“Why won’t you at least tell me where you are?” Cecily demanded over the phone, a slight whine in her already nasally voice.
“Cause I don’t see the point,” Spike said for what felt like the thousandth time in the course of a half hour.
“William, we can work this out, just tell me where you are. Meet somewhere at least!”
“No, Cec. It’s over. We can’t work it out this time, you know we can’t. We can barely stand each other and you know it!”
“But I want us to fix it,” Cecily wailed and burst into tears. “I don’t understand, William. We don’t need to be head over heels in love. How many married couples do you know that are?”
“I reckon that’s the problem with the world today.”
“So noble all of a sudden. I know you’ve been with other women, William. I knew you were cheating on me and I let it happen cause I figured ‘well, at least he comes home to me’.”
“You’re missing the point, Cec. I had no choice but to return to you.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I was afraid of what you’d do to me if I didn’t.”
“William, just come home. Nothing will happen to you if you just come home,” she said, sniffling.
“Cecily, if you loved me as you say you do, you’d not only let me go but you’d make it so nothing happens to me now,” Spike told her firmly, hoping that would penetrates some human part of her. Truth be told he was actually quite surprised to have heard from her, and in such a manner of wanting to work things out after it had been quite clear – by his moving out—that things were past working out.
“I know I have my faults, William, but so do you. We can work on them. Together. Move past them and build the life we had dreamt of building so long ago. Remember that? Remember when we used to lie together and plan our life and how happy it’d be?”
Spike almost had to laugh. It was funny really to look back on things with another. It made you realize how different perceptions could be. He’d heard once that there were three sides to every story: Your side, another’s side and the truth. He didn’t remember planning their future together the way she most obviously did. He remembered feeling impending doom, feeling that perhaps he should have reconsidered. He’d felt as though an iron fist had grasped his body and wouldn’t let go of him for anything. His soul had been given away and all that had been left over the years was the shell of a man. Cecily would plan, William blindly agreed, but never fully engaged in her plans.
As much of a bitch as Cecily was, it dawned on William that perhaps he’d help mold her into what she was. When she’d been forging ahead and thinking things were fine, he’d been having doubts and pulling back, only going through with it because he felt it was his last shot at a life, that this was very definitively it for him. They were, quite simply, wrong for one another. The problem was Cecily didn’t know any better. She didn’t spend her time on introspection, she lived life, didn’t think about life. In her mind they were married and married was how they were to stay. He felt bad for her in a way. She simply didn’t know any better, and if she did, she didn’t want to. Cecily just wanted what she had and never wanted more – and whatever she did want it always had a price tag. She could just buy it, or it was bought for her. She never wanted for anything. It was probably throwing her for a loop that Spike no longer came with one.
They didn’t fit. They weren’t fitted puzzle pieces –hell, they weren’t even in the same puzzle at all. How could he completely fault her for not getting it, or for not understanding resistance when she’d never encountered it before? Hadn’t he been easily bought like everything else in her life?
It was time for honesty, and not in of the insulting variety. “I was wrong, Cecily. I shouldn’t have married you. I’m sorry, and I know you probably don’t understand it--”
“I understand that someone’s turned you against me, that’s what I understand.” Now she sounded angry.
“Cecily, I haven’t been in love with you for a very long time.”
Silence, then, “Were you ever, William?”
“I think I fancied myself to be so, but no, I don’t think I was.”
“You always did know how to hurt me, William.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something? Doesn’t that tell you how bad we are for one another?”
“It tells me that you toyed with me all this time, even when I gave you what you wanted! I let you fool around on me and I never said boo—and you still left me!”
“Cecily…how did you know about all that?”
“I’m not stupid, William. I suspected for a long time.”
“Will you use it in our divorce?”
“You’ll be lucky if I give you one at all,” she snapped and hung up.
Settling back in his chair, Spike sighed wearily. But before he got too comfortable, the phone rang and he automatically tensed, preparing for another round with Cecily.
“Hello?”
