Two To Tango
Chapter Six: Looking For Trouble
She was sick of the tiny motel room. She had toyed with the idea of going out for a coffee, maybe giving Tara a call on her cell. She decided against that idea though as she knew she would only end up spilling the entire story to her and she didn't want to ruin her educational trip thing or whatever it was. She had also thought about going to Buffy's. She thought if she spoke to her, tried to see what happened, what led to the two of them… But she soon put a lid on that idea.
Anyway, Spike hadn't tried to understand why she slept with Xander. Why should she try and understand? As far as she was concerned, it was over. She still had her job and any day now she would have a nice apartment of her own. And she had her friends, Willow was nice and Tara was her best friend.
No she isn't, Anya thought suddenly. She was our best friend. And anyway, she'll probably side with Spike; they're closer after all.
Then the glorious idea of just leaving entered her head. She could go to LA, she had considered it her first night in the motel but now it was close. So rich with promise she could almost taste it. She could go to Angel Investigations. According to Spike, the filing system was a complete nightmare and everyone was pretty friendly. She could be their receptionist. She was very good with paperwork and if there was one thing she did know, it was her demons, legends and myths.
But what good had running away done her before? She had just sat in a motel in the middle of nowhere for days on end and missed Xander, her shop, her life. So she had decided against running away.
Instead, she decided to dance.
He was sick of the apartment. Someone like him shouldn't be cooped up. He should be out. He had grabbed his coat and cigarettes and pulled the door open, intending to go to the Bronze.
Then he remembered how spectacularly wrong that went last time.
He gulped hard and looked over toward his room. For the first time, he had Buffy how he wanted her. Except he wanted her like that a long time ago. Before Anya. He took a moment to marvel at how monumentally bad his luck was. Just when he was happy, his girl went and screwed a whelp and the woman he loved a while back suddenly seemed to not actually mind shagging him.
He lit a cigarette and leaned back against a table pushed against the wall. There was a small chink as the vase of flowers tilted back. He stood away and looked at the table.
"God, this hallway's dreary! Couldn't you two liven it up….? Oh, that doesn't matter, Tara. Look! I got flowers!"
In front of the flowers, arranged artfully to one side, was a medium sized brown frame. Inside it was a receipt from the Magic Box.
"The first one I ever rang up."
He leaned against the wall opposite and slid down the wall. The flowers had started to wilt pretty soon after she left. He'd tried water, even some of that stuff she poured in the water to keep them alive a bit longer. Nothing had worked and he hadn't the heart to throw them out. He wasn't exactly surprised they lost their will to live. He was dead man, what experience did he have in keeping things alive? He killed, he didn't nurture. Probably why she left you, mate.
He sighed and pulled his knees up. He put his arms up on his knees and leaned his head against the thumb of the hand that held his cigarette, the smoke curling up above his head.
He had succeeded in driving her scent out of the apartment. All he could smell now was alcohol, smoke and the heavy scent of sex. He couldn't even smell her if he concentrated hard on it. It was too late now though to realise he wanted that scent. Too late now because he had gotton rid of it through his own stupidity.
He lifted his head and drew on his cigarette. The phone jolted him back to life and he jumped, reaching blindly to pull himself up and grab the phone off the wall in the kitchen.
"What?"
"Spike? You ok?"
"Oh, it's you, Glinda."
"I just wondered if you had found Anya. I'm on the bus now, I'll be home in a couple of hours. I was going to ask if you two wanted to go out with Willow and I."
"Nah."
"Why not? Oh, don't tell me. Make up snuggles?"
"No."
"What? Spike, what's going on?"
"Nothing you need to worry about, love. She's all right, I found her at Xander's. She hurt her arm the other night, but I think Will can fill you in on that front as I'm off out."
"Xander's? What was she doing there?"
"Ask her."
"Spike, what are you -"
"Sorry, pet, gotta go. I'm due for a game of kitten poker and the rent's due so I need to get there early. I'll see ya tomorrow, all right, Glinda?"
"Sure, Spike. I'll call Anya and ask if she wants to stop by."
"You do that. Bye."
"Bye."
He slammed the phone back into the wall and grabbed his stake.
He was a dead man. He couldn't keep things alive.
Good job that patrolling didn't require keeping the nasties alive.
She was sick of the Bronze.
She wanted to go home.
Which, obviously, she couldn't do because she didn't have one anymore.
