Spike moved through the forest surrounding his house, and down a main road to the populated area of town. He passed houses with lights out, little homes with televisions flickering through thin curtains, a couple of parties going lively but quietly at two residences. It was peaceful and crisp, the moon shining brightly through gray wispy clouds in the night sky. The sounds of dry tree leaves rustling played a timeless sound throughout the quiet.
Tranquil surroundings, and one infuriated vamp.
Quite a combo. Spike's soundless stride but volatile mood was noxious enough to scare a rabbit more than twenty feet away. The laughter from a group of teenagers died when he walked passed, and the vicious warning of a dog bark sounded when he neared the animal's gate.
He was headed to Leonard's Place, and he had to get there before closing. He wasn't sure if his hunch was right or not, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head told him it was. The waitress at the diner was Buffy.
The description was accurate. The nose, the eyes, the hair. Everything. That little something special Dylan mentioned... It didn't matter her name was Elizabeth, maybe it was her real name and Buffy was a nick. Or perhaps it was her middle name. God knew why she didn't just write "Buffy" on that nametag.
Spike had been thinking about her near incessantly for the past two days, and today as well. A full seventy-two hours now of not seeing her and then his friends come back from an errand to tell him about HIS girl. To tell him she'd taken a job. To describe her to him; how she was unique and cute with a smile that drew you in, as if he didn't already know those things. As if she wasn't important to him, as if he didn't know who she was. As if he didn't care.
As if Blake had any right to hit on her.
It was a good thing Spike left the house before he'd lost it.
He spotted the diner about a block ahead of him and moved faster.
Why was she waitressing? He knew how she felt around crowds. How was she dealing with this? Had her grandmother forced her to find a job? Spike doubted that. Buffy held her Grams in high regard and obviously loved her very much, just as Spike believed the old woman cared for her granddaughter the same.
Maybe Buffy had decided to get one to try and meet the people in town, though Spike didn't think so; she loved being at the library, alone. She couldn't have gotten a job there, of course, the owner never hired anyone. He mostly took care of the place himself with help from family. But Buffy didn't need a job, did she? She'd said that the money she had from the insurance was enough to live well for a while. Did she lie? Or was she just ready to start saving up more for herself, starting now. Was her grandmother having issues paying the bills?
Spike had no idea, and the only way to find out was to ask her.
Of course, his temper wasn't exactly anything anyone would want to be around right now.
He was pointlessly angry, he knew, but angry all the same.
Buffy was a waitress, Spike was almost positive she was HATING it, and he hadn't seen her in three bloody days. Hadn't hugged her, kissed her. They hadn't bloody talked. They hadn't met at the library, their place. One of his friends had fucking HIT on her- Which Spike knew he didn't even have a right to be mad about (though he rebelled against such logic), and he fucking missed her worse than he could stand it.
So storming into the diner and startling the few customers inside, then scanning the whole place like a panther on the hunt was naturally what happened when he finally reached Leonard's door.
><
Green eyes snapped up from the task of cleaning the countertop. She knew it was him before she saw him. At the first resounding clash when he practically jumped inside the diner, at the heavy door banging closed. When the remaining customers all paused to watch the bleached blonde in leather.
Buffy literally felt her eyes bulge, almost to the point of pain, but she couldn't close them. Spike was here, and in a split second she realized just how much she'd missed him. After this long day, the bad sleep the last couple nights, not knowing what the hell he was doing or if he was rethinking his decision to stick around, be near her, those kisses. She was overly relieved and wanted to go straight to him, but caution prevented her.
What was that rule? Don't make any sudden movements around a wild animal... Yeah, something told Buffy to follow that instruction right about now.
He was pissed. It was all over his face, and when those smoldering blue eyes locked onto hers, she actually felt like a firefly snared in a fist.
She didn't blink as he approached. The man looked her up and down, nostrils flaring. If it wasn't ludicrous, she might've actually thought he was sniffing her- But that was nuts.
She wanted to hug him. She wanted to run.
"Spike."
He smiled with closed lips, a cajoling almost mocking smile. "Kitchen still open?"
