Spike stared at the television as the car maneuvered through the streets barely making a turn to narrowly avoid the oncoming traffic. The car straightened and fled down the road ahead swerving in and out of the trucks and other vehicles crowding the street.
“Watch it up ahead, there’s a tricky turn coming.” Spike warned the driver sitting beside him. He watched on as the car slowed and spun before coming to a dead stop, the hood smashed into the front doors of a building. “Or you can do that instead.” He said flatly.
“Damn.” Gunn said setting the controller down on the empty seat between them. “That’s crazy. How are you supposed to drive on this thing?”
Picking up the one surviving controller that the two had to share, Spike pressed the start button to start over the same race. “Takes some practice.” He said as the car and his computer opponents took off in a spray of digital rocks and smoke.
Concentrating on the game helped. A part of him had quietly accepted the situation. Last night he’d been crushed by a woman he had envisioned living his life with eventually. Once school was over and she had grown up a little.
He’d had this fuzzy picture in his head, five years from now maybe, where they lived in a house with a yard and maybe a dog. A couple of kids would be nice at some point but not for awhile.
That picture was no linger fuzzy, it was now a shattered pile of razor sharp edges. Each piece slicing him in shallow gashes around his heart.
Somehow playing this game helped. He couldn’t verbalize the reason for this but he knew it had something to do with the connection he made between Buffy and the thrill of driving on the game.
It wasn’t a bad way to spend a Sunday either. They had dry cereal on the table next to soda cans. A true announcement of Spike’s bachelor status as he ate whatever his hand grabbed not bothering to gauge rather it was a good choice or not.
Gunn was too on edge to make complaints over the entertainment or menu. He was waiting for Spike to break down in some way so he was sticking around simply to make sure when it happened he’d be there to help. The thing that bothered him was that Spike seemed normal. He wasn’t yelling or calling Dru names. He didn’t try and talk himself out of the breakup either, which was good but still wasn’t what Gunn had expected.
He seemed rather obsessed with his game system. Maybe that was just helping his friend cope. But after seeing Spike’s reaction to the damaged car‘s repair cost, he honestly thought the blonde man would be in a shattered mess. Instead he was maneuvering through an imaginary town, concentrating very hard on perfecting his ability to skid around sharp corners.
“What do you say we splurge for pizza?” Gunn heard Spike ask even as his eyes remained focused on the quick paced driving.
“Sounds fine.” He agreed, not looking forward to when the breakdown happened.
~~`~~
Buffy rode along the familiar route once again as she headed for the university. It had been a strange week so far. It started when Gunn called at 2 am Sunday morning to announce things had gone well, in the sense that no one had gotten arrested. Buffy of course asked if that had been a concern.
She didn’t much care for the explanation, or rather a lack there of, he gave. It was cryptic at best. “We walked in and, well, let’s just say she was throwing a party and didn’t need a date.”
“So, what did he do?” Buffy asked, hoping it might clear up some of the mystery.
“He kinda stood there, called her some pretty unique names, and then Spike just left.” He said, trying to give a cooler version than the one that had Spike puking up his meals for the week.
It was at this time Buffy had yelped out, “Spike?”
Gunn sat on the couch at his friend‘s, his designated sleeping space for the night, and pulled the phone from his ear long enough for the ringing from her suddenly loud voice to stop. He brought the phone back warily. “Yeah, Spike. You know him?”
Oh my GOD!! Do I know him? Do I know him?!?
She was sitting up straight now, no longer half awake in bed from the early morning call.
Is he serious??
“The name sounds familiar.” She replied as calmly as she could manage, hoping that he didn’t hear the squeak in her voice. “What a strange name.” She forced a breathy laugh. “Spike, weird.” she shook her head for emphasis even though no one could see the movement.
Luckily the conversation was short and by the time Gunn confirmed plans to see her Tuesday Buffy was glad to be alone with her thoughts. Except all of the sudden her thoughts were twisting with the faces of two men. And not just two men, but friends.
