She was going to have to find another route, no two ways about it.
She dropped her things on the table and slipped her shoes off before going into the kitchen, snatching a note off the refrigerator door and reading it.
Studying at the library. Be back sometime. Cell phone's on vibrate, so call me if there's an apocalypse or something.
—Dawn
Buffy smirked as she put the note in the trash, glad her sister had finally started letting her know before she up and disappeared. Dawn had begged Buffy to let her stay with her instead of living in the dorms when she'd started college at UCLA, and while Buffy had finally relented, she and Dawn had butted heads when it came to Dawn's level of freedom. Buffy had finally gotten through to her younger sister that she didn't necessarily care how long Dawn stayed out or where she went, she just wanted to know what was up so she wouldn't worry or so she could get in touch with her if something bad happened. Ever since then, Dawn had joked about letting Buffy know where she was "in case of apocalypse," and Buffy had figured teasing notes were better than no notes at all.
Buffy grabbed a few containers of leftovers out of the fridge, dumped them on a plate, and stuck it in the microwave. While she waited for her dinner to heat up, she went into her bedroom and changed into a pair of light cotton pants and a camisole top.
After retrieving her dinner, Buffy went into the living room and settled down on the couch. She was already pushing thoughts of the billboard out of her mind, wanting instead to spend a nice, relaxing evening in front of the television without having to deal with memories of her ex.
With her plate settled in her lap, Buffy picked up the remote control from the arm of the couch and turned on the television. The immediate blast of sound told her Dawn had been the last one to watch it, and as she quickly moved to turn down the volume, she realized Dawn had also left it on some music channel.
A music channel that was currently playing one of Spike's videos.
"Figures this would be the time they decide to play their one music video of the day," Buffy grumbled, quickly switching the channel before she had the chance to get sucked in by his voice, his face.
She didn't quite make it. The next channel she reached was interviewing the band, and the sound of Spike's laugh made her stop abruptly. How she'd missed that sound…
The remote control fell from her hand almost unbidden, and she sat her plate on the coffee table before leaning forward, unable to stop herself from giving in to her desire to watch him, despite the pain it caused.
He looked good, she realized with a pang in her heart. Really good. His hair was a little longer with more curl to it, and while it was still bleached, it was not the stark white it had been when they were together. Most of what she'd seen of him recently was still photographs, and according to the image at the bottom of the screen, this program was being filmed live.
She was watching Spike, in that moment. It seemed more real than the magazines or even the billboard. It wasn't just the specter of his face haunting her, it was him. His movements, his voice, his smile. It's what he would look like now, if he were sitting beside her.
Buffy knew she should change the channel. Watching him like this was something akin to torture, and there was no reason for her to do this to herself.
Especially when the interviewer's next question pierced through her fogged brain.
"So, Spike, you and Eve Hart are getting pretty serious, huh?"
Spike smiled, a grin Buffy had once thought was reserved for only when he was talking about her, and her heart broke a little more. "Yeah, it's going well," Spike replied. "We've been together about six months now. Eve's out of the country filming a movie right now, but we've been talking every day, and I recently got to spend a little time over there with her."
"There's been quite a few rumors of an upcoming aisle walk," the interviewer replied, pointing out a fact Buffy was all too keenly aware of. It was the perfect tabloid fodder, and the question that assailed her any place where magazines where sold. "Any truth to that?"
Spike cleared his throat. "If there's a wedding coming up, it's a surprise to me, too," he replied. "Honestly, we haven't even talked about it. Seems like if you spend any time with someone at all, the media's marrying you off the next day."
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back against the pillows. She wanted Spike to be happy, to find someone to spend the rest of his life with, but for some reason she couldn't quite name, she didn't want that person to be Eve Hart. For one thing, the woman's highly-publicized divorce from her ex-husband, fellow actor Lindsey McDonald, had not painted a pretty picture of her at all. Not that Buffy believed everything she read in the tabloids, but with that many people saying Eve was a horrible bitch, odds were there was some truth to it.
The show's host announced a commercial break, but a live performance from the Dingoes when they came back. Buffy knew this was her chance to escape. With Spike off the screen, the hypnotic pull of his eyes was gone, and she could change the channel, find something less painful to watch. The Discovery Channel was supposed to be running something on monkeys…
While she was trying to will herself to go towards the monkeys, the commercial break ended. The show's host announced the song as something off the new album, declaring it the first time anyone would hear it. Buffy knew she should really go now. It was bad enough listening to him talk, but hearing him sing—watching him perform? Why was she doing this to herself?