She blinked finally, a few times in rapid succession. Was the kitchen still open? "Yeah, for almost an hour," she responded, giving him a peculiar look.
Spike smirked, though it wasn't teasing or friendly. It was close to a sneer, actually. What was wrong with him?
He sat down on a stool and clasped his hands together. "Didn't know you worked here..." he looked her over again, eyes lingering on the place where a nametag was pinned. "Elizabeth."
Her cheeks flushed, she hadn't a clue, but the look he gave her made her feel guilty. She had no idea why, but it did, and so she went back to wiping off the counter. "I just started today. And Elizabeth's my 'proper' name, Buffy's just a nickname," she explained. Tucking a strand of blonde behind one ear, she asked, "Do you wanna order something, Spike?"
Looking into his eyes again, they were even less welcoming than they had been before. Jeez, why was he so upset? Buffy had no idea what was running through his head but did have a suspicious feeling that it involved her, unfortunately.
Spike clenched his jaw. "Ya never told me that, pet."
"Never told you what?"
"Your real name."
"Oh." She looked down and sighed. "Buffy is my real name," she said, "It was what people called me in San Francisco. I only started using Elizabeth again when I got here." She turned around and plucked up the coffeepot. "I'm about to do refills, want a cup?"
"Not really."
She frowned. "Fine. I'll be back in a sec."
As she walked away, Buffy sensed his eyes on her the whole time. She could practically feel tingles where his stare roamed over her in waves. She didn't let her ankles wobble, and tried focusing on the pain in the soles of her feet.
When she got back to the counter, having walked around to the few occupied tables and refilled people's mugs, Spike couldn't hold his tongue for very long. "Never said you were gonna take a job here, pet."
"So?" She asked, getting irritated when his eyes flashed primitively. She would have told him about her plan to start waitressing if she'd SEEN him, but he'd been MIA for the past three days.
Buffy looked up at the clock. Yep. Three full days, an entire seventy-two hours now. Fifteen minutes past, actually.
"Thought you liked talkin to me."
She hated the way he'd purred that sentence, both charm and demand at the same time. "When you're around."
For a moment his face looked repentant, but only for an instant because the next, Buffy spoke again. "But it's not like this whole waitressing thing is a big deal. I might not have mentioned it to you anyway," she lied.
His jaw clenched, and Spike huffed in aggravation. "S'that so? Well excuse me for wantin to know what's goin on with you."
Her eyes widened. "You don't HAVE to know, Spike." God, this man could get her temper going like nobody else. Her anger was getting the better of her and the worries from the past couple of days were fighting to the fore. Buffy tried not to sound forlorn when she added, "Especially when you're not around."
Spike sighed through his nose and growled stubbornly. "You should have told me."
"You weren't here to be told!" After her shout Buffy quickly looked around in alarm. Two customers glanced her way and she caught Leonard's curious expression from the kitchen. She smiled at him reassuringly and took a breath.
Turning back to Spike, not understanding what he wasn't getting, she whispered, "Spike, you come in here acting like I owe you an explanation, and you know what, I don't." Her brow puckered with anger and frustration. "You don't have a right to know about every single decision I make and everything I do." Buffy's voice shook a little, and a small part inside of her rebelled against her own words.
His eyes flared and then narrowed. She just did not realize the things going through him right now, how close his demon was to the surface, how much frustration was boiling away, how angry he was that she was right. He felt like he couldn't hold on to her, and it was true and he was terrified. "Never said ya did, love," Spike grit out.
"Well you sure acted like it," she said, with an exasperated arm wave that couldn't be stopped.
Spike's jaw clenched again and he closed his eyes for a second, acting like he might be counting to ten before speaking. Though when he finally did, his didn't sound the least bit calmer. "You meet someone here earlier tonight?"
The question was so abruptly different from their conversation that Buffy frowned, her face confused and her anger dimming just enough to feel guilt. The words she'd cast around a second ago were hurtful and yet true. But she liked telling Spike things, she just didn't like the way he was acting.
A little angry at herself, and not very happy with him either, Buffy answered the question. "A lot of people, unfortunately."
