At five o’clock on the dot, Cordelia went and literally dragged Buffy from her office so they could go out for a drink and gossip. She wanted the scoop on how her evening with Angel went; everything from where he took her to what they talked about and if she’d be seeing him again. Knowing her friend had been out of the dating game for a long time, she felt it was her duty to steer her in the right direction, which of course required getting all the details. But after sitting at Willy’s and listening to her, and listening, and listening to her ramble some more, she finally held up a hand to silence the blonde.
“You do realize that in the past fifteen minutes, I’ve heard more Spike statements than I have Angel?”
“Huh?”
“Spike did this and Spike said that,” she mimicked Buffy to include the attitude she heard in her voice. “Slamming doors, grabbing my arm, getting in my face, blah, blah, blah...”
“O-kaaaaaay, what are you getting at?” Hey, Cordy wanted to know how her night went therefore she was telling her. So Spike played a major part in the telling of the events, but that was only because he’d acted like such an ass, trying to wreck her date both before she left and when she came back.
“That I’ve heard maybe four minutes worth, and even that’s a stretch, of how sweet, funny and bashful the guy that you’ve agreed to go out with again is, while the rest was spent on your sexy roommate whom you so desperately wish out of your life.” The math said it all to her, and this was a definitely a trigonometry equation of massive proportions involving two parts testosterone on either side of one extremely clueless factor who was staring blankly back at her. “You said yourself that you and Spike made up today, so why am I not hearing more swooning or worrying about what you’re going to wear on this next outing with the other guy in your life then?”
“No offense to your worshiping of the fashion industry, Cordy… but that’s on the shallow end of the pond for me. And Spike isn’t in my life. He’s more like an obnoxious intruder.”
“And you’re so not getting it.” Looking over at Willy with an exasperated expression, he nodded in silent agreement with her and interjected.
“Sorry to cut in, Buffy, but what your friend, ahem… your very pretty and smart friend, I might add-” he threw Cordy a quick wink to which she smiled brightly in return. “-is saying, is that you’ve been moaning about the guy you obviously hate more than you’ve been basking in the thought of an upcoming date with someone you do like.”
“But… but, it’s only because he was so annoying and he almost, no… tried to ruin everything!”
Ruin ‘what’ exactly, was the question since everything Spike said and did seemed to take center stage in Buffy’s head while Angel was more of a side note. “And again… it’s all about him.” Giving up, Cordelia threw her arms in the air while Buffy turned to her with the same perplexed look that caused a small, vertical wrinkle to appear between her brows.
“Cordy, I really think you’re off the mark here, whatever your point is. The only reason I talk about Spike is that I-”
“That you hate him, yeah, we got that part,” Willy cut in again when seeing Cordy huff in frustration. “But you know what they say about that fine line, right?”
“Fine line?”
“Between love and hate… the havoc it causes from the unresolved tension it usually creates.”
“There is definitely no love to be had between us,” she retorted with a definitive wave of her hand slicing the air. “Unless you count the jollies he gets from goading me into fights. But there’s… well as of just now, no hate either. More like an underlining loathing actually that I’m totally sure he feels, too.”
With an obvious effort to control her need to smack some sense into her friend, Cordy managed her sweetest voice when telling her, “All I’m saying is don’t convince yourself Angel is this great guy until you really understand Spike’s behavior.” She shook her head. “And I can’t believe I just said that about Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome who happens to have really deep pockets.”
What is there to understand? His actions spoke so loudly that she barely heard what he said most of the time. Ignoring her friend, Buffy mused out loud as some other minor detail came to mind. “I vaguely remember him saying Angel had a Neanderthal forehead.” She finished her glass of wine before adding, “Something about more neurons at work in the frontal lobe than any other part of his brain, whatever that means.”
Cordelia took a breath, getting ready to say a mouthful then abruptly changed her mind. Shifting her attention to Willy, she ordered another round for the two of them. “You may as well get one for yourself, too. This is a conversation in desperate need of more alcohol.”
