It was hard getting out of bed in the morning, but as Buffy finally dragged herself from the safety of her covers she was beginning to feel marginally better. Her breakup was not the end of the end and, judging by the letter Spike had left, it was not the end of them either. A small thrill went up her spine despite the misery she still felt. There was not a bone in her body that doubted Spike would fight for her. And who knows, if they could resolve their trust issues maybe there was a future for them.
And that maybe was what forced her from bed.
She ran the shower hot that morning, the first blast of water stinging her back. It was a good hurt. As the water sprayed above her she let everything go, all her worries, all the pain, all the heartbreak of the last 24 hours. Let it all wash from her body before swirling down the drain.
The water turned cold before she finally stepped out from beneath the spray.
When Spike left the Summers' residence earlier it was with great reluctance. Not that he'd slept very much, or very well for that matter, but he didn't want to leave Buffy.
She looked so peaceful when she slept.
And it pained him that the reason her expression in sleep didn't match the one in wakefulness was due to him.
It was only when he heard the sounds of someone moving within the house, Buffy's mother, that he forced himself to leave. He folded the blankets she'd retrieved for him and placed them close to the bed-where they wouldn't be seen if Joyce checked in on her-and with a kiss to Buffy's cheek he left the exact same way he'd arrived.
Out the window.
It had been a great deal easier to navigate his way down than it had been climbing up, now that he was sober.
He'd started the car and left as quietly as possible-which wasn't all that stealthy in the Desoto-and made his way home.
Now that he was home Spike practically flew around his bedroom in an effort to get ready as quickly as possible. He wanted to be at school before Buffy, would be waiting for her in the parking lot. Because he meant what he'd said in the letter he left her this morning.
He wasn't giving up.
She'd left it as late as possible before going downstairs. While Buffy appreciated her mom's efforts to be supportive she really didn't want any sympathy this morning. Things had changed because of Spike's visit, and Buffy hadn't quite wrapped her head around everything yet.
In retrospect, some of the comments her mother had made the night before-while supportive at the time-were a little judgemental. Buffy knew it wasn't deliberate, but the divorce had to have shaped her mom's point of view on men in some way.
The one thing Buffy was certain about was that she wasn't sure things with Spike were as over as she had once thought. He was determined, that was very clear, and when he set his mind to something it was near impossible to change it. And he'd apparently set his mind on her.
"Good morning."
"Morning," Buffy greeted, grabbing the juice from the fridge and pouring herself a glass.
She could feel her mother's worried eyes on her and flashed a small smile in response. "I'll be fine."
Buffy could see her mom wasn't entirely satisfied but she seemed to let it go. She grabbed a bagel to pick at on the ride to school. Buffy was about to suggest they leave-because she'd dawdled upstairs for longer than she realised-when the phone rang.
"Joyce Summers."
The worry lines that scrunched her mom's brow immediately put Buffy on edge. It couldn't be Spike, could it?
No, mom would've hung up immediately.
And, as far as Buffy knew, things at the gallery were going well, so that left only one option she knew of that would cause her mother to freeze up like this.
"Honey, it's your father."
Oh crap...
Spike waited anxiously in the car park, a pile of cigarette butts accumulating at his feet.
Buffy was late.
Okay, so technically the bell hadn't gone yet. But that didn't calm Spike's nerves. Buffy was always early for school, without fail. And it was five minutes before the morning bell and she wasn't here yet.
So as far as Spike was concerned, Buffy was late.
And Buffy was never late.
Something was wrong, and he was going to find out.
Flicking his latest cigarette to the ground, he crushed it beneath his boot. He hastily collected his books and his backpack from the hood of his car to throw into the backseat when a shiver went up his spine. He could feel someone's eyes on him. A quick scan pinpointed the starers, or glarers, on the other side of the lot.
Xander and Willow, and, by the looks of it, a couple of the girls from the swim team as well.
And they were headed his way.
For a moment he was hopeful that Buffy was with them, but she wasn't. And he seriously doubted she would have led the others to him if she were. The way Xander and Willow were moving meant they were on a mission to give him a piece of their minds.
Great...
"Alright then, let's have it." Spike waved his hands in the air in surrender, anticipating a verbal attack. He leaned against his car, folding his arms across his chest.
"You're an idiot, Spike. You know that?" Xander sneered.
"Yeah, mate, I do. It's a pretty well known fact, actually." Spike shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. The sooner this was over with, the sooner he could leave.
It was Willow who responded, those her sad eyes of her pinning him against the car better than brute force. "Why'd you do it, Spike? I thought you were better than that."
Spike opened his mouth to respond but Xander cut him off. "He did it because he seems to think he's God's gift to women, and Buffy was just his latest challenge," the brunet spat. "New girl in town and he," Xander jerked his thumb at Spike, "wanted to be the one to get there first."
