Spike couldn’t breathe because, well, Buffy had pretty much just punched him in the gut with that declaration. “What?” he managed to get out through is lack of air, the question coming out in a gust of air.
“I saw that they were hiring while I was sitting on a bench across the street and I figured why not? I mean, I’d always wanted to do something like that and—“
“You’re leaving me?”
She stared at him with a completely befuddled look. “I’m not leaving you. I’m just going to work someplace else. Right around the corner in fact.” Smiling brightly, she wound her arms around his very tense body. “I can come see you anytime I need my Spike fix.”
Threading his fingers through her hair, he brought her face up to his. “And what if I need my Buffy fix?”
“Then you come see me. See? It’s simple!”
“Maybe you could still come here every now and then and work with me?”
“It’s a full time position, Spike, so I don’t think--”
“You have no experience in flowers, how did you get it.”
Buffy frowned and pulled back from his arms. “Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” he said sternly. “I just meant that most shops require experience and knowledge in flowers.”
“Well, Willow said she’d be willing to teach me. It’s her shop; she’s not going to be leaving me alone to answer questions I don’t have the answers to. I know that I’m going to be helping her get her shop online as job one. And hey, if she wants me to learn more, she could always send me to class. Isn’t that a tax write off for her or something?”
“I don’t know. You get nauseous when you smell perfume, how are you going to work with flowers all day?”
“They don’t bother me,” she said tightly. “Look, I realize you didn’t want me to go, but I think it’s a good thing here. I mean, I live in my mother’s house, I date her husband, I work in her gallery – I need something of mine.”
“Not sure how I feel about being lumped into all that, Buffy. I’m not just your mother’s husband; don’t know if I wish to be categorized as such.”
“I know you’re not just my mother’s husband, you’re right, that did sound bad, but…I just feel like ever since she died, I’ve been trying to hold onto a piece of her and I lost myself somewhere in there by doing that.”
“Do you…do you lose yourself with me?” Cause I lose myself with you, kitten, and I’m not seeing how it’s a wholly bad thing.
She flashed him a beaming smile that made his heart skip a beat and turned him into a puddle of mush in no time flat. “Only in the best possible way!” and she threw herself in his arms. “How about I come and help when you have an opening? How’s that sound?”
He nodded slowly. “Sure.” His throat clogged with emotion that he was trying desperately to suppress and he held her tighter to him. “Don’t leave me, kitten, ever, okay?”
“I’m not leaving you, Spike. I’m not. I won’t.”
“You can’t? You can’t because you need me too?”
“That’s right. I can’t because I need you too.” Looking up at him, she smoothed one hand down the side of his face. “Don’t look sad, Spike. This is a good thing. Please, don’t be sad. What can I do to make you not sad?”
Pressing his lips fervently against hers and pushing his pelvis against her, letting her feel his hardening member, he whispered, “Let me make love to you. Let me touch you and love you. I want to be inside you, kitten. Want to worship you, make you wet for me--”
She pushed from him, “Spike, stop! We’re at work, Richard’s in the next room, this is not the time to – and we already talked about this!”
What the fuck is wrong with me? he scolded himself, hanging his head. “I know, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay? You’re not yourself.”
“I’m fine, kitten. Just having a hard time myself getting back into the swing of things.”
“Okay, well, I suppose we should get back to work then?”
“Yeah, let’s get back to work, luv.” Get a hold of yourself you stupid git! You’re scarin’ her. With that sobering thought, Spike kept his hands to himself for the rest of the day.
Later that evening, the couple was on the porch having some dinner and discussing work when a female voice rang out, “Hello! Anyone here?”
Spike stood immediately, “Fred, we’re out here!”
“She just walks in our house?” Buffy asked, brow rising.
“Well, she probably tried the doorbell—Hey, Fred! How are you?” And he got up to give the woman a hug.
“I figured I’d swing by and see if you were home yet, I hope I’m not intruding,” Fred apologized and Buffy rolled her eyes. She knew the woman was only a friend and all that, but she still couldn’t help the jealousy that rose within her. Fred had been marked as something else for a while and though things were different now, and Fred, from what Buffy had gathered from talking to Spike, didn’t want anything with him, Buffy still couldn’t help the lingering jealousy she felt where the brunette was concerned.
“Hi, Buffy, how are you?” Fred asked.
Buffy turned finally to look at her. “I’m well, thanks.”
“Have you eaten? We have plenty if you’re hungry,” Spike offered, ever the gentleman.
“No, no, I just came from a dinner out with a colleague of mine. Really, I just stopped in to see if you were back yet. I hadn’t heard from you in a while and was concerned.”
All right, so what exactly has he told her? Buffy wondered.
“We’re good. Things are going smoothly, right, Buffy?”
