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Home is Where the Heart Is, Part 12



Home is Where the Heart Is, Part 12

By Rachel

For disclaimers, summary, notes, etc. please see the first chapter.

 
Sorry for the delay, my beta and I both got tied up with school work (but don't go blame her either!) Part 13 should be coming out soon, hopefully :)

 
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"I still can't get over the fact that we're married now," Buffy commented in complete awe for what must have been the hundredth time that night. She tightly clutched their marriage certificate in her hands, gazing in wonderment at their names written on the same line together. William and Buffy Giles, she thought proudly in her head.

"It is pretty amazing, love," Spike agreed, glancing over at her before returning his eyes back to the road. He sighed in relief as he passed the entrance to their apartment complex, glad that the two of them were almost back home.

"I mean, I am Mrs. Giles now," Buffy continued speaking. "I just...wow, I never thought that I'd be lucky enough to find and marry a man as wonderful as you."

"I feel exactly the same way," Spike admitted. "Well, except for finding a woman, obviously."

"Willow is going to absolutely wig when I tell her," Buffy realized. "And then she'll be mad at me since I'm waiting until tomorrow to fill her in on the good news."

"You don't want to call her when we get home?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, I'll just tell her tomorrow morning when I get to work." She looked over at him with nothing but love reflecting in her hazel orbs. "I want to spend tonight with you."

"Sounds like a plan to me," her new-husband concurred.

"What is your dad going to say about this?" Buffy wondered. And how come I didn't think of this *before* we ran off to get married? "After all, this was sort of unplanned."

"I'm sure Dad will love it. He'll be surprised, I bet, but he'll get used to the idea very quickly; I'm sure of it," Spike insisted. "He's always been partial to you, love."

As the two of them pulled into the front driveway, Buffy over at him with worry glazed over her eyes. "Do you think Mom would have approved?"

Spike cocked his head towards her, a small smile forming at the edge of his lips. His hand stretched out and grabbed onto hers, tightly squeezing it in a loving matter. "Of course she would have, Buffy. She would have been so proud of everything you've accomplished," he gently assured her before climbing out of the car.

Spike proceeded to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door and helping Buffy climb from the front seat. Buffy muttered a soft "thanks" to her husband as she placed their marriage certificate in the envelope given to them at the altar and placed the paper in her purse. Buffy fished around in her pocketbook for the set of house keys as she and Spike approached the front door to their apartment. Once getting the correct key in the lock, Buffy unlocked the door and pushed it open with her shoulder, taking a step into the foyer.

However, before she could get further into their home, Spike grabbed her shoulder and dragged her back outside. "Wha--" Buffy began.

"C'mon, pet, isn't there some traditional thing we're supposed to do that all folks do after they get married?" Spike asked, a grin wide on his features.

"What? You mean that 'carry the wife over the threshold' thing?" Buffy answered him. She shrugged her shoulders, "I just thought we'd skip that."

"Why?" Spike questioned. "Let's get this marriage started off on the right foot, at least."

Buffy giggled excitedly as Spike swept her, weightless, into his arms and carried her through most of the doorway and into their dimly lit house. She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, caressing the back of his neck, her fingers running through his hair, as she teasingly rubbed her nose against his. Slowly, the two met in a kiss that rapidly began spiraling out of control.

"We're going to give anyone outside watching this quite a show," Buffy breathlessly whispered a second later as the two pulled back, nodding towards the open door with her head.

"Don't want that, do we?" Spike adknowledged. He glanced back at the front door and kicked it shut with the heel of his boot. "Better?"

"Much."