He continued to stare at her, studying her face. She felt a bit self conscious, knowing that her hair must be a ratty ponytailed mess, her eyes tired, and her makeup completely gone. "Happen to remember a bloke, obnoxious sort who talks too much?" he asked.
She frowned, wondering what in the world Spike was getting at. "Maybe," she said, not sure how much she wanted him to know in light of the fact that he seemed mad at her for reasons Buffy deemed unfair. He hadn't even bothered to offer an actual hello yet, just came barging in and acting grumpy.
"Name of Blake," he added.
She hummed in affirmation, "Yeah. I did meet him. Friend of yours?" She raised her eyebrows in both question and challenge.
He didn't like it. The way she was answering, so simple, no details, deliberately holding back from him. "Sometimes," Spike replied. "You two talk for very long?"
"What does it matter?"
"You tell him your nickname?"
"What's with the third degree here, Spike?"
He didn't answer, just bore into her with those intense blue eyes. His lips were pursed tight with impatience and anger. She had no idea what to do with this man, so Buffy decided then, to ignore him.
She went to leave, and the proverbial steam almost shot out of her ears when he reached over the counter and grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?!" She growled.
His nostrils flared, and in that instant she realized what his biggest problem was... or at least part of it. Blake, his friend, must have mentioned something about her, and Spike...
Jealousy. Oh what a strange emotion. How could he be jealous of comments his friend (sometimes friend?) had made about her? The fact the guy had simply talked to her? Flirted yeah, but nothing more. Surely he hadn't made it seem like she'd flirted back-
Oh. Maybe that was it.
Abruptly, a somewhat giddy- and unwelcome -emotion ran through her, threatening a blush. Buffy's stomach turned warm. She shouldn't feel this way over Spike's jealousy, she should be annoyed by its irrationality. Besides, the two of them weren't dating.
But that's what made it even better, wasn't it? They weren't a couple, and so he felt his place in her life was threatened by some random Casanova? It was ridiculous, but far from insulting... Well, actually, Spike thinking that she was so fickle as to just drop him like a hat and ignore what they had, and her feelings for him, because a random guy came around flirting was maddening. Spike should know that she wasn't that type of person. They'd shared too much, held a connection between them that still managed to throw her at times. She felt like she knew him more and more every second she spent with him.
Yet here HE was, all bully-ish and with the questions.
Buffy sighed, still staring into those gorgeous blue eyes and awaiting an answer as to why he'd grabbed her arm. A reply that might not come. Perhaps Blake said something to anger him, maybe he'd painted Elizabeth to be a total skank, or worse.
Or maybe he hadn't and Spike was just being heartthrobing-ly, infuriatingly, and unwarrantedly jealous.
"Spike," she said, her voice quiet and just a little breathless from the tingle on her skin where his fingers were, "how'd you know I was Elizabeth?"
He swallowed, and Buffy saw the throat muscles move enticingly beneath his skin. "The way he described you. What he-... What he said."
"What did he say?"
Spike looked into her eyes, those hazel green depths he adored, and he loosened his hand on her arm. He hadn't been gripping hard enough to hurt her, simply stay her. "Green eyes, beautiful smile, blonde ponytail, short..."
Buffy ignored that last part but gathered from what Spike was telling her, that this friend of his hadn't said she'd been flirty or responded to his advances. If Blake had, it would have been the first thing Spike told her in response to her last question.
Relief warred with aggravation. Unless something else had crawled up Spike's butt, then he was jealous for absolutely no reason and worrying about the fact she hadn't told him she'd started waitressing (which had only started TODAY, by the way) because of this jealousy.
They both knew his reaction to her new job was ridiculous, and Buffy was getting tired of having to defend herself. Her feelings were mixed, with warm girly flattery that annoyed her in one hand, and true bitterness in the other. All she knew was that someone had come into the diner, mentioned her to Spike, and then the man-of-questions had flown in acting resentful and demanding; as if she'd done something wrong by not including him in the development of a stupid new job. *Of all things, I am a waitress for God's sake!*
She pulled free of his grasp and sent over a glare. "Your friend was a hell of a lot more pleasant than you're being right now, Spike."