“None for me, thanks,” Buffy stopped him as he turned to retrieve another bottle. “Spike said he’d have dinner ready by six so I need to head out now. I’ll see you guys later.”
Getting up from her chair to grab her things, she completely missed the incredulous look exchanged between the brunettes as they shared the same thought in their minds… Dinner?!?! This was followed by an identical quirk of their eyebrows at one another as if to say ‘totally whipped’ where Spike was concerned and ‘how naïve can Buffy be’ as to the implication behind what she’d just said.
Turning her attention to Willy after their mutual friend left, Cordy openly admitted, “You’re pretty smart yourself, there, Mr. Willy…”
“Guglielmo Saverio Puccini actually, but the English translation of my name is William Xavier. So to fit in better with the New York culture, I just use Willy.” He shrugged.
“An Italian man, I see.” He looked at her curiously after her comment, so with playful grin, she asked, “So how long have you owned this place? It’s in a great location, very classy inside so it has to be… profitable?” It was obvious this man also had the smarts for business or else he wouldn’t set up shop in this competitive town if he didn’t do well for himself.
“About fifteen years now, and yeah, I make out pretty well. Don’t need to physically work here really, I just enjoy being around people. And what about you Miss Cordelia…”
“Chase.”
“An English surname then.” At her surprised nod that he’d know that, he added, “It’s an occupational name, or rather nickname for an exceptionally skilled huntsmen… or huntswoman in your case.” This earned him a confident smile on her part, and dare he say, slightly flirtatious?
“Tha’s me alright. And the ‘hunter’ part seems to run strong in my blood even to this day.”
And if Willy didn’t know any better, he could swear she was looking at him like prey right now. “So, how come I’ve never seen you in here before today?” he asked, thinking someone as stunningly beautiful as she would give him the simple explanation it was only due of their mutual friend, because there was absolutely no way she would actually be flirting with him, right?
Elbow on the counter, she raised her forearm to rest her chin in her hand, deepening her smile. “I never had a reason to other than this is Buffy’s favorite place… until maybe now.”
Gulp!!!
She got up and put on her coat, knowing it was the best strategy to leave him with that parting thought. To her surprise, he immediately offered to escort her to the door like a gentleman. He wasn’t all that gorgeous, more like cute, cute enough for her to ‘hunt’ the possibilities. The guy was smart, quick witted, well off and Italian, so he definitely had to have a seriously passionate side. As soon as he was walking beside her however, she noticed he was slightly shorter than she was, or maybe it’s the heels I’m wearing. Oh well, so he couldn't have it all... though all men are one height when they're horizontal!
~~~*~~~
As Spike had hoped, his night at home with Buffy was going smoothly. They had dinner together while chatting away and then retired to the living room… on separate ends of the couch. He certainly didn’t mind sitting in the leather recliner they had, but preferred to be as close to her as he could. She’d turned on the telly, channel surfing so much it drove him crazy to the point where he picked up his book and decided to read for awhile.
During this time, the conversation Spike had with Angelus kept running through his head, bothering him to the point of distraction. The urge to tell Buffy, to warn her became overwhelming but he didn’t think her trust in him was strong enough to accept the truth no matter how or in what way he could choose to broach the subject. She would more than likely view it as a lie; accuse him of trying to break things off between her and the tosser for his own benefit.
His trail of thought was interrupted when a pillow suddenly landed on his book.
“Are you gonna read the entire evening?” Buffy asked. There was nothing remotely interesting on TV and after flipping through the channels for nearly an hour, she was decidedly bored. “After all, you’re the one that wanted us talking again like normal, so I’d expect you to, you know… talk more.”
Seeing the futility of trying to explain that it was she that decided to sit in front of the telly in silence that made him grab his book in the first place, he let out a dramatic sigh before asking, “What is it you want to talk `bout, luv?”
“Oh, I don’t know… stuff.” Then she rolled her eyes at him. “Or are you so far in outer space with Hawking right now that you can’t grasp the simple concept of ‘stuff’.” Her fingers made quotation marks in the air to punctuate the last word.
