Something seemed inherently better about outpatient treatment, at least in Buffy's mind. If you weren't so sick you had to be in the hospital all the time, then you must be on the road to recovery.
She'd sat alone in the waiting room, her mind drifting to Spike. It had only been a day since she'd seen him last, but she missed him so much already it felt like longer. Buffy reached for her cell phone several times, but she kept stopping, reminding herself he was probably in the studio, and she shouldn't disturb him. She was fine there on her own, and he needed to concentrate on the album without any girlfriendly distractions.
Buffy pulled her feet up into the chair and turned sideways, trying to get comfortable despite the fact such a feat was probably near impossible. It had been easier though, when she could lean on Spike. A small smile crept to her lips as she thought about how good it felt to cuddle up against his chest, even in a place like the hospital. He had one of the best chests she'd ever seen and certainly the best one she'd ever had the privilege of touching. Or kissing. Or licking…
Her smile grew a bit at that particular thought. It had been too long since she and Spike had gotten any decent alone time. It was moving past a week now, and Buffy was feeling antsy. She knew plenty of couples went longer, but they'd never been one of them, and just a day or two without Spike inside of her made her ready to climb the walls. She wanted him just as badly as she had in the beginning, and she was pretty sure he felt the same way about her. They were close on an emotional level as well, but their sexual connection was amazing, the sort Buffy had previously thought was something made up to sell issues of Cosmo. Then she'd met Spike and realized just how real it could be.
She was so caught up in her thoughts of Spike she didn't notice Ben was approaching her until he was sitting right beside her. She started, wondering about his presence for a moment before she had a sudden wave of panic. "Is my mom…"
"She's fine," Ben said quickly, realizing how Buffy could've misinterpreted his appearance. "The tests have all gone well so far. I was just on my break and saw you sitting here alone and thought you might need some company.
Buffy's first thought was, "No, I don't need company. Please go away so I can keep fantasizing about my boyfriend who can do things with his tongue that should be illegal," but she figured that would be rude, and Ben had been nice to her through all of this. "My step-father and sister went to get something to eat," Buffy told him. "I stayed behind in case Mom needed me."
"Did your boyfriend not come in with you today?" Ben asked, trying his best to sound casual.
Buffy wasn't fooled. She thought Spike was overreacting about the whole thing, but she also knew Ben was attracted to her at least somewhat. She wasn't clueless. She just didn't think it was a big deal since she felt nothing for him, and he seemed professional enough not to cross any lines. And even if he did, she was not a damsel in distress. She was fully capable of kneeing him in the balls and pepper spraying his eyes. She hadn't spent years on her own in a major city and learned nothing.
"Spike had to go back to L.A. yesterday," Buffy replied. "He's in a band, and they're recording their first album. He needed to be in the studio this morning."
"Oh, a musician, huh?" Ben said, his tone just impressed enough to try to hide his distain. "What instrument?"
"Well, he can play the guitar, but he's mainly the singer. He's got a great voice," Buffy smiled, doing her best to convey where her interests truly rested. "He's a good songwriter, too. He's written some really nice ones for me."
"Then I wish him good luck on his album," Ben replied.
From there, he turned the conversation away from Spike, trying instead to catch Buffy's interest with humorous stories of life as an intern. Buffy had to admit they were funny, and most of them did make her laugh, but in some ways, the whole thing was bringing her back to her ill-fated attempt to date Riley Finn. Ben was a nice enough guy, but she felt no real spark with him—not the way she did with Spike. Maybe at another point in her life, before she'd learned the meaning of true passion, she would've been attracted to Ben, but not now, not when she knew what she'd be giving up.
When the conversation came to a lull, Buffy spoke up, deciding to nip any feelings Ben may be developing for her in the bud in a more productive way than Spike's glares and macho posturing would turn out to be if experience had taught her anything.
"Ben… Okay, I may be completely off base here and way too self-absorbed, but I'm going to come right out and say something, because I'm getting a vibe. I love my boyfriend. Really, really love my boyfriend. And he loves me, too. I know he probably looks all unstable-bad boyish, with the punk look and the being in a band thing, but he's not. He's a sweet, loving, wonderful guy, and I could never do anything to hurt him. I just…thought you should know that."
Ben pulled away, blushing a little at Buffy's shutdown of his attempt to get closer. "All right. I can respect that."
"Good. Thanks."
Ben stood up. "My break's about over. I should be getting back to work."
"Okay. And I really am thankful for all the help you've given over the past couple of days," Buffy told him.
Ben smiled. "I'm glad I could help." He cleared his throat. "I hope Spike knows how lucky he is."
"I'm the one who's lucky," Buffy said softly as she watched Ben walk away.
Joyce had wanted to go to bed almost as soon as they got her back to the house, but Buffy didn't let her mother's tiredness worry her. The doctors had released her, so she must be well enough to be home. Besides, who wouldn't be tired after all Joyce had been through?
