The day before…
“You’re being bloody ridiculous, Buffy.”
“No, seriously. I really don’t need you to buy me all of this stuff.”
Spike shook his head. “So, you don’t need a bed? Where exactly are you plannin’ on sleepin’ then?”
“The couch.”
“I don’t think so, luv. You’ve got your own room now and there’s no reason you could possibly give that would convince me that you shouldn’t sleep there. Which means, you still need t’ pick out somethin’.”
Buffy sighed. “But Spike, you really don’t need to spend any more money on me. I didn’t come here so you could buy me things. I-”
“Luv,” he said, taking her hands in his and turning her to face him. “Buffy, you came here so I could take care of you and that’s what I’m doin’. I’m gonna spend some money on you, but that would have happened with anyone who would look after you. Difference is, I have the means t’ make livin’ with me comfortable and I’m going t’ whether you like it or not.”
“But-”
“No. We’re done discussin’ this. Now stop arguin’ with me and pick somethin’ out.”
Buffy watched as the delivery men assembled the brand new mahogany bed that Spike had forced her to pick out. It was gorgeous, just the sort of thing she would have chosen without the pressure, but it was also entirely too expensive.
She’d had every intention of getting the basic steel-framed, mattress-only deal. Sure, he had pushed her into buying furniture, but that didn’t mean she had to buy something extravagant. Standing her ground, she told him she only wanted a simple bed and even though he didn’t agree with her, he had the salesman begin ringing everything up.
Unfortunately, Spike had caught her gazing wistfully at the mahogany set and purchased it instead. She had been furious, to say the least. How dare he! Going behind her back and spending all that money on…
Okay, now she had to admit she was being ridiculous. What the hell was she complaining about? Here was this great guy- her boyfriend- who wanted to buy this beautiful set of furniture and all she could do was bitch about it?
You are a total basketcase, Buffy. And now you owe Spike an apology for acting like such a jerk. Way to go!
It was hard for her though. Living with her father, it had practically been shoved down her throat that money was everything and that she wasn’t worth the modest price he paid for her to be there. At some point, she began to believe all of the horrible things he told her and now being with Spike, to whom money meant very little, she still had a hard time shaking the feeling she didn’t amount to the price of a Happy Meal.
Leaving her room, she went in search of Spike and Angel. She found them in the kitchen, unpacking dishes and setting them in the cupboards.
“I still think that astronauts could kick a caveman’s ass. They’ve got all that cool space equipment and there‘s this little thing called teamwork,” Angel said, throwing silverware into a drawer.
“You don’t know what the soddin’ hell you’re talkin’ about. Cavemen would clearly win. They’re all instinct and pure animal savagery. As opposed t’ your namby-pamby, self-analyzing wanker astronauts, cavemen-”
“Hey, Buffy!” Angel shouted a little too enthusiastically once he noticed her standing in the doorway.
Spike spun around and smiled sheepishly. “Luv, what are you doin’?”
“Standing here listening to the both of you argue about…astronauts and cavemen? How lame is that.”
Frowning, Spike leaned up against the counter. “I’ll have you know that it is a very important theoretical question. One that needs an answer. What do you think?”
Buffy thought about it for a minute before asking, “Do the astronauts have weapons?”
Just as Spike was about to answer, the delivery men came out of Buffy’s room and announced they were all finished with the assembly. Spike walked them to the door and made sure they were tipped well before returning to the kitchen.
“So, shall we see what the finished product looks like?”
“Sure,” she replied as she followed him to her room.
Not only had they assembled everything, but the delivery men had placed all of the furniture neatly against the white walls. There wasn’t anything that needed shuffling as far as she was concerned.
“See, pet, aren’t you glad we got these instead of your first choice?”
Buffy shrugged. “I guess so.”
Turning, he brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Only the best for my girl.”