Spike couldn’t suppress a tiny giggle after swiftly launching the pillow back at her, catching her square in the jaw. Her astonished expression was hilarious since she clearly hadn’t expected him to do that.
“Ughh! I can’t believe you just… that’s it, this is war!” She flung a second pillow at him, smiling when it knocked his book to the floor. Uh-oh! His leer was downright evil as he retrieved both pillows, flinging them at her in rapid succession, grinning when he successfully mussed up her hair.
They went back and forth, Buffy searching for extra ammunition, her fuzzy slippers, her hair scrunchy, anything that was soft as an all out battle ensued.
Spike supposed if it weren’t for her boredom, they wouldn’t be having such a playful moment as this. Infantile as he found it, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her fiery enthusiasm while bracing himself for every attack. Seems he’d found himself amidst one of her ‘grey areas’ and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.
When they were all laughed out and sprawled on the couch trying to catch their breath, Buffy looked at her watch. “Damn, I almost forgot to call Willow!”
“Willow?”
“She’s an old friend, my best friend from high school back in California. We keep in touch once a week and it’s my turn to call.”
“Would she be home, given the time difference?”
“Yeah, but… now that I think about it, she’s probably having dinner right now. So I should wait a little longer.”
“Good.” Standing, he offered his hand to her. “I’ve got somethin’ in mind to help pass an hour or so… seein’ that you’re bored and all.”
“And that would be?” she asked skeptically even though she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up.
“Was thinkin’ since there aren’ any clouds in the sky tonight, maybe you’d appreciate what `m readin’ if I pointed out the stars to you while sittin’ in the hot tub?” He wanted to extend the time they were spending together while she was in a good mood. “I ordered a telescope online the other day. `S too bad it won’ arrive for a few days, but… I can still show you. If you’re interested?” Please say yes.
Yeah, if that didn’t sound like a ploy! But what could it hurt? It was only an hour and she was sort of interested. Knowing the stars’ names wasn’t high on her list, but she appreciated it when they all came out to twinkle brightly. “I guess so.” His eyes lit up as he smiled and she let her hand linger a little longer in his, thinking the stars had nothing on those baby blues when they shined the way they were now. “U-uhmm… I’ll go get changed.” Shaking herself mentally for making such a poetic comparison, she let him go and went to her room.
~~~*~~~
Spike found it hard to keep his head trained on the night sky, sitting as close to Buffy as he had to in order for her eyes to follow the line of his finger whenever he pointed. It wasn’t just her nearness, but the fact she actually wore her black bikini. He remained steadfast throughout his lesson though, refusing to give in to the impulse of saying anything remotely sexual and ruin the evening. Not to mention he loved the look on her face as he told her of the constellations, their individual stars and the mythology behind some of them. She had the appearance of a child seeing something for the first time and it captivated him in a way he hadn’t expected it to.
I’ll never look at them the same way again, she mused as she soaked up every word Spike said. He amazed her with his vast knowledge of astronomy. And the extra little tidbits of history he told her sounded like a bedtime story, reminding her of when she was a child and her mother used to read to her.
“If we were able to sit here all night as the earth revolved on its axis, I could teach you more as the other constellations came into view. But then we’d both prune,” Spike joked, noticing that her head was still craned upwards, a dreamy quality imprinted in her eyes. Huh, guess she’s star-struck. He would have laughed at his pun but right now, all he wanted was to kiss her so bad, with her looking just like this. Unfortunately, that would bring an unhappy ending to an otherwise wonderful evening. He just hoped that one day, she’d come around to his way of thinking, and cum around my co… he needed to stop right there. It was that line of thinking that put him in this position with her, of having to learn how to slow down, be patient, be a… gentleman. Gentleman, pfft! He was that when need be but rarely with a woman. Not until now, mate, he reminded himself. Ah, but she was worth it; he could feel it in his gut, his chest, his… He just knew.
