Do What You Have to Do
Part XIV
The rest of the dinner went more smoothly than anyone would have guessed. Not to say that there weren't a handful of awkward pauses and stolen glances but only three individuals noticed the said distractions.
As uncomfortable as he had been earlier, Spike had forced himself to enjoy the meal for Dawn's sake and, from the looks of it all, she, along with the others, were having a grand old time. In fact, he was impressed with the ease everyone had taken to conversing. He was thankful of the amiable atmosphere the conversation provoked--not only for Dawn but Buffy as well. He knew without a doubt that she was feeling the same burden as he was though she had not shown it much since Garrett had first shown up.
Spike turned towards Dawn when her hand patted his arm. She smiled apologetically at him, understanding the tension he was obviously feeling. Guess we aren't as covert as I assumed, he thought and granted the teen with a warm smile. Putting his thoughts aside, Spike turned is attention back to the conversation at hand.
Contrary to Spike's calmness, Buffy was a nervous wreck. Every time the former vampire glanced her way with those piercing blue eyes or she brushed against Garrett had the slayer wanting to run for the hills. It's that delightful little thing called guilt, Buffy admonished internally. Oh yeah, she was feeling the delicious ache of the wings of guilt fluttering freely inside her guts. Of course, she was pretty sure no one had picked up on the beefy side of angst with a helping of trepidation that danced on top of her conscience as she smiled at the right times and participated healthily in conversations and anecdotes being passed around. Being around Garrett these two years had not only helped her open up more but it also gave her the abilities to hide what she was feeling--not with a mask of indifference but with the true to life emotions she would have felt had her conscience been clear. Yeah, she was a regular Sarah Michelle Gellar, worthy of critical acclaim not to mention a nice, shiny Emmy.
Of course, she would have to deal with her actions (as well as make a decision) sooner or later and, as much as she wished it to be the latter, she understood that the former would have to take place if she wanted to be fair.
Too late for that, she admitted, smiling at Xander's comment about the political agendas of Emmy judges.
Garrett smiled tiredly when he heard the dulcet sounds of Buffy laughter next to him. It was the first true expression of enjoyment she had given during the past two hours. He smirked inwardly as he thought about her attempts at hiding what she was feeling, something he often did though he didn't do it much around her, only when he knew she was already dealing with things of her own. Like now.
Although they had talked on occasion the past few months about their hiatus, Garrett had never broached the subject full force and it was wearing him down. He had no one to blame but himself considering that he had been avoiding the deep conversations more than Buffy had. That wasn't to say that she was being Ms. Forthcoming but Garrett had seen the look in her eyes and though there was no hiding the major reservations she had about talking things through, he also saw her willingness to talk despite the potential angst of the situation. Knowing that brought him to the decision he had just made internally--after dinner, he and Buffy would have that talk.
***
Forty minutes after dessert had been served, the Scoobies filed out of the restaurant, appetites sated. Since Spike was staying with Buffy and Dawn, Xander had offered to take Giles in and the two of them had fled in Xander's Taurus. Willow was going to drop Dawn off at the house and, as much as he loathed leaving Buffy and Garrett alone, Spike rode with them, intent on talking with the teen. That left Buffy and Garrett, leaning against their respective cars that were parked next to one another.
"So," Garrett ventured, keeping his gray eyes focused on the concrete, willing himself not to look at the tan leg peeking out from the slit of Buffy's dress.
"So," the slayer replied, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She had no illusions as to why Garrett had pulled her aside as they left, whispering that they needed to talk. She also knew what it was that he wanted to talk about and, to put it mildly, she was so not looking forward to it.
"Where to begin? Where to begin?" he questioned, more to himself than to her. He bit his lower lip and Buffy had to stifle a giggle. It was a trait that he showed only during times of extreme nervousness--sorta like the way Spike used to run his hand through his platinum locks when…No Buffy, the slayer reprimanded as her thoughts took a turn towards the ex-vampire. She couldn't think about him now if she wanted to be fair, needing to give her undivided attention to Garrett. Decision made, she locked all thoughts and sensations relating to Spike deep into her mental vaults though she wasn't sure how long they would stay that way. Better take advantage of it now.
