A/N: Grrr! RL has really hindered my updating efforts here lately. Many apologies for the lack of…sometimes it’s just unavoidable, you know? Anywho, thanks for all my wonderful reviews for the last chapter, although I’m surprised no one noticed that I named it Ch. 21 even though it was actually Ch. 22. lol! I didn’t even notice until tonight. Hope you all enjoy! ~Jae
Thursday came and went, but Buffy had yet to confront Spike about his all-to-obvious lying. By Friday morning, she was beginning to think she’d lost her nerve.
Every scenario she could conjure up had Spike either brushing her worries aside or getting very upset. Neither was inspiring confidence to call him on it.
Before her mother and Giles died, she wouldn’t have cared about the consequences. She would have charged ahead until she got her answers. But now…the consequences were much too tangible and while she trusted Spike, the fear was still there.
She had learned not to ask questions while she lived with her father. It usually ended badly. Most of the time, she got a couple of bruises and a slight deafness from all of the yelling, but it were those handful of incidences where things had gone careening off the side of reasonable punishment and dived into a very scary and dark place.
It was a reminder of just what her father was capable of. It was the reason she had run and the reason why she hadn’t wanted Spike to get involved. Despite all of the facts she had given him, Buffy knew without a doubt that Spike didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into when he had forced her to stay.
As strong as he was, Spike wouldn’t be able to match her father’s resources or cruelty. For the first time since she’d first run away, Buffy was truly terrified about what might happen if her father found her. What would he do to her? More importantly, what would he do to Spike?
During those first few days, Spike had told her that they would work together to figure out what to do. Now it seemed Spike had taken the top position in their small army and left Buffy to follow all of the orders. But they weren’t going to win the war if it continued this way, that Buffy was sure of.
Sighing, Buffy bit into an orange wedge and flipped the page of her fashion magazine.
She heard the bathroom door open and turned to look down the hall as Spike padded his way to the kitchen.
“Good mornin’, luv,” he said with a yawn, heading straight for the coffee maker.
“Hey,” Buffy replied, not really in the mood for conversation. Although, to be perfectly honest, it was her own damn fault for not pressing the issue of his lying. Maybe if she knew what was going on, she might feel more inclined to talk to him. Or maybe not, depending on what he was keeping from her.
She really didn’t want to think of all of the horrible things that might be going on behind her back. And even though he had assured her that nothing was going on with Faith, Buffy hadn’t ruled out the possibility. After all, wasn’t it Spike who had admitted to her what a playboy lifestyle he’d been leading before she’d come to live with him?
Yeah, leopards couldn’t change their spots and she suspected neither could career bachelors.
Spike shuffled around the table to sit across from her, plopping down on the seat and setting his coffee mug on the tabletop.
“Hey? That’s all I get?” He asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.
Buffy glanced up at him, noticing for the first time that he was wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. “What’s with the glasses?”
His eyebrows furrowed together. “Forgot t’ take out my contacts last night an’ my eyes are killin’ me. Now what’s with the attitude?”
Buffy shrugged and went back to her magazine.
With a groan of frustration, Spike ran a hand through his messy, bed hair. “You bloody infuriating- ! If you expect me t’ know what’s wrong just by lookin’ at you, I’m afraid you have me confused with Mike the Magic Mystical. I’m not a soddin’ mind reader, Buffy.”
Buffy slammed her hand on the table. “Did I ask you to read my mind? What? Just because I didn’t feel like answering your damn question, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong! Maybe I just don’t feel like talking to you!”
“You seem t’ forget, luv, that I’m pretty good at figurin’ you out. And that whole Buffy Blow-up you just had made me pretty damn sure that somethin’s wrong. Now I know it’s not PMS ‘cause-”
Picking up her magazine, she hurled it at his head. It smacked him in the forehead, knocking his glasses askew before it flopped onto the floor.
“You are such an asshole!” Buffy screamed at him.
Dazed and more than a little confused, Spike just sat there, his mouth gaping open and his eyes blinking slowly behind his crooked glasses. But it wasn’t long before the stupor began to wear off and the red haze of anger flushed his face.