She had come to dance, but instead she had sat at the bar and stared around at the tables, wondering which one they sat at. She looked at the dance floor, wondering where Buffy and Spike had stood to bump 'n' grind. But what if the music was soft and romantic, just how close did they hold each other?
She shuddered and stood up from her table. She was going back to the motel. Sitting and crying was more fun than sitting here and thinking.
She pushed through the crowd and was near the door when she heard her name.
"Anya! Anya, wait!"
She turned slowly and looked at Willow who stood a few feet away, nibbling her lip and twisting her fingers.
"Hi, Willow," Anya said, her voice making it quite clear that she wasn't pleased to see her.
"How… Um, how are you?" Willow asked, eyeing her warily.
Anya's stomach lurched. Why was Willow looking at her like that? It was almost like she didn't trust her. But why should Willow trust her? Anya had slept with her best friend and slapped her other best friend. And she knew Willow had acquired a certain affection for Spike since she and Tara got back together. She also knew, she had known for a long time, that she wasn't Willow's favourite person. So why should Willow trust her? Why should she care? Why should anyone anymore? Anya looked beyond Willow and saw Buffy watching discreetly from a table.
"I'm fine," Anya said. "No thanks to her."
Willow winced and reached out to rub Anya's arm. She flinched away and glowered at Willow.
"Leave me alone. She's your friend. Not me."
"No, Anya, you're both…"
"Goodbye, Willow," Anya said loudly and turned on her heel, pushing out of the heat of the club into the cool night air.
She walked down the street towards home and jumped when her cell phone jangled into life. Grabbing it out of her pocket, she answered it and greeted her caller with a snappish "Hello?"
"It's me, Anya."
"Oh," Anya's voice softened. "Hi, Tara."
"I've just got home. No one's in and I wondered if you wanted to come over and have a chat. Y'know, catch up. A lot can happen in the five days I've been away, especially on the Hellmouth. So…?"
"Sure. Ok. I'll see you in a while," Anya's voice was flat and she was sure Tara noticed, but she didn't say anything.
"Great. I'll see you, Anya."
"Bye, Tara."
Anya put her cell phone back into her pocket and turned into a cemetery as a short cut. The screwed up logic of walking in a graveyard in the middle of the night on the Hellmouth didn't really occur to her. And if it did, she didn't seem to care.
Spike glowered at shadows, trees, and gravestones. Where were the demons? Where was the evil? Right now, the only thing that was keeping him going was the fact that he could kill something. He craved violence. He needed to slash something to pieces, dust something or snap a neck. God, he wanted to snap a neck. Feel the demon tremble in the moment of knowing it had lost the fight before his hands moved and the neck crumbled along with the demon.
But of course, when you go looking for trouble, you rarely find it. He idly let his mind wander, figuring if he let his guard drop, something would pop up. Stupid thing to do, really. Now all he could think about was seeing Anya and Xander. Then his mind filled with his night with Buffy. A night so different from their other nights. That night she actually seemed to care, actually seemed to want him. She didn't leave either, something Anya noticed.
"Don't tell me that meant nothing to you, Spike, because she didn't leave, she stayed and slept in your arms!"
He shuddered and sighed, running a hand over his hair.
Ahead of him, he heard the slow crunch of someone walking over the grass towards him. A smile caught the edges of his lips and he twirled his stake, swaggering toward the sound.
He froze when he saw the petite blonde in pink. Her head lifted and her eyes sparkled for a second before they dulled down and her mouth drew into an aggrieved pout.
"You and Buffy broke up already?" she asked coldly.
"What about you and Xander?" he sneered in return. "He left you again?"
"We were never an item, Spike!" she shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"How many times do I have to tell you that I slept with Buffy because I was drunk? How many times do I have to say it didn't mean anything?"
"Me and Xander didn't mean anything! You didn't believe me then, why should I believe you now?"
"You started this, Anya!"
"No, you started this, Spike! You didn't even care that you upset me when you said you wouldn't turn me! You just pushed me away! You never loved me, did you? You were just with me because Buffy didn't want you! Because she never wanted you!"
"Oh, and Xander did, did he? He left you at the altar because he loved you so very much. He didn't come to find you afterwards because he cared. I came after you with Tara because I couldn't give a damn. When are you gonna grow up and see things how they really are?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped.
"It's supposed to mean I can't believe I've been with you this long!"
She resisted the urge to press her hand to her mouth to prevent herself being sick. He didn't just say that. He did not just say that.
