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A/N: And that would be the end of the "holidays" chapters. I loved it and I think it turned out pretty good, but I'll have to say... Thank God. The holidays are long over and it's time for the story to move on. There's so much more to come and I hope you guys are still loving it. But before we do, here's part 2 of Celebration. I hope you'll enjoy it. Let me know.. Review! :D
CHAPTER 28: Celebration (part 2)
Spike’s happy mood dropped a notch when he noticed Buffy putting her dress back on. He frowned and pouted like a petulant child.
“What the bleedin’ hell do you think you’re doing there, missy?”
“Putting my dress back on.” She stated the obvious, playing innocent.
“I noticed that. But I thought this was going to be a… naked party of some sort.”
“First, YOU put you clothes back on, so I don‘t see why I should be the only one naked at your naked party.” Buffy said in a scolding tone while stalking to where he was sitting on the couch. “Second, I bought this damn dress for you, so I’m gonna wear it, and you’re gonna love it. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Spike grinned at her when she came to sit on his lap, the bottle of champagne in her hand. He took the bottle from her and looked at the label. Perrier Jouet. “Fancy stuff. Especially for a man who’s tasted nothing but artificially flavored juice, instant coffee and water for the past eight months or so. Shouldn’t we keep this for midnight though?”
“Maybe…” Buffy coughed loudly and Spike frowned in concern. “But we risk being interrupted by Giles if we wait too long. It would be a shame to waste it.”
Spike ignored what she said, still concerned about her coughing fit. “You sick, pet?”
She pouted. “Yeah. But don’t worry; I saw the doctor and she gave me some antibiotics. I will be right as rain before you know it. Until then, you can gargle with the champagne, the alcohol will kill the bacteria. Wouldn’t want you to get sick too now would we?” She joked lightly.
“It was a rough couple of days.” She added softly. “I was upset and didn’t get much sleep. That’s probably why I got sick in the first place. But I’ll be fine now.”
He smiled at her, deciding to drop the subject. Their time together was always numbered and he didn’t want to waste it by going back on what happened. Seeing Buffy just looking at the bottle in her hands, he finally rolled his eyes and took it from her.
“Give me that. I can’t believe you’re scared of the big bad bottle of champagne.”
“Hey! I’m not scared of it. It’s just--things like that can turn into mighty dangerous weapons in my hands. I’d probably send the cork flying all over the room, it would bounce off a wall and come back to hit me in the eye. I love my eyes and don’t want anything to happen to them, that’s all.”
“Love your eyes too, kitten.” He kissed her on the nose and she blushed prettily.
In one swift motion, he had the bottle opened with a soft ‘pop’ and without spilling any of the precious bubbles. He poured the expensive treat into the two plastic glasses she had brought with her, and handed her one.
“Wow.” She said, clearly amazed. She frowned pensively. “You know you’re a complete mystery?”
“How’s that?”
“Well…” She drawled, not sure how to explain it.
“Come on, hit me with it. I open a bottle of champagne and you tell me I’m a mystery. That ought to make a man curious. So what brought this on?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that… you opened the bottle like an expert…”
“And the fact that I didn’t waste half the bottle by spilling it on the floor is a bad thing?”
“No. It just reminded me that I don’t know much about your past. Sure, you told me about how you ended here, but I mean, before that. I don’t know anything. What your life was like, how you ended up in California in the first place… that kind of stuff.”
Spike looked pensive for a moment, looking down at the glass he was holding. He finally took a deep breath. “And you got all that from the way I opened the bottle?”
“Yeah. It seemed natural. As if you’d opened bottles of champagne all your life.”
“Well, my dad was rich and he loved to impress his rich friends. So we always had champagne around the house.”
“Tell me more.” She asked, eager to find out everything she could about him.
“Why don’t we toast first, pet?”
She lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Is this your way of avoiding?”
“No. It’s my way of saying that this champagne is very tempting, and I’d also like to taste that delicious food you brought with you some time soon. So let’s toast, sit on the floor around the coffee table to eat, and then we can talk.” His eyes brightened with something close to lust when he spotted one of the food containers. “Are those chicken wings?”
Buffy chuckled. “Yes. And they’re spicy too.”
He licked his lips in anticipation.