“Will you show me?” she asked, her gaze still directed towards the heavens. “When your order arrives and we can stay up late on the weekend? I’d love to see them up close.”
The wistful sigh that escaped her lips, the mesmerized expression on her face, the hope that laced her question… It thrilled him to hear such an unexpected request, to know she was interested in something he was and wanted to see it again… with him! “Absolutely, pet.” She finally turned to look at him wearing such a beautiful and genuine smile that it took his breath away, reigniting his desire to kiss her.
“I-I… guess I better go make that phone call now.” She didn’t know how much time had passed since coming out here, so rapt with listening to the soothing bass of his accent as he lectured while thinking he should be a narrator for audio books. One could easily fall asleep to the deep, purring quality of his lulling voice. Every word he spoke reverberated through her body even though he wasn’t touching her, and it made her feel all wobbly, weak-kneed and-and... “Thank you for this, Spike.” Gathering what was left of her senses, she decided now was the time to make her exit. “I really enjoyed it. And I mean it when I say I can’t wait to see them again when your microscope arrives.”
“Telescope, luv,” he corrected her with an amused chuckle.
“Telescope… right.” She felt all… fuzzy and dazed from this… experience with him but maybe it’s just because I was looking up for so long. Yeah, that has to be it. The blood in her head must not be circulating right.
Getting out of the hot tub and wrapping a towel around herself, she gave him a half smile before saying, “I’m gonna call Willow from my room then probably go to bed. Good night, Spike.”
As she bent down to pick her slippers up, he leaned forward to cup both her cheeks, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead. “G’night, pet.” He let go of her quickly so she wouldn’t think it was any sort of a ‘move’ and watched her go inside while choosing to remain here for awhile to think about everything that had happened between them tonight… and what it meant if anything.
~~~*~~~
Wednesday………
The entire day went by like any other with them working side by side as usual, if Buffy didn’t count the fact Spike didn’t make with the sexual innuendos like he normally did. She was grateful for it of course, but also found it… odd. Perhaps he was wrapped up in work, had something important on his mind, decided to treat her decently because she was seeing someone? But then again, that didn’t stop his little taunting session after Angel dropped her off two evenings ago, so it couldn’t be that. Well, whatever the reason, she was glad for the reprieve from his teasing.
And as five o’clock rolled around, she didn’t have the time or inclination to think about it anymore. All she wanted was to stop by Willy’s for a few minutes before heading home to get ready for her second date with the Irishman. And to avoid any embarrassment Spike might cause her, she planned on informing him before Angel showed up.
When the time arrived and she came out into the living room to tell him she was going out, she could see his body go rigid but instead of the expected outburst, she received nothing.
Bloody hell! Spike’s jaw tightened momentarily before he forced himself to relax. He let out a long, irritable sigh knowing there was nothing he could say or do to prevent Buffy from going out with Captain Forehead. And if he tried, it would only lead to bringing tension back between Buffy and him and considering how good things had been going lately, he definitely wanted to keep from doing anything that would break the tentative… dare he say, friendship they were building. “Right then.”
“That’s it?” she asked, surprised he had nothing more to say despite his apparent disapproval.
“Tha’s it.” Like he was going to tell her ‘have a nice time’? Not bloody likely, luv.
She felt ‘dismissed’ when he returned to reading his book as if she weren’t standing there at all. Feeling a tad miffed, she pressed him. “Not even a ‘you look good, Buffy’, or… I don’t know… anything?”
Throwing his book on the side table, he rose and swiftly marched up to her, unable to hide the frustration in his voice despite complimenting her. “You look good, Buffy, bloody gorgeous to be frank.” She just stood there staring back at him, a blank expression on her face. And as the silence wore on, it got the better of his agitated mood. “Anythin’ else you wanna hear?” he asked tersely.
“No,” she replied softly, perplexed by his curt question. “No, I guess not. I-I just thought…” Thought what? Did she have any idea what she wanted him to say? No, none at all, she supposed. But God if it wasn’t infuriating to see him acting so… so aloof! Yes, that was the appropriate word for it. And it wasn’t because she was fishing for flattery or liked it when he got all growly and possessive, most definitely not.
