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I am so sorry about the lack of updates! Things are beyond crazy right now, but I will never abandon one of my stories, they're just taking longer than usual for me to get some time to write. I hope you all are still enjoying it!
Chapter 7 – Food For Thought


Spike wasn’t late. He was actually early, beating her to the coffee shop with time to spare. Buffy hesitantly walked toward the back of the shop, sitting across from him and folding her hands in front of her, trying not to nervously fidget with them like she really wanted to do.

Both stayed quiet for a long moment, each focusing anywhere but on the other person.

“So…” Buffy began, looking down at the table.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?”

Buffy looked up, stunned at the question. “What do you think?” she asked, her lips setting in a firm line. “You fall into my life yesterday, completely out of the blue, and you just expect me to…” Trailing off, knowing that she was being unfair, Buffy nervously pulled her hands from the table surface, resting them in her lap. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted in a tired voice. “It was such a shock to see you at all, and then on top of that, I just let it slip and… I didn’t really get a chance to process it all. I’d like to think that I would’ve told you, but I’m not going to pretend that the idea of you finding out didn’t scare me.”

“What’re you talking about, love?” he asked, leaning across the table.

“How am I supposed to know you won’t try and take him away from me?” she asked, looking up at him with a pained expression.

“That’s not my intention,” he said, shaking his head, seeing her relax slightly. “I’m not heartless, Buffy.”

“I-I don’t… That’s not what I think,” she said, shaking her head as she watched him.

“Can I take your order?”

Blinking at the new voice, Buffy took a deep breath, trying to get her nerves and emotions under control as Spike ordered lunch for himself.

“And for you, ma’am?”

Glancing up at the waitress, Buffy nearly shook her head. “Coffee,” she murmured a moment later, knowing that she would need something.

Both sat in silence for several moments, both looking at anything but the person across the table from them.

“You should eat something,” Spike said a moment later.

“I don’t think my stomach would agree with that sentiment,” she replied, trying to force a smile.

“Why did you leave that night, Buffy?” he asked, causing her eyes to practically snap to his, taken by surprise at the new turn in the conversation.

Staring at him as she tried to think of a valid excuse, Buffy studied the sharply-angled cheekbones, the full lips that she remembered all too well, in spite of her brief acquaintance with them.

“It just never would’ve worked,” she said suddenly, blurting out the first thing that came to her, hoping to steer her mind from the dangerous course it seemed to be set on. “We don’t even know each other… We don’t…”

“I’ve thought of you, you know?” he said, looking at her, nervously biting his lip. “I’ve never been that… affected,” he continued, choosing his words carefully.

“Spike, don’t do this,” she said, a panicked look in her eyes as she shook her head. “There’s nothing between us-”

“Nothing but a son,” he protested, causing Buffy to flinch as she looked around the coffee shop, seeing a few eyes turn in their direction as a result of the sudden outburst.

Seeing the waitress approach with her coffee and Spike’s sandwich, Buffy avoided his eyes as she stared at the mug placed in front of her. Trailing her fingers around the rim of the cup, her teeth worried her bottom lip. “What’re you going to tell Anya?” she asked a moment later.

“The truth,” Spike replied with a convincing nod, shoving the sandwich away from him, obviously having lost his appetite. “Just give me a minute to come up with it.” Seeing Buffy glaring at him from across the table, he rolled his eyes. “Only kidding, love. I’ll think of some way to break the news to her… Wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t want you working on the wedding, though.”

Buffy briefly closed her eyes, thinking about what losing that commission could mean for Jordan’s future.

“Hey, now, what’s with that face?”

“What? Nothing,” she said, shaking her head as she turned her gaze back to him. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not a nothing kind of face,” he said, leaning over the table, tilting his head in her direction. “What’s on your mind, Summers?”

“I was just… the money was…” Trailing off, Buffy clenched her jaw in frustration, unable to raise her eyes to Spike’s, not wanting to see the look of superiority – or worse – pity.

“I can help you out with the money part,” he said, watching her expression change, seeing every nuance that seemed to cross her face.

“That’s not necessary, I-”

“Buffy,” he interrupted in a firm voice. “I’m going to support my son.”

“Spike-”

“I’m not negotiating on that point.”

Buffy sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with him. She hadn’t known him for very long, but she had the feeling that he was as stubborn as she was. Glancing around the interior of the small café, she did what she could to keep her eyes averted, not wanting to look in his direction. She knew that staying in his presence too long was going to wreak havoc on her imagination. It had become painfully clear that seeing Spike in a darkened bar was a completely different experience than seeing him in the harsh light of day. And the difference was tormenting her resolve to keep a professional amount of distance between them. Especially the more that she saw of him.

Fidgeting nervously in her seat, Buffy was unaccustomed to the sudden nerves that seemed to take over her body. She knew she had to get out of there before he did something that would make her want to leap across the table and say ‘to hell with the consequences’.

Spike offered her a soft, almost shy smile before glancing at the table. Looking up at her a moment later, he raised an eyebrow in question, his smirk firmly in place.

Like that.

Bolting to her feet, Buffy gasped as she stumbled into the waitress who had stepped up to the table, her arm nearly sending the tray that the other woman was holding crashing to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said, helping the girl regain her balance as Spike stood up to take the tray.

Standing in front of him for a long moment as the waitress put their order on the table and made a hasty retreat, Buffy nearly closed her eyes when she felt Spike’s ice blue gaze settle on her. “I better go,” she mumbled, walking past him, inhaling sharply when he grabbed her arm, refusing to let her pass.

“Sit down, Buffy,” he said in a low voice.

Buffy knew that he expected no argument when he used that tone. It spoke of authority and years of getting what he wanted when the timber of his voice seemed to change. And she knew that he was completely unprepared for her pulling away from him, firm resolve practically etched in her features. “I have to go,” she said, not waiting for an argument as she walked out of the café.

Spike muttered a curse under his breath before tossing some money on the table for the untouched food. Turning and practically running through the door, he chased after her, catching up to her nearly a block away. Grabbing her arm and jerking her into an alley, Spike clenched his jaw, ignoring her cry of outrage at the abrupt treatment.

Staring at Buffy for a long minute, he took in everything about her. The windswept blonde hair, curling softly around her shoulders, the eyes that were currently flashing with repressed anger, causing him to smile at the realization that he was the cause of all of her pent-up hostility, and the way her lips seemed to tighten and relax, as if she was restraining the urge to yell at him. Realizing that he was the one who had the right to do the yelling, Spike narrowed his eyes, remembering his purpose for chasing after her as he opened his mouth to begin what he predicted to be a very heated argument.

And he kissed her.








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