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58. Disappointments and Promises


The garden outside Tara’s house was quiet in the middle of the night. During the day, you could hear the lull of the passing traffic going by not too far away from the other side of the bougainvillea bushes. But at night, the garden could have been anywhere.

They hadn’t spoken in a while now, and the cool of the night was beginning to make this non-activity uncomfortable. Laying a sisterly hand on his shoulder, Tara leaned in close to whisper, “You gonna be all right, Spike?”

“Sure, Tara. I’m fine,” the lie was so ingrained now, it was hard to respond any other way. Gunn could have driven him home, but he’d decided to stop and visit Tara first. A short stay had somehow turned into something much longer, although nothing much had been said until they found themselves alone in the garden as night was beginning to fall. It just wasn’t something he felt comfortable talking about with Red hanging out, listening in the background.

He just hadn’t had the heart to go home. Somehow the big house just seemed so much more lonely now that Dawn no longer lived there. And the memories he had of his night with Buffy were still too raw to consider. He tried to shrug his recent troubles away. Really, the little stint he’d just spent in jail was the least of his worries now that everything was sorted. It was Buffy’s reaction to him that he still found puzzling. He didn’t know whether to love her or to hate her, mostly because he wasn’t sure whether she loved or hated HIM. “Just a little of the hard tackle trying to scare me. Never did have any teeth behind it.”

Tara smiled, but her eyes were kind. “I’m sure it didn’t feel that way while you were spending the night in a jail cell. That must have been traumatizing.”

“I’ve been worse places,” he shrugged. “Still, wouldn’t say no to a cuppa tea.” She was too sweet to say anything, but he could tell that Tara had had enough of the great outdoors. Once upon a time he’d been able to share his troubles with Joyce over a cup of hot chocolate, and he’d loved that as well. Of course in both cases it was the company more than the warmth of the liquid that he craved.

Bitterly, it occurred to him to wondered if Buffy had her mother’s secret chocolate recipe. Other than at the coffee shop, he and Buffy had never had the opportunity to talk in the kitchen over a warm beverage. If he had it all to do over again, he’d have forced her to sit in the kitchen with him that night, rather than letting her take him upstairs. Sharing a cuppa in the kitchen was a highly under rated pleasure. He sighed over his cup and let the steam warm his face, determined to leave all the unpleasantness behind him. “It’s all over, fine’s been paid. No harm done. Best to move on.”

“Moving on is good,” Tara agreed, cupping her hands around the warm bowl and letting the warmth seep into her soul. She knew what they weren’t talking about as much as what they were. “But I’d hardly agree that no harm was done. Aside from the personal injustice, there’s the money, which was not inconsiderable, especially when you add in the fact that you’re forbidden to do business in any of those countries for the next five years. As if that wasn’t enough, the scandal was in all the papers.”

“Scandal’s good publicity. Besides, some people are coming down on my side. Think I did the right thing. It’ll blow over.” He smiled into his cup, “Not sexy enough to keep the public’s attention that long.”

“You mean you’re not sexy enough, or the crime isn’t?”

“You know I mean the crime. I’m a right sexy bloke. If you didn’t turn the other way, we’d have been an item long ago, whether you won the Client/Patient Ethics Award or not.”

“You know I’m seeing someone, Spike.” Willow had been there all afternoon. They were practically living together now. She was waiting upstairs for her now, probably already asleep.

“Yeah, I know. I’d best be going then, leave you two lovebirds alone. Thanks for the cuppa and the conversation. You're a good friend, Tara.”

“You know I’ll always be here for you Spike. Any time.”

He was glad that Tara had finally found someone that seemed right for her. It was late, and he had his own home to go back to. He should let his friend enjoy her new lover. He had no doubt that Tara would always make time for him whenever he needed her. But it was time to go back to standing on his own two feet. Buffy would have to come to her own decisions. “Ta, luv. Thanks.”

~*~


“You stupid, worthless piece of shit!” Angelus held Warren by his shirt and was breathing into his face. Really, in a physical contest between the two, there was no uncertainty about the outcome. “What do you mean telling me he’s out on bail? I thought you said that English ponce had clout. A fucking day and a half and he’s out?” If Warren hadn’t been scared shitless, he would have complained about the fetid smell of Angel breath and spit that escaped his mouth as he yelled.

“Angelus, calm down.” If Warren thought that he could have avoided the big man’s wrath he would have tried to scamper away. As it was, he knew it was hopeless. All he could do was try to reason with the behemoth. Yeah, as if that ever worked. But when it was all you had left, you had to go for it.

“You’re not listening. That wasn’t the big finale. Not even close. Just an appetizer, a little tease before the big one so he’ll have had a taste of what its going to be like when he’s put away for the rest of his life. Remember the plan?” As Angelus eased up, Warren extricated himself and tried to straighten his sweater. “Thorndale hasn’t suffered nearly enough yet. Before he’s shut away, he needs to know, needs to see everyone he ever cared about destroyed. Just like Drusilla, that’s what you said. In order for that to happen, he needs to be free. This little indictment was never part of the plan anyway. Things need to happen slowly, in order, just like we discussed.”

“I could kill you, you know.”

“Yes,” Warren gasped, his tongue suddenly felt like concrete in his mouth. It’s not even like Rayne would care. “But you’re too smart for that. You know I could still be useful.”

“Useful,” Angelus snorted. “Like a bag of dog shit. Still, I bet you’d make a great flaming pile of crap if it comes down to it. Send the old man a message – deliver it right to his office. That’d make an impression. What do you think?”

“I think you’d do much better not to piss Mr. Rayne off. Keep things civilized. Give it a day or two, and if you’re still unhappy, I’ll arrange another meeting and you two can hammer it out. But if things play out the way they’re supposed to…I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” Warren wasn’t really privy to his master’s plans, but he had to say something. It sounded good, didn’t it? That is, he knew Rayne was planning something big, he just didn’t know what form it would take.

“I don’t like this cat and mouse. Why won’t you just tell me what you have planned?”

“I’m sorry, if I knew the details, believe me, I’d tell you. All I know is that Rayne claims he has a way to handle Ms. Summers. First Buffy, then Dawn. There’ll be nothing Thorndale will be able to do to help either one of them. And believe me, I’ve been around Rayne long enough to know that he means what he says. Just wait for it. Then, after he’s gotten to the girls, Rayne will go for Spike. Something that will really stick this time. Something he can’t wriggle his way out of with a smile and fine. I’m sure of it.”





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