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Chapter 31 – Losing Sight of the Big Picture


Feeling short of breath as he walked through the hallway, Spike barely registered his own movements as he entered the living room. Seeing Buffy nervously pacing in front of the fireplace, he let a smile play on his lips until she turned toward him.

Spike watched as her eyes widened for a moment before she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m not armed.”

Looking at her in confusion, he frowned, unsure of what she was saying. Noticing that her gaze was redirected to his hand, he looked down, realizing that he was still holding his gun.

Clearing his throat, he hastily set it down on a nearby table before nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wasn’t for you, pet.”

“Yeah, well… can’t be too sure in this house,” she muttered, not making eye contact with him as she looked at the floor, obviously remembering the last time she’d been in his home.

Clearing his throat, Spike hesitantly took a few steps toward her. “Why are you here?”

“Aside from the ‘trying to not get killed’ portion of the visit?” she asked with a slight smile.

“Wouldn’t hurt you, love,” he said quietly. “Not intentionally.”

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Buffy fought the disbelieving laugh. “I think the scar and the bruises on my neck would tell a different story,” she said, looking up to see his reaction.

Spike dropped his eyes, clearing his throat as he shifted from foot to foot, remembering the night from so many months ago as well as what he’d done to her the night before, trying to remember that it all fell under the realm of being ‘for her own good’.

“Low blow,” Buffy said after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t the first one you’ve ever taken,” he said, forcing a smile when he looked into her eyes. “Why are you here, Buffy?” he repeated.

“Work,” she replied, seeing his body go rigid. “Not… It’s nothing related to you, Spike,” she said quickly. “Not directly, anyway.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, tilting his head to study her.

“Truth?”

“First time for everything,” he said, trying to smile as he moved closer, leaning against the back of the couch, directly across from where Buffy was standing.

“Okay,” she said, obviously gathering her nerves as she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “I miss you,” she said, fighting to keep her eyes on his as the confusion and mistrust flashed through his gaze.

“Alright,” he said slowly, unsure of what the underlying meaning of her words could signify.

“Don’t ask me why,” she continued with a slight laugh, doing what she could to lighten the mood. “But I do.”

“What’s that mean, then?” he asked, eyeing her warily.

“I’ve talked to Giles,” she said quietly, seeing him tense at the mention of her boss. “He said if you’re determined to go after Angelus, there’s a way…”

“Spit it out, Buffy,” he said, unsure of where the conversation was going.

“If you go after Angelus for the Bureau and you keep clean after that… you’ll be fully exonerated. For everything,” she clarified, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise. Waiting for a response, she nervously gave him a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”

“Where’s the catch?” he asked after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?”

“The catch. I’ve done too much shit to be let go, Buffy.”

“But they can’t prove it,” she said, shaking her head to emphasize her point.

“And why’s that?” he asked suspiciously. “Surely you would have turned over anything and everything that you found when you were with… when you were investigating me.”

“Not everything,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. “I gave them enough information to arrest you, if you’d gone after the Renoir, but they don’t know anything about… the people you’ve killed.”

Rubbing his jaw for a moment, Spike took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “And you know?”

“Spike, you already told me-”

“You know details?” he asked with an edge to his voice. There had once been a small window of opportunity that he would have told her everything she wanted to know about his past dealings, but that time had long passed. “Answer me, Buffy.”

Looking into his eyes, she kept her expression indifferent as she nodded. “I know a few details,” she confirmed.

“How?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“There was a time when you trusted me, Spike,” she said quietly, seeing the anger simmering below the surface.

“I didn’t tell you anything beyond the basics,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s a big house,” she said, never looking away from his strong gaze. “And at that time, you didn’t know why I was here… part of the reason why I was here,” she corrected, looking away when his eyes narrowed.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” he asked, taking a step toward her, fighting the slight smile when she didn’t step away.

“Why do you think?” she replied, raising an eyebrow as he smirked at her.

“Didn’t want me locked up, love?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” she asked, closing her eyes when he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist, gently nuzzling her neck and sending chills racing through her.