She wondered how to approach this new revelation with Spike. After all they had a tentative friendly acquaintance from all outward appearances. So Buffy considered what to say to him when they met Monday while he headed for class and she headed home.
She considered her options of just blurting out she was dating Gunn, asking Spike if he knew Gunn and even the outrageous plan of telling him she was sorry to hear about his girlfriend.
That last one was definitely unacceptable but she still tried to play out what to say to him, even as the bus pulled towards her and she held her books after her first class of the week. She mumbled under her breath, now practicing several versions of a simple greeting.
And she kept practicing as she watched the line of people exiting the bus, some with books in hand, others with backpacks and the occasional briefcase. When the line stopped she simply looked up and the usually cheerful driver, clearly expecting something.
“He’s not here, cream pie.” Lorne told her and he seemed saddened by the fact.
She nodded once. “Oh.” And stepped onto the beast.
Then there was Gunn again. He wasn’t doing anything bad, or wrong. He was just somehow cut off. This started from the moment he picked her up on Tuesday for a meal at his place and study.
He had a couple of roommates in the big old house but the couple chose Tuesday to be spent there because the other residents of the home all had class, leaving the them in quiet. Gunn made up sandwiches, brain food, while Buffy set up their notes and her laptop.
The studying went fairly well. She had questions and he answered and vice versa. Yes, Buffy was rather proud of herself for getting the entire assignment done with minimal help. Her graphs would have to be redone with Excel but other than that, she was good.
She was really impressed with Gunn. She figured his only problem with computers was that he hadn’t been forced to learn about them before. He was doing great though. Like a duck to water.
She was just about to compliment him when he looked up to announce. “I’m not going to be able to hang tomorrow. Maybe Friday too.”
“Hu?”
“Yeah, this thing with Spike. He’s a mess.” Gunn said as he filled out a questionnaire at the end of the chapter about “What We Have Learned” before he elaborated. “I’m going to hang out with him. You know, make sure he doesn’t accidentally take an entire bottle of valium or something.”
The simple idea that Spike would do such a thing had her momentarily frantic. “Would he really do that?”
Gunn set his pen down, apparently now finished with his class work and turned to Buffy. “I don’t know. It’s weird.” His whole demeanor changed. There was true worry radiating from him. “He’s not acting like a guy who lost his one true love.”
“What do you mean?”
At first her curiosity seemed sweet. But as he studied her face something in her eyes, or maybe the way she asked, but something about Buffy made Gunn suddenly uncomfortable about sharing. Now that he knew Buffy had an idea who Spike was, he felt it wasn’t really his place to share the details.
“It’s nothing. I guess I just expected him to go on a bender or maybe throw a few things. All he does is go to class and play video games though.” He said now putting his books and notes away. “I just figured he could use a friend.”
“Yeah. You’re a good friend.” She’d meant to say it to detour him from her worry over Spike possibly hurting himself. But when she said the words what she heard was a truth.
Gunn was a good friend. Possibly a best friend or the potential to be. But she suddenly was able to put her feelings into a context her brain could work out.
As good as Gunn was as a friend, he wasn’t a boyfriend. That spark that was missing, it was the emotion and passion that comes with someone she felt a connection with. And that little zap of electricity, that momentary thrill that could instantly fill her body with joy, that was what was missing.
Between her decision to try dating again and her stubbornness to avoid Spike in a romantic way she’d completely overlooked a simple fact. She wasn’t particularly attracted to Gunn.
Sure, he was good looking, definitely smart and even funny on most days. He had a heart of gold and obviously wanted to take care of the people he held close. He was an amazing catch.
And yet…
But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him. He was having enough difficulty dealing with Spike, she couldn’t add to that with a round of “Its not you its me.”
Then Wednesday came and went with an extra bus ride where she saw Spike in the face of every passenger. Then there was homework alone during which the words just ran through her head while she read, not retaining a syllable. Her dinner was tasteless and as she took a hot shower in the hopes she could relax a little there was only one thing in her head.
