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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to everyone for reading this story. It means so much to me.
YOU NEVER CAN TELL


Chapter 17: ‘Lonely Teardrops’


‘Nearly four months later, after the last chapter’


William ‘Spike’ Giles groaned, wearily, when the alarm next to the bed that he and his wife, Buffy shared, went off.

‘Fucking bloody hell, of course,’ Spike hissed, a little resentful, to himself, ‘it’s already 5:00 AM and I need to pull out of here and head off to work.’

Spike’s gaze fell upon his wife, Buffy, who still slept soundly next to him. His countenance softened, a little, as he took in the beauty that was his young wife, and the mother of his child.

‘Pull it together,’ Spike ordered himself, sternly, ‘she needs you,’ he reminded himself. ‘Your baby needs you,’ he added with a sigh.

Buffy was getting pretty big, baby wise, and daily, it reminded Spike that he was the sole provider for her and their child. It was a daunting task, really, to be the only one really supporting this fledgling little family.

After firing up the stove, to make some coffee in the pot, Spike stepped out onto the back porch to have a smoke. He’d cut down, on the cigarettes that is, greatly. Still needed to quit, he realized, with all this bad press and such, lately. Supposedly, although no big surprise, cigarettes were ‘bad’ for your health.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Buffy asked with a yawn, from behind him. She stood, blurry eyed, in their kitchen and stared out at the back porch, questioningly.

“Anything,” Spike croaked in response. A little more abrupt then he actually meant to be. True, Buffy had become a better cook and housekeeper, but sometimes, some of the poor girl’s culinary creations were questionable, to say the least.

Buffy waddled over to the stove and turned off the burner, underneath the coffee pot. She poured Spike his cup of coffee, then one for herself and headed to the Amana fridgerator.

“Eggs?” Buffy grunted.

“Fine,” Spike responded as he ground out the cigarette butt with his booted foot.

They ate together, but in silence. Buffy had noticed a slight change in her William’s demeanor, for the last few weeks or so. Of course, she wrote it off as ‘worry’ as to the upcoming birth of their child. But, the insecure, hormonal part of Buffy’s brain and body just ‘had’ to think it was something else. Something ‘she’ was doing wrong, in the long run.

“What’s bothering you, baby?” Buffy asked, warily. “You’ve been ‘funny’ for a few weeks? What’s up?”

Spike sighed in frustration and tossed his uneaten piece of toast onto his plate. He gave Buffy a roll of his blue eyes and responded with a grumble, “what isn’t wrong?”

Buffy flinched, nervously, and bolted out of her chair. She picked up her finished plate and William’s unfinished one, dramatically.

As she placed the used dinner ware into the little sink, Buffy mumbled, under her breath, “me? Is that what’s wrong?”

Spike’s acute hearing picked up Buffy’s words and he slammed his fist down on the table in front of him. “Grow up, Buffy,” he hissed, angrily.

“Let’s get real here,” he continued, almost coldly, as Buffy turned to face him. She tried not to let the self-pitying tears she felt, slip down her cheeks. Not in front of ‘him’ that is. This, this man that had knocked her up and…

“I can barely keep food on the table, pay the rent and keep us clothed and we’ve got less then two months until William Jr. arrives there,” Spike pointed at Buffy’s protruding tummy, resentfully. (Or so Buffy thought).

“Frankly,” Spike continued, roughly, “I have no idea how I’m going to pay for the hospital bill. And that’s even if everything goes smoothly. What about if there’s a problem, eh?”

Spike couldn’t help himself, he glared at his Princess, not even trying to cover his momentary resentment at her. For ‘getting’ them into this mess in the first place.

“The eggs,” Buffy mumbled, almost in a daze. “I paid for them, with the pennies we’ve saved up from since we got here. It was so humiliating, Will,” she began to cry, softly, “to have to use a roll of pennies to buy food.”

‘God help me,’ Spike groaned silently, ‘I’m so fucking tired and I still don’t have enough money saved. For Buffy, for the baby or me.’

“I offered, to get a job,” Buffy murmered in a defensive tone. “Tried to help out, financially,” she added with a pout, barely concealing the now falling tears.

“And just what is it that you can do, as a real job, Princess?” Spike hissed, snarkily. His weariness unconcealed as he glared, yet again, at his beautiful wife.

“Will…” Buffy stammered, somewhat shocked at this ugly side of her wonderful, albeit young husband.

“Last time I checked?” Spike spat, sarcastically, “they don’t pay wages for cheerleaders. Especially fat ones,” he added with an uncontrolled sneer.

“Oh God,” Buffy gasped, her hand placed over her mouth, as if to stave off any more harsh responses, from her anyway.



Finally, Buffy removed her tiny hand from her mouth and sighed, sadly, “I guess I should have gone through with it, huh, Will?” She sounded so lost and sad, to Spike, probably to herself.

