Hard Choices: Chapter 2
Spike hurried his way out of the apartment, desperate to make it back to his crypt and the bottle of Jack Daniels that was calling his name. After doing what he'd done, which he was trying hard not to think about, he felt he deserved one last night of mindless drunkenness. Once Xander was awake, he was fairly certain time to himself would be a luxury. His hands clenched and unclenched, hanging down by his sides, due to the tension building inside his body at the thought of Xander Harris the vampire. Childe of Spike. God did he hate the sound of that.
He stopped rapidly when he reached the door to his home. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, shaking his head in annoyance. Putting his hand up to touch the door, he took a deep breath. He could feel her. He could always feel her. Why didn't she just leave when she realized he wasn't there? He didn't know how to deal with her right now. Didn't know if he could hide the turmoil he was feeling. As he stood debating whether or not to stick it out or high tail it in the other direction, Buffy unknowingly decided for him and opened the door.
"Spike," she spoke casually.
"So you waited then?" He strolled past her, trying not to catch her eyes, sure the look in his own would give away his foul mood.
"Yeah, I waited. I was surprised you weren't here."
"Went out for a bit. You know.... a little late night carnage to work up the appetite, so to speak."
"I don't have a lot of time. Dawn's home alone. I felt kinda bad about leaving her there and sneaking out in the middle of the night."
He found the courage to finally catch her gaze. "Then why did you?" He reached for the coveted bottle of booze that he kept on top of the refrigerator and plopped down into the comfort of the only chair he owned. "That desperate for a shag, slayer?"
Buffy shrugged and moved closer, oblivious to the snide remark. "Just felt like being with you."
He eyed her wearily. "That's new."
"Spike. I've been doing some thinking lately. Well, the last couple of days anyway."
The bottle found his lips and the liquid slid down, warming his throat as it went.
"I don't like the way things are. With us."
"There is no 'us', remember?" The remark came off a little more sarcastic than he intended, and he immediately wanted to take it back. Instead, he buried more of the bottle.
"I'm sorry." She paced the floor in front of him and then moved closer, resting on her knees on the floor directly in front of the chair. "I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you."
His eyebrow arched in a bedazzled expression, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion.
"I've been showing up here anytime I feel like it, expecting you to. well, drop everything and make me happy. I've been using you, even knowing how you feel about me. And I know it's not fair."
"Buffy...."
"Let me finish before I chicken out, okay? I know it's not fair to you because I know you want more."
"Not really complainin' here, luv."
"And that's exactly what I thought you'd say. Figured you were getting something out of it and something was better than nothing, right?"
"Still not getting your point here."
She took a deep breath, pushing her courage out as she exhaled. "I want more too, Spike. What we have, what we've been doing, it's not right and it's not enough. It makes me feel something for a little while but then it's over and afterward I feel even emptier inside."
Spike's eyes dropped, afraid of showing her the disappointment hiding behind them. He pushed past her, standing up from the chair, and took another long swig from the bottle. How could this night get any worse? He felt the anger boiling but was powerless against the feeling.
"I get it, slayer. Fun while it lasted, yeah? Nice knowing you, see you around some time!?" He washed the bitterness down with the rest of the Jack and discarded the empty bottle where it dropped. He turned and stumbled to his makeshift bed, pushing the heavy stone lid aside. His hands fumbled shakily, searching for another bottle of hidden liquid numbness. He froze when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
"You're not listening to me, Spike."
"I'm hearing you loud and clear, slayer."
"I'm saying I want more than just sex from you. I want the whole package. I want the friendship and the sharing and I want to be able to tell my friends. I don't want to have to feel like I'm keeping a dirty secret. Because I realized something. You're not. You're more than that."
He closed his eyes, pushing back the tears of happiness threatening to leak out. His hands gripped the edge of the sarcophagus as he gritted his teeth.
"Don't say it if you don't mean it, Buffy. Not in the mood for mind games."
"No games this time, Spike."
He heard a small sigh of breath from behind him and felt her hand leave his shoulder.
"I'm tired. It's always been a game between us. Who can out best the other. Hell, you're a vampire, I'm a slayer. We shouldn't even be having this conversation. But here we are. And you've never left."
"I love you."
"I know. I finally figured that out."
