By the time Buffy managed to get Angel to leave, she was just as confused as before he had shown up on her front porch. The only upside to his visit was that her stomach was no longer growling thanks to the pizza he had brought. Knowing that she would never be able to go to sleep with her mind full of questions and doubts, Buffy grabbed her guitar case from its perch near the kitchen and headed out onto the back porch for some serious reflection on her feelings.
As Angel drove to his house, his thoughts were nagging at him in regards to Spike’s whereabouts. There was one thing Angel was sure of and that was his best friend would not have left town without telling him about it first; especially when there was a problem with Buffy. Deciding to find out what was going on for himself, Angel flew by the exit that would have taken him home and headed across town to Spike’s apartment complex.
Thankfully, when Spike had purchased the apartment seven years ago, he had put Angel on the lease as an emergency contact since he himself didn’t have any family nearby if something went wrong. Thus, even if Spike was out of town, Angel would be able to bypass the guard’s station and go into his apartment without any problems.
As usual, when Angel pulled his black Mercedes into the parking garage, the guard raised the gate and waved him through without any questions. Locating a nearby parking spot near Spike’s apartment, Angel dug around in his console and produced the key ring Spike had given him.
Not really expecting Spike to be out of town, Angel was surprised to find the apartment pitch black when he walked into the apartment. Flipping on the living room lights, Angel was greeted with the smell of smoke, liquor and the general unpleasant smell of a home that had been closed off for several days. Frowning at the empty bottles, overflowing ashtrays and other various types of litter strewn throughout the usually manicured living area, Angel said, “Spike? You home?”
Angel continued down the hallway to the bedroom and pushed open the slightly ajar door, shaking his head at the sight before him. Sprawled haphazardly across the massive bed was Spike, passed out; no shirt, no shoes, and jeans. Just as Angel had suspected, his friend had drowned his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle and hide away in the privacy of his home. Reaching out, Angel slapped Spike lightly on his back and said, “Hey, Bleached Menace, wake the hell up!”
From beneath a pillow came the garbled response that sounded a lot like, “Sod off, Peaches.”
“Seriously Spike, get up. We need to talk.” With one swift movement, Angel reached out and snatched the protective pillow from Spike’s head.
“’s anyone told you how bloody annoyin’ you can be?” Spike muttered as he rolled off the bed and raked a hand through his disheveled hair. “Ugh…what damn day is it, Peaches?”
“Saturday night. How long have you been drunk, Spike? You smell absolutely disgusting.”
“Oi! If you don’ like my fucking appearance then get the hell out, yeah?” Sliding past Angel’s hulking form, Spike stumbled his way down the hall into the living room.
“Spike, I came here to check on you, not to fight.” Placing himself between Spike and the bar, Angel said, “I think you’ve had about enough for now. We need to talk, I-“
“Oh that’s brilliant, you think I’ve had enough? Why is it that you fuckin’ get to make all my bloody decisions? That went oh so well last time, right?” Sticking a cigarette into the corner of his mouth, Spike inhaled deeply before backing off and sitting on the couch. “Exactly why are you here?”
“I just found out about what happened between you and Buffy.” At Spike’s disbelieving snort, Angel remarked, “Spike, quite being so damned disagreeable. You’re about as difficult to deal with as Buffy is, but not as attractive.
I’ve been out of town on business. Called to check on you guys since I hadn’t heard from Buffy or you since Riley’s sudden attack of remorse; couldn’t get through to either one of you on your cells and finally got a Buffy to answer at the house and she explained what had happened. Listen, Spike…I told her everything. How I told you to keep certain things hidden to my relationship with Drusilla. By the time I left, she had cooled down considerably.”
“Of course she did, mate. Bloody Peaches the ‘All Knowing and Powerful Poofter’ swoops in to save the day. Never quite understood how you were able to make all the birds swoon with such horrible hair.”
“Do you always have to be such a pest? I’m trying to tell you that I think you guys still have a shot in hell at getting things straightened out and all you want to do is fight. I’ve had enough from Buffy tonight and I really don’t feel like taking it from you, too.” Stalking over to the door, Angel turned and said, “I have to ask…do you want things to get better? I mean, if she decides that she can’t be without you, do you want her?”
“Don’t think that needs to be asked, Angel.” Was Spike’s only response as he sat on the couch staring off into space and smoking. “’Snot like she’ll come back anyway, yeah.”
Getting back into his car, Angel debated on whether or not to call and tell Buffy about what had transpired at Spike’s. Deciding that she needed to know, he dialed her number on his cell as he drove away from the building and headed home.
