Buffy's head shot up from her desk, and she glanced around the room wildly for a moment before she realized where she was—and who had woken her up. She blushed. "Oh, hi, Robin. Um…sorry about that. I didn't like, fall asleep and miss an appointment, did I?"
"No, you're fine. I was just a little worried about you. I've never seen you fall asleep at your desk before," Robin replied.
Buffy wiped at her mouth, grateful to find it drool-free. "I usually don't. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, I guess."
"Are you feeling okay?" Robin asked with a frown. "Do you need to go home early?"
"No, I'm fine. Really. I think the impromptu nap took care of any extra sleepiness," Buffy replied, putting on her best smile in an effort to reassure Robin. After all, what was she supposed to tell him—that she was so tired because she'd stayed up until the wee hours in the morning three times in four days talking to her ex-boyfriend? Yeah, that was exactly the sort of thing the new guy would love to hear.
"Do you want me to go get you some caffeine from the teachers' lounge?"
Caffeine definitely sounded of the good. "Diet?"
Robin smiled. "You got it."
"Thanks."
As soon as Robin left her office, Buffy let her head hit her desk again, though this time, her eyes stayed open. Whatever this was going on with Spike was insane, and she knew she should stop it. She shouldn't be answering the phone every time he called, especially at such an uncivilized hour, and she certainly shouldn't be having conversations with him that seemed to be developing an ever-increasing intimacy.
She was beyond tired, the hours of sleep she'd gotten over the past few days probably small enough to count on her fingers. Now she was falling asleep at work, and while Robin was enough of a friend to be lenient, getting caught sleeping on the job by your boss was never a good thing.
Even more than that, however, was the strain this was starting to place on her emotions. No matter how she wanted things to be or even how she told people they were, the fact remained that she still had feelings for Spike. She'd loved him more than she knew she'd ever be able to love anyone else again, and she still hadn't been able to fully come to terms with losing him. She'd put her entire focus on school, then her job when their relationship had ended, needing a constant distraction from the pain she'd felt ever since Spike had left with her heart. Now, talking to him every night, it made the wounds open all over again and caused her to ache for what could have been.
For the last two phone calls, they'd kept their topics of conversation relatively safe, catching up on what they'd missed in each other's lives instead of focusing on the break-up and its aftermath. Yet Buffy knew the longer they talked, the more likely it was that conversation would start again—and then what would they say? Would it pry open old wounds? Would it create new ones?
The whole situation had the makings of a mess, and Buffy knew she shouldn't be carrying on like this. Being on speaking terms with Spike again was good she knew—especially since they did still share family—but even if they both called this "innocent" it was too close to a line for her to allow it to continue. She knew Robin wouldn't like the idea of her in bed late at night talking to her ex, and she doubted Eve would be thrilled with the prospect either—though she couldn't seem to muster up a lot of caring about that last part.
Buffy knew she needed to tell Spike to stop calling her like he had been. They could be on speaking terms again, sure, but not like this. Not in a way that would make her feel like this. She'd had a hard enough time moving on when she hadn't been talking to him on a daily basis, and now she was setting herself up for the opportunity to make all of her pain a little worse. So not what she needed.
Yet Buffy also knew there was no way in hell she was going to be able to tell Spike not to call anymore. She was weak, she was pathetic, and she really wanted to keep talking to him.
Maybe it would be okay as long as she limited it to phone contact only. Was there really that much harm in simple telephone conversations? Perhaps she could remind Spike that most of the world didn't keep musician's hours and get him to call her at more reasonable times. Then, she wouldn't be falling asleep at work anymore, but they could still talk. That was fair, wasn't it?
With a groan, Buffy let her forehead hit the hard wood of her desk yet again. She didn't need to worry about her heart getting involved in these nightly chats of theirs—it already was.
She heard Robin coming back down the hall and sat up with a smile, smoothing down her hair and resolving not to think about Spike anymore.
Buffy wondered how long she could pretend such a resolution had any chance of succeeding.
"You're leaving again?"
Spike looked at Eve as she stood up from the couch and put her hands firmly on her hips. He'd been expecting this, really, but that didn't make him want to deal with it any more. "Sorry, pet. I have an early morning radio interview, and my place is a lot closer to the station than yours."
"I know that's an excuse, Spike," Eve snapped. "Just like the ones you've had every night this week. Who's bed are you leaving mine for, huh?"
Spike jumped up from the couch and held his hands out in front of him. "Whoa, Evie, I'm not cheating on you. I've just been real busy with promoting the new album, is all."
"I don't believe you. It's her, isn't it? It's Buffy."
"What? No! Why would you think that?" Spike replied, hoping his guilt wasn't coming through in his denial. Granted, he hadn't actually done anything with Buffy, but he knew Eve wouldn't see it that way if she knew about the phone calls—and the truth about how they'd had more than a little to do with why he'd wanted to be alone every night. He'd known from the first one that Eve would see it as a betrayal, and yet he'd kept calling Buffy, sharing with her more of what he'd felt and been through over the past few years than he ever had with his current girlfriend.