She sighed exaggeratedly. “I just found out it IS possible to be jealous of chicken wings. Who would have known? If only you’d look at me like that…”
“Oi! I do so. It’s just that, these are the main course, and you’re the dessert. I’ll go back to looking at you with hunger when I’m done with the wings. Promise.”
They laughed and Buffy raised her glass. “Here’s to true love found when we least expected it and we both thought it would never happen, hopes of finding a way to overcome the obstacles lurking in front of us, and a new year that just HAS to be much better than the one we just left behind because there is no way it can be worst. Oh… and to chicken wings. Cheers.”
“Amen to that, pet. Cheers!”
Not taking their eyes off each other, they drank from their glasses.
“Is THAT Christmas pudding?” Spike asked excitedly before getting off the couch to go sit on the floor on the other side of the small table.
Buffy giggled at his childlike behavior and went to sit in front of him. “So that was a good idea then? I wasn’t sure.”
“Are you bloody kidding me? That’s a brilliant idea, pet!”
“The lady who owns the bakery close to my house is British. I talked to her this morning and when I told her my boyfriend was British and I wanted something special for him, she said that Christmas pudding is a big holiday tradition in the UK. She didn’t have any left for sale but she had some that she makes for her friends and family and since she likes me, she gave me one. If it’s as good as her croissants, it must be pretty amazing.”
He dug in the chicken wings and eagerly shoved one in his waiting mouth. “She said the truth. It is a big holiday tradition in England. But that’s not why I’m so happy. My grandmum used to make the best Christmas pudding in all the country. Nana would cook such an incredible feast for Christmas eve or New Year’s eve that I would make sure not to eat all day to make room for all the food she’d make. She was great. An old, wise and loving angel. She had white hair down to her waist that she’d always pull up into a complicated knot, smelled like candies, had a warm smile and sparkling blue eyes.”
“Is that where you get your eyes from?”
“We looked a lot alike, yeah.”
“What happened to her?” Buffy asked while helping herself to a generous portion of green curry chicken.
The only restaurant she had found that was open on New Year’s Eve was a Thai restaurant, but it was all good because Spike had already told her not too long ago that he loved Thai food. Then she had stopped at a pizza place to buy tons of chicken wings, another of Spike’s weaknesses. So they had green curry chicken, beef satay, coconut steamed rice and chicken wings. Enough food to feed an army, but at the rate Spike was shoving the food down his throat, it wouldn‘t be a problem at all.
“She died of cancer when I was eight. My life sucked after that because she was the only person in my family who gave a damn about me.”
Buffy looked up at him. “Don’t say that. I’m sure it’s not true. What about your mom and your dad?” She had such a loving relationship with her own mother that it was hard for her to believe that a mother could not love her own child. But the sadness in Spike’s eyes told her otherwise.
He snickered. “My mother left dad and I two years after nana‘s death. The day of my tenth birthday. The woman never loved me.”
“Spike. You are her son. How could she not love you?”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t her idea of the perfect son. My parents, Ethan and Cecily, both had flamboyant personalities. They were wealthy socialites and they always had something exciting going on in their lives. I can see why I wouldn’t be the kind of child they had dreamed of. I was a shy, romantic, introverted boy who would spend entire afternoon reading books or writing poetry under a tree at the far end of the estate. I was lonely but it didn’t bother me. The only kids my age I would hang out with were my parent’s friends’ children. And they always had a great time torturing me and making fun of my poetry. My parents had nothing else to say about it but that I should toughen up and stop embarrassing them. Mum--God bless her--once told one of her friends that she was ashamed to say I was her son. I overheard and never forgot those words. So you see, I doubt she had that much trouble leaving me behind.”
Buffy couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Did you… love her?”
The chuckle he let out was devoid of any of humor. “With all my foolish young heart. Which made it even harder. The bloody bint never even mentioned my name in the note she left my dad that day. She said she wasn’t happy with her life, she needed to find herself, and that was it. Two years later, I got a postcard from her. I remember because it was a week after my birthday. It didn’t say anything about me, didn’t say that she missed me, that she apologized, that she loved me, not even a mention of my birthday. All it said was that she was doing well and that she had met someone and that Brazil was fabulous. Never heard from her again.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up, Spike.” Buffy whispered, playing with her chicken. She had lost her appetite.
