The next couple of weeks passed uneventfully. Buffy and Spike avoiding being alone together, due to Buffy being bossy and Spike flirting with the girls. Both of them were miserable but doing a great job of hiding it. Diligently they passed on their combined knowledge to the slayers, avoiding each other’s eyes when stories of events used in their teachings reminded each other of times when they’d fought side by side.
They were all due to go out to celebrate Andrew’s birthday on Friday. A meal was organised, followed by a bit of clubbing, and even Giles was up for it! Dawn had done all the planning.
That morning Giles was just walking past the telephone when it rang, he picked it up.
“Giles, hi, it’s me,” said Spike weakly.
“Spike, are you okay? You sound dreadful.”
“No, I’m pretty sick. Got that stomach flu that’s going around and I’ve been up half the night. No way can I come in to work or make it tonight - apologise to the boy for me,” he replied.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Spike. Make sure Helen looks after you well. Rest up and we’ll see you when you’re feeling better,” said Giles.
“Will do,” Spike replied. He hadn’t told anyone of Helen’s departure.
Giles put down the phone.
“Who was that?” asked Buffy, walking along the corridor heading for the training room.
“Spike. He’s ill and won’t be able to make it tonight.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Andrew will be upset - he still hero worships the guy,” Buffy said, not sure whether she was glad or sad not to see him with Helen that night.
Ooooooooooo
Spike put the phone down.
< "That’s it. I’ve always been love’s bitch but now I’m love’s bloody coward. Least Giles bought the whole being ill routine." >
He went to his record collection, a product of many an afternoon going around second hand markets buying all his old favourites on vinyl, not CD. He preferred the old fashioned hiss as the needle connected with the record before the music kicked in. He flipped through them; it was an eclectic mix, Velvet Underground, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, The Smiths, and a Joni Mitchell album nestling somewhat incongruously in the middle. He reached for it. It was time to do a bit of wallowing and good ole Joni was always there to help. He played it loud knowing his neighbours were at work but he wouldn’t have cared if they had been home.
A few hours later and he was still lying on the sofa, music blaring. In fact, the only thing that had changed was that he was now pissed, having drunk a good third of a bottle of Jack Daniels.
“Doesn’t cost quite so much to get drunk these days,” he mused, one advantage of no longer having a vampire constitution.
He hadn’t showered that morning, nor had his run, nor shaved. He just lay there and moped.
Oooooooooo
At lunchtime Buffy had decided she’d go to see Spike and Helen. She thought she’d offer the olive branch to Helen by asking if she’d like to come along without Spike that evening. There was no need for her to miss out and they had sort of gotten off on the wrong footing. She decided that in person would be better than the phone so as soon as the morning session was over she grabbed her coat and hurried to Spike’s apartment.
As she approached the front door she could hear very loud music from inside. If she’d been in a cartoon she’d have been able to see the walls of the building bouncing in time to the beat, it was so loud. Hardly what you’d expect if someone was ill.
She knocked on the door in the vain hope that someone might hear it. She was just contemplating kicking it down in frustration when the music stopped, the end of the album reached. She knocked on the door as hard as she could. Eventually she heard someone approaching and the door slowly opened.
What greeted her was not a pretty sight. Spike stood there swaying slightly from getting up too quickly. He was wearing a bathrobe with what looked like nothing underneath, his face was pale and his complexion blotchy. His chin, normally shaved smooth as silk, was bristly and rough. He squinted at her, bloodshot eyes half closed against the light.
“Spike!” she exclaimed, “God, you look awful. You should be in bed. Has Helen gone out?”
Before he could answer she walked past him into the apartment. He stood there holding the door for a few moments until he pushed it shut and followed her.
Buffy looked around the flat. She hadn’t been there before but Willow had said how nice it was. It didn’t look nice today. All the drapes were still closed so she pulled them open. There were dirty dishes piled in the sink, a bottle of JD and a glass were on the floor near the sofa. The TV stood on its stand in the corner but the screen was missing. Spike said nothing, just went and sat back on the sofa and poured more Jack Daniels. Buffy looked at him then went to the bathroom. A quick look confirmed what she’d thought on seeing the mess - one toothbrush. Helen had left him. No wonder he was in such a state; he’d never taken rejection well. She went back into the lounge and stood in front of Spike.
“This isn’t going to do you any good or bring her back you know,” said Buffy firmly.
