Chapter 16: ‘Wake Up To Breakup’
Buffy woke with a start and bolted up in the bed. She’d had a nightmare, not her first certainly, but it must have been a a horrific one. Her heart was thumping in her chest, only slow and heavy, but pounding so loudly that she could hear it in her own ears. An unfamiliar clock, above an unfamiliar faux fireplace mantel winked at her; 3:00 AM!
“Where, where am I?” she gasped, terrified.
“With me, luv,” came a British accent in the dark, “remember?”
Then she did begin to remember. Two warm arms wrapped around her, not Angel’s, that was for sure. This was ‘his,’ William’s arms; smaller, but somehow stronger arms that embraced her.
“What is it, Princess,” he cooed, concerned, “bad dream?” Buffy nodded against his chest as she clung to him like a frightened child.
“My daddy left again,” she whispered just like a little girl, “Hank, my daddy, he left mama and me, again.”
Spike clasped his vulnerable little bundle to him, as closely as he could.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head, “you’re safe, ‘I’m’ certainly not leaving.”
He felt her timid smile against his neck and truly hated himself for the harsh words he had spoken before. The threats, the tear inducing curses that had finally broken her and sent her back to their shared bed.
‘Jesus, Spike, you’re a real bastard,’ William taunted him. ‘I can’t lose her, not now,’ Spike hissed back at his softer, gentler alter ego.
Buffy snuggled into him, her warm breasts against his chest; her naked slim hips against his.
“I like it when you’re nice, William,” she murmered in his neck, “you remind me of my Will that I knew years ago.”
“Only for you, Princess,” he mumbled against her forehead, “I’m only that Will for you. You bring out the out the ‘ better side’ in me, Buffy, always have.”
She nuzzled into him even further, “Will,” she murmered, “will you sing to me. I know you like to sing and you have such a nice voice. Will you sing me back to sleep, please?”
Buffy sounded like a small child, even to herself and she hoped he wouldn’t chide her for it. He didn’t.
“Kay,” he answered, “I’ll sing for you Buffy. What do you want me to sing?”
With her eyes still half closed, she began to rock against him, “don’t care,” she giggled softly, “just sing something pretty, like you.”
(okay, I’m going out on a limb here, with a nod to the ‘Foo Fighters’ and a hey ya to David Groh)
Spike stroked Buffy’s head tenderly and began to sing so softly that it almost came out as a whisper:
‘Hello, I’ve waited here for you, Everlong
Tonight, I throw myself into and out of my head
Out of her head she sang’
‘Come down and waste away with me, down with me
Slow how, you wanted it to be, I’m over my head, out
Of her head she said’
‘And I wonder, when I sing along with you…if everything
could feel this real forever, if anything could ever be
this good again’
Breathe out, so I can breathe you in, hold you in; and
How I wanted to begin, out of my
Head, out of her head she sang
‘The only thing I’ll ever ask of you
You’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when,
She sang’
He noticed by the third stanza that Buffy had dropped off to sleep, her little soft kitten sounds echoed about them in the darkened room.
However, he couldn’t help himself, he just had to continue the song, whispering it into her ear as she slept. He only hoped that she somehow heard it in her sleep and knew how true those lyrics were, to him anyway.
Spike heard the music that came from the alarm clock on the end table next to the bed he shared with Buffy.
“Oh bloody hell,” he muttered, ‘Easy Listening music.” The alarm radio face show ‘7:00 AM’ and he realized that she would have to go soon. Her house staff would be back and she couldn’t possibly show up in that wrinkled little sundress in front of them.
“Fuck!” he groaned as he glanced over at her, his Buffy, with her honey blond hair fanned out on the pillow.
“She’s even beautiful in the morning,” he sighed, “all shagged out and tired from arguing.”
He snorted and shook his head, “you are truly fucked now, Spike Giles,” he told himself, “you’ll never, ever be able to let her go.”
Buffy woke up to William’s kisses on her forehead, her nose and finally her mouth
“I’m all icky, Will,” she whimpered, still half asleep. “I need to wash my teeth and my…oh my God!” she noticed the time on the clock. “I’ve got to go, William!” she cried frantically as she hopped out of bed and began to gather up her clothing.
“Stay,” she heard his whispered plea.
“Can’t,” she replied, almost reluctantly, “gotta’ get home. Maggie and Jenny are due back before 9:00 and I can’t sashay into my house like this.”
She slipped the little red sundress on quickly and sat to pull on her sandals.
“I have to go, Will,” she stated as she grabbed her purse. “It’s after 7:30 AM and by the time I get home to Sunnydale it’ll be almost 8:30. I can’t stay another minute.”
Buffy tried not to look at ‘him’ as she scurried about to collect her things. She had to get home. Although her house staff seemed to prefer her to Angel, she was sure she’d get more then a dissaproving look if she meandered into the Traver’s household wrinkled, beat out and looking totally ‘shagged’ this early in the morning.
