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Author's Chapter Notes:

I sincerely apologise for this being many weeks late, many many things going on at the moment, one of my friends came to visit from London, then my boyfriend came home, then my dad had his birthday, then I've been redecorating my bedroom and then I've been bed ridden ill with flu all week!


Anyway as its coming towards Xmas I don't see me getting any better at updates, very busy time for everyone and all my mates will be back in town and I know I'll be stretched to find me-time so I am thinking (I stress the word thinking because nothing is decided) of putting this story on a sort-of-hiatus until the xmas hols…this DOES NOT mean I am not writing it, I have been writing and will continue to write or I would say otherwise, but I am not writing enough to satisfy myself and I am not editing hardly anything to get updates done…with this in mind I thought if I slowed down the updates on purpose this would allow me to get several Chapter finished at once before updating rather than writing one at a time…and for some reason I feel better sometimes writing 3 Chapters or whatever at once because it allows them to flow better as a whole story if I'm referring forwards and backwards whilst writing (it seems odd but its how I like to work)…of course this is just a thought I'll see how much I get done this next week…




The first time he’d stayed away and starved her had been childish and she hoped he’d learnt how childish it was, but it was two days after their almost kiss in the dark room and Buffy hadn’t seen or heard a word from him.

She couldn’t let him get away with it again; it was bad enough being here and kept against her will, throw in her crazy feelings for Spike that were growing in intensity day by day and it was truly agonizing. Now that he was starving her again it was unbearable.

The last time they had both made mistakes, and even though that didn’t excuse his behaviour she’d had second thoughts about giving him what-for because of it. This time she had no guilt; she’d done the right thing stopping the kiss, and if his feelings had been hurt it wasn’t acceptable to avoid her in order to make himself feel better.

Buffy didn’t have any idea what to say to him, but she wasn’t going to stand for being treated this way. They’d had an awkward moment, they’d had them before and they would probably have had them again. Now she wouldn’t give them the chance to; she was getting out of here.

Some part of her knew from the first missed meal the morning after she’d rejected him that he wasn’t going to come to her for a long time, so she’d started thinking this way almost immediately. He’d probably catch her before she got anywhere near her aim, but it was worth trying. Now that she was mad at him the urge to escape had come back anew, it made her wonder what she’d be doing the week and days before.

Had she been staying here, for him?

* * * * *

He hadn’t seen Buffy for two whole days. Well, to be specific two days, three nights; not that he was counting.

Walking up those attic stairs this morning, it felt like he’d only been there hours ago. He knew it was stupid to hope that it felt like only hours to her. He knew she’d gone without food, conversation and companionship, which meant all that time would have been painfully realistic to her.

She’d really hate him now.

He tried to think that was what he wanted her to feel, but that was just as stupid a thing to hope for. The last thing he wanted was for her to hate him.

He paused at her bedroom door and weighed up his options; he could beat around the bush, he could defend himself, or he could man up and apologise; get right to the point and admit what an asshole he was being to her.

Deciding that was the best thing to do he unlocked the door and braced himself.

“I’m sorry, pet. I…” He stopped.

She stared at him, dead still and dead silent.

His eyes glimmered with anger; it flushed all the way through him, pumping his body with adrenaline. His calculating instinct took in every part of the scene within an instant and assessed it; she was sat on her knees in the corner of the room by her bed, her face was wet with tears and the bed was covered in uneven wood chippings and dust.

In her right hand was her hairbrush, but she was holding it the wrong way. On one side was a brush, and on the other was a sharp point designed to lift up and section the hair. He’d seen his mother use one like that once and had bought it for Buffy with that in mind, but she wasn’t holding it towards her at either end. It was extended out towards the window sill jammed into the board that covered the window, jammed into a tiny hole that was now at the base of the board.

Buffy knew it was a possibility, no in fact a high probability that Spike would find out what she was doing, but she hadn’t been prepared for what would happen after. Her heart suddenly started beating a mile a minute. She hadn’t planned ahead, she just hoped she could chip the board a little and then from there she’d make a new plan depending on how fastened down the whole thing was when she got underneath it. She had expected Spike might catch her at some point before she succeeded; she had expected him to be hurt, or angry, but he looked murderous.

Suddenly like frightened prey she ran, spooked and not knowing what else to do.

Spike knew she was going to run for the safety of the bathroom and barricade herself away from him. He wouldn’t allow it; he leapt over the bed and caught her, shoving her against the wall.