Buffy nodded slowly, “Yup. Smooth.” If you don’t count you’re being up my ass and being all weird today as smooth. Oh yes, and if you don’t count my inability to consummate my relationship with my boyfriend because I think of my mother, and if you also don’t count the fact that I hid my relationship with Spike today, then yeah, things are peachy keen in the Land of Denial.
Feeling very suddenly very much that she needed to step away, Buffy got up and grabbed her plate. “I think I’m gonna for a walk, let you two catch up.”
“Buffy, you don’t have to--” Spike started.
“Nah, I feel the need to move. Get some exercise. Nice seeing you again, Fred.” Walking into the house and after placing her dishes in the sink, Buffy started for the door when a hand clasped around her wrist.
“Buffy, luv, you all right?”
“Spike I’m fine. Just want to be alone for a few, all right?” Kissing him quickly she promised, “I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
“Buffy, I love you,” he called after her as she finally made it to the door.
“I love you too!”
“So, you want to tell me how you really are?” Fred said as soon as Spike joined her back on the porch.
Wiping a hand across his brow, he shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“You’re tense. For that matter so is Buffy. What’s going on?”
“It’s just been a trying day, that’s all,” Spike said on a sigh as sat back down in his chair. “She’s leaving me.”
“What do you mean?” Fred asked, concerned, and sat down in the chair Buffy had been in.
“She’s gotten a new job, Fred. She wants to move out. She’s leaving me.”
“Spike, just because she’s gotten a new job and is moving out does not mean she’s leaving you.”
“It sure as hell feels like it!” Spike exclaimed jumping up. “Look, with all due respect, Fred, you don’t know Buffy and you don’t know our relationship. You don’t know the crap we’ve been going through--”
“I do know what you’ve been going through. I was the one you called to talk to, remember?”
“You’re not in this relationship with us, you don’t know her. Not like I do. You don’t see what I see, you don’t feel what I feel, and I feel her pulling from me.”
“I feel that she will pull away from you if you don’t give her some breathing room,” Fred said quietly.
“I’ve done nothing but let her breathe! I let her breathe all the way to Hawaii and Boston. I let her breathe in a mental health facility -- I’ve done nothing but let her breathe.”
“Spike, you need to calm down. You’re not thinking clearly here. You’re misinterpreting her actions here--”
“Fred,” Spike began frankly, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should leave.”
“What?” she looked up at him, stunned.
“I think you should go right now, I’m sorry.”
“Spike--”
“You can see yourself out, right?” Spike said, not even bothering to look at her as he headed in the house and up to his room.
“Oh, it’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Fred muttered as she let herself out, thinking she was going to give it a few days and perhaps contact Buffy next time instead of Spike.
By the time Buffy returned from her walk, she was exhausted. It had been full day. Letting herself in the house, she promptly yawned. “Spike?” she called out.
Straining to hear, she made out the sound of a shower running. Yawning again as she trudged up the stairs, Buffy entered her bedroom and quickly changed into her pajama’s and washed her face. Crawling into bed, she flicked on her TV and nestled under the covers, feeling her eyelids begin to drop already.
“Luv?”
Eyes closed, Buffy hummed and turned over, finding herself engulfed in a pair of strong arms. “Mmmm…Spike,” she murmured, keeping her eyes closed. She must have dozed off for a bit, the TV was on still, but on low. With her eyes closed, she could see the flashes of light from it.
“You smell good,” she said sleepily, burrowing closer to him.
“How was your walk?”
“Good. How was Fred?”
“All right.”
“Remind me tomorrow to ask you more about that.”
Spike chuckled softly, “All right…Buffy?”
“Hmmm?”
“Do you want me to sleep in here with you?”
“Sure, yes, I’d like that.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“How much, tell me how much,” he whispered, his lips grazing her forehead.
“I love you from the depths of the ocean to the height of the sun.” Finally, she popped her eyes open and looked up at him. “How much do you love me?”
He smiled tenderly. “I love you to infinity and beyond.”
“Awww, thanks Buzz Lightyear.”
Spike laughed and nuzzled her lips with his. “I love you more than I could ever put into words, Buffy. You’re my entire world.”
Wrapping an arm around him, Buffy shut her eyes once more. “Sleep now, Spikey, okay?”
“Okay, luv.”
Buffy fell asleep peacefully, unaware of the fears raging inside of Spike who held all the pretense of a man keeping himself together.
Chapter Forty
Buffy awoke slowly, someone’s lips on her neck causing her to shiver. Spike…Mmmmm… her groggy mind registered. Wrapping her arms around him, she arched her neck ever so slightly, giving him further access.
He shifted slightly so that he was lying between her legs and Buffy was still half asleep and too lost in the sensation of feeling him stoking the fire in her so perfectly, that she gave herself over to it.
