Buffy looked up at her receptionist with a smile. “You sure about that, Tara?” she asked, picking up the chart and walking toward the door of the examination room.
“It’s just… this one… He’s a little different.”
Pausing as she reached the room, Buffy turned around with a raised eyebrow. “How so?” she asked quietly, not wanting the patient to overhear.
“Well… for one… he doesn’t have a kid with him.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Well, not the first time for one of those,” she said with a laugh, lightly knocking on the door and letting herself in. “So, Mr… Williams,” Buffy said, studying the chart. “What seems to be…” Trailing off as she looked up, she felt short of breath looking into the eyes of the man she’d thought she’d never see in person again.
“Hello, Buffy,” he said quietly.
Jaw setting in a firm line, her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, folding her arms over her chest, feeling the need to take on a more defensive stance. “Blake Williams?” she replied, raising an eyebrow.
“I figured if William Blake was the name on that chart, you’d never let me in the building,” he said softly.
“I can think of a few good reasons why that would be true,” she said, her eyes glittering with repressed anger.
Pushing himself away from the small examination table, Spike slowly walked toward her, cringing when she stepped away from him, flattening her back against the door. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said through gritted teeth, turning around and grabbing the doorknob. “You can show yourself out.”
“Buffy, wait,” Spike said, slamming his hand against the door before she could open it, feeling short of breath that he was so close to her after being apart from her for so long.
“Wait? For what?” she replied, her eyes flashing as she looked at him. “You? Sorry, Spike, been there, done that, bought the autobiography of the big movie star. Well, actually, we both know that was a lie. As soon as you were out of my life, I sure as hell wasn’t going to spend my hard-earned money to support you, of all people. Did that enough while we were dating.”
“I deserve that,” he said quietly.
“No,” she replied, breathing heavily, the feelings that had been repressed for years finally coming to the surface. “What you deserve, you don’t want to know.”
“Look, I know you’re hurt-”
“Hurt?” she replied with a scoffing laugh. “Try pissed off.”
“Buffy-”
“How’s Drusilla?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting her chin when he looked away in shame.
“I have a feeling you know what happened,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” she said with a cold smile. “But why should I be the only one who feels like shit?”
Jerking the door open, Buffy ignored the sound of her ex-boyfriend calling her name as she walked through the hallways of her practice, reaching her office and slamming the door behind her. Leaning against it, she tried to focus on her breathing, blinking the tears away as her hands came up to cover her face.
“You know how much I love you. But this… it’s just not right for us.”
“What… what are you talking about? Not right for us? Spike, we… you and I are…”
“We’re finished.”
“This is because of the show, isn’t it?” she asked, her tone taking on an indifferent quality. “You’re ready to walk away from everything that we have because you’re a success now.”
“That’s not… entirely true.”
“Then let me ‘true’ it up,” she said angrily. “I’m guessing that after all of the time and support I’ve given you, helping you make it in this town, helping you land this show, you’re ready to move on to someone else who can further your career. Does that sum it up?”
“Buffy-”
“Who is she?”
“It’s not-”
“Who. Is. She?”
“Love, I-”
“Don’t pull any of your acting tricks with me,” she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. “A man never leaves a relationship unless he has someone else waiting for him – I want to know who she is.”
“It’s better if you don’t know,” he admitted quietly.
The sound of her hand striking his cheek seemed to echo through the small apartment. Seeing the shocked expression on his face, Buffy breathed heavily, trying to control her emotions, not wanting to spill anymore tears in front of him. “I want you gone,” she said in a menacing whisper, her jaw clenching as she stared at him for a long moment before turning and grabbing her keys. “Don’t be here when I get back.”
“Buffy, love-”
“If you ever call me love again, you won’t live long enough to enjoy your new fame,” she said, her eyes flashing as Spike took a step away from her. “I want you out. Now.”
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Buffy tried to control her breathing, nervously worrying her bottom lip as she blinked back the remaining tears. “It’s been four years,” she muttered to herself. “Get your act together.”