"So," she began nervously, "did you wanna talk about…us?" She glanced up at him and he did the same. Their eyes locked and a heat suffused through both of them at the longing for one another. To Garrett, it was like no other feeling he had ever felt, not even with Cynthia. He wanted nothing better than to get lost in those hazel storms that calmed the raging storm inside of him while, at the same time, stirring the waves and tides crashing against his soul. Buffy was his everything and though he could, Garrett did not want to imagine what it would be like without her.
The surge of emotion that welled within Buffy was equally as powerful. The love behind Garrett's eyes steadied her unlike Riley or even Angel. The only person that had had an effect similar to his gray jewels had been the person she had refused to let into her heart. Part of her was disgusted that she questioned giving herself to the man standing not two feet from her as he had been the one to anchor her to a world she had experienced so much heartbreak in. How could she be so cruel as to leave him for another after all he had done?
But as that part of Buffy cursed her, another part, the one filled with passion and truth, commended her for her strength and courage at not taking the easy way out, something she had done for years. There was no doubt that she had always made the hard choices when it came to slaying but decisions concerning her love life had never been met head on, always letting her love—or fear of it—guide her. Either she jumped in with both feet (as with Angel) or she tested the water with her toe, though never going in all the way. The past two years had watched her mature into someone that could use her heart, soul and mind when confronting the monstrous love that she would give to a man. Every ounce of Buffy Summers would be needed to figure out her current situation.
She wasn't one hundred percent sure what to do but one thing that was definite was that, no matter what she decided, Buffy Summers would break someone's heart and a little piece of hers would go along with him.
***
My heart is pounding in my chest as I wait for Garrett to respond. It's not like I don't know what he's going to say but still, hearing it, having him confirm what we need to talk about is different. I try distracting myself by admiring his athletic body and bronze skin but it doesn't work. All I can see are those powerful hands cupping his face as tears claw out his gray eyes. God, I don't know what to do about him.
"Yeah," he finally speaks, nodding his head imperceptibly. "We really need to talk, Buffy." As distracted as I am by my own thoughts, Garrett's nervousness bleeds through my consciousness and I am again reminded of how much I don't want to hurt him but hurting people seems to be the only thing besides slaying that I'm proficient at even now.
"Yeah," I sigh, breathing for the first time since I asked him did he want to talk. "I guess we do."
We stand in silence for a few moments, admiring our own stylish footwear, all too aware of the potential ramifications that this conversation may bring about. Damn, I would love a distraction right about now. Maybe a few undead bozos could sate the tension burrowing its way between my shoulder blades.
"So, bluff?" He asks and I nod, not needing him to elaborate further. "Want to ride with me?" I motion to say yes but considering how this talk may end up, I think I'd rather stick to my own devices instead of riding back in what could possibly be a most uncomfortable ride.
"I'll follow you," I say and give him a nervous smile, which he returns. I turn around to open my car door but a strong arm brushing against my hip beats me to it. I crane my neck to look up at him and can't help but get tangled up in those gray eyes of his. I lick my lips unconsciously and force myself to the side as he pulls the door open. I smile hesitantly and get in the car.
"Thanks," I say before he closes the door. Garrett's eyes do this dance at the one word as if it's the most precious thing he's ever heard. He has a way of making me feel like I'm the only person in the world and the more I think about it, the more I realize that Angel never made me feel that way. Only Garrett has.
Garrett and Spike, that is.
