Buffy stifled a yawn and cleverly tipped the champagne flute to her cranberry colored lips, sipping the sparkling amber liquid in attempts to mask her boredom. Sighing, she polished off yet another glass of bubbly, placing it on the nearest waiter’s tray and deftly grabbing another. Friday night had definitely arrived and with it came a level of anxiety and despair that she never knew one being could possess. While Buffy was relieved that Riley had accepted her apology and agreed to move past her transgression, she truly wished that elaborate party to announce their engagement, which his parent’s had slyly finagled out from underneath her mother, had been postponed to a later date.
The intimate affair she had once imagined, tucked away in the jasmine scented backyard of her childhood home, filled with only close friends and family, had been trampled upon and rebuilt to the specified constructs of Riley’s upper-crust mother. Sandra Harrison Finn, the only daughter to multi-millionaire media mogul and first love to Richard Harold Finn, local hometown football hero and recent elect into the Iowa State Senate, was used to having her every wish granted without a moment’s hesitation. Due to her future mother-in-law’s visions of grandeur, Buffy’s friendly down to earth soiree had been nipped in the bud and swiftly turned into an elaborate celebration in the ballroom of Sunnydale’s finest hotel. With just over two hundred guests, most of whom she didn’t have the foggiest clue as to who they were, Buffy’s anxiety levels had skyrocketed and only seemed to be calmed with the ever present trays of champagne circling the softly lit ballroom.
Slightly dazed and bleary eyed with an enormously false bright smile plastered across her face, Buffy gratefully accepted her fiancés arm as he guided them across the room to the head dinner table. Thankfully, the meal was about to be served; which would allow her both something other than alcohol to fill her empty stomach and an excuse to sit down, since the four inch black heels that had seemed like a good idea earlier were now slowly trying to kill her. Staring down at the plate, she growled in frustration at the petite fowl and vegetables; wishing that the cream colored china was filled with the cheeseburgers and fries she had originally requested instead. Opting for something more filling than what was offered; Buffy grabbed two dinner rolls and idly munched on the buttery carbohydrates in hopes that they would quell the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Buffy, are you feeling ok?” Riley whispered, leaning over close to her ear. “You don’t seem like you’re all here tonight, babe.”
“I’m sorry for being all space-cadety tonight, Ri. Just tired is all, didn’t get much sleep last night and then with all the last minute things to do and all.” Buffy apologized, instantly regretting the dour mood she’d been in, as well as the five flutes of champagne. Smiling brightly, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek and gasped when a shock of platinum hair caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Pushing the chair back quickly, she stammered, “Umm…excuse me, uh…ladies room!” Not bothering to scoot her chair underneath the table, she hurried from the room in what she hoped was the direction he had disappeared; leaving a bewildered fiancé to gather her forgotten napkin that had fluttered to the floor in her hurried departure.
Out in the hallway, Buffy dodged several meandering couples as she eagerly searched the hotel for any signs of Spike. When she had no luck finding him in the hallway, Buffy headed towards the front of the hotel in hopes of locating him in the bar. As she rounded the corner swiftly, the hemline of the cabernet colored cocktail dress swirled around her knees, which promptly buckled when her eyes landed on her first love, chivalrously pulling out a chair for the sinuous brunette with doe eyes that had accompanied him to class the previous day. Gasping, Buffy fled from the doorway, her cheeks reddened with shame and pain as she hurried down the hall towards the restrooms; never noticing the handsome man with glasses that joined the couple, brushing a kiss across the supple lips of the mysterious woman.
Inside the bar, Spike laughed heartily as the tale Wesley had spun for them came to an end. While the painful events of his first week back in Sunnydale were still fresh in both his heart and mind, he was genuinely happy at that moment and gratefully accepted the distraction that the presence of his friends provided. After the fallout with Buffy, he had contacted his longtime friend and editor, Winifred Wyndam-Price, to inform her that he had managed to write out several chapters of his next book and would be more than happy to have her and her husband, Wesley, visit for the weekend to hammer out the rough first draft. Eager to see her friend, as well as an impromptu vacation, Fred had accepted the invitation, but had declined the offer to stay at his home, deciding instead to book a suite at the only reputable hotel in Sunnydale and declare a second honeymoon; since their own post-nuptial vacation had been cut short due to an unfortunate incident involving the naturally clumsy and accident-prone, Wesley, who had tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs, ending up with a broken leg.