Spike looked up, eyes vague due to the alcohol.
“What?”
She sighed and sat next to him.
“She’ll come back,” she said more gently, “Where’s she gone? To a hotel?”
“LA,” said Spike, “She’s gone to LA and isn’t coming back.”
“You don’t know that,” replied Buffy, “We all do things in the heat of the moment. No reason to hit the bottle. Did she go today? Is that why….” She stopped and just ended with a gesture at the bottle.
“She’s been gone for two weeks,” Spike said softly.
“But why didn’t you say? I didn’t know.”
“No one knew. No one would still know but for you coming here. Why are you here exactly?” he asked coldly.
“I …er….well….I was going to ask Helen if she wanted to come tonight. Figured we’d not hit it off and since you’re part of the team, she is……er….was too so thought I’d try to make it up.”
“Yeah, well she’s not here. Don’t let me keep you, lots to do.” He reached down for the liquor but Buffy was too quick.
“I think you’ve had more than enough of this. When did you last eat? Drowning your sorrows never works. It sounds harsh but you will get over her in time.”
Spike started to laugh quietly to himself.
“What now?” said Buffy.
“Don’t you get it? Don’t you see?”
“See what?” she asked, “Spit it out, Spike, you’re starting to annoy me.”
Spike’s tongue was loosened by alcohol and his pride was in tatters. He looked at her and quietly said,
“It’s you, Buffy, it’s always been you. I’m not drowning my sorrows, I’m drowning in you.”
Buffy looked at him in amazement.
“Is that why Helen……?” her question tailed off.
“Yeah. I tried not to show it but she’s a bright girl, didn’t want to be second best. Can’t blame her.”
“But Spike I …….,” she started.
“Don’t need to say anything, pet.” Spike cut her off.
He got up and stood looking out to the garden, his back to her.
“Just go. I just couldn’t bear seeing you all dolled up tonight. I’ll be okay.”
“Spike,” Buffy walked towards him.
“For Christ’s sake, Buffy, I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. Just bleeding leave me be.”
“Spike!” shouted Buffy.
He started and looked round at her.
“Let me finish my sentence!” she cried.
She went up to him. He looked down so she took hold of his chin and made him raise his head until their eyes met.
“Spike, what I said in the Hellmouth, I meant it. I love you. I thought you were dead but I always dreamed of you, was always thinking I’d seen you. I couldn’t believe it when you walked in the room that day. My dreams, my prayers were answered but then Helen arrived and how could I compare to her? She’d been there when you became human. I was there when you died. It’s haunted me all this time that you didn’t believe me. But I had to back off, I couldn’t ruin what you had.”
Spike couldn’t believe what she was saying. Had he heard right? He was so pissed, could this be a dream?
“Buffy…” he started. This time she interrupted him but not with words, she stood on tiptoe and firmly planted a kiss on his lips.
He hesitated for a moment; still unable to believe it, then kissed her ardently. Kissed this woman who he’d loved for so long from afar, kissed her like his very life depended on it.
When they parted, both breathless, Buffy said,
“Now do me a favour, go have a shower, and shave and get sobered up. You’re coming out to Andrew’s party.”
“But that’s not ‘til 8 pm, it’s only 1:30 now,” said Spike, tilting his head and smiling at her.
“I know,” she replied with a cheeky grin, “Now get your shower and I’ll phone Giles and tell him I’m taking the afternoon off.”
Without further ado Spike rushed off to the bathroom and had the quickest shower humanly possible.
They made love several times during the course of the afternoon. The first time was hard, rough, with them devouring each other. The last was long, slow and sensuous, each taking time to give the maximum pleasure to the other.
As they lay in each other’s arms, Buffy’s hand went down under the covers to touch the scars on his leg.
“Why did you get so mad that day when I saw you and tried to touch this?” she asked.
“Thought you were just feeling sorry for me and I couldn’t bear it. I hated you seeing me like this. ” He gestured to his leg and scar on his forehead, “Scarred, weak and lame - not great attributes to have.”
“You’re a dope! I don’t care about this. I don’t care that you limp. It’s you I love, Spike, the complete package however it’s wrapped. Vampire, human, I don’t care - it’s you I need. Though I do have to say you look good with a bit of colour in your cheeks.”
She shrieked as he grabbed hold of her and pulled her beneath the covers.
tbc
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