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Thank you everyone for your reviews and support of this story!! I realize that I kind of made Wesley out to be the bad guy, which I didn't want to do because he's really not. I know that makes it harder for Spuffy, but don't worry!! Just what I envision for Wesley is for him not to be the bad guyYou'll see. Don't worry, this is Spuffy.

Chapter Seven

Buffy stared at the empty space that Spike had been occupying just a second before in complete shock, utter disbelief and anger so intense she was shaking.

"Buffy? I heard shouting. Is everything—where's Spike?" It
was Wesley.

All it took was one look at Wesley's concerned expression
and she was reaffirmed of the fact that Spike had no clue
what he was talking about and he quite possibly could be—
dare she even think it—jealous.

"He left," she said simply.

"I'm guessing by the shouting I heard it wasn't on good
terms."

She shook her head.

"What happened?"

"He didn't like what I had to say."

Wesley frowned a little and rubbed an imaginary beard. "I'm
guessing from the past that you two share and the amount of
time spent apart without being able to communicate,
whatever you two do have to say to each other isn't all
pleasant."

Buffy blinked. "You're absolutely right. Could you go tell him
that?" She pointed to the door.

Wesley smiled softly, "I don't think he wants to hear from
me." He looked at her sheepishly, "I wasn't very uh, very
welcoming."

Buffy nodded, giving him an understanding smile. "I know."

"I will try. For you."

"You might not have to. I don't know that we'll be seeing
each other again."

"Did you ask him to leave or did he leave of his own accord?"

"I asked him to leave."

"Oh. That bad?"

Buffy sighed. "I. . . I just don't know Wes."

"Need a hug?"

She nodded, pouting. He opened his arms to her and met her
halfway. She stepped into his very welcoming and warm—
not cold—arms and snuggled into him, burying her face in his
chest.

"Buffy, you know that I love you and that any reservations I
had about Spike only has to do with the fact that he was
your first love and you have such history with him with all
that happened between you. Now, I know how you feel
about most of it, what you'll share with me anyway because
you're not exactly an open book. I realize that I probably
haven't been exactly the most supportive when it comes to
you and Spike talking, but again, that's my own fear and
jealousy of losing you—"

Buffy's head popped up and she gazed at him, "you won't
lose me."

Wes smiled gently. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. "Be
that as it may, I do realize that in order for you to be able to
come to terms with what happened to you in the past with
Spike, you do need Spike in order for you to do that. Now, if
the argument you had here has ended that healing process
for you, and you feel you can move on and put an end to that
chapter, then good for you. However, if you feel that it's not
enough, I must tell you—against what my jealousy dictates—
that maybe you should make amends and try to work through
this setback. It's been my experience with issues of the past
that oftentimes things are said that are not meant and are
meant only to hurt because the other person is hurting as
well."

"How did you become so wise?" She asked quietly, resting
her head against him once more.

"You've taught me many things, Buffy."

"Do you think it's wrong of me to not believe in fairy tales the
way I used to?" She asked in a tiny voice.

"Is that what he said?"

For some reason Buffy didn't want Wesley to know all that
Spike had said. "In so many words," she shrugged.

"Fairy tales as in happy endings?"

She nodded.

"Well," he sighed heavily. "It all depends. If you don't believe
that you are capable of having a happy ending, then yes, I do
believe it's wrong."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

He smiled faintly at her and tucked a stray hair behind her
ear. "Because, my darling, you are meant for a happy ending.
I won't let you not have one."

She smiled up at him. "You're so good to me."

"Living one's life in the clouds and being dictated by fairy
tales without using any reason at all? I don't think that's a bad
thing to not want to live by. You can't make decisions on
feeling alone. Somewhere, reason has to come into play."

"I totally agree."

"Do you want me to send everyone home?"

Buffy giggled. "No. I'll come back out. Thank you."

"For?"

"Just being you."





Spike had been so angry with Buffy, he was sure that he
wasn't going to see her again. That he was just going to walk
away and leave L.A., find some place else to go. But when
he had started packing his bags and felt tears start to drop
from his eyes, he realized that it wasn't the answer. Things
weren't over for them; far from it.

He sat down on his hotel bed and put his face in his hands.
She was right, that's what irked him the most. On the other
hand though, so was he. Both of them were looking for
answers and for someone to blame things on. He hadn't
realized that he'd been doing it until Buffy had expressed
what she blamed him for. Hadn't he just blamed her for being
too afraid of her parents? Hadn't he blamed her for not being
strong enough to stick up for him? For possibly not loving him
enough to fight for him?

