A/N I found out yesterday that I won Best Fantasy Author at the Spuffy Awards! I wanted to tell everyone thank you, because without so many loyal readers and reviewers I never would have kept posting my work and you’re the reason I was giddy all day yesterday…okay, and today, too :-)
Chapter 13
Spike walked through the hallway on his way to the cafeteria a week later.
He smiled when he saw Buffy walk into the library, busying himself for a few
moments before following her.
“Mr. Bradley,” Rupert Giles said with a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for some books on the Boxer Rebellion,” Spike said off the top
of his head.
“Back in the stacks,” Giles said. “Second row from the back. Would you like
me to show you?”
“No thanks, I’ll find them,” Spike replied, already heading to the very back
of the library.
He looked up and down each aisle, searching for Buffy as he approached the
back. He smiled when he saw her disappear around a corner, never having
seen him. Spike hurried to the following row, waiting around the corner and
grabbing her when she walked around.
Buffy gasped seconds before Spike’s lips crashed down on hers. She realized
who it was the moment his lips touched hers, letting her arms wrap around
his neck as his tongue stroked against hers.
Both were breathing heavily as they pulled apart. “Spike, what are you
doing?” Buffy whispered, looking around.
“I thought that was obvious,” Spike said with a grin, pulling her closer to
enjoy the feel of her body against his.
“What about Giles?” she asked softly, closing her eyes as his lips trailed
along her neck.
“He’s fine,” Spike said, letting his tongue sweep along her pulse point,
smiling as Buffy trembled in his arms. “But I shouldn’t stay very long.”
“Just some stolen kisses?” Buffy asked with a smile as Spike pulled back to
look at her.
“That’s about right,” Spike said with his own smirk before his lips met hers
in a passionate kiss.
Buffy pulled back after a moment. “Can I come over tonight?” she whispered
hesitantly.
Spike’s eyes lit up at the request. “Of course you can, sweetheart,” he
said softly. “Are you sure you can get away?”
“Mom’s going out of town on some art-buying excursion. She’ll be back on
Sunday.”
“So I get the whole weekend with my girl?” Spike asked with a smile.
“If that’s me, then you do,” she said quietly.
Spike brushed a kiss across her forehead as Buffy’s eyes closed at the
tenderness of the moment. “You know that’s you,” he whispered, trailing his
hand along her cheek. “I better go before Giles comes to check on me.
Come by whenever you can, okay?”
Buffy nodded as Spike gently took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up
to brush his lips across hers. She watched as he turned around and walked
through the stacks.
Spike found three books on the Boxer Rebellion and selected two before
making his way back to the front of the library.
“Did you find everything you needed?” Giles asked as he scanned the books.
“It took me a while, but I finally found them,” Spike lied with a sheepish
smile.
“Did you see Buffy back there?”
Spike raised his eyes to encounter the older man. ‘What’s he asking?’
“Um…I saw someone, but I didn’t pay attention to who it was,” Spike replied,
hating the hesitancy in his voice.
“Yes,” Giles said softly, studying the man in front of him. “Well…enjoy
your books.”
“I’ll do that.”
Spike took the books, walking out into the hallway with a distant
expression. ‘Does he know anything?’
* * * * *
Buffy slipped inside Spike’s house later that night. He’d left the back
door open for her, in case any neighbors were being particularly
inquisitive. She frowned when she saw him sitting in the darkened living
room, a bottle of vodka in his hand.
Buffy could barely make out his form sitting in the chair as she walked
toward his silhouette. “Spike?” she asked tentatively. He’d been unusually
quiet in class today, and Buffy was beginning to get nervous.
“Spike, what’s wrong?” Buffy asked, setting her bag down and walking toward
him.
“Go home, Buffy,” he said in a slurred voice.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Spike practically growled. “Get out.”
“Spike, what happened?” Buffy asked, feeling her heart pounding in her
chest as she took a hesitant step forward.
“We’re getting sloppy,” Spike said, standing up and taking a huge swallow of
the hard liquor. “This can’t continue.”
Buffy felt tears burning her eyes as she looked at him. “Do you really mean
that?” she whispered.
Spike looked away, not wanting to see the pain in her eyes as he nodded.
Buffy swallowed her tears as she backed away. “Fine,” she replied, grabbing
her bag. “I’ll see you around.”
Spike closed his eyes when he heard the door slam behind her. Taking a deep
breath and clenching his jaw, he turned and smashed the bottle against the
wall.
* * * * *
Buffy lay in her bed later that night with tears streaming down her face.
Her sobs hadn’t stopped since she walked through the door hours ago. She
jumped when she heard the loud knocking on the door, not bothering to dry
her eyes as she walked down the stairs. Buffy was surprised when she saw
Spike standing on her front porch, his bloodshot eyes taking in her
appearance. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body, retreating into herself.
“Baby,” he whispered, walking into the house and closing the door behind
him. “I’m sorry.”
Buffy watched him as her tears continued to fall. “For what?” she said softly,
not wanting to believe that he was really wanting her back.
“I got scared…I thought…”
Spike trailed off, unable to follow his thoughts that were racing through his head.
“Well, thanks for clearing that up,” Buffy said with a cold voice as she
stared at him, tightening her arms around her body. “You’ve made it pretty clear.”
“I shouldn’t have told you to leave,” he whispered. “We’re going to have to
be more careful.”
“That’s if I decide I even want to continue this,” Buffy replied, crossing
her arms over her chest.
“I deserve that,” Spike said, looking away from her.
Spike jumped when he found Buffy sobbing in his arms, her face pressed against his chest,
his arms immediately closing around her. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Spike,” she whispered,
her tears being absorbed by his shirt. “It hurts too much.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. “I
shouldn’t have gotten drunk tonight.”
Spike knew it was a flimsy excuse. After all, the real problem was still
boiling below the surface, but he could ignore it…for now.
“Will you hold me?” she asked softly, pulling him gently up the stairs.
Spike nodded as they walked into her room. He watched as Buffy curled up on
her bed, her eyes wide as he took off his shirt before lying down next to
her, smiling softly when Buffy curled into him. It felt as if she was trying to burrow into his body, seeking comfort.
Both soon fell asleep, exhaustion taking precedence as they took reassurance in
each other.
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