“Mmm…Spike,” she murmured and sought his lips with hers.
He devoured her mouth with his, and she felt as though he was going to swallow her whole. His erection pressed against her center as he kissed her, and another shiver ran through her.
“Spike.” Breaking the kiss, she gasped for air and opened her eyes to find him staring at her with such intensity, she felt even more breathless – not to mention speechless.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered and slid his hands under her thighs to get her to comply.
“Spike--” she started to protest.
“Sshh…” he whispered, smothering her in a kiss. His hands pushed her shirt up, exposing her breasts to his heated gaze. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “My angel…”
Bending his head, he suckled at one nipple and flicked his thumb across the other. “My girl tastes so good…”
I’m not ready for this, she thought frantically. He feels so good, but I’m not ready for this. Why is he doing this? He knows I’m not ready. With that thought in mind, Buffy pushed at him forcefully.
“Stop,” she ordered loudly and pushed and pushed until he was off her. Scrambling off the bed and standing a good distance away, she stared down at him. “What are you doing?”
“You liked it,” he told her, running a hand through his hair. “You liked how I made you feel. You weren’t complaining.”
“You didn’t give me the chance! I was barely awake. Spike,” she shook her head, “It did feel good, all right, but…I didn’t think you’d cross boundaries like that when you know I’m not ready--”
Letting out a roar of frustration, Spike bounded off the bed. “Is it so wrong of me to want to make love to you? What’s so wrong about that, huh?”
“What is this, fucking high school? Are you pressuring me to have sex with you? Jesus Christ!” Throwing her arms up in the air, Buffy bounded off, frustrated. What was with him? He wasn’t acting like himself; he was acting like a possessive freak. He had moments of such calm and rationality and then moments like this, he was off his rocker. It was those moments that made her want to be nowhere near him until Sane Spike came back out to play.
Halfway down the stairs, she heard an inhuman roar and froze. That came from him?
“Don’t run away from me every single fucking time we have a goddamned disagreement!” he shouted.
The anger emanating from him as she stared at him standing at the top of the stairs frightened her. Not much scared her, but he was scaring her right at that very moment, which is what made her bound down the stairs as fast as her feet would carry her.
She wasn’t really thinking that clearly, not even sure where she was running to, just that she found herself in flight or fight, and her body was fleeing. That is not my Spike, she kept thinking. Scurrying into the kitchen she could hear him coming after her and she fumbled with the sliding glass door when his hand slapped on it, causing it to vibrate from the force.
She froze; her entire body stiffening before she started to tremble.
“Buffy,” he said softly. “Luv, look at me.”
Tears came to her eyes and she shook her head. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you, you know that right? I would never hurt you…”
She turned slowly and looked up at him, finding his eyes shining with tears. “Spike--”
Sliding to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her middle and held her tight. “Please forgive me, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. I would never hurt you, luv, never. Please, Buffy, forgive me…”
She felt lost. The man on his knees before her was falling apart and she didn’t know what to do for him. What was going on? What made him snap like that? That couldn’t have been all about sex. She knew sex was important to a guy, but to act like that? And Spike was no abuser or rapist, either.
“Spike, please get up, please,” she begged him.
“I’m so sorry…” he whimpered.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, she thought as she slid to the floor with him, taking him in her arms. “Spike…baby. Look at me.”
He looked at her, his face a mask of regret, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.
Wiping at his tears and cooing over him sweetly, Buffy cupped her face in his hands. “Spike, what’s going on? What happened up there? Tell me…Maybe we shouldn’t sleep together anymore.”
“No, no, don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry I’m not ready, I – I just--” and now she started to sob.
“Buffy, please, Buffy…don’t cry,” he begged. “Please…you’re killing me.”
“I just want everything to be okay, and I keep messing up with you and I don’t know what to do…”
“You’re not messing up with me, you’re not. I messed up, I did. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have done that and I’m so incredibly sorry. Buffy…”
She kissed him fervently, feeling desperate to make things right. It was her sickness; it was her fault, not his. They slept in the same bed, they loved each other, and it was because of some stupid hang up that she wouldn’t have sex with him. He didn’t understand it and she didn’t know how to tell him, so really, whose fault was it? Hers. All hers.
Keeping her lips glued to his, she shoved a hand down his sweatpants and fondled his half hard cock, eliciting a groan from him. She was stroking it to life, feeling its smoothness and the sticky precum from his weeping tip.
“I’ll have sex with you,” she told him breathlessly, breaking the kiss and meeting his lustful gaze. “I will.”
His eyes fluttered shut and she jumped when she felt his hand clamp over arm tightly. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him questioningly.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t want you that way. I want you only when you want me back.”
“I do!” she insisted.