“I’m the asshole? That’s bloody rich comin’ from you! I jus’ wanted t’ know what the hell was wrong an’ you jump down my bleedin’ throat!” He just sat there for a moment glaring at her before finally standing up and grabbing the edge of the table.
“And I told you there’s nothing wrong! Just drop it!” Buffy shouted back.
With a loud growl, he flipped the table over and stomped the short distance to where she sat, frozen. His large hands grasped the seat of her chair and pulled her forward so that their faces were only a hairsbreadth away.
“Quit playin’ these damn games with me an’ tell me what’s wrong with you,” he rumbled as his dark gaze bored into her. “What happened t’ the Buffy from a couple days ago? You know, the one that was happy and bubbly and didn’t go around callin’ me fuckin’ names.”
“I don’t know,” she replied through clenched teeth. She was scared out of her mind, but she couldn’t help the nasty tone her words seemed to be drenched in.
His jaw tensed as he nodded. “Right then.” He pushed himself away from her and left the room.
When he returned, Buffy was sure what his intentions were. He was going to leave. He had gotten dressed and was now grabbing his keys and wallet off the table by the front door.
Just when she was sure he was going to storm out the door, he turned to her. “Still don’t know?”
Faced with his temper and the prospect of him leaving, she couldn’t force any sound out of her mouth. So, she could do nothing but sit helplessly as he waited for her to stop him from going.
He stood there for what seemed like hours to Buffy, but in actuality were only minutes. “Fine,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. Then his anger broke through and he was shouting again. “You know what? Sod it! I don’t need this shit!”
He ripped through the front door and slammed it shut behind him. And he was gone.
And she was all alone.
Spike got about four blocks away before he pulled the bike to a screeching halt.
He was furious! He was pissed! He was beyond pissed! And damn it, he was such a sodding fool!
As angry as he was, he had no business going off on her like that. Worst part of it was, he had his suspicions that he was the reason she was so upset. He had actually convinced himself that he’d pulled the wool over her eyes.
But Buffy wasn’t stupid. She knew there was something going on. She was just too afraid to call him on it.
“Fuck!” Why couldn’t he have just told her the truth? She wasn’t some sort of porcelain doll that needed to be handled with kid gloves. She would have been able to handle the truth.
Despite his good intentions, he was really doing nothing but lying to her. Problem was, had it gone to far to be fixable? He had promised her that he wouldn’t ever lie to her and what did he do? First sign of trouble and the lies just flowed.
The mistake was in thinking he knew what was best for her. God, he was no better than her bastard father. Trying to keep her under his thumb with smooth words and mind-numbing sex, Spike had used her trust to take advantage of the situation.
Maybe he really was his father’s son. Alistair Pratt was nothing if not a master of manipulation and deceit. Seemed like Spike had inherited more than the old man’s physical appearance.
He was a right bastard and-
“Bloody hell!”
In his anger, he had gone off and left her all by herself. See, that was the problem with being the kind of man that went off half-cocked. Reason usually flew completely out the window and he almost always did something he regretted later. Unfortunately, this time, he had done several things he was now regretting.
Putting the motorcycle back in gear, he flipped a u-turn and sped off towards the apartment.
God, if anything happened to her, he’d never be able to forgive himself. In his lifetime, he had done some pretty stupid stuff, but this had to take the cake. Some sodding protector he turned out to be.
Parking the bike next to the curb, he jumped off and made a run towards the apartment. He swung the door open and burst inside, half-expecting to see her still sitting where he’d left her.
But she wasn’t sitting there. She wasn’t even in the room.
After a quick sweep of the apartment and a couple shouts of her name, he had to face the facts. She wasn’t there.
The urge to panic was overwhelming and he had to take large gulps of air to keep himself from completely losing it.
“Get a hold of yourself, mate. You haven’t been gone longer than ten minutes, she couldn’t have gotten far,” he told himself, trying to ease his pounding heart and stop the flood of adrenaline running through him.