“What? You want me to tell you again not to sleep with the ponce? Well, consider it said.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he defended himself with a pointed look that he hoped would leave no doubt in her mind what he fully understood from the last argument they’d had about the poofter… and then said something that – with any luck - would keep that sassy, self righteous gob of hers shut. “And since we’re on the subject, don’ even think `bout repeatin’ the ‘`m a lady routine’ again. Got the memo, luv. Now… if you’ll excuse me.”
And just like that, he walked back to the couch, picked up his book and commenced to reading once more, a stone cold look etched into his features.
He’d left her speechless, and though she opened her mouth to try for some form of retort, the sudden knock on the door prevented her from doing so. Angel. It had to be, and she didn’t know whether to feel grateful or upset for the interruption. With no other choice, she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.
In no mood to read anymore about theories on the heavens, he felt like having a physical slice of his own… preferably blonde.
~~~*~~~
Spike went to the nearest drinking establishment, sat down and was waiting for the bartender to turn around so he could order a drink. Once he did, both men recognized each other immediately, one thinking ‘oh no’, the other, ‘bloody hell’.
“You’re not gonna cause any trouble here are ya, buddy?” Willy asked.
“Nah, mate. The only trouble I’ve caused lately has come back `round to bite me on the arse. Just need a whiskey `s all. Matter of fact…” He pulled out a few bills and slapped them on the counter. “Leave the bottle.”
“Okay, boss.” Giving the man what he wanted, Willy couldn’t help but to inquire, “Can I ask if it’s just that she’s dating… or who she’s dating that bugs you?”
Spike had just raised his glass to take his first drink when the question stilled his arm. “What did you say?” Willy had his elbows leaned on the bar and a look on his face that suggested he knew all about what Buffy was doing and how it affected him. Figures the chit would blab to this bloke. “Bugger,” he muttered under his breath then downed the liquid and poured another before answering. “`Cause of who… and I don’ wanna see her get hurt.”
“Really?”
Not liking the accusatory tone the guy was taking with him, he got defensive. “Yeah. Wha’s it to you?”
“So it has nothing to do with what you feel for Buffy?”
“What the bleedin’ hell are you on `bout?”
Willy shrugged. Seeing the Brit’s irritation only reaffirmed his suspicions. “Seems to me if she meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t care so much.” And since he considered Buffy more than just a regular patron, perhaps a subtle - or not so subtle - nudge would clear the man’s thinking up before the whiskey hit.
“Jus’ how much do you know `bout her anyway?”
“After nearly eight years?” He cocked his head to one side and left the question to stand so the blond could gather his own inferences. “Lemme ask you another question.”
Spike rolled his eyes, he didn’t come here to be harassed about Buffy, he came here to forget her and find himself something warm and willing of the female variety.
“Would it make you feel any better if I told you she flirts with lots of men every time she’s here? Woman’s the biggest cock tease I’ve ever seen. But I’m sure she gets her kicks.” Willy had to bite the inside of his cheek for lying like that, but if he got the right reaction, then it would serve its purpose … or so he hoped.
“Oi! Don’ talk `bout her that way.” Seeing red right now was not in his best interest. If this bloke kept it up though, he’d knock him out and most likely land himself in jail because of it.
“What’s it to you how I talk about her?”
“The bird `s my roommate, mate. And even though tha’s all she is, I know she’s not like that!”
Pushing this kid’s buttons was working out very well indeed, so he continued. “Yeah, but you still wanna get in her pants, right?”
Spike actually laughed at that. “Who wouldn’?”
“So what does it matter if the other guy breaks her heart? Might make her an easier target, all damsel-in-distress-like. And you’ll be there to scoop her up from her misery.”
“Don’ want an easy target,” Spike mumbled around his glass, truly unaware of what he’d just said.
