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~*~

Only a complete prat wouldn’t have noticed that there was something wrong with his girl when she practically burst into tears over the phone.

Since Spike wasn’t a complete prat, he knew damn good and well that whatever Buffy had to tell him, it couldn’t be good. He hadn’t pressed for details over the phone, though. Whatever she had to say, he wanted her to say it to his face.

Still, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he drove toward the cemetery. He was pretty damn sure it wasn’t normal for a girl to be crying the night after making love for the first time with her boyfriend. Or, if it was, then it sure as hell shouldn’t be.

When he arrived at the cemetery, she was already waiting, sitting on one of the headstones near the entrance. He jumped out of his car and ran towards her.

When she lifted her head to reveal tear-stained cheeks, his pace redoubled. Shit. “What’s wrong, pet?” he asked, slowing as he came near. He reached out and touched her cheeks. “Looks like you’ve been cryin’ something fierce.”

Buffy closed her eyes and leaned—but instead of going forward, toward his touch, she leaned away. Somehow that upset him more than the tears had. “Buffy…luv…what’s wrong?” Oh, sodding hell. He hadn’t sounded this pathetic since he was rejected by Cecily, back when he was stilling going round calling himself William. But she’s not gonna reject me. My girl wouldn’t do that.

“Yeah, I have,” she answered him in a small voice. “Spike…what happened last night. It was wrong.”

“Wrong? What the hell d’you mean, wrong?” Spike demanded. He saw her flinch, probably since he was yelling—but dammit! She couldn’t call what had happened the night before wrong! “Buffy, that was the best night of my life!”

“And it was mine, too, but—“

“But what? Why are we even having this conversation?” Spike plowed a hand through his hair. He had to stop yelling or all of Sunnydale would come out to witness this sorry soap opera. He forced his voice to soften. “Sorry, luv. ‘s just…I love you.”

He had no idea why, but it was clearly the wrong thing to say. Buffy’s eyes again filled with tears. “Summers? What—“

“That’s the problem!” Buffy burst out. “I love you, and you love me, but we didn’t use a condom, and—“

“Condom?” Now Spike was thoroughly confused. “What does a condom have to do with this?” Desperate, feeling like he was drowning, he tried to reach out to her. She again flinched away. “Summers—“

“No.” A single word, but spoken so resolutely, with such sadness written on her face, that Spike felt his heart break.

God, no. Not again. Please. I love her. She has to know that. Why is she hurting me? Herself? He felt his eyes fill with tears. Any other time he would have been embarrassed, but now he was just devastated. He could practically see all the foolish, poncy dreams he’d had about their future falling to pieces.

She must have seen the heartbreak on his face, because she whispered, “I’m sorry, Spike,” before turning around and walking away.

He’d never be sure why he let her go. Probably because his eyes were too blurred by tears to even see her walking away from him. He was in a stupor, blinded by the images of his love and the knowledge that she’d never be his again.

“Buffy.” Two syllables. Once they’d represented everything he’d ever wanted from the world. Now they were the reason he wanted nothing more than to leave.

Silence fell over the cemetery, broken only by heart-wrenching sobs and a name, repeated over and over like a litany: “Buffy….Buffy…Buffy…”

But no one else was there.

~*~

Was this what a broken heart felt like?

Buffy wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the weekend after the Halloween dance was utter hell. She spent most of it lying on her bed, staring at the wall, refusing to answer her phone for fear that Spike would be on the other end. She couldn’t face him right now. She couldn’t face anyone right now.

Dawn had asked a few tentative questions and gotten short, abrupt answers that probably told the younger girl exactly what was wrong. Dawn was smart that way.

The only good thing about that weekend was her parents. They’d been fighting without pause pretty much the whole time. It made everyone in the house miserable, but at least Buffy was constantly reminded of why she’d broken up with Spike.

Now it was late Sunday afternoon. She’d been without Spike for a day and a half. It had been hell, but at least school would be starting again soon. School, as long as she could avoid Spike, was a welcome distraction. Luckily for her, she’d already finished the parts of the project she’d have to be around Spike for.

Spike. Despite the fact that she’d ended things with him—or maybe because of it—she thought of him every second of the day, and each time she thought of him, it sent pain coursing through her.

“Fucking hell, B. I knew you were a bitch, but this really takes the cake.”

Buffy shot bolt upright. As soon as she saw the girl standing in her doorway, she groaned. “Faith, what the hell are you doing here?”

Faith grinned, walking in and plopping herself down next to Buffy on the bed. “Figured I’d pay you a visit,” she said cheerfully. “And, no offense, but you look like shit. Ever heard of a shower?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her not-so-welcome guest. “Ever heard of manners?”

Faith raised her hands. “And she comes out swingin’!” she exclaimed, grinning. “Look, B—this sure as hell wasn’t my idea. Just be glad they didn’t send Anya down here to talk some sense into you.”

