When Spike Met Buffy
Chapter 15:
Spike fidgeted nervously. He was desperate for a smoke and the ceremony hadn't even kicked off yet. Oz stood next to him, staring at the doors that Willow would be walking through any second. The shorter man was the essence of cool, however, and Spike made every effort not to make him more anxious by displaying his own restlessness. But damn, did he want a cigarette. The church was packed full of family, friends, and co-workers of the soon-to-be newlyweds, and Spike felt as if he was on display in the modified tuxedo he wore. Oz had been kind enough to forego the coattails and the cummerbund, but it was still an insufferable ensemble; after all, it was a far cry from his normal tee shirt and jeans.
The woman at the organ started the first chords of "Here Comes The Bride", and Spike's gaze immediately shot to the doors at the back of the church. He knew Buffy would be coming through first, and that was the source of his anxiety. He hadn't seen her in almost five months and had missed her like mad. He was positive that she didn't feel the same way, however, and was not looking forward to her avoidance of him.
Sure enough, the doors opened, and Buffy appeared at the head of the wedding procession, followed by Willow and her father. Spike's throat went dry as he watched her walk slowly up the aisle. Her blonde tresses were done up in a loose French twist, with tendrils curling down to frame her face. Flowers were woven through her hair and there was a shimmer on her skin, making her look positively angelic. Her dress was a soft cloud blue, sleeveless with a tight bodice. The fabric that made up the skirt flowed from the waist down to just below her ankles, and as she took her place with the bridesmaids on the other side of the steps, he could see that the back was made up of loosely laced straps of the same material. She was a vision, plain and simple.
He caught her looking at him as openly as he was she, and their gazes locked. Then, as suddenly as she had met his eyes, she looked away. He felt a palpable loss, followed swiftly by barely contained anger. What the hell was her problem?
As the priest and the rabbi began their joined efforts in uniting the couple, Spike made up his mind that Buffy would not get the chance to run from him at the reception.
You and I are gonna have a confrontation, pet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He caught up to her just outside the entrance to the dining hall where the reception was being held. She didn't acknowledge his presence, just continued to stare out at the evening sky. She seemed transfixed by the stars. He felt almost guilty at disturbing her peace, but reasoned that she'd had about five months of peace.
"Hello, pet."
She didn't look at him. "Hi."
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Nice ceremony, wasn't it?"
"Beautiful." No emotion, or even a glance from her as she spoke.
He tried another tactic. "How've you been, lately?"
She shrugged, still looking skyward. "Fine."
"How are things with that Scott Hope fellow Willow tells me you've been dating?"
"Spike," she interrupted, finally meeting his eyes. "I don't want to talk. Go away." She walked off away from the entrance to the building.
He followed her. "Why? Is it because of what happened between us?" He couldn't keep the anger from his tone.
"Drop it, Spike. Just find an elsewhere to be," she snapped back at him as she continued walking off.
"You know, I don't think I will, pet. I think it's time you and I had this out like adults, don't you?" He grabbed her by the elbow and whirled her around to face him. "Been a long time since we had a little heart to heart, wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, Spike," she rejoined, dripping false sweetness with her tone, "we've had so many heart-to-heart chats that you should know pretty well by now what I'd say anyway."
"True," he acknowledged, "but that was before you developed a rather large stick up that pretty little ass of yours." He smirked. "Believe me, wasn't there when I last had the opportunity to look."
She slapped him. "You're a pig, Spike."
"Find some new insults, luv," he snarked, pulling her over to a park bench and sitting her down next to him. "That one's getting old."
She simply stared at him and crossed her arms. "I have nothing to say to you."
He threw up his hands, looking heavenward for assistance. "Bloody hell! What the fuck is your problem? First we have the most incredible night, then you practically chase me out the door the next morning, saying it was a mistake. Now you won't speak to me! What the hell did I do to deserve this, eh?"
She said nothing.
He raked a hand through his hair, causing the gel to loosen and allow a few unruly platinum curls to spring forward. "Say you're right, luv. Say it was a mistake. How long are we gonna carry this around and let it get between us? Forever?"
Buffy turned on him with fire in her eyes. "Forever? It just happened!"
"Five months ago!" he insisted. "You haven't spoken to me since then! Frankly, I'm getting rather brassed off and tired of it."