Sighing, Spike lay back on the bed, listening to it creak as he
stared up at the yellowed ceiling. How was he any better? She had found a place to fit, she had escaped her tyrannical
parents and found herself a good man that obviously cared a great deal for her. He wasn't the cold at all. If he were, he
wouldn't have been so protective of Buffy. She was seeing
a therapist for Christ's sake. She was trying to make peace
with her past and with herself to be able to lead a happy,
normal life. And what did he do? He just shit on all of that.
Why? Because she'd been honest about her feelings. Hell,
that wasn't being afraid; that took guts. The old Buffy
Summers wouldn't have ever been honest with him, she just
went along with what he said and followed him blindly, all the
while believing that he had all the answers. It was what he
had led her to believe, because he knew how devoted she
was to him and how she looked to him to lead her. If he was
honest, with himself and with her, that power she gave him
was like a drug and he didn't want to admit that he'd been
wrong too. He wasn't going to let this end yet. He couldn't.



Spike breezed into the club, praying he hadn't missed Buffy. He'd stayed away from her for a week, giving them both time and space. He figured it was time to get his act somewhat together and found himself a job, finally. It was a step in the
right direction until he had a firm handle on what he wanted
to do. He knew he couldn't leave Buffy just yet, not until
they'd made peace

The unmistakable sound of the band playing inside let him
know that he hadn't missed her yet. He braced himself for the
words that would spew forth from her music. She had quite
a way with her words. She left herself open and bare with
her lyrics and it intrigued him as well as frightened him.

Setting himself in a corner where she couldn't see him just
yet, Spike waited, wondering what nuggets she would leave
for him tonight in her song.


You'll rescue me right?
In the exact same way they never did
I'll be happy right?
When your healing powers kick in

You'll complete me right?
Then my life can finally begin
I'll be worthy right?
Only when you realize the gem I am

But this won't work now the way it once did
And I won't keep it up even though I would love to
Once I know who I'm not then I'll know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was defenseless
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends

This ring will help me yet as will you knight in shining armor
This pill will help me yet as will these boys gone through like water

But this won't work as well as the way it once did
Cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
And though I know who I'm not I still don't know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down when I was a kid
And parting with them is like parting with a childhood best friend

I've spent so long firmly looking outside me
I've spent so much time living in survival mode

This won't work now the way it once did
Cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
Now I know who I'm not
I still don't know who I am
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim

These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was defenseless
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends


These precious illusions in my head did not let me down
When I was a kid
And parting with them is like parting with childhood best friends

Spike had to tip his hat to her. She was definitely a champion at sticking it to him. Now he just had to find a way to talk to her and apologize for being so hard on her and for obviously not completely understanding what she was trying to tell him at the barbeque.

He watched the band leave the stage and he noticed Wesley lingering at the stage door, no doubt waiting for Buffy to emerge. Taking a deep breath, Spike worked up his courage and strode over.

Wesley looked surprised to see him. He remained expressionless as Spike approached.

"Hi," Spike said quietly.

"Hi."

"Buffy back there?"

"She is. Where've you been?"

Now Spike was surprised. "Figured you'd be happy I hadn't
come around."

Wesley smiled, which confused Spike further. "The caveman
in me was happy. The part that loves Buffy wants her to find
her peace with you. I realize she needs you to do that. She
does too. As much as she hates to admit it, even to herself."

Spike nodded. "I know. I need her to do that too. Is she. . . is
she still mad at me?"

"Why don't you go back there and find out for yourself?"

Spike smiled gratefully at the man, feeling even more like a
horse's ass than before. Wes wasn't such a bad guy at all.
And really, could he blame him for being so cold in the
beginning? If it were Wes that had blown into town and
stirred up Buffy's life with all the history, wouldn't Spike feel
threatened as well? Of course he would, who was he
kidding?

Walking in the back, he spotted Xander and Oz chatting idly
as they put away their instruments. As soon as they laid
eyes on Spike, they stopped talking.

"Spike, how are ya?" Xander greeted him, giving him a faint
smile.

"Good, hey, where can I find Buffy?"

Oz pointed to a small hallway across the room. "First door on
the right."

"Thanks."

Spike nervously made his way to Buffy's door, wondering
when in the hell he had become such a chicken shit. How
was it possible that such a tiny girl like Buffy could instill such
doubt and fear in him. ‘Since she became a woman, not a tiny
girl any longer,' a voice in his head told him. Yeah, that's
when.

He knocked on the door and waited, holding his breath. The
door flung open. "I'm almost done Wes, just need to pack up
my stuff." The whirlwind that was Buffy hadn't even
bothered to look at him before she was on her way over to
the vanity and shoving things in a small bag.

"It's not Wes."

She froze and looked up in the mirror. Her mouth was slightly
open, shocked. Then she snapped it shut and narrowed her
eyes a little. "Didn't think I was going to see you again."

