Instead of going to his mother's house on Sunday, Riley had a date to go to the shooting range with Xander and his friend, Sam. Sam, short for Samantha, used to make Buffy feel uncomfortable, mainly because she looked at Buffy's husband like he was her knight in shining armor. That was natural, because he was.
The improvised explosive that took away the use of Riley's legs had also stolen Sam's left hand. Riley had used his body to shield Sam; if he hadn't, she would have died and he would've been able to walk. The two shared something unbearably intimate and when he'd first come home, Riley would spend hours on the phone with Sam. They still saw each other every day.
Buffy didn't want to deny him the companionship, but it had caused a few fights. Lately, though, she was grateful to Sam; her presence lessened Buffy's guilt.
Dawn had wanted to go with her step-dad, which led to an argument. They'd been sitting in the kitchen, finishing up breakfast.
"Guns are bad, honey," Buffy had said.
"What if I want to join the military? I'll need to learn how to shoot a gun then," Dawn said.
"You're not joining the military, you're going to grow up to be a writer and give that Harry Potter lady a run for her money," Buffy said.
"What's wrong with a career in the military?" Riley asked.
"I could write for 'Stars and Stripes,'" Dawn said.
"No and no. Just no, we're not having this discussion," Buffy said.
"Why not? She could pay for college," Riley said, his eyes intent on his wife's.
"She could also die," Buffy said.
"Or worse, right?" Riley said.
"Do you really think that, really?" Buffy asked, standing up and getting close to Riley's face. Dawn looked confused, her eyes traveling from one parent to the other.
"Mr. Pratt said a career in writing is rife with poverty and rejection," Dawn said.
At the mention of Spike's name, Buffy felt a stab in her chest. She had to catch her breath, and couldn't look at her husband as she straightened up.
"He said that to you?" Buffy asked, covering her feelings with a thick layer of anger.
"Well, yeah. He told me I'll probably have to prepare myself for another field and then just do the writing thing on the side," Dawn said.
Riley wheeled his chair out of the room.
"I have to get ready to go, maybe next time you can come
along, Dawnie," Riley said.
"Riley!" Buffy said as she followed him."We're not done here," Buffy said.
"Yeah, we kind of are, Buffy. I'll see you tonight," he said as he rolled into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
Buffy went back into the kitchen.
"Why did you say that to him? You know how much being a soldier means to him," Dawn said.
Dawn had already filled one side of the sink with bubbles and was washing their breakfast dishes.
"Because I don't want to lose you. Ask your Gram how hard she cried when Riley told her he was joining the Marines," Buffy said.
Buffy grabbed a towel that was hanging over the stove handle and began drying the plates Dawn had set in the drain board.
"You're not going to be able to stop me," Dawn said.
Buffy sighed. She could kill Dawn; that would keep someone else from hurting her. But instead, Buffy decided to try her hand at being thankful.
"Do you want to help me bake some pies?" Buffy asked.
***
Spike couldn't be there any more, his nervous energy kept him pacing about the house. He wondered if Buffy would ever call him again, then remembered she didn't have his number. Bugger that, he wasn't going to be the one to crawl back, not after the way she'd left him a few nights ago just when he'd opened up to her.
Instead of calling her or getting a solitary drink at the hotel bar in hopes she'd had a change of heart, Spike took Sunshine for a walk. They went through the park and played fetch until the little puff ball collapsed on the grass, tongue agog. He'd had to carry the great poof home and by then it was dark.
When he stepped inside the house he smelled her clove cigarette and heard the song, the one that had been playing in the bar the first time he'd laid eyes on Drusilla. Dru had been dancing alone and he'd scooted up to her. Without saying a word she'd kissed him, then they'd staggered off to the loo for a shag and he hadn't been able to shake her since. He did like it sordid, Spike thought.
"Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks, the lady of situations."
She must have let the needle drop on the record the moment she heard the door, there was no such thing as a happy accident when it came to Drusilla.
She was walking toward him through a cloud of scented smoke, wearing nothing but his black, buttoned-down shirt.
"Got your postcard, Dru."
"That was a mistake; I should have never sent it. I want us to be a family again," Drusilla said.
A family. She still knew exactly what to say, which wound to press.
She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. It felt the same to be pressed against her, like he was drowning in cold, deep water, fish sliding over his skin and the euphoric feeling that accompanies suffocation.
"The two of us together again,
but it's just the same a stupid game
but i don't care if you don't
and i don't feel if you don't
and i don't want it if you don't
and i won't say it if you don't say it first.
Let's go to bed."
***
Dru and Spike sat beside one another on the bed. She was wrapped up in the red sheet, her hair a sleek, dark curtain. He was naked.