“Look, Spike, I’m sorry about yesterday,”
His brow furrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“I mean, about fighting you on the whole furniture thing. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and I’m sorry I was such a pain yesterday when all you were trying to do was make me happy,” she told him.
“You don’t ever have t’ thank me, pet. That’s not why I’m doin’ this,” he replied, searching her face for a sign that she understood what he was getting at. “I care about you.”
Buffy blushed a dusty pink. “I care about you too.”
That wasn’t true. It was so much more than just caring about him now. If she were honest, it was closer to being head over heels, crazy in love with him. Not that she could ever tell him.
After the other night, she made a promise to herself that she would let him call the shots from now on. She couldn’t bear to have him reject her again; the first time was bad enough. Only if he said it first would she ever even consider telling him that she loved him.
“Um, what about sheets and stuff?” Yes, bedding was a better topic. Much more safe than her growing feelings for him.
He frowned. “Bloody hell, did we forget that? I guess we’ll need t’ go t’ the store tonight.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t need sheets, but then thought better of it.
“I guess so.”
After the twentieth ‘I guess so’, Spike began to worry. Buffy was entirely too agreeable today and that wasn’t like her. Normally, she was stubborn, argumentative, and uncooperative, which were all things he liked about her. But here lately, she couldn’t seem to say one word in opposition.
His biggest fear was that she would feel like she had to appease him, like she had been forced to do with her father. He knew he was a right bastard sometimes, but he never wanted to scare her in to submission. Unfortunately, that was exactly what it looked like he had done.
He wasn’t any good at this. There were too many problems within his own life that had remained unresolved, how could he even hope to help her with hers? He supposed he could always ask someone else to talk to her, but who? Anya? The woman had as much tact as a stampeding elephant.
No, this was something he would have to work through with her all by himself. Besides, he wanted- no, needed her to trust him and what better way to do that than to get her to open up to him.
Now he just had to figure out how he was going to accomplish that feat.
“So what are you two up to tonight?” Angel asked, plopping down on the soft leather couch.
“Gotta go pick up some linens for Buffy’s bed. Maybe grab some dinner,” Spike replied, then glared at his friend with a fair amount of suspicion. “Why?”
“What? Can’t a guy ask his buddy what his plans are for the night?” At Spike’s arched eyebrow, Angel sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. I don’t have anything to do and I was wondering if you and Buffy wanted to hang out with me.”
“How much longer are your women gonna keep you in the doghouse? ‘Cause honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can handle you being all…needy.”
Angel grinned. “Oh, I’d imagine they’ll be calling me pretty soon here. No way they could go without Daddy for too long.”
Rolling his eyes in disgust, Spike snorted. “Whatever. If you’d like t’ tag along-”
“Yes!”
Spike just shook his head. Bloody wanker. Truthfully, he felt sorry for the sod. Angel’s entire world revolved around women and while he liked to tell people he was completely detached from his conquests, Spike knew that he had invested much more than just time with his ladies. It was quite possible that Angel was in love with all of them, but the damned fool continued to deny he had any emotional attachments.
Good thing Angel’s brand of kink included room for a nice, big harem. Now, if only he could convince his women to be okay with the idea, the guy would be set.
That sort of thing wasn’t for him though. Sure, he had been with more than one woman at the same time, but the experience was lacking in his opinion. He might not have had any feelings for the women he had been with, but it was still intimate, just the way it was meant to be. One on one.
His thoughts trailed back to Buffy. When he and Buffy finally consummated their relationship, it would be nothing but intimate. He didn’t know that he had been longing for the type of connection that he had with Buffy until the day he realized that’s what they had. And that connection was bound to grow stronger as they got closer to true intimacy.
Sighing, Spike raked a hand through his hair. “We got everything out of the old apartment, right?”
Angel nodded. “Yep.”
“I have t’ go return the keys t’ the landlord. You’ll stay with Buffy ‘til I get back?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Slapping Angel in the shoulder, Spike stood up and grabbed the keys off the coffee table. “I’ll be back.”