“Just wanted to let you know that Spike’s fine, he’s not out of town.” Angel said when she answered. “If for any reason you’re thinking about calling him it would be a bad idea; he’s plastered and in one hell of a bad mood thanks to my visit.”
“Yeah, well, you seem to have that effect on people tonight, Angel.” Buffy replied, only halfway joking.
“So, any thoughts on what you are going to do?” He asked, throwing caution to the win. Buffy Anne Summers never liked to be pushed and Angel was in the mood to do some pushing. “Honestly, Buff. Either cut the man a break or cut him loose; just don’t string this along. Neither one of you deserve that kind of torture.”
“I…I …Angel, I miss him. Like bad. It’s like a part of me is missing.” Buffy gasped for air as recognition settled in; tears threatening to burst out of her eyes again. “I love…him and I…should have listened to him.” Sniffling, she paused to wipe her face. “Do you think I still have a chance?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh! I need like one of those grand gestures, right!? Something like in the movies to show him that I really do love him.” Chewing on her bottom lip, Buffy paced around the back porch until an idea popped into her mind. “Ooh! I’ve got it, Angel. Think you can get Spike to Caritas tomorrow night?”
Quickly getting Angel off the phone after he promised to go along with her plan, Buffy picked up the phone and dialed Lorne’s personal number. “Lorne! Are you busy?”
“Never too busy for you, Pixie Stick!” He practically shouted over the music in the background, “What can I do for you?”
“I need a huge favor…”
At exactly seven o’clock the next night, Cordelia pulled out of the parking garage with Spike in tow. As planned, she had fabricated a story about dropping Angel off at Caritas for a business meeting before coming to pick him up.
“You see, this way I can have a few drinks at dinner and we won’t have to worry about having two cars.” Cordelia explained as she navigated the SUV through traffic at an alarmingly high rate of speed. Mentally, she thanked her lucky stars that Spike hadn’t put up an argument about taking his own car. If things went as planned, Spike would be returning home in Buffy’s car.
“Yeah, well, if it’s all the same to you I think I’ll just sit tight in the car while you go get Peaches. Can’t imagine that I would be very welcome in Buffy’s second home.” Spike replied sourly as he dug in his pocket for his cigarettes; only having to put them away when Cordelia shot a pointed look in his direction.
“Why? Buffy’s not there and I really don’t see Lorne giving anyone a hard time. You, sir, will be a gentleman and escort me inside like a lady.” Cordelia kidded, hoping Spike would take the bait and ask where Buffy was.
“Lady, you? That’ll be the bloody day. Fine, whatever, I’ll go inside. At least there’s liquor.” Spike fidgeted in his seat momentarily before cutting his eyes towards Cordelia. “Buffy’s really not there?”
“Nope, Angel said something about a promotional whatnot somewhere. Be gone until the weekend, I think.” Cordelia replied unflustered, completely at ease with a little fibbing. Whipping the car through an intersection, she pulled into the adjacent parking lot for Caritas.
Once inside the dimly lit club, Cordelia spotted Angel already sitting at a nearby booth waving them over. Passing by the bar with Spike in tow, she quickly flashed Lorne the “Go” sign with her blonde counterpart none the wiser. As planned, Cordy announced a much needed trip to the restroom and asked Angel to order her a drink. When she was sure she was out of their line of site, Cordelia disappeared around the corner and snuck behind the stage where she found a terrified Buffy.
“Ok, get out there and do your thing. I’ve delivered my part of the deal.”
“Um…yeah, that’s gonna be a no, but thanks for you know…everything.” Buffy stammered, shaking her head adamantly. When Cordelia cocked her eyebrow in question, Buffy said, “I didn’t think everything through, all the people and the rejection in front of said people. How about writing him a nice letter?”
“No way, not after all of the work we’ve put into this whole scheme of yours!” Cordelia commanded, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. “Don’t make me go get Lorne!”
“I do love it when women call my name!” Lorne exclaimed from behind Cordelia, causing the buxom brunette to jump in surprise. “Seems Buffy has decided to get a case of stage fright.” Cordelia informed when her heart rate returned back to normal.
“Stage fright? That’s ridiculous, “Lorne exclaimed, “Buffy’s not afraid of performing. Now get out there and croon for Mr. Dreamy Blue Eyes.” When his petite blonde protégé began backing away from him in the direction of the back door, Lorne snagged her by the arm and drug her towards the stage entrance. “Buffy, get out there and do what you came to do before I drag you out there myself. It’s a great song and incredibly romantic, he’s going to eat it up.” Flashing an encouraging smile, Lorne pushed her through the heavy curtain and said, “Break a leg!”