“Earth to William!?” Fred exclaimed as she waved her hand in front of Spike’s face, trying to jostle him from the daze he had suddenly slipped into. When his startling blue eyes connected with her whiskey brown ones, she smiled and prodded, “Where’d you go?”
“Oh, um…sorry ‘bout that…thought I saw someone I knew.” Spike mumbled, draining the last dregs of beer from the bottle; his eyes fluttering back to the entrance of the bar; hoping to catch a glimpse of the petite blonde he had envisioned earlier. Apparently, after several drinks his mind had resorted to conjuring up false images of her to satisfy the ache in his heart. Not seeing Buffy, he shook his head and muttered, “Guess m’eyes are playing tricks on me.”
“Not meaning to pry, oh who am I kidding, right? I love to pry!” Fred drawled, her native Texan accent dripping with twang. “But, you’ve been more mopey than usual. Everything all right?”
At Spike’s insistence that there was nothing wrong, his childhood best friend, Wesley, instantly knew a lie when heard and interjected, “Honestly, you haven’t seemed like yourself, William….rather, dejected, and I have to wonder if perhaps your mood has to do with the young woman you mentioned earlier in the week.”
“Is he right, Will? Is this all about some girl?” Fred asked, intrigued. While they had been friends for many years, all the way back to their freshman year in college when she had adopted a fairly embarrassing crush on her lab partner, it had been years since he had allowed his mood to be dictated by someone of the fairer sex.
“Isn’t it always about a woman, pet?” Spike replied, cocking his eyebrow sarcastically. “Listen, it’s been a long day, yeah? Lots of revisions to be made and what not, so I’m going to shove off for the night. You love birds head on up and take advantage of that suite.”
“Well, ok…but only if you’re sure you’ll be all right.” Fred demanded, burrowing her tiny frame in Spike’s arms for a hug. “It would go against the friendship code if we just left you upset.”
“Fred, I’ll be fine, promise.” Spike assured, kissing her forehead lightly before turning her over to her awaiting husband. “Now toddle off, you’re keeping me from work. Quite sure that isn’t what an editor is supposed to do, yeah?”
Out in the hallway, Spike enviously watched the happy couple disappear down the corridor to the elevators before turning to leave and bumping in to someone. “Oh, sorry mate! Didn’t see you there…Rupert?” He asked, surprised to see both of the Giles’s in the hotel. Grinning devilishly he patted Rupert on the arm and said, “Rupes, you old devil! Whisking the wife away for a little tryst?’
“Dear Lord, William!” Rupert exclaimed, while his raven haired wife chuckled. “Of course not, honestly! We’re here for Miss Summer’s engagement party.”
“Buffy? Party, here…tonight?” Spike muttered, shocked as he realized that his apparition hadn’t been imagined at all.
“Yes, Buffy…from class, blonde girl, third row at the end… tiny little thing, really. Surely you know her William.” Rupert exclaimed, mistaking Spike’s bewildered expression for confusion. “Come on then, we’re late enough as is…you can join us. Quite sure she won’t mind, very nice young lady.”
Digging in his heels, Spike tried his damndest to stay firmly planted in place, but was surprised to find that old Rupert wasn’t as decrepit as he thought. Stumbling along behind the Giles’s, one with a determined expression and the other with a more knowing one, Spike reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled into the grand entrance of the glowing ballroom. “Really, Rupert…I’m pretty sure that I am not on Buffy’s guest list.” Spike exclaimed, panicking as he took in the surroundings.
“Nonsense, William!” Rupert barked, swatting at Spike’s hand as he tried to pry it from his grasp, “Why on earth would she mind? Obviously the rest of the free world is here, why shouldn’t you be as well?”