"You bastard!" she screamed, tears raining down her face. "I knew it! You never cared about me! Ever! You asshole! I loved you so much and for some stupid reason, I still do! You were everything to me! You still are everything to me, if you weren't, it wouldn't hurt like this! I don't know why I wasted the last few months on you of all people, when you're not even a person!"
"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you?" he retorted, his voice wavering slightly after her screamed confession. "This is what I mean, Anya! You really know how to break a guy, don't you? I had to get with the one woman in the world who knows a man's weaknesses and doesn't care about going for 'em. That's why you slept with Xander, to teach me a lesson! And you're wrong! I do love you. I love you like I've never loved anyone, but I can't stand to be near you! That's what you've done! So, I hurt you! I apologised. But you started this! All of this is because you couldn't have your own goddamned way!"
"Don't you blame me! If you hadn't made such a big deal out of me asking you to turn me, this wouldn't have happened!"
"No! If you had made the effort to understand why I couldn't turn you instead of leaping into Harris's arms, this wouldn't be happening! We wouldn't be here!" he dropped his head, fighting the sickening sensation of tears that churned in his gut. He swallowed hard and looked up, meeting her eyes, watching the tears continue to wind their way down her cheeks. He sighed and shook his head. "Just… Just go back to your motel, Anya. Leave me alone. Let's call this the end. I don't want to fight with you anymore. I don't want any of this anyone. This is it, Anya, it's really over."
"Spike," she started, wanting desperately to make him change his mind. "You… You want this over?"
"I want this over. The fighting. I just want all of it to go away."
"You want me to go away too?" her voice was soft, making him gulp hard.
"Anya, I…" he took a few steps toward her, his hand outstretched, stopping just inches of cupping her cheek. He swallowed, coughed self-consciously and dropped his hand. "I'll miss you, Sunshine."
She stared and him as he turned around and began to walk away.
She watched him go. She would always remember the look in those eyes when he said he'd miss her. She would always remember the pain she felt at that moment, mainly because she wasn't sure the pain would ever stop and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to cope with it. She could hardly breathe, the force of her tears was choking her. Her legs shook, but somehow, she didn't have the energy to allow herself to crumble beneath the weight of her sorrow.
When she finally saw him leave the cemetery, she started slowly in the direction of the Summers' house to see Tara.
"Oh, Anya," Tara wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder as Anya wailed. "That happened tonight?"
"Yeah, before I came here. Tara, it's really over. That's it. No more me and Spike."
"Ssshhh, Anya, it's ok. It'll be ok. You want to stay here tonight?"
"What? No!" Anya pushed away from her. "No way! I'm not staying anywhere near her!"
"Ok, ok. Well, do you want me to stay with you tonight?"
"No, no, you don't have to do that."
The phone broke shrilly through their conversation and Tara hurried to answer it.
"Hello, Summers' residence."
"Hey, Tara. It's me, Dawn. Look, I snuck out to see if Spike was all right, ok? Is Anya still there?"
"What? Yes, she is. What did you think you were -"
"Sssshhh! Get her out of the room, Tara! I've got a plan."
"Oh, right," covering the phone, Tara turned to smile at Anya. "It's a friend of mine, Anya. Why don't you go get a drink and wait for me in the kitchen? I'll try and get rid of her."
Anya nodded and wandered into the kitchen with a loud sniff.
"Dawn? She's gone. You know you're gonna be grounded when you get home, right?"
"Don't worry about that now! We have to get them back together, Tara. Look, can you get Anya to the apartment in about… fifteen minutes?"
"Um, I don't know… What am I supposed to tell her?"
"Tell her…. Tell her you'll go with her to get the last of her things."
"Ok. What are you gonna do?"
"Meet you there with Spike."
"Oh. I see. Well, I'll see in fifteen minutes then."
"Yeah. Thanks for this, Tara."
"Don't worry about it. But this doesn't mean I've forgotten about the grounding."
"Yeah, yeah. Bye then."
"Bye."
Tara replaced the receiver and nibbled her lip. This really wasn't going to work. She was no good at this sort of thing. She took a deep breath and entered the kitchen.
"Hey, Anya? How about we go get the last of your things from the apartment? Y'know, make a nice clean break?"
"You think I should?"
"I'll go with you, nothing bad will happen."
"You promise?"
"I promise," Tara answered, crossing her fingers behind her back.