Turning around and opening the door, she wasn’t surprised to see Spike walking toward her. Ignoring him as she tightened her grip on the clipboard in her hands, she turned away from him when he attempted to grab her arm, obviously wanting her to stop and listen to him. Walking back to the front of the office, Buffy set the chart on Tara’s desk. “Any other patients today?” she asked, her shoulders tensing when Spike walked up behind her.
“Just one,” Tara replied, glancing nervously at her boss. “Unscheduled. A four year old with a cold.”
“Alright, why don’t you file these and head home,” Buffy said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves as she gestured to a few papers on Tara’s desk before glancing at Spike over her shoulder. “Mr. Williams can show himself out.”
* * * * *
“Seven milliliters of that prescription twice a day for two weeks and he’ll be feeling better in no time,” Buffy told the anxious mother as she led her out of the office with the little boy in tow.
“Thank you so much for working us in, Dr. Summers,” the mother said with a grateful smile.
“It’s really not a problem,” Buffy replied, ruffling the boy’s hair as she held open the front door for them. “If he’s not better soon, don’t hesitate to call.”
“We will. Thank you.”
Closing the door behind them, Buffy flipped the locks as she turned out the lights, finally allowing the draining day to catch up with her as she shrugged out of the white coat, straightening her black pants and black turtleneck as she turned out the remaining lights in the building. Walking into her office, she hung up the coat in her closet, checking her watch as she sat down in her comfortable desk chair, not wanting to make the long drive home the way she was feeling.
“Really should be more careful.”
Buffy gasped, immediately spinning around and jumping to her feet at the sound of his voice.
“Not bothering to check around when you lock up. Any Big Bad can walk in off the street and get in here.”
“Unfortunately for me, it’s just the Little Bad,” she replied, grabbing her thick winter coat out of the closet, her eyes widening when Spike snatched it out of her hands. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she cried, reaching for it, her eyes darkening when Spike held it out of reach, lightly pushing her against the wall behind her. Breathing deeply, Buffy’s jaw tightened as she watched him carefully. “Not to give either of us a case of déjà vu, but I’ll risk it – get out now.”
“So that’s it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “We can’t even talk anymore?”
“Yeah, because the last few years have been so good to us, talking-wise,” she replied sarcastically. “Strange how you didn’t develop this strange need to talk when you weren’t being busted for drug possession and simultaneously arrested for drunk driving.”
“It wasn’t my fault, I-”
“Oh, trust me, I’m well aware of whose fault it was,” Buffy said, staring at him with nothing but contempt in her eyes. “But it’s your own damn fault that you put yourself in the position to get caught.”
“It is,” he said quietly, nodding his agreement.
Buffy paused. The Spike she knew was never so quick to admit his mistakes.
Spike saw the slight softening in her eyes, the subtle relaxation of her jaw as she stared at him. Feeling the first glimmer of hope, he clenched his jaw when Buffy pushed him away, walking a few feet away, needing her distance from him as she hugged her arms around her body.
“So, what’s with the sudden need for nostalgia, Spike? Drusilla’s practically wrecked your career and sent you to rehab, and your agent is telling you to get in a stable relationship with someone who’s healthy for your career?” Spike sighed, looking at the ceiling as Buffy continued, “And let’s think,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin in mock thought. “Who was it that supported you the most on your road to stardom? Who put her own dreams on hold for you to live up to yours? Oh. That’s right. Me.”
Spike nearly shrunk under the withering gaze she shot at him. “I’m not here because of what you could do for me,” he began slowly.
“That’s good. ‘Cause, I gotta tell you, right now? Not really feeling too generous in the Spike department,” she replied with a sardonic laugh.
Unable to say anything, Spike took a hesitant step forward, feeling the smallest victory when she didn’t move away. “Look, I just… I’ve missed you. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he said, seeing her closed off expression as she watched him.
“How convenient.”
