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“What’s wrong?”

Spike shrugged and turned back to the movie they were half-watching. Him being the half that watched while she watched him instead. “Nothing.”

A lie. Buffy wished she could believe this was like her birthday party, that he was was just hiding a surprise. She couldn’t. He’d been acting strangely for days. He’d been distant at first, then moody. The only time he’d really looked at her all week was in bed, and he’d actually left her at his place and gone to work early the night she’d slept over.“Please, William.”

“Prefer Spike and you know it. You can’t just make me into a different man. I told you straight up who I was.”

Whoa. Where is this coming from? “I don’t want a different man.” Were Spike’s insecurities rearing their gross little heads again? She’d thought they were past that.

He didn’t even glance at her. “Great. Let’s watch the movie then.”

“Spike!”

He sighed and turned toward her. “Do you want to watch something else?”

“No. I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me what is going on with you, with us.”

He stared at her for a moment. Emotions swirled in his eyes, but they were gone before he spoke again. “Fine,” he said flatly. “You want to do this now?”

“What?” She pushed her hands between her knees to hide their trembling.

“I think it’s pretty obvious this thing has run its course.”

“What thing? Spike, what are you---”

“Let’s not make it hard. It was fun while it lasted, no reason to ruin the memories with a bit o’ ugliness now. Right?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t process his words. He couldn’t mean it. Surely he would explain himself any moment and she’d feel silly for thinking...no, she couldn’t even think it. No. He loved her. She knew that. She’d seen it, felt it. “You don’t mean this.”

He sighed. “Suppose this is your first break up too. Look kiddo, it happens. Doesn’t mean anything about you. You’re great. It just doesn’t always work out.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down her cheeks.

Spike stood and walked across the room. “I’m sorry, love. Honest. I never wanted to...when I said I loved you, I meant it. I loved you, and I still want...I want you to have good things, to be happy. You’re an amazing girl and I’ll always care about you, but it’s time for us both to move on.”

“I don’t think--”

“I do, Buffy. I do. And it takes two people to be in a relationship. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” Buffy stood slowly. No. Every cell in her body screamed in protest, but she walked to the door.

“Do you want a ride?”

“I have my car?”

“But if you’re too upset to drive. I could--”

“I’m not.”

“Oh. Good, that’s good. I’m glad.”

She didn’t know what to say. Buffy opened the door and glanced back at him one final time. He was unreadable...blank, but still the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. How could this be happening? What did I do wrong?

“I’ll see you around, love.”

Buffy nodded then left, stunned. She drove nearly two blocks before it all hit her, the pain and the panic and the fear. How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to keep...being?. I’ll never get to kiss Spike again. When was the last time we kissed? She couldn’t remember their last kiss. It was the last one and she didn’t remember it. It was too much. Her eyes couldn’t see through the tears. She pulled the car alongside the curb and wept.



****************



Spike rested his forehead against the cool porcelain of the tub’s edge. He’d done the right thing. He’d hurt the girl, but it was the right thing. It was better this way.

A fresh wave of nausea brought up whatever was left of his breakfast and he turned back to the toilet to heave.

He’d never forget the look she’d given him before leaving. She’d trusted him. She’d loved him...and he had to--he had to do it. It would be so much worse if he waited. We could have had babies. Babies that smelled sweet and had her cute little nose. How could he say goodbye to those babies, to the future they could have had? It didn’t matter. He had to do it. Nothing could be worse than her hating him for ruining her life.

He loved her. Dear god, he loved her so much. He’d never thought anyone could love someone the way he loved her. He’d never realized love like that existed until he saw it in her eyes.

He had to let her go.

It was the right thing to do.

She’d made him a better man, but he still couldn’t be the man she deserved.



********************************************************************



Spike wiped his hands against his jeans a second time before opening the front door of the gallery Joyce Summers managed. He was two steps in when he saw her.

She didn’t smile. “You know, William, sometimes it seems like you have even less experience with dating than Buffy. Generally, after a break-up, the guy avoids the girl’s mother.”

“Right. Yeah.” He nodded and turned to leave.

Joyce sighed loudly. “Come have a seat. I’m going to make some tea.”

Spike slumped in the chair in front of Joyce’s stylish little desk. What was he even doing here? She was right. This was not how things were done. He hadn’t given this enough thought. It was an impulse, in instinctual reflex or something.

She placed a mug of tea in front of him, took her seat and waited.

“How...is she alright?” He couldn’t look at her while asking, but he had to ask.

“You broke her heart, William.”

He glanced up, startled by her bluntness. Still, she looked tired more than anything else. He deserved to see her glaring. “Yeah.”

“Why are you here?”

“Just wanted to know that she’s...that she’d be okay.”

Joyce stared at him for a moment. “She’s hurting. It’ll get better in time. I--I’ve tried to stay out of my daughter’s romantic life, so I don’t know what happened between you two. Frankly, my impression is Buffy doesn’t either and you don’t exactly seem like a man who is not in love with my daughter. If you did something you regret...if--”

Spike pulled a small velvet-covered box from his pocket, opened it and placed it on the desk. “We can pretend like the age thing isn’t important. But it is, right? I do that…” He nodded toward the ring. “And I’m asking too much. Stealing away years she’s not meant to be tied down.Years she should be studying and partying and whatever girls like her do.”