"Did you want to?" He asked, hope creeping into his voice a
little more than he would have liked. "You kicked me out,
remember?"

"You pissed me off," she said matter-of-factly, turning to
him.

"I know. I came to apologize. May I come in?"

She nodded, and gestured to an empty chair across the
room.

"You don't mind if I pack up while you talk do you?"

"No. But will you really be listening?"

She smiled, "yeah. I will."

"Ok."

Silence.

"You can start at any time," she told him, waiting.

"I was waiting for you to start packing."

"Will that put you at ease?"

"I think so."

"Ok," and she started moving about the room, picking up this
and that.

"Buffy, I was being ignorant when I said what I said about
Wesley."

She stopped and stared at him. "Yeah, you were."

"I guess I was trying to find some way to blame you too."

She waited, not moving, listening.

"I realize now that since we got robbed of the chance to talk
and understand what happened to us, we kind of took it in
our own hands and came up with our own reasons. You
blame me for pressuring you into a relationship that was
forbidden by your parents. I blame you for not standing up to
them."

"I in turn blame myself for not standing up to you either."

"Right. I guess I was looking for the old Buffy that always
looked to me to have all the answers and to always be right. I
couldn't admit that I might have been wrong. I did pressure
you to sneak around when I knew you weren't comfortable
with it."

"You miss the fact that I wanted to be with you just as much,
Spike."

"Because you didn't really believe I loved you enough to stay
with you no matter what."

She nodded, sitting down on the chair across the room from
him. A great distance loomed between them.

"And instead of trying to understand where you were
coming from, I flung accusations at you and about Wes. What
you sang about. . . that last song. I get it now. It's not that you
don't believe in fairy tales Buffy, it's that you are trying to
believe in yourself."

She looked down. "It's a process. I haven't perfected it yet."

"No, you haven't, but Buffy. . . you're right in that you're not
the same girl you used to be. I think I was still looking for her
and was disappointed when I couldn't find her anymore. All
this time I was thinking you'd given up, but you haven't. You
ARE fighting. You're fighting for a happy ending for yourself
without having to rely on childhood dreams of a knight in
shining armor. All that you've done—leaving home, getting
help, starting a new life for yourself—Buffy, you've come
farther than you realize. Farther than I gave you credit for.
You. . . you're a strong woman now Buffy."

She let out a short laugh, slightly bitter and he saw tears
shining in her eyes. "Sometimes I don't feel very strong."

"How so?"

"The fact that I'd like nothing more than to be done with you."

He didn't even try to disguise his hurt at that statement.

She rushed to explain though. "I mean that I'd like to say that
I'm strong enough to just put the past behind me and move on
and say that I don't need you to help me do that. But I do."

"I can understand that," he murmured.

"And you weren't entirely wrong. I believe happy endings
can happen, just not for me."

Spike felt his heart break at that statement and he moved so
that he was kneeling in front of her. He took her hands in his
and gazed up at her intently. "Buffy, don't say that. You can
have a happy ending. You can. Don't you see that you
already do? Wesley adores you—"

"But I don't have our baby," she sobbed. "What was so
wrong with me that I couldn't keep it?"

Now Spike wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
The strong stoic woman he'd witnessed her to be over the
past couple weeks was crying and it broke his heart to see it
now as it had when they were teenagers.

"Nothing is wrong with you Buffy, nothing. Have you ever
seen a doctor about being able to conceive later on?"

She nodded, "it was just ‘one of those things'. I just. . . I don't
understand how something that felt so right could have been
so wrong."

Spike pulled back. "What do you mean Buffy?"

"I mean, it felt so RIGHT to be pregnant with your baby and
just like that. . . it was taken and then I wasn't able to see you
and everything just fell apart." She was full out sobbing
now. "And I just don't believe that I'm ever meant to be happy
like that. If I am, it'll be snatched away from me. I just keep
thinking if I hadn't loved you so much, if I hadn't been so
happy, if I hadn't snuck around, if I hadn't lied to my
parents. . . I'd still have had you and our baby."

Spike was crying now too. He understood. Oh GOD did he
understand. It was what he felt all this time, all these
years. . . this was why they needed each other now. This
was what they needed to heal from.

"This was the conversation we needed to have," he
whispered, his anger starting to rise at the people who kept
them apart. "This is what we needed to do. We needed to
mourn and to cry and to be angry. . . I hate them," he
whispered passionately, "I hate them for not giving us that."

"I'm tired of hating and being in pain and carrying this around.
I'm tired, I'm just so tired. Damn you for coming back in my life
and making me face these demons."

He pulled back and pushed some hair away from her face,
tenderly wiping her tears away with the pads of his
fingers. "Ditto, luv. Ditto."




TBC.....





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