At the thought of my once undead paramour, I busy myself with the minute details of starting the car and turning on the lights and radio. I fiddle with the knob and grunt my dissatisfaction with the lack of good music. Taking matters into my own hands, I reach in the back seat and pull out on of Dawn's many CD cases. Great, out of all her cases, I get the one with the label-free CDs. Sighing dramatically; I pluck one from the case and shove it in my CD player. I pull out behind Garrett's Beamer and almost slam on the breaks when I hear the same song Spike sang at the club a few nights ago.
Adia I do believe I failed you
Adia I know I've let you down
Don't you know I tried so hard
To love you in my way…
It's easy, let it go…
I'm powerless against the tears that pool within my eyes and I blink them back frantically, not wanting to cry before I have to. I don't know what it is about the song that gets me so emotional--maybe it's the fact that it reminds me of the night I saw him for the first time in two years or maybe…I don't know. Besides, does it matter?
***
It takes about twenty minutes to get to the bluff and by the time I pull up to the edge, my nerves are singing. Buffy pulls in beside me and I wait until she turns off the car before I get out. Running my hands across my short hair, I walk around the back of her car, chuckling at her vanity plate: Chosen1. If people only knew…
She gives me a genuine smile when she gets out of the car and pulls me into an impromptu hug. I hesitate slightly before returning it with a longing born of months not touching her everyday. My eyes close and I inhale the intoxicating vanilla scent that is all Buffy and I have a hard time maintaining composure. Her hair tickles my neck as she nuzzles closer to me and I feel equal parts of contentment and trepidation, not knowing if it is meant as a gesture of goodbye or that she wants to be with me. I'm so damn confused and, being that discretion is the better part of valor, I pull from the embrace all the while biting the inside of my cheek. God, this woman is so beautiful. She looks up at me with that starry gaze and I can see the desire clouding her hazel orbs but it's not alone. There is also a great deal of fear and uncertainty along with a healthy (or unhealthy) dose of guilt. I can't help but wonder what it is she feels guilty about but hopefully all questions will be answered tonight.
She takes my hand and leads me to the front of her car. Hiking her dress up enough to give her flexibility, Buffy hops onto the hood of the car, obviously not caring whether it's dirty or not so I shrug my shoulders and do the same. We sit there in silence, just enjoying the view as we've always done when coming here. I must say that, of all the places we have been together, this is my favorite as it holds a lot of memories for us. Our first 'official date' as a couple, the first time we made love (as well as the last time four months ago), not to mention where I proposed at, so what better place is there to have the talk that may decide the future of our relationship?
The night is silent save for the chirping of crickets and whatever other creatures inhabit the night. Well, at least those not of the supernatural persuasion. Out the corner of my eye, Buffy wraps her arms around her shoulders and my first instinct is to ask if she's cold but when I turn to her, the moonlight reflects the unshed tears gathering within her eyes. Upon further inspection, I can clearly see the dried tear tracks on her cheeks and without thinking I brush my knuckles across them. She stiffens under my initial touch but after a few seconds, she leans into the caress and sighs audibly. I want to ask her what's wrong but what with all that must be going on in her head, I decide to wait for her to tell me.
Of course, I'm just not sure I really want to hear what she's going to say.
***
Where to start? Where to begin? My mind is a jumble of contrasting ideas and half-formed sentences ramming into one another at intersections and crosswalks, not stopping, running right through the 'Buffy needs time to think' stop sign, thank you very much. God, why can't things just go a little bit easier for me. I mean, I've done all the prayers, training, vitamins bit and--hello? --Saved the world a lot. Shouldn't I get some type of free pass for one easy thing? S'not like I'm asking for much here, is it?
Okay, Buff, enough with the pity party. I thought I had gotten over that less than thrilling aspect of my personality a long time ago but I guess some of that part of me is still there.
I bristle at the simple touch Garrett gives my cheeks, wondering if he can see the tears that are begging to fall. After a tense moment, I dismiss it and take comfort in his touch. I relax more as he continues his ministrations and I sway slightly, like I'm hearing a tune that he's not aware of. My tumultuous thoughts are temporarily put aside, all there is for me is his smooth flesh against mine, and the warm May breeze rifling through my hair.
