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They had returned only moments before the feral cry resounded through the shop, yet none of them were prepared for the shock of seeing Spike storm from the hidden room, tears staining his pale skin, duster flapping wildly around him as he stalked towards the exit in total silence. It was almost like the four of them simultaneously held their breaths, not wanting to make the slightest sound as to refrain from capturing his attention; his violent wrath.

When the bell jangled loudly, signaling Spike’s departure, there was a collective sigh, a releasing of breath that echoed in the empty shop. Eight eyes zeroed on the hunter green door as if expecting him to return in a mad rage and take out his frustrations on them, instead of the one who that had caused the pain, the hurt, the agony.

It was Xander who ended up breaking the synchronized silence. “I really don’t like that guy.”

“I’d better go check on Buffy.” Willow exclaimed, her guilt mounting in triplicate the since the mission, dubbed Spuffy, had been her idea to begin with. Hurrying down the hallway, she burst into the stock room, skidding to a halt when her eyes landed on the pitiful lump that was Buffy. Crumpled and broken, her legs twisted beneath her, her once flawless demeanor now disheveled. “Are you ok?”

“Define ok.” Buffy muttered, quickly trying to pull herself together. Exactly how did one readjust their thong without their best friend noticing? Deciding there was no decent way, she opted for embarrassment over discomfort; hastily rearranging her clothes and pulling herself off the floor. “If you mean it in the sense of am I physically hurt, bleeding or experiencing some type of trauma that would otherwise require a trip to the emergency room? Then…no, not so much. However, if you mean, did I just crush the spirit and heart of a man who has done nothing other than claim to love me and want the best out of life for me and now I feel like the scum. No, wait…I’m too good for scum, nope…I’d be the stuff that feeds off the scum that lives under the scum. Yep, that’s me…third layer cannibalistic scum. No, Willow…I am very much in the not ok category.”

“Ok? Um…kudos for the schizophrenic-like rant, but I’m not really following you, Buffy.” Willow replied with a smile, as usual trying her best to lighten the situation. “I get that you kicked Spike to the curb…but, for what reason?”

“Because what we have isn’t love, Wills, that’s why. Its passion and desire and mind numbing lust that makes your insides turn to mushy goo until you’re in one another’s arms; and even then it’s this all-encompassing total body invasion. There’s nothing…nothing but us and I can’t deal with it. That kinda thing doesn’t last; it’s not true love…if there is such a thing. It fades, fizzles out until there’s nothing but this crater like dark hole in your heart when he leaves.” Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically, then turned to Willow and smiled a sad smile that made her best friend want to cry. “Don’t you see? It’s the opposite of me and Riley. What we have is safe. Riley’s safe. He’s reliable and comforting…simple. And…and that’s what I need, because that way he won’t leave.” Not bothering to wait for Willow’s prerequisite best friend pep talk, Buffy stepped around the dumbfounded redhead and went out to the main area. Putting on a happy face, she inquired brightly, “So, who’s ready to work?”

After several hours of lugging crusty artifacts and ancient leather-bound books around, as well as successfully avoiding any Spike-based conversation, Buffy tromped up the stairs to her room warily. Rounding the corner to her room, Buffy inwardly groaned when she spotted Riley leaning against her door. After everything that had happened over the past couple of days she desperately wanted to collapse into bed, alone, for at least twelve hours of uninterrupted slumber. Dealing with Riley was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Ok, well not so much the last thing, because seeing Spike had that title, but pretty high on the list of things not to do tonight. Knowing that setting things straight with her fiancé was crucial and way more important that sleeping, Buffy sighed and plastered a fake smile on her tired face and continued the short trek to her room.

“Buffy!” Riley exclaimed with a giant smile that lit up his face, making his boyish good looks even more prevalent. Opening his arms wide, he wrapped them around his petite fiancé and kissed the crown of her head. “Where have you been all day? I’ve been worried sick.”

“At the Magic Box, I forgot that I promised Anya that I’d help with the new inventory.” Buffy mumbled against his thick chest, allowing his presence to comfort her misery. While being in Riley’s arms wasn’t as…exciting as being in Spike’s, he provided what Buffy desperately sought; security, comfort and stability: the unspoken promise that he would always be there when she needed him. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not too long, maybe five minutes. Called you several times, though, figured you were asleep or something. Guess you’re feeling better now?” Riley’s stomach twisted; his anxiety mounting as he waited for her answer. He had never questioned Buffy’s loyalty until recently; until he saw how bright her smile was while she in another man’s arms. When Willow had adamantly told him not to come over due to Buffy’s violent stomach flu, his insecurities and doubt had flown of right of the charts; figuring she had been covering for Buffy, while she spent the weekend in the bed of another man.

“Oh…um…not really.” Buffy stammered, pulling away from Riley and looking up into his worried eyes. Guilt pooled in her stomach and for a minute, she thought she might live up to the gruesome sickness that Willow had explained earlier. Determined to set things right, knowing she couldn’t marry Riley without being honest with him, Buffy held onto his hand while unlocking the door and said, “Riley, we need to talk.”

When she was through bearing her soul, Buffy looked up at Riley from where she sat on the bed, eyes shining with tears, her chin trembling as she forced herself not to break down. “I’m so sorry, Riley.” When his silence permeated the air, she whispered, “Can you forgive me?”

Riley felt as though his entire world had crumbled. While he had had his suspicions, they were nothing compared to the indescribable feeling he was experiencing now that he knew Buffy had strayed.

During her confession, he had fled from his perch next to her and tried his best to pace in the uncomfortably small room. Standing near the door, he considered leaving; slamming the door and walking out on her and their relationship, but something changed his mind. He loved Buffy, had from the first moment his eyes had landed on her in Psychology class and had not for one second dreamt of a life without her by his side. Turning back to where Buffy sat expectantly, nervously awaiting his answer, Riley asked quietly, “Is that what you really want, Buffy?”

“Yes!” Buffy cried, wringing her hands anxiously in her lap. A split second flash of Spike’s face popped into her mind and she yearned for his touch, but the anguished look on Riley’s face, an expression put there by the one person who had pledged to love him forever, broke her heart into tiny pieces. It was then that Buffy realized she really did love this man. While his kisses didn’t send her stomach into a million flutters, the soft caress of his hands against her skin never sent chills down her spine, and his eyes didn’t penetrate her soul so fully that her heart wept, Buffy knew that she loved him. Maybe she wasn’t ‘in’ love with him; she truly loved and cared for him, and had made a promise to him when she had accepted his proposal. Pushing off the bed, Buffy timidly approached Riley, stopping just inches away from where he stood against the door. “You’re the one I need, Riley.”





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