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In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. ~ Oscar Wilde

Settling down on her bed, she stared at her phone. Spike hadn’t called yet. Should she call him? Or wait? She just didn’t know anymore.

Her thoughts were in turmoil. Had she gone too far? Had she put her own jealousy too far ahead of the big picture? Was she just as guilty of narrowly looking at things?

However, then there was the way she felt in regards to Spike’s behavior. Jealousy due to undiscovered feelings aside, he had made her feel as if she was just not that important. He told her they were best friends, told her how much she meant to him, but then his actions had been disrespectful and uncaring. He hadn’t acted like a friend to her at all. She felt…disposable. As if she were interchangeable with all the women he came in contact with. And she had expressed to him that she didn’t want to come out to visit and be privy to his party/whoring lifestyle, and, she had told him she didn’t want him to feel the need to change it for her; which then prompted him to promise her that it would be just them spending time together. This was her vacation after all. Man, this was not relaxing in the least.

And, she was thinking that right about now, he thought of her as just another Sam. And that was a whole other thing. There was a big story she was missing there. She had a feeling she was missing chunks of their story. Neither one really discussed what had all transpired between them. They seemed to be unable to get past the bitterness they had toward each other to be able to speak honestly about it.

Not that it was any of her business to begin with anyway.

Her phone went off and she jumped a mile. Flipping it open, she saw that it was Spike. “Hi.”

“Hi, Buffy. How are you, luv?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m . . . not that great.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah, kitten?”

“Will you come over so we can talk?”

He let out a sigh of relief now, “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Spike. . . “

“Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t hate you, I never have. I never would have stayed friends with you if I thought you were a bad person.”

“I know, Buffy. I thought I. . . I thought I’d lost you last night. Buffy…I know actions speak louder than words and my actions haven’t been the best as of late, but, God, the thought of losing you—“

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you . . . last night…?”

“No, I didn’t. Had no intention of it when I left, and I understand Buffy. You’ve been around long enough to hear the stories and know what it is I have done in similar situations. Do you believe me?”

“Can I say kind of?”

“You can,” he let out a small chuckle. “I understand.”

“I know I have no rights over you in that respect—“

“Buffy, did you . . . with Angel?”

“No.”

“I have no rights over you in that respect either, I just . . . needed to know.”

She nodded.

“You just nodded, didn’t you?” he asked, chuckling.

She laughed, and God, it felt so good to laugh, “Yes, I did. Will you come over now?”

“Try and stop me, kitten.”

*********

He made it to her within fifteen minutes. He was out the door as soon as they’d hung up. He had finally fallen into a restless sleep the night before and had done nothing but have dreams of Buffy and Angel pawing at each other.

He’d woken in a cold sweat each and every time.

Then, the last dream he had was of Buffy, holding him in her arms and telling him what a good man she thought he was. He felt such love radiating from her in that dream, felt it in his heart and it felt so real that he loathed waking up.

When he heard her voice on the phone, he wanted nothing more than to see her. And he was so afraid that she would say no, but when his angel had told him to come see her, he nearly wept with relief. He felt such a rush of emotion for her, emotions so strong they threatened to bring him to his knees.

Emotions he still was not ready to explore just yet.

So when she opened her door to him and threw her arms around him, he held on tight, squeezing her into him until he feared he’d break her.

“Spike,” she told him quietly, “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I don’t either,” he replied.

“I just feel like . . . things have to change.”

“So do I, baby.”

“Do you, really?”

“Yes, I do, and I need you.”

“And I’m here. . . I just. . . I don’t know.”

“I know, baby, I know what you’re saying.”

“I’m glad you do because I don’t.”

He pulled back slightly and cupped her face in his hands. “You are my angel, Buffy. I mean that.”

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she gazed up at him, beginning to spill over, Spike wiped them away with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, Buffy, please.”

“I think I’m just overemotional.”

“I’m in touch with that emotion.”

She smiled warily and he hugged her again. “Let’s have that talk, okay?”

*********************
Settling down in a chair at the table in her room, Spike bid her to join him. She did, sitting across from him with her hands folded on the table. She looked like all business Buffy and he had to smile.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, “That there are some things you don’t know about Sam and I.”

Her eyes flew wide, “You’re going to tell me about that?”

He frowned slightly, “Yeah, I was. Why? Do you not want to hear about that? Do you think it’s inappropriate –“

“No, no not at all, I just . . . I just didn’t think you’d want to share. You’ve always just glossed over it before and I never asked too much because I didn’t want to pry –“

“Buffy, luv,” he said, and reached across the table to take her little hand in his, “You’re allowed to pry. You’re not . . . “

“Harmony? Or, ‘Ba ba black sheep’ girl?”

He nodded, “Right, you’re not them.”

She took a deep breath and pulled her hand out of his grasp, settling back. “Okay. I’m all ears.”

“Well, the history of Sam and I is complicated. Basically, you have two opposites that were too young and stupid and made poor choices.”

“Young and stupid seem to go hand-in-hand don’t they?”

He shrugged, “I suppose they do at that. But even when you’re young and stupid, you know that some things should not be done, and I knew back then that I never should have married Sam.”

She froze. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So, why did you?”

“I reckon that’s where the stupid part came in. Along with the insecure part.”

“You? Insecure?” she said, almost dryly. Spike wasn’t sure if she really meant that as a question or if she was being sarcastic. Probably, he decided, a little of both.

“Yeah, kitten, me insecure. You see, when I met Sam, I wasn’t much of anything. I was trying to make a name for myself, and at the time, making a name for myself in local theater.”

“I thought you guys met in college?”

