The Bronze was not Spike’s favorite after-work haunt, it catered to college kids and people who wouldn’t know the difference between music and crap if it was labeled with a flashing neon sign. Yet, The Bronze was where he found himself, nursing a whiskey and foul mood.
He couldn’t go to the real bar, there were too many people he knew there, too many questions. Everyone had advice and comments. Why couldn’t anyone just let a man drink in peace? Of course, The Bronze was too far from his place to walk, so he couldn’t really drink there. All he could do was nurse a single whiskey, but at least at The Bronze, he could do it in peace.
Or he could until he saw her.
Her.
Buffy was at The Bronze. For the slightest of moments, his heart leapt. He hadn’t laid eyes on her in months. Just being in the same room was a balm on his tattered heart.
Then the panic set in. I should leave. I don’t want to bother her--don’t know what I’d say if she saw me. Is she on a date?
She was dancing with her girlfriends, Anya and the brunette...Cordelia. He took in her skimpy outfit and strappy high heels and went to battle with a wave of jealousy. He gripped the edge of the bar and reminded himself that she wasn’t his anymore. It almost worked. Spike clenched his jaw as a couple of frat-looking types worked their way in between the girls. Buffy’s head tipped back. She was laughing at something Jerk Number One said while Jerk Number Two slid up behind her. She turned and grinned at him, seemingly happy to dance between them. Spike seethed as the two guys moved in closer and Buffy didn’t appear to mind. She had her hands up over her head as she moved her hips enticingly. She said something to Jerk Two then smiled over her shoulder at Jerk One. He should leave. He shouldn’t watch this. Jerk One put his hands on her hips. Spike shot out his chair. Buffy laughed as she brushed the jerk’s hands away and continued dancing. The Jerk tried again a moment later. Slap him. Why aren’t you slapping this arsehole, Kitten? She left the guy’s hands on her hips until the song ended. If the bar wasn’t solid granite, it would have been dust between Spike’s clenched fists. He watched as Buffy said something to Jerk Two and patted Jerk One on his arm before turning to walk away. Flirting? You’re flirting with those jerks? She headed toward hallway with the restrooms. Half-way there she stumbled, but caught herself, holding her hands out to her sides to regain balance. Her heels were high, but Spike had seen her walk in higher ones. No. It was obviously more than that. Buffy was drunk. She giggled before continuing her walk. When Jerk Number One followed, Spike had no choice but to go that way too.
“I’m really just here to dance with my friends.” Buffy’s voice floated out from around the corner.
“Come on, baby. I thought we were having a good time.”
“Yeah, but I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now.” Are her words slurring?.
The jerk chuckled. “No worries. We can keep things casual.”
“I don’t--”
Spike stepped around the corner and glared at the man crowding Buffy against the wall. “The girl isn’t interested, arsehole. Move on.”
“Why don’t you let the lady decide what she’s--”
Spike grabbed the guy by his shirt and yanked him close enough to smell the cheap beer on the jerk’s breath. He spoke in slow, controlled voice. “Walk away before I introduce your ugly face to the pavement outside.” He shoved him back towards the exit and followed Buffy into the ladies room. “Buffy? You alright, love?”
She stood near the last sink, her eyes wide with surprise. “You can’t be in here.”
He inched closer. “I had to check on you.”
“No, you don’t. I’m not yours. You--you didn’t want me to be yours anymore.” She blinked hard and fast as her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “I’m gonna throw up.”
Spike placed his hand on her back and helped her into a stall. He held her hair up and rubbed her back while she emptied her stomach. “There you go. Get it out. You’ll feel better later on.”
When she was done, he guided her back to the sink and wetted a paper towel so she could wipe her face.
“That was gross.”
Spike chuckled. “I’ve seen worse.”
She stared at him for a moment. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”
“I know, kitten.”
“So why are you here?” She sounded exhausted.
“I’m going to take you home.”
“Ah. No.” She shook her head slowly. “I came with my friends, Spike.”
“I’m not leaving you here like this. You’ve been drinking and there are a dozen guys in this place who’d like to take advantage of that.”
Her eyebrows popped up. “You’re not the boss of me. You don’t get to say what I do.”