It was beginning to become uncomfortably hot now that spring was almost officially over. When he had first moved to America, the climate change had been difficult for him. Coming from a cooler part of the world, he found Las Vegas to be unrelentingly harsh. But over time, he had grown quite accustomed to the summer heat and it helped that he was normally up and about only after the sun had gone down.
Making his way over to Sam Carlisle’s apartment, he was surprised to see the old man standing outside, talking to a couple of LVPD’s finest. It was pretty unusual for the cops to be around the apartment complex since Sam kept a tight rein on who he allowed to rent from him. There wasn’t much trouble in their small community even though they were centered in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city.
“If you have any more problems, Mr. Carlisle, don’t hesitate to give us a call, okay?”
Sam nodded. “I’ll do that. You boys have a nice day, eh?”
The two officers bid a final farewell and went off to where their patrol car was parked out on the street.
“Hey, Sam,” Spike greeted.
“Oh, Will, I didn’t see you coming, my boy. Come to give me those keys, have you?”
Spike nodded and handed him the ring of keys.
“Well, I bet you are glad to finally get into that bigger place. Must have been pretty crowded in the old one,” Sam said, a twinkle sparking in his ancient brown eyes.
Of course Sam knew about Buffy. Sam knew everything that went on in his apartments. Spike was a little surprised, though, that this was the first time Sam was mentioning it.
“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry I didn’t come an’ talk t’ you about-”
Sam waved off his explanation, “No need, my boy. You’re a good tenant, always paid your rent on time, never caused any trouble. I figured I’d just keep my nose out of this one.”
“Thanks,” Spike replied. “So, what was up with the cops? Nothin’ too serious, I hope.”
“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose,” Sam told him, beginning a shuffle towards his apartment. “I get this call from Agatha over in 12A saying there was this guy lookin’ in her window. So, I call the cops and they find him hiding in the bushes with a damn camera. Turns out he’s been taking pictures for a couple days now. Got pictures of everyone from the ground level apartments.”
Spike’s heart was thumping hard and fast. Okay, maybe this guy had nothing to do with Buffy. Maybe he was just a sick bastard who enjoyed looking in people’s windows. There was nothing to worry about, right?
On the other hand, maybe he should start worrying. If the guy was looking for Buffy then they had a serious problem. The only thing in their favor was that the guy apparently hadn’t gotten off the ground floor and it was possible that Buffy’s whereabouts were still unknown.
Shit! This was bad. Think, you soddin’ idiot, think!
“They arrested him?”
Sam laughed. “Oh, yeah. I imagine he’s locked up nice and tight in county right about now.”
That was another plus.
“You okay, boy? You look a bit pale.”
Shaking his dark thoughts, Spike nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Sam.”
Sam patted Spike’s shoulder. “You need more sleep. You kids today don’t sleep enough, going to those ravers and staying up all night. Damn downfall of our society, I’m telling you.”
“Yeah, a nap sounds really good. I’ll talk t’ you later, Sam,” Spike said, turning on his heel and walking back to his apartment.
He found Buffy and Angel in the kitchen when he returned.
“Are you okay, Spike?” Buffy asked, the little crease between her eyebrows pronounced with worry.
He was in a tight spot. He should tell her of the potential danger that was lurking around. If it turned out to be nothing, though, then she would have been unnecessarily put through the added stress and worry. Fuck!
“I’m fine, luv. Just a little hungry, I guess.”
“Well, you have been working hard all morning. I could make some sandwiches,” she offered cheerfully.
“Sure, pet. That sounds great.”
She grinned and busied herself with making lunch, completely unaware of the trouble that was plaguing him.
That’s because she trusts you. And you just lied to the girl, you sorry bastard.
One way or another, he’d have to get down to the bottom of this whole thing. He had to know for sure if that guy was working for her father or if he was just another random scumbag. And he knew just the person to ask.