I didn't know where to go. I was lost in my own body, my own mind.
Driving around town wasn't helping. If anything it was making it worse;
giving me too much time to think. The masochistic part of my brain kept
trying to review the scene I'd seen so clearly under the moonlight. My
mind wanted to pull back and think before I started losing control, but I
clamped down on myself and forced the full playback to go on uninterrupted.
Spike's crypt, I was there looking for Buffy. I heard what I thought were
sounds of a scuffle going on inside. I'd opened the door of the crypt and
stopped in shock. I softly closed the door and then sat down leaning
against the cold and comforting stone wall. My mind didn't want to believe
what my eyes were telling it I'd seen. I cracked the door ever so slightly
and heard her unmistakable voice ask him to do something I didn't need to
hear. My brain started to overload and shut down. Around me in the car
objects started shaking softly and then more aggravated and violently; even
the car itself began to rattle. I reaffirmed my control and the shaking
stopped as I thought about what I'd done.
I'd left. I walked away, but didn't really have anywhere else to go. Walking back to my car, I was so out of it I'd tripped and fallen into some garbage cans along the sidewalk, hitting my face on the way down and it reopened the freshly closed wound on my face letting blood flow freely. I ignored it, feeling nothing, and pushed myself on to get into the drivers seat and then sat for a minute trying to remember how to start the engine. I get it into gear and peel out, trying to get as far away from it, them, from her as I could. It was late and I had no idea where to go. Finally I pulled out my phone and made a phone call to my old friend the General. He met me at the bar I asked him to. I was there waiting when he walked through the front door. He took one look at me and ordered and paid for six rounds for each of us to be brought one after the other before making his way to my table and sitting down. He glanced at the cigarette in my mouth with scorn, but pulled one out of the pack sitting on the table and lit it. We drank the first of the whiskey train still without a word being said between us.
"You're bleeding." I nodded, looking at my shirt and the blood stained there, but the cut had already stopped dripping.
"Is it the girl?" I said nothing, but I didn't need to. He nodded
and continued.
"It's always the girl. Well, friend, my plan of attack is simple. We'll drink ourselves as close to oblivion as possible and still be able to drive to the apartment I keep on the side that you can use tonight and then I'll go back and sleep on base tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough for us to try and patch things up, if they warrant patching. Risk assessment though, chief; do you think it can be salvaged or are we looking at a no win situation." It was times like these that reminded me of when we'd first met. I'd breezed by the story when I told it to Buffy, but the real telling takes time.
He had just taken over as my company's commander when our unit got moved overseas. I was a Staff Sergeant and acting Platoon Sergeant without a Platoon Leader. We didn't have much notice before we had to leave, and he had just moved into the area so I asked my girlfriend at the time to help out his wife of the time, basically just to get them settled in. We were on the plane and on our way in no time, it seemed. A few days at a forward base and again we were on a plane this time with our weapons ready and all our goodbyes said.
We dropped at night into some hairy fighting that was enough to give anybody nightmares. I could hear the guy next to me on the way down screaming from the bullets that had found his parachuting silhouette. I rallied my platoon together and we pushed forward to finish the objective, but got pinned down by some machine guns emplaced on the hill to the left of our intended staging zone. Our Captain, Butler, stood up to rally two platoons together and push forward around the hill as I yelled for our platoon to lay down cover fire at the machine gunners.
I watched in slow motion as an enemy sniper moved into the open to take aim on Butler. I swung my weapon around and tried to aim at the sniper about two hundred yards away at night and with no moon. My target was hard to differentiate from the background heat of the rocks he was on so I turned off my night vision goggles to aim with my naked eye. I took too long and he got off two shots before my round found his chest and he turned as he fell. I looked over at the Captain who had fallen onto his chest and waited for him to move. I yelled for my squad leaders to split and sweep around. I heard them echo their commands and first squad moved quickly around to the right of the berm and laid down cover fire for the second squad which broke left and began advancing by buddy teams before the first squad leader yelled to the second to begin his movement, just like we practiced.
