Chapter 38

Spike paused the DVD he'd been watching as the phone started to ring.

"'Ello?" he said into the receiver.

"All men are bastards!" came the angry response from the other end of the line.

"Hey!" Spike answered, male pride pricked.

"Well, apart from you, of course, but you don't count," the voice replied.

"Hey!!" he responded again, not in the least bit appeased.

"Oh, yeah – oops?"

"What's he done now then, Buffy?" Spike asked, resigned to the fact that it would be yet another one of those conversations. In the weeks since the last time he'd seen her, Buffy had been ringing him on a very regular basis with complaints about the antics of her new boyfriend.

"He stood me up – again!" she complained, the anger which had been evident in her first statement quickly fading and Spike could hear even now the first tears beginning to form in her voice. His hand made a fist as he mentally pummelled the man that could dare to cause her so much pain.

"Look, just tell me his name and where he lives and I'll gladly come round and beat the shit out of him for you," he said cheerfully, knowing better than to let his emotion show when she was in this state.

"Spike, you know that's not going to happen," she said. They'd been over this ground so many times in recent weeks that they both knew the script off pat.

"Well, someone's got to point out to the ponce what an arse he's being and if you won't do it..." Spike warned.

"It's, well, he doesn't do it on purpose – he just forgets. And he's always really sorry about it. You'll see," she said, anxious, as always, to create excuses for the man she'd moments before been railing about.

"Why won't you tell me his name, at least?" Spike asked, as he always asked.

"Because..." she started.

"You think I'd actually do it, don't you?" Spike asked in disbelief. "You think I'd actually go round and beat him up?"

"Truth? Yeah – I think possibly you would."

Spike thought about this. "You're probably right," he admitted without remorse. "So, you gonna tell me then?"

"No! So stop asking!" she laughed and Spike smiled in triumph as he chalked up another successful job of 'stopping Buffy being upset'.

"I have other sources you know. I'll find out from someone else."

"Spike, just let it go, please?" Buffy asked sounding tired.

"You expect me to just stand back and let this wanker walk all over you, Buffy? I mean, he stands you up more than you go out together. He shouts at you for no reason, you never seem to be able to do anything right with him. I'm worried about you, that's all – you know that."

"Yeah, I know, Spike. Look, I gotta go – he might be trying to call to say where he is."

"Hope for a miracle, pet," Spike said somewhat sarcastically as he heard the phone line go dead.

He waited a moment before picking up the phone again and dialling a number he had jotted on a piece of paper.

"Hello?" a woman's voice said on the other end of the line.

"Willow, is Buffy in the room with you?" he asked quickly.

"No. If you want to speak to her, why did you call my mobile?" she asked, confused.

"I don't want to talk to her – it's you I'm after, but I don't want her to know I've spoken to you. Oz gave me your number."

"Go on..." Willow said, waiting for an explanation.

"Who is it?" Spike asked.

"Who's what?" Willow responded, not understanding where Spike was going with this.

"The guy that Buffy's been seeing – what's his name?"

"If she hasn't told you, why should I?" Willow asked defensively.

"Dammit, Will – just tell me. You and I both know that he's a wanker that doesn't deserve her. I just would quite like to be able to put a name to the man who's been putting her through crap for weeks," Spike snapped, losing his temper slightly.

"Okay, fine. You're right anyway, he doesn't deserve her. His name's Liam, but he's generally known as..." Willow broke off as she heard a groan from Spike. "What?" she asked.

"Generally known as Angel by any chance?" Spike asked wearily as he waited for his worst fears to be confirmed.

"Yes – how did you know?" Willow asked, surprised.

"Tall guy, dark, uses too much hair gel. Kinda broody?"

"That'll be the one," Willow laughed at the description.

"Great, just great. Of all the thousands of guys in a city the size of Manchester, she just has to go for him."

"What do you mean? You know him?" Willow asked.

"Oh, yeah – I know him alright. Him and me, used to be best friends at one time. Then he bloody well stole Dru off me. And if that wasn't enough, once he had her, well, he didn't want her anymore, did he – no! Tall, dark and forehead's only ever in it for the chase – loves to go for the unobtainable, y'know. So, once he'd managed to get Dru away from me, he lost all interest, started screwing around on her. 'Cept he never told her – left her to work it out for herself. Broke her bloody heart, he did – just like she broke mine. He's a git. Always has been, always will be, that one."

"That's terrible!"

"And now he's got his claws into her. No wonder she's a bloody wreck," he declared.

"Are you gonna tell her?" Willow asked.

"What, me?" Spike laughed. "Chit won't take any interference from me. Nah - I'm just a shoulder to cry on when things get really bad and she wouldn't believe me if I told her."

"Of course she would, Spike!" Willow argued.

"Not bloody likely. Look, Red. I know she know how I feel about her, and that makes her think that I'd say anything to get her to leave him. So she won't believe a word I say about him if it's something bad. No point. Will you talk to her? Find out what the hell she thinks she's playing at? Please. I can't stand to see her like this. You know I'd leave well alone if I thought she was happy, but..."

"I know, Spike. I'll talk to her, see what I can do."