Buffy sat down on her couch and rubbed her tired eyes, how on earth had she forgotten her fucken’ car? A ring she could do without, it had cost her twenty dollars at a kiosk on the beach, a car was another story altogether.
‘Do I go back now or later?’ she asked herself and mentally calculated the odds of running into him. ‘He could be awake now, going out for a jog or something, later tonight he’ll probably be out at a club or something’ she reasoned to herself and dragged herself up the stairs to the warm shower she’d been wanting since she’d opened her eyes this morning.
She was almost sad that while she stood under the relaxing spray all traces of her tryst last night was being washed away, down the not so proverbial drain. She leaned her head against the tiled wall and sighed, it didn’t seem fair. Why would she be so attracted to him if the ‘world’ deemed they ‘couldn’t’ be together? She shut off the part of her brain telling her it wasn’t the world, but them, and they could be together if they compromised.
“I don’t even know him” she muttered angrily to the steamed room and with that she pushed him out of her mind, the part she was conscious of anyway.
Wrapped in a warm towel she padded into her bedroom and took a long look at her reflection, admitting to herself she really did like those streaks after all and deciding to add more to it, maybe black and white ones, today if Lorne had the time for it. With a snort she realized he, unknowingly, had brought out the rebel waiting inside her. Sure she was rebellious in her own right she told herself, always doing what she wanted…as long as it was what her friends wanted.
“Ok, so not a rebel” she told her reflection, “But special maybe”
Spike was sitting at his kitchen table enjoying the breakfast of strawberry pancakes he had made when it hit him, it was better when they were cut in half and off someone else’s plate. With a sigh and a sudden lack of appetite he threw the remainder in the garbage and started to wash his dishes.
And isn’t it funny how something so incredibly mundane can help us reflect on those moments in your life that you know could change you forever, no matter which way you go? Maybe it was the stability of doing something so predictable, you fill the sink, wash the dish, rinse the dish and stack the dish. Doing dishes was safe even if shutting himself off wasn’t. With a hiss he pulled his bloody hand out of the water, “Bugger”.
Okay, so maybe with a knife hidden in the sudsy depths doing dishes wasn’t the safest activity, but it was in theory, and that’s what he told himself counted as he went in search of a band-aid and found one in the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink and couldn’t avoid having to look at himself, truly look at himself in the mirror.
“Ponce” he mumbled to his reflection as he ran his hand under the cold water, watching the blood mix with it and drain away. ‘S’always about the blood’ he reminded himself, another analogy from his childhood, this time from his father. He stared at the streaks of red swirling with the water and finally understood what Rupert had been talking about. Blood. It had to be about blood; it could stain you forever or heal you whole. It pumped through you along with all your passions and needs and wants. More could save you, bring you back from the brink of an all too lonely abyss and too little would leave you drained and dry, turning to dust in an all too judgmental sun. He thought about Buffy for a moment and smiled sadly, she was special, and of that he was certain.
He dried his hand and applied the band-aid to the cut before cleaning up the bathroom and heading to his bedroom to lay down, too tired to do much else at the moment. Closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep shortly afterwards the last thing he would remember thinking when he awoke was that love wasn’t brains; it was blood, screaming inside you to work its will.
Lorne studied the tired looking girl in front of him, “Bad night princess?”
She gave him a half hearted smile, “Fantastic night.”
He nodded knowingly, “Bad morning then.”
“The worst.”
“So, I was thinking we could add some darker streaks of red, throw in some black, and I don’t know how you’ll feel about this but maybe a chunk or two of white?”
She turned wide eyes on him, “How the fuck do you always do that? Know what I want?”
“I’m from another dimension sweets” he teased back and she giggled.
“So, does this morning have anything to do with a man?”
“Doesn’t it always?” she asked back with a sulk and laughed when he answered, “In my case yes”
“So you’re trying to change yourself for this guy?”
“No, no…I’m not even going to see him again actually, we called it quits last night, had one last hurrah, and here I am.”
“Hurrah?” he asked with an arched brow.
“Ok, I had several ‘hurrahs’ but it’s done, we want different things.”
“Mmmm hmmm.”
“What’s that mean?” she asked with a frown.
“Sounds to me like you both want the same thing.”
“I haven’t even told you about him, how can you say that?”
“Sorry pudding pop. Tell me about him then.”
“I don’t know that much, but I want the white picket fence and he doesn’t.”
“What about a cast iron gate instead of a suburban white wooden fence?”
“Metaphorically Lorne, not esthetically.”
“I know, I was speaking metaphorically. Do you really need someone whose going to fit into the neighborhood you want to live in with your 2.5 kids and your swimming pool, or do you want someone who fits into you instead…metaphorically” he added with a teasing smile which she returned.
“Wouldn’t even matter, he’s not ready for a relationship.”
“Maybe he’s ready for a friend then. I don’t understand people today, so ready and eager to label things that you take the joy out of finding out what it really is you’re labeling. For example, I could have just labeled this smashing green shirt as a green shirt before I put it on, but I chose to put it on and I labeled it my ‘Lorne goes for green and anything else you got’ shirt. I couldn’t label it until I understood what it meant to me to wear it. Catch my drift luscious?”
She nodded and he swatted her gently, “Don’t move, you’ll ruin my art”
“Sorry” she answered with a smile, “I ever tell you how smart you are Lorne?”
“For my prices, I have to be, I’m going to call this look the black haired white witch in a cornfield eating strawberries.”
“Okayyyyyy…”
“The black streaks, the white streaks, your natural color and the red streaks.”
“Okayyyyy” she teased back.
“Stop it you, or I’ll add an oompa loompa drinking tequila at noon, and you don’t want to know what that is” he joked back.
Spike stretched and walked barefoot onto his front balcony to light a smoke and contradictorily enjoy some fresh air when a wide smirk cross over his features, "Love isn't brains, its blood screaming inside you to work its will" he said aloud as he walked over to the jeep he recognized from the night before.
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Chapter End Notes:
thanks guys :), prelude chappy to when they see each other later, i cannot thank immortalangel08 enough for pointing out my retardation, Buffy drove to Spike's house and walked home the next morning, something that i didnt even realize lol. But it's okay, thanks to her pointing it out we now have a reason for Buffy to go back, yay. And thanks to everyone supporting this, it means the world. xox