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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you.
Chapter Twelve

"Organs don't feel emotions," Buffy said as she was curled up in a ball on Doyle's bed. Doyle sat beside her, rubbing her back gently.


"Yes, that's true," Doyle said slowly.


"Then why does your heart ache when you're hurt? I don't understand it. It pumps blood, it doesn't . . . it's not supposed to feel. My spleen and my liver don't hurt when my feelings are hurt. So then what is it about the heart? Why does it feel as if someone is squeezing it?"

"Squeezing?"


"Yes, squeezing. Just enough to stop it from doing its job properly. Just enough to make this incredible ache that makes me want to rip it out so I don't feel it anymore. I feel like it could just stop beating. Like I could have a heart attack from it aching so much."

"Oh Buffy, I wish I could stop the ache for you," Doyle said sadly.

Buffy rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. "Why do you have to be gay?"


He smiled gently. "Why do you have to be a girl?"

She smiled wanly back and then rolled back over. "You don't mind if I
stay here tonight?"


"Of course not. And you know my parents think of you as the daughter
they never had. So really you're just letting them live out a fantasy by
being here."


"My parents are going to start wondering why I don't want to be home
anymore," she murmured into the pillow.


"Eh, not really. You still spend the same amount of time here as always."

"My mother was hoping Spike and I would get close."


"Which part hurts you more? The part where he lied or the part where it
was Harmony?"


She contemplated that for a minute. "Both," she finally said. Then, "Well,
to be fair he didn't know about my history with Harmony. . . but it's just the
thought that some girl comes around . . . And especially after all the crap he
spewed about how important it was to wait for someone special."


"Playing devils advocate here, but maybe he just meant that you should wait for someone special when it's your first time."


"So then all bets are off after that?" She shook her head. "He just doesn't want me to have sex. He wants me to stay all virginal and sweet—"

"After that punch you laid on him today, I doubt he'll be quick to use
‘sweet' as the first adjective to describe you."


Buffy giggled slightly.


"There's a little giggle," Doyle said lightly, poking her side.

"Still, Doyle. He went on about how he slept with the girl he loved –
and then married, mind you—but then Harmony comes along and—What is
that all about?"


"Did you ever think he took up with her because he couldn't have the girl
he really wanted?"


She rolled over and looked back up at him. "You mean me?"

Doyle nodded.

She wrinkled her nose. "Gross. Harmony was my substitute."


"It's just a theory Buffy."

"Then he lied to me. Why did he lie to me?"


"He didn't want you to be upset with him. He didn't want the wind knocked out of him with a swift punch to the gut. He was ashamed of his behavior. He didn't want you to think less off him."

Buffy sat up, scowling. "Doesn't make it all right."


"It doesn't," Doyle agreed.

"I fucking asked him and he fucking lied. Right to my face." She pointed at her face.


Doyle nodded. "I'm actually pretty surprised on both accounts. I never
pegged him as one to do anything with Harmony and I never pegged him as
one to lie – well, to lie to you anyway."


"You know stuff, don't you?" she looked at him curiously.

"Depends on what you mean by ‘stuff'."


She gave him a look. "You know what I mean."

"I have strong suspicions."


"You have all along."

"Since he flipped out on me in your bedroom that day."


"How is that possible?"

"Because Buffy, he didn't react like a simple protective brother. He was
over and beyond that. Don't get me wrong, he did want to make sure your
virtue wasn't endangered, but it wasn't just brotherly. He was jealous."


"You amaze me."

Doyle shrugged, "I know, I'm pretty amazing."


"Do you think he – I mean do you think he—?"

"Loves you?"


Buffy nodded.

"Yes. But he has the same hang ups you had—have?"


"Sort of still have. Though currently dissipating by the minute with all this
ache in my heart. It kind of makes you focus more on what the other
person means to you and sibling feelings don't make you ache like this."


"I also think that there's something else. You're right about something
haunting him. I bet it has a lot to do with his time on the east coast and his
ex wife."


"I wonder if he cheated on her. Ooo! Ooo! Maybe he's a serial cheater. A
nympho that just can't help himself. Maybe he's afraid he'll do the same to
me that he did to her and that's why he fights it so hard. Ooo! Ooo! Maybe
she went crazy because—No, she cheated on him. But maybe because he
did it first or—"


"Buffy, the plain and simple matter of it is, you're not going to know until
you talk to him about it."


"That's just it, Doyle. He's not talking to me about it, remember? And honestly, I'm a little too angry and hurt to talk to him right now."


***********************************************************


Somehow Buffy had managed to avoid him for three days. Three very long
days. He hadn't even had a glimpse of her, barely even heard her through
the wall in his room. Course, she'd spent one night at Doyle's, and then no doubt climbed through her window on the remaining nights to avoid him. She'd called Joyce with her plans and even Joyce was starting to get suspicious about all the time Buffy was starting to spend over at Doyle's and the reasons why. She'd asked him if they were getting along okay and he'd lied –again—and said yes, they were getting along fine.

On the third night, he'd had enough and decided he'd just wait in her room until she got home. But, the stubborn –and incredibly smart chit—had locked her door. The message was clear to him: Stay away.


But he was going crazy with not being able to see her, with knowing that she hated him, with knowing that she was hurt and he'd been the one that caused it. At first he thought time apart would be helpful, but now . . . Now he just wanted to do whatever he could to have her forgive him.

He was even willing to tell her everything about Dru.


Now he just had to corner her long enough to get her to talk to him. Well, if she was going to lock him out of her room, then he'd just wait outside for her. Right behind that damn tree she climbed to get in.

*********************************************************

He was starting to fall asleep. He shook his head and tried to check his watch. He tilted it toward the moonlight when he heard voices coming closer.


"Thanks for tonight Buffy." Male. A male voice. Spike narrowed his eyes and quietly stood, maneuvering himself so he could observe this, and yet not attract attention.

It was the tall guy she'd been talking to at The Bronze that fateful night. His hands balled into fists.

"Well, thank YOU for the ice cream, Riley," Buffy told him.


"So maybe we could do this again?"

"Of course, just give me a call. Night!" she started for the tree and waved. The doofus she called Riley waved and crossed the street.


He could hear her humming to herself as she came closer. She reached out to put her hand on the first branch when Spike decided to strike. He moved out from the shadows and sidled up behind her, clamping a hand over her mouth.

He managed to get out "It's me," just as her elbow connected with his gut. He doubled over stumbled back as she spun around, eyes wide and slightly horrified.


He rubbed his sore stomach and gasped for air. "Bloody hell, Buffy. Guess I never have to worry about you being able to defend yourself huh?"

She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. "What are you doing with the waiting behind the tree?"


"You locked your door."

"Take the hint," she told him and turned, reaching for the branch again.


He grabbed her wrist, halting her. "Buffy, we need to talk."

She tried to free herself, but he held on. "We need to talk now? I see. When
you're ready we talk. But when I wanted to, you couldn't be bothered. Well,
you know what? Now I can't be bothered. Now let me go."


He shook his head, "No."

"I have another arm left and my legs. Let. Me. Go."


"If I have to tie you up, I will. Just . . . just at least hear me out."

She sighed heavily. "Fine."


"Mean that?"

She nodded. "Now let me go."


He released her, but was prone for action should she make a run for it. She
didn't. Instead, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You have
five minutes. Make it good."





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