“Would Spike really hurt himself?” She looked up after wiping the steam from the mirror. Her hair lay wet and loose down her back, droplets of water escaping only to slide down her back.
The pink clean face looking back seemed strangely unfamiliar to her. Buffy didn’t know what it was. Her eyes were still green just this side of hazel, sun kissed blonde hair and a tan from the summer reflected back. She still looked the same but there was definitely something there, so she looked closer.
“What are we going to do about you?” she asked in a voice that came a bit too close to her mother’s.
The wet haired mess seemed to be looking her over slowly. “What are you looking at?” She said in her best don’t-mess-with-me voice, and then giggled at herself.
Others looking on might think she’d lost her mind, but for Buffy it was therapy of a sorts. A way for her to cope being in a home that she’d grown up in that had always been filled with the sounds of others.
Being alone in your home when you’re a child is exciting. Alone at your childhood home as an adult when you knew no one is going to be there anytime soon is just wrong.
She started brushing out her tangled damp locks after quickly throwing on an oversized T-shirt and clean white cotton undies. “Ok, I have to tell Gunn. We can’t keep up this whole thing. I learned my lesson with Riley.” That settled in her head, she kept her eyes on the mirror, checking for any sign of descent from her clone.
So far Buffy-clone seemed on board, so she decided to tackle a more difficult subject.
“And now we have to have another reminder about Spike.” This time she leaned forward, resting her hands against the counter top and staring down the now dry woman with still damp, but neatly brushed tresses. “He was in the first grade when Clinton was elected. You actually were voting at the time. Huge gap there baby. You know it. And lest we forget,” She paused and wondered where the hell the word ‘lest’ came from. ”Gunn’s bestest pal. Pal of Gunn. Talk about adding mud to-”
This time she stopped to try and think of a good metaphor but gave up quickly. After all she was on a roll. “Something else messy.”
And the more she talked, the more she heard the words and made the excuses, the louder another set of facts repeated in her head. A set of facts that fueled her unconscious thoughts and dreams.
He had that cute half smile that always made her heart rate pick up. There was something about the way he walked, heck the way he moved, that made her stare open mouthed when she wasn’t prepared.
He was single now.
His laugh sounded like music, and made a part of her sing. When he smiled all out she couldn’t stop staring at his perfect mouth and wonder how he tasted.
Also, he was now single.
Whenever he was near, his scent made her swoon. He could hold a decent conversation and she hardly ever felt uneasy when there was silence.
And by the way, have I mentioned he’s very not attached right now.
At this very second!
Buffy-clone stared back at her, and there was definitely something different about her. It took Buffy a few more good stares but she thought she knew what was new. What wasn’t there before.
She didn’t like it. So she did what any respectable woman would do in this situation. She went to bed and hoped it went away.
Thursday morning when Buffy-clone greeted Buffy from her place in the wall Buffy still saw it. Plain as day in the now serious face of her twin.
Acceptance.
She didn’t think Spike was attractive. She didn’t have a crush and she wasn’t falling for him. No, not a one of those things were true because she had already fallen.
“So that’s it.” She told herself while she lined the bristles of her toothbrush with paste. “It’s out of my hands.” She waved the toothbrush at her reflection. “You know you’re just asking for trouble.”
She glared at the woman in the mirror as she scrubbed the night from her mouth. The minty taste waking her up even as she realized just exactly what had happened. There had been a another decision in her life, and for some reason this decision seemed like a big deal.
She tried to figure out what she was going to do next.
Gunn, it had to be Gunn. They had to talk.
It had only been a few days, but this week was definitely turning into a rather interesting series of revelations. Even though she’d taken the ride to school more times than she could accurately count, today was different.
When the bus pulled to a stop she noticed her destination was coming up. It was going to be tough, she was going to see him soon and she had no idea how Gunn was going to take the news that she just considered him a good friend.
Even as she stepped off the bus she dreaded the thought that this might hurt him.