Spike lowered his head and caught Buffy's lips, taking her mouth with savage intensity. With all the passion and love he could muster, Spike kissed her lips over and over again as they slowly made their way up the stairs.

 
~~~

 
"Willow!" Buffy shouted as she pushed the front door of the gallery open. Thanks to Spike, not only did she oversleep, but she had also been an hour late leaving their apartment this morning. She just hoped that Willow had arrived on time and was handling everything fairly well. "Willow, are you here yet?"

"Yeah! I'm here!" Willow shouted from the back the moment she heard her best friend exclaiming her name. A second later, she came running out from the back room. "Buffy? What's wrong?"

Buffy shrugged her shoulders and approached her friend. "Nothing is wrong, Willow," she insisted. "Why do you ask?" Purposely, Buffy slowly brought up her left hand to scratch her chin, as if deep in thought.

Oh my... Willow thought, her eyes popping wide open. "Buffy!" she shrieked, reaching out and roughly grabbing her friend's hand, gaping at the ring before her. "Ohmigod! Oh my god, Buffy, is this what I think it is?"

Buffy nodded triumphantly. "Spike asked me to marry him," she proudly announced. "And...we sorta ran off to Las Vegas and got married last night."

By now, Willow appeared as if she were getting ready to faint from shock. "Wow..." she sighed. "That's so...oh, that's so romantic, Buffy. I always hoped you two would get this far."

"Really?" Buffy pondered aloud, surprised at hearing her friend's admission. After all, Willow had never been too vocal with her opinions about the two of them.

Willow tugged on Buffy's arm and led her over to a cluster of chairs in the back corner of the main room. "You have to tell me *everything*, right now. When, where, how did he ask you, what happened?...*Everything*."

Buffy laughed at her friend's eager enthusiasm. "Okay, okay," she answered, giving into her friend's request. "Well, we were walking home from the gallery last night when--"

"Sorry to interrupt," a man broke into the conversation, tentatively approaching the two women. He had entered into the gallery a minute or two after Buffy had, obviously unnoticed due to Willow's excitement over Buffy’s news.

Buffy gazed at the tall, brown-haired man standing in front of her. He was dressed in a long, black trench coat with a briefcase in his hand and glasses resting on the edge of his nose. He looks pretty professional, Buffy realized. Wonder if anything is wrong. She stood and smiled at him, saying, "Is there anything we can help you with, sir?"

"I'm looking for a Ms. Summers. Is she available at the moment?"

Buffy grinned and she felt Willow jokingly poking her in her back for a couple of seconds. "Actually, it's Mrs. Giles now," she politely corrected him.

"Ahh, my apologies," he apologized. "I'm Phillip Evans. I came by here to talk with you about your gallery."

Buffy's eyebrows tightened as new tension filled her. "Is there something wrong with the gallery, Mr. Evans? I've been running this place for a long time and have never had any complaints before."

Mr. Evans shook his head. "No, there isn't a problem Mrs. Giles."

"Then..." Buffy began, wondering what other possible reason would bring him here.

"Is there a place where we could sit and talk in private perhaps?" he suggested.

"Sure." She turned her attention back to Willow for a second, asking, "Will? Can you keep an eye on things out here?"

"Sure thing, Buffy." Willow nodded and rose from her seat, traveling to the front desk.

"Follow me," Buffy ordered. "We can talk in my office."

After Buffy shut the door to her office and Mr. Evans took his seat, Buffy cleared her throat and repeated her question, "So, you said that there isn't anything wrong with my gallery?"

"No, quite the contrary, actually," Mr. Evans assured her. "Over the last year, I've began hearing great things about your small gallery, Ms. Sum...I mean, Mrs. Giles. Word of your gallery has spread to L.A., even. People are talking about your gallery in my very office."

"And this office's name would be...?" Buffy started, curious about who he was representing.

"Oh, I work for Evans and Grove," the man explained.

Buffy's eyes widdened, the surprise evident on her face. Although she hadn't lived in L.A. for a long duration of her life, Buffy had heard about this funding company and how well repsected it was. "Well, thank you for the compliments, Mr. Evans," Buffy gratefully said. "We try our best with what little space we have," Buffy explained.

"I understand. Tell me, have you ever thought about possibly moving to a larger space?" Mr. Evans asked. "Think about it...more storage, larger display areas, and just more space in general?"

Buffy sighed. "I've thought about it, would love for that chance, but...I probably won't ever have an opportunity to see something like that really happen. My small staff and I know that we just don't have the finances--"

"Mrs. Giles, this is why I'm here." Mr. Evans paused to pull out a business card from his inside coat pocket. "Because of all of the positive things I've heard about your gallery, my funding company and I are interested in helping you grow."

Buffy gasped. Shakily, she extended her arm and took the card from his grip. "Are you serious?"

Mr. Evans chuckled. "Quite."

"I just...this is so unexpected."

"I know, and because of that, I don't want an answer from you right away," he continued. "Take a couple of weeks to get everything figured out. Talk to your husband about this; see if he'd support you."

"Spike is going to be as thrilled about this as I am; I'm sure of it," Buffy assured him.

"Spike?"

"Uh...high school nickname," Buffy corrected herself, lightly blushing from embarrassment. She composed herself before continuing, saying, "I'll definitely have an answer for you in a couple weeks."

"Excellent, I'd like an answer by then at the latest. After you let us know, we'll help move all of your equipment and supplies to your new store in Los Angeles, but our trucks will--"

"Wait," Buffy interrupted him. "Sorry, but could you repeat that? I mean, my new store in LA?"

"But of course," Evans replied as if the answer were obvious. "Mrs. Giles, it's unreasonable to build onto this complex. Why, you'd have to tear down the building to the right or left of you to add on another room."

"But..." Buffy began, taken back by what Mr. Evans was telling her.

"Mrs. Giles, surely you don't expect to stay in this small town and run a business that's fit for LA, do you?"

