The Giles house was dead quiet as Spike and Buffy made their way into the front foyer, drenched from head to toe in rain water. Buffy tipped-toed farther inside, as Spike pulled his key from the lock, and softly shut the door. He wasn’t sure if his father was home or not, having left the older man to go visit Hank next door earlier in the day, and didn’t want to alert him to their presence and have to come up with a fairly believable excuse as to why both he and the petite blonde in front on him were soaked to the bone.
Putting his keys on the old wooden table by the stairs softly, Spike looked up to find Buffy watching him curiously. Her bright hazel eyes locked with his own blue ones, and she smiled lovingly at his appearance.
Like her, he was just was wet. His bleached locks had come unglued from the super sticky confines of his hair gel, and they were now matted to the top of his head, a few rebellious strands hanging low on his forehead. Tiny beads of water stuck to his upper and lower lashes, making them appear even longer, causing to further draw out the brightness of his eyes as he stared at her patiently. His soft blue shirt clung to his chest and abdomen, the rock hard muscles of his upper body visible to her hungry gaze, and God, was she enjoying it. The tight black material of his jeans seemed even tighter as it clung to ever contour of his thighs and legs. Not to mention how much it outlined his manly parts.
Buffy blushed at that thought, and looked away shyly, desperately wanting him to say something. Anything to break this potentially awkward moment.
He said nothing though, but instead kept on staring at her, drinking in every detail, filing them away in his mind. She looked so beautiful, drenched with rain, and dripping onto his hard wood floors, as she kept silent. Her long blonde hair was tangled in several knots, doused down so that it clung to the side of her perfect face, hindering her left eye from his gaze. Small water droplets ran down the slope of her smooth cheek, along the dips of her neck and collarbone, then disappeared down the top of her damp shirt. Spike had the sudden desire to follow that same path with his tongue.
“So, um, what now?” Buffy asked, finally meeting his eyes again.
Spike swallowed slowly, giving his brain time to catch up to his penis. “W-well, now we, uh…well, we should probably…” But even he wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, and decided to just let the thought linger for a moment, seeing if she would take the bait and decide to finish it for him.
“R-right, we should probably, you know, do that.” Her eyes widen the same time his mouth fell open, and she figured she should amend that. “W-well, you know, not that, because that would be wrong, but the that that we should probably do, ‘cause that is the right that…not the other one.”
She was clearly nervous, her brows furrowed, and even now had managed to confuse herself. She only rambled when she was nervous or unsure about something, and Spike knew he should probably stop her before she went full Willow-mode and he couldn’t stop her, but at the moment all he could concentrate on was her lips.
The way they looked. The way they moved as she rambled still. The way they were so soft and inviting, as if they were calling to him silently. They way that they kissed him on the beach earlier, like she could never need anyone else, like all the years apart didn’t mean a thing, like she still loved him after all this time.
And then Spike wanted-no, needed- to kiss her again.
When Buffy saw the look in his eyes, the lust that darken his icy blue orbs to a shade of dark navy, her own eyes widen in surprise. “Spike…” She breathed, slowly backing up even as he advanced on her tiny form. “We can’t…”
“Why not, Buffy?” He whispered, coming to stand directly in front of her, with his hands on either side of her shoulders, much like their pose earlier this morning when they had taken a lust-filled trip down memory lane up in the tree house. She had her back pressed up against the cool grains of wood in the wall behind her, trying very hard not to let him know just how he was affecting her. She had to stop this. It was wrong on so many levels. He was getting married for God’s sake, and she…well, she just couldn’t afford to have her heart broken again.
“B-because y-you’re engaged, to Cordelia.” She murmured softly, hazel eyes darting back and forth between his eyes and lips. Her breathing was erratic now, and she couldn’t seem to control her body’s response to his. Because God help her, she wanted to kiss him, badly.
Spike frowned, eyes downcast, focusing on her full pink lips that were glistening with a shear layer of water on them, making them look even more enticing to his hungry gaze. “Don’t-” He whispered dismayed, his throat closing up in frustration. “ Don’t say ‘er name. Just, let’s pretend that she isn’t here. Let’s pretend.”
Buffy’s eyes fluttered closed softly, and she licked her lips in anticipation. Spike smiled loving at her actions, and he slowly leaned down, letting his own eyelids flicker close as he neared her lips.
“William? Buffy? Is that you?”
Spike pulled back so quick that he lost his footing on the water slicked floor. Reaching out blindly for something to grasp onto to kept himself from falling, he let his hand clasp around the first thing her could reach. Unfortunately, that happened to be the petite blonde leaning her weight against the wall, and she began to wobble too. They both ended up toppling to the floor, and landed on their asses in a small puddle.
