Spike nodded, “Rainbow it is.”
“Good. I’ll call her when we—I—get home.”
Spike smirked, “Well, technically it is a ‘we’. It’s where you and Lindsey live. You don’t have to fret over the details, pet. I know where I’m at in all this.”
Curious, and knowing she was probably going to regret it, Buffy turned to him. “And where is that do you think?”
“The dog house,” he said simply.
She sighed heavily and looked away from him, shaking her head. “Not exactly, but if that’s what you want to think, then fine.”
“What else am I supposed to think?”
“That I’m trying to make things better? That I’m trying to make it so you’re not in the ‘dog house’. Just because I don’t want to fight anymore doesn’t mean that it’s all your fault.”
“But it was because of my lie isn’t it?”
She stared at him incredulously, “Well, yes. And this,” she said, gesturing between the two of them, “is exactly why I’m doing it. I’m just tired of hashing and re-hashing of you thinking the worst of me—“
“And you thinking the worst of me. . . “
“Yes.” She nodded, “All of it. You’ll be surprised to know that I don’t blame you for all the crap between us, and that I know I have to take responsibility for some of it. Not all, but some. You accuse me of making you the enemy so much, well you know what? You’re not much better when it comes to me.”
Spike sighed, “I’m sorry, you’re right.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” he replied, nodding. “I mean it. It’s just . . . being out like this with you and Lindsey. It’s like we’re a family you know? If all that other crap could just go away...we’d have something here.”
“But the other crap is still there. It doesn’t just go away. Everytime we turn around, there it is. As much as I’d like to shove it all under the rug and continue on, I just can’t do that anymore. And it’s not just you, Spike. It’s everything. Like, say, my entire marriage with Angel.”
Spike grumbled, “That bloody ponce...”
”Yeah, him. I know you don’t like it, but it’s true. And it’s not about what you like or don’t like here, Spike.”
“Thanks, Buffy, that felt nice,” he snapped sarcastically.
“It’s the truth. This isn’t about you hating the fact that Angel was my husband and the fact that I did in fact love him. This isn’t about you Well, not that part anyway. A lot of it is me and him and me . . . “
“Where do I fit in, in all of this Buffy? Does it mean that when the issues have been worked out and we’re done being angry, we’re gonna be together?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have that answer. I don’t want to say yes if it ends up being no. And I don’t want to say no ...I don’t know, Spike. We’ll always be together due to Lindsey, but as far as a relationship like before....” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage for what he had to tell him. This new thing, honesty, was hard. “I don’t know if I could trust you enough to be with you.”
Silence fell and it seemed her hearing was tuned into two sounds: Lindsey playing and Spike’s reaction to what she’d just said.
He said nothing though. He got up from his place beside her and walked away from her, to the other side of the room, completely out of sight.
Taking a steadying breath to keep from crying again, Buffy focused in on her daughter and glanced at her watch. Another ten minutes and they’d go home.
Once they’d arrived back at the homestead, Lindsey had insisted on showing Spike a drawing she’d done that morning and barreled up the stairs with Spike following behind.
He hadn’t spoken to her since they’d left McDonalds. Not unless he had to and it lacked the warmth he usually had with her. She felt at a loss, she realized. One part of her wanted to take back what she’d said and the other knew she couldn’t. It had been the truth. Sometimes, the truth hurt.
She knew Spike regretted what he did, but she had to wonder if he regretted it for all the wrong reasons. If he understood how she felt, if he felt guilt through empathy or if he felt guilt through being caught in his lie. Maybe he didn’t even know anymore, but that was his thing to figure out, not hers to figure out for him. She had enough on her plate at the moment.
There was a marked difference between Spike and Angel though. Angel was thoughtless and unconcerned with others until their feelings and wants affected him. Spike had proven he cared about her feelings more than once, but it was through that one lie that it had all unraveled and obliterated all those other times he’d been concerned for her and her feelings.
That was the thing about lying. It destroyed everything built, and everything that could have been built. It wiped out and spread like wildfire through everything, cheapening it and making it dull and lifeless. Lying never did anything except benefit the liar in the long run, no matter what they told themselves to convince themselves it was for the other person.
Uh oh. Mood swing up ahead! She’d gone from being on an even, contemplative and calm heel, to feeling angry all over again. Batten down the hatches boys, Buffy was feeling ready to blow!
The phone ringing jarred her from the bubbling anger and resentment rising forth. “Hello?” she nearly barked into the phone.
“Whoa. I’m sensing hostility.”
“Lorne?”
“Buffy?”
She had to smile, “What are you doing? How did you get my number?”
“Psychic, remember? Actually, did you know they made this book, a rather large and thick book...it has two kinds of pages in it. Yellow and White. I found you in white.”
“Hey, I think I’ve heard of those!” Buffy said, giggling.
“Well, that sounded a lot better than getting barked at when you answered.”
“I was having a mood swing,” Buffy said, sighing and rubbing her forehead.
“Talk to Spike?”
“Yeah, and – why are you calling?”
“I was concerned. You mentioned going home to talk with Spike and I wanted to know how it went.”
“Oh. Well, it went well. . . surprisingly. Well, I mean, it went back and forth.”
“Hence the need to spend some time apart.”
“Right. Exactly. Lorne?”
“Yes buttercup?”
“Buttercup?” she giggled again.
“Just came out. I have nicknames for those I consider kindred spirits.”
“Aw, thanks.”
“So, you were going to ask me something?”
“Yeah, um . . . Can I...can I see you?”
“You mean you want to see me as a patient with me as your doctor.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, I just thought maybe you could benefit from having someone to talk to.”
“I really, really could.”
“All right, when do you want to see me?”
“How about you give me a time that’s after five and I’ll work it out from there.”
“Sounds good sweetness. How about five-thirty tomorrow evening?”
“Okay, something further away. Give me at least two days to find a baby-sitter.”
“Okay, two days from now, Thursday.”
”Okay, I’m there. Just need directions.”
After she’d hung up the phone with Lorne, she took a deep cleansing breath and turned to find Spike standing there, glaring at her.
“Who the fuck is Lorne?” he asked angrily.
“He’s the guy who runs group,” she told him calmly.
“Oh? Is he the one that gave you all the ideas about how to handle me?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Cut the stupid jealousy Spike.”
“I thought you didn’t want anyone right now? I thought you were all ‘dried up’?”
“I am. Not that I need to explain myself to you or anyone, but Lorne is not only a friend, but now my therapist, and not that it’s any of your business, but he’s gay!” She was seething in rage. The last thing she wanted to deal with was his jealousy bullshit. “Can you please get out now?”
“Buffy—“
“Please, leave.”
Jaw clenching, Spike turned on heel and strode out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
“Momma? Was Daddy mad at you?” Lindsey asked coming around the corner.
“No, baby, Daddy is fine. Did you show him your picture? Did he like it?”
“Yup,” Lindsey said, nodding, but looking wary. “Momma?”
”Yes, baby?”
“Can we watch a movie together?”
“Sure, what do you want to watch?”
“Snow White.”
“Okay, why don’t we get some snacks first then okay? I’m just going to call Miss Tara first okay?”
“Sure thing, Momma.”
One thing Buffy did not want to do was subject her daughter to the strained and argumentative relationship between her and Spike. This is the first day of the rest of your life, she reminded herself.