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Ch. 29 What are we doing here?


The reception was over now and she was walking along the sidewalk with Gabriel at her side. Her hand poked out of her jacket sleeve so her fingers could loosely interlock with his. It was interesting how the casual familiarity of his touch could calm her like warm water while the electric feeling of Spike's hand on her arm had sent her pulse racing. She moved a little closer to him and let herself be soothed by the faint scent of his cologne.

"So," Gabriel smiled as they reached an intersection. He looked down at her and squeezed her hand. If they went straight, they would be going straight to the Residence Hall, but if they made a left, they would head to Dane A. Richard's Performance Hall where Gabriel held temporary residence in the basement. If Buffy went back to her dorm, Faith and Kendra would be there… if she went with Gabriel to his basement…

"So," she repeated, slowly, and let her lips curve up a little. Thoughts of Spike bombarded her like little toy soldiers on a war field and her smile faltered. She quickly cast the thoughts aside, not willing to read into them and spoil her time with Gabriel.

"Do you maybe want to…" his voice trailed off and he swallowed, nervously, before trying again, "Do you want to maybe go back to my, um, …"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, saving him from embarrassment. His face lit up and he slid his arm around her waist as they made a left.

They walked briskly, idly chatting the entire way. Once in a while, Buffy would feel a shiver run down her spine, whether it was because of what she knew would bound to happen at Gabriel's… basement… or because of the emotional roller coaster her night had been, she really wasn't sure. She didn't want to give herself time to wonder, so she talked faster, walked closer, and silently prayed in her head that her boyfriend would erase all the worries that were swimming around in her mind.

………
………

"Finally," Gabriel broke into a grin when they reached his place, digging through his pockets for the his keys and unlocking the doors of the tall, dark building. The moment they were inside, Buffy gave one last hard shove to all the Spike-thoughts that were taking over her weakening mind, spun around and pressed Gabriel up against the door, successfully slamming it shut.

Their lips fused and Buffy concentrated on the feel of Gabriel's warm mouth and his warm, welcoming body wrapping around hers. He was gentle, caressing her face and hugging her to him.

It wasn't enough. She wanted rough, so she grabbed the lapels of his beige jacket and pushed him harder into the glass door, making him groan. She needed to feel him, she needed him to make her feel wanted. Most of all, she needed him to make her forget about…

Gabriel got the message and lifted her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist. He kissed her for a few more moments before pushing up off the door and heading down the hall until he reached his basement door.

Buffy got to the floor when they reached his room. His very dim-lit and messy room. He stood there behind her, scratching his hair and wincing as he surveyed the area.

"Sorry," he gave her a small, lopsided smile and went to work clearing clothes off the bed and kicking them to the corner of his room. She laughed and pulled at his shoulders while he was bent down, making him straighten.

"It's okay," she shrugged. Gabriel stared at her for a short while as if he was trying to come to some decision. Buffy grew uncomfortable in his scrutinizing gaze and shifted her feet, "What?"

"Uh-" he smiled, then gently pushed her until she was sitting down on the bed. "I got something for you."

Buffy widened her eyes. "You did? For what?"

"Your performance tonight," he answered with a grin. Her puzzled frown deepened when he knelt down in front of her and stuck a hand into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry it's not wrapped," he apologized before taking her right hand and burying something cold, sleek, and expensive-feeling in her palm and curling her fingers around it.

With a gasp, she opened her hands to reveal a white-gold chain necklace with the signature Tiffany's heart at it's end. She looked from the glittering, delicate heap in her palm to the blueness of his eyes.

"Gabriel, I - I can't accept this," she said, a little choked from shock. He had bought her Tiffany's? They were at that stage in dating? Weren't expensive gifts for… later… a lot later? And sometimes, even later… was not later enough…

"You don't like it?" His face seemed to fall a little and she quickly shook her head.

"No! No, I love it, but…" she needed to find the right words. "I can't… it wouldn't be right. Gabriel, you don't have money like this to throw away!"

He stiffened, "I didn't throw it away. I bought my girlfriend something that I thought she'd like because I want her to know that she's - that you're special."