I stood up and ran to the Captain, a few bullets hitting the dirt at my feet. I grabbed him by the harness and carried / dragged him to cover and then called for medevac. I checked with my squad leaders over the radio, and when they told me they were clear I ordered one to setup perimeter security of the staging area and the other to begin a slow sweep coordinated with the other platoons. The Captain was the only one injured in that operation, but I got him mostly stabilized before the chopper showed up and moved him to a field hospital. I'd regrouped my platoon and called into the acting commander my status before we pushed forward to complete our objective. The op went so well from Butler's planning after that, he got a medal and a promotion as soon as he could stand. I thought back briefly to the time he'd repaid the favor of saving my own life, and realized it didn't matter what we did, it would always be that way between us.
"You're on, what, your third wife now?" I finally broke my silence after finishing our second round.
"Fourth." He looked thoughtful.
"Was it worth it?"
"Every one of them." I nodded and we returned to our silence. We didn't need to talk; all the normal drinking conversations had been exhausted by us years ago. The whiskey glasses came and went and more came to replace them. I looked at the half empty pack of cigarettes and, wadding them up, threw them across to behind the bar. The female waitress came over to ask if we'd like anything else. I shook my head and we rose as one to drop five bucks a piece as tip and walked in step out the door. I followed him in my car to the apartment he told me I could use for at least the next two weeks if I needed it, or longer if I let him know. He made sure I had his phone numbers, some food in the fridge, and the directions to the closest liquor store.
It wasn't long before I made my way to said liquor store and stocked up on some much needed supplies. Well fortified with both Irish whiskey and some very good scotch, I looked at my phone in minor rage as I recognized Buffy's number before turning it off and throwing it into the next room. I lay there on the large and comfortable bed with the TV in the background for noise and began losing control. 'Being open is simply not being closed' I realized the validity of that truth as my consciousness wandered with my thoughts. First to the place I'd seen them together, empty now, and then to the inside of her house and Buffy sitting alone with the phone still in her hand looking at it with a slightly confused look on her face. My mind wanders in spike's direction and I see him sitting in the shadows of his crypt watching TV and smoking, his place still in a shambles. Fleetingly my mind jumps to see the other Scooby's, Dawn asleep, Tara, willow, Xander and Anya; and then more faces further away both in distance and time. Finally I slip into sleep pattern and can at last relax.
I woke up groggy and looked around my unfamiliar surroundings. I checked myself for injuries and decided it wasn't too wild a night; the only blood on me was dried on my shirt. I had, however, lost control of my mind judging by the furniture in disarray around the room. I forced myself upright and looked around the apartment for a broom to sweep up the shards from the broken bulb that had been in the ceiling. Slowly, more as a discipline thing than for any real desire for cleanliness, I put the entire apartment to rights. Not much more than a living room and a kitchen, single bedroom and a bathroom, but it was nicer than a lot of places I'd had to lay my head. I picked up my phone and turned it on to listen to Buffy's voicemail wondering where I was, wondering when I'd be back, and letting me know where the door key was and to come on up to bed when I got there. I deleted that message and the other two after it. How could she expect me to come to her bed after sharing herself with him the same night?
She had a shift this morning and I wondered if I should go try and see her as I made my way down to my car to get my bag and then headed back up to clean myself up. I got out of the shower and sat there on the couch, the TV still going, wondering what I was going to do with myself today. I think it might be best to leave her alone for a few days and just continue on as her friend. I needed to sort some things out, but first I needed intel. I had to know just what had been going on under my nose. I left the apartment and drove around making sure I saw Buffy at work before pulling away and heading toward her house. I guess she must have seen me drive by because it wasn't long before my phone rang and she was on the other end asking, demanding really, where I'd been the night before. I gave her some hollow promises about my safety and that I was okay, but neither of us really bought it. She finally hung up, saying she had to get back to work, but the ghost of what she'd done was between us now and it was hard to see through it to the real person I thought I'd known.
