Buffy practically skipped up the stairs to her apartment, her body thrumming with excitement at the thought of seeing Spike now that the pressures of final exams were no longer weighing on her. She felt like she'd been a neglectful girlfriend for days now, her entire focus centered on last-minute preparing for tests and writing the insane number of term papers that all seemed to be due on the same day. Not that Spike had complained. He'd been completely understanding and had made sure that she didn't have to worry about anything but studying. He'd fed her, kept the apartment tidy, given her shoulder rubs when she'd been sore. He'd even gone out in the middle of the night to find her ice cream when she'd decided she couldn't possibly cram any more into her brain unless she had a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey.
She had the perfect boyfriend, and now she wanted to show him how grateful she was.
Only as soon as she walked into the apartment, she knew something was wrong. Spike was in the living room, pacing, and she'd known him long enough to know that that meant something was worrying him. He stopped short when he realized Buffy was home and turned towards her, breathing in deeply as he smiled at her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, luv. How were your exams?"
"Over," Buffy replied. "What's up with you?"
Spike shook his head and said quickly, "Nothing. I'm fine. Do you need anything?"
Buffy shut and locked the front door, then dropped her things on the table. "I need you to tell me what's up, Spike. You're horrible at keeping anything to yourself, especially with me. So spill."
Spike sighed and flopped down on the couch. Buffy came into the living room and sat beside him, her back upright as she waited for Spike to tell her what was going on.
"I didn't want to dump this on you when you first got back from your exams," Spike said. "I wanted to give you time to relax."
"Spike, honey, is something wrong? Please, tell me."
"There was a record executive that came out last night to hear us, Buffy."
Buffy grew completely still for a moment. She hadn't expected that. She hadn't expected anything in the neighborhood of that. Spike's behavior led her to believe that it was something bad, but that didn't sound like it was. Granted, he could be about to tell her that the record executive had hated them and walked out in disgust, but this wasn't the sort of behavior Spike would be exhibiting then. That would involve ranting. "And what happened?"
"He wants to sign us."
Buffy's jaw dropped, her eyes going wide. For a moment, she could only stare, unable to come up with anything to say. Finally, she blinked and found her voice again. "Spike, that's wonderful! That's just…wow. Why are you pacing around here looking like someone just died instead of celebrating?"
"Because he wants the band in Los Angeles."
Oh. Buffy swallowed. "Like, permanently?"
"For a while, yeah," Spike replied. "His studio is out there, and he wants us there to record the album. And then there would be all the promoting, possibly touring… I don't know when I could come back to New York."
Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. So this was why Spike was upset… She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What are the options?"
"We can go to Los Angeles together, and you leave everything you have in New York, I stay in New York and give up the deal, or…" Spike stopped, swallowing hard. "Or I go to L.A. by myself."
Buffy felt cold at just the mention of the last choice. But were the other two really any better? Could she leave New York, leave school, her job, her friends—her life? And on the other hand, could she ask Spike to give up his dreams? She knew this was the sort of opportunity that only came along once. If Spike told the record executive no, then he was most likely throwing away the only chance he'd ever have to make it big.
"Do you have to make a decision right now?" Buffy asked.
Spike shook his head. "No. We have a few days," he replied.
Buffy leaned over and rested her head on Spike's shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her to hold her. They were both silent for a long while before he spoke. "I'll stay if you ask me to, Buffy."
"I know." And she did. She knew how Spike felt for her, what he'd be willing to do for her. In the time that they'd been together, she'd learned that Spike loved with every bit of himself, willing to make any sacrifice he needed to for the person who had his heart. That wasn't the question.
No, the question was, would she be able to sacrifice for him. And if she couldn't, could she let him go?
As soon as the shop was empty of customers, Anya approached Buffy, her hands planted squarely on her hips. "Okay, I gave you a whole week off so you could study for your exams. They are now over, so you should be able to work distraction-free. Why are you still distracted?"
Buffy blinked. "Huh? I'm not distracted."
Anya rolled her eyes. "Please." She looked behind her at the other woman in the shop. "Sophie, deal with any customers that come in. I have to talk to Buffy."
Sophie gave a quick "okay" followed by a sneeze, and Anya took Buffy by the arm and dragged her back into the office, ignoring her protests.
"Tell me why you're not focused on selling things and making me money today," Anya said once they were behind closed doors.
Buffy sighed. She didn't want to talk, but that wasn't an option with Anya. Clearly, Anya was at a complete loss when it came to the subject of wanting to keep things to one's self. "It's Spike."
"Have the orgasms started lacking?" Anya asked. "Because I know lots of ways to heat things up in the bedroom."
"No, the orgasms are fine," Buffy replied, the shock of Anya's frank sex talk long since worn off. "It's well…"
Anya smiled her bright, customer service smile, which Buffy was beginning to think was the only way she knew how to smile, and pointed to the small couch in the office. "Here, have a seat and we'll have girl talk."
Buffy sat down without protest. Maybe she did need to talk to someone about this… She'd wanted to talk to Willow, but she wasn't in that day, so that left Anya. As soon as Anya was seated beside her, Buffy said, "Spike's been offered a record deal."
