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Spike blinked. She was terrified of him? He wasn't sure if he should take some odd comfort out of that or feel an inch tall for it. "How do I—?"

"I shouldn't have said anything," she said and stood quickly, starting to
pack up.

"No, no Buffy," he shook his head and stood, grabbing her arms and
making her look at him. "Tell me why I terrify you."

She wriggled free of his grasp and gestured between the two of them.
"This. Right here." She then gestured to the picnic. "All of it."

"You have to do better than that. Spell it out Buffy."

"You KNOW why. You just want me to say it."

"Because I think you NEED to say it."

"No, I don't," she told him and started to pack up the basket. "We've been
gone long enough and we have work to do—"

"God dammit Buffy! Stop hiding from me!"

"Then stop pushing me!" she shouted back.

"You hide behind this wall . . . is it working for you? Does it make you
happy?"

"It keeps me safe," she told him, facing him now.

"You still think I'd hurt you."

"Yes!"

"Why Buffy? Why do you think that I would? You're the only one that can
hurt me here, you know. You haven't been carrying a bloody torch like I
have all these years."

"Because you make me feel!" She burst out, frustrated, eyes welling with
tears.

He fell silent, giving her time.

"You make me feel things that I don't to feel, that I'm afraid to feel," she wiped at her eyes furiously. "It's scary and what if you aren't there to catch me? What if I fall and then you grow tired of me? Then what'll happen to me? I don't want to end up like that."

Spike moved forward slowly, gently wiped her tears away and pulled her
into the safety of his arms. "Let it out Buffy," he whispered gently. "Tell
me. End up like what?"

"My mother," she whimpered. She pushed at him suddenly. "See you just .
. . do that . . . and I cave. I don't want to cave like that!"

"I just want to comfort you because I love you!" he exclaimed in
frustration.

"Well stop!"

"I can't. Don't you think I've tried? I can't get you out of my system, you're
all around me, in me . . . surrounding me. I can't just stop."

He wasn't sure what made her stop fighting him for a minute; maybe she
took pity on him. Maybe she saw how wounded he was by her refusal that
she somehow found it in her closed off heart to open up to him. Or, maybe
it was the feelings she was having for him that made her ultimately do it.
Whatever the reason, he wasn't going to stop her. Instead, he listened.
Something he realized that he never really did with Buffy before. He never
just stopped and really listened. He spent all his time trying to figure out
how to get her attention and weasel his way in, that he never really heard
her. If he had, he would have seen sooner the struggles inside her. It wasn't
until he'd used the word ‘love' in her presence that he'd seen her fight so
hard, struggle so much and seen her vulnerable. Invincible Buffy Summers
was VULNERABLE. And it terrified her.

"My mom, not just my mom. My parents. Not exactly Ward and June
Cleaver. Well, all depends on how close you look. From the outside, it
appeared that way.

See my mom was totally over the moon for my dad. They met in college.
My dad was studying to be a lawyer and my mom was in art. Her dream
was to open a gallery and display her work and other artists. She had all
these visions and plans and together they seemed invincible. Straight out
of college, my dad was hired by a law firm and my mom was learning the
ropes in a nearby gallery. They had the beautiful house, the white picket
fence and then they had me.

It didn't take long for my dad to make partner and my mom to be co-
owner of the gallery. She was showcasing her own stuff, among others, and
she was, for all intents and purposes, a success.

Then, things started to get bad around the time my mom became pregnant
with Dawn. My dad was staying later at the office, he was working ungodly
hours and even working on weekends. It didn't take long for my mother to
figure out that he was having an affair. By that time, I was thirteen.

She was in a tremendous rage and would alternate between screaming and
crying. I remember her taking off one day to the beach after dropping
Dawnie off at daycare. I came home from school on the bus and there was a
message on the answering machine that she was at the beach and she was
planning on ending it all."

Spike gasped and moved to Buffy to hold her. She held up her hands. "Just
let me finish."

"Okay, pet."

"Now, I was thirteen, I wasn't stupid. I knew what she meant. She was
going to kill herself. I called my father at work and told him what was going
on. He in turn called my aunt and she got Dawnie and came to sit with me
at the house while he went after my mother.