“What? This is a fucking intervention?” Just what she needed—not!

“Hey, if you two weren’t being so damn stupid—“

“We’re not being stupid!” Buffy burst out. “We just decided to break up!”

“Oh, please. Like we’re supposed to believe that.”

Buffy froze. She was used to her conscience talking like Cordelia, but this voice sounded just a little more real.

Her worst fears were realized when the teen queen herself marched in and sat down primly on Buffy’s desk chair.

Buffy turned disbelieving eyes to Faith. “You guys got Cordy to come? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Okay, since when did you drop the f-word all over the place? You have so been hanging out with the Super-Slut too long.”

Faith narrowed her eyes at Cordy. “You wanna fight, girlfriend?”

Cordy narrowed her eyes right back. “Just the fact that you called me girlfriend is enough to make me want to rip your skanky head off.”

“Whatever.” Faith abruptly abandoned the potential girl fight. “We’re here to help, B. Which means that if we have to beat the shit out of you till you see sense, we will,” she added with a grin.

“Faith, I have seen sense!” Buffy exclaimed. “That’s why I broke up with Spike. We’re completely un-meshable! We’d make each other’s lives miserable!”

“Oh, right,” Cordelia said sarcastically. “That’s why you boinked him! Because you guys are so incredibly wrong for each other!”

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her former best friend. “So not your business,” she countered, unconsciously mimicking Cordy’s airhead way of speaking.

“Okay, valley girls, welcome back to reality,” Faith said impatiently. “I’m gonna ask you straight up: what the fuck happened with you and Spike?”

“Oh, I can answer that one!”

Buffy just arched an eyebrow incredulously at Cordelia. “You can?”

Cordy rolled her eyes. “Duh! Buffy’s got, like, a total complex about relationships because her parents are the worst couple ever, so she’s all terrified of relationships, and now that she and Spike are all ishy together, she’s running away like a scared little puppy. It’s totally obvious.”

Buffy and Faith just stared at her.

Cordelia was unfazed. “What? I watch a lot of Dr. Phil.”

“Is that really all, B?” Faith’s lip curled. “You parents are fucked up, so you think you and Spike are gonna bomb, too?”

“Speaking of bombs,” Cordelia interrupted, “could you please stop saying the f-word all the time?”

“Shut the fuck up, Cordy.”

“Guys!” Buffy interrupted hurriedly, before they started a catfight in the middle of her room. “Look, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the—um—help, but me and Spike are over, okay? As in, finished. Kaput. No more Buffy and Spike. Get it?”

Faith rolled her eyes. “I tried to tell ‘em she’d be bolshie,” she asided to Cordelia.

“Totally,” the other brunette agreed. “She’s way stubborn. She’s probably just as sad as Spike.”

“Spike?’ Buffy said quickly, hating herself for it but unable to let that pass. “He’s sad?”

“Hell yeah,” Faith said.

“He’s been like a puppy dog all weekend,” Cordelia chimed in. “I’ve seen him, because since me and Lorne are like best buds now, I hang out with his friends a lot. Well, that and because Harmony stepped on my dress and said something about Xander and I bitch-slapped her, so she kind of hates me now,” she added as an afterthought.

Buffy stared at her incredulously. Wow. Cordy was hanging out with the freaks and she didn’t need a date? That thought was almost funny enough to lift her current cloud of misery.

Almost.

“So, you’re really gonna be stupid about this?” Faith asked abruptly, staring at Buffy.

“Um. Yeah.” Buffy looked down, suddenly feeling ashamed—though she wasn’t really sure why. I had every right to break up with him!

Faith rolled her eyes. “Your fucking funeral, I guess.”

“You’re a total moron for letting a piece of salty goodness like that go—you know that, right?” Cordy said.

Buffy closed her eyes. “I know.” Her voice quavered.

“Okay, just checking…” Cordy trailed off, and an awkward silence took over the room.

“So—um—Tara’s grandmother—how is she?” Buffy asked. She honestly wanted to know, because she liked Tara, but it was also a desperate attempt to change the subject.

“Dying,” was Faith’s blunt answer. “She’s got a few more days, a week tops. Tara’s been shitty all weekend.”

“And I’ve just been lying here.” Buffy winced. Some friend she was.

The infamous shrug. “Doesn’t matter. She’s been doin’ the hermit thing, too, all locked up and refusing to talk to anyone.”

“Poor Tara.” Buffy felt a wave of sympathy for the other girl. She herself had only lost a boyfriend; Tara was facing the permanent loss of a relative. “Is she…I mean, is her grandmother going to…?”

“Odds are she kicks the bucket sometime this school week.” Faith’s words were callous, but their unsteadiness betrayed just how much the entire chain of events unsettled her. “Guess we’ll probably be goin’ to the funeral next weekend.”