She screamed as her head hit the plaster, but before she had time to acknowledge what had happened he was dragging her backwards into the centre of the room. Her feet jerked underneath her uncomfortably as she tried to keep up with his unsteady pulls. She panicked, thinking he was trying to take her out of the room. She didn’t want to find out where or why so she started to fight him, but Spike simply didn’t want her trapped between him and the wall when he was this angry, he didn’t plan on taking her anywhere, just moving her a little.

Finally he stopped dragging her and just held her tight by her arms, but she carried on trying to get away, so he shook her to make her stop. Her hands came up to hit him, still scared he was planning to take her downstairs even though he was stood still.

He wrestled the hairbrush out of her hand, partly because she was thrusting the point at him in order to get him to back off, and partly because it was just pissing him off to have what she’d done waved about in his face. He threw it behind her and it hit the wall with a bang making her jump.

Seeing her momentarily shocked still by the noise, and by his aggression, he decided it was time to drive some sense into her. He yanked her close to him, “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he asked shaking her hard, his fingers tightening on her in a bruising grasp.

She whimpered.

He just shook her again, “You think this is a bloody game?!”

“I can’t stay here.” she whined, “You just want to keep me here forever and I’m not yours to keep!”

Is that what she thought? That he wanted her here? Was she suggesting that all this time he thought he’d been deciding what to do with her he’d really just wanted her around?

Even if it was true he ignored it. “You think this is a bloody game.” he repeated to himself, frustrated with her struggles.

She could feel his breath on her face, and couldn’t help but remember when Angel had held her this way. She didn’t like being scared of Spike, but when the memory resurfaced it brought back the fear she’d felt as well.

Spike had seen the panic earlier and it hadn’t bothered him. When she’d fought back it had been her natural reaction. But now, when he saw the terror in her eyes he suddenly felt sick; what was he doing? He loosened his grip on her, but didn’t let her go. He needed her to ground him as he tried to remember what the hell was going on.

Why had he reacted like that? Even if she chipped a hole in the window board she’d never have the strength to rip the rest down, and even if the board wasn’t there she couldn’t climb down three stories without injuring herself. He’d boarded the window to stop her trying that, but the very idea of her hurting herself caused him to pause in his examination.

After that he immediately knew his problem, if the thought of her hurting herself stopped him thinking straight, the thought of her leaving him was bound to send him crazy. And she had nearly left him.

He’d thought what she did the other night was rejection, but this felt so much worse than simply pulling away from his kiss; this was her fighting to pull away from him altogether. For the first time he wasn’t sure he cared if she left and called the cops on him, he just didn’t want her to leave, that was the part that mattered now.

Was that why he’d gotten so angry?

Buffy had no idea what to say, she’d seen Spike angry, and she’d seen him upset, but she couldn’t describe what she was seeing right now. She wasn’t scared anymore; she had no idea what he was thinking, but she knew whatever it was it was hurting him.

Spike pushed her away suddenly as if she’d burnt him. She fell, luckily onto the bed, and he stormed out of the room, locking the door as he left.

As he hit the second stair case down he started a faster pace; he almost ran out of the house and down the street. The cold air cut straight through his thin shirt, but it didn’t even occur to him that he should have stopped to bring a jacket, and he never considered going back for one. The only thing that he could think of doing right now was putting some distance between him and that house, more specifically between him and the girl in that house.

* * * * *

He was gone the whole day; it was night time before she saw him again. She was in the bathroom when he came in all guns blazing. He’d calmed down, but you wouldn’t know it from the entrance he made.

Spike was determined to sort this out once and for all, crashing through into her bedroom suddenly and slamming the door shut behind him.

“What the hell?” she shouted storming in to meet him, stomping her feet like a petulant child.

“Look Buffy. I’ve had enough of this.” he said with an unforgiving voice, “I’m tired of you. I’m tired of upsetting you and then feeling bad about it.” He took a deep breath, “You get me so riled up I lose my temper and I hate losing my temper with you.”

She stood there amazed; she couldn’t believe they were here again, him refusing to admit she had a right to be upset. “You’re not seriously blaming me for what happened earlier?”

“No.” he said; she was dead wrong, this wasn’t another one of those talks. “I’ve had enough of that too…You want to leave, I get that; you’re going to do everything you can to leave, that’s your right. I’m done with expecting you to play along, it was a stupid thing to hope for, but I’m also done with letting you run rings around me.”

Now she had no idea what was going on, his confession had thrown her off. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Spike stepped towards her, his gaze on her never faltering, “I trust you, and then I get mad when you throw that trust back in my face.” He sighed, finally looking away, “That’s my fault, not yours.” he admitted finally, “You’re my hostage, not my friend. I shouldn’t be trusting you at all.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say.

“From now on I’m not going to expect anything from you,” he said, his voice going almost soft, “apart from maybe expecting you to be the handful that you are.”

