Buffy walked up to the door of Anya’s catering and deli business with determined steps, her head held high. It belied the fact that her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was so nervous about facing her one time best friend, that she felt as if she were going to throw up.
Pushing the door open, she found Anya’s deli staff completing orders of customers, helping some select sandwiches and various desserts.
Looking up from behind the glass counter, Ryan, Anya’s assistant waved to her. “She’s out back,” he told her.
She smiled, mouthed ‘thanks’ and marched out back. Swinging the door open, she found Anya screaming at an employee, a new one apparently, as she didn’t recognize him. He stared at Anya in a mixture of fear and – lust? Interesting.
Anya’s head snapped to Buffy when she heard the door swing closed and she glared at Buffy. “What do you want?”
“I – I have a business proposition for you,” Buffy stammered.
Anya turned back to her employee, “You may leave now, Justin.”
He nodded, smirked at her slightly, and then walked away.
“Bad day?” Buffy asked, once Justin was out the door.
Anya took a deep breath and turned to her, “He’s new and cocky. Thinks he knows everything and well, he doesn’t. I just had to set him straight.”
“I think he likes you.”
Anya narrowed her eyes at Buffy, “Trying to make yourself feel better for stealing my boyfriend?”
“I didn’t – Okay, I realize it looks that way, but it didn’t happen that way, Anya.”
“So you didn’t jump in the sack with him right after he dumped me?” Anya asked sarcastically.
“Anya, I want to work through this somehow, do you think we could—that you could listen to me?”
Anya looked away.
“You’re my best friend,” Buffy began, “You have been with me through the worst time of my life and you helped me. You supported me and picked me up when I couldn’t pick myself up. I know that if it were me, I would be beside myself in anger—“
“Doyle kissed me once.”
Buffy felt a dagger go through her heart and a ringing started in her ears. “What?”
“I lied about that, of course, but it hurts doesn’t it?”
Buffy was trying desperately to gain her equilibrium back after that, telling herself that she deserved that. Anya was lashing out, wanting to inflict the pain and betrayal she felt by Buffy’s hand. So, Buffy gathered herself, going against her instincts that told her to lash back at the woman, and put her in her place. High ground, Buffy, she told herself; be the better person.
“Yes,” Buffy said slowly, “That did hurt.”
Anya shook her head and looked down. “Why is it I feel the need to apologize for that after what you did?” she whispered. She looked back up at Buffy, her eyes watering with tears. “I just – Buffy, why my boyfriend? How could you do that to me?”
“It wasn’t because he was yours, Anya. Hell, if that were the case I could have tried with any one of the thousand I’d met before him.” Okay, so maybe she was making a jab there, but really, she couldn’t help it. She thought it and, like diarrhea of the mouth, it came out. It wasn’t like it wasn’t true.
“So then what is it? Help me to understand.”
Buffy took a deep breath, “He – he understands me—“
“Buffy, I understand you, do you want to fuck me too?”
Buffy winced at the crude language used to describe her and Spike and making love. “No, it’s not about that. And you do understand, to a point. You understand because you knew Doyle and you experienced some measure of grief when he died because he was your friend too. But . . . you don’t – you’ve never really lost anyone incredibly close to you. You don’t know the thoughts that go through your head when you have – the guilt, the anger at the world, the feeling that your heart is being ripped out of your chest, and wanting to crawl out of your skin to just be able to do something instead of sitting there and remembering and wallowing . . . You’ve never had to go through that. Spike did and he talked to me about, Anya. It wasn’t as if I met him and I thought, ‘I’m going to steal him because I really like him’. He let me be free in talking about what I went through, what I was still going through and he even lets me talk about what I am still going through.” She took another breath, needing her strength to say this bit, “Anya, you just wanted me shove it away and move on as if it never happened. You got me to put all those mementos of Doyle up in the attic – all those things that I had to remember him by. Those ‘things’ were part of my life with him and I realize that I couldn’t have held onto them forever and that eventually, they did have to go, but . . . I wasn’t ready to put all that away, and you made me feel as if it were some kind of sin if I felt I needed to be close to those things that were all I had left of him.
