Buffy followed Anya up the cement steps with handfuls of store bags.
“See, I told you shopping helps clear the mind,” Anya said as they reached the landing.
They had been gone for hours, visited almost every store that the mall had, and not once did her father ever enter her thoughts. Spike seemed to occupy a lot of them though.
“Yeah, I had a great time, Anya. Thanks for taking me,” Buffy replied, setting her bags down so that she could open the front door of Spike’s apartment.
Suddenly, she found herself being bear-hugged by Anya. “You know if you ever need something, you can come to me or Xander. I feel like I’ve finally got that little sister that Mom said would spread her hips.”
Buffy patted Anya’s back hesitantly. “Thanks.” I think?
With one last squeeze, Anya released Buffy and said her goodbyes before going into her own apartment, leaving Buffy somewhat dazed. For the first time in three years, she finally felt like there were people out that who truly cared about her.
She couldn’t ever go back to her father’s, not after her eyes had been opened. There had always been some part of her that questioned whether or not she had deserved the punishments her father had dished out. Maybe if she were more obedient or quieter then he wouldn’t have to hurt her.
But then the part of her that was raised by her mother and later by Giles told her that was complete bull. No one deserved to be beaten or treated badly especially not by their parent. And she had done nothing wrong, yet her father had felt her behavior had warranted his punishments.
There probably wasn’t a person on this planet who she hated more than Hank Summers. Hate was a strong word and an even stronger emotion to be feeling about a father, but she couldn’t express it any better. If she never saw him again, she would be a happy person.
But she was deluded if she thought he would never pursue her.
Well, there went her shopping high.
Opening the door, she dragged her bags into the apartment and set them down by the couch. She heard Spike’s voice from the kitchen and decided to see what he was up to.
“Yeah, two bedroom,” he said into the phone, while leaning over the counter.
Who was he talking to? And what was he talking about? Two bedrooms?
He glanced up at her, a smile easing his serious features. ‘Hi,’ he mouthed, motioning for her to sit down at the kitchen table.
“No, that’s fine. Next Wednesday? That’s great. No, we’ll be ready. Thanks, Mr. Carlisle.” Spike hung up the phone and moved over to the table, pulling a chair out and flipping it backwards before straddling it.
“How was the shoppin’, luv?” He asked.
Was he just going to leave her in the dark or what? She knew that she didn’t have any business prying into his phone calls, but if it had to do with moving she felt kind of entitled to the news.
“It was fun.” Digging into her jeans’ pocket, she pulled out the leftover cash and held it out to him. “I didn’t spend it all.”
He shook his head. “Keep it. I gave it to you, Buffy.”
Looking down at the money in her hand, she contemplated arguing with him. She didn’t really want his money, not if there was a chance he might think that she was trying to take advantage of his generosity. Deciding she was better off doing as he said, she stuffed the money back into her jeans.
“So, that was Mr. Carlisle, my landlord,” he told her, gesturing to the phone.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Mmhmm. Asked him if he had any two-bedroom units.”
“Spike, I don’t want to make you move just because of me. You can take the bedroom back. I am totally fine with the couch,” Buffy replied.
“No. We need a bigger place, luv. You need your own space.”
Her own space? What did that mean? Maybe he had changed his mind about her and whatever it was that they were doing. Her lengthy conversations with Anya had not even begun to clear up the mystery that was her and Spike. Now, she wasn’t sure that there was a her and Spike.
“I’m fine,” she said vehemently. “Really, you don’t even have to worry about me. I’ll just take the couch and-”
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her eyes were wide, as if that would help to convince him that she wasn’t losing it. “I am fine. Way fine.”
A corner of his lips lifted into a sideways smile. “Well, I’m not goin’ t’ debate that, but I thought we were gonna try the whole bein’ honest thing. And you’re not really convincin’ me.”
Sighing, she looked down at the table. “It’s just, I don’t want to put you out. You are being way too nice to me as it is. I really don’t need my own space.”
“Maybe not, but I do.”
Her eyes shot up at that, feeling like she had been slapped. Did that mean that she was crowding him? That she was being too needy? Did he not want her around anymore?
“I-I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For causing so much trouble. I’m sorry that I put you in the middle of this.” She could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to escape.
This is exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen. For him to be stuck dealing with her and her problems when it really wasn’t his responsibility. But he would take care of it because he was a good man whether he wanted to or not and now she felt like a total leech.
Grabbing her hand, he tugged on it a little until she was looking him straight in the eye. “You’re not an…inconvenience. Bloody hell, pet, that’s not what I meant at all.”
She wasn’t sure how she could interpret it any different. He needed his space…away from her. Surely, that meant he didn’t want her around. It was a logical conclusion, in her mind.
“I haven’t lived with someone since before I left for university, luv. And that was almost ten years ago,” he explained. “It’s not going t’ be the easiest transition for me t’ make havin‘ somebody share my space.”
