Spike sat in his hotel room at the Four Seasons. He couldn’t sleep, his mind going over everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. Wes finding him passed out in his office, his heart-to-heart talk with his mother, flying out to L.A., finding Buffy and making love to her again and then telling her that he loved her.
He’d told her that he was there for the long haul. He wasn’t going to let her slip away, not this time. He knew that her issues with their relationship stemmed from her fear of losing him, of history repeating itself. It was clear that she had still not fully dealt with her husband’s death and if she was going to be able to admit her true feelings, she needed to do that and to understand that as long as he breathed he had no intention of going anywhere.
He also knew that this was something she would have to do alone. He’d told her how he felt and that was all he could do. It was now up to her to win the battle against her jaded heart.
Which was why he was here now, sitting in this hotel room – it had been a long time since he’d needed to use a hotel in this city. He wanted to give her some space to think about everything that he’d said. And even though he knew he had to give her the time she needed, he hated just sitting here, waiting for her to call – he felt so empty without her in his arms.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the insistent ring of his cell phone and he dragged it from his pocket and pressed the call button without even bothering to glance at the caller ID.
“Buffy?”
“No, it’s me.” His mother’s voice sounded thick, as though she’d been crying.
“Mum? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s your father,” Anne choked out. “He’s been admitted to the hospital with chest pains. The doctors fear it could be another heart attack.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Spike assured her before ending the call and mentally preparing himself to ring Buffy.
Buffy had been out all night. After Spike had left, she’d felt the desperate need to get out of her apartment, which held too many memories of Spike to enable her to think clearly. Getting in her car, she’d started driving, eventually finding herself in the Santa Monica hills where she’d parked up and just sat, staring out over the metropolis awash with lights and trying to get her head around everything that had happened.
Just before dawn, she’d driven back down into the city until she’d reached the Rosedale cemetery.
The explosion that had caused Angel’s death had left Buffy without a body to bury and so she’d simply settled for having a memorial stone.
The morning sky was decorated in slithers of pink as Buffy got out of the car and walked through the cemetery gates, treading the familiar path until she reached the spot she had chosen. She slid to her knees in front of the marble plaque.
ANGEL O’CONNOR
BELOVED HUSBAND, SON AND FRIEND
1973-2001
Tears filled her eyes as memories of her all too brief time with Angel ran through her mind. The shared love. The laughter. Their hopes and dreams. The stark replay of his fatal accident.
How could Spike expect her to forget that? The pain was still fresh, as though it had only happened yesterday. And while she might appear to have come to terms with it, not a day went by when she didn’t think about Angel or mourn her loss.
Spike seemed to think it was all so simple. He’d told her he loved her and thought that that was enough, but it wasn’t. She loved him too, but that didn’t change the fact that she was scared of admitting it, of letting it become real, for fear that she would end up losing him.
He’d promised her that he’d always be there for her, that he would never leave her, the way that Angel had left her. But how could he make those kinds of promises when life was too precarious to afford him the certainty of keeping them.
Losing Angel had broken her heart and the shock had been so much greater because it had happened so fast. It wasn’t like losing someone to an illness, like cancer – the whole thing had happened so suddenly.
Would she still have married Angel if she’d known he was going to die? Of course she would have, because she’d loved him. It wouldn’t have mattered to her – she would have made the most of every day they’d had together.
Spike was right. There were no guarantees in life. Knowing you could lose someone shouldn’t stop you from loving them. Life was about making the most of the time you have with the people you love, no matter whether its twenty years or twenty minutes.
She hadn’t made the most of her time with Spike. They might have the rest of their lives together and they might not, but whatever time they had, she’d wasted so much of it already by running away.
How could she have been so blind? She’d almost thrown away her chance of being happy with the man she so desperately loved, the same man who loved her just as desperately.
Looking down again at Angel’s plaque, she suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over her. How could she sit here at the grave of her dead husband and admit for the first time that she should be with Spike, that she wanted to be with Spike?
Angel wouldn’t have wanted her to spend her life mourning him – he’d loved her and she knew that he would want her to move on and be happy. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would be incredibly happy with the man currently waiting for her at the Four Seasons.
Less than twenty four hours ago the idea of admitting her true feelings for Spike had filled her with unimaginable fear. But now she felt an eager anticipation at the thought of seeing him, of telling him that she loved him and hearing him say it back and of finally being able to enjoy her hard-won happiness.
Brushing away her tears, she brought two fingers to her lips and then pressed them against the plaque, wanting to close the door on this chapter of her life as she embraced a new one.
“Goodbye, Angel,” she whispered.
After briefly returning to her apartment to shower and change, she drove west alongside Wilshire Boulevard towards the Four Seasons. It was now almost eight o’clock and the hotel was already buzzing with activity when she walked up to the reception desk.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the brunette receptionist asked her.
“Yes, my name is Buffy O’Connor,” she said, wondering whether the butterflies that had set up residence in her stomach were due to excitement or nerves or both. “I’m here to see William Giles. Would you please telephone his room and let him know that I’m here?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Mr. Giles checked out early this morning. I believe he has returned to the UK.”
Buffy paled. He’d gone. He’d left without even calling her. All his words, his promises had meant nothing – he’d hadn't been prepared to wait for her.
Thanking the receptionist, she turned away from the desk and blinking back the tears, she rooted around in her purse for some tissues. As she spotted them, she caught sight of her cell phone, the blinking light telling her that she had a new voicemail message.
Grabbing the handset, she dialled the number for her mailbox and listened to the automated voice tell her the time and date of the message before finally playing it.
“Buffy, it’s Spike. Listen, luv, I’ve had to go back to London – my father is in the hospital and my mother needs me. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back, but I will be back, luv, I promise. Please wait for me. I love you...”
Oh, Spike, Buffy whispered to herself when the message ended. She could only imagine what he was going through right now and she longed to be with him, to hold him and comfort him. She couldn’t just stay here in L.A. and wait for him when he needed her.
Having made a decision, she dialled information who gave her the telephone number she required.
“Good morning, United Airlines, how may I help you?”
“Hello, I need a seat on your next available flight from Los Angeles to London.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok, this is a bit of a short chapter I know, but the next one is going to be the last one *sob sob* so that will be longer. Please review!