Can you say awkward?
She didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. They had talked it through, hadn’t they? Agreed that everything was okay between them. Friends?
Spike hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction since the end of their conversation over four hours ago. At some point they’d both wandered over to the couch and put on some ridiculous movie on Comedy Central. A few forced chuckles was all she had heard out of him.
Being that she had no experience with any type of post-sex interactions, she was at a complete loss. And even if she’d had some experience, it probably wouldn’t have helped anyway considering the circumstances.
And to top it all off, she’d gotten her period. Thankfully, though, it had happened after the whole Spike-touchy-goodness or she would have been positively mortified. Of course now, she had to ask Spike to take her to the store since she had apparently forgotten to pack anything.
So, awkward silence? Check. Loss for words? Check. Uncomfortable distance between them? Check. Asking Spike to drive her to the drugstore to buy some feminine hygiene products? Uh…
“Spike?”
He suddenly froze in an odd position, both hands locked under his thighs and his mouth agape as if he was about ready to force another bark of laughter. Slowly, he turned to face her. He kind of looked like a deer in headlights.
“Buffy?”
“C-Could you take me to the store?” She bit her lip, hoping he didn’t ask her why she wanted to go.
Instantly, he loosened up and nodded. “Sure, luv. You want t’ go now?”
Expelling a huge sigh of relief, she replied, “Yeah, that would be good.”
Spike wandered up the magazine aisle while he waited for Buffy to finish her shopping. Picking up a copy of Rolling Stone, he flipped mindlessly through the pages.
He had really tried to put what happened that morning out of his mind, but it wasn’t working out that way. All he could seem to think about was how wonderful she had felt and then the inevitable guilt that followed.
Buffy seemed to be handling it pretty well. Not that he knew how she was supposed to be handling it since he’d never been in a situation like this one. He probably could have handled her anger better than this ‘let’s be friends’ crap.
There were lot’s of things he should be in regards to her, but friends shouldn’t have been one of them. Not after this morning, maybe before, but not now.
She had said she liked it and he didn’t know how to deal with that either. A big, sick part of him reveled in the fact that she had enjoyed it. The other…well, at this point, he was trying not to hear the angel on his shoulder telling him he was a creep to have even looked in her direction to begin with.
Seeing Buffy coming towards him with a basket in her hand, he put the magazine back on the shelf and started off to meet her halfway.
“Find everything you were lookin’ for?”
Her cheeks were bright pink and he glanced down in her basket. Oh. Hence the urgent trip to the store.
“Yeah.” Her eyes were downcast, looking at the dirty white tile under her shoes.
It was obvious she was embarrassed. Not that she had any cause around him since he was not bothered by it in the least. He worked with about twenty-five cocktail waitresses and they tended to talk about their womanly problems regardless of the audience. Oh, he’d heard it all.
Besides, women were magnificent creatures, in his opinion. No matter what went on with their bodies. Nothing to be ashamed about.
Sensing she probably didn’t want to talk about; he gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s get outta here then.”
They walked over to the register where a kid with a pierced eyebrow and blue-streaked hair stood, ringing up the items of the person in front of them. Buffy put her items on the counter and waited for her turn.
“Hey,” the kid said, leering at her.
“Uh, hi.”
Spike took a deep breath. Already the kid was trying his patience and if he didn’t just get to moving, there was a chance that Spike’s evil twin might come out to introduce himself.
“I’m Kyle,” he told her, pointing to his name tag. “And what’s your name, baby girl?”
“Buffy.”
“Sweet,” he replied, picking up the box of tampons without looking at it.
That’s right, you wanker. Just ring it up so we can get the bloody hell out of here.
Kyle moved to put it in a bag, but suddenly stopped when he realized what was in his hand. His eyebrows went up in a question, the leer returning to his face. “So, super absorbency. Are you easy?”
At first Spike didn’t hear the kid. Well, he didn’t think he heard the kid right, at least. But with the combination of the words sinking into his head and Buffy’s bewildered expression, he saw red.
Grabbing the kid by the front of his blue shirt, Spike pulled him over the register and threw him against the cigarette cabinet. The box of tampons flew out his hand and landed ten feet away.
“Hey man!” The kid screamed, his back thumping against the glass as Spike shoved him repeatedly.
“Don’t you ever talk t’ her like that, you fuckin’ little punk.” His voice was low and full of deliberate menace. He wanted to kill, tear the kid limb from limb, take some pliers to his piercings, anything to make the pillock realize he should never fuck with another man’s property.