When his hand drops from my face my shoulders slump until he scoots closer to me. He doesn't put an arm around me although our shoulders do touch and I'm comforted by his proximity.
"Beautiful night," I say out of no where. I bite my lower lip at the sound of my own voice as it shatters the companionable silence and I curse myself for not keeping quiet. I already know that my simple statement will only bring about conversation that I so do not want to talk about now.
"Always is up here," he replies, sneaking a look at me before returning his gaze back to the clear sky.
We sit there for several minutes though it seems more like hours. Neither of us speaks or even looks at the other. I know Garrett enough to feel his mind working, thinking of what to say and how to say it. He's never been one to hide from things and let them fester and, instead, he'll approach the problem before it gets the chance to become a monster. I think that's why we're not on opposite ends of the world now. If it weren't for him sensing that something was wrong a few months ago and asking me, I never would have said anything and our relationship would have deteriorated just like Riley's and me. When Garrett asked me to talk to him, I did, telling him that I needed a break. Even after all the changes I have undergone the last two years, Buffy Summers still lacks the initiative when it comes to discussing her relationships. Hopefully Garrett will come through again and we can discuss the things that need to be, well, discussed. Of course, I really don't know how to explain, or even bring up that…
"Something happened, between you and Spike," he states casually. Well, guess I don't have to bring it up now, do I? Of course, that still means I have to explain it. Oh yeah, this'll be a hoot.
I sigh in frustration and nervousness and I catch Garrett's head drop at the gesture. Even without looking at him I can feel his heart breaking from here and the painful knife lodged in my gut digs in a little deeper. Funny that I'd be feeling this considering he's the one that loves someone as unfaithful as I am.
"Did you…" his voice breaks and he coughs to push back the pain coursing through him. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that it will be all right but even denial Buffy knows that's a lie. I open my mouth to ask him what he means but he beats me to it.
"Did you sleep with him?" I bristle at the emotionless tone he asks this with and part of me wants nothing more than to get mad and hurl insults at his audacity at asking such a question. Of course, I'm not like that anymore—too bad I wasn't more mature with Spike. Speaking of him, the other reason that I'm quiet (and hang my head in shame) is that I know without a doubt that if it wasn't for Spike pulling away, I very much would have given myself to him right there against the pillar. It hurts to admit that I can still be so selfish and I can't help but think that I don't deserve either man.
Garrett's eyes are on me now and, mustering all the strength gained in my twenty-three years, I turn my watery eyes to his. I flinch involuntarily at the pain and betrayal written in his gray clouds, knowing that it's taking everything he's worth not to cry. I know it's hard because he's not hiding anymore and I can see the pain of the last few months clearly shining back at me. Pain that I've caused with my indecision and now, my infidelity.
"Garrett, I…" I stutter but my mind refuses to formulate words and instead my mouth flutters open then closed like a fish. Any other time it would be funny but Garrett assumes that my lack of speech is the answer to his question he was not looking for.
"Was it worth it?" he spits and I wince at the harshness of his words. His anger bubbles to the surface yet I can clearly see the broken heart simmering below and I can't help but see that part of Spike in him. How many times have I hurt Spike with carefully chosen words hurled to maim and cut? How many times did he cover his pain with anger or a disinterested smirk? Guess I'm just getting my own medicine though the difference is that, unlike Spike I deserve it.
"Garrett," I whisper and reach out to touch him. I bite my lip when he pulls away harshly, jumping off the hood of the car and his hands clench and unclench at his sides. He's shaking and I know it's only a matter of time before that even-tempered dam of his explodes.
I slide off the car and cautiously walk up to him. I debate whether to touch him and end up grabbing his trembling fingers. He stiffens at my touch and I revert to the lip biting to keep my tears at bay. I don't want to hurt him and even if I didn't sleep with Spike, what we did do isn't any better so I can't even begin to justify anything. Hell, I really don't know anything right now. Should I tell him that we kissed or all of it? Do I tell him it's over or try to work things out? I miss you, Mom.