Looking up from his spot on the hard wood floor, Spike met the concerned eyes of his father. “Hi da’.”
Giles seemed even more confused now, and his brow furrowed in perplexity, as he stood tall in the entryway between the living room and the front foyer. “Good heavens, son! What on God’s earth are you two doing?”
Buffy smiled at him sheepishly, before scowling at the nervous bleached blonde to her left. “Thanks. I haven’t fallen on my ass nearly enough these past few days.” She whispered to him harshly.
Spike first gave her an apologetic look, before raising his eyebrows in an ‘we’ll talk later’ expression. Turning back to his father’s expectant look, he ran a hand through his dampened locks, biding his time.
But before the younger Englishman could come up with a sensible answer to his father’s inquiry, two other figures entered the room.
“Hi, little brother! Oh, hey, what’re you guys doing on the floor?” Angel stood behind Giles, frowning at the two drenched blondes that lay in the wetness of the floor. He had his arm around the waist of a beautiful blonde woman, that Buffy could only assume was Darla, and even she seemed to be greatly intrigued about what exactly had just occurred here.
Angel hadn’t changed much, Buffy noticed, and smiled inwardly at the thought. His dark brown hair was shorter, and still worn in the ever popular gelled do, standing on it’s ends. Dark brows lead down to warm chocolate eyes that seemed to hold wisdom beyond his years. His lips were tight, his frown deep and intense, as he stared down at them. His body held the appearance of a man who had gained a noticeable amount of weight, then lost it in every other place but his face. Small lines had begun to form on his forehead, undoubtedly from the years spent brooding over his past indiscretions, but he still was youthful, and handsome.
Darla, on the other hand, was a fit as they come. She was tall and thin, with bright green eyes, and shoulder length blonde hair that glittered in the California sun. Soft, pink lips outlined brilliantly white teeth, and produced one of the most beautiful smiles Buffy had ever seen. Her slender body was clothed in a red wrap dress that accented her curves, and protruding belly. She had the look of confident young woman, and proud mother-to-be who was also friendly and down to earth. And if Buffy was completely honest with herself, she could see she and Darla passing for sisters.
Suddenly Buffy felt very nervous, having three people staring down at them with expectant looks marring their faces, waiting, anticipating just exactly they would say as to why they both were soaking wet, and laying casually on the hard wood floor. She swallowed loudly, and her already wide eyes grew even wider, and she prayed that Spike would come up with some kind of excuse very soon.
But Spike kept silent, and the petite blonde next to him kicked him in the shin of his right leg. He yelped, surprised, and turned his eyes back to her, only to shot daggers at her before turning back to their audience. “We were just…” But he stopped suddenly, throat dry and closing up fast. He coughed loudly, clearing his airway, before attempting to not choke on his words again. “We were just coming in from the rain. Seems the beach isn’t the best place to be with a storm hits.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
“Then how did you both end up on the floor?” Giles questioned, clearly frustrated at son’s lack of forthcoming-ness.
Buffy decided then was a good time to cut in because Spike wasn’t doing a very good job at covering up. She silently wondered how he ever got away with all those times he snuck out of the house to climb up to her window and see her. Either Giles, Jenny, and Angel were all very heavy sleepers or didn’t bother to ask him where he had been when he had finally returned to his own room. They probably just always assumed that he would be going to visit her.
“We were just surprised, is all.” She told them, smiling unsure. “You had called out to us just as we made it in the door, and being wet and all, well, we lost our balance and fell. Ergo, both of us ending up on the floor.”
Giles and Angel didn’t seem convinced, but they both dropped the topic anyway. Darla remained to look on with interest, and now slight amusement. She then adverted her green eyes toward Buffy, and smiled warmly.
“You must be Buffy. I’m Darla. It’s great to finally meet you.”
After excusing herself to run upstairs and change clothes, Buffy was glad to have a moment to herself. It gave her time to think, to put everything into perspective. The past few days she’d been coming on all depressed and stuck in the past, living a lie. All her old feelings for this town, and the people in it, especially Spike, had just came rushing back and it overwhelmed her. She wanted so much to have the time she lost here being in New York back, and in doing so she had unintentionally stopped living her life.
And she did have one, really. New York had taken a while to get used to, but she did eventually come around. High school there had been fun. Not quite as great as all those memorable times she’d had at Sunnydale High, but it was bearable nonetheless. She’d made friends quickly, and had managed to become quite popular in her class too, something she had never had a chance to experience in Sunnydale. Her two closest friends in New York, Winifred Burkle, and Kate Lockley, were really great, and Buffy had finally truly felt as if she had found her second home. Sunnydale would also be her first.