"You don't speak like that about Buffy," Spike snarled in warning, moving close enough to get in Xander's face.
A small circle had begun to form, word getting out about a possible fight.
"Xander, we should go," Willow suggested, tugging on Xander's arm but he just shrugged it off.
"You stay away from Buffy," Xander warned. "She doesn't want you around her."
"Let's let Buffy be the judge of that," Spike retorted.
"You're not good enough for her," Xander stated.
"Buffy, will be the judge of that," Spike repeated, clenching his fists by his sides.
"Wake up, Spike. She's not yours anymore. You used her and lied to her. What did you expect? That she'd forgive and forget how you made a fool of her? It's over. Get that into your thick skull and stay the hell away from her."
A murmur went through the crowd.
"Alright, Xander, that's enough." Willow's tugging on Xander's arm was insistent now. "Let's go. Now."
Spike's jaw clenched, hands fisted by his sides as anger rippled throughout his entire body. His expression was thunderous, and several people took a few steps back, fear flashing across their faces. Even Xander moved away slightly, and it gave Spike a modicum of satisfaction, but not nearly enough.
The words burbled up in his throat-taunts of how he did get there first, how the other teen was jealous she didn't choose him-but he bit them back. His relationship with Buffy was private, and rubbing Xander's nose in it-not to mention informing half the school population-was a sure fire way to ensure Buffy was lost to him for good. The comments would cheapen their relationship, degrading it and make it out to be something shallow and meaningless when the opposite was, in fact, the truth. Buffy would never forgive him for that. So Spike pursed his lips and refused to comment.
The crowd lost interest and dispersed when it became apparent Spike was-shockingly-keeping his temper under control.
Willow shot Spike a look of apology as she dragged Xander away and Spike was grateful for the support, especially considering she'd been on the lynching squad in the beginning. It was nice to know that at least one of Buffy's friends didn't doubt him completely.
The bell rang and Spike opened his car door, ready to climb in, when a voice halted him.
"And just where do you think you're going, Mr Thornton?"
Busted. And by Principal Snyder no less.
Perfect.
Buffy returned the phone to its cradle, schooling her expression to one of calm before seeking out her mother.
She couldn't let her know.
She found her mom in her bedroom, last minute fussing with her appearance. It brought tears to Buffy's eyes and she took a deep breath.
"Mom, I don't feel very well."
Concern instantly flooded Joyce's gaze. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" Her hand went to Buffy's forehead, before moving to her chin to lift her daughter's gaze from the floor. "What's wrong?" Her expression clouded. "Was it something your father said?"
"NO," Buffy replied, a little too loudly. "No. It's... it's silly, really. I just..."
"Is it because of Spike?"
Buffy nodded immediately, latching on to the excuse.
It wasn't a lie. Buffy was anxious about school, about seeing Spike again. It wouldn't be easy to be near him again with all the hurt she still felt for how things had ended. However his surprise visit... Break in more like it... had lessened the painful twist in her heart. Any righteous anger she'd felt for how he'd treated her had fled when he desperately tried to convince her he still cared.
That wasn't the reason the pit of her stomach was rolling, though.
Didn't mean she wouldn't work with it.
"I don't know if I can-"
"You don't need to explain," Joyce soothed, hugging Buffy close. "Stay home today, relax, have a bubble bath and just give yourself some time to heal. It'll get better, I promise."
Her mother's understanding forced the tears out, and they trickled down her cheeks.
Oh god...
Buffy's heart broke; she didn't know how she was going to go through with this. But she had no choice. "Thank you." She tightened the embrace, hugging her mom fiercely. "I love you, mom."
Joyce blinked in surprise, her own expression softening. "I love you too, sweetheart." She was touched; it wasn't often those words passed her daughter's lips. Unfortunately she did not have the time to savour them. She was late for work.
"We'll order take out for dinner tonight," Joyce suggested, kissing Buffy on the forehead before collecting her things for work. "If you feel like going out later on you can pick up a couple of movies. We'll have a girls' night, you could call Willow."
"No," Buffy shook her head to the negative. "Just the two of us. We don't spend enough time together."
Joyce had to agree, and she felt guilty about that. She resolved to get home earlier more often, she missed spending time with her daughter. She smiled at Buffy. "Sounds lovely."
Buffy watched as her mother made her way to the bedroom door, and paused.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Worry crinkled her brow. "I suppose I could call in sick for the day."
"I'll be fine," Buffy assured, pasting a smile on her face. "I'll see you when you finish."
It wasn't until the front door closed, signalling she was alone, that Buffy finally broke, collapsing into a ball on the floor.
Quiet sobs became desperate wails. Her breath came in short gasps as she completely lost control. She had been backed into a corner with no escape.
Any fleeting hopes of restoring her relationship with Spike were dashed. She'd lost the will to even try.
Why resurrect something that had an expiry date fixed to it?
~~~~~~~~~~