"Why would I think that? Gee, maybe because your incredibly weird behavior started right after your father's party—where you saw Buffy again for the first time in three years? Am I supposed to believe that's a coincidence?"
"It is, pet," Spike insisted, reaching out to take Eve's hands off her hips and hold them in his. "The new album hits store shelves next week, and I've been caught up in a publicity whirlwind. It's worn me out."
Eve pouted, Spike's soft tone and touch staving off her anger but not placating her completely. "I've missed you, sweetie. I barely saw you at all when I was filming, and now that I'm back, it's like we're still on opposite sides of the world."
"I know, but…"
Eve moved closer, pressing her body against his. "Stay with me tonight. You can still make your interview in the morning. Please, Spike?"
Spike looked down into Eve's eyes while he tried to make his decision. He knew if he left now to go home and call Buffy, he'd be betraying Eve—so why did it feel like Buffy was the one he'd truly be betraying? He and Buffy were over, and even if she'd given him a reason for why she'd done it, she'd still dumped him three years before. He'd had to move on, had to make himself live without her so he could put the pieces of his life back together once she'd shattered his heart. Eve had been the first woman since Buffy to make him feel anything, and even if he knew it could never truly be what he felt for Buffy, it was something. On the other hand, simply talking to Buffy every night would never be enough, and yet he knew he couldn't hand her his heart all over again. How could he trust her enough to let her back in when she'd been able to crush him like that because of fear of what other people would think? How could he have not meant more to her than that?
"Yeah, I'll stay," Spike said, smiling at Eve even through the oddly heartsick sensation he was suddenly feeling.
"I knew I could make you see reason," Eve replied, winking before she led Spike off to the bedroom.
Buffy lay awake, her eyes wide open even as she told herself over and over again she should be asleep. It was three in the morning, and she had to be up for work in a little over two hours. As exhausted as she was, why was she still awake?
Spike hadn't called, and no matter how she tried not to care, she did. Granted, he hadn't exactly told her he was going to call her every night—hadn't even said he'd talk to her soon when he'd hung up last—but he had for two nights in a row now, and she'd thought maybe it had become established that he would.
Only that was a silly thing to think, Buffy knew. Spike had his own life, and he couldn't exactly be expected to spend every night talking on the phone to his ex. He had friends, a job that sometimes required him to stay out very late, and a girlfriend he was bound to want to spend time with.
Her last thought made Buffy wince. Was that why Spike hadn't called? Was he with Eve? Had he spent the night with her?
The thought of Spike touching another woman right then made tears rise unbidden to Buffy's eyes. She knew she had no right to be jealous, but god, she was. There had been a time when she'd believed with all of her heart that Spike's touch would be reserved for her and her alone for the rest of their lives, yet in the end, that hadn't been the case at all. His touch was for Eve now, and all Buffy could have was his voice.
And it seemed tonight she couldn't even have that much.
The phone never rang, yet Buffy found herself getting no sleep that night.
Spike wasn't sure what worried him more—the fact that what had just happened to him—for the first time in his entire life—was very near the top of the list of the most horrifying things that could happen to a man, or the way when Eve had come to the conclusion nothing she could do was going to change things, she'd jumped out of bed and started pacing angrily.
"I'm sorry, pet. I…I told you I was tired," Spike said softly, trying to offer an explanation even as the growing sick feeling inside of him told him this had nothing to do with being tired. As Buffy had once demonstrated, he didn't exactly need to be fully awake for that…
"Don't try to placate me!" Eve snapped, stopping her pacing to whirl around and turn her angered glare on him. "I know why you can't get it up, Spike, and it has nothing to do with being tired."
Spike ran his hand through his hair. "Look, baby, this promotion thing, it really does have me drained…"
"Bullshit!" Eve yelled. "This is about her, and we both know it, Spike."
She was right. Spike knew she was right. If Buffy had been in the room right then, he had no doubt he'd have no problem getting anything up. He hated it, but it was still the truth.
"No, it's not about her. I want you, pet. Really, I do."
"If you wanted me, Spike, you'd be inside me right now," Eve replied. "I remember when we first met, listening to the way you talked about her—like she was the most wonderful woman ever to grace the earth. God, what does it take to make you look at me the way I saw you looking at her at that party? Because I saw, Spike. Maybe you didn't think I was looking, but I was."
"Eve, I wasn't…"
"Don't lie to me! Just tell me what I have to do?"
"Eve…" Spike tried again.
"You want me to pretend to be your sister? Would that fuel whatever sick little fantasies you need to get off?" Eve sneered.
Spike reeled back, Eve's words hitting him almost like a physical blow. He got out of the bed, angrily pulling his clothes back on, and refusing to look at her.
Suddenly, Eve's hand was on his shoulder. "Spike, wait. I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it. I…I was just upset. Please don't go like this."
Spike still didn't turn towards her. "I think I need to right now."
"I sorry, sweetie. I really didn't mean it. I love you, Spike."
He sighed heavily. "Look, Eve, this night is shot. I'm going home, and I'll call you later."
"I'm sorry," Eve said again, her eyes brimming with tears.
"I know. Good night."
Spike walked out of Eve's bedroom and headed straight for the front door.
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