurant up ahead with an orange lacquered door. The battered wooden shingle beside the door read, Taj Mahal, Fine Indian Cuisine, in a bold cobalt script.
"The first time I took her here she loved it, and the next time I brought her back she'd forgotten it until I reminded her. After that, we always had lunch here at least once when she visited, and she would always pretend to not remember it. It was our little joke," Spike said.
Buffy looked at the inviting façade of the small Indian restaurant and smiled. "That sounds wonderful," she said, and followed Spike inside.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I know i've apologized in the past for my lack of updates, and last time I thought my life was looking up. I was ready to write again, then suddenly and very unexpectedly, my own mother died. I can tell you, I had absolutely no idea how devastating it is. It's been a little over a month, and I'm just now beginning to fully realize it. She was a wonderful woman, and I was very lucky to have her for almost forty-one years. Some things in the chapter are similar to personal experiences. I also thought it important to show that even though the funeral is over, and he and Buffy are moving forward. He's still grieving the loss of his mother. I'd like to thank my beta's Abby and Diebirchen. Both ladies are invaluable to me.
Chapter End Notes:
The song Spike is singing is Rock and Roll, by The Velvet Underground. You can see it being performed by Lou Reed of The Velvet Underground, here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ArRexgJ41NQ I'd love to know your thoughts on this chapter, if you're inclined to share them. I'm already working on twenty.