Chapter 15 – Emotions
“Buffy!” Spike yelled, walking into her house, slamming the door behind him.
“Buffy, are you here?”
Buffy came racing down the stairs, concerned that Spike was even there.
“You’re supposed to be in Los Angeles,” she said as he pulled her to him
for a crushing hug. “What’s wrong?” Buffy waited for a moment before
asking again when Spike didn’t say anything. “Spike, what’s going on?”
“There’s a problem,” he muttered quietly.
“Wh-what kind of problem?”
Spike pulled out the pictures, handing them over to her. Buffy took the
photographs and flipped through them, her expression finally turning to a
look of horror when she got to the last few. “How…who?”
“Drusilla.”
Buffy’s face paled as she looked up at Spike. “What’s she going to do?”
“Well, if she doesn’t get what she wants, she’s threatening to send them to
the schoolboard and have you suspended.”
“What does she want?” Buffy asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
“Me,” Spike said simply.
“No,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “I won’t let you. I can’t let you do
that for something like this.”
“Buffy, this is your career.”
“You think that matters to me? I don’t want it if I have to lose you.”
“It’s not just that, luv. What about your reputation?”
“I don’t care!” she cried.
“I do,” he said quietly.
Buffy felt numb as shock seemed to settle into every muscle of her body.
“You’re going back to her.”
Spike didn’t answer, knowing she wasn’t asking.
“You bastard,” she whispered, shaking her head as she backed away, toward the
stairs. “This whole time…this whole time you were never planning on
staying. You were just using me for a little break from your normal life.”
“Buffy, of course I was planning on staying. I just can’t let these
pictures destroy everything you’ve tried to make of yourself.”
“No…why let that happen when you do such a damn fine job of it yourself?”
“Buffy-“
“Don’t,” she replied, turning and running up the stairs.
Spike clenched his jaw before following her, walking to the end of the
hallway, turning the doorknob of their bedroom. Locked.
“Buffy,” he called, knocking on the door.
“Just go,” Buffy cried as she buried her face in a pillow, letting her
tears fall freely. She should have known that it would never last. That it
was too good to be true. It always was.
“Buffy, open the soddin’ door before I break it down.”
“No!”
Buffy jumped when the sound of wood splintering filled the room. She sat up
straight, staring in shock as the door swung open, pieces of wood flying
away from the frame. Spike angrily stepped through the doorway as he made his way toward her bed, pulling her up by her arms and brutally crushing his lips to hers.
Pulling away after a moment, Spike looked deep into her eyes, trying to make
her understand what he was going through. “I love you.”
“Then don’t do this,” she whispered. “All I want is you…I don’t care about
anything else.”
“I’ll just move back for a little while,” he said softly. “I’ll find the
negatives and then I’ll come home.”
Buffy felt her heart breaking as she shook her head. “And you don’t think
she’s thought of that little possibility? She’s not going to just leave
them out in the open for you to find and destroy.”
“Buffy-“
“I’m not doing this again, Spike. I’m not going to be the other woman. If
you leave, then I can’t be with you.”
“I’m doing this for you!”
“No, you’re not!” Buffy yelled back. “You’re doing this for you! Just like
you’ve done everything else! Just admit it, Spike…you don’t want me. I’m
not the long-haul girl, I’m just the little plaything on the side.”
Spike’s hold on her arms tightened as she spoke. “Do you honestly believe
that?” he asked in a deceivingly quiet voice.
‘No,’ Buffy thought. ‘I really don’t.’
“Does it matter what I think?” she asked. “Does it matter what I want?”
“It won’t take long,” he whispered, brushing his lips over her forehead.
“I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“And you think that’s not what she’s planning? To get you to move back into
that house? Into her bed?”
“I won’t.”
“But how will you stop her, Spike?” Buffy asked sarcastically. “After all,
if you moved back in with a woman you wanted to divorce, then obviously the
next logical step is to sleep with her, since she is your wife, after all.”
“How can you accuse me of that?”
“Because that was my life!” Buffy yelled. “That was my life for more than
half a year and that’s why I fucking left you!” She broke down in sobs,
nearly crumpling to the floor as Spike caught her. “I can’t live like that
again,” she whispered as Spike sat down on the bed with her on his lap,
pulling her closer to him. “I felt like it was killing me when you had to
leave me, and now you’re telling me that you’re doing it again. I told you I
couldn’t live like that, Spike, and I meant it…I meant it,” she repeated as she sobbed into his chest.
Spike felt his body tense with hatred toward his wife. The woman he loved
was sobbing in his arms, and he only had two options- neither of which looked
very appealing.
“I won’t do anything with her, Buffy. I promise.”
“What if it was me, Spike?” she asked softly.
“What, luv?”
“If I wanted to save your career by going to live with another man…another
man who I had a relationship with…how would you feel?”
Buffy didn’t need an answer, she could feel Spike’s muscles tense when she
mentioned it.
“I’ll go talk to her tomorrow.”
“Talk?” she whispered, her voice full of hope.
Spike gently brushed his lips against hers. “Talk,” he reaffirmed. “That’s
all…I promise.”
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she
held on. “Thank you,” she whispered.
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