[Reviews - 648]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4638 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Twenty Two

"Just be patient with him, Buffy," Doyle advised as he drove her over to meet Spike at his first therapy session the next day.

"So you don't think just telling our parents what's going is best?"

"Oh no, I do. I do think you should tell them. I'm hoping he'll come around
sooner than three weeks. However, given his fragile state, I think Spike
might actually need that time to screw his head on tight and gather his
courage about him."

Buffy looked at him with a wry smile, "'Gather his strength about him'?"

Doyle shrugged, "Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Actually it does, Dr. Doyle."

"Not studying psychology just for shits and giggles you know. I actually do
plan to use it."

"As well you should considering all the help you've given me. And Spike in a
roundabout way."

"What are best friends for? Not to be shoved aside, I can tell you that."

"Never, ever Doyle," Buffy promised.

As Doyle pulled into the parking lot of the building Spike had given her
directions to, Buffy started to shake.

"I'm nervous," she told Doyle.

"Of what?"

"What if the therapist tells Spike he's sick? What if she tells him that we're
both sick and perverted? What if he ends up getting set back instead of
moving forward? She could be corrupted, out to get him. Don't corrupt
doctors prey on the weak?" she ranted as Doyle put the car in a spot and
turned it off.

"Only when they want to have sex with them," Doyle said seriously.

Buffy whacked him on the arm. "I'm serious here!"

"I know, I'm sorry. You know what I just heard in that rant?" Doyle asked
and turned to her.

"What?"

"I heard you say that it could be the doctor saying he's sick and that you're
both twisted. You know what that says to me?"

"Doyle, honestly, I'm not in the mood to try and piece together my rants
and what they mean."

"You put it on the doctor, not you or him. You haven't alluded to either of
you being sick or perverted or wrong since . . . well, since you crazy kids
finally told each other how you felt. That says to me that you KNOW it's not
wrong or sick or perverted and that if anyone thinks so, it's on them and
not on either of you. That's what that rant said to me."

"You would read into something like that," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"It's what I do," Doyle shrugged.

"Well don't stop doing it."

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

"You made it," Spike said, smiling down at Buffy and bringing her close.

After her pep talk from Doyle, she'd rushed inside the building to meet Spike who was standing inside the foyer of the large building, looking awkward and out of place.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. "Told you I
would."

"Doyle give you a ride?"

She nodded, "Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. He's a good, trustworthy friend."

"Who passes no judgment," she chimed in.

"Right. So, let's do this then."

"Where is it?"

"Third floor."

"Nervous?"

Spike nodded, not saying anything as he led her to the elevator with him.

Once inside, they were alone and Buffy took a good look at him; at the fear
in his eyes, at how taut with tension his body was.

She wrapped her arms around him once more and buried her face in his
chest. "Tell me, what are you nervous about? Is it the talking part? Or
what she'll say?"

"Both. I just, I don't know what to expect. I've only had limited contact
with doctors on a personal level. Most of my dealings with therapists were
for trying to understand Dru and . . . and getting her committed."

She looked up at him, caressing the side of his face in a calming manner.
"Not everyone knows what to do. Not everyone is brave enough to admit
when they need help."

"And God knows I need help, right?"

The elevator doors chimed and a second later they opened. Buffy squeezed
him once tightly before letting him go. Together they walked out of the
elevator and took an immediate right, following the numbers outside office
doors until they found the one that was right.

Spike grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly as they entered the waiting
room together. Walking up to reception, he gave his name and was handed
some papers to fill out. He turned to Buffy and gave her a nervous, lopsided
smile, "This is it then."

And when the doctor came for him, a woman by the name of Tara McClay,
Spike leaned over and kissed Buffy's forehead. "And so it begins," he
whispered.

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

"Was that your girlfriend?" Tara asked once the door was closed and she gestured for him to sit on the red vinyl chair against the wall. Tara took the chair across from him, curling her legs under her and placing her notebook on her lap.

"Yes," Spike said.

"What's her name?"

"Buffy."

Tara nodded and smiled. "Different."

"She's different all around. She's special, my Buffy," Spike said fondly,
grinning boyishly. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting.

"Now William—"

"Spike. I prefer Spike."

"Very well then. Spike. I want you to know that whatever we say here,
stays here."

"Patient confidentiality and all that rot?"

Tara smiled, "Yes. And all that ‘rot'."

"Sorry doc, don't mean to offend."

"You didn't. I don't offend easy."

"What's that like?"

"What?"

"To not offend easy?"

"I take it you do then."

"Offend easy?"

Tara nodded.

"I do. Well, I guess it depends on what we're talking about."

"Give me an example of something that offends you easily."

Spike chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I guess its not that I offend easily, I
just . . . I…"

"Take your time Spike."

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head, making the curls
spring forth. "I feel weak. I feel that . . . I don't feel strong."

"Is that why you called to make an appointment?"

"Yes. That and to maybe find some peace with what happened with my ex
wife."

"Let's start at the beginning then, shall we?"

He nodded, still fidgeting.

She grabbed his papers, the one with the family information on them. She
looked up at him, "So. Buffy is –"

"My stepsister. No blood between us at all. She's my step mother's
daughter."

There was no expression on Tara's serene face as she simply said,
"Interesting."





You must login (register) to review.