[Reviews - 304]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2846 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Eleven

"I'm going to help her train, Buffy," Spike said as he put the car in park and cut the engine.

She turned to him. "You're WHAT?"

"I'm going to help her Buffy. I can't not help her. She'll get herself killed."

Buffy climbed out of the car and slammed the car door shut, trying to hold
back the strength she could feel coursing through her. Spike was on her
heels, following her up the stairs.

"Buffy, let's talk this out."

She marched to the bathroom to run a bath. She was so angry at Spike she
was shaking and feeling very near tears. She didn't get Spike, she didn't get
Giles and she did NOT like Tara. She was still on the fence about Willow.

"Pet, please talk to me," he said standing in the doorway. She turned to
face him.

"What are thinking?"

"I'm thinking that she's vulnerable not only being the Slayer but not
having a Watcher to help her. She needs our help."

"She needs our help. . . " Buffy muttered on a bitter chuckle. "She witnesses
her best friend get killed by a vampire when she's ten and then witnesses a
Slayer coming to save her and her family just in the nick of time. You're
telling me she never learned after that how to defend herself against
vampires? She's been a Slayer how long? Oh wait, I never got to ask that
because I was too busy being scolded like a child!"

"Buffy, I'm sorry—"

"I don't want to hear it! You're supposed to be my husband, my mate and
my best friend Spike. You didn't treat me like any of those things. You
humiliated me in front of them. Made me look like I was just some kind of
bitch."

"Pet I'm—"

"If you say I'm sorry I won't be responsible for my actions," she hissed.

"Buffy, you fought your first demon when you were sixteen. Whistler came
along and helped you until I came along. Do you know that it scares me to
think of you fighting demons at such an early age? If Whistler hadn't been
there and if I hadn't. . . Buffy, I don't want the same end to happen to Tara
that could have happened to you. When I see her, I see you. I see you
young and alone and without anyone there to have your back."

"She's twenty. She's not that young."

Spike ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "What is your beef with
her? What is it that you don't like? Is it because you're jealous?"

"I don't trust her!"

"Why?" he burst out, "tell me Buffy, why?"

"She lied to us!"

"Buffy . . . you are hardly one to throw stones about lying. You lied to me
for a fucking year when you took off to England! And you kept this dream
from me for over a month! All she did was keep a shade of the truth out –"

"A shade that could have put us in danger. Once every vamp in the place
gets wind that she's the Slayer, all of us who associated with her are in
danger! Including your baby."

"OUR baby."

"Then act like a goddamn father and ask the right questions."

That was the wrong thing to say and Buffy knew it the minute it flew out of
her mouth. Spike's jaw started twitching and his fists were balled up at his
sides. Without a word, he spun around and stormed away. Buffy stood
there, unable to bring herself to go after him even though she knew she
should. It didn't matter because a minute later, the door slammed shut.



Her body was tired, but her mind was racing. She laid there, waiting for
Spike to return and worrying about what kind of trouble he was getting
himself into. She knew he had to be drinking. She just hoped he wasn't
planning on patrolling and fighting. Needless to say it had her worried. So
worried, that she shot out of bed in the next instant as images of Spike
fighting drunk and getting seriously injured or staked passed through her
mind. Pulling on her maternity jeans and a shirt, she slipped on her shoes
and headed for the door. Flipping open the door, Spike nearly fell through
it.

"Bloody ‘ell!" he sputtered and caught himself.

She wrinkled her nose as the scent of whiskey drifted from him.

"Where are you going?" Spike drawled as he propped himself up against
the wall.

"I was going out to look for you," she told him.

"No you're not Goldilocks."

"Well, not now. You're right here."

He shook his head. "You're not allowed to go out there no matter what," he
pointed at her, swaying in front of her. "I take care of what's mine and you
are mine. You and the baby. I know how to be a goddamned father and a
good one! I wouldn't ever let anything hurt you."

"Spike, I want to have this conversation with you, but now when you're
like this. Just rest your drunken mind that I didn't mean it and I'm sorry."

"Sorry," he snorted. "Sorry ain't gonna cut what you said to me." He
pressed a hand over his heart. "That hurt Buffy. You sayin' I would ever
put the baby in danger? Or you? I couldn't . . . " his eyes welled up in tears.
"How could you think it?"

It wasn't often that Spike cried when drunk. It was unnerving. Moving
towards him, she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Come on Big Bad, let's
get you in a nice shower and then into bed okay?"

He allowed her to drag him to the bathroom. She turned the spray on and
helped him undress. Tears flowed, but he wasn't making a sound otherwise.
When he was naked – and now hard – he pulled her so that she was flush
against his front. "Come with me," he murmured huskily, nuzzling her neck.


The temptation to follow him into the shower was almost overwhelming.
She stared up at him. At his sad eyes with anger lurking just below the
surface. Anger at her. She knew also that as happy as she was to have him
safe and at home, sex wasn't going to solve the discord between them. They'd both been hurtful and what he was offering wouldn't assuage the anger. She refused to have that be the way they communicated. She also didn't want sex to toss what happened earlier under the rug.

"No baby," she told him gently. "I'll sit on the can and wait for you okay?"

"You don't love me anymore," he whimpered, burying his face further in
her neck and clutching her closer.

Why had she been jealous of Tara again exactly? Standing there with his
erection pressed against her stomach and his face buried in her neck with
tears soaking her shirt, she suddenly felt silly for thinking Spike felt
something other than ‘duty' for Tara.

"I love you Spike. I love you more than anything."

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, popping his head up to look at her.

"Yes, but we'll still need to talk."

He nodded.

"Can you forgive me?"

He nodded again.

"I'll ask again when you're sober. In you go," and she helped him into the
shower. Sitting on the toilet, she buried her head in her hands, suddenly
exhausted. She blamed Tara for this. It was just yet another strike against
the mysterious girl.






You guys are the best!!! Thank you so much for the reviews...I love hearing what you guys think! I promise that the mysterious smell will be cleared up...though I can't say that it will be soon . . .





You must login (register) to review.