Buffy had always thought that bad things didn’t happen to the so-called “pretty people” and the “gifted”, bad things only happened to those who weren’t together in some capacity. For instance, when she was younger, her pink knee-highs always fell down her legs half way through the day; she could never keep them up. The most popular girl in school though, the one that had seemingly everything going for her, was always able to keep her knee highs up all day and without falling once. Buffy had thought if she could just keep her knee- highs up all day, if she had the trendiest lunch box and the best lunches, her life would be perfect and nothing bad would ever happen to her. It wasn’t long before she was convinced she was just doomed on that front. And, she noted with some despondency, her mother was a big advocate of the ‘knee highs should never fall’, even when her knee-highs were falling down and apart all around her.
Consequently, just a few years back, Buffy read that that popular girl had killed herself.
Hurt and tragedy happened to people, no matter who you were or what you did. A woman could be a Cindy Crawford look alike and still not be able to snag the man of her dreams, because she had an ugly heart, or he was gay or any various reason there could be for a rejection like that. Celebrities were testament to it as well – it did not matter who they were, bad things still happened.
However, she was beginning to wonder if bad things ever happened to the wicked. Like say, Angel and Fred. The most she could hope for at that point was for them to find that they had nothing in common any longer and could barely stand the sight of the other. She wished bad things on them, oh boy did she. Mainly for Angel. Some kind of retribution for what she’d put up with – how she’d tried so hard to keep her knee-highs up for him. Her anger at him and mostly herself, knew no bounds it seemed. If she allowed herself to sit and really think about it, she stewed in it, and ended feeling completely disgusted by it.
Then, of course, there was Spike. He didn’t care if her knee-highs were up, down or even on. And he’d seen her every which way with them anyway. He had truly seen her at her absolute worst, at her lowest, and he was still there.
Well. Not so much now. After all, he had a date coming up. Tomorrow in fact. She had to laugh at herself, how she could go from urging him to go and truly believing it was the best thing for him, to feeling as though she could rip the tramp apart and make sarcastic comments in her head all day about Spike and his date. It wasn’t fair to him, so she kept it to herself, and she knew it wasn’t fair to the “date”, but hey, she was a woman and she could be catty. It was her right. That saying ‘If you love something set it free’ yadda, yadda, yadda, kept coming into her mind.
That was crap. Just because you set someone free doesn’t mean that even if they do love you, they will come back. It was a crap chute. Various factors, like pride, could keep one at bay no matter how much they love you. Or, hey, death. She almost snorted at that thought. Her humour had been quite dark as of late.
And besides – who was she in actuality setting free? Herself or Spike? She supposed she was setting Spike free, not with the hope that this would somehow prove he was hers, but to set him free because really – why would he want to be with such a fuck up as her to begin with? She’d caused him more misery than pleasure in the years she’d known him – not all her fault either. She still stuck by the fact that he’d never told her how he felt to begin with, ergo it wasn’t her fault that he’d carried this big torch around long before she really knew him. Really, she was setting him free of misery. He should be with someone that would love him and take him as he was, with someone that he didn’t have so much baggage with – and she did not mean Lindsey in that case. A fresh start all around was what they all needed.
Then there was the thought that she didn’t want to Spike to be with her, and for her to be with Spike, just because all points in the past pointed to that as a natural conclusion to this sordid tale. Did Spike want her simply because she’d been the unattainable ideal, and finally, he’d gotten her and now he couldn’t conceive of losing that which he’d waited and longed for for so long? And did she want Spike simply because he was the father of her daughter, and because she could kick him around and treat him like shit and he still wanted her? He’d been her confidant in her marriage to Angel, pre-Lindsey, and he’d been her confidant after her marriage dissolved. And the chasm of lies had lain between them, unchartered. There was a lot to pick through, and she didn’t to do so with a muddled brain full of the past and things that didn’t have to do with Spike at all. How would she be able to take care of him and their “relationship”, if she couldn’t take care of herself first? And was a relationship with him even in the cards at this point? Were they really well suited for one another or again, had circumstance made it seem that way?
“You’re thinking too much,” Lorne whispered to her and she smiled.
“Best to think too much than not at all. That’s how I spent most of my marriage with Angel after all,” Buffy replied.
“Some are going out after for drinks. I think you should go.”