“We did, but we were never anything then. Just acquaintances really. Some of her old mates were actors in college along with myself and that’s how we met. We never dated until a few years after school when I was doing local theater and getting bit parts – starving artist, let me tell you – and she was working as a receptionist for a marketing firm. Both of us out in the world not really doing what we wanted to be doing and feeling miserable because of it.”

“So, how did you meet up again?”

“Her firm had taken on the marketing for the theater at the time, trying to do a revival for the arts, and she got free tickets. She recognized me and came to see me after the show. Talking led to coffee which led to exchanging phone numbers and, before you knew it, we were dating.”

“Were you. . . happy with her then?”

“I was. . . content, I think. She looked after me, took care of me. We kind of relied on each other. Our careers were crap and we were unhappy, but we dreamt big. We’d sit and make plans and goals for ourselves, coming up with these plans and ideals for how our lives were going to be once we were doing what we both loved. Before long, those plans for our future included each other, but looking back on it now, I think that was a comfort thing, not necessarily a ‘love’ thing. But, as I said, young and stupid, neither of us really knew any better as we’d never had many relationships before that. Sam was my first.”

Now her eyes bugged, “Get out.”

Spike nodded, “She was. Buffy, I wasn’t much of anything back then. I was a nerd, I was in theater and I loved literature. Everyone assumed I was gay and so no one bothered. I had no confidence in myself really, and the only time I did was when I was on stage. Then I was someone else and not boring William Giles.”

“So, that’s why you hate that name so much.”

He smiled, “Yep, that’s why I hate that name so much.”

“Okay, so, then what? You got married?”

“Seemed like the natural next step, so yeah, we got married. Things were all right for a while. Kind of like . . . good friends with benefits? There wasn’t passion between us, but companionship, understanding and support. At least there was until I landed a part on a WB drama. Wasn’t a main character or anything, but it got me recognition. And Sam was the one that encouraged me try out for it. Though I think in her mind she didn’t think I would really get it.”

“So, you’re saying the support ended after that?”

“Yes. The part in this WB drama generated some nods and made me a couple of the ‘fresh’ and ‘up and coming’ stars as friends. They invited me out to their shin digs, and who was I to pass up the opportunity to get some more recognition? Maybe land another part? Of course I wanted to do it. This was what I had dreamt of, what Sam and I together had dreamt for me.”

“Only . . . “

“She wasn’t happy. She was jealous. I was moving ahead, on the cusp of something great and she had only managed to move up to secretary in her firm.”

“Oh.”

“So, she wasn’t as supportive anymore. She was cold, distant. Didn’t want to go out with me and I wanted her there. She was my wife, why wouldn’t I want her to share that part with me?”

“Did she evergo?”

“A few times, but then she just had excused to not go. First it was she didn’t like being on display—didn’t like having her picture taken and all that and I understood that, I really did, but then it got to be that she didn’t have anything to wear or that the parties were just stupid anyway. And yeah, for the most part, they were, but it was something I had to do. I had an in to doing what I love most, I had to take it. I was getting roles, I was getting noticed. I was getting recognition. Finally.”

Buffy nodded, “I get that. I would have went.”

His eyes lit up and he noted the blush that spread over her cheeks and the way she looked away from his gaze. “You would have?”

She nodded, shyly meeting his gaze. What was that all about then? “I would have supported you. I support your career, Spike.”

“I know you do, luv. That means a lot to me.”

“So, um, is that when things started to go downhill?”

Spike nodded, “Exactly then,” he said on a sigh. “She was jealous. Plain and simple. And it wasn’t that she was jealous of other women, she was jealous that I was succeeding. She became obsessed with it, though she denied she was. I tried to talk to her about it and I got the brush off, I was told I was being crazy and ridiculous. I knew our marriage was ending then, Buffy. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, but she was pregnant with Alicia at that point and I wanted to at least try to make it work for her.”

“Were you gone all the time? I mean, while Sam was pregnant?”

“No, not all the time. We’re talking a few nights during the week. I was home with her for the rest – at least when she wanted me there.”

“She had to have wanted you around to have conceived Alicia.”

“Oh well, Alicia was conceived during a moment when Sam wanted to convince me that she was not jealous of me and did want me there. The woman cannot admit she might be wrong about anything. She also can’t admit when something is not working and our marriage was not working. At all.”

“So when did you have the affair?”

He took a deep breath and stood, starting to pace. “I had done a job for another TV drama – this one on a CSI type show; it was on a major network – NBC, in a prime time slot too. I had been in a few episodes and we’d had a party after for it. I wanted Sam to come so I could show off Alicia. The cast had been tired of hearing me go on about my beautiful daughter and wanted to meet her already. Sam refused. She said she didn’t want them near Alicia – as if they would contaminate her or something. We started having a row about how I was a sell out and it just escalated with me saying a few choice words to her about being a failure in marketing and I left, angry. I had a few drinks, met a woman and she made me feel good. . . She paid attention to me. Flattered me.” He stopped and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t getting any of that at home. Not anymore. It hit then. . . I never really loved Sam. I loved her as a person, but she’d made that too hard to do at that point.”

Silence fell and he gathered his thoughts, his mind going back to those days. He felt vulnerable and unsure of himself all over again. “Buffy, I don’t condone what I did to Sam. I don’t think ‘she was a bitch; ergo I had to have an affair.’ I regret what I did because I remember how it hurt her and I remember having to leave the house and Alicia behind.” He sighed heavily, “What happened after that, I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

He looked at her and found her watching him with an odd expression on her face. “Buffy?” he whispered.

She stood and crossed the room to him. Standing before him, she reached up and cupped the side of his face before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him.

“I think you needed that,” she told him softly.

His eyes welled up in tears and he held on to her tightly, allowing those tears to fall. He didn’t want her to see them, wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable in front of her, and if she knew the reason why he couldn’t let her go until he was done, she didn’t say.





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