Stumbling onto stage, Buffy froze in front of the microphone; feeling as though her black dress pants and red silk sleeveless shirt had all of the sudden disappeared. “Um…Hi, my name is Buffy.”
Spike’s head popped up when he heard her voice. “What the…” He stammered, looking at Angel for answers. Just then Cordelia slid into the booth beside her husband, both of them wearing obnoxious grins. “You told me she was out of town!”
“I lied.” Cordelia replied matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders. “I never would have been able to get you in here otherwise, so shut up and pay attention.”
Knowing he would never win an argument with his best friend’s better half, Spike flopped back against the booth with a disgusted sigh; never in a million years guessing that what was in him.
“I know most of you came here specifically to hear the other band, but as a special favor they have taken a quick break. You see, I’ve never really been able to tell someone how I feel about them; well, at least not in the nonmusical sense. Um…I dear lord this is harder than I imagined it to be…” Pausing for a moment to take a couple of deep breaths, Buffy was encouraged by the crowd by several hoots and hollers; even one very ecstatic ‘You go girl!’. Smiling brightly, she adjusted her guitar and fidgeted with the pick before saying, “Thanks! So, you see, there’s this guy and I jumped to some conclusions and basically…was a total bitch. Anyway, I figured something needed to be done, like a grand gesture to show him how I really feel. Ok, I’m babbling so I will get on with it. I wrote this song for him last night and I wanted him to hear it. Spike, this is for you.”
I was blown away.
What could I say?
It all seemed to make sense.
You've taken away everything,
And I can't deal with that.
I try to see the good in life,
But good things in life are hard to find.
We'll blow it away, blow it away.
Can we make this something good?
Well, I'll try to do it right this time around.
Let's start over.
I'll try to do it right this time around.
It's not over.
'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.
This love is killing me,
But you're the only one.
It's not over.
Eyes closed, Buffy poured her heart into the song she had stayed awake for most of the night putting together; finally getting to bed as the faint rays of morning began to stream into her bedroom window. Inside she was itching to look out into the crowd and find Spike and see what his expression was; however, fear of not seeing him there kept her eyes slammed shut.
Taken all I could take,
And I cannot wait.
We're wasting too much time
Being strong, holding on.
Can't let it bring us down.
My life with you means everything,
So I won't give up that easily.
I'll blow it away, blow it away.
Can we make this something good?
'Cause it's all misunderstood.
Well, I'll try to do it right this time around.
Let's start over.
I'll try to do it right this time around.
It's not over.
'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.
This love is killing me,
But you're the only one.
It's not over.
We can't let this get away.
Let it out, let it out.
Don't get caught up in yourself.
Let it out.
Focused intently on Buffy’s face as she sang, Spike tuned out every other individual in the bar. In all the times that he had seen her perform, he was fairly certain that she had never worn such an intense expression. When tears welled in his eyes, prickling painfully as he desperately forced them back, Spike’s heart clenched with emotion when he noticed that silvery streams of moisture were streaming down Buffy’s face.
Let's start over.
I'll try to do it right this time around.
It's not over.
'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.
This love is killing me,
But you're the only one.
It's not over.
Let's start over.
It's not over, yeah...
This love is killing me,
But you're the only one.
It's not over
As she finished strumming the remaining chords, Buffy was shocked to hear a deafening roar of approval. Finally allowing herself to look out into the crowd, her heart lurched when she saw Spike get out of the booth as if he was leaving. Dropping her guitar to the side, Buffy leapt from the stage and sprinted towards him.
“Spike!” She screamed, grabbing hold of his shirt. “Don’t leave, please!” His penetrating gaze melted Buffy to the core, her heart pounded nervously as she waited for him to say something…anything. When his lips crashed down onto hers, Buffy shrieked with surprise before throwing her arms around Spike’s neck and pulling him closer to her body.
Totally oblivious to their surroundings, Spike’s hands roamed over Buffy’s body as if trying to relearn the layout. His fingers edged along the hem of her shirt, teasing the bare slip of soft skin mercilessly. Not being able to touch or hold her for over a week was sheer torture to Spike and his emotions were running rampant through his body.
Finally, the congratulatory cheers and suggestive hollers from the other people in Caritas caught Spike’s attention. Pulling his lips from hers, causing Buffy to whimper at the loss, Spike rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “Love you, kitten. Could never leave you.”
**Lyrics belong to Daughtry...Not me. I do not profit in any way!**
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ok guys...last chapter and the the Epi! Thank you so much for the great reviews. Even though I am ready to move to another story and finish LC, I will be sad to see this one go since its my first. Please let me know what you think and also this hasnt been betad. Thanks again!