Spike got it in a way that you couldn’t – and not just you. No one else fully got it. They just wanted me better but they didn’t want me to necessarily go through the process. And Spike was able to relate to me in that manner. He understood how it felt lose someone – two someone’s in his case – and I felt a connection there. When I realized that I was feeling something for him, I stayed away. For you. For Doyle.” Buffy pondered at that point if it was a good idea to tell Anya about the dinner with Riley fiasco and how she and Spike had kissed in the bathroom. No, that would do no good. It’d only further hurt Anya more and, since the woman already suspected that something had happened before Spike had broken up with her, that would just give her more reason to hate her. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid and just implied.
“And then he broke up with me?” Anya murmured.
“Yes.”
“Because he felt the same way.”
“Yes.”
“Are you – are you over Doyle?”
Buffy shook her head, “I don’t think I’ll ever be truly over Doyle.”
“Has he told you he loves you?”
“Yes.”
Anya looked up at her, “Are you using him to just heal, Buffy?”
“No, Anya, I’m not. Honestly, I’m a little afraid that the more I feel for Spike, the less I’ll feel for Doyle and, somehow, that will make Doyle disappear. I try not to think about that which, ultimately, I’m sure will catch up with me.”
“I’m still hurt,” Anya admitted softly.
“I know. Anya, please, can we work on this? I want to; I don’t want to lose you.”
Anya took a deep, shuddering breath and Buffy knew she was fighting tears. “Okay,” she finally said, “I want to try too. I can’t promise . . . anything right now.”
Buffy nodded, “Okay, I understand. But we try, right?”
Anya nodded once, briskly, “We try.”
*************************
“Well,” Dr, Mackenzie, Spike’s specialist, said moving the stethoscope off Spike’s chest, “Everything sounds fine, everything looks fine.”
Spike slipped his shirt back on, “I feel good, so that makes sense.”
Dr. Mackenzie sat down in his chair, picking up Spike’s journal. “You’re taking your meds on time, getting enough rest; your blood pressure is good . . .” He looked up and studied Spike, his eyes gray eyes, that coincidently matched his hair, were twinkling. “And, you seem in good spirits. I haven’t seen you smiling like this since, well, since just after your transplant.”
Spike grinned, “What are you saying, doc? I’ve been a sullen wanker all this time?”
Dr. Mackenzie chuckled, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. So, who is she?”
Spike laughed, “Well, you cut right the quick don’t you?”
The older man shrugged his broad shoulders and sat back, “I’m a doctor, it’s my job to be observant.”
“I thought it was your job to diagnose and treat?” Spike teased.
“Well, I’ve observed you today Spike, I’m diagnosing you with being in love, and my treatment is to continue on that path. It looks good on you.”
“Don’t have to worry about that, doc. I plan on continuing it. And, in that end, I’ve got to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Well, not to sound like a complete ponce, but in the spirit of being in love as I am, I’m feeling the need to contact my donor family and thank them.”
Dr. Mackenzie’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “Really? You hadn’t wanted to do that before.”
“Yeah, I know, I kind of felt then that I didn’t want to thank them for their loss and my gain.”
“And now you feel differently?”
“I do,” he nodded, “I feel that maybe it’d give them hope. Maybe that way they could see that their loved one lived on in some way, and the happiness that he or she gave to them, gave happiness to someone else. I don’t want to write a sonnet about it or anything, I just want to express to them that it gave me a new life and that I cherish life that much more now.”
“Impressive. This girl has done wonders for you.”
Spike grinned mischievously, “How do you know it’s a girl?”
Dr. Mackenzie flushed and started stuttering and Spike laughed. “It’s a girl, doc. A very special girl. In fact, I’m convinced she’s an angel put on this Earth for me.”
The older doctor smiled warmly. “That’s how every man feels about the woman he loves.”
“I reckon they do. So, can you tell me what I need to do to contact the family?”
[Reviews - 628]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 3668 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +