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The truth is rarely pure and never simple.~Oscar Wilde

Spike lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was pretty much not going to happen anytime soon. His mind wouldn’t shut off. He thought about everything from marrying Sam up to the present moment.

Glancing over at the clock, he groaned. Three a.m. He needed to get some rest, needed to see about a girl in the morning.

His gut clenched – had Buffy taken that oaf up to her room? Had she . . . slept with him? Was she sleeping with him right now? Reaching in the dark for his phone he quickly pushed redial and prayed she’d answer.

Voice mail. Her sweet voice came across with some generic message about leaving a number and all that rot, and Spike’s throat tightened. What if she never spoke to him again? Would he be destined to listen to her voice mail in years to come until she got tired of seeing his name pop up and then she’d change her phone number and – God. What if she did end up with Angel and he told her she was never to speak to him again? What if she ended up marrying the stupid sod and Spike spent years trying to talk to his sweet Buffy only to be told by Angel – “Do you know who Iam?”

He shut his eyes, “This is ridiculous,” he said to his empty room, “Buffy’s my best friend – or rather, was my best friend. She can go out with and date whomever she wants. This shouldn’t be bothering me so much.”

An image of her on Angel’s arm popped in his mind and he grabbed the pillow beside him and growled, flinging it across the room. There was no getting around it.

He was jealous.

The thought of another man touching Buffy sent his blood boiling. The thought of Buffy with another – laughing with them, hugging them…loving them -- made his heart ache.

“Don’t even think about it, mate,” he muttered and rolled over, willing himself to sleep.

**********

Buffy rolled over in bed, still awake. Her body was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. After she’d thanked Angel for dinner and apologized for Spike’s behavior, she’d bid him good night. Graciously, he bid her good night as well and asked if she would have breakfast with him in the hotel dining room the next morning before his convention. She’d agreed.

Now of course, her mind turned to Spike—and didn’t it always? Something had been different tonight with him. Something had shifted between them. Oh there was the fact that he came after her – hunted her down really, though that hadn’t surprised her too much. Then there was the possessiveness he displayed with her in regards to Angel. He’d always been protective of her, which she found funny considering the kind of man he needed to protect her from was playboys like himself, but it hadn’t been that either.

He didn’t turn on his manipulative charm to get her to go with him. Instead, he let her go. Not that she wanted him to manipulate her into staying – au contraire – she was glad he hadn’t. She was sure with one more plead; she would have gone with him for no other reason than the fact that she hated to see him in pain.

And, it hadn’t just been between them that the shift had taken place, it had been in him. There wasn’t the swagger and confidence he usually had about him, there was a sadness in him, a resignation . . . desperation and a determination for something other than where his fun was coming next.

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was 3:30 a.m. Picking up her phone, she flipped it open and realized she hadn’t turned it back on. Pressing on the ‘on’ button, it was brought to life and immediately “Two Missed Calls” came up. She knew without checking that it was Spike. Curious though, she wanted to check the times. The first one had been around the time she’d checked in to the hotel. The second one had just been a half an hour before.

She was tempted to call, to see what he had to say, but she couldn’t. She had to be strong.

Rolling over and clear to the other side of the bed, she shut her eyes and prayed for sleep.

**************************
“So, you didn’t want to talk about it last night, but can I ask about it this morning?” Angel asked as he handed Buffy a blueberry muffin after she’d reached for it.

She made a face, “I guess.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got to ask—who is he? He acted like I should know and—“

“’Vampire Chronicles’, ever see that show?”

Angel chewed thoughtfully. She knew the moment he figured it out because his face lit up and then he screwed his brows together, “That was William Giles?”

“The one and only,” Buffy said dryly. “Thank God,” she added.

“I’ve only seen the show a few times. My niece has a crush on him.”

“How old is your niece?”

“Seventeen.”

“You can let her know that there’s hope.”

Angel stared at her, “What do you mean?”

Buffy shook her head, “Nothing, nevermind.”

“So, can you still tell me what’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing is going on with us two.”

Angel rose a brow, “Is that what the problem is? Do you want there to be a going on with you two?”

Buffy stared at Angel, pondering that question. It was a loaded question filled with implications she was not ready for should she choose to venture on an answer. She knew there were things there, she knew she had feelings for him, but did she want to necessarily explore what said feelings were exactly? Was she ready to put a name to any of them? Could she put a name to any of them and have them not be in vain?

The answer to those questions was a resounding no, with a ‘way’. So, no way.

“Okay, I can see you don’t want to answer that,” Angel said, “I’m sorry I asked,” he finished on a mutter.

“I’m sorry. It’s just complicated.”

“I’ll say.”

“I led you on, didn’t I?” she asked guiltily.

He shook his head, “No, not really, Buffy. I knew last night when you and William Giles were going at it that I didn’t have a shot in hell. And, well, let’s be real. I live in Chicago, you live in Boston. If anything, it would have been a fling and well . . . what’s the point. I mean aside from some fun with no strings, but – and why am I saying no to this again?”

She laughed, “Because you’re a good guy, that’s why. And trust me, meeting a man that doesn’t just want a mindless fling is refreshing.”

“You know, I’ve learned a lot about William Giles by all that you’re not saying. I love my niece and honestly, I don’t want to burst her bubble that the man she believes herself in love with, is actually an ass. I kind of want to keep her in the dark about all that and let her have her fantasies.”

“Is that healthy though? If someone clings to only fantasies, how do they handle the truth when it’s forced in front of them?”

“Ah, but if reality can never touch them – if they can remain blissfully ignorant because the truth is so far from their doorstep, then why not let them indulge in that fantasy. Right now, she’s got the perfect model in her head of what she thinks is the perfect guy.”

“So, it’s a lovely model she’s got her mind. A model that she can impose on any ‘real’ man that comes around.”

Angel nodded, “Right. So if say, in her mind, William Giles is romantic, then the ultimate ‘mate’ she’s looking for is romantic.”

“Okay, I see what you’re saying but, what if some great guy comes along that is lacking romance. What if he possesses all the other stuff she’s looking for, but that one, or, or there are a few other ideals he’s lacking – could she be in danger of letting something potentially great go because she was lost in her fantasy and clinging to that one ideal that can never be?”

“Or maybe that one great guy was just great for a while, but the one she’s meant to be with embodies all that she desires.”

“No one can embody all that you desire, it’s just not possible.”

“I’ll give you that. Buffy . . . what has he done to you?”

Buffy shook her head slowly and sighed, “Nothing and everything.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“I know.”

“Do you . . . have feelings for him?”

She said nothing.

“That answered that,” Angel said on a sigh. “Is that what it’s all about? Is that why you’re so upset with him?”

She had the sudden urge to cry.

“Buffy?”

She looked up at him, still saying nothing.

“I can’t imagine you having a bad boy fetish for some reason. There must be something redeemable about him.”

She nodded, “There is. More than I think he realizes right now. More than I’ve made him think at this point.”

“So. . . it wouldn’t be too far off to tell my niece he’s really a good guy?”

Buffy smiled wearily, “Not, not too far off at all.”





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