“Tell you what,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her pulse point. “You go back to daddy dearest…” Moving higher until his teeth were gently scraping over the scar that he had inflicted on her, “…And tell him…” Kissing her jaw before brushing his lips over hers, “…That I’m not interested.”

Buffy immediately went rigid in his arms, the fog that seemed to surround her beginning to lift as she pulled back to look at him in disbelief. “Spike…?”

“You heard me,” he said, using every ounce of strength that he possessed to step away from her. “I don’t want to be associated with them.”

“Spike, you go after Angelus on your own, and you’ll get arrested for murder,” she said, feeling short of breath. “What’s so bad about using the Bureau as a cover? You do everything the same, but here’s a novel idea- you don’t go to prison,” she said sarcastically.

“Not doing it, Buffy.”

“But we could be together,” she whispered, staring at the floor, not even knowing that she’d voiced her thoughts until she saw Spike look at her.

“We couldn’t,” he said, shaking his head slightly, trying to control his breathing when she looked up at him. “We’re too different.”

“And we’re exactly the same,” she said, gritting her teeth as she looked at him. “You’re the one who told me that.”

“Just doesn’t work that way, pet,” he said quietly. “This isn’t a fairytale.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she cried irritably. “You’re not exactly the night in shining armor in this scenario, Spike. You’re not even the guy who rides up to the rescue on a white horse.”

“Then why do you want me?” he asked, grabbing her arms in a harsh grip, pulling her close until she was intimately pressed against him.

“Because you’re you,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Because you can be a good man. I’ve seen it.”

“When?” he growled. “When have you seen it? When I was lying to you? When I practically raped you? When I pulled a gun on you?”

“I’ve lied to you more than you ever lied to me,” Buffy countered, taking a deep breath when she felt his hands tighten on her arms. “And I never said no when you tried to touch me. I always wanted you, Spike,” she said in a choked voice. “And as for the gun- you mean the fake one that you showed to Giles?” she asked, seeing the surprise on his face as he let her go and took a step away, turning away from her, unable to look into her eyes anymore. “Yeah,” she continued with a slight nod. “He told me. Now you tell me… why don’t you want to do this?”

“Don’t you get it?” he yelled, spinning around to face her, his nerves on edge. “I would lose everything. Everything, Buffy.”

“I don’t care about that,” she whispered harshly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, wanting to make him see that she wasn’t there for his money or the power he had in certain circles.

“I do,” he said, trying not to let the tears that were shimmering in her eyes bother him.

“So that’s it?” she whispered breathlessly, turning her gaze toward the floor, unable to look into his eyes.

“I guess so,” he replied, fighting to keep the nonchalance in his tone and his expression when her gaze slowly raised to his.

Debating for a moment whether to follow her feminine instincts and let the tears free or take the high road, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before focusing on him once again.

“Enjoy your life, Spike… you’ve earned it,” she said graciously, seeing the confusion in his eyes. Taking a step forward, she slowly reached up, touching the back of his neck and guiding him lower, toward her. Hesitating for a moment, she brushed her lips against his, eliciting a soft sigh from him. Pulling back when he tried to deepen the kiss, she tried to suppress the whimper at the loss of contact. Taking a step back, needing the distance from him, Buffy looked up at him with sad eyes, trying to force a smile on her lips. “Goodbye…William.”

Turning around, she quickly left the room, needing to get out of his house as fast as possible.

Practically running through the huge foyer, she didn’t bother to look back, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes as she threw open the front door.

Never turning around to see the look of longing in Spike’s eyes.






Thanks so much to: caatje, spuffette, B, Whitelighter354, Tahmoe, Liz, demona424, Kimber, Elanor, Jessica, Franchesca, Brittany, Wika Tara, Cordykitten, Caitie, baby spikes, BuffyandSpikeForever, ChrissieLinnit, bluebird, H, spuffy101, Becky, Opal, jennybean, txjmfan, Irishwoman39 (glad you’re okay!) & willowmouse for reviewing!





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