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Thanks everyone!
Chapter Eight

Feeling much more rested the next morning, Buffy made a plan. If her cheating husband was going to leave her and their family, then she wasn't going to make it very comfortable for him to do so. Her first plan of attack was to go to the bank and transfer funds from their checking account to her savings. She'd put Angel's name on her saving account should anything happen to her and he needed to get to her money, but she'd never told him she'd done it. That information was with her mother.

One can never be too cautious.

Her next step was to look into some daycare's in the area. She was going to have to get a job. The money in the account was only going to take her so far, and who knew when Angel would start paying child support—Although, did he really need to now? No. But he was going to have to give her something from their divorce. Not that she really wanted anything from him at this point, but if it made him suffer, then she was all on board.

She stopped putting her earrings in and stared at herself in the mirror. At this time, she would be talking with Angel as he got ready for work. They'd discuss what cases he was working on that day, what she was planning to do with Lindsey and ask what he'd want for dinner. Mundane, yes, not very exciting, definitely not but . . . but it was routine and it had been her life.

She sat down on the vanity chair and let the tears come. It was scary how things could change so fast. Spike had said she hadn't been happy for a long time. Well, that was only partly true. She'd been . . . content. Maybe that was even too strong a word. She hadn't been jumping up and down for joy, but she hadn't been miserable either. She had a nice home, a daughter she adored and a husband she loved. True, she still had her doubts and fears creep in from time to time and they played with her mind until she thought she'd scream, but then he'd walk through the door and kiss her and she'd shove it aside. She tried not to dwell on the things she would have liked. Such as a career of her own, maybe some more excitement and spice in their marriage and for Angel to have been more attentive to her and Lindsey than his job, but that was the agreement they'd had when she'd gotten pregnant. Angel had made it clear that he wanted to wait a while before kids, but then . . . then she'd slept with Spike.

She supposed Spike didn't want to hear about how guilty she'd felt for what she'd done. She lived with it everyday and she knew, she KNEW that lying to Angel, to Spike and mostly to Lindsey was horrible of her. She'd been petrified of losing Angel. And while Spike invoked things in her that night that she wanted to forget about and didn't want to admit to, she knew that her fear and misery over Angel possibly cheating on her a continent away had been a driving force for her to seek comfort in Spike's arms. She was desperate to feel loved and cared for; desperate to get the images of her husband cheating on her out of her mind.

Fear and desperation made you do crazy things. Add a broken heart to the mix and you got sheer chaos.

"Buffy, you up?" Spike asked through the door, knocking softly.

She wiped at her eyes and stood, finishing her task of putting on her
earrings. "Yep, I'm up, come in," she called to him.

He opened the door and came in hesitantly. He looked almost nervous.
That was a first. "Hi."

"Hi," she said and pulled her hair back in a bun.

"Where are you going today?" he asked curiously and sat down on her bed.
She could see him with his head tilted peering at her in the large mirror she
was in front of. Lindsey had the same move when she was trying to figure
something out. She smiled. So much like her father, she was.

"I'm sorry about my outburst last night," he said softly.

Buffy froze. Spike was apologizing? She turned to face him, not sure what
to say.

He looked up at her, his eyebrows knit. "You've been crying."

She nodded, "Yes, I was."


He nodded and looked down, "Thinking of Angel."

"Yes."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, popping his head up.

She looked at him incredulously, "Do you really want to hear about it?"

He raked a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Not gonna sit here and lie
to you and tell you that I particularly enjoy the fact that you're mourning
Angel's departure, but on the other hand, he was your husband and you did
love him."

She stared at him, "Lindsey's still sleeping right?"

"Yeah. Listen, Buffy, last night, yesterday . . . for the past couple days
we've said some hurtful things to each other. We've gone a few rounds and
been at each other's throats and while verbally sparring with you has
always been fun, these past few days haven't been fun. It's been bloody
hard. I'm man enough to admit that I've been an insensitive prat about
things. Your husband takes off on you—"

Buffy winced.

"Sorry," Spike said, wincing too. "I guess this whole mess just brought out
some things between us – all of us, including Angel – that we've never dealt
with. That we've just kept hidden away, hoping they'd go away."

Buffy nodded slowly, staring off into space. "Sometimes the skeletons in
your closet don't want to stay in there anymore."

"Yep. Things have a way of coming back at you the more you try to shove
them down."