He shook his head and tugged on her arm, encouraging her to release his deflating cock. She did so and slowly extracted her hand from inside his pants, feeling the impact of what she’d almost just done.
Buffy collapsed into tears and Spike sat down on the floor, brought her on his lap and held her there, letting her cry to her hearts content.
He felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. Holding Buffy on his lap, his back pressed up against a knobby chair, Spike felt a torrent of guilt flood him for what he’d made her do, what he’d forced her to.
This wasn’t him, he knew that. He had never and would never have done something like that. He’d never pushed a woman to have sex with him, and it never occurred to him to do so and yet, he had pushed Buffy. She didn’t need it, not now, not when she was doing so well.
If he could just be inside her, if he could make love to her, fill her with his seed, caress and love her entire body, then by that act he would mark her as his. Then she’d never leave him; she would belong to him.
That’s going to make her run from you, you stupid git, he scolded himself. That’s not showing her bliss, that’s showing her hell. You have got to get yourself together her or you will lose her. The thought made him tremble and he held her tighter.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered near her ear, “I’m so sorry, Buffy. Please, sweetheart, please forgive me. I won’t ever do that again, I won’t, I—“
“Spike?” she asked, sounding drained and weary.
“Yes?”
She shifted against him, pushing herself back and looking up at him. “I’m going back to bed.” All the life seemed to have drained from her, her eyes were red and puffy and she looked drawn and tired.
“Okay, luv.”
“Alone.”
“I understand, sweetheart—“
“I’m not going in today.”
“That’s fine.”
She nodded and climbed off his lap, shuffling out of the kitchen. Spike stared after her, feeling lost. He’d hurt her, and from the looks of it, he’d nearly broke her. When he heard the floorboards creak from her bedroom, Spike broke down and cried. I have to make this better, I have to make this right. But how?
After the morning’s drama, the only thing Buffy wanted to do was hibernate. Dealing with work and with Spike, whom she knew would be hovering like a hawk and constantly apologizing all day, was just not something she felt she could deal with.
January-something-or-other
This morning was just what I needed. Just when I was doing so well, too. Things had started looking up, I was feeling confident. Why is it that I seem to be in a perpetual state of ‘take two steps forward and now take three back’?
Granted, this morning was not entirely my fault. Maybe I should have stopped him sooner; maybe I shouldn’t have yelled at him like I did, maybe I should not have had him sleep in here –
Maybe I need to shut the fuck up and stop making excuses for him turning into Scary Man this morning.
Something is not right with him and I don’t know how to fix it. I tell him I love him, I tell him I want to be with him, I’m right here with him, right there feeling all the love I have for him, needing him -- and yet it’s not enough. Is it really the sex? Is that what it all comes down to? How could that be? That’s not like him, and I’d like to think I know him rather well…
I just don’t know what to do.
Shutting her journal, Buffy picked up her phone and dialed Giles only to get his voicemail. Feeling defeated, Buffy sank into the bed, tossed the covers over her head and contemplated in the safety of her beloved bed and bedroom what she was going to do next.
Spike’s mind was not on work. In fact, he’d had no attention span at all to do much of anything except stare off into space and worry about Buffy, think about what he’d done and how he was going to make this one better.
The only small conclusion he came to was to stop hassling her about her new job and let her do what she needed to do in that respect. Grudgingly, he was even thinking that letting her move out might help as well…but that was very grudgingly.
When he deemed himself completely useless, he went home, leaving Richard in care of the gallery for the rest of the day. He felt tired, as tired as Buffy had looked after their morning debacle.
He contemplated getting her flowers as a means of apologizing, but it was not Buffy’s style to forgive because a gift was proffered. He could just see the look on her beautiful face if he tried that: eye brow raised, mouth turned up in a smirk and her eyes saying ‘Yeah, that’ll work’.
Arriving home, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, he trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. Her door was shut which stung him. She was shutting him out – and really, could he blame her?
“Buffy?” he said gently and pushed lightly on the door. It opened slowly and he found her sleeping, curled up half under the covers in the center of the bed, snoring lightly. Strewn on the floor were newspapers with random circles and a notepad on her nightstand. Creeping in, he peered down at the papers and felt a cold hand grip his heart when it registered what they were: Apartments.
Peering over at the notepad he found her scribbles:
6pm with Dr. Lorne on Jan. 31st
28 Taylor Street at noon tomorrow
40 Maple at one tomorrow
30 Main at three tomorrow
His eyes welling up with tears, Spike moved quickly and quietly out the room. She was desperate now, she was desperate to leave him and there was nothing he could do. Not now. Not when he’d so clearly fucked up. Sliding down the wall outside her room, Spike buried his face in his hands and sobbed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, feeling incredibly lost and incredibly alone.