That made his eyes narrow once again, dangerous cerulean slits that sparkled with anger. "S'that so? Guess his practiced charm managed to get past your defenses then, eh love?"
She took a step back from him, irritation pulsing through every vein and making her voice tight. "Not in the slightest, Spike. But you obviously wouldn't be convinced unless you'd been here yourself."
As she stormed off, he thought privately that he wouldn't have let Blake within five feet of her without kissing her first, in front of the whole bloody diner, but now he couldn't do anything but watch her walk away. Sighing, he clenched his jaw once again and internally called himself all kinds of a fool.
He shouldn't have let it show; his fear, his jealousy, his aggression. He shouldn't have illustrated how hard he was trying to hold on. Being an ass and acting like she owed him anything was the surest way to piss the girl off. If Spike had thought this situation out at all, he could have called her reactions in a heartbeat. Instead he'd acted on unreasonable anger and frustration. Now she was mad- And rightfully so.
Buffy didn't owe him anything, she told him things because she liked to, not because she had to. And he'd acted like a jealous boyfriend whose calls had gone ignored for a week.
Spike's head shot up. Calls...
He tried to catch a glimpse of Buffy in the kitchen, but he only saw the top of her hair as she spoke to an older black man in an apron. She was nodding and the bloke was regarding her warmly. Spike saw them shake hands.
Buffy came back out and as she strode by with weariness and a tiny thread of joy he spotted in her eyes, the Brit wondered if maybe, just maybe, she'd thought about him as much as he'd thought about her over these past three aggravating days.
She'd mentioned him not being around. She was angry about that, which explained even more so why his attitude had bothered her- Asides from the fact that he'd been accusatory on no grounds.
Buffy had missed him.
And now she was pissed at him.
"I'm leaving in a few minutes," she declared, untying her apron and setting it on a shelf beneath the counter.
Spike frowned. "Doesn't the place close at twelve?"
"Leonard's letting me off early." She sighed, renewed irritation evident in her expression as she looked at him again. "Bye, Spike. Next time you wanna stop by and act like a jerk, give me a heads up."
She was gone before he could reply.
><
Buffy hurried to the back of the diner where that tiny little closest of a changing room was. Leonard gave her the night off a bit early because she'd done so well, and he was very kind to her, even offered a burger and a coke on the house.
She'd said no. She really just wanted to get out of here, and while she was happy that her new boss was nice and she'd done well today, Buffy was anxious to get away from a certain bleached Brit.
His obvious frustration and doubt bothered her more than she liked to admit. All she wanted was to get away from him for a little while, and because she couldn't ask him to apologize- and she certainly wasn't going to -distance was much preferred right now. Spike probably didn't even get why she was snappy with him, Buffy bet.
She knew he could be an ass sometimes, but with all the work she'd done today she wasn't willing to deal with it. Normally, she would spell it out for Spike, tell him why and how he was acting like a jerk, but tonight? Buffy just wanted to go home and try and get a sound night's rest. And attempt not to think about Spike and this altercation too much.
Evidently, she wasn't going to get what she wished for.
"Spike!"
She was just taking off her yellow button up when the door was yanked open and he came in. Buffy pressed her crumpled shirt against her chest to cover up and glared in shock and infuriation. How in the world had he slipped past the people in the kitchen? "What the hell are you-"
He shushed her.
It only made her more indignant. "Don't you shush me-"
He put a hand over her loud protest and said, "I'm sorry."
The statement threw her, and Buffy stared with wide eyes at the man in leather. He apologized. She wasn't sure if she should feel relieved, or focus on ways of kicking his ass.
As it was, his hand was still covering her mouth so she couldn't even talk right now.
Spike glanced down at her torso, wishing immediately that he hadn't. Christ but the chit was changing. He'd walked in on her changing. This was just bloody great.
"I was a berk." *Am a berk,* he inwardly corrected, staring intently at her eyes as he forced himself to ignore her barely covered chest. "I shouldn't a acted... I was unfair. You're... right. You don't owe me anything, and I shouldn't a acted like you did. I know ya did nothin wrong, s'just..." He pursed his lips. Buffy didn't know how hard this apology was for him. He hadn't said sorry to anyone in years. A lot of years.