Buffy watched television with her sister for a little while before she excused herself to go upstairs and call Spike, figuring he had to be out of the studio by then. She stopped right outside of her mother's bedroom, a smile creeping to her face as she peeked in through the partially-opened door. Giles had gone with Joyce to bed, and now they were both asleep, Joyce curled up in her husband's arms.
She was glad to see them so close, happy to know the distance between herself and her mother hadn't driven a wedge between Joyce and Rupert as well. The scene she was stealing a glimpse of warmed her, the love Giles felt for his wife clear in how close he was holding her, even in his sleep.
Buffy cocked her head, suddenly seeing the scene in another way, and she gasped. They weren't identical copies, sure, but she knew both herself and Spike bore definite resemblances to their respective parents. Watching her mother and Giles now was almost like getting a tiny glimpse into her future, what she and Spike could be like someday, years from then. She smiled, thinking about them growing older together and still being just as much in love. Buffy couldn't imagine her life any other way, not anymore. What would she have if she didn't have Spike?
A smile still on her face, Buffy closed the bedroom door the rest of the way, wanting to make sure that Joyce and Giles weren't disturbed. They looked so peaceful, and she wanted them to stay that way as long as they could. The ordeal they'd face had to be harrowing for both of them, and she knew they deserved their rest now.
She couldn't imagine having to go through what Giles must've been going through with Joyce in the hospital. The idea of Spike getting that sick scared Buffy more than the idea of it happening to herself, and she wasn't sure she could be as strong as Giles had been, especially if she'd already had to go through the same thing once before, the way he had.
Her desire to talk to Spike now even greater than when she'd first come upstairs, Buffy went into her room. She dug her cell phone out of her purse, pushed the speed dial button for their apartment and listened to the rings.
She frowned when the answering machine picked up, but started a message when she heard the beep.
"Hey, honey, it's me. My mother did get out of the hospital today, and the doctors say she's doing well, so I'm going to come home tomorrow like I planned. I don't want to make Giles leave Mom and Dawn on their own, so I'm going to take a bus into L.A. tomorrow afternoon. I'll take a cab from the bus depot, so you don't have to worry about working your schedule around getting me or anything. Okay, well…call me when you get home, all right? I'll have my cell turned on. Love you, Spike."
Buffy hung up her phone, wondering where Spike was. Usually, he'd come back from the studio by this time, but she knew there were some days when they stayed late, so she figured this must be one of those times. She almost called the number there to check, but decided against it. She'd already kept him away from the band long enough, and if they were making up for lost time, she didn't need to be disturbing him. Everything had gone smoothly today with her mother, so there wasn't any reason to talk to Spike right then anyway. She could wait until he got home like a patient girlfriend.
She ran her fingers over the numbers of her cell phone, wishing he'd get home soon. She missed the sound of his voice almost as much as she missed his touch. Plus, while everything had gone as well as it could for her that day, she wanted to hear if his day had gone smoothly as well. She worried about him taking that time off to be with her, and she wanted the reassurance that it hadn't caused any problems for the band.
Buffy lay down on the bed, her head resting against the pillow and her cell phone cradled in the palm of her hand.
Spike heard the phone ring, and the sound of Buffy's voice managed to penetrate the haze of his alcohol-induced stupor, but he didn't get up to answer. What she was saying barely made any sense to him anyway at the moment, and he certainly didn't feel like talking.
He'd been drinking since he'd gotten home, and it still wasn't enough. With the way he was feeling, he wasn't sure it would be enough until he was no longer conscious. He was too raw inside for the alcohol to make him numb the way he wanted to.
He ran his finger around the rim of his glass as he stared into the dark brown liquid. Even with the chance of success presented to him now that he had a record deal, Spike found himself wishing they'd just stayed in New York. Everything had been simpler there, and he'd been happier. Even with knowing he'd never make the kind of money as a bar musician that he could with a real record contract, he'd preferred going out and performing like that to all the rules and pressure of making a studio album. For the first time in his life, singing was the source of his stress instead of his release.
The one spot of calm in his life had been Buffy. He'd leave everything from the studio behind when he came home, happy to be greeted by the bright ray of sunshine that was his girl. Buffy was always so glad to see him, so ready to welcome him home, that he was able to leave all his stress at the doorstep. Yet, in an instant, it had all changed. Joyce had gotten sick, and suddenly part of his stress was worrying about Buffy. She was the one who needed the comforting now, and Spike felt like he was failing there. He couldn't be there for her completely, not with the sodding album, and when he had been there, all he'd done was bollix things up.
Maybe she'd be better off with a guy like Ben. The guy looked right stable after all. He had to be better than the emotional wreck Spike knew he was, and he probably didn't have a tendency to self-medicate himself with absurd amounts of alcohol either. Spike figured that was probably a plus in a boyfriend.
He downed the rest of his drink before pouring himself another.
Please take a moment to review. Feedback is very important!