 
~~~

 
Originally, Buffy's intention was to come to Sunnydale and stay about ten minutes to carefully watch Spike sign the several sheets of divorce forms. Five days later, she was still here. And although Buffy knew there must be a good reason for her continued presence in Sunnydale, she just couldn't bring herself to even begin thinking why she was still in this small town.

After watching Spike hurry away from her at The Expresso Pump yesterday, Buffy's guilty conscience kicked in when she realized how hurt he had really seemed. The next afternoon, with the goal of apologizing to her ex-husband firmly planted within her mind, Buffy approached Spike's front porch, nervously wringing her hands together as she neared the front door. Okay, I can do this, she commanded herself as she pressed the doorbell and waited for Spike to answer.

A second later, she heard a muffled voice call out from the other side of the door. "Go away, love."

Buffy rolled her eyes. He must have looked through the peephole and was too afraid to come out and actually talk to me. "Spike!" she shouted. "Open the door."

She waited another second without hearing a reply. "Spike, stop acting like a five year old and open the damn door."

A second later, Spike did as she commanded. "What do you want?" he demanded to know as he leaned casually in the doorway with a cold look on his face.

"I..." Buffy began hesitantly, unsure of how to phrase what she was trying to say. "I wanted to apologize."

Spike's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Apologize?"

"Yeah, apologize," Buffy repeated. She paused, drawing up some necessary courage before continuing. "I didn't mean for you to see Angel discussing the engagement yesterday afternoon, *I* didn't even know he was going to announce it so soon. And I really didn't originally plan on acting so cruelly to you when I came down here. I guess it just comes naturally still, so...I'm sorry, Spike."

Spike remained motionless, a deadpan expression on his face. "Is that all? Because you're making me miss 'Passions' in there."

"Oh," Buffy stuttered, feeling an odd twinge of disappointment. "Well, sorry I wasted your time then." She started backing away from him, turning around to descend the steps.

Spike shook his head. I act like I still want her; she hates me. I act like I hate her, and she's hurt, which just makes me hate myself. A bloke just can't win with her, can he? "Love," he started before he realized he’d said anything out loud.

Buffy spun back around to face him, a determined expression set on her face. "I just want to remind you, William, that your week is almost up," she announced. "I'm going back to LA in a couple of days, whether you do anything to try and stop me or not."

"Going back to him," Spike stated softly disappointment and hurt in his words. His few, yet strong, reminders of what the two had shared together had apparently failed.

"And back the gallery," Buffy quickly added. "I've been away from that place too long, and Willow and Tara are getting too bogged down with their own work and running the gallery for me, so--"

"Save it, pet," Spike rudely interrupted. "I don't want to hear about your bloody gallery."

Why is he acting like this all of a sudden? Buffy pondered. "All right, well, I'm just going to go," she softly announced. "I'll be back in a couple of days to pick up the papers, signed this time."

As Buffy left the company of her ex-husband, a pain that she had long ago forced herself to forget, tightly squeezed her heart as she thought about him and the way he had just treated her. Every day she saw him, Buffy was forced to remember their lengthy past together, both the incredible good times and the bad. In the last week, had Spike somehow managed to change her mind?

But being with Spike wasn’t an option…not now. He doesn't even want to see me anymore, Buffy reluctantly realized. He had barely spoken a word to her this
afternoon. He was obviously past the point of caring for her any longer. "And I deserve it, too," she muttered under her breath. God, what have I done?

Buffy trudged back to her car, climbing into the driver’s seat and staring at the wheel. This is crazy, she told herself. This shouldn't even matter to me, and I shouldn't even care about him. Everything is waiting for me back in Los Angeles. *Angel* is waiting for me in L.A.! Angel is a famous, well-known actor, who is polite, caring, and has always been there for me ever since I met him. He can support me and love me better than anyone else can.
Or can he...?
Angel thinks I'm coming down here to visit some of my old friends, and instead, I *lie* and drop in on my ex, an ex-husband that he doesn't even know about! Gee, what a *great* start to our engagement, Buffy chided herself.

Buffy exhaled loudly, leaning her forehead against the wheel of the car, feeling a massive headache beginning to form in the back of her head. Just how did all of this happen? When did things get so bad between Spike and me? He always blamed it on my gallery...I always thought that it was his restaurant. So when did we both get so involved with our professional lives that we forgot about what mattered most? Our love?