She came home, obviously, and they went to counseling. Things seemed to
be getting better until my mom quit the gallery. Somehow she got it in her
head that if she was more accessible to my dad, then they'd be happier and
he wouldn't stray again.

It backfired. The more accessible she became, the more distant he was.
She bent over backwards for him. Did everything she could to ‘be there' for
him that she lost herself. She did everything short of handing him his
fucking slippers when he came through the door. She gave up her dreams,
her gallery, everything – for him. And how did he repay her? He left her.

My mom became a shell of a woman. By the time all this happened, the
gallery had already been bought by new owners. If she wanted to go back,
she'd have to start from scratch. Nevermind the fact that she hadn't
touched a paintbrush since leaving, spending all her time being the Donna
Reed of the household.

Since my father was a lawyer, she made out pretty good. She stayed home,
took the odd class here and there, and took care of Dawn and I. She wasn't
happy, she's still not happy. She's miserable. Why? Because of love.
Because she loved my dad so much, she lost who she was. I swore when I
saw what she became that I would never let that happen to me. I would
never lose myself in someone to the point where I gave up my career and
my life. Especially for someone who would end up leaving me anyway."

"Buffy, your dad . . . he was an ass for doing that to your mother."

"Tell me about it. Know the last time I heard from him? When I was
seventeen and he invited me to his wedding."

"Was she—"

"I don't know. I didn't want to know."

"Buffy, love makes you do the wacky; I'm not going to lie to you about that.
It makes you do some pretty fucking amazing things. But what your dad
did . . . what happened to your parents . . . it won't ever happen to you. A
man that would cheat on his wife and betray his family like that is not a
man at all. And your mom . . . what she did . . . she was weak Buffy. She lost
herself because she let your dad define who she was. That's not you, that
would NEVER be you and I would NEVER let that be you. Do you think I
would let you do that to yourself?"

Buffy didn't answer, just let the tears fall.

Spike moved up to her and, grabbing a napkin, wiped at her tears. Pushing
the hair away from her face, he cupped her face in his hands. "I wouldn't
leave you, not ever Buffy," he promised. "Remember when we were in New
York and we were going to all those clubs?"

"Are you kidding me? How could I forget New York?"

"Right. Good point. Do you know how happy it made me to have you on my
arm? You willingly held onto me for support and I was on top of the world.
When were in that female strip club and those women were grinding
against poles and taking off their clothes. . . do you know who I kept seeing
on their faces?"

She shook her head.

"You, Buffy. You. I wasn't turned on from them, I was turned on by you.
You were up so close against me at the fantasy club . . . you were grinding
against me and it was like you were mine, just mine. It was you I desired, it
was you I was consumed with. I told you then, didn't I? I told you I was in
love with you and that I couldn't direct that sexual tension at anyone but
you. It's you Buffy, god help me, it's all about you.

You're not your mother, would never be, and I'm not your dad – would
never be."

She looked up at him with watery eyes. "Can we go now please? I just want
to go back now, okay?"

Spike nodded, leaning in and pressing a comforting kiss on her forehead. It
wasn't the time to push for anything at that moment. She needed to
regroup and gather herself back together. She wasn't much for breaking
down and he knew that when she did, it was a serious matter and not to be
taken lightly.

He kept an eye on her as they made their way back to the car and he could
see her thoughts were heavy. Hell, so were his. He'd learned a lot about
Buffy. He wondered if Angel knew any of it. He had a funny feeling that he
didn't. Safe men like Angel had no part in knowing the secret fears of Buffy

Summers. However, someone who was close to her, someone who
frightened her with their vows of love, was in the know.

It was obvious really: She was falling in love with him. And as much as that
should have pleased him, all he wanted to do at that moment was calm her
fears and fight the demons that plagued her with the memories of her
parent's marriage. He didn't want her to confess that the reason she was
terrified of him was because she was falling in love with him. He just
wanted to put the smile back on her face and even get her to argue with
him again.
Once they'd arrived at the office, Spike pulled her into a hug and just held her. She didn't fight him, she just held onto him for a long while until she'd murmured she had work to do and to stop by the next day. He nodded his agreement and left, thoughts heavy in his mind.





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