~*~
Ten minutes earlier
“What the hell could you possibly have to tell me that I’d want to listen to?” Buffy snapped, wondering just how much force she’d have to put behind the pen before it went straight through Angel’s forehead. Probably a lot. She kept it where it was.
“It’s Harmony.” Angel drew in a shuddering breath; Buffy noted with delight that he looked almost as hurt as he did when she broke up with him. “She…she dumped me, okay?”
“And I should care…why?” Yep, bitchy Buffy was driving today.
The park bench shook when Angel slammed his fist against the side. Buffy didn’t even blink. “Because I cared about her!” Angel exclaimed. “And now she’s gone, and I just—Jesus. I’ve been such a jerk.”
“Yep, you have,” Buffy agreed politely.
He glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” she shot back. “You’re the one who decided to accost me on the bench. And believe me, I have lots of things I’d rather do than listen to you blabber on about your stupid ex-girlfriend.”
Which was actually ironic because she was his ex, too. Thank God Angel didn’t really understand irony.
“I know.” He covered his face with his hand. “I can’t believe I gave you and Spike such a hard time.”
“Yeah, well, what can I say? Some people are just jerks,” she said snidely.
“No. I just—Buffy,” he said suddenly, taking his hand away from his face. There were tears shining in his eyes. Oh, terrific.
“I want you to know,” he said, holding her gaze, “That I really am sorry.”
She nodded. “It doesn’t matter, you know. We’re together. That’s it.”
He leaned a bit closer. “I know. But Buff, you gotta believe me—I was a little ticked, but I never meant to hurt you guys. It was mostly Harmony’s fault.”
It was meant to placate her, but instead she found herself wanting to slap him again. “I’ll believe that as soon as I believe the moon is made of cheese,” she snapped, reaching out and shoving him angrily.
She really wasn’t expecting for him to grab her and kiss her.
In fact, she wasn’t expecting it so much that when it actually happened, she froze in complete and utter shock. Angel’s lips. On hers. Angel’s hands holding her tight. Angel.
Oh, ew.
She pushed him away just in time to see Spike standing there. Oh, thank God, she thought, interpreting the shocked look on his face to mean that Angel was about to get his ass handed to him again. But instead of punching Angel, Spike’s eyes met hers.
“So this is how it is, huh?”
“Wait, what?” If she hadn’t believed her eyes a minute ago, now she didn’t believe her ears. Spike’s voice was hollow, his eyes empty…hurt.
Oh God, he didn’t think she’d actually wanted to kiss Angel, did he? The thought alone made her choke down a nervous giggle. “Spike…”
“Oh, so you think this is funny.” And now he really was angry, but it was inexplicably directed at her.
“No!” she protested quickly. “Spike, I swear, he caught me completely off guard. I tried to make him cut it out, but—“
“Buffy.” And now his voice is trembling, angry and kind of scary. “You were kissing the bloke.”
“No, he was kissing me,” Buffy argued. “Spike, you have to believe me, I didn’t—“
“What?” he demanded. “You didn’t what? Didn’t want to kiss him?”
“No, I didn’t!”
He looked at her coldly, face a mask of fury, and she had to fight not to burst into tears. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. It was completely and totally insane.
But as she stared up into his face, she realized that crazy or not, it was in fact happening.
And she was furious.
“Relationships are built on trust, remember? Mature,” and she spat the word out, “people trust each other. So what does that make us?”
“Mature people also don’t dally with their exes,” Spike said coldly.
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“And you’re avoiding mine!” It was bullshit, surreal bullshit, that he could be standing here and accusing her of—what? Cheating?
She couldn’t be sad any more. If this was real—and honestly, Buffy had her doubts—but if it was, then she and Spike were breaking up, and the longer this crap continued the less patience she had for anything.
“Fine then,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “Looks like we’re through.”
His expression didn’t change any more than hers did. “Looks like.”
“Get out.” For the first time since Angel had fled the room she stood up, looking Spike dead in the eye. “Get out of my house,” she repeated, forcing her chin to stay high, her voice to stay clear, “And don’t come back.”
She didn’t know what she was expecting, what she was hoping for. But when Spike nodded, turned around, and walked away, she couldn’t help feeling like someone had just ripped her apart.
~*~
It didn’t hit right away.
He was out of the Summers’ house, across the street, and halfway back to his apartment before the facts really hit home: he’d just ended his relationship with Buffy. Broken up, he guessed she’d say. It was real, permanent.
He’d never hold her, never kiss her again. He’d never be able to give her the ring that was still a half-formed idea in the back of his mind.
And it was his fault.
He felt like he was frozen. His face was perfectly calm as he took the elevator to his floor; his hands didn’t shake when he put the key in the lock.
But the whole time, it felt like being hollowed out. Shot full of anesthetic and told that when he could feel things again, his vital organs would be gone.
It didn’t hurt, but he knew it would. Somehow he felt that the longer this damnable numbness stayed, the worse it would be when he finally started feeling.
He sat down on his couch and stared at the carpet Buffy’d picked out until the sun set and the room went dark.
~*~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
*appears out of nowhere* I'm not dead! Yet, at any rate. I have, however, finished writing this damn thing, so expect frequent updates till the end. The reviews ya'll left were lovely--and yes, I'm a horrible person. Thank you!