~~`~~
It started about 20 minutes earlier. Spike was beating the tar out of some hairy beast on some fantasy game when for the first time, his character lost. The avatar was down with bright red oozing pixilated blood while “Challenge Incomplete” flashed across the scene.
That’s when Spike set down the controller. It sat there on the floor between his booted feet for a solid 30 seconds before Spike stood, called out a litany of curses and very calmly, very smoothly and with no trepidation at all, lifted his foot only to bring it down flat on the floor a few inches from the controller.
He sat back down, eyes still on the untouched controller as he leaned forward with his hands hanging loosely between his legs. “All that time with her, all that time. What a waste.”
His head was shaking back and forth. Gunn couldn’t do anything but wait for what happened next. He still had no idea how bad good old, up for a laugh William a.k.a. Spike was going to get.
“I mean, I put off school for her and didn’t transfer here till I was sure she was set in LA.” He was sitting up now, clearly upset. “And after the accident, I really thought we were meant to be, you know Charles?”
Yeah, this was it. When “William” started calling him “Charles” things were getting serious. Half looking at his watch as he tried to figure out how long he had before class, Gunn seriously contemplated skipping. If he missed something Buffy would clue him in.
After all, she’d understand. She knew how bad things were for Spike.
With confidence that missing one class couldn’t throw him, he decided to let his friend keep his wingman one more day, class or no class.
Probably.
“Yeah I know. But look, at least you know now. Its no great comfort, I get that. But its better than spending more time thinking everything is hunky dory.” He tried to lay it all out. With any luck there would be a little more cursing and then another week or so of feeling like crap, then Spike would get over it.
Also maybe he wouldn’t have to skip class after all. Because no matter how much he tried to logic it out in his head he really felt guilty about missing a session. He wasn’t the kind of guy that played hooky.
“She came to my bedside every day after that wreck. I never once doubted she was the one.” Spike got off the couch and grabbed a couple of cold beers, the universal signal between guys that one had something to say and the other was expected to stick around and listen.
Gunn took the proffered beer but didn’t drink it. He knew that if he did that there was no turning back, and there would be no computer class. He set it on the coffee table instead and listened for what he knew was coming. The motorcycle accident.
“Buggered up for nearly 2 months you know. One misstep and two broken legs busted in 5 places, not to mention my ribs-” He winced just remembering that pain. Not at the time of the accident. No, thankfully all he remembered of that were clipped images that made little sense.
He remembered waking up after the surgery though. The shiny new pins holding his left knee together not to mention the plate running the length from just below his right knee to about 4 inches above his ankle. Not that he could really see it or feel it. He was covered from hip to toe in casts. But the pain, it was everywhere, not at all specific.
He was already tearing even as his eyes were adjusting to the bright lamps of the hospital. The saltwater drench his cheeks as every fiber of his normally healthy body cried out in agony.
And she was there. Back in those days his sweet dark princess was such a lady. She always preferred the modesty of a long dress. Her tiny cuffed sleeves were almost doll-like. Her eyes were wide with wonder on most days, but this day they were red and swollen from her own tears, and her own pain.
When he caught her gaze the hurt throbbing through is body oddly faded. “Dru?” He barely croaked out past his dry throat.
She immediately rushed to him, leaning over the side of the bed and pushing his blonde curls away from his eyes. “Spike?” Her gentle fingers wiped away his tears as she smiled down at him. “My sweet bad boy. Why must you ride that terrible machine?”
“Won’t touch it again.” A sharp bolt shot through his torso when he tried to turn towards her. “Oh god kill me! I swear I’ll never touch another of those soddin things again!” He groaned out a final raspy howl as the pain moved along before easing. “Just give me some decent drugs, please?” His eyes were clinched shut tight as he tried to shut out the blaze.
“Oh good, we’re awake. Are we ready for our codeine?” A too chirpy voice asked. The plump redhead with an unflattering bob hairstyle came in pulling a cart with tiny tubes and vials along with plastic wrapped supplies sitting on its shelves.