When college started in the fall of last year, Buffy was lucky enough to be roomies with Fred, who had decided to stay local with the petite blonde after high school. Kate had recently left for the police academy in upstate New York, and both Buffy and Fred were very saddened to see her go. Life went on however, and soon Nina had joined their close-knit group of friends. The three were almost always inseparable, and college seemed to become a lot like high school to Buffy.
Riley didn’t come into the picture for quite some time after that. Buffy had met him previously at the college bookstore when she had dropped a load of books on his head, and gave him a minor concussion. He had been sweet and charming, with a boyishly handsome smile. Smart, with a solid background, and a reliable personality, he was a right catch for any young woman looking for a serious relationship. Problem was, he was only interested in having a serious relationship with Buffy-something she just wasn’t quite so ready for yet.
A soft knock on the door drew Buffy from her deep thoughts.
“Come in.” She called out, looking down to quickly make sure she looked alright. Satisfied, she raised her eyes to find Spike standing silently in her doorway, in fresh clothes as well.
“You alright?” He asked, staring at her warmly.
“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She answered, walking to the dresser, and reaching for her brush, quickly running it through her tangled, matted hair, careful not to pinch her scalp.
Spike shrugged at her question, taking a few cautious steps into the room. “You’ve just been up here for a while, is all.” He told her, coming to stop in front of the bed.
“Just thinking.” She said, finally finished with detangling her hair. She turned around and met his questioning blue eyes.
“‘Bout what?”
“Didn’t we already play this game?” She laughed, shrugging her hair behind her shoulders.
Spike smiled. “Guess so, huh, pet? Last time seemed to start just about the same way, right?”
Buffy’s expression suddenly turned serious, and she crossed her arms defensively. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t do good to let it end like last time.”
“I don’t know, pet. I think last time ended quite nicely.” He smirked saucily, letting his tongue curl behind his teeth in a way that made Buffy’s insides flip.
“Spike…” Buffy breathed, running a hand through her hair, obviously stressing over the subject. “Look, we both know that it can’t happen again. It can’t.” Even though she hoped her voice didn’t waver as she said the words, she was sure it did.
“Buffy…” Spike sighed loudly, stepping toward her quickly, only to watch her back away from him cautiously. His expression swiftly changed from exasperation to annoyance. “Oi, Buffy, come on. Don’t do this.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Not to do this.” She told him, standing firm, trying to convince herself as well as him.
“Look, we both know that it’s still there between us. The fire. It always has been. I know you feel it, Buffy.” He said huskily, taking a chance and stepping toward her again. He was happy to find that she didn’t move away from him this time.
“You know I do.” She replied softly, and Spike smiled at the sincerity in her eyes. “But it just can’t happen between us, Spike. We missed our chance.”
“Don’t say that.” Spike whispered, his eyes locked on hers.
“Why not? It’s the truth. Three years is a long time. A lot of things can change. A lot of things have changed, Spike. We’re not the same people anymore.” She told him, not wanting to be weak anymore. These past few days since she returned to Sunnydale, she’d been weak, pining away for Spike and the past, watching as Cordelia dangled him in front of her again and again, having her heart played with like a child’s toy. She wasn’t gonna let it continue this way.
“But we’re still in love…aren’t we?” Spike asked softly, titling his head to the side, studying the mix of emotions that played across her face. He saw confusion, anger, lust, love, and more confusion, and he suddenly wasn’t sure what he wanted her answer to be. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted her to answer at all. If she said yes, he would be the happiest man on earth, but then he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop after a few kisses. He’d want more. But if she said no, his world would be crushed. And he’d still want more. Either way, it would end badly because of one important reason Spike refused to acknowledge at the moment: Cordelia.
He had agreed to marry her wholeheartedly when he had asked her months before, and he honestly did want to marry her then. Resigning yourself to the fact that you can’t be with the woman you want most would do that to you. He loved Buffy, he really did, but he didn’t want to be alone for the rest of his life, and Cordelia was-what was the word?…convenient?
Spike cringed at the harshness of his thoughts.
Buffy seemed to really think about his question, and was silent for several minutes. She, in reality, didn’t know how to answer his question. Sure, she still loved him. She probably always would. But for the first time in her life, she was starting to doubt that he still loved her. Or at least was still in love with her. How could he be if he was engaged to Cordelia. If he had never came to be with her in New York after graduation as he promised he would?
She felt the sudden rise of anger in the pit of her stomach.
“Spike, I-” She began, her voice pleading, but had her thoughts cut short by Angel’s appearance in the doorway. “Angel.”
Spike’s head whipped around to find his older brother waiting patiently behind him. He shot him an annoyed look. What was with all the bloody interruptions today?
“Sorry. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asked, concerned at the tension that filled the room. He silently wondered just what he had walked in on.