"Oh, so now you're saying that the sex was great, hooray. Now let's go back to the way things were as if it didn't mean anything?" She shot from her seat and began pacing.
"I'm not saying it didn't mean anything! You're the one that said that! But why does it have to mean everything? Why does it have to stand between us like this?" He flicked his spent cigarette into the grass, preparing to pull another from the pack.
"Because it does! But the second it happens, you run for the door." She stormed off in the direction of the dining hall.
He followed her, now completely irate. "I ran? You practically chased me out the bloody apartment! Kept telling me it was a mistake, and not answering the fucking telephone!"
Buffy kept walking. "It was a mistake. Obviously the worst mistake I ever made."
Spike did his best to keep up with her as they neared the entrance. They entered the building at a furious pace, attracting stares from the other reception guests. He ignored them. "How the hell do you expect me to act with you, now, Buffy?"
They reached the doors to the dining hall, stopping briefly as she turned and stabbed a finger in his chest. "I don't. Okay? Don't act anyway around me, don't be around me!"
He narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Okay, fine. Have it your way, pet. But let's get one thing straight: I did not go over to your flat that night to take advantage of you. You jumped me, remember? I mean, what's a bloke supposed to do, what with your big weepy eyes, runny nose and 'Oh, hold me a bit longer, Spike'?"
Buffy's eyes widened in shocked anger. "So what, you're saying that you took pity on me? Fuck you!" She slapped him hard across the face before storming into the dining hall.
He stomped in after her. "Sorry, luv, been there, done that. Let me know when they come out with a T-shirt so I can add it to the collection." His voice trailed off when he noticed everyone staring at them, including Oz and Willow.
Oz had his glass raised and, unruffled, continued his toast. ".And to Spike and Buffy. If Willow or I had found either of them remotely interesting, we wouldn't be together today. Thanks, guys." He raised his glass in mock- salute to Spike, who stood there fuming in anger at Buffy.
Buffy, for her part, was equally irate, but when she turned to face him, he could see something else behind her eyes. Something he had missed before.
Wistfulness and sorrow.
He felt like an utter ass as she turned and disappeared from sight.
Chapter 15:
Spike fidgeted nervously. He was desperate for a smoke and the ceremony hadn't even kicked off yet. Oz stood next to him, staring at the doors that Willow would be walking through any second. The shorter man was the essence of cool, however, and Spike made every effort not to make him more anxious by displaying his own restlessness. But damn, did he want a cigarette. The church was packed full of family, friends, and co-workers of the soon-to-be newlyweds, and Spike felt as if he was on display in the modified tuxedo he wore. Oz had been kind enough to forego the coattails and the cummerbund, but it was still an insufferable ensemble; after all, it was a far cry from his normal tee shirt and jeans.
The woman at the organ started the first chords of "Here Comes The Bride", and Spike's gaze immediately shot to the doors at the back of the church. He knew Buffy would be coming through first, and that was the source of his anxiety. He hadn't seen her in almost five months and had missed her like mad. He was positive that she didn't feel the same way, however, and was not looking forward to her avoidance of him.
Sure enough, the doors opened, and Buffy appeared at the head of the wedding procession, followed by Willow and her father. Spike's throat went dry as he watched her walk slowly up the aisle. Her blonde tresses were done up in a loose French twist, with tendrils curling down to frame her face. Flowers were woven through her hair and there was a shimmer on her skin, making her look positively angelic. Her dress was a soft cloud blue, sleeveless with a tight bodice. The fabric that made up the skirt flowed from the waist down to just below her ankles, and as she took her place with the bridesmaids on the other side of the steps, he could see that the back was made up of loosely laced straps of the same material. She was a vision, plain and simple.
He caught her looking at him as openly as he was she, and their gazes locked. Then, as suddenly as she had met his eyes, she looked away. He felt a palpable loss, followed swiftly by barely contained anger. What the hell was her problem?
As the priest and the rabbi began their joined efforts in uniting the couple, Spike made up his mind that Buffy would not get the chance to run from him at the reception.
You and I are gonna have a confrontation, pet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He caught up to her just outside the entrance to the dining hall where the reception was being held. She didn't acknowledge his presence, just continued to stare out at the evening sky. She seemed transfixed by the stars. He felt almost guilty at disturbing her peace, but reasoned that she'd had about five months of peace.
