“Sweetcakes, it’s Lorne. Look, I hate to mix business with pleasure, but have you seen Buffy today? She hasn’t come in and she’s not answering her cell. I thought you might have the 411. Call me!”
Spike should have known something bad was about to happen when he first saw the calligraphy on the envelope. But it was addressed to Buffy, and he hadn’t given it a second thought as he placed it on the dining room table.
It had been three weeks since their discussion in the café, and he had done his best to keep the peace and his distance. The two of them had developed a civil tolerance for each other. It was working well.
That was, until the message Lorne left on his phone. He ran home from work to find Buffy in her pajamas, sitting on the floor surrounded by tiny pieces of ripped paper, more specifically envelope paper, and he could guess whatever was inside.
“Buffy, love, are you sick?” She looked up startled as if she had been a thousand miles away.
“Spike.” She subconsciously wiped the tears from her eyes. Her bloodshot eyes. She looked as if she had been crying a lot.
“I was just getting ready for work.” After smoothing out her clearly uncombed hair, she started to get up from the floor, when Spike stopped her and sat down beside her.
“Love, do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked softly, as he felt her forehead for a fever. She looked as if one wrong word would break her apart.
“No, I kinda lost track.” Buffy looked around at the mess, as though seeing it for the first time.
“Did you ring Lorne?” he asked, trying to get some details from her
“Why would I do that?” She looked confused.
“Because its 12:30 in the pm and he’s worried sick about you. He called me at work to see if you were okay.”
“I am. It’s just…” She searched for the words.
Spike reached down and picked up the pieces of paper on the ground. He tried to piece them together but Buffy’s hand on his own stilled his movements.
“Don’t.” She wrapped her fingers around his and didn’t let go.
“What’s the matter, love, have something against fancy handwriting?”
“Riley,” was all she could get out.
“He wrote you a Dear John letter? That heartless-”
“It’s an invitation to his wedding,” Buffy cut in.
“Bastard,” he finished.
“I was going for tactless, but heartless fits too.” Buffy broke free from his touch and held her head in her hands.
“I could handle the pain, I didn’t enjoy it, but it was manageable. It was manageable when I thought he just wasn’t ready for marriage, that it wasn’t me, it was just the constitution of marriage he couldn’t stand. But this…” She picked up the pieces and threw them away from her.
“It hurts.” Spike wished he could take away that pain. He knew that she wasn’t completely over her break up with Riley. Some days, he could see glimpses of the heartache. But seeing it here, up close and personal… it was tearing at his own heart.
“How can he love her? They’ve been together for, like, five minutes. We dated for two years before he even mentioned getting married.” He knew she wasn’t really asking him the question, more like throwing it out into the universe to see what they would say.
“Sometimes, you know in an instant if you love someone,” Spike said, as he slipped his arm around her shoulders, trying to give her some comfort.
“Then why does it take two days before your wedding, to figure out you don’t?” She turned to face him and what he saw almost took his breath away. Such beauty within sadness, such vulnerability within betrayal.
“Tell me, Spike, tell me what it would have been like if you had stayed. I want to know what it’s like to have someone stay with me.” He wiped a tear from her cheek.
“That night, you gave me so much more than I knew I needed. I wanted to call, but the time wasn’t right and I had no words.” He shifted suddenly, her proximity making him feel uncomfortable.
“God, the passion and fire. I’ve had nothing like it since. I still see flashes of it when we fight.”
“Is that why we fight so much?” Buffy asked
“I think it might be.”
They sat with their backs against the wall, holding each other for the longest time. Buffy rested her head on his shoulder. Spike was lost in his own thoughts when he felt Buffy move, more specifically, onto his lap. She started to kiss his neck.
“Can you touch me, please.”
“Buffy, I don’t think-” He stilled her hand that was trying to make its way under his shirt and he could feel the warmth of her fingers. It was distracting him from doing the right thing, because he knew at that moment that was what he had to do.
The right thing. It was just that, at that moment, looking into her eyes, he didn’t know what the right thing was.
“I don’t want the last person who touched me to be marrying someone else. I know it makes no sense, but I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. Touch me.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast. He closed his eyes as he felt the rush of desire run through him. They had done this before, he knew how this was going to end. But he still wanted it, and it wasn’t only his head that agreed with him.
“Buffy.” He looked into her eyes and could not deny her or himself anymore. “Are you sure?”
She leaned in and kissed him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She shifted in his lap and felt how much he wanted this. As if to make her point, she moaned, letting him know exactly what she wanted.
“Spike, I want to forget all about him. Make me forget.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Another chapter and so soon :) Thanks to Jess for all her help betaing Enjoy :)