When she’d gathered up her belongings, Buffy glanced back at William, still in bed, a look of abandonment on his face. “I have to go, William,” she said, “I’ve no choice, really I don’t.”
Spike got up from the bed, totally naked, like before and strode up to his lover.
“I know you have to go,” he murmered, “but I don’t have to like it.”
He kissed her forehead, again and drew her to him, “I want you to hear something, Buffy.” She looked up at him, wide eyed and attentive.
“You need to answer me, and make sure you understand where I’m coming from,” he told her. “First off,” he began, “let’s get it straight, I’m in control here, right?”
Yes, she nodded, wordlessly.
“Second, you are cutting those bloody jerks loose, immediately” Another nod from her. “Third, this thing between us,” he said firmly, “it’s far from over, understood?”
Buffy stared him straight in the eye, “yes, William, I understand.”
Before she could pull away, Spike buried his face into her soft hair, “see me tonight, Buffy.”
Although he worded it like a command, it came out like a plea and Buffy quickly responded with a shake of her head.
“I can’t, William, please don’t ask. If you want me to ‘cut them loose’ as you put it, I’ll have to do it tonight or tomorrow. Angel comes back Saturday night, remember?”
He nodded, he remembered all too well. She was right, as much as he wanted to see her, right away, she did have to figure out how to get rid of those morons and before Peaches blew back into town.
“Okay, Princess,” he sighed, “you’re right. You need some rest and time alone to put your house in order.”
Spike ‘was’ pretty sure Buffy was already making plans to kiss off all of the three amigos but he still felt let down about not seeing her that night.
Then a jealous thought struck him, ‘she better not be kissing any of those fucks!’
“You know,” he said, pondering something, “you could tell the ‘boys’ that you’re afraid that Angel is on to you. Wouldn’t be too far from the truth, luv.”
As he brushed her hair back from her face, he thought he saw a sadness in her eyes.
“Yeah,” she answered, “I’ll think about that.
“And Buffy,” he called out as she opened the door, “don’t be getting any ideas about a goodbye shag with any of them. Not even a kiss goodbye. Got it, cos’ I’m going to ask, know that.”
She didn’t even turn around to look at him, just nodded that she understood and whispered “Bye, Will,” and she was gone from the room.
Spike never felt more miserably alone in his entire life then at that moment.
Buffy sped along the highway that led back into Sunnydale. If she kept up her current speed, didn’t get stopped by a cop or highway patrolman, she’d be okay. With a a glance at the car radio clock, she saw that she had more then enough time to get home, strip off her clothes, start a load of laundry and jump in the shower before Maggie and Jenny got back from their day off.
“I can do this,” she chanted as she pulled into her driveway at precisely 8:30 AM. Without even locking her Camaro doors or checking the messages on her answering machine, she tore off her clothes and dumped them into the washing machine.
She ran, literally, up the stairs into her bathroom and turned on the shower.
After a quick shower, she toweled off and heard the voice of Maggie call out, “Mrs. We’re home.” With a sigh of relief, Buffy pulled on a silky robe and went down to greet her house servants.
After she welcomed home Maggie and Jenny, Buffy staggered upstairs to her room. She’d told both of the staff that she had the beginnings of a migraine and they were more then sympathetic.
“You need to get upstairs and into bed, Mrs.” Maggie advised, “we’ll get everything in order down here.”
Buffy lay in her marital bed, alone and feeling more then guilty for the last few hours she had spent with Will. Her private message machine blinked with three messages and she hit the listen button with reluctance.
“Hi, babe, it’s me,” boomed her husband’s voice on the tape. “I guess you’re still out with Willow and her snuggle buddy, Tara, huh? I won’t be home until Monday morning, now. Something’s come up. Catch ya’ later, luv ya, Ang.”
Frantically, Buffy listened for the day and time of her husband’s message: Thursday…8:30 PM.
“Something’s come up my ass,” she snorted, “I’ll just bet ‘something’s’ come up.”
Actually, she was relieved, Angel had called her last night, fairly early and she was more then covered. Even if he ever brought it up to Willow or Tara, which Buffy doubted, she was safe. No doubt the two women would cover for her. The only thing was, soon she’d have to explain herself to the two girlfriends, especiaclly if she continued to use them to cover her indiscretions.
“Make that indiscretion,” she corrected herself. After the edict by ‘William’ there would be no more plural in of the illicit affairs. Which, led her to ponder…how was she going to break off the ‘situations’ with Connor, Xander and Riley?
Actually, Riley was going to be the easiest, Buffy had no doubt about that. He was the same man/boy she’d known in High School; arrogant, egotistical and more then anything, afraid to rattle the status quo. With his wedding to Cordelia coming up soon, he would probably be relieved to cut any ties with Buffy, or anyone else for that matter. A simple cell phone call to him, and he’d be history; she was sure of that.