Yet he was willing to spew it all out and admit his grievances in a split moment for this girl.
The girl who really did know just how hard it was for him. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the tension simmering beneath his skin. Elizabeth's irate emotions puddled into gratitude and warmth. Her eyebrows drew together as she studied him, not sure how quickly it would be okay to forgive her guy, but seeing the sincerity in him as clearly as one could spot the moonlight on a crystal pond.
She didn't have time to mentally wig or analyze the possessive term she'd just put over Spike in her head. HER guy? Since when did- Oh wait, he was talking again, and her brain was solely focused on the movements of his lips. Crap.
"I never said hello to ya, did I?" His eyes glinted with bewilderment as a little self-depreciating smile changed his expression. He looked even more apologetic and a bit disappointed in himself.
She narrowed her eyes. An immensely unreasonable burst of irritation ran through her like lava, and she bit him.
"Oi! What was that for?!" He whispered harshly and shook his hand, trying not to let his mind wander to better examples of bitey Buffy.
"For being an ASS!" She yelled with more breath that vocals. Somehow, they'd both mutually decided to be quiet so as not to alert anyone to their location and her voice was that of an enraged cat burglar. "You're right, you never said hello! Or called me kitten or Goldilocks, you just w-went off on a little... tantrum, because of something stupid!"
Spike rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched, and he said, "I was unfair."
"You were jealous!"
H growled low in his throat and took a step closer, distractedly glancing at Buffy's exposed torso. Her hands had moved to her hips and her light blue bra was the only thing covering her up. "I haven't seen you in three bloody days."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Mine," he grumbled, stuffing his hand in his pocket, looking for the napkin he'd written on after she'd gone to the back preparing to leave. "Here," he handed it to her.
"What's this?" Buffy looked at the numbers scribbled down in ink.
"My address, and the only phone number I've got; it's for the house. I don't have a cell phone, no use for the bloody things."
Buffy looked at him in quizzical shock. She was torn between asking him how the hell someone didn't own a cell phone in this day and age, and tearing the napkin to shreds. While a part of her was ready to slip it inside her bag for safekeeping. "Why are you giving me this," she demanded.
Spike looked surprised at her tone, and answered the question with slight wariness. "I thought you'd like it, so you can get hold f'me if you need... somethin, anythin."
She scowled at his shrug. "You mean if I need your shoulder to cry on."
He bit back a sigh. Now she was going to get defensive about this. Couldn't she tell he'd gone practically barmy these past three days? He wasn't giving her this information out of pity. He was giving it to her because he wanted to be on level ground with her, so they could both contact each other when they wanted. Asides from just meeting at the library or him stalking her house.
"I mean if you want to contact me, love."
"Oh," she handed him back the napkin and turned to find her white blouse. "Well, keep it. I don't need it."
Spike frowned. "You don' want it?"
His voice sounded hurt and questioning. Buffy forced back a cringe. She didn't want to take the napkin. He was pitying her and she was still annoyed. She'd missed his dumbass and he couldn't even show one ounce of missage. Only unfair jealousy and pity.
"Buffy."
"What?"
"I want you to have this."
The surprising touch of his hand slipping into one of the back pockets of her jeans had Buffy's breath hitching, and her back straightening like the handle of a stepped on rake. "Wha-What are you doing?" she stuttered.
Spike smirked a little at her shaky voice, tucking the napkin deeply into her pocket and gliding his fingers out slowly. "I want you to be able to get a hold of me." His breath touched her ear when he spoke. "I missed you these last couple f'days."
"You could have gotten a hold of me," she claimed, her voice very quiet. Accusatory stress coated her statement, while her insides hummed at his proximity.
"I only know where you live, love. S'not nice to come over uninvited, though."
Buffy took a silent, deep breath. Spike had missed her. She didn't believe that he was all that worried about politeness in general, however, something in his voice- maybe a hint of humbleness? -made her accept his statement. Maybe she hadn't been the only one going crazy these last three damn days.