“Oh, I should, huh?” Buffy grinned.
Lorne nodded, “Doctor’s orders.”
Buffy entered the house, feeling light and giggly. Coming into the living room where Spike was, she greeted him. “Hello. How was your night?”
He looked up at her, studying her. “Are you drunk?”
“Hardly. I had a couple drinks, but I’m fine.” She pointed at him, “You’re just not used to seeing me smile.”
He sighed and stood, “I have a recollection of you smiling, Buffy. As a matter of fact, many times, with me.”
“Buzz kill. Let’s not talk about that,” she said, frowning.
“Oh, so now it’s a buzz kill to talk about when we were together?” he snapped.
“No! I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that when we talk about that it leads to reminiscing about the past and then inevitably we go to all that other crap, and why can’t we be together now and it’s just. . . overdone. I’m not trying to be an asshole, here Spike. I’m just saying that we can have a conversation without it leading to . . . us.”
“There isn’t an us, remember?”
“You could tell me about the girl you’re going out with tomorrow. I don’t even know her name,” Buffy offered.
Spike made a face, “That’s right. Rub it in my face how much you don’t want me.”
“Argh! I’m not trying to do that! God, do you think I really want to hear about her? No, I don’t. I’m jealous, okay? I am, but Christ Spike—“
He grabbed her then, effectively stopping her tirade, and kissed her senseless. “God, I’ve missed you,” he breathed and swept her up fully into his arms, his mouth taking chart down her throat. “Tell me not to go. Tell me you want me; tell me, and I won’t go.”
She stared up at him, at his eyes so full of passion and she was so tempted to do it. But God, hadn’t she made so many decisions for him in the past? All she wanted was to do right by him for once. So, she’d put it in his court. “Spike...if you don’t want to go, then don’t go. If you want to try, then you should.”
He released her, “What is this? You have an opinion about everything under the sun but when I ask you for one, you can’t give it to me? You tell me everything else! What to do, how to be...now I want you to say something and you can’t. What the fuck?”
“I don’t want to do that anymore. It’s a habit I’m trying to kick. I want.... Spike, I want...”
“Just spit it out, Buffy.”
“I want to be your friend. We’ve been many things to each other and we even gave friendship a shot once or twice, but I really want to do that.”
“Have you met someone?”
“What? No! I haven’t and I don’t want... Spike, I’m trying to do right by you. I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to fight anymore. Please...” She felt near tears and could hear the plead in her voice.
“I only agreed to go out with her to make you jealous.”
“I figured,” she said and smiled softly. “It’s all right.”
“I thought you’d tell me not to go.”
“Do you want to go at all? Even a little bit?”
“Maybe. I’m curious, I guess.”
“Then you should go. Maybe you’ll at least make a new friend.”
He nodded, staring down at the floor for a minute and then back up at her. “You want to be friends, huh?”
She nodded. Smiling she added, “Hey, it’s at least a step in the right direction. I no longer want to maim you, so there’s a bright side, right?”
Despite how much she knew he didn’t want to laugh, he chuckled.
“Maybe we could...start over? All new and fresh. Like we just met almost.”
“How is that possible? We have a daughter, Buffy.”
“I know, but I was thinking we could get to know each other again without past grievances getting in the way. Have those talks we used to have without the Angel drama.”
He smiled. “Never thought I’d hear that. ‘Angel drama’.”
“Well, he ruled my life once upon a time. I still have crap to work through, but I’m getting there.”
“I make things hard for you, don’t I?” he asked quietly. “Always with the pushing.”
“I won’t lie, it does make things harder because I feel I’m constantly put in the position to be the bad guy, and to hurt you, and I don’t want to.”
He looked at her, his eyes alight with wonder. “I see how you’ve been changing Buffy. I can see that you’re happier and less angrier.”
“Either that or I’m just getting better at hiding the anger,” Buffy laughed.
“See, before, you couldn’t even make a joke about it.”
“I’m trying my best. I figure I must be healing if I can inject some humour into all of that crap, right?”
“Right. I’m just afraid that you’ll want to try one day with someone else.”
“I can’t see that happening any time soon, trust me. So, can we, you know...try?”
He nodded and stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m William, but all my friends call me Spike.”
Buffy smiled broadly and took his hand, shaking it. “I’m Buffy. You can just call me Buffy.”