"Who's Buffy?"
"I honestly don't know. Girl I've been seeing, that's all," he said.
"But you love her?
"I do."
"We're really over, aren't we?" Dru asked, her face as impassive as the drawing that hung over his television set.
Spike nodded yes, he wasn’t able to say the words.
Drusilla stood up and began taking her clothes out of the closet, the hangers clicking against the metal rod, the soft sound of fabric landing on the ground. He couldn't watch her taking her things away. Spike got out of bed and took a long, hot shower until his skin looked chafed and pink. He put his clothes on and came out of the bathroom.
Dru had taken most of her possessions the first time she ran away from their marriage. The remainder of what she wanted to retain from their shared life was jammed in two suitcases by the living room door.
"Take the poster, something to remember me by, Dru," Spike said. He took the piece down from where it hung.
"She doesn't like it, does she?" Dru asked with a knowing smile.
They shared a last laugh and then she was gone. Spike stalked around his place, surveying the damage before the failure that seemed to cling to everything got to him. He went for a drive, ending up in front of Buffy's house.
He watched the light glowing through the living room windows for a while before he took out his phone and made the call.
"This is Buffy Finn's phone, Dawn speaking."
He scrambled to find the tiny button that would disconnect the conversation while hearing Dawn obnoxiously repeating
"Hello?"
A few minutes later his cell buzzed.
"What can I do for you?" Buffy asked.
"I'm in the alley across the street from your house, love. Find a way to get outside and meet me."
"No, that's not possible," Buffy said.
"I'll give you ten minutes to come up with an excuse," he said, and then hung up the phone.
He was certain he'd pushed her too far, that she wouldn't come until she was opening the passenger door and sitting beside him. Buffy was wearing a black skirt, a white tank top and a denim jacket. She was also holding a pie with a criss-cross lattice top.
"What's all this?" he asked, pointing at the dessert.
"My pretext for leaving the house. What do you want?"
Spike grabbed Buffy's face and pulled her into a kiss.
He wanted to tell her that when he'd touched his wife he'd felt like he was cheating on Buffy. He wanted to tell her he was in love with her, that he wanted her to stay with him forever.
Instead he pinched her nipples hard through her top and bit her lower lip. Buffy gasped.
"Get in the backseat," he said.
Buffy looked at him; her pupils were so big the green irises were a thumbnail's width. Spike didn't know if it was from darkness or lust. She seemed angry that he was ordering her around, but she went along with it anyway and got in the back.
Soon he was on top of her, his hand under her skirt, rubbing against the damp cotton of her knickers. Buffy unbuckled his belt, his button and took down his zipper in two, rough moves. Spike took a condom out of his coat pocket and gave it to her. Buffy smiled. She put it on him with shaky hands. He captured those hands with his own and kissed them after she'd finished wrapping him up. Then he slid inside, her bare legs flanking him.
"We're going to hell, Spike," Buffy said, her voice taking on a strange depth as it resonated against the curve of his chest.
"At least we won't be there alone," he said.
He anchored himself by grabbing her ass and then rocked in and out of her. Buffy was clinging to his shoulders, her fingernails biting into the leather of his jacket. Spike slammed his head against the door, but he didn't give a fuck because she was begging him to go deeper.
"Spike, please, Spike."
They went on like that, until condensation was sweating down the inside of the windows, until Spike's knees were bruised, until Buffy's lips were swollen and red from his constant kisses.
She came, her legs kicking out. The tapered heel of her shoe ripped a hole in the cloth covering the ceiling as she screamed his name. His orgasm exploded behind his eyes, another bright white light like the kind people who've died claim to see.
They quaked against each other.
"Tell me you needed that the way I did," Spike said.
"I did, you know I did," Buffy said, taking in deep breaths.
"I love you," he said, not caring about the consequences of what it could mean. He had to say it, just like he'd had to be inside her.
"I can't," she said.
"Just know that I do then," he said.
"I have to go," Buffy said, confusion edging out the bliss that had been apparent on her face.
Spike pulled out of her. He tugged the condom off, unrolled the window and then dumped it outside. Littering on top of everything else, quite the bad boy. Buffy sat up, smoothed her hair and set her clothes in order. She looked at him, a sidelong glance.
"My shift ends at one on Tuesday. I could stop by, after," Buffy said.
"S'good," Spike said.
She got out of the car, back to her warm little house that smelled of freshly baked pie.
[Reviews - 108]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2838 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Willow Trees! Thank you for all your comments and for sticking with the story!
Chapter End Notes:
The line about Belladonna is from "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot. The song that is playing and when Spike and Dru get together again is "Let's go to Bed," by the Cure.