And so was the thought that crossed his mind: Buffy belonged to him.
“I-I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”
It wasn’t the kid’s begging nor the manager’s hand grabbing at his shoulder that finally stopped him. Looking over at Buffy, all he saw was the fear in her eyes. Fear of him.
Dropping the kid on the floor, he started towards her, but she backed away from him.
“Buffy…”
She shook her head in a silent order to stay away from her.
“You get out of here!” The manager yelled out behind him.
Spike spun around to face the chunky middle-aged manager. “Me?! You’ve got t’ be bloody kidding me? Your employee was harassing this girl and you ‘ave the fuckin’ nerve t’ tell me t’ get out!”
“I’ll call the police,” the manager threatened.
“Yeah, you do that, asshole. Call ‘em so I can-”
“Spike, please, let’s just go,” Buffy called out.
Turning around, he studied her for a moment. The fear was still there, it wasn’t as predominant, but there nonetheless. God, he was such an idiot. He was really doing a great job of getting her to trust him with everything that had happened that morning and now this.
“Right,” he said before marching over to the box that was now resting next to a display of Las Vegas-themed merchandise. Picking the box up, he stomped back over to the register and slapped a twenty down on the counter. “Keep the change.”
He grabbed Buffy’s hand and made it half-way to the door before he stopped and faced the kid. “I ever see you again…you better ‘ope you’re wearin’ fast runnin’ shoes ‘cause tubby over there won’t be around t’ save your ass next time.”
The ride back to the apartment was uncomfortable at best.
As soon as they pulled up to the building, Buffy jumped off and ran up the stairs. Spike was right behind her, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Buffy, you don’t have t’ run from me.”
She frowned. Is that what he thought she was doing? “I wasn’t running from you. I was…” She held the box up and shook it, her eyebrows raised.
Realization dawned on him and his eyes widened. “Oh. Right, then.” He fiddled with the door for a moment before getting it open.
Once she was safely inside the bathroom, she took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. This day was not going well.
It would be a lie if she said Spike’s outburst in the store hadn’t freaked her out. All she could see was her father in Spike’s rage and it was just as if she had never gotten away from him in the first place.
Did she think that Spike would ever be that way with her? She honestly didn’t know. There was a time when she would never have thought her father capable of hitting her, but he had and she knew now just how capable he was. Could she trust Spike anymore than she could trust her own flesh and blood father?
At this point, she was skeptical.
Then again, Spike had been provoked in a way. When Kyle had said that to her, she honestly didn’t have a clue how handle it. She was angry and shocked, but after years of having to swallow her emotions, all she could do was stand there, frozen.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Luv? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, when you’re finished, I think we really need t’ talk.”
She heard his footsteps going down the hall and she quickly finished up.
When she left the bathroom, she found him sitting at the kitchen table, a cigarette between his fingers.
Déjà vu, she thought as she sat down across the table from him.
“Buffy, I feel as though I owe you an explanation,” he told her, taking a drag off the cigarette before setting it down in the ashtray.
Explanation? For what? She expected him to apologize, not explain, since she kind of already knew why he did it.
He took a deep breath, his chest puffing out. “When I was little, my dad was a right bastard. He used t’ beat me and mum when he was drunk.”
“I’m sorry, William. That’s horrible.” She knew from experience just how horrible it was and there wasn’t anything she wanted more than to tell him she understood, but she couldn’t.
He smiled softly before continuing. “He left when I was ten, but I guess I never got over the anger. I do a lot of stupid things, Buffy, but I would never hurt you. I hope you know that.”
She wanted so much to believe him, but after this afternoon, how could she?
“I just couldn’t stand t’ see that wanker talk t’ you that way, pet. You deserve so much more than that and I did the only thing I thought I could do. Right or wrong, I only did it t’ protect you.”
Her eyes darted up to his and felt a shudder go through her. His expression was raw with emotion and she felt any doubts slip away. There may be some similarities between her father’s and Spike’s temper, but that’s where the comparison stopped. Her father didn’t care about her, but Spike…
He made her feel safe and protected. Even the morning before when she had tried to sneak out, he was only trying to keep from leaving so she wouldn’t get herself hurt. His temper had flared more than once with her, but he had never harmed her in any way.
“Buffy? Say somethin’.”
Flying leap? Here went nothing.
“I want to tell you…why I ran.”
Well…love it? Hate it? I’m really not sure myself, you be the judge. : - ) ~Jae