He swallowed hard before calmly turning towards the door and walking out. His strides were smooth and even as he crossed the neatly manicured lawn to the Harris’ building, all the while chanting silently that he would find her there safe and sound.
Taking the steps one at a time, he finally reached the top and knocked on the door.
The door opened to reveal a very pissed off Anya. “What the hell do you want?”
“That’s a right stupid question, Anya. You know why I’m here, so just let me in.” He made the move to push past her, but Anya stood her ground.
“I don’t think so, mister. You can’t just go around giving orders and expect people to do what you tell them to.”
“Anya, I don’t have bloody time for this nonsense. I need t’ see her an’ you’re not gonna stop me,” Spike told her.
Anya stepped forward, still blocking the doorway, and stuck her finger into Spike’s chest. “You don’t scare me, William Pratt. But you did scare Buffy, so tell me again why I should let you see her?”
Stubborn bint!
He sighed. “Anya, please, just let me in.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a while before throwing her hands up. “Fine. But if she tells you to leave, you better go.”
“I will,” Spike promised.
He followed Anya into the apartment. While he was pretty irritated that Anya had put up such a fight to let him in, Spike was also grateful to have someone else who was so concerned with Buffy’s well-being and happiness. Truth of it was, Buffy needed all the support she could get and having a few more people like Anya in her corner would only help her cause.
Anya stopped in front of her bedroom door. “She’s in there.”
“Okay,” Spike said as he made the attempt to get past Anya.
She halted him with a hand. “I meant what I said. If she wants you to leave, you better.”
Bloody hell, is this how he acted? He knew he was a little overprotective of Buffy, but now he was wondering if he went a little overboard with it. If he acted anything like Anya, then he was sure of it.
Instead of answering her, he just lifted an eyebrow and looked towards the closed door.
Finally satisfied that he would follow her warning, Anya let him past.
Spike opened the door and peered inside. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head down. He hated seeing her upset and hated himself even more for making her be upset.
“Buffy?” He moved into the room and shut the door behind him.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” She didn’t look up at him.
He wanted so badly to go to her and put his arm around her shoulders, to comfort her, but he knew it would be unwelcome. This time he wasn’t going to push her to accept his apologies or excuses. Her decision would be her own to forgive him.
“I know,” he replied quietly. Taking a deep breath, he tried to find the right words. “Buffy, I’ve been lyin’ t’ you.”
Her head shot up at that, her eyes wide with a mixture of anger, hurt, and surprise. “Y-You’ve been-”
“Lyin’. T’ you.”
“Why?”
The why was much harder to explain than the what. Why couldn’t she have asked ‘what’ first?
“I jus’ wanted t’ protect you, is all, luv. Never wanted t’ hurt you,” he told her, still standing near the door.
“Protect me from what, Spike?” The anger was leaving her eyes, her need to know what was going on becoming more important than her tumultuous emotions.
Spike swallowed hard. “The other day, a man was arrested here for lookin’ in people’s windows.”
Buffy’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Yeah, Anya mentioned it, but why-” The question was cut off by her sharp gasp, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as the realization hit her. “You think he was looking for me, don’t you?”
“He might be, I’m not sure. I didn’t want t’ scare you, pet.”
“Oh, god, Spike! What if he already found me?”
Spike crossed the short distance between them and kneeled down in front of her, grasping her small hands in his large ones. He gave her a reassuring kiss on her knuckles and gazed up at her.
“I won’t let anythin’ happen t’ you, you know that, right?”
She nodded emphatically. “Yes.”
“I know someone at the police department. Been lookin’ into the matter for me,” he told her, squeezing her hands a little.
She laughed nervously. “Faith, right?”
“Ever had anyone tell you that you’re one smart cookie, eh, luv?” He winked at her.
Buffy had never been in a police station before and she couldn’t help but think that it looked nothing like the ones she’d seen on television.
Spike held her hand as they crossed the reception area and made their way to the information desk.