God. Only three days, and this is what happened to the both of them.
It was scary, but she turned around anyway. "I would have let you in," she said, her eyes guarded but vulnerable. Her voice luring, yet almost emotionless.
Spike smiled, his gaze travelling over her and tenderness lining every feature of his sculpted face. "Yeah? I'll have to remember that, then."
Buffy sighed softly, the feeling of a weight coming off her shoulders. Looking up into his focused warm eyes and feeling her anger melt away, she was comforted. Lord she'd missed those colors of blue. Sticking her hand into the pocket where he'd put the napkin, Buffy pulled out the barely crumpled white paper. There was a little tension on his face as she examined the numbers, but it dissolved when she turned around again and stuck the napkin in her bag.
She pulled her white blouse out and replaced it with her yellow work shirt. She'd need that tomorrow so she had to bring it home to wash. When she spun around again Buffy became very aware of her state of dress- or lack thereof, really.
She saw Spike's pupils dilate as her eyes rounded and her cheeks flushed. Instead of wasting time asking him to leave before she properly covered herself, Buffy just slipped the white blouse on over her arms and started to button it as fast as possible.
Her breath caught when Spike's fingers brushed hers away, and he took over the job of dressing her. Very slowly.
His fingertips gently slipped tiny buttons through tiny holes, gradually moving upward in a careful dance. His thumbs brushed the small patches of skin revealed every time he moved to another button, travelling between her breasts and raising goose bumps on her flesh.
"You don't have to-... do that," she said, albeit a little belatedly.
He swallowed. "I want to."
It was only a partial lie. What Spike really wanted to do was remove all of her clothing so he could cover her body with his own, but he didn't think it would be such a successful idea to ask.
Fully buttoned and flushing bright red, Buffy only managed a jerky nod when he pulled away reluctantly and said, "All done."
She gathered her things together faster than a fashion model would move to change between catwalks, and turned back around ready to bolt out of the confined space, if only to try and be able to breathe again.
Spike stood in her way.
When he didn't move she raised an eyebrow at him. "Gotta get out the door here."
He smirked a little and her knees literally wobbled, but she blamed that on exhaustion. Leaning in towards her, Buffy didn't pull away from him, her body demanding what it wanted and her brain too foggy to protest. "W-What are you doing?" She asked, even though she knew very damn well what he was doing.
The smirk grew. "Giving you that hello."
Then he was kissing her. Closed lips and smoldering electricity. God, she really had missed him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I got a review asking if I imagine certain places/people when describing things in this story, and some examples were requested. Now, you dont have to see these things as I do, I'm just giving a few personal examples. You can imagine them as however you wish! :)
Leonard's was inspired sorta from the diner in the music video "Meet Virginia" by Train (great song if you wanna look it up!)
When writing Blake I cant help but think of the actor Ian Somerhalder (though i dont see them as identical, imagining that guy really does help me imagine Blake). And The character Stevo was inspired from the character Cam Rohan from Lisa Kleypas romance novels (both Stevo and C.R. are gypsies and have similar appearances). Mostly everything else is just my imagination run wild, but if i add other things which are specifically inspired, ill let you know!
Thanks to everyone reading and keeping up with this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter (SEE END NOTES TOO!).
Leonard's was inspired sorta from the diner in the music video "Meet Virginia" by Train (great song if you wanna look it up!)
When writing Blake I cant help but think of the actor Ian Somerhalder (though i dont see them as identical, imagining that guy really does help me imagine Blake). And The character Stevo was inspired from the character Cam Rohan from Lisa Kleypas romance novels (both Stevo and C.R. are gypsies and have similar appearances). Mostly everything else is just my imagination run wild, but if i add other things which are specifically inspired, ill let you know!
Thanks to everyone reading and keeping up with this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter (SEE END NOTES TOO!).
Chapter End Notes:
So I probably wont be posting again for about 3 or 4 weeks because unfortunately RL stuff kind of sucks and is kicking my butt. However, i promise that i will not leave this story unfinished. And though i dont always, i will still see and reply to reviews if you guys leave them (please do!) *huggles* and happy Easter! :)