He opened his eyes and briefly thought of wishing for Jessica Alba to land in his lap, but he didn’t think that Dru would care for that joke. Also his lap was in no condition to receive visitors.
His first few days were a bit of a blur, but a blur with Dru by his side and never ending talk shows on the telly. He remembered Angel and Darla coming by once that week, they had taken Dru out for a meal while he was X-rayed. That may have been the moment that changed Dru, but he couldn’t know for sure.
She’d been gone for 3 hours, and when she returned her eyes were again red, but different. She seemed a little nonsensical as well. He’d thought that maybe she was playing a joke but her words had a meaningful rhythm to them. He soon deduced his friends, the drug dealing couple, had let Dru sample some product.
Not that he was a virgin to experimentation, he just remembered being surprised by several things that day. It was one of his most pivotal.
That was also the day the men came, dressed like overpriced lawyers and to this day he wasn’t sure how it all happened but his insurance company had sent the jokers down with papers to sign. It happened to be at a time that he was completely coherent, the hospital having switched him to good old Ibuprofen which helped with the aches but kept his mind on the clear side.
He didn’t understand the legal terms, and he wasn’t sure it was making any real sense but according to GQ one and GQ two he was going to be pretty well off due to a recall on his bike. And due to the company’s desire to avoid bad press from his incident, they were willing to settle on a decent cash settlement.
They explained while he read. Somewhere within the conversation he understood that the insurance guys wanted him to take the deal. He wasn’t real sure what to do as he read over sections trying hard not to constantly look back at the dollar amount typed up numerically in several places. It was just a lot of zeros for one number.
“I don’t know.” Honesty seemed like the best choice. “What about all this?” He asked pointing to the heart monitor and the drip hanging above his bed.
The two men looked at each other and one said something in a low voice Spike couldn’t hear clearly. Then GQ one cleared his throat. “We could have the hospital’s charges added in separately by the company. I’m sure they would agree.”
He looked from the men surprised, then back to the papers, flipped a few pages and eyed the spot he was expected to sign. “How do I know if this is the best deal?”
The men exchanged another look before the hushed words started up again. This time it was Mr. GQ two’s turn to talk. “Mr. Pratt, I assure you we have negotiated the best terms we could. After all, we take our percentage from that number.”
Apparently number two believed in honesty as well. Or at least Spike hoped he did because he really wasn’t in much of a position to be picky. He was a broke bartender, barely legal enough to do that and had no family alive anymore.
Again he stared at the number and imagined what he could do with it. Things that might make a difference. “I’ll need a pen.”
The months after that were spent in therapy, moving in with Dru and becoming a fearsome foursome with Angel and Darla. Things changed so fast in that time that looking back, it was strange he never stopped to wonder what was going on.
Prim sweet Dru, who’d only planned to stay for a summer had never left. She never mentioned her home in Sheffield. There were never any calls from her family and she lost nearly every friend she’d made. But in turn she had latched onto Spike’s friends. Angel and Darla rarely called without wanting to speak to Dru.
It kind of made sense at the time. He was still wrapped in casts so he wasn’t going out much those days. But he wasn’t going to make Dru hide in their apartment. The same one she still lived in to this day.
Her clothing changed, her speaking changed and by the time he was up and moving around he found that he had to push himself to keep up with her.
She worked as a temp during the day, but most nights she was out dancing and when he was able to go along with the help of a cane what he saw shocked him, at first. But really, it was no big deal. Or so he told himself at the time.
The were in the back corner of one of the local bars. The kind only the seedier residents visited. He watched her lean down and delicately hold the sliced straw in one hand while she pressed her index finger against the other nostril to snort a line of coke.
As he watcher her stand up, brush off the underside of her tiny nose and smile at him, he just stood and smiled back. What was he going to say? She was still his sweet girl. He loved her and she loved him, well and often.