“I’m not leaving you here. If your friends need a ride too, I’m happy to--”
“Willow isn’t drinking, she’s driving us all back to Cordy’s house for the night. We’re not children, we know how to set up a designated driver.”
He bit back a comment on their apparent planned slumber party. “No, but you are underage and I am willing to make a scene.”
Her face paled. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
****************
Buffy was pissed and sobering quickly. She’d let Spike lead her to his car, sent a text to Willow explaining that she’d left and spent the rest of the ride silently refusing to look at her former beloved. She frowned as they passed the grocery store. “We’re going the wrong way. You should have turned back on Wright.”
“Is your mom expecting you home tonight?”
“No.”
“I’m taking to my place. You can sober up and then we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
Spike ignored her and parked in the lot outside his place a few moments later. He came around, opened her door and offered her his hand.
Buffy stared for a few moments. She’d always liked his hands. His hands were so...capable. They’d made her feel safe and loved. The thought of touching them now made her want to cry. “I can get out on my own, she said quietly.
“Right.” Spike stepped back, waited for her to get out, and closed the door behind her. “Thanks for not vomiting in my car, by the way.”
Buffy glared and took a deep breath before following him upstairs. So he wanted to talk...now. After three and a half months of silence, Spike had decided he needed to talk. Why? She wished she wasn’t curious, that she wasn’t still wondering why he’d ended things so abruptly. It still hurt. People claimed that time helped. Apparently she needed a lot more of it. How was she going to keep it together for their “talk’?
She needed the upper hand. She went in and perched on the edge of the sofa. She rested her hands on her knees and sat up straight. “So talk.”
Spike’s eyes were round. He nodded. “Yeah. How about I make us some coffee first?”
“It was two daiquiris, Spike. I’m fine.”
His expression was skeptical. “You puked from two drinks?”
“No. I was a little tipsy after two drinks.” I threw up because I saw you. She couldn’t say it.
“Well, I need some coffee.” He popped around the island separating the kitchen from the living area and started pulling things from the cabinets. “If you want to freshen up or brush your teeth...your stuff is the drawer.”
Really? Why? She looked over at him, but he kept his back to her. She wanted to refuse the suggestion, but it would be churlish and immature to refuse something she’d very much like to do just to prevent him from being right. Sure enough, her toothbrush and a small basket of other things she’d left at Spike’s place remained in the vanity’s drawer. Buffy washed her face, brushed her teeth and ran her fingers through her hair. So weird. Being in here. Smelling the scent of Spike’s aftershave and shampoo. It was like pine and lemongrass and maybe orange. They were nice scents for a guy, masculine but not musky. They still sent a warm buzz to her stomach. Stupid stomach.
Spike smiled at her as she came back to the couch. “I assume you still take coffee with your sugar.”
Her lips twitched. No. I can’t be charmed. I have to be strong. He basically forced me to come here. He was a jerk. “ You wanted to talk, Spike. So please...just say what you have to say so I can go.”
“How have you been?”
She waited a moment. “Are you serious? You dragged me all the way here to ask me how I’ve been? Bad. Okay, Spike. I was bad and now I’m moving on. I’m--I’m moving on. Or at least I was trying to before you went all neanderthal on that guy and dragged me here.”
“Moving on.”
“Yes! Aren’t I supposed to move on? Isn’t that what big girls do when they’re dumped? Move on?”
“Not like this.”
“Not like what?”
He slammed his mug on the counter and stalked toward her.“You’re supposed to be in France, Buffy. You’re supposed to be meeting nice boys in museums. Boys with brains and bank accounts and breeding and all the rest.”
“What are talking about?”
“I didn’t give you up so you could get drunk and groped at The Bronze.”
“Give me up? What are you even talking about?”
“I did the right thing, Buffy. I didn’t hold you back. I knew you were meant for better things, so I--I let you move on. But you were supposed to go to France. You weren’t supposed to--I wanted better for you, Buffy. I wanted you to be happy.”
Her head reeled. He couldn’t be serious. This was...infuriating. He’d destroyed her. And now he was telling her that he’d done it for her?
“Fuck, Kitten. I always wanted you to be happy.” His eyes were wet. Spike was going to cry.
A part of her wanted to reach out to him, wanted to comfort him. Another part, a big part, was still too shocked to even think. “But I was happy.”
