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Chapter Four

The Past Always Comes Back to Haunt Us



A few days later Spike sat in his kitchen feeding Imogen her lunch, something that resembled strained peas and carrots that looked rather lumpy, stringy and smelt absolutely ghastly. She sat in her highchair looking rather indianite at any suggestion that she eat what was put in front of her, even as her father attempted the old favourite………

“Look Imogen here comes the train….choo… choo!!!,” Spike pushed the spoon towards his daughter, her little hand sprung out pushing it away from her face, resulting in the concoction ending up all over her father, running down his face, and splattering onto his clothes.

Spike in defeat put the baby spoon down, moved to the sink to clean the goo off his face, and attempted to clean it off his clothes before it stained. Behind him he heard a crash, turning quickly he watched on in horror as Imogen pushed the bowl that held her lunch onto the floor. Forming her own masterpiece upon the tiles, a look of horror on her fathers’ face, and a little smile (some would say a smirk) with a gurgle of joy from the baby girl, upon creating such a mess.

“Oh bugger!”

Imogen 1
Spike 0

Spike thought as he shook his head at the chaos that lay on the floor, the little monster of his daughter, and trying at the same time to remember where he had left the mop. He looked at the state of his blue suite and wondered ‘what on earth he was going to do now’, he had an interview in half an hour and tried to contemplate how he was going to get there in time. Just what he needed today, to be late for a job he desperately wanted and needed.

Imogen continued to create havoc with her appearance as she played with the food that had been caught in the tray of her high chair, looking rather pleased with herself, escaping a meal she clearly didn’t want. She gurgled and banged her hands on the tray before her, looking at her father in bemusement with an ‘aint I cute’ look.

Voices from outside caught his attention away from his daughter and the entertaining time she was having with her food. He caught a glimpse of the Summers’ family leaving the house from the back door, heading for the Jeep parked in the backyard, quickly making a split decision, he ran for the back door and onto his patio.

“Joyce, Buffy, Dawn!” he yelled towards the family, “Wait please!”

All three heads whipped around to the intrusion that startled them all, Joyce being the first to respond, thinking the worst she dropped her briefcase and dashed over towards the younger man.

“Spike, what’s wrong? Is it the baby? Has she hurt herself?” Joyce shouted as she pushed Spike aside, scuttled into the kitchen, looking at the sight before her, she broke into a fit of laughter, reducing her to tears.

Buffy and Dawn had followed in pursuit of their mother, pursuing her into the kitchen, catching the vision of Imogen covered in a greeny goo all over her face, hair, clothes and not to mention anything else that lay in the vicinity. The grins that came to both of their faces, broke into larger smiles as they both attempted not to brake out into the laughter that possessed their mother. But it was contagious, soon all the women joined each other in deep howls of laughter, as the accompanying tears began to stream as they laughed so hard. All three sets of eyes moving from Imogen to Spike and the mess both of them were in, it was a sight to behold.

“So the emergency is the massacred green goo on the floor hey, or the fashion statement that your making now!” Buffy just couldn’t help herself with the barb.

“Ummmm Spike love the look, very Nuevo Reich, very now,” Dawn added to her sister’s little comment on his state of dress.

“Yes Spike that green goes very well with the blue suite, rather striking I’d say,” Joyce joined in on the fun her girls where having at his expense.

“Okay people, you’ve had your fun!” Spike look at the women in horror as they laughed at his predicament, “Please enough already!!”

“So Spike what can we do for you that seems so urgent?” Joyce asked the young man before her in between laughs, “Maybe call 911 for the Fashion Police”

“Ha ha, very funny!! But can we please get serious here?” Spike pleaded with all of them for some sanity to return to the room.

“Ok, ok, Spike what’s the problem?” Buffy had settled down somewhat enough to ask the question.

“Look, I have a job interview in half an hour and I obviously cannot go like this!” Spike pointed towards himself and the goo that clung to his suite.

“But I think you look rather handsome like that, goo and all!” Buffy just couldn’t help herself.

“Well Miss Summers’ you may find it attractive but I doubt my maybe employers will!” Spike was beginning to get very annoyed at the trio, he was losing his sense of humour very quickly.

“And your problem is…?” Buffy responded to his somewhat now hostile attitude towards the Summers’ women.

“Well could one of you please look after Imogen while I change my suite and try to clean up this mess,” Spike pleaded with the women, gesturing with his hands towards Imogen and himself.

“What, no way mister!” Buffy looked at him with a look of horror on her face towards one very messy infant. The thought of how one of them was even going to pick up the baby without getting the green goo on them boggled her mind. She and Dawn began to simultaneously began to back away from the chaos, and move towards the back door to avoid the duty being asked of them. Spike turned his attention to Joyce as he watched the girls move backwards, the obvious pleading with her maternal instincts to help, was written all over his face.