"Hello, pet."
She didn't look at him. "Hi."
He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Nice ceremony, wasn't it?"
"Beautiful." No emotion, or even a glance from her as she spoke.
He tried another tactic. "How've you been, lately?"
She shrugged, still looking skyward. "Fine."
"How are things with that Scott Hope fellow Willow tells me you've been dating?"
"Spike," she interrupted, finally meeting his eyes. "I don't want to talk. Go away." She walked off away from the entrance to the building.
He followed her. "Why? Is it because of what happened between us?" He couldn't keep the anger from his tone.
"Drop it, Spike. Just find an elsewhere to be," she snapped back at him as she continued walking off.
"You know, I don't think I will, pet. I think it's time you and I had this out like adults, don't you?" He grabbed her by the elbow and whirled her around to face him. "Been a long time since we had a little heart to heart, wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, Spike," she rejoined, dripping false sweetness with her tone, "we've had so many heart-to-heart chats that you should know pretty well by now what I'd say anyway."
"True," he acknowledged, "but that was before you developed a rather large stick up that pretty little ass of yours." He smirked. "Believe me, wasn't there when I last had the opportunity to look."
She slapped him. "You're a pig, Spike."
"Find some new insults, luv," he snarked, pulling her over to a park bench and sitting her down next to him. "That one's getting old."
She simply stared at him and crossed her arms. "I have nothing to say to you."
He threw up his hands, looking heavenward for assistance. "Bloody hell! What the fuck is your problem? First we have the most incredible night, then you practically chase me out the door the next morning, saying it was a mistake. Now you won't speak to me! What the hell did I do to deserve this, eh?"
She said nothing.
He raked a hand through his hair, causing the gel to loosen and allow a few unruly platinum curls to spring forward. "Say you're right, luv. Say it was a mistake. How long are we gonna carry this around and let it get between us? Forever?"
Buffy turned on him with fire in her eyes. "Forever? It just happened!"
"Five months ago!" he insisted. "You haven't spoken to me since then! Frankly, I'm getting rather brassed off and tired of it."
"Oh, so now you're saying that the sex was great, hooray. Now let's go back to the way things were as if it didn't mean anything?" She shot from her seat and began pacing.
"I'm not saying it didn't mean anything! You're the one that said that! But why does it have to mean everything? Why does it have to stand between us like this?" He flicked his spent cigarette into the grass, preparing to pull another from the pack.
"Because it does! But the second it happens, you run for the door." She stormed off in the direction of the dining hall.
He followed her, now completely irate. "I ran? You practically chased me out the bloody apartment! Kept telling me it was a mistake, and not answering the fucking telephone!"
Buffy kept walking. "It was a mistake. Obviously the worst mistake I ever made."
Spike did his best to keep up with her as they neared the entrance. They entered the building at a furious pace, attracting stares from the other reception guests. He ignored them. "How the hell do you expect me to act with you, now, Buffy?"
They reached the doors to the dining hall, stopping briefly as she turned and stabbed a finger in his chest. "I don't. Okay? Don't act anyway around me, don't be around me!"
He narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Okay, fine. Have it your way, pet. But let's get one thing straight: I did not go over to your flat that night to take advantage of you. You jumped me, remember? I mean, what's a bloke supposed to do, what with your big weepy eyes, runny nose and 'Oh, hold me a bit longer, Spike'?"
Buffy's eyes widened in shocked anger. "So what, you're saying that you took pity on me? Fuck you!" She slapped him hard across the face before storming into the dining hall.
He stomped in after her. "Sorry, luv, been there, done that. Let me know when they come out with a T-shirt so I can add it to the collection." His voice trailed off when he noticed everyone staring at them, including Oz and Willow.
Oz had his glass raised and, unruffled, continued his toast. ".And to Spike and Buffy. If Willow or I had found either of them remotely interesting, we wouldn't be together today. Thanks, guys." He raised his glass in mock- salute to Spike, who stood there fuming in anger at Buffy.
Buffy, for her part, was equally irate, but when she turned to face him, he could see something else behind her eyes. Something he had missed before.
Wistfulness and sorrow.
He felt like an utter ass as she turned and disappeared from sight.