Small, warm hands slid around his waste to connect at his stomach. He felt her breath on the back of his neck when she leaned her body against his. "Are you ready to come out of hiding?"
He turned, unsuccessful in pushing back the tears this time, and met her face to face. "It's all I've ever dreamt about."
She smiled, reaching up to capture his lips in a kiss tenderer than he'd ever remember.
"Spike!"
He blinked.
"Spike! Wake up!"
He was confused, trying to hold onto the kiss a little longer, but was shaken out of it too abruptly. He reluctantly opened his eyes.
"God, Spike. I've been trying to get you up for five minutes!" Buffy glanced down at the bottle between his legs. "How much of that did you drink?!"
He shook his head, trying to sort out the confusion. "Not enough, apparently."
"I came by earlier and you weren't here. What were you doing?"
"Getting drunk," he replied sarcastically. He looked around the crypt, remembering when he'd returned to the empty space. Doing exactly what was on his agenda for the evening, he'd managed to drown himself into a nice, peaceful oblivion.
"What's wrong with you? You're all grouchy vampire."
"Bad night," he grumbled, taking the lid off the bottle and chugging a swallow. His hand reached for his cigarettes and came up empty when he realized he'd left his duster at Xander's apartment.
"Yeah, well, nothing like the night I've had, I bet." She slid into the chair as she spoke, casually shifting positions to straddle his lap. "Willow moped and moped all night about Tara, who by the way is still not speaking to her which is driving everyone crazy." She wrapped her hand around his neck and began caressing the short hairs around his ear. "Dawn's teacher sent a note saying she wants a meeting, which from my own personal experience can never be a good thing." She moved in closer, wiggling her hips against his crotch. "And if I ever have to eat another doublemeat burger, I think I might just kill myself and get it over with. Or let you have your one good day." Her free hand snaked its way down and began fumbling with the buckle of his belt.
His eyes narrowed and he reached out to grab the offending hand. "What are you doing?"
She met his eyes, giving a look full of surprise. "What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm doing.....this." She dropped her eyes and motioned between them as if it was the most natural thing for her to be undoing his belt.
"Why?" he asked.
More confusion. "I've had a bad day, thought we could...."
"Oh. Of course. Should have known." He took one last gulp from the bottle and tossed it over the side of the chair. "What's your pleasure tonight, slayer?"
"Just make me forget about today...me...my life. Just for awhile. Please."
Another look from another woman. How had the big bad become so gullable? His resolve failed yet again and he leaned in to kiss. He could always make her forget. For awhile.
They eventually found themselves wrapped together under a nearby piece of carpet, lazily coming around after another intense session of sex and sweat. Buffy tried to catch her breath, shyly holding the 'blanket' around her naked body.
"I forgot to tell you the worst part about today."
Spike laid back, his arms folded behind his head, relishing in the afterglow of being surrounded in the feel if Buffy. Her scent, her need. He desperately wanted a cigarette to make it perfect.
"Anya picked out the dresses for the wedding. They're as god awful as anything you could ever imagine. Xander, of course, won't give his opinion, letting her pick everything, so it looks like radioactive green it is."
Spike tensed at the mention of the couple. A deep-seated regret threatened to rip his stomach apart from the inside. He knew Buffy would find out eventually. Sooner than later, he expected, but for now he wouldn't ruin the moment they were sharing. It wasn't much, but to him, lying here talking to her, having a normal conversation was as good as he could hope for.
The moment came and went, and soon Buffy was up, acting again as if nothing had happened. Spike kept his place on the floor, watching as she slipped back into her clothes and put on the façade of stone cold slayer.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, pulling her jacket on over her blouse.
Something in her tone made him hopeful. He was used to finding no emotion in her eyes after they'd been together, but tonight, tonight when she looked down at him he saw a glint of something. Feeling. On some level, he knew he'd reached her. Even just a little bit. More surprising to him, she bent down on her knees and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
"Goodnight, Spike."
She stood and walked away, pulling the door shut behind her as she went.
He was left alone with his thoughts. How was he ever gonna fix the mess he was in? All he wanted was to be there for her. To make her happy. Turning her best friend into a vampire probably wasn't gonna win him bonus points. He shivered at the thought and closed his eyes. Sleep now, face the consequences later. He drifted off, dreading the day ahead of him.