“Buffy,” Joyce uttered the single word that halted her eldest desperate exit from the kitchen.

Buffy froze on the spot, she turned looking at her mother, with a large pout spoiling her face, “But Mom!”

“No buts young lady I think that this is a job just for you!”

Joyce turned to her daughter, her back to Spike with a pleading look on her own face, “Sweetie I don’t have time for this, and Dawnie’s going to be late for class. You don’t start class for another 2 hours surely that is enough time young lady, and it’s the neighbourly thing to do.”

“But, but!” Buffy began to plead with her mother, but to no avail as both Dawn and Joyce left the kitchen by the back door. Closing off any means of escape from this little chore assigned to her, slamming the door in their wake.

Buffy returned her attention to the man before her, “I’m hope you’re happy now!” Buffy made her way towards Imogen and the mess that occupied most of her little body and features, with a look of ‘ewwwwwwwwww’ on her face. This was a job she most definitely didn’t want to do.

“Don’t be like that Sweet Heart, I appreciate your help and I’ll be forever in your debt!” Spike cockily replied, he softly began to chuckle at her predicament, “Thanks Buff! I really mean it, I owe you big time! I’ll help in your next apocalypse, I promise!”

With that he left the kitchen and Imogen in her good hands, hoping that maybe while she was at it, she might clean up the mess, and the chaos demon that had created it. Making his way into the master bedroom he removed his suit surveying the damage. It was a complete write off for the interview, even his shirt was ruined, and not to mention his tie. He looked at his tie with sad feelings it had been the one that his wife had given him on his first day of his last job, it was meant to bring him luck. He wondered if it was salvageable from the green goo, it was a vestige of his past, even if it was just a silly tie.
Remembering the past only brought on thoughts of the present, and in particular the young woman that was beneath him downstairs tending to his daughter.

Buffy.

He was so confused in his attraction to her, it had slammed itself into him the moment she walked into the kitchen this morning, leaving him dazed and bewildered. He knew that it was foolish and down right insane for him to have these feelings, whatever they where, he shouldn’t be having them. For gods sake she was a college girl, what would someone her age want with him an old man by her standards, and she probably had a boyfriend anyway, someone her own age. He thought to himself as he moved to the wardrobe and removed a new suite to replace the one he had on.

As he lay his new suit on his bed, his eyes caught the photo of his wife that lay on the sideboard, surrounded in a crystal frame, it was a wedding day picture of them both. He moved towards it as drawn by her presence to it, he traced her face with his finger, a single tear slide down his face. He wiped it away with his hand, brushing his finger slightly against his mouth too tasted his own tears, a wave of overwhelming desolation swept over him and engulfed him in a single heart beat.

Spike slide to the floor as the sobs over took his whole body, with his back to his bed he placed his hands over his face as to block out the reality that engulfed him in the empty bedroom. The tears began to flow from his eyes like a salty river threatening to drown him, he began shaking with the weight of his grief in his soul. He began to rock with the burden of guilt that enveloped him over his feelings of want and desire he felt towards Buffy. It just compounded the feelings of loss he felt for his wife, as it hung around his neck like a vice ready to strangle him. His mind whirled around with thoughts of grief over the woman he loved, and the guilt of feeling something over a woman he didn’t even know, the contradiction was just too much for him……………he surrendered to the abyss. The darkness was too enticing to ignore, if it meant release from the pain he felt, than he would embrace it. He let go and wept until he could no more……………………..


Down stairs Buffy had managed to clean Imogen up from the mess she made as best she could, she gazed at the baby and decided that she need a proper clean upstairs in the bathroom, a change of clothes, and by the smell of things a new nappy. She picked up Imogen, and made her way upstairs hunting down the bathroom in which she sponged the baby, cleaning her face, hands and hair. The baby’s room was obvious with its yellow walls and animal print borders, and the lettering spelling out “Imogen’s Room’, was a dead give away.

Buffy laid Imogen on her change table removing the offending nappy, and its contents into the nappy bin she found in the nursery. She had some trouble deciding what to do next, as she scanned the various pots of cream on the change table, not sure which one to put on the baby. Deciding that the one with the cute giraffe one with the happy baby smiling from its label would do, she applied the cream, and finished the task with a new nappy. But found that she was having some trouble on which way was the front, and what the back was.

“Your Daddy owes me big time little lady!” Buffy chuckled as she completed the nappy change, she was quite pleased with her results considering this was her first foray into changing a baby.

“Okay, what’s next?? A new outfit for Miss Future Junior Prom Queen, I think,” Buffy began looking in the draws near the cot, looking for an outfit for Imogen, with the baby slung on her hip. As she pondered her selection, she froze.

She heard a quiet ‘thunk’ of something hitting the floor in a nearby bedroom, and followed quietly with haunting sobs, that filled her heart with despair. She knew that they could be only coming from one person.

