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*A.N: This chapter is my baby…it’s my favorite of all. I have to thank my beta of course, and the writers of Buffy, because this chapter would not be what it is without the words way below…please review and let me know what you want to happen.*

Chapter Ten: Amends

The silence filled the apartment, upon her waking up. Her head was still feeling the hangover, but she quickly gathered her surroundings, and headed for the shower. This time, she knocked before entering. It was obvious that Spike had left for work hours before, avoiding her.

It was New Years Eve, and for some reason it didn’t feel like it. Another year had gone by, and Buffy could only feel the waste.

She reached the mirror, and studied her reflection carefully. Her eyes were puffy from spending the night crying, and her skin pale. “I can’t do this…” She whispered aloud to herself, and turned on the water.

As she stepped under the hot spray, memories of the past few months that she’d been on her own flashed through her mind. She had to get out of there, but where would she go? Willow was expecting her back in Sunnydale in two weeks, and her mother had no idea she was returning. Apart from a few postcards, Buffy made it a habit to avoid actual conversation. It just seemed easier that way.

Joyce’s letters were also, void of feeling, and avoiding of all things involving Angel. No one knew of the annulment, which was still processing. Buffy felt it was better to keep under wraps for the time being.

Tears of her failure, in love, in life, even, filled her mind. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, she missed Angel. The warmth of his arms around her, the way he kissed her, the few times that he made love to her…but that wasn’t love.

Being so close to Spike the day before, she had never felt anything like it. A surge of lust, maybe even love filled her. Heat rose in her belly, and her heart raced at the thought of him. It was love.

*

She sat on the couch, most of the day, waiting for him to come home. She wore black jeans with a black tank top and a sheer white top over. Her hair was up in a messy bun, strands of blonde hair escaping. Dick Clark kept her company, as she waited for the bleached blonde to walk through the door.

By the time the clock was on twelve, she was already asleep. The sound of the door slamming awoke her at two in the morning.

“Spike?” She questioned, squinting into the darkness.

There was a high-pitched giggle, and Spike’s deep laugh. The light flickered on and an obviously drunk blonde duo, that included Spike were standing before the couch, kissing.

“What are you doing?” Buffy asked.

“Is that your wife or something?” The blonde asked with a giggle.

“Do you really think I’d bring you back here with my wife home?” Spike asked.

“I hope not…because there will be no threesomes, unless it’s guy, guy, girl, or Charlize Therone.” She replied.

“Sorry to wake you, Betty…Happy New Year!” Spike said with a sloppy smile. He knew it hurt her, but didn’t care. He was hurt, too. “This is Harmony…I was thinking you should either insolate your walls, or head out for the night, because no one in this apartment is sleeping.” He turned to the girl at his side, and kissed her passionately.

Tears stung Buffy’s eyes at the sight, and she stood abruptly. “I’ll get out of your way. She went to the hall closet, struggling to put on her black boots, and finding her suede tan jacket. Without a hat, gloves, or a scarf, she headed out into the cold.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked down Lexington Avenue, people from parties passing her by. She cried silently as she walked, ignoring the fact that she couldn’t feel her fingers.

*

“Oh, Blondie Bear…I love that you take control like that.” Harmony said, kissing Spike’s neck.

Spike stiffened, as his beer fogged mind began comprehending what he’d just done. He rudely kicked Buffy out of the apartment, and let her go out with a thin jacket.

Why was he suddenly worried about how she went outside? She could catch a cold. His mind was inflicted.

“Let’s get these jackets off, and head to the bedroom.” Harmony said, looking up at him.

His hands were suddenly gripping her arms hard, pushing her away from him. “You have to go.” Spike said.

“What? But I thought you were going to show me all of those nasty things you whispered in my ear.” Harmony whined.

“Sorry…” He pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face, before going to look for Buffy’s things.

He ran down Lexington, looking for her. Every blonde that was coming back from the ball dropping in Times Square caught his eye, but he didn’t hesitate running up to each woman to be sure.

Than he spotted her, five blocks down, waiting for the light to change. “Buffy!” He called out, and her head whipped around to look at him.

She turned back, and began jogging away. “Stay away from my, Spike!” She yelled back.

“I sent that bint home…please Buffy, it’s bloody freezing out here. You’re going to catch pneumonia.” He caught up to her, grabbing her arm, her stuff bundled under his free arm.

She turned to face him, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Why?”

He took a breath, and began putting her hat and coat on. “Because, Buffy…I love you.”

“You can’t.” She whispered, looking up into his eyes, as he wrapped her scarf around her neck.

“I’m sorry, luv, but I can’t help it. You’re all I bloody think about, dream about. I’m drowning in you Summers, drowning.” His hands went to her hips.

“Why?”

“The way you laugh, the way you cry,” his hand went up to her cheek, wiping away a tear, “the way your eyes always turn colors when you’re angry. I love how I can come home from work after having the shittiest day, and you just make it all go away. And when I kiss you, I feel like I’m falling into a black hole. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine and done things I’d prefer you didn’t. I don’t exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn’t exactly rush in the direction of my brain so I make a lot of mistakes. A lot of wrong bloody calls. Twenty-five years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of. You. Hey, look at me. I’m not asking you for anything. When I say I love you, it’s not because I want you, or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are a hell of a woman. You’re the one, Buffy.”

“I don’t want to be the one.” Her voice rasped, as she looked up at him.

“I don’t want to be this good-looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear.” He said, and she smiled. “I won’t let you go.”

The clouds suddenly opened, and snow fell over them. “Can we go home now?” She asked softly.

“Of course we can, luv.” He replied, putting his arm around her shoulder, and walking beside her, leading her home.





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