Crouched in the floor, her back pressed against the side of the leather couch, Buffy was oblivious to her surroundings. Her skin was speckled with goose bumps, tinged with a faint blue hue since the mauve bath towel she had wrapped around her body offered no protection from the frigid temperature provided by the more than adequate air conditioner. A tiny rivulet of icy water trailed slowly from the wet hair at the nape of her neck, slipping down between the shallow valley of her shoulder blades and causing an involuntary shudder as it crept further down. Coming back to her senses, Buffy shook her head slightly, still in utter disbelief as she attempted to make herself believe that they papers scattered haphazardly in front of her on the floor were make believe.
With a shaky hand, Buffy reached out and plucked one piece of paper in particular from the bunch. Even from a distance she instantly recognized the female that was in each of the four pictures covering the page. The raven hair and alabaster skin of Spike’s one time love were a stark contrast to the vivid purple bruises smattering across her upper arms and around her neck. Drusilla’s gaze shied away from the lens in each display, her dark eyes filled with despair were cast downward as if she wanted to hide from the ugly truth.
Putting the picture to the side, Buffy reached for another one. This time it was the arrest report that had sent her into shock earlier. On it was several different images of Spike throughout the years. Although it was hard for her to ever imagine him with glasses and unruly mousy brown hair, Spike’s sharp cheekbones and steely gaze were distinguishable. Forcing herself to reread the long list of his past indiscretions, Buffy’s stomach churned as she counted the number of times he had been arrested for domestic violence and began to cry again as the full implication of the situation hit her hard.
Gathering up the scattered papers, Buffy stood up; anger bubbling deep inside as she thought to herself, ’He’s no better than Riley.’ Preparing for battle, she reached for the crumpled clothing she had discarded earlier and decided to put on Spike’s dress shirt from earlier since hers was missing all of the buttons. Once covered in something more substantial than a towel, Buffy had to roll up the sleeves that were hanging past her hands; the shirt swallowing her small form, the hem trailing around mid thigh on her legs. With a determined gaze, Buffy turned around and headed towards the stairs; ready to confront Spike. She had barely made it halfway up the stairs when he appeared at the top.
“Was wonderin’ what was takin’ you so long, luv.” Descending the stairs, Spike quickly made his way to Buffy who appeared to be frozen in place; a look of pure horror on her face. Worried, Spike tried to wrap her in his arms protectively, but she jerked away his touch. “Wha’s wrong?”
Knowing that if she would melt into his arms if she let him touch her, Buffy backed down the stairs away from Spike, who was gazing at her with a mix of confusion and worry. She forced herself not to weaken at the sight of him; jeans slung low on his hips barely buttoned and no shirt, his muscular chest heaving slightly as his breathing increased. Thrusting the papers towards him, Buffy forcefully said, “This. This is what’s wrong! How could you not tell me, Spike?”
Fear curdled in his stomach, souring and churning as he took the documents from Buffy’s trembling hands. Deep down Spike knew that his dark secret had been found and he cursed himself for not telling her from the very beginning. Spike flipped through each one of the papers before saying, “Buffy…pet, this isn’t what it looks like. I promise, just trust me.”
“I did trust you, Spike.” Buffy replied with an icy chill in her voice. “Look where that’s got me. So, what? Now I’m just supposed to pretend that I didn’t see anything on that paper and go along my merry way? Don’t think so, buster. I’ve already let one man make a total ass out of me this year; I think I’ve made my quota.”
“I admit that most of these are legitimate charges, but they were while I was working. Sometimes m’ job gets physical, pet. But, this stuff with Dru? ‘s not what it seems.” Spike winced as Buffy flashed a seething look of hatred his way, momentarily pausing his explanation. In a matter of seconds, she had managed to capture the same look that Drusilla gave him when they argued. He felt his eyes sting with tears as he realized that he might not be able to talk himself out of this mess. “Dru was…er, is a bit off her bird, Buffy. Crazy bint like’s a smidge of pleasure with her pain if you understand what ‘m saying? These charges,” Spike said, waving the pictures in Buffy’s direction, “are because she didn’t get her way with me. Anytime I was disagreeable, Dru would march her loony arse to the police department and claim I had beat ‘er.”
“Right!” Buffy scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that story, Spike. Do I have stupid stamped on my head? No wonder she was crazy…don’t blame her one bit after putting up with you.”
His heart sank at her cruel words. “Buffy,” Spike whispered, trying to get her to look him in the eye. “Wha’ is it that you aren’t saying?” Letting the dreaded reports float to the ground, Spike once again tried to approach Buffy; crossing the small area between them with a pleading look in his tear drenched eyes. When his hand brushed against her bicep and she jumped away and Spike forced himself to ask the question that was weighing on his heart. “Where does this leave us, kitten?”
“I think you should leave, Spike.” Buffy choked out, her voice trembling as she tried to fight back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I just can’t do this again. I love you, but…” Unable to keep them at bay, hot tears tumbled over her lashes and the words that she wanted to say were stuck in her throat.
“But wha’, pet? Am I leaving for good or jus’ until you can figure out wha’ it is you need?”
“I don’t know. I want you, but I can’t risk going through that hell again.” Furiously wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands, Buffy took a deep breath and came to a conclusion. “I need you to go. I really cannot do this right now…can’t take the fighting or anything else.”
“Pet, we aren’ fighting. But that’s something couples do from time to time. You understand that, yeah. You scream, cuss and say things they don’ mean, but you make up because you love each other. Don’ throw this away, Buffy…not jus’ because you’re scared.”
“Not me…not now. I need space, Spike.” Crossing her arms across her chest and giving him her best resolve face; one that would make Willow proud, she said, “I’m gonna go into my Mom and Gile’s room. Just get your things and go, please.”
His feet wouldn’t cooperate, they refused to move, to go after Buffy and make her change her mind; to give him another chance. For some reason he didn’t, instead Spike slowly trudged his way up the stairs, away from Buffy. Once in their bedroom, he crammed what clothes he could locate into his duffle bag and quickly got dressed. Back downstairs, he grabbed his keys and reached for the door handle. With one last glimmer of hope, he turned around and headed down the hallway towards the room Buffy had holed herself inside. Turning the doorknob, his body slumped with despair as he realized she had locked it to keep him out. Resting his forehead against the smooth wood, Spike said, “I’ll wait, Buffy. Not forever, though, but I’ll wait. I love you.”
He waited there for a moment, silently praying that Buffy would open the door and forgive him. When she didn’t, he left; grabbing his bag again, heading out the door and climbing into the DeSoto. With a screech of the tires, Spike left the house that had been home for over four months and disappeared down the semi-darkened street.
Inside the house, Buffy came out of her parent’s bedroom and gathered the scattered papers from the foyer before slowly climbing the stairs. Once inside the bedroom, she closed the door and turned off the lights; climbing onto the massive bed and curling into the fetal position in the center. The tell tale scents that belong to Spike enveloped around her; musky cologne, stale cigarettes and a distinctive male aroma assaulted her senses as she pulled the covers over her head and cried herself to sleep.
**Please review? Pretty please? You gracious comments will get muse all happy and make the Spuffiness come sooner.****
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok...here is the chapter that you guys have begged for. While all of the reviews were totally fantastic and I would love to hear them about this update, please don't make them too bad. Please? It will be all right eventually, just need the drama before hand, yeah? Ok...on with the story!