William

Buffy quickly and as quietly as possible finished dressing the baby, she placed Imogen in her cot with as many toys as she could hastily find. Standing in front of the cot she was in too minds, ‘do I go to him or just mind my own business’, her mind was made up for her as the sobs became louder and more distressed.

She went to him.

Moving along the main corridor as quietly as she could she stood outside the master bedroom door, placing her hand upon it she could feel the pain and anguish of the person inside resinate from within. With great hesitancy she opened the door to find Spike slumped over himself, with his hands in his face crying his heart out, rocking forwards and backwards with what she suspected was grief. Buffy slowly stepped into the room making her way towards him, as she got closer she spotted the crystal frame and the picture within laying on the bed.

It was a picture of a Spike in a morning suit, with a beautiful brunette in a bridal gown; it screamed ‘Our Wedding Day’ to Buffy.

“William,” Buffy whispered to Spike so softly you almost couldn’t hear it.

Spike didn’t respond, he just continued with his sobbing, he was so locked in whatever was happening to him he didn’t hear her. Buffy was so overwhelmed with sadness to see him like this, it rocked her very soul, and whatever was causing this was just tearing him apart. She stood there for a few seconds unsure what to do, finally she moved closer to him, sat down in front of him, and just grabbed onto him, encircling him in her embrace, giving him an anchor. She began moving with him, backwards and forwards, smoothing his hair, repeating over and over ‘it will be ok, you’ll see”.

As Buffy continued to comfort Spike it finally hit her, why she or no one else had seen his wife, she suspected that she must be dead. With that single thought Buffy shuddered at the thought of the pain that Spike must be feeling. The loneliness, desolation and the difficulties it must be to bring up their child without her.

“Spike please talk to me!” Buffy pleaded with him in a soothing voice, trying to break whatever had hold on him, “Please William!!”

Slowly the rocking stopped, the sobbing slowed, but the tears continued to flow slowly and quietly down his cheeks. He still had his hands over his eyes and face, as not wanting to look into the eyes of the person who had witness this showing of despair, and deep sorrow. Buffy leaned back slightly, letting her embrace loosen a little bit so she could look at Spike, up close she could only guess his emotions at this stage, her heart was breaking for him, she wanted to alleviate some of the burden he carried, but she didn’t know how. She decided to make a tough call; she hoped that it would open him up to her, maybe, even if only a little bit.

“What happened to her Spike?” Buffy asked Spike as gently and softly as she could, she continued to smooth his hair in a sign of reassurance, and comfort. Finally he lifted his head from his hands, his eyes all puffy from the pouring of his tears, and his face devoid of any emotion, yet the remains of tears where still present on his cheeks. Buffy couldn’t help herself as she wiped them away, her hand brushing them into oblivion.

“She’s dead,” Spike finally spoke with a gravely voice full of roughness, as is passing over sandpaper as it left his throat, “She died in a car accident over six months ago, and I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t get to her, I couldn’t save her, I………….”

He became speechless, lost in his own thoughts of guilt and loss. Spike look directly at Buffy searching her face with his eyes, looking at her so profoundly as if trying to find something there, maybe revulsion, pity, fear or even forgiveness.

“We were hit by a drunk, I couldn’t swerve….I didn’t see him coming….I couldn’t get to her…I was trapped in the car…I couldn’t reach her…I couldn’t save her…The baby…The baby came at the accident scene…,” Spike began to stumble with his words, his breathing becoming laboured with each breathe and word he spoke, “The blood, so much blood, blood every…ssshhhheee bleed to death…they couldn’t stop the bleeding…I couldn’t save her…”

‘Oh Spike I’m so sorry,” Buffy gently spoke to him, pulling him into an embrace to give him the strength that he needed, and that she could offer him. He pulled his arms around her back grateful for the human warmth that she offered to him, he pulled as closely as he could, wanting as if to feel her gift to him.

“I dream of her every night,” Spike whispered into Buffy’s ear.

“But every night I save her”

Spike couldn’t believe these overwhelming feelings he had for the young woman, he was elated that he was feeling something at all, and even if it was lust, it was something. But he had to be careful with these new feelings, she was just a college girl, and he was a man with responsibilities, who was he to act on his feelings for her. He felt so lost then, he realised that he had felt something again, and he knew that he couldn’t do anything about them. In his mind, he crawled back to the dark place in his subconscious, and stayed there, the light that seemed to burn so bright in his eyes, faded into nothingness as he continued to stare at Buffy.

He couldn’t believe his own contradictions, one minute sobbing with grief over his wife, and then lusting after the one before him. He couldn’t but think to himself, ‘I must be insane, what in hells name am I thinking’, he felt even more ashamed and grieved by this admission. He abruptly removed her arms from around her and moved into the en-suite shutting the door behind him…effectively shutting her out.





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