I drove by the Magic box to make an appearance and check on things before heading out for some fast food and back to the apartment to crack open another bottle. I spent the rest of the afternoon like that before getting fed up with myself and went out looking for some action. I called up the General before heading out, letting him know I was okay after last night and thanking him for the use of this place. I hit up the bar, but it wasn't the right scene for me so I went over to the Bronze to check things out. I hadn't been there for two minutes when my phone went off and Buffy told me she was heading there to relax with her friends and invite me for some frosty nectar. I told her I might stop by, but probably wouldn't. I had a pretty good drink and a very good observation post when I saw the group enter and meander around before settling at a couple of tables. I waited for a while before watching Xander and Anya start dancing and then Xander heading over to invite Buffy and Willow. Buffy went to the bar and then she turned and headed up the stairs. I pulled back into the shadows and she didn't notice me. It wasn't long before Spike appeared out of the other shadows and closed the distance between them. I watched in silent rage as I watched them move together. I watched her face go to her friends down below and was amazed to see her fully enjoy herself. Who was this girl? How could she do that with her friends below? Watching them, even? I felt I didn't even know her anymore.
I left and walked right by them both without them noticing and had made my way through the crowd to the door before I realized that it didn't hurt like it had the day before. I was amazed by myself and my lack of reaction. I got in the car and took off for a few parts unknown, even to myself, as I tried to puzzle out why I didn't feel anything. Had I not been in love with her? Had I simply written our relationship off as a loss? Had I moved on already and convinced myself to ignore everything we'd had? Had we had anything? I stopped that train of thought before I drove myself crazy. I headed back to the apartment and closed my mind down tightly before slowly lowering myself into bed and staring at the ceiling waiting for morning to come. I rolled out of bed and rummaged around in the drawer next to the bed for a pad and a charcoal pencil. The therapist the General and I had both attended told us that drawing out our feelings was a good way to identify and deal with them. I spaced out as my hand moved of its own volition. My mind chased wild thoughts through my life, but they all kept coming back to the past two nights. An hour or so passed and I looked for the first time at the scattering of drawing paper with my charcoal marks spread across the bed and the floor. There was Buffy the first time I'd seen her, over there she was fighting with me, here and there she was wearing my jacket the night we'd lost our memories, and there she was kicking the crap out of the pompous Sergeant at the base. Buffy...Buffy smiling. Buffy smirking. Buffy sleeping. Buffy with Dawn. Buffy laughing. Buffy with her Slayer face on and looking dangerous. Buffy jumping and kicking. Finally my gaze lingered on the closest one to me which featured two faces hers and Spike's, both in mutual rapturous pleasure. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw it. I realized then why I didn't feel anything the night before; I'd been too pissed off to feel the hurt.
There have been times in my life when the only thing that kept me going was the sheer resolve to win. I got myself out of bed and into the shower, cleaning my cut and finding clean clothes as soon as I got out. I shaved down the stubble carefully before brushing my teeth and running a hand through my short hair, I'd need a haircut soon. I made my way down to the car and drove to her house to find it empty. Checking my watch I headed over to the magic box hoping to find her there working out and had a lucky break. I made my way through the shop without acknowledging Anya or anyone else in the shop, heading straight into the back to watch her working out on the pommel horse. "Can we talk?" She vaults off at the sound of my voice and runs at me for a hug but I stop her short by holding up my hand and stepping aside. "Okay, let's talk. Where've you been? What's going on?" "I was hoping you could tell me, actually." "What are you talking about?" She was getting agitated now and more than a little defensive. I took a breath and sighed it out thinking of how to best proceed without messing this up any further than it already was; I still had to stick around and help her out after this was worked out. "Can we do this another way?" She understood my meaning and nodded as she moved to the center of the open area and stretched out her arms. I dropped my jacket on the chair next to hers and rolled my shoulders to pop them before stepping in front of her to square off. We started moving and talking at the same time. My mind kicked in as I became attuned to her movements and could see what her next move was going to be, and soon her feelings as well. I turned the conversation to what I really wanted to know, but I had to lead into it. "I want you to know that no matter how this ends I'll still be there for you." She nodded in return as our blows and blocks punctuated the conversation, lending to the inherent rhythm of our dance. "What are you doing, Buffy?" I asked her.
"I don't know."