She saw Spike's blue eyes in Gabriel's blue eyes and found herself pointing out the differences. In this lighting, there were flecks of green in his eyes, making them murky like the water at the harbors. Spike's eyes were always pure blue, deep blue, expressive blue, calming blue, stormy blue, blue, blue, blue, blue… She closed her eyes and squeezed the tears out. Why was she crying?

Gabriel moved forward and pulled her farther back on the bed, laying her down so he could stretch out beside her and hold her.

"It's okay, Buffy," he whispered in her hair as she sobbed, not exactly sure what he was supposed to do. "I'll take it back if you don't want it."

"I-it's not that," she hiccupped and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I really, really love it. It's just that - "

Before she could finish her sentence, Gabriel was kissing her, deep, moist kisses that made her forget to breathe. As he kissed her, he took the necklace from her hands and fumbled with the clasp until it was around her neck.

Buffy tried to lose herself once more in the feel of his mouth, the slight pressure of his body as he moved until he was on top of her. But it didn't work. Her mind kept seeing Spike's angular face, painfully wincing at her sharp words, his blank face when he had left her on her front porch that day that seemed so long ago, his desperation when he tried to tell her that he loved her. The anger at him was building up again and it was coming out in the ferocity of her kisses as she brought her hands around Gabriel's head and mashed his mouth down hard on hers, using tongue, lips, and teeth to ravage him.

He didn't seem to complain. In fact, Buffy realized, he seemed to like it, if the erection pressed against her body was any indication. The feel of him made her freeze up. Wasn't this what she wanted?

But she couldn't get that stupid face out of her head. That stupid, stupid face. That stupid peroxide hair. Those stupid cheekbones. That stupid man. That stupid way he made her go crazy. The stupid way he made her feel like nothing and everything at the same time. She almost hated him for implanting himself in her head until she couldn't get rid of him no matter how hard she tried.

It wasn't right. She released him and slowly pushed against his shoulders to lift his body up.

His breathing was hard and he looked at her, confused and hoping she wasn't about to stop him. She blinked and took a deep breath.

"I'm not ready," she whispered, hoping he'd understand.

When he didn't say anything, just remained frozen above her, she rolled out from under him and stood by the side of the bed. He pushed himself to a sitting position and just stared.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head. They were silent for a few moments before Buffy took a step towards him and pressed a light kiss to his mouth. "Just… give me some time, okay? I'm a little confused right now and when this happens, I want this to be about us. Just us."

Before he could make out her words and understand what she was trying to tell him, she tightened her jacket around her body and fled up the stairs and out of the building.

…………

Her feet hit the ground and the minute she felt the coldness of the night on face, she let the tears flow free. She ran as fast as she could, willing her lungs to take in the gulps of freezing air that burnt her throat, willing her legs to just keep going.

Spike had thrown her for a loop. What else was new? One thing was certain: he was definitely not coming back into her life. She already set her mind on that and part of her was relieved. But there was another part of her that… cried.

………
………

Spike drowned himself in the silence of the night as he sat on the ledge of the open window of the hotel room with his feet dangling down the side of the building. Behind him, Angel rolled over on a creaky twin bed and snored.

The night was cold and it's air was somewhat refreshing, every so often washing over him, dousing him with a cleansing chilly blast. Spike sat, thinking about everything and thinking about nothing, but mainly thinking about the cigarette he was holding in his right hand and the Zippo lighter he clutched with his left.

His entire body was aching for a smoke. His entire body was shaking for a smoke. Spike thought about Dr. Travers. All he had been through. The talk about pain, the talk about violence, the talk about addictions.

He imagined the psychologist floating out in front of him and glancing at him with that stern frown and repeating "That’s an addiction. But it isn’t only an addiction. You crave it when you’re nervous. When you’re uneasy. There’s always a reason behind actions.”

"Right you are," he murmured, tightening his hold on the temptation in his hands. Oh, screw it. He hadn't had a smoke in what seemed like forever and if ever a time called for it, it was now.

