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Thank you all for the support of this story, it means a lot to me. :)
Chapter Six

Buffy sat on her bed long after Spike had left and she had showered. Reaching over on her nightstand, she took the picture of Doyle and placed it in her lap, studying it.

Her eyes welled up in tears. Guilty tears. Guilt over finding Spike attractive, for feeling drawn to him. She felt guilt over Anya for that, but mostly for Doyle. She felt as if she were betraying him and that sat in her gut like lead.

Tracing the lines of Doyle’s face, huge drops of tears fell on the glossy, glass surface and her vision blurred completely until she couldn’t make out his face.

“I’ll always remember you, baby. I wouldn’t ever betray you,” she whispered through her salty tears, catching some in her mouth. “He’s kind, honey, he really is,” she told the picture, “He’s been so kind to me and understanding. It’s so nice to talk to someone that understands and has been there, ya know? But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, baby. I miss you every day. Every single day and that won’t change.”

For the second time that week, she sobbed hard. She felt something inside her shifting and it scared her, scared her because she was afraid to let that shift take over; she was afraid of what it meant.

Afraid she was betraying Doyle and leaving him behind. She couldn’t ever leave him behind like that.

“Gra geal mo chroi,” she whispered, “Love of my heart.” Laying down on her bed, she held his picture to her chest and cried until she had no more energy to cry. When she was done, she reached over and grabbed the phone.

“Faithy? What are you doing tomorrow? . . . Can you come with me and Spike to run some errands? . . . Don’t ask, Faithy. Not now.”

**********

“You’ve sure taken a vested interest in Buffy,” Anya mused as she watched Spike make their dinner.

He shrugged in a manner he hoped was blasé. “Have I?”

Anya rolled her eyes, “Oh come on. You took her car shopping; you trimmed her hedges, mowed her lawn, and helped paint her fence.” She came over to him and placed a hand on his back, causing him to look at her. “Am I losing you?”

His heart leapt to his throat, an uncomfortable feeling, “No, why would you say that?”

She laughed airily, “I’m just kidding.” She wrapped her arms around him from behind and Spike focused on the cabinet in front of him, staring at it, boring a hole in it. “I feel sorry for her, don’t you?”

“Sorry for her? Why do you—why do you say that?” he asked tightly.

“Her loss. She’s in so much pain, I mean, trust me, she’s gotten a lot better than she used to be, but she’s still hurting. And Buffy’s so loyal, I wonder if she’ll ever move on or stay alone.”

That angered Spike and he jerked away, causing Anya to release him. He whipped around and looked at her. “That was a little cold, Anyanka,” he said, trying to keep his anger to a simmer.

“Wh—what do you—“

“She might still be hurting, yes, but it takes time. It’s not like she’ll be better overnight. And she doesn’t need pitying or molly coddling. Trust me, she doesn’t want or need to be pitied.”

Anya’s expression softened, “Your parents, right?”

No, not just my parents, not just my bloody parents! He was screaming in his head at her. But he couldn’t give too much away, if he did, he wouldn’t be able to spend any more time with Buffy. Alone. So, he nodded and let her rush to him, holding onto him and whispering soothing, yet meaningless –at least to him-- words of comfort.

*********
Spike was disappointed. The last thing he expected to see when he pulled into Buffy’s driveway was Faith’s car. His heart plummeted at the sight. Did that mean Buffy wasn’t coming out with him today after all?

Forcing himself to exude a cheerful exterior, he jogged up to the door and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Faith flung the door open to greet him. “Hey.”

“Hi, Faith, how are you?”

There was a harder edge about her today, she seemed almost confrontational.

She snapped the gum she was chewing, “Fine, and you?”

“Good,” he said slowly, “Can I come in? Where’s Buffy?”

“I’m here!” he heard her shout from upstairs, “Just putting in my earrings. You don’t mind if Faith joins us do you?”

Act normal, Spike. “No, not at all. That sounds like fun.”

Faith stepped aside and Spike entered, smiling at the brunette who was eyeing him warily.

“Come here,” Faith said, grabbing his arm and all but dragging him in the kitchen.

“What?” Spike asked, slightly annoyed.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing with my sister in law?”

“What are you even talking –“

“Faith? Spike?” Buffy called out, her voice closer.

Faith pointed a finger in his face and leaned her curvy body into his, “I’m onto you.”

He wanted to snarl at her, but couldn’t. Not then. When they got a moment alone, she’d be meeting the ‘Big Bad’.

********

Despite the fact that Buffy took the back seat, leaving Faith to sit up front with him, and despite the fact that Buffy seemed to avoid making eye contact with him and having any alone time with him at all, the day went fine.

When they arrived back to her house, he got the message loud and clear that it was time for him to go. Mainly from Faith; from Buffy he just felt a general sense of uncomfortableness radiating from her. He desperately wanted to ask her why, but she wasn’t giving him that opportunity. He was finding it rather frustrating. He felt like a kid on a date, Faith being the chaperone.

“I’ll walk him out,” Faith told Buffy. “I’m heading out anyway. Okay, B?”

“Of course, honey. Thanks for coming out with us today,” Buffy said, hugging Faith. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Once the door was shut and they were a few feet away, Spike hissed “You want to tell me what exactly it is you’re ‘on’ to?”

“You’re after Buffy,” she said simply.

“Are you completely off your bird? I’m with Anya!”

“Cut the shit, Spikey. I see the way you look at her, the way you call her ‘kitten’ and ‘pet’ and ‘love’. Don’t fucking give me the innocent shit. I perfected it so I can see right through it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I like Buffy, I truly like her—“

“Yeah, and she just lost her husband. My brother. Anya is her best friend, and she is Anya’s. Don’t presume to think you know anything about Buffy. You don’t. Leave her be.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed, “She say something to you? Is she uncomfortable with me around?”

If Spike hadn’t been studying Faith closely, he would have missed the hesistant look that floated across her features. Thankfully, he was studying Faith and hadn’t missed it.

“Maybe you should stop fighting her battles,” Spike snapped.

“She asked me to come today. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“She tell you why?”

“No, and she doesn’t have to.”

Spike held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I’m backing off. Watch me back off,” and he marched to his car.

He drove to the end of the street and turned around, saw Faith’s car was gone, and pulled back in Buffy’s driveway.





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