“Just should have let that so called doctor stick that thing up me and got rid of this…” Buffy couldn’t finish, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Maybe you should have,” Spike mumbled, sounding not truly convinced at his own words.

“It’s another girl, isn’t it!” Buffy hissed, going completely cave woman on her man. “You’ve found some thin, pretty little piece of ass that’ll satisfy you, since I can’t anymore. Not really anyway, and…”

“No!” Spike roared in disbelief that his Buffy would ever think ‘that’ of him. Or that his Earth angel could ever use such language as that. “I’d never even look at another bird. It’s just you, baby, always,” he whimpered, still shocked that his Princess could even consider such a thing of him.

“Oh, Jesus, Buffy,” Spike choked out, immediately, realizing what he’d actually said, earlier, and that he didn’t really mean it.

‘What the fuck was I thinking?’ Spike asked himself in disgust. ‘To ever throw that night, back in Sunnydale at her?’

“I’m sorry, please forgive me,” he begged as he stood from his chair and headed to his wife. To comfort her, that is.

“Go to work,” Buffy spat, her usually soft voice was harsh and bitter. Buffy’s face was scrunched up and Spike could swear he saw true hate for him, in her gorgeous green eyes.

“Just go to work, that’s something you’re good at, at least,” she snapped at him.

“Buffy…” Spike reached out his arms to hold his wife to him, but she turned away, quickly.

“Get away from me,” Buffy hissed, her back turned to him. “Get the hell away from me and stay away. When you get home tonight?” she mumbled, “don’t even talk to me. You’re a real asshole, you know that Giles?” she choked on the name she called him, but kept her back turned to him. Shutting him out and shunning him away from her.

Later, at the construction site, Spike held the house frame up, securely, as Jesse hammered some nails into the structure. The blond teen’s mind was anywhere but here, on this particular job. He thought about his beautiful Buffy, his angel, at home, alone. Probably crying her eyes out at the horrible things they’d said to each other, this morning.

At first break, Spike had tried to call Buffy on their phone. Fred and Jesse had encouraged the couple to spend some money on a phone, especially as Buffy’s delivery date grew closer. When Buffy didn’t answer, again Spike just figured that she was playing hard to get, kind of shunning him.

‘I’ll make it up to her,’ Spike assured himself, as he hung up the pay phone and made his way back to the job site. ‘I’ll stop and buy her some roses, somewhere, and for a low price,’ he mumbled. He was disgusted at himself for not being able to afford better things for his Buffy.

Lunchtime, came and went, and Spike tried again, to call Buffy at home. Still, no answer. He began to get a horrible, sinking feeling deep inside him and when second break came? Spike hurried to the pay phone and called his ‘girl’ once again.

“Answer, baby,” he pleaded over the phone receiver, desperately, “please, please answer, Princess,” he begged and begged. Again, there was no answer at ‘their’ home.

The minute Spike got home from work, a discount bunch of roses in his left hand, he realized the truth. Buffy, his Buffy, was gone. Her little suitcase, the one that she’d packed, so carefully, months before, was missing. So was at least half of her wardrobe.

“Oh God,” Spike groaned, miserably, “my ‘baby’, my ‘babies’ are gone,” he whimpered. After he had checked out the bedroom, all of the closets and dresser drawers, Spike had to accept the truth. Buffy had left him, totally, and probably gone home, to Sunnydale, California, and her secure, safe life there.

“She’s run back to Daddy,” Spike grumbled, resentfully, opening another beer and drinking it down in one gulp.

Without really thinking, Spike headed to the Hi-Fi phonograph and selected a particularly appropriate song to play. He slipped the record onto the phonograph and opened yet another bottle of beer,with his teeth of all things.

Sitting down on the otherwise empty sofa, totally miserable by now and close to tears. Spike watched the bloody stupid record play and spin out the sorrowful song.


‘Lonely Teardrops’ (by Jackie Wilson)


‘My heart is crying, crying lonely teardrops
My pillow’s never dry of lonely teardrops
Come home, come ho-o-o-o-o-o-ome
Sa-ay you will (say you will)
Hey-ah-hey (say you will)

My heart is crying, crying lonely teardrops
My pillow’s never dry of lonely teardrops
Come home, come ho-o-o-o-ome,
Just say you will, say you will (say you will)
Hey say you will

Just give me another chance, for our romance
Come on and tell me that one day you’ll return,
‘Cause every day that you’ve been gone away
You’ll know that my heart does nothing but burn…

Crying lonely teardrops
My pillow’s never dry of lonely teardrops
Come home, come ho-o-o-o-ome,
Just say you will (say you will)
Hey, say you will

Say it right now, baby (say you will)
Come on, come on
Say you will, baby…’


Spike picked up the phone receiver and dialed Jesse Green’s home phone number. Not surprised when Jesse answered, Spike pleaded with the older teen to come over and ‘talk’ to him.

“I’ll be there, in 10 minutes,” Jesse promised his friend. “Stay put,” the older ‘man’ ordered, judging that Spike had been drinking, heavily by now.

“She’s left me,” Spike mumbled, guiltily, as he handed his friend, Jesse a beer bottle for himself. “Buffy’s gone and I just know she’s found a way to head home, to Sunnydale,” he choked out, his voice full of pain and misery.

“I see,” Jesse mumbled, watching his friend, warily. The dark haired man took a swig of beer and eyed Spike, thoughtfully.

“Can I ask you something?” Jesse inquired with a raised brow, “about ‘before’ you came to Houston?”

Spike took another swig of his beer and nodded, silently.

“Did Buffy try and have an operation? In California?” Jesse asked, bluntly.

Spike spit his mouthful of beer out and gasped loudly. He glared at Jesse Green, suddenly sorry that he asked his so called friend to join him in his misery.

“Don’t get all full of piss and vinegar, Spike,” Jesse shook his dark head at the blond teen. “Buffy talks to Fred, a lot,” he nodded, sipping his own beer.

“Buffy confided in Fred, who told me, sorry, but that’s the way it is,” Jesse sighed. “Girls need a girlfriend to confide in, Spike,” he added, knowingly.

“What? You think that the minute that Fred told me she was pregnant with Jake,” Jesse stared at his new friend in disbelief, “that ‘we’ didn’t think about ‘that’ operation? This is Houston, Texas, Spike,” Jesse snorted, “Mexico is less then three hundred miles south of here. It’s legal, in Mexico, did you know that?”

“No,” Spike mumbled gruffly. “I don’t give a rat’s arse where it’s legal or not. I want Buffy, and our baby,” he finished with a grunt of his own and took another swig of his drink.

“I wanted the baby, and Fred, too,” Jesse nodded firmly, “and I thank God, every day, that we didn’t make that trip across the border. It’s just that it’s hard on us, all of us, Spike,” Jesse sighed heavily. “It’s hard enough, to survive, day by day,” the wise nineteen-year-old sighed, “but for us, the really young ones? It’s near impossible.”

“Me and Fred? We got lucky. My folks came around, they love little Jake, desperately, like we do. Fred’s folks, they died, years ago and left her to an old maiden aunt to raise her. The old biddy could have cared less what happened to my Winnefred,” Jesse continued, bitterly.

“When she got pregnant with Jake, the old bitch said ‘good riddance’ to her neice and encouraged us to get married. Happily, it turned out,” Jesse finished with a warm smile.

“I want Buffy, and our baby,” Spike repeated, his words slightly slurred form the alcohol he’d imbibed. “Don’t want her to leave me,” Spike whimpered, in a self-pitying tone. “I love Buffy and she’s gone,” the blond teen began to cry, all unmanly like. He tried to stop the flow of tears, but he couldn’t and finally, he just broke down and let them slip down his cheeks.

“She’s run back home to Daddy Hank. He’ll make it all better for her, make things right. The fuck’ll make my Buffy give our baby away and he’ll…” Spike couldn’t finish, he broke down and began to sob, in earnest.

“Don’t be an ass,” Jesse chuckled, ignoring his friend’s pain, or so it would seem. “Buffy’s at my house, with Fred, has been all day,” the dark haired man grinned at the sobbing blond teen.

“Maybe next time,” Jesse chuckled, evilly, “you’ll be more careful with what you say to your pregnant wife, eh?”

Spike leapt up from the sofa and headed for the front door. “I’ll go to your place, drag my Buffy home,” he threatened with a really ‘manly’ sniff or two.

“No,” Jesse ordered, motioning Spike to sit back down on the sofa in front of him. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll let Buffy and ‘you’ settle down and cool off,” he continued with authority.

“Tomorrow, I’ll have Fred go to my Mom’s, for breakfast, with little Jake and leave Buffy at our house, alone. I’ll tell Dad that you’ll be missing work tomorrow. You can go over to our place and ‘fix’ this mess with Buffy. Guarantee it, Buffy’ll be home, with you, by tomorrow afternoon. You just stay here, drink yourself into oblivion and get cleaned up in the morning. Then, you go to our place, confront Buffy, on your knees, that is,” Jesse gave Spike a stern look. “And make sure you kiss your girl’s ass, a hundred times, if need be. Beg her forgiveness.”

Spike wiped the tears from his flushed cheeks and smiled, slightly at his friend. “Thanks, mate,” he whispered softly.

“It’s okay, man,” Jesse grinned at the blond teen, “we guys? We gotta’ stick together at times like this. Make each other understand what real assholes we can be at times, huh?” Jesse chuckled again and saluted his friend, Spike, with his beer bottle.


A/N: Short chapter…and so soon! Thanks for reading, please review and again, thanks. Luv, Spuf





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