Buffy was silent, she hadn’t expected this play from him.

Spike looked at the bed as if he wanted to sit down, but he decided against it. He wanted to show her he was boss, he wasn’t going to sit and chat with her like he used to, “I hope that if I’m realistic about you I won’t be disappointed, and then I won’t be to blame for losing my temper.”

He looked back at her seriously, Buffy felt like a grounded teenager whose parents were about to lay down the law.

He began again, living up to her suspicions, “But that means I’m going to be tougher, you have to realise I’m not going to be letting you get your own way anymore. Next time I lose my temper its not going to be my fault. What I did earlier, I’m not proud of it, but I’m in charge and for your own good you’ve got to stop pushing me.”

“Or else what?” she asked defiantly.

“I don’t know.”

Buffy was taken aback, had all his bravado gone so suddenly? “You don’t know?” she repeated.

“Yes, and that’s what scares me.” he said staring at her intensely, “I honestly don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t know what I’m going to do, I don’t know what I’m doing…I’m completely and utterly lost and now you know the truth of it. I’m not playing unpredictable to frighten you. I am unpredictable, and I haven’t done anything with you because I haven’t decided what to do yet. That’s the truth.”

Buffy paused, trying to comprehend what he was saying, finding her conclusion hard to swallow. “Are you telling me I should be scared of you from now on?”

He hesitated, but answered her, “Yes.”

It was obvious what he was getting at, but she wasn’t prepared for it. She’d been scared of him at first, of course she had, and there were times that he frightened her still, but Spike wanting her to be scared of him felt wrong. She was angry at him for even suggesting it. “What you’re doing, it’s not right.”

He sighed; frustration leaking out of every breath, “I know that, it’s just…” he took another pause while he tried to think how best to phrase something he felt like he’d explained a million times, “I had this chance, Buffy. A real chance at a new life, you said you understood that. You moved away and made a new life for yourself. I just want to do the same, but now you’re acting as if that’s not a good thing to want.”

Buffy started shaking her head before he’d even finished, “I said I understood wanting a fresh start, Spike. I never said I got one.”

“What does that mean?”

Buffy wasn’t going to answer that; she didn’t want to get into personal things again. She’d shared things with him the other night in a tender moment, the moment had passed. Right now, in this moment, his behaviour didn’t warrant that kind of trust and honesty. “It doesn’t matter;” she said bluntly, “we’re talking about you here, not me.”

“You and me, we’re tied together now, luv; whether you like it or not. I had a plan, and you’re in the way of that plan.”

“What plan?” she asked bemused, “You’re just running away from your past. That’s not a plan.”

“It’s what you did.” he replied.

“But running away doesn’t solve anything!”

Spike paused, “But you said…”

“Stop assuming things, Spike!” she cried, grabbing her hair as if she was going to pull it out of her head, “I said I moved away; yeah maybe I did run, but I never said that worked. You’re always making assumptions about me and my life, what do you know about my life?!”

“I…”

“I’ll tell you what. Nothing! I tried okay, I tried to run, but it didn’t work. I’m alone, and I’m in debt, and I’m struggling to just live!” she screamed at him.

Spike didn’t know what to say, he stood there a little stunned as she ranted, but everything she said made it clearer why she’d been so irresponsive to his plea for understanding.

Buffy started to pace in front of him as she continued, “I work two jobs, Spike, and they come before everything else. I don’t have time to meet people, or have relationships, or even breathe sometimes. I have to miss college a lot because if I don’t work I don’t earn enough money to eat or pay the bills, and because of that I’m flunking things that if I had the time to do I could pass with my eyes closed. I have bank loan after bank loan and I’m this close to losing everything I have.” She suddenly stopped pacing and locked eyes with him, “I mean why do you think a 19 year old girl was in a private office at the back of a major bank 10 minutes before closing?...Do’ya think I was there talking about opening a young person’s savings account?”

Spike was glad she didn’t give him time to speak, because he had no idea what would come out of his mouth. He was trying to stay calm, but she was talking to him, and looking at him as if he was stupid.

“No,” she continued, “I was there to beg for more time to pay off my arrears. I’ve only just turned 20 and I have arrears, Spike! My ‘new life’ as you call it is worth shit!”

He reached out for her, “Kitten, I…”

She pulled back sharply so he couldn’t get to her. “Stop it!” she cried stepping away from him, “Stop with the pet names, and the affectionate touching, and the seeming like you care.”

“I do care!” he protested.

As important a confession as that was she ignored it. Part of her didn’t even hear it; the other part didn’t want to hear it. “And stop acting like I’m ruining your last chance at a decent life. I’m not. You gave up the right to a decent life years before you met me! Decent lives are for decent people!”