“I was going to ruin it.”
“You did.”
Spike shook his head slowly. “Worse” He walked back to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of scotch off the shelf and poured himself a generous drink. He downed it before heading into the bedroom.
Was he done? Should she leave? Buffy tugged on her skirt, trying to cover more of her thighs. She was dressed for a dark club, not a relationship post-mortem in a brightly lit room.
Spike came out and kneeled in front of her.
She ignored the flame of lust that instantly flared in her core.“How could you have made things worse?”
He laughed, despite the tears glistening in his eyes. “Like this.” He held out a black velvet box. Its lid was flipped up, revealing a shiny diamond engagement ring.
“Is that? Were you?” Her heart stopped. “William?” His given name slipped over her lips in a barely audible whisper.
“If we’d been together any longer, I’d have asked. Every day I promised myself I wouldn’t, but I wanted to. I wanted you to be mine forever.”
“So you broke up with me?” It was unthinkable.
“No. I gave you up. So you’d be free to go to France and meet fancier people and see the whole fucking world. But you’re not. You’re drinking at that skeezy club and dancing with--” He scowled and shook his head. “And I know it’s your choice what you do. You’re young. You should have time to make mistakes and be a stupid kid and I’m a git and a monster for wanting to steal that away. But I need you. Buffy, I need you.” He rested his forehead on her lap.
She ran her hands through his hair once. Twice. Three times. It was darker, more of a sandy blonde than the almost white hair he’d had when they’d been together. He hadn’t bleached it in a while. Why?
He slid closer and wrapped his arms around her calves, hugging her legs to his chest. Hot tears hit her knees. “I need you.”
She’d thought knowing why would help. It didn’t. How could he claim to love her, to want to spend his life with her and dismiss her as a child in the same breath?
“I told you I didn’t want to go to France, that I wanted to work toward my degree. I told you that I didn’t want any other man.” A tear fell over her eyelid and down her cheek as she lifted Spike’s head to see his face. “I had everything I wanted. Why couldn’t you just believe me?”
He shrugged half-heartedly. “I was an idiot, kitten. I was an idiot.”
“Yeah, Maybe. You certainly thought I was one.”
His eyes widened. “No! No. I thought you were too good for me. You’re brilliant. I’ve never not seen that.”
“I’m brilliant, but not clever or mature enough to make my own decisions.”
“Buffy, love, please--”
“No. You decided that I didn’t know what was best for me, that I couldn’t because I’m just a dumb little girl.” Her heart was breaking all over again.
“No. It was never about you not being perfect. It was about me. I couldn’t believe that I was enough.” He buried his face in her lap again.
Buffy leaned over and pressed a kiss against the back of Spike’s head. God, she loved him. Still. He’d broken her heart...again, but somehow that didn’t make her heart any less his. She finally understood what people meant when they said love wasn’t enough. “It doesn’t make sense. You can’t think that I’m perfect but not respect my choices, Spike. That can’t...that doesn’t work.”
She stroked his neck, rested her cheek on his head and let him cry and make sweet promises. He’d broken his own heart too. She couldn’t deny her urge to comfort him. She kissed his temple. “Shh. I’m honestly I’m too tired to talk anymore.”
He looked up. “You can sleep here. Take my bed. I’ll stay on the couch.”
“I don’t...I don’t want to be in your bed.” Too many memories.
He winced as though she’d smacked him. “Right. Right.”
He’d misunderstood, but she wasn’t sure it mattered. “I’m happy on the couch. Just find me a blanket, okay. I’m freezing.”
Spike laughed hoarsely. “Yeah. That get up isn’t big in the fabric department.”
She raised her eyebrow. “You really think this line of commentary is a good idea right now?”
“I’ll..uh...I’ll just fetch you a blanket.”
Buffy took a couple of deep breaths and wiped her cheeks. Maybe in the morning, maybe after a little sleep, she’d be able to handle this. Maybe she’d be able to think clearly and see through the cloud of pain and regret.
Spike returned with a blanket and a pillow. He placed them on the arm of the couch and held up a pale blue button-down shirt. “This is...well, in case you wanted something to sleep in.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll just leave it here.”
Buffy nodded.
“Did you need anything else, kitten?”