“Need t’ speak with Detective Lehane,” Spike told the guard on duty.
The guard stood up and pointed to several phones in the corner. “You can reach her by one of those phones. Her extension is listed on the board.”
Spike gave the guard a curt nod before following the man’s directions.
There were so many things running through Buffy’s head that she couldn’t keep her thoughts straight. And her emotions…she couldn’t even begin try and figure out.
It still hurt that Spike had lied to her, but she understood his reasons. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her when it was still very possible that this whole thing was just a coincidence. She got that. But damn it! She wasn’t a little girl. She could handle bad news, could deal with the danger possibly looming over her.
She didn’t like being kept in the dark no matter how good his reasons were.
“She’s comin’ down,” Spike said, coming over to stand next to her.
Taking a deep breath, Buffy tried to find the courage that had been eluding her for days. “Spike?”
“Yeah, luv?”
“Does Faith know about…me?” Buffy glanced up at him, not knowing what she hoped to see in his eyes.
He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had been resting. “I didn’t tell her, but I’m guessin’ she probably knows you’re underage. She hasn’t asked me about it though.”
“W-Will I get you into t-trouble?”
She had gotten so used to everyone just ignoring her age that she had forgotten how much of an issue it could be. Not to mention the fact that she was technically a runaway.
Suddenly, Buffy felt sick to her stomach. This was the last place they should be, surrounded by cops. They could arrest Spike. They could take her away. They could-
Two strong hands grasped her shoulders and turned her body. Spike put a finger under her chin and lifted it up.
“I can see those wheels turnin’, luv. Stop worryin’.”
“But they could-”
“Nothin’s gonna happen t’ me. I promise.”
“But Faith could-”
“Are you two talkin‘ about me?” A voice said behind her.
Spike let go of her and Buffy spun around quickly. “I-uh-I-no.”
Faith laughed. “It’s cool, B. I know I’m probably a big topic of conversation right about now.”
“I-you-well-” Buffy clamped her lips shut. She was doing nothing but making a fool out of herself and Faith was the last person she wanted to do that in front of.
“Why don’t we go have a chat outside?” Faith suggested, her expression turning serious.
The sun was high and bright in the clear blue sky. It was going to be a very hot summer by the looks of it. They made their way towards some concrete benches that sat under a small outcropping of trees at the base of the lawn.
“So, I’m guessin’ you want to know about our good friend Willie D, the peeping private eye, right?” Faith said, setting down a file folder next to her on the bench.
“He’s a private investigator?” Buffy asked, the fear beginning to mount.
She had been fine when she thought the guy was just a peeping tom. With this new information, she had little doubts that this Willie D character wasn’t involved with her father somehow.
Faith nodded. “Yep, though after this little stunt, he’ll probably get his license pulled.”
“Shouldn’t he have had it pulled five incidents ago?” Spike asked, his jaw tensing.
Five incidents? What were they talking about?
“He was arrested, but never charged with anything. Bastard didn’t even get a fine,” Faith replied with a sigh of disgust.
“Did you find out who he called?”
“Yeah. He only called one person,” Faith said, looking down at the file and squinting her eyes slightly. “Ella DeMille, his mother. And he’s had no visitors.”
Spike looked a bit relieved at the news. “Any info on who hired him yet?”
“Nah.” Faith shook her head. “He ain’t talking. He gave the investigator some bullshit story about bird watching. Yeah, bird watching, my ass.”
“Fuck. We really need to find out who hired him, Faith,” Spike told her.
Buffy watched as Faith frowned and stared at Spike. Uh-oh, this didn’t look good.
“Well, it might help if you tell me what you’re lookin’ for, Spike. I mean, shit, I’m workin’ blind here.”
Instead of answering Faith, Spike turned to look at Buffy. “Do you wanna tell her, luv?”
Now he gives her the choice?! As much as she loved him, Buffy had to admit that Spike had the worst timing.
A/N: Don’t know if anyone is interested…but I started an update list for those of you who don’t get them from TSR. Feel free to join, here’s the link: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaesha_fics/