“Damn it, Buffy! Don’t you think if I wanted a nice, safe, successful woman, I wouldn’t go crawling back to my ex?” he asked in exasperation. “It’s not about who you are, it’s about you!”
“And what have you done in all these years to warrant any type of second chance on your part?” she asked, studying him as his shoulders sagged.
“Nothing,” he whispered, looking away from her accusing gaze. “Absolutely nothing.”
Buffy looked away when he wordlessly handed her the coat in his hands, brushing a chaste kiss to her forehead before turning to leave.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he said quietly, risking a glance in her direction before opening the door.
“Is this the part where I make the big dramatic plea for you not to leave?” she asked, her voice still holding a fraction of the contempt that she felt.
“This is the part where I leave you to live your life,” he said, turning toward her, sighing quietly to himself. “I haven’t done right by you. No reason for you to think that anything has changed. You deserve more. Deserve better,” he grudgingly corrected.
“You’re right,” Buffy replied, throwing the coat onto the chair by the door. “I don’t just forgive and forget. I’ll never be able to forget what it was like to walk away from you.”
Spike nodded, taking a deep breath, expecting some type of verbal lashing from her.
“I want the truth,” she whispered, trying to control the emotions in her voice.
“You’ll get it,” he replied in a tone that told her she would get honesty from him at all costs.
“I know you, Spike,” she said softly, taking a step toward him. “Or at least… I did. And you don’t leave the people you love. How am I supposed to believe that what you felt for me was anything resembling love?”
“Because you know me,” he said quietly. “You know who I am. Know that I have plans that never go through. Know that I make rushed decisions that haunt me in everything that I do. You know me,” he repeated with more conviction.
“And it took you this long to realize it was a mistake?”
“Took me this long to get up the nerve to come crawling back to you.”
“Drusilla?” she asked in a cold voice.
“If you kept up with any part of it… we were in a relationship, but not for long. The rest was nothing more than a publicity stunt. And not good publicity, at that.”
“And you thought you could come back here and just… be with me?” she asked in shock.
“First time for everything,” he muttered to himself.
“I’ll never be able to trust you again,” she said, shaking her head as she turned away from him, stopping when he grabbed her arm.
“I’m not asking for trust,” he pleaded. “Not yet. I’m just asking…”
“What?” Buffy finally asked, nearing the end of her patience.
“I’m just asking for you to go to dinner with me… sometime.”
Searching his eyes for a long minute, Buffy slowly closed the distance between them, her lips hesitantly brushing against his, her hand hovering close to his face, pulling away before she willingly touched him, seeing the confusion in his eyes.
“What was that?”
“A test,” Buffy said, quietly, turning away from him to pull on her coat.
“A test?” he replied skeptically, seeing her turn to face him, flipping her hair over the collar.
“If I’m even going to give you a shadow of a chance, I want to know right off the bat if there’s something between us,” she said, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.
Spike blinked at the almost calculated response, surprised by the coolness of her tone. “I’m guessing that would be a firm ‘no’ in my favor. Or rather… in your favor.”
Buffy didn’t say anything, grabbing her keys and purse, never turning toward him.
“Right, then,” he muttered, turning toward the hallway, taking a few steps before he heard her voice.
“Where to?”
Spike nearly whirled around to face her, a look of disbelief on his face. “Beg your pardon?”
Walking toward him, Buffy stopped with a heavy sigh, looking into his eyes. “I’m not saying I’m ready to start something again. I’m not even saying I’m ready for dinner with you. But… as long as you know that this is going to be a long uphill battle…”
“I can live with that,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Buffy sucked in a sharp breath, reaching out and threading her fingers through Spike’s, swallowing nervously at the simple gesture. “Guess there’s nothing to stop us from getting coffee or something. As long as you know-”
“Just coffee,” he said, giving her a relieved smile. “For now.”
Looking up at him, allowing herself a glimmer of hope as she looked into his eyes, Buffy easily got lost in the blue depths, lightly squeezing his hand in a meager sign of hope. “For now.”