“They really don’t expect her to hang on much longer?”

Faith shook her head. “The old woman’s brain is disintegrating, and she told everyone nix on the life support. She’s gonna die.” It was a stark, grief-filled statement; it suited the weekend perfectly, to Buffy’s way of thinking.

“If you see her before I do, tell her I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sure thing, B.” Faith stood up as thought to leave.

“Faith? Are we okay?” Buffy wasn’t exactly best friends with the girl, but Faith was a friend, one who she didn’t want to lose because of the thing with Spike.

“Five by five, B. Five by five.” And then, before Buffy could say anything else, Faith was gone.

Cordelia hesitated. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends again, you know. I’m only hanging out with your geeky new friends because Lorne’s the coolest gay guy I’ve ever met, and because I don’t have any other friends. But I still, like, totally hate you.”

Somehow, Buffy summoned the energy to smile. “Okay, Cordelia. See you tomorrow at school.”

“What-ever.” A typical Cordy rebuff; Buffy wasn’t in the least bit surprised.

What did surprise her was when, right before she reached the door, Cordelia paused and said, “But think about the Spike thing. Because I totally hate him, too, so you guys are, like, the perfect couple.”

“Right. I’ll do that.”

“Okay. Good. Bye.” Cordelia left hurriedly.

Buffy sighed and returned to staring at the ceiling. Neither Faith nor Cordelia really understood. She and Spike were doomed to never work out. That was just the way things were.

No matter how much Buffy wished it could be different.

~*~

“Um…Spike?”

“Couldn’t just leave a fellow alone to die, could you?”

“You’re gonna die?!” Panic registered in Red’s voice. “But…graduation! A-and, you, know, life!”

Spike sighed. “Willow—what the bloody hell are you doin’ here?”

“I, um—“ He sensed her hesitate but didn’t bother to look up. Pity she’d come in just then; he’d been gearin’ up to grab another JD.

“Okay, listen up, mister.” Red’s voice was suddenly stern, and ‘f he’d bothered to look at her, Spike knew he’d probably see her resolve face.

What he knew was that this time, there was no way in hell it was going to work.

“I’m here on a very important mission,” she continued.

He cocked a sardonic eyebrow. “Stop me from using m’ laser beam to destroy all ‘f metropolis?” he asked in a monotone, keeping his gaze trained on the ceiling.

“Um…no,” Willow stuttered. “Actually, Anya insisted that we try doing an intervention for you and Buffy, because you know you guys really shouldn’t have broken up, because you were perfect together, and now you’re—not together, and you’re both miserable, so why don’t you fix that problem and get un-broken-up?”

Spike let out another huge sigh. “B’cause she doesn’t sodding well want me, a’right? The bint made her choice, an’ it wasn’t—me.” His chest heaved up and down as he fought to keep a sob in. There was no way in hell he was gonna start crying again. Not until they left, anyways.

“Maybe there was another reason for her—you know—rejection?” Willow suggested in a small voice.

“Which was what, Red? Someone broke into her room an’ held a gun to her head, thereby forcing her to break up with me?” Spike voice was sarcastic. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Me be stupid? Excuse me? I’m not the one lying on the bed in misery because I’m too chicken to do anything except wallow!”

Normally that would’ve stung, especially coming from Willow, of all people, but right then, Spike couldn’t even muster up enough emotion to care what she’d said, much less get pissed off about it. “Look, Red. You did you part, came here and tried to talk me out ‘f my misery. Now be a good girl an’ go tell Anya I said to shove off, yeah?”

Despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her, he could almost see her pursing her lips. “Fine,” she said, clearly peeved. “But when you’re miserable for the rest of your days because you’re too damn stubborn to make up with Buffy, don’t come crying to me.”

When he didn’t answer, just kept staring stubbornly at the wall, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

He sighed. Great show, Spike. Your girlfriend and your best friend both hate you. What’s next, the sodding apocalypse?

“’m not gonna come crying to ‘er, anyway,” Spike muttered, rolled over and grabbing the now-familiar bottle. “Don’t need her, do we, mate?” He drank as much whiskey as he could guzzle, took a break, and drank some more. “Nope. Jusht fine—on—m’ own. Donneed her, no shir. Nahme…”

Oblivion blanketed him for the rest of the day.

~*~

A/N: So, that was the major angst chapter. I’m thinking one, maybe two more sad chaps after this, then more fluffy goodness, then the end…sound good? Thanks for the reviews telling me just how much you hate me...no, seriously, thank you. I got a crapload of reviews for the last chap *is very happy* Oh, and “bolshie” is an actual word—or at least, Microsoft Word thinks it is. It came up as a synonym for stubborn. I just thought it was a very Faith-ish word ;)





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