"What?! That's good news! Why are you mopey when you have good news? That's just silly."
"Because in order for him to take the record deal he has to move to Los Angeles," Buffy replied.
"So? I'm still not seeing the bad," Anya said.
"Anya, we live in New York. I can't just up and move back to California."
Anya sighed as if she were about to explain something to a very young, very slow child. "Buffy, Spike's being offered a record deal. He's got a good voice and he's absolutely gorgeous, which means he's going to be ridiculously famous. What could possibly be better here in New York than being with a rock star, huh? I mean, come on. Go to L.A., and live the life of the rich and famous, and stop being such a silly baby about it."
Buffy blinked. Leave it to Anya to put it in those terms. "It's…it's not that simple. I mean, yeah, I'm sure Spike would go far and all, but… I have school. And a life here. And I left California for reasons. Lots and lots of good reasons." She looked down at her hands. "Spike said he'd stay in New York if I want him to."
"Don't you dare ask him to do that!" Anya snapped, making Buffy look up again sharply. "For one thing, it's grossly unfair. And for another, he'll resent you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. He'll start to see you as the reason why he never made it big, and he'll hate you for it."
Buffy nodded grimly. She'd had the same worry herself… "I just don't know what to do. He's going to have to give his answer soon."
"The answer is obvious, Buffy," Anya said in her usual matter-of-fact tone. You love Spike, and he absolutely adores you. Any moron can see that. Men like that don't come along very often, and you'd be the biggest idiot in the world to let him go, especially to hold on to what you have here. I mean really, what's so great about your life? You're going to school. Okay, they have schools in Los Angeles, too, so it's not like you'd have to throw away getting a degree. Your job? Sure, you'd be hard to replace because you're very persuasive, but it's not like making a little over minimum wage doing retail is something to give up being with a rock star for. Think about it. Spike's gonna make like a gazillion dollars. In a few years, you'll be living a way cushy life. So just go to L.A. and stop being such a big whiner."
"Anya, it's really not that…"
Anya cut her off. "Not that simple? Yes, Buffy, it is. Spike is the best thing in your life. We both know that. If you make him stay, then there's the resentment thing, and probably some guilt on your part. It'll damage the relationship, and you'll lose him. If you let him go without you, then you'll definitely be losing him, and soon. And then you'll have to deal with the fact that your ex is famous and you see him everywhere, and won't that just be a knife through the heart? So go. I'm going to consider this your notice and start looking for your replacement."
"What? I haven't decided yet, Anya. I…"
"Oh Buffy, stop it. You're being insane. This is a great opportunity for you and Spike. So you had reasons for leaving California. Big deal. Now you have reasons for going back."
Buffy paused. Anya was right. Not going to L.A. would mean losing Spike, either immediately or eventually, and that wasn't something Buffy wanted. She glanced down at her hand and the ring she'd been wearing there since Christmas, and her mind was made up. "All right. I'll go."
"Yay!" Anya exclaimed and she leaned across the couch to give Buffy a quick, awkward hug. She pulled back again. "Remember me when you're the wife of a millionaire rock star, okay? Think to yourself, hey, if it wasn't for Anya Jenkins, I wouldn't be here—I should send her some money!"
Buffy laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
Spike was sprawled on the couch watching television when Buffy got home, but he sat up abruptly when he heard her come in. There had been a layer of tension between them since he'd told her about his potential record deal, the suddenly up-in-the-air status of their relationship the proverbial gorilla in the room.
But Buffy had made her decision now. She wanted to be with Spike, and if that meant making a move to Los Angeles, then that's what she'd do. Anything else would mean losing Spike she knew, and that wasn't something she was prepared for. She joined him in the living room, sitting up straight as she faced him. "I want to talk to you about moving to L.A."
Spike sucked in a breath, and Buffy could see that he was nervous about what she had to say. "Have you made up your mind?"
Buffy nodded. "I did. I think we should go."
He looked surprised by her answer, and Buffy realized then that he'd been expecting her to say no. "Really? Are you absolutely sure, pet, because…"
"I'm sure," Buffy said. "Spike, this is your big chance, and it would be totally unfair of me to ask you to pass it up like that. And well, on that note, I can't give you up either. I love you, and I want to be with you. You've got more waiting for you in Los Angeles than I have here for me in New York, so we'll go. I might have to take a semester off, but I can transfer to a school there, and we'll work everything else out."
The worried look on Spike's face turned into a smile. "You mean that, Buffy? You'll go?"
"Yes. I will," Buffy replied.
Spike pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "I didn't want to lose you, pet. You mean more to me than anything else. Anything."
"You mean more to me than anything else, too," Buffy said as she returned the embrace, happy just to be in his arms. "As long as I have you, everything else will be okay. I know it will."
Spike kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. "It will, Buffy. I promise you. I'll never make you regret this."
Buffy held on to him tighter, believing in her heart that everything would work out for the best.
And some people said I was out of plot… I've had a plan for this story since the beginning, and no, it is not close to over. So hang in there with me for a little while longer!
Please take a moment to review. It means a lot to me to see what you think about my writing.