“Don’t be. You were right; you should know these things about my past. Besides, it doesn’t hurt all that much anymore. I’m more angry than hurt.”
“What did your dad and you do after that?”
“My dad decided that we should move to the promised land. The bloody United States of bloody America. He wanted to do business here. We didn't have any trouble moving here because his parents were Americans so he had double citizenship and so do I. I learned to love it here--though I’m not so sure anymore--but at first, I hated it. The moving from one city to the other probably didn’t help any. I think we lived in ten different places in five years. New York, Boston, Chicago, Seattle, Houston, Louisiana and finally, L.A. That’s where I drew the line. I told him I was going to finish high school and go to university there. He said fine, and left. I think he was glad to be rid of me. He always blamed me for my mom’s departure. So he sent money to pay for my expenses, but that was the only contact I had with him.”
A little voice in her head was telling her to shut up because the conversation was so emotional for him and she didn’t want to make it worst, but Buffy couldn’t help her curiosity. “Clem told me that…”
“He died?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, he did. Last time I heard from the bloody bastard was after I got arrested. I called him and he told me I was a disgrace to his name. Never heard his voice again. Two months later, just after I arrived here, I was told that he had been shot. Probably someone he owed money to who was tired of waiting for him to pay back. He left me all his money, which was absolutely nothing compared to the fortune we had when I was younger, but it’s still a bit of money. Clem is taking care of it for me.”
“Geez, way to bring the mood down with my stupid questions, huh? But I’m glad you told me all that. Sure, I could have chosen a better time to ask, but I want to know everything about you.”
He leaned over the table to give her a quick, chicken wing flavored, kiss. “Don’t worry about the mood, pet. Nothing could ruin this night. But since we’re into dark, depressing topics, you’ll have to share something too.”
“I guess that’s fair.” She served them a refill of champagne and then told him the story about her mom’s cancer.
“Well, pet, I can honestly say that this story contributed nicely to our little moping session.”
Buffy gave him her warmest smile, despite the seriousness of the conversation. “Oh no, don’t think it’s a sad story. I mean, yes, these were very hard days for our family. But some positive came out of it in the end.”
“Really? How so?” He asks, genuinely curious how she could turn her mother’s cancer into something positive.
“Well, for one thing, I will never take my mom for granted again. I now cherish every single moment I spend with her. Every second in her company is precious to me. If it hadn't happened, I would still think that mom would always be there. Also, before the whole thing happened, Dawn and I were the very picture of sibling rivalry. We loved each other, but we were arguing non stop. We still bicker, but it’s all in good fun and we grew closer because we had to rely on each other. I love that little brat and would give my life to protect her. That’s something I didn’t have before and I’m grateful for it.”
Spike was looking at her with undisguised admiration. Every reason he had to love her had been multiplied by a hundred after what she’d just told him. How could he not find the good in what had happened to him, when this woman sitting in front of him could find it in the darkest moment of her own life?
“You are so courageous, Buffy. I wish I could have your strength. Sure, you brought some light into my life, but when I’m not with you, it’s dark everywhere I look. ”
“Spike, don’t give up hope. I don’t think I’m strong enough to hope for both of us.”
“Hope for what, luv? It’s not like I have a future you know.”
He cut two portions of the Christmas pudding and served them in the little plastic plates she had brought. Buffy looked away to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes at his statement.
“Why can’t you hope? Don’t you have any faith in me? Do you think I’ll just sit back and watch you suffer in this goddamn hellhole? You know what I did when I woke up this morning and realized it was the last day of the old year? I promised myself that next year, we’d be celebrating New Year together, at home, surrounded by friends and family. I’ll cook all day and pray that it will be edible, you’ll help me by cleaning up the house and doing grocery runs for whatever I forgot to buy, you’ll complain about the tie I’ll make you wear saying that it makes you look like a pansy. Your friend Clem will come, and my mom and Dawn, and…”
With every word she said, Spike’s expression darkened. His jaw was clenched and he closed his eyes until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to stop her.
“Stop! Please, stop, Buffy. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
His words were hard, efficiently snapping her out of her little fantasy.