The thought comes out of no where and it physically jolts me from my spot. I drop Garrett's hand before the tears that I was trying to hold back spill forward and I cover my mouth to prevent the scream building in my chest from bursting forth.
I hear Garrett sigh next to me before his strong arms encircle my petite body. Thankful for the support, I lean into his body and let the tears fall.
I don't know what's hurting more; the reminder that my mom isn't here to comfort me (and hasn't been for four years) or the fact that I'm going to hurt someone that I really love?
***
The silence that greets my question is enough to cleave my heart in two. I taste blood as I bite the inside of my cheek to stay the tears. For whatever reason, I refuse to let her see me cry, give her the satisfaction that she's crumpled and burned my soul into ashes. I never thought anything would hurt as bad as finally giving up on Cynthia after nine months of searching.
As I spring from the car and stare out at the town, I know that that's not true.
The jagged pain that pulses in my chest increases every second and it shoots up exponentially when her petite hand wraps around my fingers. Bile rises in my stomach thinking about the dinner. Both of them acting as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't fuc…did what they did last night. How could she do this to me? To us? Oh, I forgot--there is no us. Not now, probably never had been. Was all our time together just a filler until he returned? Was I just some convenient rebound like Riley or comfort like Spike had been? I really thought I meant something to her but obviously I didn't. Guess it's my own damn fault for believing she could give me her heart after all she's been through.
I curse at myself for giving Buffy excuses but the internal rant is forgotten when anguish radiates from her body. As much as I don't want to look at her, I steal a glance her way and sigh tiredly when I see the tears falling from her beautiful hazel eyes. My pain forgotten, I wrap her in my arms, intent on making her pain go away. Regardless of what she's done and will do to me, one thing I cannot stand is to see Buffy cry. If it cost me my life to prevent her from shedding another tear, from feeling any more pain in this life, I would do it. I would greet that death with a smile on my face, never looking back, just knowing that she would be okay.
A part of me understands that the only thing that matters is Buffy's happiness and yes, I do believe that with all of my heart. But the part of me that's been driven irrational by the agony of what she did refuses to give her support and I am ashamed at its desire to make her hurt as much as I am. The guilt that bubbles up as Buffy cries into my chest overrides the irrationality and my anger is abated--evaporating into the ether, leaving in its wake the ashen and sooty remains of a scorched soul.
Ain't life grand?
***
I don't know how long I cry but by the time I finish, Garrett's shirt is soaked in the front. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to get whatever residual tears remain to dissipate. After I feel that I have it together, taking a deep breath, I push away from Garrett and look him in the eye. My fingertips graze his right cheek, tracing the dried tear tracks visible in the pale light of tonight's moon.
"What's wrong?" I ask and as soon as the words leave me I want to bash my head into a tree. What the hell do you think is wrong with him? God, if I didn't know any better, I'd think I was a natural blonde.
Garrett's chest expands between us and I rest my other hand on the smooth planes of his muscles, feeling their strength through his shirt. His eyes are so sad as they envelop my entire being and I shake off their pull, knowing that we have to talk, not stare at one another as if this is our last time truly being together. Of course, on some level, I do know that that may be the case.
"You were crying," he says matter-of-factly and the simplicity of his tone is what jars me from my conflicting thoughts. His cheerless smile causes me to scrunch my eyebrows together and he lets out a chuckle.
"What?" I ask, confusion evident in my tone.
Shrugging his shoulders, he places a gentle kiss to my forehead before taking two steps back and lowering his head.
"You know," his voice comes out as a whisper and I strain to hear it. He shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks aimlessly at the grass beneath our feet. "You know, when I lost Cynthia, when she was…taken from me, I never thought I'd find someone that would even remotely be able to take her place. As guilty as I felt about thinking it, I knew that, sooner or later, there would be someone else, someone wonderful. But they'd never compare to her, that much I knew." His gray eyes catch mine and his next words propel shivers up my skin.