"So when we're done facing those things that don't want to be ignored
anymore, will things get back to normal again?" Buffy asked in a small
voice.

Spike shook his head sympathetically, and stood. "I don't things will ever
be back to normal, do you?"

"Wishful thinking."

"He's not coming back, Buffy."

"How do you know?" she asked, her voice rising with hurt.

"Do you really want him back? He LEFT Buffy. He took off with another
woman. Do you really want him to come back after that?"

Buffy stayed silent and still for a few beats and then said on a whisper, "I
want him to suffer."

"Anger phase in effect?" he asked lightly, smiling slightly.

"I've been angry a lot these past couple days Spike, in case you hadn't
noticed."

"So have I."

"You must have really cared more about her than you've let on—"

"No, God, Buffy, it has nothing to do with her," Spike sighed, frustrated
and shook his head. "I hate that he's hurt you like this. I hate that I . . . I
feel so guilty because I'm the cause for it. I brought her here; I didn't know
things would turn out, how they'd take such a wrong turn with you and I at
each other's throats and your hurt and anger. . . And I get it Buffy; I get
what's happening to you at the same time I want to wring your lovely neck
for all this time and torture."

"You couldn't have known that this would happen, Spike. I know I blamed
you for it and I yelled at you for it, but you didn't know. It's just you're here
and Angel's not and he's the one I really want—"

She found herself in Spike's arms before she could finish her sentence. He
held her tight and she swore he was crying. "I know. I'm sorry," he
whispered before releasing her just as quickly as he'd grabbed her and
practically running out her room.

She blinked and the door shut behind him. "I'm not really sure," she said to
the empty room, "If my life has turned into a really bad after school special
or a prime time drama. Oh God. Am I a ‘Desperate Housewife'?"

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

The day had been draining. Buffy had so much to think about and plan for. Having a partner there to lean on and take some responsibility was something she'd taken for granted at times. She would be the first to pat any single mother on the back.

There was Spike to help, but she wasn't putting all her eggs in that basket.
Or, at all. She wasn't about to rely on him just because he was there and the
father to her daughter. However odd that sounded. She needed to do this
on her own. Stand on her own two feet and all that rot. No matter how hard
it was, or how much her heart was broken, and no matter how much she
wanted to crawl in her bed and sleep until things were back to normal.

Spike was right. Normal wasn't going to happen again. And, did she want
Angel back after this? Her heart and mind seemed to be at war with each
other. She just wasn't sure which one was saying which anymore.

Finding a job loomed before her and she was petrified. She'd graduated five
years before with a B.A. in Art History. Her plan had been to acquire her
Master's and then in turn teach Art History at the college level. She'd quit
the Master's program shortly after becoming pregnant with Lindsey. She'd
been such a mess from keeping the lie of Lindsey's paternity and the guilt
of what she'd done, that she felt her time was better suited to focusing on
her marriage. If she'd known what would have happened, she wouldn't
have been so quick to stop. No, instead she would have done what she could
and gone back instead of being the woman behind the scenes for Angel.

She felt pathetic.

Entering the house, she heard Lindsey's feet pitter pattering towards her.
Spike had told her that he'd take care of Lindsey while she did what she
needed to do.

"Mommy! Daddy called!" Lindsey said excitedly, running into Buffy's
arms. Buffy had knelt down and nearly fell over both from Lindsey's news
and from the impact of the hug.

She looked up to see Spike following behind looking . . . disturbed.

"He did? What did he say?" she asked Lindsey, feigning excitement. Inside
her heart had dropped to her stomach.

"He said he loved me and he'd see me soon. I'm going to draw him a
picture okay, Mommy?"

"Sure baby."

Satisfied, Lindsey ran off. Buffy stood on shaky legs. "Did you talk to him?"


Spike nodded, "I did. Told him he was a bloody bastard for what he did."

"Did he say where he was?"

"Apparently they're still on the road."

"Still on the road? What the fuck are they doing? Taking a road trip? God,
what about his goddamn job—he's a partner now—"

"He'll get a job anywhere Buffy. You know that."

"That's not the point!" Buffy exclaimed. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing much . . . he didn't want to talk to me much after I yelled at him.
He said there's a check in the mail."

Buffy shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. She looked up
at him. "So, when and how do you want to tell Lindsey you're her father?"





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