“Ever wondered why that is?” He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“What are you, some kind of friggin’ sage?”
Willy picked up a rag and began wiping the counter down. “Nope. I just know people.” Then he walked away, hoping he’d said enough. As for Buffy, well, she’d have to open the door of communication herself before he could give her a nudging, too. Of course he wasn’t holding his breath because it obviously took more than one glass of wine for her to do so… and it wasn’t the norm for her to drink like that.
After six shots of whiskey, Spike felt relaxed but not too buzzed to scope the place out looking for ‘Miss Right Now’. And there she is! Blonde, petite, wrong eye color, but she’d do.
Putting on his best cock and swagger, he made his way over to her. They made small talk until he’d sized up her personality for the sake of knowing which pick-up technique to apply then poured on the charm. Fifteen minutes later and he was following her out the door, never seeing Willy as he shook his head back and forth, a disappointed look in his eyes.
~~~*~~~
Less than thirty five minutes later, Spike was back at home… taking a shower and bringing himself to orgasm. With the effects of the alcohol already wearing off, his thoughts drifted to the woman he almost shagged tonight.
He’d hailed down a cab to take them to her place, hell bent on screwing her brains out. But when walking behind her as she led him to her door, he found his eyes were glued to her arse. The problem? He was comparing it to Buffy’s, and when he realized it, realized he’d picked a girl who looked similar in appearance to his roommate… he backed out at the last second, saying he felt sick from how much he’d drank. Oh, he was sick alright, just not from the whiskey and not to his stomach.
Recognizing the fact he was choosing to settle for a look-a-like is what made him ill. He didn’t want to ‘settle’. Not when he knew who he wanted. Yeah, sick of himself and his behavior was more like it.
And when thinking about what the bartender had said, he knew Willy was right. Why should it bother him if Buffy was dating, if she got hurt? She claimed to be a big girl who could take care of herself, and in the end, she’d be the only one held accountable for her actions when she got hurt… because Angelus would hurt her, there was no questioning the inevitability of that.
But would he be there for her when she fell? Offer his shoulder when she cried? A part of him would be all too eager to say ‘I told you so’, but a bigger part of him knew he wouldn’t, knew he’d never treat her so cruelly.
He sighed as he turned the water off and reached for a towel. Yes, he would be there to comfort her, not, however, take advantage of the situation as Willy had suggested. He had no desire to be the ‘rebound guy’ and have Buffy view it, him, as a mistake in judgment later. That would leave him feeling hollow, used and...
Like a proverbial slap upside the head, he realized something profound.
No matter who he slept with these days, all he saw was her, and all he felt was hollow and empty afterwards. Yeah, jus’ been ‘emptied’, mate, he tried to joke with himself, but it fell flat under the weight of his revelation.
After knowing her for only twenty days, she was all he could bloody think about, dream about. She was in his gut, in his throat, he was drowning in her and even worse, he didn’t understand the cause of it, why, what it meant. Bloody hell! He couldn’t deny it, but he could try to ignore it… try bein’ the key word. After all, he was a man who knew what, no, who he wanted… whether he understood it or not seemed irrelevant. All he could do for now was sit back and ignore things until the whole Angelus thing blew over. And it would, of this he was sure, he only hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
Roughly twenty minutes later, he was back in the living room with his book when there was a knock on the door followed by Buffy’s voice.
“Spike? Are you in there? I forgot my key. Can you come open the door please? Spike?”
“Hold on,” he hollered back and, `f course, when he opened the door she had the pillock standing behind her. Holding back from looking as disgusted as he felt, he said, “You can come in, Angelus.” Buffy looked at him in shock, but he nodded his consent. There was nothing Angelus could do to her while he was here plus they shared a rule. So it might do him good to show her he could be a man about all this even though she knew he didn’t approve of her seeing the git.
As they entered, Angelus greeted Spike politely while Spike kept his welcoming response brief.
“I’ll be right back,” Buffy glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen. “I need a glass of water.”