"But you turned my world upside down," he offers me a wry smile before amending, "in a good way of course." The love in his smile is catching and I can only grin back at him, uncomfortable though thankful with the emotional shift between us.
"Buffy," his expression sobers though there is no anger in his face, "you gave me something that I resigned myself never to feel again. That hole in my heart that Cynthia's disappearance left was patched up at the sight of you. It's as if you removed the sorrow from my heart with one smile. That's not to say that I still don't miss her—especially since I don't know if she's alive or dead and a part of me will always love her, just like a part of you will always love Angel." His face feel again and he turns away from me but not before I see the tears fall freely down his face. I move towards him to comfort him but his quiet words stop me in my tracks.
"And me." It only takes me a second to understand that those two words are an extension of his previous sentence and an irrational anger filters within me.
"So what? You're going to leave?" I thrust my hands to my hips barely aware of the renewed tears that trickle down my already stained cheeks. I don't know how, but Buffy's twisted logic is at it again, justifying my right to be mad at Garrett when, once again, it's my fault that he wants to leave. But can you blame me? I mean, the one person I thought would never leave did, so why should I expect Garrett to stay? Hell, if you can't have faith in a 'till the end of the world" promise, then what exactly can you put faith in?
"Buffy, what are you talking about?"
"You're just like all the rest," I spit venomously, hating myself more every second. I thought I had come so far these past two years but my insecurities and fears rear their ugly heads again. "When the going gets tough, they leave. Guess I can throw you into the whole fantastic bunch." I see the hurt on his face but turn away in shame before it can truly affect me. The next thing I know, Garrett's strong hands grasp me by the shoulders. His grip is so strong for a human yet there is tenderness in his touch despite his palpable anger and even if I weren't a slayer, I wouldn't fear him hurting me.
"First off, get it straight; I'm not the one who broke off the engagement," I motion to say something but he cuts me off, "oh, I'm sorry. We're on a 'hiatus'. Second, I'm still here, jumping through all these damn hoops you've put me through. And finally, I sure as hell didn't fuck my ex and act like nothing hap-" I don't know if he was going to finish but I don't give him a chance and the next thing I know, I'm standing over him as he gazes up at me, stunned. His lip is busted and he puts a hand to his jaw. His face contorts into anger before the damn bursts and he shields his face with his hands. His raspy sob breaks me from my daze and only then do I realize what I just did.
"Oh my God," I whisper, horrified at my actions. I fall to my knees and my hands dangle limply at my sides. Images of Spike's battered and bloodied face assaults my vision and I want to scream them away. Shame continues to course through my veins as I remember the horrible things I've said to him, things conceived purposely in order to instill the maximum amount of pain. And now…and now I can only stare at Garrett huddled before me, another casualty of my words and now my fists.
I fall to my butt and the words that I want to say are trapped in my throat, refusing egress. Garrett body is blurry now, the tears effectively blinding my sight. My mind is a jumble of thoughts interconnecting yet never falling into place, only swirling and congealing within the recesses of my conscious and subconscious, darkening the already putrid waters that is me. What have I become?
"Buffy…" the voice barely registers through the cloud of emotion and I glance around, looking for the source of it when two hands cup my face.
"Buffy." It's Garrett. His hoarse voice murmurs my name and I focus on the gentle face in front of me. I'm taken aback at the crooked smile on his face and my fingertips graze his rapidly swelling jaw. The sight of it makes me want to cry more but his palms against my cheeks calms my nerves and I take several deep breaths and the tension bleeds away with each exhalation. Gaining my composure, I gently move his hands from my face and let them drop between us. There is so much that I want to tell him, so much I want to apologize for but I have no idea where to start.
"I'm sorry," I say and we both laugh at the simplicity of it.
