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Thanks to everyone who reviewed and enjoyed the fic i am enjoying writing it. Thanks to Amy for her beta work and a big thanks to Brat for being my sounding board.
Enjoy and let me know what you think

Chapter 4 - Oh, it’s you

“Spike, can you pick up some milk and some more ice-cream on the way home. Buffy seems to have eaten and drunk us out of house and home. Speaking of drunk where are you man?”

Buffy closed her eyes as she savoured the flavour and feeling of the ice-cream as it slid into her mouth. She had always thought 2am was the best time to eat ice-cream. The afternoon nap had meant sleeping tonight was out of the question. Rather than fight it she gave in to the inevitable. The heartbreak cliché. PJ’s, a box of tissues, ice-cream and a chick flick marathon. With all things in tow she settled in for the night.

She was two films into the heartache-movie-marathon when she heard someone trying to open the front door. Her momentary panic gave way to relief when she realised the person trying to get in had keys to do so. Relief then gave away to dread when she realised the only person with keys was Spike.

“Oh, it’s you,” he slurred as he fumbled his way into the lounge room.

A very drunk Spike it turned out. So much for going to work. This was going to be fun.

“So how was work? Did you sort everything out with the London markets?” she asked, knowing full well from his state of inebriation he had not been at work but working some bar top downtown.

“Huh?” he clearly had no idea what she was on about.

“Wasn’t that the reason you had to run out today?” she asked knowingly as she crossed her arms over her chest, defences’ up.

“London… Yeah right the London markets. It was a nightmare, but you know me all work no play. I got it sorted.” Watching him squirm under her line of questioning was too much fun. He was too easy to tease. She got up from the lounge and made her way over to him.

“Although from the look and smell of you I would say it was more like the Scottish markets are a problem.” She was right up in his face now. The smell of scotch whiskey rolling off him in waves. She ignored her quickening heartbeat as she looked directly into his eyes. Though blood shot they were still the same blue they were always, it had always annoyed her that she could never quite place the exact colour of them. In her mind she was screaming ‘what am I doing’ but something within her wouldn’t let her stop.

Spike squirmed under her gaze. If he wasn’t so out of his mind drunk he could have sworn Buffy was flirting with him, or at the very least checking him out. She was so close he could smell her vanilla shampoo, she had used the same one since high school and whenever he smelt it he thought of her. The aroma muddled his brain more than the alcohol it seemed. There was no way she was flirting with him, rather than tempting that thought he did the next best thing.

“Have you gone completely off you bird woman?” Thankfully Buffy backed down immediately, and now he could think straight. “There is no such thing as a Scottish market.” He snuck a peak down her pyjama top as he made his way past her to get to his room. Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“London was closed today, Spike.”

He turned around to see Buffy standing there all smug hands on hips. “How did you …”

“Angel told me. And as for the drinking part, I have eyes and a nose so it didn’t take much to put that puzzle together. What I don’t see is why you felt like you had to lie. I don’t care what you do or where you go. I mean look at yourself Spike you’re pathetic,” she laughed.

Her laughter was like breaking glass in his ears. How dare she laugh at him. With a speed that surprised even himself he was up in Buffy’s face.

“Me? I am pathetic? Look at you, with your ice-cream, and your pyjamas. And the movies… Sixteen Candles, Sleepless in Seattle. Gee Buffy, all you need is Four Weddings and a Funeral and the cliché would be complete.” He could tell by the look in her eyes he was hitting a little too close to the bone.

Buffy cringed as the DVD kicked in and the credits for Four Weddings appeared on the screen. She winced when Spikes uncontrollable laughter hit her ears.

“Look, I know my pain brings you untold pleasure. But can you tone the mirth down a couple of notches?” She backed away and closed her eyes. Buffy knew he would be able to see the pleading within their depths, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her true feelings. She opened them when she heard the laughter had stopped. Instead of seeing Spikes uncaring gaze she was met with nothing.

Spike was gone.


****

Spike was grasping for air as he pressed his body against his bedroom door. Trying to keep his body from doing what his mind wanted him to. He needed distance between himself and Buffy.

His state of drunkenness had not only caused him to be kicked out of Willies bar but it had almost made him do the unthinkable to Buffy. He had almost kissed her, felt something other than loathing for Buffy Summers.

She had reached out almost to the point of pleading to him, asking for him to go easy on her. Did she really think he was some kind of monster? That he would kick her while she was down?

He thought over the conversation they had just had. What kind of monster was he? First of all he inflicted the pain onto her and then in an instant he wanted to wrap her in his arms and take it all away.

“Of course she thinks you’re a monster, you git,” he said to himself as he passed out on his bed.





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