Spike sucked in a harsh breath. “And what am I?”

Buffy said nothing; she knew the expression on his face. She’d seen it many times before, and it always came just before he was ready to snap. She bit her tongue.

“Come on, Buffy.” Spike said, moving closer, trying to get in her face and intimidate her, “You seem to know me sooo well, so tell me. What kind of man am I?”

Buffy moved away from him, space was what was needed right now. She hoped in the time it took her to go to the bed and sit down they both would have calmed a bit. She also didn’t want to say this to his face, after this morning she was now prepared to back off if she thought it would give him time to get himself together.

She sat down at the far side of the bed against the head board, not looking at him and sighed, this was it. “You were probably just like me once, I don’t deny that. But you aren’t anymore.” she said. “When my mum died I did something, maybe it wasn’t right, but at least it was something. I went to college, I got a job. I’m guessing not showing up for however long I’ve been here probably isn’t good, but before this, I had them.”

Her tone was sad, and Spike wouldn’t have been human if he didn’t feel bad listening to her. Feeling sorry for her, and feeling guilty for his part suddenly took all the steam from his argument. He came to sit down on the bed too, but he sat on the side and faced away from her.

“I was trying to pay my way out of debt. I tried to make up for her not being here, just like you did, and yes it meant I lost a lot of things. I never made new friends; I lost the ones I had, like I’ve told you before. In doing that I hurt myself.” She paused, he looked over his shoulder and she was suddenly looking right at him. The look in her eyes made him ashamed before she even said the words, “But I never hurt other people.”

What could he say to that?

“You want to know what kind of man you are, Spike?” she continued, “You’re the kind of man that thinks it’s a good idea to rob banks with a man who…”

Spike’s brow knitted together when she paused, but she ignored it. This wasn’t the time to tell him.

“You think you can run, but you can’t.” she said taking a different direction, “No one can out run their past. Mine caught up with me, and so will yours. You can move to a different city, a different state, a different country, but you’ll still be you. You’ll still have the same past; it won’t erase who you are, or what you’ve done. It won’t scrub it clean. You’ve done horrible things, you do horrible things, and yes you may care, but you do them anyway. And maybe that makes you better than Angel, but it doesn’t make you a decent man. You’ll never be a decent man. Not when you’re the kind of man who kidnaps young girls, and doesn’t think about what will happen to them, or what damage it’ll do to them. Being here, you think that’s okay for me? Do you think even at the best of times, when I’m safe and fed and placid that I’m okay? That one day I’ll forget all this happened and be fine?”

“I know you want to go home…I don’t know what to do.” he said painfully.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said shocking him, “What do you think I’ll go home to if you let me go, Spike? I have no friends to comfort me, no family to welcome me back. I had jobs and college classes which I’ll have lost by the time I get out, and a pile full of unpaid loans at the bank. You think I want to leave because my life is so much better than this on the outside?” she shook her head, unable to finish.

She felt the tears come, she knew she couldn’t hide them completely, she forced out her last point, and as soon as it was done she broke down, “I just want to leave, because the only thing I have left is my freedom.” She felt her body shaking; she threw herself down on the bed completely, and tried to hide her face. “Please just leave.” she said into her pillow, but he heard her, and when her voice sent an aching to his heart he knew he had to do as she said.

Buffy laid there sobbing as he got up and walked to the door slowly. He stopped dejectedly, but didn’t turn to face her. “You can think whatever you want of me, Buffy…but it doesn’t mean that it’s true.” He turned the handle, opened the door and walked onto the stairs, but said one last thing before he left her, “And for the record, I’m sorry…but no matter how you twist it, I still envy you.”

Buffy looked up at him for a moment with confusion, this temporarily halted her tears.

He saw her expression in the corner of his eye. He kept his gaze on the floor, because he didn’t want to see her crying again, but he explained himself, “Like you said you have your freedom. I’d give anything to have that.” With that he shut the door to and she heard the lock click.

She turned her face back into the pillow, and cried until she fell asleep.


* * * * *



Chapter End Notes:

So yes maybe a hiatus, but I call it a "sort-of-hiatus", because it doesn't mean there's no chance I will post, I might post once or twice over December, and I will actually be constantly writing (its not like when most writers put a story on hold because they've fallen out with it or found something new, I am very much loving writing this story at the moment), I may just be writing bits here and there rather than sitting and demanding to myself to finish a particular Chapter at a particular time. Thank you so much for reading...


SPOILERS:- It may not seem likely after where they are here at the end, but next Chapter is SPUFFY!




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