“Riley Finn,” she requested, all business like to the nameless secretary that answered his phone.
“Finn,” came the deep voice on the other end. “Hi, Riley, it’s Buffy Travers,” she stated lightly.
“Hey, Buff,” he sounded happy yet somewhat apprehensive. “Where you been, I thought maybe we could, you know, hook up again?”
“Oh, shit,” she hissed silently, then answered out loud, “uhm, I’ve been around.”
She tried hard to sound breezy and nonchalant, but there was an uncomfortable silence on the phone between them. Finally, she sighed and said, “Riley, we need to talk.”
If he was concerned, he did his best not to express it, but Buffy was sure she heard him mumble something like ‘shit’ or something like it.
“I mean,” she continued quickly, “I think we better call it quits, permantly, don’t you?”
If relief could be recorded and transferred by AT & T, then Riley would be imbedded in telephone history, right there with ‘Mr. Watson.’
“Wow,” he exclaimed somewhat stunned, “I mean, just like that?”
Buffy stifled a giggle, “just like that, Riley. I mean, you ‘are’ going to marry Cordy soon and I don’t think she’d like what we’ve been up to one bit, do you?”
Well, he couldn’t help but agree with that, so with mutual ‘take cares’ to each other; that was that.
Buffy clicked the off button on her cell phone and sighed in relief herself.
“That was easier then I thought,” she told herself. “I just hope Connor and Xander are that simple.”
Connor was supposed to come by on Saturday, their regular meeting time to ‘swim’ and spend quality time with each other. When he showed up, he was surprised to find the Traver’s staff apparently back from their Holidays, merely out on errands. He appeared even more surprised to be led to Buffy’s front living room to ‘talk.’
“Connor,” she began carefully as she handed him a Coke in the can, “I think we need to get some things cleared up.”
After Buffy had begun the ‘swan song’ her explainations became increasingly easier. Angel and her, were married and committed to each other. Connor and her, had been a foolish indiscretion that could ruin not only her own marriage but his relationship with Dawn. That is if anyone found out about it; which ‘could’ happen if they kept it going. This really got the young man’s attention.
“Okay, Buffy,” he responded, seemingly more concerned about getting caught then upset over their affair’s end.
“Yeah, I get it, Buffy,” he nodded slowly, not much expression in his voice or eyes.
Buffy patted Connor’s boney shoulder, regretting that she’d even brought him into this mess. Connor was a good kid, and this whole thing was her fault, she couldn’t fool herself.
“Oh, and Connor,” she continued, “I think you better call me Mrs. Travers, again, from now on. Especially in front of Angel, Dawn and pretty much everyone else.”
Apparently, the young man understood because he gave her a nod of agreement and stood up to leave. Young Connor recognized a dismissal when he saw one.
“Oh,” he turned at the door, “thanks, Mrs. Travers,” he smiled softly, “you know, for everything.”
If he was sad, he didn’t show it; he left the Travers household whistling some song Buffy had never heard before.
With Angel still out of town, Buffy had an extra day to plan for the ‘death blow’ of the Bander (yes I had to throw that moniker in here) affair. Xander was certainly going to be the hardest to deal with, she had no doubt about that either.
He was certainly going to be the most painful break, for her at least. Even though she had gone into these ‘affairs’ with a thirst for vengence on Angel, Cordy and anyone else involved; she still ‘knew’ that this was all wrong. Just wrong on so many levels and not really her, not the real Buffy Summers she had been raised as. Not anymore, anyway.
She knew Xander, if no one else involved, truly had feelings for her and breaking it off with him was not going to be pretty. As bad as she had felt about Connor, Buffy was even sorrier she ever got poor, sweet Xander involved in any of this God awful mess.
Buffy had called Xander at his construction company on Saturday morning. She used discretion, as always, and called him on his cell phone, however. He agreed, a little too easily for her taste, to come to her house on Sunday morning for brunch. On Saturday, before Maggie and Jenny left for their errands, Buffy informed them that she wouldn’t need them until Monday morning and encouraged them to go visit their families; not to bother to return home until Sunday night at the earliest.
If the two women suspected anything out of the ordinary, they said nothing; just accepted their employer’s generosity, once again, with thanks. Saturday night, alone in her and Angel’s bed, Buffy lay for hours and just thought about the next day. Xander would have to be handled gently; Buffy didn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily. The problem was, she knew no matter how tenderly she dealt with this break up, it wasn’t going to be painless for either of them. Even though she never loved Xander in that way, she did care for him deeply; just never how ‘he’ wanted her to.
At just past midnight, still unable to sleep, Buffy could swear she heard the sound of a Harley pass by her house. The engine seem to idle nearby.
“A Harley?” she asked out loud to the air, perplexed, “In this neighborhood?’