Angelus chose to stand near the door instead of coming in to sit down when Spike gestured an arm towards the couch. When Buffy was out of earshot, he whispered his news to Spike with a confident leer.
“I’m taking Buffy out of the city this weekend, Willy-boy.” Bouncing on his heels twice and jutting his hips forwards in a crude fashion, he added, “A little… excursion through wine country. Yup, by the time she gets back home, she’ll be walking funny. Gonna nail her good while smiling at the fact that you lost.” He was relishing in Spike’s barely controlled reaction… fists curling up, eyes narrowing, jaw ticking, one foot taking a step towards him. If he got knocked in the jaw, it would only play right into his hand with Buffy being sympathetic towards him and angry with her roommate, so he hoped the peroxide kid would take the swing.
Too bad for him Spike knew what he was trying to do. In a low, deadly voice, all he said was, “`S not gonna happen.” His girl wasn’t like that, wouldn’t fall for some grandiose, overly romantic gesture and spread her legs because of it. He’d bet his life on it. Angelus had barely opened his mouth to respond when Buffy came walking back, both men immediately composing themselves as if they hadn’t been talking.
“I had a great time tonight, thank you, Angel. I’ll, uhmm, talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Glad to hear it, and as always, I enjoyed the pleasure of your company.”
Smiling, he moved forward to give her a kiss but she moved to the side at the last second and simply gave him a quick, impersonal hug. Spike smirked triumphantly at Angelus from behind her back as if to say ‘you can try, but you’ll fail’.
After Angel left, Spike wanted to warn Buffy why she shouldn’t go away this weekend but knew she wouldn’t believe him. After saying she’d be right back after a quick shower, he took up residency on the couch again while thinking of a way to tell her without actually saying it or to somehow prevent her from… A slow smile crept across his lips when an idea suddenly sprung to mind, something he hoped would get her to break her date with Angel.
When he heard the shower start running, he took his phone out and called a good buddy of his, a person who knew someone who knew someone who knew someone else. After they chatted for a bit and had a few laughs, Spike asked him for a favor and was sure to add that there was no limit on the amount he had to spend as long as he got what he wanted no later than Friday morning.
Snapping his cell shut, he grinned at his own genius. The favor he asked was a pretty hefty one to fill and damn near impossible on such short notice. But money talked, especially his, so he picked his book back up with no worries at all.
Buffy came back out a little later wearing her flannel pajamas and rubbing her damp hair with a towel as she sat down next to him.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, luv?”
“Spike, could you put the book down for a minute? Please?” she asked nicely while touching his arm.
“Somethin’ the matter?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to say… to say two things actually. And I’m going to say them now before I lose my nerve.”
This oughta be interestin’, he mused as he took in the way she was fidgeting and biting her bottom lip. Then she shocked him when she reached out to take one of his hands in both of hers and looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m sorry that we… that I may have provoked our, uhmm…heated discussion earlier and I want to thank you for inviting Angel inside… for being so polite.” Taking a deep breath, she rushed through the rest of what she had to say. “I-know-you-don’t-like-him…” She shook her head, her breath still ragged with the effort to finish. “But… well, it-meant-a-lot-to-me-so-thank-you. Very much.”
Wow. He didn’t see that one coming, either actually. And as she squeezed his hand, looking at him expectantly with those large, beautiful green eyes of hers, he smiled. “`M sorry, too, pet.” He clasped his other hand over hers and squeezed back. When she visibly relaxed, he told her, “And you’re welcome. I can’ help it that I worry `bout you, but I have confidence and respect in your ability to make your own decisions, so… I realized I had to give a li’l, extend that respect and be accommodatin’ when it comes to Angelus.” Christ the way she was looking at him right now sent a chill down his spine yet warmed his heart.
“So… we’re good?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” She embraced him in a tight hug and kissed his cheek after whispering goodnight. When she left the room, he couldn’t help but think she’d given more of herself to him in the last sixty seconds than she probably ever had to Angelus… and the way it left him feeling went beyond indescribable.