Spike looked back at Buffy, waiting still for her answer. She only gave him a pointed look, one that told him she was angry with him, responding to Angel while not taking her eyes off of Spike.
“No. We’re done.” Her voice was cold, and both men heard the anger that dripped off of it.
She quickly made her way past Angel and out the room.
“What was that all about?” Angel asked, walking fully into the room to talk to his brother.
Spike sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair. “She’s upset with me.”
Angel only looked more confused now. “Why?”
“Because of Cordelia.” Spike said, walking over to the window to pull back the curtain and look down below.
Angel nodded, understanding. “She has a right to be.”
This comment seemed to anger the bleached blonde and he swiftly turned around to face his brother, anger flashing into his icy blue eyes. “No, she doesn’t. She’s the one who was banging Captain America when she promised to wait for me! She knew I would come to her, wherever she was. She knew! But that wasn’t enough for ‘er, was it? No, she had to have a taste of the perfect college boy while I was goin’ out of my bleedin’ mind countin’ the days ‘til high school was o’er and I could hop the next flight to New York. She has no right to come back ‘ere now, and give me the bloody fifth degree because I decided I wanted to marry someone else. It’s not ‘ow it works.”
By the time he was finished, Spike was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring in absolute anger and frustration. His hands automatically went to his hair again, and some of the blonde curls came undone from the gel. Angel stood there, watching his younger brother, and couldn’t believe how stupid he was. He was obvious to anybody with eyes that Buffy was still head over heals for Spike, and that Spike returned the feelings wholeheartedly.
“Come on, Spike, man.” Angel tried to reason with him, leaning against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. “You can’t tell me she doesn’t have a right to be jealous?”
Spike looked up at him, confused. “Jealous? She’s not jealous. She’s selfish.”
“She’s not.” Angel disagreed.
“Yes, she bloody is!” Spike exclaimed, hands on his hips, pacing back and forth in front of him. “She doesn’t want me anymore, but she doesn’t want anyone else to, either.”
“Spike, she still wants you.” Angel reassured his brother, watching as he stopped pacing and turned to face him, a hopeful expression on his handsome face.
“Ya think?” Spike asked, then shook his head, and sat down on the end of the bed. “Oi, what am I thinking? I’m getting married in a week. It shouldn’t matter anymore.” He looked up at Angel, feeling helpless.
Angel nodded in understanding before grabbing the chair in the corner, and sitting down on it backwards. “It shouldn’t matter anymore…but it does, right?”
Spike was silent for a moment, before nodding slowing. “It really does.”
Angel half laughed, half smiled, and leaned forward slightly. “You both have meant so much to each other for so long. It’s only natural to have residual feelings, Spike.”
“But that’s just it, Angel. These feelings, there’re not residual. There’re completely new feelings. Like when she arrived on my doorstep, I fell in love with her all over again.” Spike explained, staring at the carpet thoughtfully. Angel remained silent as his brother continued. “It weird. Three years ago, I thought there was no possible way I could be more in love with ‘er. But now…”
When it was clear that he wasn’t gonna finish his thought, Angel cut in. “You do realize that she still have feelings for you, right?”
Spike looked up with him and their eyes locked. “I thought she did.”
“She does.” Angel reaffirmed.
“Yeah?” Spike asked, smiling bitterly. “How can ya tell? Is it the way she’s so bloody cold to me all the time? Or maybe it’s the way she can’t stand to be ’round me anymore. I bet that’s it.”
“It’s the way she looks at you.” Angel said, honestly. “It’s like you’re the only thing she can see.”
Spike smiled lovingly, his eyes unfocused, as he remembered the last time he saw her look that way at him. The night they made love.
“But then again,” Angel continued, “You’ve always been the only thing she can see.”
Spike tore his gaze from the carpet, back up to his brother’s face, his brows furrowed in uncertainty. “What d’ya mean?”
“Well, just that whether you choose to admit it or not, you were, and still are the most important thing in the world to her.” Angel informed him, waving his hands about in the air to get his point across. He laughed, amused by his thoughts. “I mean, in high school, nobody ever had a chance with her. You were all she ever thought about, talked about. Everyone knew it.”
Spike listened to his brother intently, not fully believing what he was being told. It just didn’t seem feasible to him. And if he were totally honest with himself, being that important to someone scared the shit out of him. Because then the only place to go would was down; because how long would it be until he wasn’t the most important person to her anymore?
“Then why did she choose Riley?” Spike asked, anger and annoyance in his voice.
“Why did you choose Cordelia?” Angel questioned, and Spike didn’t answer him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to whoever pointed out that my other chapters had somehow gotten deleted. This is one of the missing chapters.