She lowered the remote to the television, telling herself to push the damn button already, but her eyes fixated on the screen as the band began to play and Spike approached the microphone. She realized with a lump already forming in her throat that she hadn't seen him perform anything live since that last day in the recording studio with Mona.
Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again and looked directly into the camera, making Buffy gasp. His eyes were still so blue…
"I remember what you told me
Last I said I wanted you.
A crooked smile played
Across your lips and you said,
'Damn all you men are just the same.'"
It took only that first verse to let Buffy know he was singing about her, and her hands started to tremble. She remembered the moment he was talking about, and while his implications there seemed a little skewed in her opinion, it was enough their moment to rule out him singing about anyone else. Her breath caught as she leaned forward more, wanting this glimpse into what Spike felt about her now that they hadn't seen each other in three years. Had he been able to forgive her for the pain she knew she'd caused him?
"It's been a long time, that's granted,
But I bet you haven't changed.
It's been a longtime since I was okay.
"In the year we spent together,
I fell in love with your honesty.
You never told me that
Your sweet words were never meant to apply to me."
Buffy's heart sank. Apparently, forgiveness was not on the menu. Was that truly what Spike thought about her now? Did he think she'd merely been playing him, telling him things she'd never really meant? More than anything else, Buffy didn't want that to be true. She wanted him to know, even with the way things had ended, she'd loved him. Everything she'd ever said to him was meant for him and him alone.
His eyes held a look of pain as he sang, and Buffy couldn't know him as well as she did and not see it. Spike always poured all of himself into his songs, and now was no exception. She could see every play of emotion across his face, telling her without a doubt that he meant what he sang.
"It's been a long time, that's granted,
But I bet you haven't changed.
It's been a longtime, since I was okay.
"You're so perfect,
Put together.
Love, your beauty is faultless.
But what I thought was
Done for my eyes
Was really building a fortress.
"It's been a long time, that's granted,
But I bet you're just the same.
It's been along time since I was okay."
As the song came to a close, Buffy couldn't stop the tears running down her cheeks. The last verse cut her the deepest, the bitterness in his words and voice giving her a clear picture for the first time of what she'd really done to him. She hadn't meant to make him hate her, to make him think she could do anything but love him.
The full weight of his words hit her hard, and Buffy finally turned off the television before running out of the room and to her bed, dinner long forgotten.
By the time her alarm went off the next morning, Buffy had already been awake for a while—if she'd ever really gone to sleep at all. It had been a restless night, her thoughts racing too quickly to allow her any real rest. She'd heard Dawn come in at some point, but Buffy hadn't gotten up even then, far from in the mood to see anyone, even her sister.
Eventually, she'd come to the conclusion maybe it was better if Spike hated her. She had, after all, left in order to keep her from hurting his career. Perhaps if he saw her as the villain of the piece, it would make it easier for him to move on, like he obviously had with Eve.
It hurt her more than she ever would've even imagined to think of Spike holding so much anger towards her, but Buffy hadn't done this for herself. Leaving Spike had been the last thing she'd ever truly wanted to do, even with the problems in their relationship at the time, but she sacrificed her own feelings for what would be better for him. She had to keep doing that, had to deal with the pain of his animosity now.
Spike's career had prospered since she had left him, no tabloid spins turning their relationship into something sordid and incestuous keeping him from being launched into superstardom. So the break-up had left him bitter towards her—she'd expected as much. Even with the hurt she'd caused him, he seemed to be doing fine these days. His career had taken off with no signs of slowing down, and he had a movie star girlfriend. Writing a song or two about her notwithstanding, Buffy doubted Spike spent too much time these days mourning the loss of their relationship.
She turned off her alarm and sat up, sighing heavily as she did. She was half tempted to call in sick, though she knew she had a couple of meetings that day with students she'd really wanted to talk to. Besides, she didn't think, "I saw my ex-boyfriend on television last night, and now I want to crawl in a hole and die" was an acceptable reason for skipping work. She needed to suck it up and act like the independent woman she was.
With another sigh, she set herself forward to attempt to do just that.
The song in this chapter is "Long Time," written and sung by some James Marsters guy. Maybe you've heard of him… Anyway, I changed a couple of words, so if you're familiar with the lyrics, I did it on purpose, so you don't have to tell me I'm wrong.