Spike hurried his way out of the apartment, desperate to make it back to his crypt and the bottle of Jack Daniels that was calling his name. After doing what he'd done, which he was trying hard not to think about, he felt he deserved one last night of mindless drunkenness. Once Xander was awake, he was fairly certain time to himself would be a luxury. His hands clenched and unclenched, hanging down by his sides, due to the tension building inside his body at the thought of Xander Harris the vampire. Childe of Spike. God did he hate the sound of that.
He stopped rapidly when he reached the door to his home. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, shaking his head in annoyance. Putting his hand up to touch the door, he took a deep breath. He could feel her. He could always feel her. Why didn't she just leave when she realized he wasn't there? He didn't know how to deal with her right now. Didn't know if he could hide the turmoil he was feeling. As he stood debating whether or not to stick it out or high tail it in the other direction, Buffy unknowingly decided for him and opened the door.
"Spike," she spoke casually.
"So you waited then?" He strolled past her, trying not to catch her eyes, sure the look in his own would give away his foul mood.
"Yeah, I waited. I was surprised you weren't here."
"Went out for a bit. You know.... a little late night carnage to work up the appetite, so to speak."
"I don't have a lot of time. Dawn's home alone. I felt kinda bad about leaving her there and sneaking out in the middle of the night."
He found the courage to finally catch her gaze. "Then why did you?" He reached for the coveted bottle of booze that he kept on top of the refrigerator and plopped down into the comfort of the only chair he owned. "That desperate for a shag, slayer?"
Buffy shrugged and moved closer, oblivious to the snide remark. "Just felt like being with you."
He eyed her wearily. "That's new."
"Spike. I've been doing some thinking lately. Well, the last couple of days anyway."
The bottle found his lips and the liquid slid down, warming his throat as it went.
"I don't like the way things are. With us."
"There is no 'us', remember?" The remark came off a little more sarcastic than he intended, and he immediately wanted to take it back. Instead, he buried more of the bottle.
"I'm sorry." She paced the floor in front of him and then moved closer, resting on her knees on the floor directly in front of the chair. "I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you."
His eyebrow arched in a bedazzled expression, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion.
"I've been showing up here anytime I feel like it, expecting you to. well, drop everything and make me happy. I've been using you, even knowing how you feel about me. And I know it's not fair."
"Buffy...."
"Let me finish before I chicken out, okay? I know it's not fair to you because I know you want more."
"Not really complainin' here, luv."
"And that's exactly what I thought you'd say. Figured you were getting something out of it and something was better than nothing, right?"
"Still not getting your point here."
She took a deep breath, pushing her courage out as she exhaled. "I want more too, Spike. What we have, what we've been doing, it's not right and it's not enough. It makes me feel something for a little while but then it's over and afterward I feel even emptier inside."
Spike's eyes dropped, afraid of showing her the disappointment hiding behind them. He pushed past her, standing up from the chair, and took another long swig from the bottle. How could this night get any worse? He felt the anger boiling but was powerless against the feeling.
"I get it, slayer. Fun while it lasted, yeah? Nice knowing you, see you around some time!?" He washed the bitterness down with the rest of the Jack and discarded the empty bottle where it dropped. He turned and stumbled to his makeshift bed, pushing the heavy stone lid aside. His hands fumbled shakily, searching for another bottle of hidden liquid numbness. He froze when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.
"You're not listening to me, Spike."
"I'm hearing you loud and clear, slayer."
"I'm saying I want more than just sex from you. I want the whole package. I want the friendship and the sharing and I want to be able to tell my friends. I don't want to have to feel like I'm keeping a dirty secret. Because I realized something. You're not. You're more than that."
He closed his eyes, pushing back the tears of happiness threatening to leak out. His hands gripped the edge of the sarcophagus as he gritted his teeth.
"Don't say it if you don't mean it, Buffy. Not in the mood for mind games."
"No games this time, Spike."
He heard a small sigh of breath from behind him and felt her hand leave his shoulder.
"I'm tired. It's always been a game between us. Who can out best the other. Hell, you're a vampire, I'm a slayer. We shouldn't even be having this conversation. But here we are. And you've never left."
"I love you."
"I know. I finally figured that out."
Small, warm hands slid around his waste to connect at his stomach. He felt her breath on the back of his neck when she leaned her body against his. "Are you ready to come out of hiding?"