Sunday morning dawned clear and sunny, but even the lovely sunrise did little to brighten Buffy’s mood. She had lay awake, most of the night, trying to figure out just how to let Xander down in the most painless way possible. The problem was, she’d concluded, there was ‘no way’ to make it painless.
If Xander had been a stranger even, or even a mere acquaintance, it wouldn’t have mattered how or why she broke it off; but he was Xander for God’s sake. Her like second bestest friend in the entire world, for years? What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking, she also concluded by the time Xander rang the front door bell.
When Buffy opened the front door, it was apparent that Xander knew that the house staff was gone. He pushed through the door and swooped her off of her feet in a strong embrace.
Pulling her into a kiss, he groaned, “God Buff, I’ve missed you so much.”
Buffy felt physically ill. If she felt remorse before this, now she felt like a guilt ridden axe murderer.
“Xander,” she gasped, the air knocked out of her lungs, momentarily, by his bear hug, “put me down. We have to talk.”
She half pulled, half pushed away from him in the process. Xander looked confused, but he set her down gently on the couch in the living room; the same one their whole ‘affair’ had started on.
“What’s wrong, Buffy?” he stammered, “something’s wrong. What is it?”
That classic Xander Harris ‘puppy dog look’ in his eyes damn near did her in right there.
Buffy put her hand up in front of him, just to stop him from asking anymore questions.
“Don’t,” she ordered gently, not able to look him in the eye. “Just sit and listen, just for a sec, kay?”
When she finally got the strength to look at him she saw the concern and insecurity in his chocolate brown eyes.
“Xander,” she began, cautiously, “uhm, something’s happened. At least, I think it has,” she finished, daring another glance at him.
“Like what, Buffy?” he asked quietly.
“Well,” she began again, “I, uhm, have reason to think that Angel may suspect me of being involved with someone, you know?”
Xander looked terrified, for a moment, then he sat up straight and gave Buffy an ‘in charge’ kind of brave look. This ‘new man’ expression on Xander Harris would have been comical, if it hadn’t been to damn pathetic.
“Well,” he said slowly, “maybe that’s a good thing, Buffy. Yeah. It is a good thing,” he shot her a studly kind of grin. “It might make things easier, you know? You can tell him you want out of the marriage, it’s obvious that you’re not happy. We, you and me, can have a fresh start together! In LA, maybe!”
He looked at her, searching her face for some sign of encouragement or hope. Buffy stared back at him, dully, hoping that her dismal expression showed him that there was ‘no’ hope.
“Angel isn’t going to ‘go for it’ Xander,” she whipsered sadly, looking away from him.
“In fact, he’ll never allow me to leave. Actually,” she stared straight into those black, deep eyes, “he’ll see us both dead first. I mean before he ever lets me…..”
Xander jumped up from the couch and began to pace about like a nervous cat.
“Bullshit!” he cried, “we can go away together, Buffy. We can start up fresh, like I said before. Angel won’t find us and we can be you know, together.”
For all of his macho posturing, Xander’s last rambling rather petered out, pathetically and ended on a weak note.
“It’s over, Xander,” she stated in a quiet but firm tone.
Xander came back to the couch and just flopped down on it, next to her, totally defeated.
“So,” he muttered, “you won’t even try? Go to Angel, tell him that…..” his sentenced died off when he saw her shake her head slowly, “no,” she stated simply.
“I won’t go to him and hand him any ammunition against you, me or my marriage. Xander,” she turned to him, real tears trickled down her cheeks, “no matter what happened between you and me, I still love Angel and I do want to work out my marriage.”
He started to say something, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips, “you need to move on, Xand. Find someone who deserves you, it’s certainly not me.”
Something deep inside Buffy hoped that Willow might change her mind and return to Xander, though she doubted it.
“I better go, huh?” he asked in a shakey voice. Buffy could only nod, yes in response.
“Okay, Buffy,” he mumbled and stood up to leave. She braved a look into his eyes and saw some moisture there, “I’m sorry, Xander,” she whispered, “I’m truly sorry for everything.”
Xander nodded slowly, “I know Buffy, I just wish that we could maybe go someplace else, you and me, and you know, like I said.”
He sadly shook his head, “guess not, huh?” Buffy couldn’t look at him, but she shook her head to tell him ‘no’ once and for all. Before she could look at him, he’d reached the front door, “bye Buffy,” he choked out in a soft sob.
“Bye Xand,” she called back, her eyes closed.
When the door closed behind him, she allowed herself to curse William out loud, “damn you Spike!” she hissed, using his loathsome nickname, “right now I truly despise you!”
A/N: Okay, so I wrote Xander a bit sympathetically; I like Xander, just not with Buffy. Spike and Buffy belong together, really, but of course, you all must think that too, you’re here, right! Thanks, Spuf
S
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