She would still sit with him if a bout of pain hit. She was essentially supporting them both until the settlement went through while all he could do was lay around on the couch. His bartending job was long gone. Not that the boss held any ill will. He’d been by a few times, usually with a bottle of scotch, but he needed a man behind the bar. Spike couldn’t do it. Walking was a challenge and would be for another few months, or so he’d been told.
His days were a long run of “same shit, different day.” He really had no idea if it was Monday or Friday and he was going a little mad, then he’d seen the seventh or eighth commercial for a local college.
“You can reach your potential. All you have to do is try.”
It was kind of cliché, but the commercial had a point. He’d wanted to go to Uni back home, but there just wasn’t the money. He’d been desperate so he came to the states. Now here he laid back on a couch in a moderately spacious lower middle class apartment waiting for cash from the settlement to land in his bank account.
He stared back at another commercial, this one for a tech school. It was the final straw, he was going to walk without that cane, he was going back to school and he was getting the hell out of LA.
Ok, the money took a little while, leaving LA took longer and ended up being just as painful as the accident.
As he recovered he made plans to begin school. He signed up for classes that fall and made plans to look for work.
He called Dru constantly during the day as he attended school in LA. He announced to her that he was going to finish 2 years there, but then they were leaving so he could continue his education with a more open curriculum and she was not pleased.
Her entire being had kept changing as he adjusted to his new life. Her dresses had been replaced by tight leather pants and black corsets to be worn instead of a shirt, not under it. She still seemed like herself though, outward appearances didn’t seem to be a result of anything but fashion.
While he was at school that first year he worked hard, and studied hard. Finding a job delivering for a deli every afternoon was great for him. The walking and the riding only helped his recuperation.
By the beginning of his second year there wasn’t a limp in his walk, although he had picked up a swagger in his step that had nothing to do with the accident and everything to do with pride in himself.
What he failed to notice that his long nights studying were the same nights Dru went out partying, Something that slowly turned to every night of the week for both. He was too busy to notice that she was no longer working, both now living off of the ample amount in his savings.
Then it was time for him to transfer. He’d done all he could at the local college. He had to leave LA, and he was almost ready to declare his major. American Literature was good, but one of his stops, Mclay’s Dentistry, had him considering another possibility.
The woman who ran the practice was very shy but he’d managed a friendship with her and was curiously interested in what she did for a living. He’d never even considered it but the more he thought about it the more he liked the idea.
Dru threw a fit a week before he had to leave for Sunnydale. She screamed, she cried, she ripped up one of her blouses. In short, she was out of her mind.
He did what he could promising visits and flowers and to make sure she continued getting what she needed to live on. He had to repeat this and other things to get her to relax. In the end he left, she kissed him good bye and they struggled to keep it together.
Spike snorted at it all. The pointless disaster of it all. “Oh well, in a month she’s going to have one sorry surprise of her own.” He said staring at Gunn.
Spike was still standing and took another drink off his beer. “There’s no way she can come up with the rent.” he smiled at how frantic poor dear Dru would be when the payment notices started coming in for water and electricity.
“What do you mean?” Gunn wondered.
Spike had almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. “She’s got no way to make payment. Homeless in a month. Maybe less if they find out I dumped her.”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
Spike forgot, people didn’t know here. Gunn didn’t know. “I always took care of Dru. When I was in LA, after the cash came I always made sure she had everything. Couldn’t give up my place though and switched it to her name when I moved out but I paid the bills. All of them.”
Without thinking Gunn took a swig from the bottle. “You’re out of your mind. Student loans and scholarships only cover so much. Hell the rent for this place must be bad enough.”
Spike grinned widely. “I never did tell you about the money from the accident, did I?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
There was alot of information I wanted to include in this and the next chapter so I'm a bit worried about the flow. But if you;ve made it this far you are probably used to the way the character's minds jump around. I hope. Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
Ok.. so.. there is the backstory for our pal Spike. And for those of you who were concerned about Gunn.. see.. no need to worry. I just like Gunn. He's nifty.