“William, my boy. I have some news. You have an appointment tomorrow afternoon at one with Lindsey McDonald and Liam O’ Connor. Got a pen handy? I want to tell you where they are, and their number to call to confirm in the morning.”
Doyle grinned at her as he squeezed her hand while they waited in line at the roller coaster—Buffy’s favorite ride. Doyle had, as it turned out, decided to take her to the carnival that Willow had mentioned. Her friend had been right, Buffy always wanted to go to one on a date. And chances were if Willow knew it, then so did Doyle. Which in a way bothered her and in a way made things much easier. But--where was all the mystery and excitement of getting to know someone if you went out with someone that already knew you inside and out?
She had been nervous about going out with him, thinking that something about her demeanor had to change, something about them had to change. She had to impress him in some way, didn’t she? It just seemed like something you had to do on a date. Impress them. Dazzle them. In essence: Be someone you weren’t until you felt relaxed enough to be yourself.
And then she remembered: This was Doyle. Doyle, who she belched in front of, Doyle who had massaged her feet while pregnant and got to hear about all her bodily functions. Doyle, who had seen her in labor for crying out loud. After seeing it all hang out, what else was there really for him to discover about her? That was when she remembered: Kissing. Wasn’t it the customary period to the end of a date? Oh God – was she going to have to kiss Doyle? That caused her nervousness to come back full force.
“Does it bother you that I’m holding your hand?”
She looked up at him, “What?”
“Does it bother you that I took your hand? You’ve been staring at our entwined hands since I grabbed it.”
“I have?”
“Yep. And you’ve been alternating between being here with me, and then not. Am I boring you, lass?”
She smiled apologetically. “No Doyle, you’re not. I’m having a great time.”
“Then what’s so heavy on your mind, hmmm? You’ve called Willow to check up on Brandon a few dozen times and you know he’s all right, so… what is it?”
“The kissing,” she blurted out.
He blinked and then he looked nervous. That was so…comforting, actually. In fact, it was really comforting. To know that somewhere inside him he was just as nervous as she was took a gigantic load off her shoulders.
“What kissing?”
“The kiss that you have at the end of a date.”
“Do you want to have the kiss at the end of our date?”
“I don’t know…that’s what I’m stressing about.” God, she felt like an idiot. She was also acutely aware that the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.
“This, I reckon, would be about the time where I say ‘Well, let’s get it over with and kiss now’.”
“But?”
“How’d you know there was a but?”
She gave him a look. “It’s you, remember?”
He grinned. “Right. Well, I’m not going to say it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t see why it has to be an issue. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I put it in your hands.”
“In my hands? You’re putting it in my hands? Gee, and here I thought you were going to take the pressure off me,” she grumbled.
“You think you’re the only one with pressure here?”
Nibbling on her bottom lip, Buffy nodded and shrugged. “Kind of.”
“Well, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
Buffy had to laugh at that. “That so?”
“Yes. I’ve been just as wound up as you I imagine. But you know what’s helped?”
“What?”
“The fact that no matter what: You’re my best friend. No matter what, I am not going to let anything happen where I lose you. Nothing is so serious that you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I don’t want one night to define what will happen between us, Buffy.”
He was right, of course. This night didn’t have to define what would happen from there on out. And so far – she’d been having a great time, laughing, talking, eating, going on rides and laughing some more -- And all with her best friend; all with Doyle. It hadn’t been the disaster she’d thought it was going to be. Quite the opposite and if she had those moments of doubt, well then it was all on her, not him.
Smiling, she leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him quickly, right on the lips. “Thank you.”
He smiled softly and brushed some hair from her face. “You’re welcome.”
“You said that so I’d kiss you, didn’t you?”
Doyle laughed. “Can’t be revealing all my secrets now can I?”
“And to make sure I’d go out with you again.”
“Now, how do you know I want to go out with you again?”
Smiling saucily at him – a move that stunned her – she said, “Oh, you definitely want to go out with me again. How could you not?” Oh God, she thought, I just flirted with Doyle!
“You’re right about that, lass. How could I not?” he agreed, grinning back—a gleam in his eyes that was actually so familiar a gleam…