“W-what?..” She asked, confused by his outburst.
“Can’t you see? You put all those ideas in my head and make me believe. You dangle something I can never have in front of my eyes, but just out of reach.”
He stood up abruptly and started pacing. When he stopped to look at her, his face was angry, but his eyes were glistening with tears.
“What is this? Why are you saying these things to me? Do you really believe what you’re saying, or are you just cruel? I don’t get it! What are you thinking?! Do you have any soddin’ idea how much it hurts? Do you know how much I want all this? I dream about this every fucking night, Buffy. Every night. I want it all, but I won’t have it. I. WILL. DIE. HERE.” He spat the last words as if it were poison burning his tongue.
He was breathing hard, his chest constricted by the pain her words had awoken in him. It was always there, and the images she’d brought up reopened a wound he had been careful not to touch. But his anger came to a screeching halt, and his pain took a backseat to hers when he realized she was sobbing with her face in her hands. Her small body shaking from the force of her tears. She was mumbling something that he couldn’t hear.
Realizing what he had done, Spike rushed to her side and gathered her into his arms. “Oh God, Buffy…”
“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, Spike. Please… so sorry.” She hiccupped, hiding her face against his chest, her hands clinging to his shirt. “I didn’t want to make you hurt, I swear. I just thought--I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”
“Buffy! Stop. Come on, pet. Stop crying, you’re gonna make me cry too. Please, kitten, look at me.” He took her face between his hands to force her to look at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, not you. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m a right bloody wanker for doing this to you. No matter how I feel, I should have had some control instead of going off like that. I know you meant well.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted… to give you hope.” Her voice was so low that he could barely hear what she said.
“Buffy, it‘s OK, pet. Don‘t cry. Hey--It‘s OK.”
She tried to look down, but he stopped her. “No. Look at me. What you’ve done for me tonight, it’s amazing. I had no right to act like this and ruin it. No one has ever done something like this for me, Buffy. No one. I can’t begin to tell you what it means to me that you’d go through all this trouble for me. And there I am, ruining it by being a selfish bastard. Don’t cry because of me, please.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hid her face against his shoulder, holding him to her. “I don’t want us to fight, Spike.” Her words were muffled by his shoulder.
“So let’s not.”
He held in his arms for the longest time, just caressing her hair and not saying anything. Then, he reluctantly pushed her away.
Her eyes searched his face for answers, wondering why he wasn’t holding her anymore. But he only smiled.
“The clock on that wall says its thirty seconds to midnight. I thought you’d want to know that.”
Her mouth opened in realization. “Oh! I almost forgot!”
They watched in silence as the seconds ticked by, then, when it hit midnight, their lips met in a heated kiss.
“Happy New Year, Buffy.” Spike said when they broke apart.
“Happy New Year, Spike. I love you.”
“I love you too… and I’m sorry for being such a buggering wanker earlier.”
“And I’m sorry for being such a buggering insensitive idiot earlier… whatever buggering means.”
They kissed again, lost in each other. This time, Buffy was the one to break the passionate lip lock. “Should we eat dessert, or keep making out?”
“Can’t we do both?”
She smiled. “I don’t see why not.”
Spike pulled her on his lap and started feeding her Christmas pudding, alternating between bites and kisses. That’s how Giles found them a couple of minutes later.
His already somber expression got worst when he realized something. “You didn’t lock the bloody door!”
Buffy paled. “Oh God! I forgot…”
“So much for being careful, Buffy.” Giles snapped at her. “But that’s the least of our worries right now.”
Both Buffy and Spike stood up at once.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Turns out, the excuse I used to get you here wasn’t as unjustified as I thought it was. A riot started in the cafeteria ten minutes ago. We contained it, but Devon got hurt. He’s in a bad shape and I’m not sure he’ll make it. He was rushed to the hospital. Jake was with him and he’s really shaken.”
“Shit. Anybody else was hurt?” She asked while readjusting her clothes.
“A few prisoners, but nothing too serious. You’d better come with me. We’ll drop Spike by the infirmary on the way.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where he’s supposed to be right now. That was the excuse I used to buy him time with you. Let’s go.”
Giles put the handcuffs back on Spike’s wrists and the two blondes followed him out of the office.
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