"I mean with Spike; what are you doing with Spike?" At her sharp intake of breath I looked at her face.
"How long have you known?"
"Two days ago."
"Who else knows?"
"No one." We were silent for a long pregnant moment, only the sounds of our feet and hands reverberating from the walls around us. "I wanted to tell you; so many times I wanted to tell you." I could sense her regret easily and couldn't really blame her considering the source of this argument, but there was more I needed to know.
"How long has it been going on?"
"I don't know. Not long, but long enough. Too long." We were moving more focused now, both of us fighting more with our emotions and the strength of our blows reflecting the same. The tempo of the fight began to increase and we began to take more hits instead of blocking them. She clocked me a good one forcing me to step back and I tasted blood as I stepped right back into the fray. The pace increased again and we weren't talking anymore or actually thinking of ways to fix the problem, only trying to beat the problem to death. I ducked under her punch and stepped forward nailing her in the chest with my right and knocking her down. I was expecting her to spring to her feet and come at me, but she stayed down and was breathing heavily. She looked up at me from the floor and asked me a very hard question. "So what do you want to do now?" The room was so utterly silent; I could actually hear her heartbeat as she waited for my response. I wanted to take her in my arms, but doing that would only betray myself. I wanted to kiss her and forget all of this had ever happened, but life doesn't work like that. This problem wouldn't be solved easily. I sat down ignoring the stinging of the sweat in my facial cut. "I don't know. I didn't see this coming. I mean, it's Spike." Her eyes welled up. "I know its Spike, okay. I know. But it doesn't mean anything. He... doesn't mean anything. "Do you love him?" "How could you even think that?"
"I saw you together, Buffy. Twice. And you called me after the first time asking me when I was going to be there to share your bed." I watched it sink in and regretted the pain I saw in her face. I sighed again and tried to take a mental step back into friend mode and out of hurt boyfriend mode. I changed my tone and tried to keep emotion out of my voice as I asked her.
"Did you want to tell me about it?" I wasn't trying to accuse her anymore; I simply wanted to find out more. I could tell she took it the wrong way by her face, but she was strong in her conviction.
"I came back wrong."
"No, you didn't we've been over this."
"You're wrong, I am different. I'm wrong. I feel different and I think different. I'm doing things that I shouldn't be doing and I don't know why."
"Like Spike?"
"Yes... like Spike."
"Do you love him Buffy? It's okay if you love him." Was it? I'd said it, but did I believe it?
"I don't love him. He's just, more like me. Or I'm more like him now. It's different." "Did it ever occur to you what it would mean if you didn't come back wrong?" She was silent for a minute and she stood up to look down on me. "Look, I guess it doesn't matter to you, but I'm sorry; I'm so sorry for what I've done. What I did... to you."
"How can you think it doesn't matter to me? I still love you, Buffy. I'm just trying to figure out if I can still trust us to be together. Can I? Can I trust you Buffy?"
"What Spike and I have... had was wrong, I know that. I know it shouldn't have happened, but when I was with him, it felt more right." I faltered as her punch arced past my face and caught her follow up square on the chest. I stepped backward and then back in quickly to pick up the rhythm again. She caught my hesitation and quickly tried to clarify herself. "He doesn't mean anything to me. He never did, he was just... convenient."
"And what am I?" "You're... different. You're there to look out for me; I feel safe around you. Spike can't give me that. Spike can't take me out in the sun. When I'm with Spike he makes me feel... bad." She couldn't meet my eyes as she told me how she felt. So where do we go from here?" I asked as I straightened. "I don't know. What do you want to do?" What did I want to do? Don't go there, I told myself; I knew what I should do. "I think we should take it kind of slow for a while, be friends. Wait a few days and see where we go from there. I love you Buffy, and I want you to know that if we're together, then we're together. But I want you to decide if you still want Spike before trying to come see me again." She didn't seem to like that too much. She reared back with her right, hit me with her left and then knocked me across the room with her right. I knew it was coming, but took it anyway and got up slowly as she gave me a hand up. I pulled her in close to me and kissed her lightly before letting her go. She leaned into the kiss, turning it into something more before I broke it off. Where had her lips been already today? "I'll call you." She said, turned to grab her jacket and was gone, hurt evident on her face. I stood there shaking for a few seconds, trying to get my physical reaction under control before grabbing my jacket and heading out through the shop to my car. I needed another shower and planned on lots of cold water. After I got out I went first to the bed and pulled out the last sketch I'd been working on, Buffy and me together smiling; I liked that one. Then I went to the bottle to have a few swigs before heading out for some food. I'd planned on an early night for once, but that wasn't meant to be. My phone went off at about twelve thirty as I was leaving the burger joint for the second night in a row; I'd pay for that later.