Unsure of what to say, Spike opted to stammer inaudibly and do his best impression of a guppy under attack; his eyes locked on the lovely blonde being twirled around on the dance floor by her lumbering fool of a fiancé. Thankfully, Jenny swooped in to his rescue and lightly placed her hand on the forearm of her husband and quietly said, “Rupert, dear…it’s obvious that William doesn’t want to be here. Any reason other than that is none of our business.”
“Of course,” Rupert murmured, dropping William’s hand and taking the one his wife offered. “My apologies, William, I honestly don’t know what came over me. Do as you wish, but I am quite sure your presence here wouldn’t be a problem.”
Spike offered up a quite mumble of acceptance to Rupert’s apology, but didn’t make any move to leave; his eyes remained locked with the bride-to-be. The world seemed to disappear around them, gazes fastened, as if they were the only two people in the room.
Joyce Summers might have partaken in more than a few glasses of champagne, but she was still alert enough to notice the change in her daughter’s demeanor. Stiff backed and wide eyed, Buffy’s attention was no longer focused on the dance she was sharing with her fiancé. Nope, instead, with every twirl Riley introduced her head whipped around so that her eyes could remain locked on a spot located directly behind the table where Joyce. Turning in her seat, Joyce instantly found the distraction…Spike. Frozen solid, his eyes sparkled with unshed tears that were captured in the shimmer from the chandelier’s overhead. All of the sudden, as if popped with a whip, Spike fled from the ballroom without saying a word to Buffy.
It was in that moment that she was hit with the full implications of her meddling. The only thing she had accomplished was keeping two people, who were obviously very much in love, apart. Turning back around to face the dance floor, Joyce smiled softly at her daughter, whose eyes were also full of tears, but also of questioning, and staring luminously at her mother. Making a swift decision, Joyce cocked her head in the direction Spike had left and mouthed to her daughter, “Go!” When Buffy didn’t move from Riley’s arms, Joyce repeated her order again with a wave of her hand and smiled when her daughter finally stepped away from her fiancé.
“Riley, I can’t do this.” Buffy stated, wringing her hands anxiously for a moment before sliding the engagement ring from her finger. With shining eyes, she looked up at her dumbfounded fiancé and handed him the ring. “I’m so sorry for…everything, but I can’t marry you.”
“Why? I…I don’t understand, Buffy. You said…you said you loved me and wanted to be with me! I thought we’d gotten past your insecurities.” Riley pleaded, reaching out to grab hold of Buffy’s shoulders. “Please don’t do this.”
“I have to, Ri! It’s not fair to you if I stay…not when my heart belongs to someone else.” Buffy stepped away from his hold and whispered, “I thought I was over him, I really did and I do love you. I’m sorry.” Without waiting for any response from Riley, she gave one last look at her mother, smiled, and high tailed it out of the ballroom.
Out in the hallway, she looked down one hallway and then the other without any luck...and then, luck rained down on her when she spotted the tale tell brightness of his hair just beyond the double glass doors of the front door. Bursting forth, she stumbled and wobbled in the towering heels and cursed herself for deciding to wear them. Grumbling, Buffy leaned over and fumbled with the straps for a moment before finally getting them loose enough to wrench the shoes from her feet. With a jubilant cheer, she sprinted down the hallway and shot through the front doors; a heel in each hand.
“Spike!” She shouted, frantically searching the parking lot for any signs of him. Turning around in circles, her spirits soared when she spotted his car pulling from a spot at the other end of the lot. “Spike! Wait!” Buffy screamed, the ferocity burning her throat as she dashed across the lot in the direction of his car. Tiny pebbles pricked the soft skin of her feet and the cold night air chilled her bare arms and legs, all of which went unnoticed as she closed in on her goal. “Spike! Don’t go!”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Look! An update! Wow! So sorry that it has taken me what...2 weeks? I blame my lack of creativity on my best friend, Britt, who kindly loaned me all six seasons of Smallville. Let's just say that it's been only 2 weeks and I am almost done with all of them. Obviously, I haven't done anything other than watch yummy nummy Tom Welling and James Marsters. Please forgive me for my tardiness. I hope you guys like this. Let me know! **PS, has not been betad. My husband gratefully gave me his flu and I feel like le poo.**