Spike woke and reached for his girl. Nothing. He frowned as his eyes adjusted to the bright daylight filling the room. “Buffy?” He’d fallen asleep with her in his arms and expected to wake up the same way. They had a lot of lost time to make up for.
“ Buffy?” He sat up and listened for sounds in the bathroom. Nothing. “Love?” A glance at the clock told him it was past eleven. Maybe she’d had something planned. But why hadn’t she woken him up for a ride?
Stomach dropping, he stalked out to the front of his flat. A note. Surely there would be a note explaining that she hadn’t wanted to wake him.
No note.
His eyes settled on the key resting on the counter. Buffy had left her key. She’d still had her key to his place, had apparently been carrying it for all these months, but she’d left it behind this morning. Fuck! Spike dashed into the bathroom and yanked open the drawer where he’d kept her stuff. Gone. It was all gone. She’d left her key and taken her fancy lotion and face stuff with her.
She’d left him.
No. She’d come to him last night. She’d initiated.
The realization came hard and without warning. She was saying goodbye. Last night had been her way of saying goodbye.
***************************************************
The sound of her bedroom door opening made Buffy sit up. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and glared toward her unwanted visitor. “Please go away, Mom.”
“Sweetie, are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever ha--”
Joyce was cut off by the sound of someone banging on the door.
Buffy froze.
“Are you expecting--”
“It’s Spike. Please tell him I don’t….I’m not home or...I can’t...I’m not talking to him.”
Joyce frowned. “Okay, hun. But--”
“He broke up with me for my own good. That’s what he said. It was for me.” The gall, the stupid awful...argh. Buffy pulled a pillow to her face and groaned into it.
There was more door banging.
Joyce was still frowning, but she nodded. “Okay.”
She left then and a few seconds later Buffy could hear the muffled sound of voices. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but she could guess easily enough.
Buffy heard the door click shut and exhaled in relief. She couldn’t see him now. Not yet. She had to be stronger first.
Her mother returned a few moments later. “William would very much like to speak with you. I suggested he try back tomorrow.”
Buffy shook her head. “No.”
“Buffy.” Joyce sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”
Sniffling, Buffy shrugged. “I ran into Spike last night.” She reached for her mother as the first body-shaking sob tore through her.
Joyce hugged her tightly. “I see. I’m getting the feeling that did not go well.”
“He said he loves me, that he always loved me, that he broke up with me because he loves me.” She pulled back to see her mother’s face. “How stupid is that?”
“It is certainly not a typical reason.”
“Some guy was talking to me and Spike was there and he got all weird about it and demanded I talk with him. Then he’s telling me he needs me and ...oh and I’m supposed to be in France. He’s...I think he’s mad that I’m not in France, which is also stupid.”
“So William would like for you two to try again?”
“Yeah, but only because he thinks I’m screwing up my life on my own. He thinks I should be dating fancy men in France and since I decided to dance with normal guys at The Bronze instead--”
“You were at a club? How did you even get into a club?”
“That’s not the point. The point is he still doesn’t trust me to make my own choices. How can he claim to love me when he thinks that I’m some...dumb little girl?”
Joyce pulled her back into an embrace. “Oh honey, I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”
“If he didn’t think that, he would have believed me when I told him that I didn’t want anyone else.”
“I’m not sure it’s as simple as that.”
“It is. It has to be.”
******************************************************
“I’m sorry, William. Buffy has made it very clear that she is not interested in talking to you.”
His chest hurt. What would happen if he had a heart attack right here on the porch? “Please, Joyce. I think if I could just explain. If I--”
She gave him a little smile, reached over, and squeezed his shoulder. “Try giving her a little time.”
Spike exhaled slowly. He could do that. He could let her cool off and then he could come back and beg...on his knees. “Right. Right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I was thinking more like a week.”
A week! No. He’d already let them both hurt for far too long. He couldn’t fix that by doing nothing. “I’ll be here tomorrow.”