It was Dawn on the other end and she was way worried. She said that Buffy'd told her that she'd hurt somebody, a girl, and that she was going to the police. She begged me not to let Buffy turn herself in. I told her I would try and not to worry before I hung up. I was calling Max on my way down to the station and I lucked out again; he was on duty. I told him that if he saw a blond by the name of Buffy he should stall her and wait till I got there. He sounded confused, but agreed before I hung up again shoved the pedal down further.
I pulled up and squealed the tires as I barely stopped in the parking slot. I looked around frantically for her before heading inside and seeing Max. He shook his head at me from across the room and I went back outside in time to see her coming around the corner and get pulled backward by Spike. I rushed after them, but stopped to lean around the corner to listen, whatever she decided I would stick with but that didn't mean I couldn't get the inside scoop. Besides, I had to know what I was dealing with here.
"I have to tell them what happened."
"Nothing happened."
"I killed that girl."
"Demons in the woods, time going wonky, I'm sure they'll believe that." So Spike was there when it happened. It seemed like he was trying to stop her from turning herself in. I walked back into the station to find Max and ask him what was going on tonight. He mentioned the murder of a twenty something girl named Katrina. I asked him about cause of death and he said unknown, they'd just found the body, but it looked a few days old. I told him to put it down as suicide, sounded like she'd done a bridge bit. He nodded and said that was the working theory. He looked at me sideways and asked if that was what really happened. I nodded and he bent to his paperwork as I headed out. I made it out into the alley in time to see Buffy standing over Spike beating him and shouting that she was not his girl, could never be his girl. I saw him try and stand up, looking around through swollen eyes as he called out for her. I stepped on him as I made my way to her and wrapped her up in my arms. She leaned against me drawing strength for a second, but my mental suggestion didn't hold and she fought her way out of my embrace and squared her shoulders to walk resolutely toward the front of the building.
We walked in together and I stood behind her without touching her but made sure that she felt my presence. We approached the desk and I nodded at Max as he made his way to speak to the desk sergeant who looked at the phone and picked it up nodding back at Max. Buffy glanced back at me and I put my hand on her back. The sergeant complained to the voice on the other end that it was busy and then asked him about a confirmed ID on the body. He said her name again and it didn't mean anything more to me from the first time I'd heard it, but I felt Buffy stiffen under my hand. She turned toward me and her face was cold and angry.
"Warren." She said and walked past me heading out the door. She was getting in the car as I came out and I glanced at the alley, seeing nothing, before getting in myself. I drove us back to her house in silence. I got out at her house and followed her up to the front door. I held back at the door, though, and she turned to face me as I stopped.
"Could you please... I just. I don't want to be alone right now." I heard the need in her voice and nodded following her in and directly upstairs. I kept my pants on as did she and we both lay down on top of the covers. Time enough to puzzle everything out tomorrow; tonight was for comfort and sleep. I slept better that night than I had all week, with her in my arms and her warm weight pressed close against the chill in my heart.
We were gathered at the magic box the next day; all of the Scoobies, Dawn and myself included. Spike was conspicuously absent. I tuned in on Anya as she explained about this type of demon Buffy said she'd been fighting right before it happened. As soon as she said temporal disturbance my ears perked up, the phrase 'Time going wonky' echoing through my head. Buffy was nodding as Anya described the effect they have on our dimension and close contact with the people in it.
"So these things just made you think you killed her." Willow was amazingly helpful in calming Buffy down.