He turned, unsuccessful in pushing back the tears this time, and met her face to face. "It's all I've ever dreamt about."
She smiled, reaching up to capture his lips in a kiss tenderer than he'd ever remember.
"Spike!"
He blinked.
"Spike! Wake up!"
He was confused, trying to hold onto the kiss a little longer, but was shaken out of it too abruptly. He reluctantly opened his eyes.
"God, Spike. I've been trying to get you up for five minutes!" Buffy glanced down at the bottle between his legs. "How much of that did you drink?!"
He shook his head, trying to sort out the confusion. "Not enough, apparently."
"I came by earlier and you weren't here. What were you doing?"
"Getting drunk," he replied sarcastically. He looked around the crypt, remembering when he'd returned to the empty space. Doing exactly what was on his agenda for the evening, he'd managed to drown himself into a nice, peaceful oblivion.
"What's wrong with you? You're all grouchy vampire."
"Bad night," he grumbled, taking the lid off the bottle and chugging a swallow. His hand reached for his cigarettes and came up empty when he realized he'd left his duster at Xander's apartment.
"Yeah, well, nothing like the night I've had, I bet." She slid into the chair as she spoke, casually shifting positions to straddle his lap. "Willow moped and moped all night about Tara, who by the way is still not speaking to her which is driving everyone crazy." She wrapped her hand around his neck and began caressing the short hairs around his ear. "Dawn's teacher sent a note saying she wants a meeting, which from my own personal experience can never be a good thing." She moved in closer, wiggling her hips against his crotch. "And if I ever have to eat another doublemeat burger, I think I might just kill myself and get it over with. Or let you have your one good day." Her free hand snaked its way down and began fumbling with the buckle of his belt.
His eyes narrowed and he reached out to grab the offending hand. "What are you doing?"
She met his eyes, giving a look full of surprise. "What do you mean, what am I doing? I'm doing.....this." She dropped her eyes and motioned between them as if it was the most natural thing for her to be undoing his belt.
"Why?" he asked.
More confusion. "I've had a bad day, thought we could...."
"Oh. Of course. Should have known." He took one last gulp from the bottle and tossed it over the side of the chair. "What's your pleasure tonight, slayer?"
"Just make me forget about today...me...my life. Just for awhile. Please."
Another look from another woman. How had the big bad become so gullable? His resolve failed yet again and he leaned in to kiss. He could always make her forget. For awhile.
They eventually found themselves wrapped together under a nearby piece of carpet, lazily coming around after another intense session of sex and sweat. Buffy tried to catch her breath, shyly holding the 'blanket' around her naked body.
"I forgot to tell you the worst part about today."
Spike laid back, his arms folded behind his head, relishing in the afterglow of being surrounded in the feel if Buffy. Her scent, her need. He desperately wanted a cigarette to make it perfect.
"Anya picked out the dresses for the wedding. They're as god awful as anything you could ever imagine. Xander, of course, won't give his opinion, letting her pick everything, so it looks like radioactive green it is."
Spike tensed at the mention of the couple. A deep-seated regret threatened to rip his stomach apart from the inside. He knew Buffy would find out eventually. Sooner than later, he expected, but for now he wouldn't ruin the moment they were sharing. It wasn't much, but to him, lying here talking to her, having a normal conversation was as good as he could hope for.
The moment came and went, and soon Buffy was up, acting again as if nothing had happened. Spike kept his place on the floor, watching as she slipped back into her clothes and put on the façade of stone cold slayer.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, pulling her jacket on over her blouse.
Something in her tone made him hopeful. He was used to finding no emotion in her eyes after they'd been together, but tonight, tonight when she looked down at him he saw a glint of something. Feeling. On some level, he knew he'd reached her. Even just a little bit. More surprising to him, she bent down on her knees and placed a soft kiss on his lips.
"Goodnight, Spike."
She stood and walked away, pulling the door shut behind her as she went.
He was left alone with his thoughts. How was he ever gonna fix the mess he was in? All he wanted was to be there for her. To make her happy. Turning her best friend into a vampire probably wasn't gonna win him bonus points. He shivered at the thought and closed his eyes. Sleep now, face the consequences later. He drifted off, dreading the day ahead of him.