Joyce’s lips twitched. “Then I suppose I will see you tomorrow.”
“You’ll give her these flowers?” He held out a bouquet of dark purple flowers.
She nodded as she took them from his shaky hands.“I’ll try.”
“Thank you, Joyce. I---I’m sorry.”
********************************************************
“Well Buffy, it would seem that William has moved on from flowers. Since we’ve run out of empty vases, I’d say he has good timing. He left this for you.” Joyce placed a red box with a pink ribbon on the top on the kitchen counter.”
Buffy winced. “I’m sorry you have to keep telling him I won’t talk to him. I’m sure he’ll stop--”
“Actually, he didn’t ask to talk with you today.”
“He didn’t want to talk to me?”
“He didn’t ask.”
“Oh.” The pain in her chest was just surprise. Right? She couldn’t even convince herself.
“He just left the gift.”
“Oh. Well, that’s ...good. I’m glad he’s not bothering you as much.”
“William doesn’t bother me.”
“But he--”
Joyce held her hands up, palms out in surrender. “I’m not saying that what he did was okay, I’m just saying he isn’t a bad man and he is, clearly, still in love with you. I...feel for him.”
Was it still in love with her? Maybe. Probably. Yes. Buffy wasn’t sure it mattered.
“Well, I for one am curious. Will you open it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I doubt he’s giving you anything that bites, Buffy. Take a look.”
It would hurt. No matter what was in the box, seeing it was going to hurt. If it was silly or careless, it would hurt to know he’d thought of it for her. If it was perfect, sweet and romantic, she’d only miss him more. There was no winning. Buffy braced herself and lifted the lid. Brow furrowed, she lifted out an old walkman-style tape player. “Umm?”
“It plays cassettes.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “I know what it is, Mom. I don’t know why he’d…” She flipped it open and looked at the tape inside. “It’s a mixtape. He made me a mixtape.” She ran her fingertip over the handwritten title, Songs for the Girl with the Smile Like Sunshine.
“That’s...sweet?”
It was more than sweet. It was heartbreaking. “I told him once that it was what guys did. Girls bake cookies to win guys over and guys make mixtapes to...win girls over. I was just being silly. It was before we were even together really.”
He’d been listening. He remembered that silly comment from before they’d ever even dated.
“I think you should give it listen. Maybe hear him out too.”
“What could he possibly say?”
“I don’t know, hun. Maybe he can’t change your mind. That’s fine. That’s up to you two. I just think that, if you talk to him, you’d have a chance for closure. Then you can move on. Start actually dating other people.”
Buffy’s eyes stung with the tears she was trying to hold back. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”
Joyce chuckled gently as she wrapped her arm around Buffy’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Maybe that’s something to think about too.”
“You think I’m wrong. That I’m over-reacting.”
“No. I think it’s complicated. You have to decide if what he did is forgivable.”
“Not trusting me? ”
“Not trusting himself. You do see that, sweetie. Right? The boy has some baggage. Most of us do.”
*****************************************************
The third song was Van Morrison’s Crazy Love. It was the song that played the first time they made love. Her first time.
Should it remind her of precious he’d made her feel, of how safe and loved and sexy she had felt in his arms that night? Or should all of that just drive home how much he’d hurt her by betraying the trust she’d had in him when he’d left her with no explanation at all?
Ughh! She was mad and sad and...vaguely turned on. Buffy bounced off her bed, slid on a pair of flip flops and snatched up her purse. Fine. She’d go and hear him out...or maybe just chew him out. Whichever, it was time it happened.
****************************************************
“Buffy?” Spike stood in his front door and stared at her. “You’re here.”
“I’m mad at you.”
He nodded and stepped back. “Yeah. I know. You coming in?”
“No.” She moved into the living room despite her response. “I am so, so mad at you. Every time I think about it, you, I can’t even see. It’s like a cloud of ugly anger fills my whole world.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate feeling like this.”