"You should be," he chuckles and I can see him hiding his hurt and anger about what just happened, "for almost breaking my jaw."
"God, Garrett," I wail and throw my arms around him, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," I repeat until the syllables bleed together into a stagnant verse of incoherence. Finally, after several more minutes of babbling, I assemble the courage to look at him. Our faces are only inches apart and the intensity of everything slithers through my body, an electrical current of so many emotions.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper and lift a trembling hand to inspect the damage I've caused. He kindly brushes my hand away before locking his eyes to mine.
"How could you, Buffy?" The sorrow in his voice threatens to drown me and I choke back a sob. "How could you--with Spike?"
"Garrett, I…" Come on, Buff, you can do it. "It's not what you think."
"Not what I think?" He laughs and there is no emotion to it. "Okay, then what is it then?"
"I…I didn't sleep with Spike," I tell him and his eyes narrow, searching my face for the truth. It only takes a moment before his relief beams at me.
"You didn't—didn't sleep with him?" I shake my head, too exhausted to speak for the moment. "But I asked you and you…"
"Didn't answer?" I smile understandingly but it quickly fades as I think what would have happened if it were up to me. "I know," I lower my head in shame, unable, for the countless time today, to look Garrett in the eye.
"But if you didn't sleep with him, then why—why let me think you did?" His words are marred with confusion and accusation and I know I deserve the latter.
"Because," I sigh and lift my chin up, "even though I didn't sleep with him I…" what do I say? Let him get me off? Wanted him so deep inside of me that he'd never get out? That Spike was the one who broke it up? None of those really sounds like options though the third choice will be the least painful. I hope.
Taking another deep breath, I make eye contact again and this time I refuse to look away. "Even though we didn't sleep together, we did do…things."
"Things?" He frowns. "What kind of things?"
"We—we kissed." He stiffens visibly before composing himself.
"Is that all?" His tone is emotionless though its undercurrent pleads for me to answer it with a no but I can't lie to him, not after all he's been to me.
"Yes—I mean no…I mean…"
"Which is it, Buffy? Yes or no?"
"No, that's not all," I bite my lip to keep from looking away. I decide to tell him the surrounding details of my unfaithfulness if only to soften the blow. "We had this fight and I ran away, as usual. Spike had said—something that made me mad and I wanted to get away before I hit him." The way I stumble over my words is a dead giveaway to the white lie though Garrett doesn't take notice. Well, either that or he's just being polite.
"Anyway, when he found me, I didn't let him try to explain and he did what I always used to do to him when I didn't want to hear the truth he was telling me."
"He kissed you." I nod and Garrett's eyes darken a fraction and I know he's thinking that Spike took advantage of me.
"Yeah, he did. But he also pulled away and apologized. He was about to walk away when I—when I kissed him."
"So after he kissed you and apologized, you—what? —Kissed him again?" He's not too happy about that and I don't blame him. Hell, if he did something like that, I sure as hell wouldn't be as calm as he so is.
"Yeah, I did. It got pretty intense and if…" My words taper off and I don't know exactly how to finish up.
"How intense?" He takes several deep breaths and it's the telltale sign of someone desperately trying to maintain control.
"Very," I whisper. "If…if it wasn't for Spike, we would have…" I trail off again and this time I do drop my eyes. Garrett's hand squeezing mine is uncomfortable but I don't think he even realizes it. After several seconds, the pressure diffuses and we fall into silence.
"Do you love him?" He asks a good while later, his voice straining with pain. I want to lie to him, tell him no, that he is the only person for me. But then I remember how lying to others and myself got me and Spike into such a destructive relationship. Spike's words from the night before filters into my mind; he had said never to be ashamed about what I feel, never to lie to others or to myself about my feelings and I realize that I do have to tell Garrett the truth.
"Yes."
His lip is quivering when he speaks to me again yet his voice does not waver in the least. "Does he know?"
"No, but Garrett—"
"What?"