“Oh William.” Her eyes were wide with shock and something that might have been pity. “You didn’t ask?”

“Nah. I mean you can’t marry a girl who’s too young to have champagne at the reception, right? ‘Cept I forgot about that for a bit. Dreamt up a nice little picture in my head.”

“I can’t pretend that I don’t think Buffy’s too young to getting married, but...that doesn’t mean you couldn’t keep dating.”

“Maybe if I wasn’t such a selfish git. But it would just be a matter of time...and not much of it-- before I got caught up in a weak moment and pulled that bauble out. Almost did already...twice.”

“I see.”

“I want it, her, too much. I love her, Joyce. I love her more than anything. I can’t hold her back. Can’t live with her hating me for it.”

“And so you broke up with her.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t seem like the best--”

“You can’t tell her.”

“I won’t, but William…” Joyce sighed. “I won’t tell her.”



*********



Buffy pulled three mixing bowls from the cabinet and placed them on the counter, before turning to rummage through the pantry. The oven beeped to indicate that it had reached 350 degrees just as she emerged. She dumped her findings, sprinkles, cake flour, brown sugar, and an extra- fancy bottle of vanilla extract, on the counter. “Kiddo,” she muttered aloud. That one really ticked her off.

For the first few weeks she’d alternated between despair and denial. She’d just hit on a good solid mad for the first time and she was going to ride the wave. She was mad at Spike. She was mad at herself. She was mad at the whole, bloody world. She was especially furious that the word “bloody” had made its way into her internal thoughts.

“It’s like he literally messed with my head.” She yanked open the fridge and started pulling out milk, butter, eggs...her hand landed on the heavy cream and she froze. Cream scones. Spike’s favorite. Pain stabbed her chest.

She left the cream on the shelf and grabbed a block of cream cheese instead. Her arms full, she closed the fridge door with a knock of her hip, and brought the things to the growing pile on the counter.

“Sweetie? What are you doing?” Joyce tugged the sides of her robe across her chest and tied the belt.

“Baking cookies.”

“It’s two in the morning, honey. Why don’t we--”

“I’m a catch, mom. I know that sounds conceited and maybe it is, but it’s true. I’m a nice person, I think about other people’s feelings, and I’m an excellent cook. I’m an excellent cook.”

Buffy’s mom nodded. “Yes. You are.”

“I’m making cookies.”

“Okay, hun.” Joyce walked over to the pantry and plucked her apron from the hook. “You know I picked up some dried cranberries yesterday. They could be amazing with--”

“Orange zest.” Buffy grabbed an orange off the top of the fruit bowl and held it up. “Cranberry-orange cookies.”

“Cream cheese frosting?” Joyce asked.

“You’re a genius. See you’re a catch too, mom. Men are idiots. How did I never notice that?” She scooped two cups of flour out of the cannister and dumped them into one of the larger bowls as she looked up at her mom.

Joyce’s eyes widened. “Am I meant to answer that?”

The fire in her gut cooled. “I don’t mean dad. I’m sorry.”

Joyce chuckled. “Buffy, your father made plenty of bone-headed choices. He wasn’t a saint. He wasn’t perfect. He was just…” She sighed. “He was just perfect for me.”

“Do you still miss him?”

“I do.” Joyce pulled out the grater and handed to Buffy.

“I do too.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“I miss Spike too. Which is dumb, right? Because I’m so mad at him. How can I still miss him?” She rubbed the orange over the grater so the bits of zest fell into the bowl with the flour.

“It’s not really an either/or situation when it comes to love.”

“I should stop loving him though, right? That’s what’s supposed to happen?” She glanced at Joyce before tapping the grater against the side of the bowl. “Sugar.” She gestured for the canister.

Joyce passed the sugar. “Love doesn’t have an on/off switch. Your feelings are what they are. Time will--”

“Help? Yeah. Cordy has said that about two dozen times. What if it doesn’t? What if I’m stuck feeling like this,” she gestured toward her stomach with the mixing cup scattering a fine spray of granulated sugar, “forever? What if I’m frozen feeling like I want to punch him in the nose and then beg him to tell what went wrong so that I can fix it?” Because not knowing why makes it so much harder. Because I’d have done anything for him. I’d have done anything to make him happy, to make him love me. I’d have done anything and he couldn’t be bothered to tell what that anything was.

“I don’t think that will happen.” Joyce held her hands up, palms out in surrender. “But if it does, we’ll buy a bakery...an all-night bakery.”

Buffy tried to hold on to her anger, it was so much better than despair, but a chuckle broke through anyway.

“You know, sweetie, I prefer to stay out of your lovelife.”

“And that’s just one of the things I love about you, mom.”

Joyce laughed softly. “But, I am going to say that you could try talking to him. It’s been a month. Meet for coffee. Maybe you can get some of the answers you’re looking for.”

“No. I can’t.” Buffy shook her head. “I really can’t see him.” Seeing what I lost, what I had and can’t have anymore...even the thought hurts too much.


Chapter End Notes:
I know. That was rough. They have some issues they need to work out.



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