“You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
“New York.”
“New York? What the hell is in New York?”
Buffy stood, wringing her hands as she paced next to the bed. She had been so sure that leaving was the best thing to do, but now…no. She couldn’t-wouldn’t-allow herself to make any more decisions based on what relationship she was in. No matter how much she wanted to stay with him.
“A fresh start,” she answered quietly.
Spike jumped out of her bed, grabbing his pants from their spot on the floor. Angrily, he shoved his legs inside. He didn’t speak again until he had them buttoned and zipped.
“A fresh start?” Spike could smack himself for sounding so ridiculous, repeating everything she was saying, but he could not believe what he was hearing. “So, you have no plan? Just thought New York would be as good a place as any to up and leave everyone who cares about you?”
“That’s not fair! I hate living here, in this house! And you made it pretty clear that you never wanted to see me again-.”
“So this is my bloody fault? After the stunt you pulled? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time I took forgiving you was so inconvenient!”
“I never said that, and it certainly doesn’t sound like you’ve forgiven me!”
Spike grabbed his other articles of clothing, throwing on the shirt without bothering to button it. “It’s a work in progress.” He paused in front of her, holding his things in his arms. “Don’t see how it’s going to work, with you being on the other side of the country and all.”
“Spike-.”
“I think I should go.” Buffy reached out to stop him, but he evaded her grasp. “I-I have to go.”
It took Buffy a full minute before she ran after Spike. She ran as fast as she could down the hallway, the staircase and out the front door into the driveway. Surprised to see his car still parked there, she spun around and found that she had run right past him. Spike was sitting on the step, still holding his things, staring off. She doubted he’d even heard her come barreling out of the house.
Buffy took a seat next to him, placing a hand on his arm. “I didn’t think you would ever want me back.”
Spike turned to look at her. The sadness in his blue orbs showed her how deep his feelings for her were. “Never didn’t want you, not really.”
Buffy chose her next words very carefully. “I have to do this. For me.” She took his hand in hers, kissing his palm. “When I made this decision, I had no reason to stay in California. If I stay here now – well, I don’t want to be that girl anymore.”
Spike hung his head. After everything, he was losing her.
A tiny finger lifted his head back up to meet Buffy’s soft lips. She kissed him slowly, pouring her heart into the kiss. “It doesn’t have to be the end,” she whispered to him, her mouth still against his. “It can’t be. Not when I’m so in love with you.”
“When do you leave?”
“New Year’s Day.”
Six days. Less than a week to work it out. It wasn’t much time, but it was enough. Buffy loved him and he loved her; they would find a way to work out the rest.
In those six days, Buffy and Spike did everything they had never been able to do in Sunnydale. Things normal couples took for granted. It was liberating to be able to hold his hand and kiss him in public. No one in L.A. knew that he was a professor and she had been a student. They spent as much time together as possible, knowing that all too soon they would be separated.
Only once had they spoken about what would happen when the week was over. Buffy needed time by herself to get settled, but by then Spike would be back at work. He wouldn’t have time off to visit her until March. Buffy knew this was a good thing, that it would give her more than enough time to settle in and develop a routine, but March seemed so far away. It wasn’t his fault, so she tried not to let him see how upsetting the thought was to her, instead, told him she couldn’t wait for his visit.
Spike had wanted to take her out for New Year’s Eve, but Buffy preferred to be at home with him. Her parents weren’t due back until the next day-arriving after her departure- and she wanted to spend her last night in California alone with Spike. And alone they were, after letting the household staff go home early for the holiday.
Downstairs in the theater room, Buffy and Spike sat together on one of the couches eating from a box of pizza. It wasn’t the romantic meal Spike had envisioned, but it was perfect all the same. Neither of them spoke of the invisible ticking clock that seemed to be looming over their heads. They had each come to terms with the situation on their own, and were ready to make the best of it to salvage their relationship.
They made love as the crowd on television anxiously awaited the New Year. They barely heard the announcers or performers, too focused on each other and the sensations building with each touch and thrust. Each kiss was a promise that everything would be fine.
Buffy’s legs and arms wrapped tightly around Spike in a desperate need to feel as much of his skin on hers as she could. He panted above her, breathing words of love into her hair, and raining kisses over her face. The countdown was ignored as they both neared climax. Buffy came mere seconds before Spike cried out her name, spilling his warm seed deep inside her.
Five…four…three…two…one.
The crowd on the screen went wild as the ball reached its final destination. Spike leaned down to capture Buffy’s lips in a searing kiss.
“Happy New Year, baby.”
Wrapped in his arms, kissing him, Buffy could not see why it wouldn’t be.