Did she need anything? Yes. God yes. A thousand things swept through her mind. She needed him. She needed him to take away the pain, to give her back the piece of her heart he still carried. She needed him to believe in her, to believe in himself, and to believe in their future together. “No. I’m just really tired.”
“We’ll talk more in the morning.” He leaned in as though to kiss her, but straightened up without doing so. “If you need anything, just…” Spike gestured toward his room and stared at her for a few seconds before leaving. He turned on the lamp near the couch and flipped the overhead lights off as he went.
Quietly, just before he closed the bedroom door, he said the best and worst thing. “I love you.”
*********************************
Spike lay awake for a long time, but he was sleeping when she came into his bedroom. He woke as she climbed into his bed.
“Kitten?” He reached for her, half-certain he was only dreaming. “What are you--”
She pressed two fingers to his lips and straddled his thighs. The neon light from the pool hall across the street cut the darkness with a faint red glow. Her shape was clear, but her expression was still a mystery. Had she forgiven him? Was she back? Is she mine again? She pulled her shirt, his shirt that she was wearing, off over her head and leaned in to kiss away his gasp.
Yes. Oh yes. Spike wrapped one arm around her waist and clutched the back of her head with his other, hugging her closer and reveling in the feel of her warm body against his. The scent of her shampoo, something tropical and sweet like coconut or papaya, tickled his nose and made him hard. God, Buffy. He didn’t have the words to explain how much he’d missed her, but this...this he could do. He could show her the heat between them, the connection they’d felt from the start, was still there. He tried to roll to the side, eager to lay her on her back and kiss his way from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes, but she stopped him.
“No,” she whispered. Buffy guided his arms up and placed his hands on the pillow above his head. “I’m doing this.”
She kissed him fiercely then stroked his cheek. Her hands slid down his chest. Spike groaned. No touching her? He needed his hands on her. He needed to feel her smooth skin beneath his fingertips to believe this was real. How could he worship her without his hands?
Fuck. Her mouth was hot and soft on his neck. So hot. Her teeth tugged his nipple then her tongue soothed the small ache.
“Kitten, love, I need to touch you.”
She covered his mouth with her own as her hand slipped beneath his shorts to free his erection and drag her hand up and down his shaft. Spike couldn’t bite back his moan. She used to be shy about touching him, almost too gentle. She wasn’t anymore. Buffy grasped his cock like she owned the damned thing. Of course she did. He’d give her everything if she’d agree to be his forever.
“Condom”
It was an order. Spike pulled open the drawer on the bedside table and felt around for a foil square. Oh god, please. He exhaled audibly when he found one. It had been months since he’d even thought about needing a condom.
Buffy plucked it from his hand as he removed it from the drawer. She tightened her knees against his hips to steady herself while she opened it.
Spike ghosted his palms up her sides and cupped her breasts while she was distracted. She arched, pressing herself more fully into his hands, as she trembled.
“With your mouth.” She slid up his body and leaned in, bringing her breasts to his lips.
Her hand cupped his cheek while he teased and licked one hard peak then the other. “Mmmm...so sweet, my kitten.”
She pulled away, dropping a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before sitting up.
Clearly his kitten was set on running things. And quickly. He’d rather be taking his time reacquainting himself with every inch of her sexy, little body. He’d rather be tasting her pleasure while she writhed and shuddered beneath his tongue. He’d rather be in charge, but he’d wait. He wouldn’t do anything to scare her away. He couldn’t face another night without her. Not now, not after having her in his arms again. He wasn’t a brave enough man to face the world without her again.
She caressed his cock for a moment before sliding on the condom. Spike let his head fall back and closed his eyes as frustration flooded every cell of his body. His breath hitched as she sank down, enveloping him in her heat. Relief, the sensation of being home, it was almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. He gripped her hips tightly and pushed up, connecting their bodies as fully as he could. Fuck. Hold it together. It was almost too good. “Fuck. Kitten, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”
She rubbed her cheek against his. “I’m here now.”
Her hands settled on his, their fingers intertwining before she started moving.
She found a slow, steady rhythm, but it had been so long. The heat surrounding him, the joy at being with her again, was too good. Too perfect. “I won’t last. Missed you too much. Every day..every minute. God... I love you, Buffy.”
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