“I was an idiot. I am an idiot. I never deserved you, but I--”
“No! That’s the problem. You’re amazing and you’re an idiot for not seeing that. And you’re an idiot for treating me like an idiot. I didn’t want to go to France. If I’d wanted to go, I’d have gone. It would have been a rough few months, but we’d have survived. I didn’t want to go. You ruined us over a semester in France that I didn’t even want to take.”
Well, she was talking to him. That was something. He sat down, hoping she’d follow, and spoke in a quiet voice. “France was just a part of it. It was just the first in what I was sure was a lifetime of things and opportunities that you’d miss because of me. Because I’d wanted you to settle down too quickly. If I held you back, you’d hate me or maybe just I’d hate myself.”
She sighed as she sat down beside him. “I wouldn’t have married you.”
Pain he’d never expected stopped his heart.
“I mean not right away. I want to finish school first. I...would have wanted to wait until next year at least.”
“Right. Right. I--”
“You should have trusted me.”
“I know.”
“Why couldn’t you?” She’d lost the steam she’d come in with. Now she just seemed tired.
“I just couldn’t see past my own shit, Buffy. I was so sure, and I loved you. I thought…”
“You thought you were doing the right thing.”
“I did.”
“You were wrong.”
“I--”
“But I can try to understand--your heart was in the right place.”
“You can?” The little flame of hope in his gut did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.
“I can.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I don’t know. We still...you can’t think of me as this doll that needs to be protected all the time.”
“I can work on that.”
“Really?” She sounded skeptical.
“I can tell you right now that I’m pretty damn pissed with you too, kitten.”
“The France thing?”
“No. The fucking me and disappearing thing. Finding your key like that…” He shook his head. “That was cold, love. We were supposed to talk in the morning.”
Her cheeks reddened slightly. “I needed to be strong and didn’t think I could do that if I was looking at you.”
Spike couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Want me bad still, huh?”
“Ha ha.” She leaned closer and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “Seeing you the other night. I was hurt and angry, but I still just wanted to make you feel better. Seeing you hurting was...unbearable.”
She still loves me. She must still love me. The ache in his chest eased ever so slightly. He couldn’t get his hopes up, but...that had to mean something. “I get that. I mean just the thought of you hurting you had me crazy.”
“I’ve thought a lot about what went wrong with us, since the other night and before.”
“Me, kitten. I screwed up. I know.”.
“No.” She laughed softly. “I mean yes. Big time. But not just you. You rescued me, that night with Rick. You swooped in like some sexy motorcycle-riding knight and you saved me. And I think maybe we both let that be too big a part of our relationship afterward. I was a little intimidated by you or maybe overwhelmed is a better word. The thing is I let you be the boss of us in a lot of ways. You thinking that it was your job to make decisions for both of us...that’s a little bit my fault too. You were more experienced and--fine, older--and there were things that it made sense to let you take the lead on, but it shouldn’t have been everything. I--we should have been more equal.”
“More equal sounds about right. Hard, though. I look at you and I still see…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.
“A little girl,” she offered.
“A goddess.”
She snorted. “That’s better I guess, but still way too hard to live up to.”
He fought back his instinct to argue and tell her that she was perfection, to vow to worship her on his knees if she’d just love him again. Carefully, half-certain she’d pull away, Spike covered her hand with his own.
She flipped her hand so their palms met and their fingers intertwined.
Spike stared at their hands for a while. God, she had such pretty hands. Time to put it all on the table. He couldn’t look at her while he asked. He could barely get the words out. “Do you still love me?”
“I do.” Her response came without hesitation, firmly and simply.
Spike exhaled a quick puff of the air he’d been holding in. Relief was a physical thing, every muscle relaxed as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on his hands, her hand still snugly enveloped within his. “Oh, kitten. That is good to hear.”
“You had to know.”
“You didn’t say. Not once while we--you never said it.”
“I couldn’t see a path forward.”
He lifted his head and turned toward her, almost too nervous to ask. “And now?”
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