He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and let it dangle as he flicked open the lighter, sighing at the familiar sight of the yellow-orange blaze springing up, contrasting with the darkness of the night. His hand cupped the lighter as he brought it to the tip of his cigarette and puffed gently, bringing in the flame. The smoke filled his mouth and he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dance up in the air, disappearing above him.

He sighed, bringing the burning cigarette away from his mouth.

What to think about, what to think about? Buffy sprang to his mind, but he closed his eyes, trying to drown out her image. God, how she looked at him. How she looked when she pushed him away, when she yelled at him. It hurt. Spike took another drag keeping his eyes closed.

What was he doing in New York? Besides to see Buffy? Angel had apparently already been accepted to the Manhattan School of the Performing Arts and would be starting next week. Tomorrow, they'd be looking into an apartment in Queens that was supposedly relatively cheap. Angel had told him about his plans to find work in the passing time and advised Spike to do the same.

But what was he doing here? Spike opened his eyes to look down at the street four floors below him. Los Angeles held nothing for him but despair and broken memories. None of them - the band members - had wanted to stay. Oz and Willow would be in Sunnydale, but did Sunnydale hold anything for him anymore? Uncle Rupes was there, but that was it. They had recently reconnected but it wasn't enough for him to want to go back to a town that would most certainly stifle him and bring back the old times that he so wanted to relive.

And so here he was in New York City. The Big Apple. There was potential here.

But most importantly, there was Buffy here.

But she doesn't want to see you… He wondered if seeing her had been a mistake. Maybe if he had just decided to leave her alone and let her live her own life, happily, everything would have been okay. But he saw her. He saw her on that stage, saw her up close, looked into her green eyes and read the confusion. How could he leave her.

A tiny part of him nagged at him, told him that if what he felt was real, he'd just want her to be happy, which she apparently was. Somewhat. But right now at this moment, the other ninety-nine percent of him told him he had to see her again. Maybe just one more time… or two more times… or a little more.

Maybe… maybe they could be friends again. Yeah, right. Buffy and you, great chums, laughing like old pals over hot chocolate and a football game… his mind sarcastically said as his inner-self rolled his eyes. Maybe not.

But maybe… maybe she'd let him close enough just to be near her. Maybe…

The cigarette was burning up fast and he smashed the end over the brick of the building and flung it to the ground before twisting his way back into the hotel room and shutting the window.


......
Author's Note: I realize some of you think Spike's being selfish... but I hope you guys stick with me anyways. He's not done changing yet... there's still a ways to go. The ending is satisfying, I promise. And I'd know because I finally outlined every single chapter after this and it pleased me, which is saying a lot since one of the reasons I put off writing this for so long was because I was so ... angry at the character I've created.

It's surprising because when I started this fic, it wasn't supposed to be as... dark. There was supposed to be angst, but Spike announcing his "love" for Drusilla in a show? Not planned. It was a spur of the moment hole that I dug myself into, mainly because I wanted to challenge myself - if I could make Spike stand up again after that and after all he's done, then I'd have truly proven myself as a writer. And after I finally got off my lazy ass and outlined everything, I'm satisfied. So, hopefully, that means you guys will be satisfied.

There's still a LOT of drama to come... mainly centered around Spike, Gabriel, and Buffy with Angel, Faith, and Kendra coming into the mix every once. And there's also a big surprise that'll be thrown in that I'm keeping to myself.

I'd like to thank everyone that's still with me ... the support's very much appreciated.

And... this has nothing to do with the story, but I'm also thinking about a beta. I'm finding more and more mistakes after I post that I probably should have caught earlier during my double and triple reading, but didn't... I'm also finding myself doing more research than what should be necessary... like "how to light up a cigarette" and in a few other stories "how to fire a gun." Trivial things like that that most people think is common knowledge but then realize to write about something as simple as that is actually very difficult. I'm not exactly sure how beta-ing works, since I came into the "fandom" relatively late and know... nobody. But if anybody thinks they can help me out with re-reading, trivial every-day things that I don't know about (like cooking, cigarettes, and the music industry), and Britifying Spike, I might just want to seek out your help.

And that's all. Sorry for this massive Author's Note... I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And don't forget to review! Reviews make me happy! =)





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