"Spike, we already had this conversation," Buffy told him as they stood outside of Sunnydale Memorial Hospital. "I appreciate that you want to be here with me, really I do, but this album is important. You need to be in L.A. to work on it. I'm going to be fine. The doctors are planning to release her tomorrow, and once she's settled back at home, I'll leave. Besides, if you stay now, I'll just start worrying about you neglecting the band."
"That's a completely unfair ploy, you know, telling me I'll worry you more by staying," Spike pointed out with a frown.
"Yeah, but it's true." Buffy replied. "I'm fine here. The best thing you can do right now is go home." Spike flinched at her words, and Buffy immediately reached out and took his hand. "Hey, I don't mean I want you to go away. I love you, and having you here for support while my mother was in the hospital has meant so much to me. But I can't have you sacrificing your career for this. The last thing I want is the band calling me Buffy Ono."
Spike chuckled, and Buffy was glad she seemed to have diffused the situation before his mood grew darker. She'd figured out feeling needed was important to Spike, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel otherwise. Spike slid his fingers between hers with the hand she'd taken hold of. "Are you really sure, kitten? I hate leaving you like this. What if something happens, and you need someone to support you?"
"Honey, you're not going into the jungles of South America under strict orders of radio silence," Buffy replied. "You're not even leaving the state. I can still call you if something comes up, and I'll be home in a couple of days anyway."
"I know, but I still…" Spike stopped, and dropped his gaze away from her. While his primary reason for wanting to stay was because he wanted to be there to support her, another part of him wanted to stay so he could simply be near her, and it made him feel somewhat guilty. She had too much stress in her life right then to have to deal with a clingy boyfriend, too.
Buffy, however, was more perceptive than he was giving her credit for, and was able to pick up on the second reason without him actually telling her. She moved closer, placing her free hand against his hip. "I'm going to miss you, too, you know. But it's only for a little while, and when I come home, I promise I'll make up for the fact that I haven't exactly been big with the whole physical expression of love recently."
Spike looked up again sharply. "Buffy, I haven't been expecting… I know you've been under stress, and I haven't…"
Buffy stood on her tiptoes and put her finger against his lips. "I know, baby. But it has been a while—at least for us—and I know you have to be missing being inside me—like I've missed having you inside."
Suddenly, Spike's eyes darkened, a shiver running through his body. He pulled the finger that was at his lips into his mouth and gave it a light nibble. "Whenever I'm not inside, I miss it, pet," he said as he let her hand drop.
Her response was to kiss him, long, and slow, and deep. She hadn't kissed him like this in days either, and now it was making her knees buckle. Spike wrapped his arm around her to steady her even as Buffy was taking handfuls of his shirt in her fists, moaning into his mouth.
When they finally broke apart for air, all Spike could think was that he really didn't want to leave her now.
"I'll be home in a couple of days," Buffy promised him, unclenching her hands from his shirt and placing them flat against his chest instead. "You can shag me until I can't walk straight then."
Spike's mouth twitched up in a smirk. "I'm holding you to that, pet."
Buffy kissed him again to seal the deal, though she pulled back before it got too heated again, knowing that would only make it harder to say good-bye. "Okay, now you go in and say your good-byes so you can get home and make an album."
Spike nodded, though Buffy could still see the reluctance in his eyes. "We'll be together soon," Buffy promised, stroking his cheek softly. She smiled at how Spike automatically nuzzled against her hand.
"I know," Spike conceded, though he already felt as if he were missing her, even as she stood in front of him. "Let's go then."
As Buffy lay alone in bed staring up at the ceiling, she wished she had it in herself to be more selfish. She missed Spike the most when she was trying to sleep, nothing seeming right without him cuddled up against her. For all the talk about men hating to snuggle, hers was practically a teddy bear.
She'd gotten used to it early on, before they were even a couple. Those nights when he'd just held her to help her chase away her demons had gotten her hooked. Part of her wished now that she was the sort of person who could demand he focus solely on her so she could have him with her now instead of being forced to sleep alone while he was in Lost Angeles, but Buffy knew she could never do that to him. She loved him too much to ever try to stand in the way between Spike and his music career. He'd been working towards this longer than he'd known her, and she wanted him to succeed. He deserved it.
Still, Buffy was glad she'd stayed. Her mother already seemed to be doing a little better, but she wanted to be there when Joyce came home, for her own piece of mind if nothing else. She also knew she was going to have to visit, probably often while her mother was undergoing radiation therapy. Joyce could still take a turn for the worst, and Buffy wanted a chance to work through their issues before that happened. Even if it turned out their issues weren't ones that could be worked through, she wanted to be able to say she'd tried. If she didn't, she'd be facing a lifetime of regrets, and she already had more than enough of those.