“Oh.” She felt stupid. It would be hard to make room for someone else when you’d lived alone for so long, she supposed. Never having lived alone, she couldn’t really relate, but it made sense.
“You’re here now, Buffy. I’m not tryin’ t’ push you away because there isn’t anywhere on the planet I’d rather you be than right here with me,” he said softly, his thumb coming up to wipe away the wet trail of an escaped tear.
“Okay.”
“It’s been crazy these past few days, I know. And I can’t even imagine what you went through t’ get here, but I’m tryin’ t’ make it good for you. I’m at a bleedin’ loss here, though. So, you gotta work with me if we’re gonna make this thing fly, yeah?”
She nodded, wiping the remainder of her tears away. “Yeah, I’ll try to help, Spike.”
“Good.” Then grinning, he said, “So you gonna show me what you bought?”
Glancing at the clock, Spike let out a groan. He had to be to work in an hour and he almost gave into the bad idea of calling in sick, but he quickly dismissed it. Cordelia wouldn’t let him get away with pulling something like that. She’d drive herself over to his apartment and drag him back to work by his ear.
She had done it before.
He had switched shifts with Angel last week and now he was stuck with the early shift for the next several days. The good part about it was that he’d be able to come home a little earlier.
“I’ve got t’ get ready for work, luv,” he told Buffy, watching her frown a little in confusion.
“But it’s only four o’clock. I thought you worked late,” she replied, setting a box of shoes on the floor where she was unpacking her purchases.
“I know, I traded with another bartender. I’m workin’ the five t’ one shift until Sunday.”
“So you’ll be home early then?” Her hazel eyes lit up in excitement.
He chuckled. “Well, as early as one in the morning is, I s’pose. But I don’t expect you’ll still be up an’ about though.”
“No, I will be. I’m kind of a night owl,” she informed him.
Sweet girl.
When she had gone with Anya he’d had a few hours alone to mull over his wild thoughts. The decision to get a bigger apartment was borne out of his time spent thinking about how to give Buffy the environment she needed.
While things were not exactly platonic between them, he knew that the nitty gritty of it was that he was her provider, her protector. And so far, he was doing a piss poor job of giving her what she needed. Mostly he had been thinking about what he needed and that was sliding dangerously into a territory he wasn’t yet ready to explore.
He wanted nothing more than to be with her. To be able to touch her and teach her the ways of pleasure. But he knew that while she was very mature and intelligent, she was still only just sixteen. What kind of provider and protector was he if all he wanted to do was to get her into bed?
No, there more important things. She was more important. Her safety and happiness should be the only things he wanted to give her. So he would try his damnedest to reign in his overactive sexual appetite and be the man she needed.
After showering and getting dressed for work, Spike moved around the apartment gathering his keys and wallet.
“So, I’ll be home around one, then. I want you t’ lock this door behind me and don’ answer it for anyone other than me or Xander and Anya. Got it?”
Her face was quirked up into an expression that could only be described as deeply disturbed.
“What?” He asked.
“You sounded like Giles.”
Uh, yeah. That was slightly disturbing him too. Never in all of the thoughts about being an adult and providing for her had being her father figure ever crossed his mind. In fact, the more he thought about his little pre-leaving speech, the more in made him want to run from the apartment screaming.
“I hadn’t meant it t’ come out that way. I just wanted t’ impart on you the serio-” He threw his arms up in the air. “Buggerin’ hell! What am I doin’? Channeling?”
Buffy giggled. “Yep, I think you are definitely channeling Giles. You sounded just like him.”
He glared at her. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically.
Turning towards the door, he stopped when she heard him call out his name.
“Yeah, pet?”
Before he could stop her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips. His eyes closed at the blissful taste of her mouth and he wrapped an arm around her waist.
She pulled back suddenly and gave him a wide grin. “Have a good day at work.”
Pulling up to the back entrance to The Blue Temple, Spike turned his bike off.
He couldn’t get the little pixie back at his apartment out of his head. Just when he thought he had everything under control, she kissed him. This wasn’t going to get any easier, was it?
The club was pretty quiet, most of the staff had yet to arrive, and the only person he saw was Andrew, who was playing with the lighting controls.
“Spike.”
Crap! He was hoping that Cordelia had decided to come in late, but apparently she was early.
“Hey, Cordy!” He said brightly as he spun around to face her.
“Don’t ‘hey Cordy’ me. You have some explaining to do,” she told him, then turned to walk towards her office. “C’mon, the quicker you spill, the less painful it’ll be.”
Right, he thought, following after her. Less painful, my ass.
A/N: Okay, I’m kind of confused. What happened to all of my reviewers? The last chapter had only half of my normal reviewers. Did I go way out in left field with Ch. 13? Or worse, is it getting uninteresting? I hate to be all needy, but I’m feeling like I dropped the ball. ~Jae