Groaning, Buffy sat up and pounded the leather covered steering wheel with her fist. "It's ridiculous; it's just simply ridiculous," Buffy argued aloud to herself. "I can't drop everything and come back here, even if I wanted to."

Do I? Do I want to?

Buffy slid the key into the igniton, starting up the car and backing out of the parking space. No, don't even go there, Summers. You're just going to get yourself into deeper trouble. Just...go back to the hotel and relax for the rest of the day. Order a movie on pay-per-view, have a few drinks...just don't think about *him*.

Five minutes into her short drive back to the Holiday Inn, a new thought crossed Buffy's mind, sending her whirling at the fresh revelation, Can I love two men at the same time?

As soon as she asked herself the question, she knew the answer.

No. I can’t.


~~~

 
For the rest of the afternoon, all Buffy could think about was what Phillip Evans had told her. He had offered her the chance of a lifetime for her gallery, and yet, she knew that it would come at a high price.

Buffy knew that Spike would never agree to move to L.A.; after all, he had his own restaurant to manage and worry about. However, she knew that this was her one, possibly only, chance to elevate her gallery’s status in the world.

Mr. Evans had given her a strict two weeks to make her final decision before he offered someone else the funding. Her brain was telling her "yes" while her heart was screaming at her to stay at home with Spike and everything familiar. Now, she was torn about what she should do.

Buffy knew that she should at least bring up the topic with Spike and see what he thought, what he wanted. Who knows? Maybe he'd be willing to follow her to LA and run his restaurant there instead.

As the day passed, business picked up, and luckily, Buffy was able to distract herself and forget about her worries with all of the customers and artists pouring in. Spike was planning on arriving near closing time to walk her home that evening, and Buffy planned on bringing up what Mr. Evans had told her then.

As Buffy strolled past the front doorway on the way to help a customer, she noticed a head of bleached hair poking into the room. "Spike!" she gasped in surprise. She glanced down at her watch, wondering if the time had just slipped away. "You're here early. What are you doing here?"

Spike shrugged as he entered the brightly-lit room. "Xander and the crew are managing to run the restaurant right now. How, I don't know, but I decided to see if you needed any help. I know that you're especially busy around this time of day." He approached her and gave her a loving hug. "How are you?"

"Tired," she answered him, leaning into his embrace. And worried, she mentally added.

"Well, maybe you could close up shop a little bit earlier than usual tonight, and we can head on home together," Spike suggested. "Or we could catch a movie. We haven't been out since we ran off to Vegas."

Buffy shook her head regrettably. "No, I can't, Spike. I have too much to do here right now, and--"

"Buffy!" Willow shouted, rushing out of one of the back rooms. "We really need your help back here. Kenzzie wants his portraits on display in the main room, *not* the side window where we originally placed all of his works."

"I'll be right there, Will," Buffy answered, glancing at her red-haired friend for a second before returning her concentration back to Spike. "Look, I really need to be here for the rest of the night; things are hectic around the holiday times. They always are."

"That's fine, pet," Spike assured her.

"Look, you're free to hang around and wait for me," Buffy suggested.

"All right, let me know if you need any help. I can, uh, run the front desk or something if you want me to," Spike offered.

"Thank you," she sincerely replied. Buffy took a deep breath before continuing, summoning the strength to bring up what Mr. Evans had discussed with her. "Also, I have something I need to talk with you about when we...well, *I* get some free time."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it until when we can talk privately."

"All right." Spike’s expression betrayed his concern. "It's nothing bad, is it?"

Quickly, almost too quickly, Buffy shook her head "no" before flashing him a reassuring smile. "It's nothing big," she affirmed.

After the last person exited the double glass panel doors, Buffy sighed in relief. She retreated to the back room to chat with Willow for a second before approaching her husband with a grin on her face. "Spike, we can finally go home!" she called in relief to her husband who was resting in a chair at the back of the room.

"We're ready?" Spike wanted to know.

"Yes, Willow is going to close up tonight for me," Buffy explained. She reached over the desk, grabbed her purse, and turned off the small lamp in the corner. "We can get out of here now."

Spike wrapped his arm around her slender waist as the two headed to the front door. "Oh, there was something you wanted to tell me?" he remembered. "Do you want to talk about it here before we head on home?"

Buffy paused. Tell him, tell him now, she commanded herself. Tell him before you completely loose your nerve. Smiling sweetly up at him, she forcefully shook her head. "No, it's not important. It can wait until later."


~~~

 
TBC...





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