Buffy curled up on her side, hugging the pillow Spike had slept on the night before. It still held traces of his scent, and she breathed it in, letting it calm her. For a moment, she didn't realize she'd begun to cry until the pillowcase grew damp, and she squeezed it tighter, wishing it could be him. The past week had been an emotional roller coaster, and no matter how hard she tried to keep herself collected, she couldn't.
Her cell phone rested on the edge of the bedside table, and Buffy fought the urge to call him. Knowing Spike, he'd turn right back around and return to Sunnydale if he heard her crying, and she didn't want him to do that more than she did. Emotionally, she wanted him there to hold her, but logically, she knew her neediness was not as important as the album. She could make it through this night on her own. After all, she'd been sleeping alone for years before Spike came into her life, and she'd survived just fine. With everything he did for her, she owed it to him to allow him to let his career come first.
She gripped the pillow tighter.
Spike was not having what he'd call the best day of his life. He'd gotten very little sleep the night before worrying about Buffy, and then his morning in the studio had been such a complete bust that he was pissed off for having to come back at all. Their bleeding wanker of a guitar player, Brian, had thrown a complete fit about Oz and Rory not wanting one of his songs off the album, and when Spike had thrown his lot in with the bassist and drummer, Brian had hit the roof and stormed out. After waiting two hours for him to come back, they'd called it a day, and now they were out of the studio again until Thursday—if Brian decided to get his head out of his arse that was.
Spike had been in no mood for drama, but the fact remained that the song was crap. Brian knew how to play, but he'd never been much of a writer, and cutting that song made room for one Oz and Rory had written which had actual potential to be a hit—not that one song on an album that always seems to keep them from being all ones you don't want to skip past. That and the lyrics were so bloody stupid Spike had to fight from rolling his eyes every time he sang them.
With the day a bust and Wednesday called off, Spike made the spur of the moment decision to go back to Sunnydale. He'd talked to Buffy before she'd gone to the hospital, and he'd made the ill-fated trip into the studio, and she'd told him she was planning on coming back to Los Angeles the next morning. Seeing as she had no car of her own, that would mean either Giles would have to take her or she'd have to take the bus, and Spike knew it would be easier for her if he was there to drive her home. So he went back to their apartment long enough to throw a few things in a bag and set out again.
After the day he had, too, he wanted to see her. He knew he couldn't put all his troubles on her, not with her mother being sick, but being with her was bound to make him feel better. It always did. He knew if he was holding her the fact that Brian was already exhibiting diva-like behavior before the first album was even finished wouldn't matter so much anymore. Or any of the other little annoyances he'd discovered came with making an actual studio album either.
Buffy had told him that morning they were keeping her mother for most of the day, wanting to get a few more tests and observation in before they sent her home, so Spike bypassed Revello Drive and went straight to the hospital. He thought as he pulled into the parking lot he probably should've called, but he hadn't wanted to take the time to stop long enough to use the phone. He'd just have to assure her he hadn't put the album in jeopardy by being there, since she seemed to be worried about that.
Spike got out of the car and stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair, tousling his bleached curls. He was tired and stressed, the majority of his day involving screaming at Brian followed by driving so fast down the interstate he was amazed he hadn't gotten pulled over. He needed Buffy. Even if he couldn't put all his troubles at her feet and have her give him the comfort he really wanted, he needed her. She'd put her arm around him, and she'd kiss him, and he'd feel better.
He walked into the hospital, but stopped short at the entrance to the waiting room, the sight in front of him making him feel anything but better. Giles and Dawn were nowhere to be seen, but Buffy was there, sitting in one of the chairs with her legs tucked under her talking to Ben. Spike couldn't hear what they were saying, but he did hear her laugh, and he clenched his fists at his sides. Ben was in the seat right beside Buffy, so close he was almost touching her, and Spike felt his whole body shaking with anger and jealousy. He'd worried about her being there without him, but apparently, she was handling herself just fine.
Spike wanted to hurt the intern. He wanted to storm over there, drag him away from his girlfriend, and make it clear to him that he needed to stay the hell away from Buffy. But he couldn't do it. For one thing, it would only piss Buffy off, and he did have enough sense to know if he did that, everything would get worse. Still, he couldn't see her now, not like this.
He turned around, left the hospital, and drove back to Los Angeles.
*cowers* Don't kill me? Please?
Yes, there's angst ahead. I'm warning you now. Eventually, it's going to get better and there will be happiness, but it's getting to another bumpy stretch in the road. If you want to duck out for a bit, I'll understand, but please, don't yell at me first, because I'm not going to change what I have planned.