"I love you, too." He offers me a genuine smile that dies too prematurely before replying.
"Yeah, I know."
"But Spike," I falter, not knowing what to say so I fall back on old Buffy. "I love Spike like I love Angel, except that me and Spike are friends, where Angel and I never will be. That's how I love him."
Garrett chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head. I frown at him, wondering what's so damn funny and open my lips to ask him but he beats me to it.
"Do you love me, Buffy? I mean really love me?" His words are strong yet they sound tired, defeated.
"Of course I love you," I respond irritated, "I just told you that…"
"Then don't lie to me," he barks his voice as hard as his features. But as suddenly the anger appeared, it dissolves and he looks at me with the love that has comforted and warmed me the better part of these last two years.
"I know you love me, Buffy, I do. That's why I don't want you to lie to me," he takes my hand in both of his and stares at me with an intensity that rivals Spike and I shiver at the openness he's looking at me with.
"But more important than that Buffy," he smiles fondly at me and it lights a flame within me, "is that you don't lie to yourself." His words shake me to the core and I reflexively pull away while Garrett just smiles serenely at me. Am I that transparent where people know exactly what I'm thinking? God, I hope not. If so, that doesn't bode well for the whole slayage thing.
I open my mouth to speak but he quiets me with a chaste kiss. I lean into his body but just as quickly as he did it; he pulls away with a sad smile on his face.
"Now," he says and strokes my cheek, "I'm going to ask you again. Do you love him?"
My first reaction is to rant but his eyes broker no arguments and I know I'll be forced to tell him the truth.
I just don't know if I'm ready to find out what it is just yet.
***
Buffy pulled up to Revello Drive ninety minutes after everyone else had left. Has it only been that long? She asked as she cut the engine and exited the car. She walked to the door, the concrete cool on her shoeless feet. She had discarded the heels before driving away from Garrett, tired of the confining fit of the shoes. As she reached the door, Buffy hesitated before opening and was content to stare at her sparkling toe nail polish, barely visible in the shadowy porch, despite the light being on outside. Running a hand through her hair and wiping her eyes one last time, Buffy slid the key home and turned it, unlocking the door. Here goes nothing, she thought before pushing the door open.
"Dawn? Spike?" She whispered in the darkness of the living room. She tiptoed throughout the first floor and, seeing no sign of the two, the slayer peeked out the backdoor. The back light shone through the curtains of the window and Buffy smiled when she saw the two figures huddled together on the steps. Not wanting to disturb them, she made her exit, bounding noiselessly up the steps.
Ten minutes later, she was dressed for bed, feeling more relaxed than she had all day. She lay in bed, hands linked behind her head, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't help but smile at the weight of indecision that had been lifted from her chest. It was a welcoming feeling. She had made her choice and it…
As her thoughts returned to the choice she made, unbidden tears welled in her eyes. She laughed bitterly before a choked sob broke from her lips. How could everything change so quickly? She had made her decision--well, sort of--didn't she? So why did it feel like a part of her was missing? Why did it feel like she had been ripped from heaven again? She had no answers for that as the tears flowed again and Buffy buried her head in her pillow, hoping to drown out the uncontrollable sobs contorting her petite frame. It wasn't until two familiar forms enveloped her in warmth and love that her sobs trickled off. The last coherent thought that Buffy had was that, yes, she did make a decision. Whether or not it was the final one, she had no idea. But one thing was certain and that was that sooner or later she would have to make up her mind wholly and completely. After tonight, the only certainty she had was that, no matter what she decided, she, Garrett and Spike would all be hurt by it. She could only pray that the person standing by her when everything was said and done would be strong enough to hold the both of them together.
****Well, next chapter is the Dawn/Spike conversation followed by Graduation Day. There will be no giant demon ex-mayors involved with this one.
****The next three-four chapters will be decidedly less angsty than this one though no less involving. I know I was mean about not telling you what Buffy's decision was but you'll find out soon enough.