"Yeah, she was probably dead long before you stumbled across her." I'd gotten up early that morning after we'd been asleep for a few hours. After calling Max still working the night shift I'd gone over to see the body first hand. Looked to me like it had been an earlier killing than when Buffy'd had her encounter. The official report would be death from a fall but the detective Max introduced me to had told me it looked more like a homicide, but without the evidence there wasn't a whole lot he could do. I made it back without Buffy noticing I was gone, I hope. I glanced at Dawn sitting beside me on the steps and leaning against the guardrail but her face was pensive. I put my arm around her shoulders.
"It wasn't the demon, it was Warren. He knew Katrina, he had something to do with this I know it."
"How can you be sure?"
"You always hurt the ones you love." I felt something from her across the mental link I hadn't quite realized was still there. She thought of me.
"Does this mean you're not going away?" Dawn beside me kept her gaze from meeting her sister's as she asked the question.
"I'm not going anywhere." Buffy stood up as she spoke and walked toward us, but Dawn shrugged off my arm from her shoulders and stood up to walk away.
"Give her time, Buffy." She nodded at me and turned to face her friends.
"We need to find Warren and the others. Whatever they did they're not going to get away with it. The group broke up heading in their separate directions. I collected Dawn from the back room and she sat silently in the backseat of the car on the way back to the house. I dropped them off to give them the time to talk and I headed out to the gun range to focus myself. I took a place at the end of the range away from the other shooters and put my target onto the moveable brace to send it down range. I emptied my first magazine, reloaded and shot through my second before putting down the pistol and bringing back my target. I discarded that paper silhouette and put up another to repeat the process. I spent quite a few hours there before I left smelling of smokeless gunpowder; one of the best smells I know of. I did finally make it back to the apartment to clean and lube my pistol and then myself before heading over to Buffy's house.
I stood nervously outside her door for a second, wondering if I should be there. Finally I reached up and knocked. Buffy answered quickly, seeming eager to see me. I smiled but hers dimmed.
"I'm sorry; I wasn't really expecting you back tonight. I was kinda waiting for someone else." Who? Spike? I felt my Irish rise up a little, but held back. It was still her choice.
"I – should I leave?"
"No! No, come in. I'm waiting for Tara. We have something to talk about." She waved me in and I walked past her into the living room. I sat down on the couch looking up at her, trying to find a place to start but before I could open my mouth the doorbell rang and Buffy answered it to let Tara in.
"Could you, maybe, wait in the kitchen? I just really need to talk with Tara and I'll be right there." I nodded and stood up, saying hello to Tara as I walked by her and into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water and sat down to think. I couldn't hear anything they said, but my link to Buffy was still open and I felt enough through it to know it wasn't Tara's problem they were talking about. I felt a sense of confusion and denial at first, but that shortly became humiliation and overwhelming regret. I waited a few minutes to see if I could pick up anything more specific but finally I just couldn't stand it and went into the living room to see Buffy crying with her face in Tara's lap. My eyes went to Tara looking up at me.
"What happened? Is she okay?" Tara nodded and Buffy sniffed loudly. I moved behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders as I kneeled down beside her. She picked her head up and moved suddenly to wrap her arms around me and squeeze. I heard her in my head begging me not to forgive her, but I brushed it aside and pushed my own feelings across our link to her. Her breath caught in her throat as I felt her realization echo across to me. She pulled me to herself tighter than before and she began to whisper how sorry she was she had used us both. My eyes went to Tara still sitting on the couch as she leaned forward to wrap her arms around both of us, seeming about to cry herself. We sat there for a few minutes until I moved to stand us up and Tara released us. She told us she would see us later and with a look at me went out the door closing it behind her. I picked Buffy up in my arms resting her head against my shoulder and carried her upstairs and to her bed. I slowly undressed her and laid her down in her bed before undressing myself and lying down next to her, pulling her close to me. She'd cried herself out and was laying there silently next to me as our thoughts intertwined, and I relaxed us off into sleep.
I'd left. I walked away, but didn't really have anywhere else to go. Walking back to my car, I was so out of it I'd tripped and fallen into some garbage cans along the sidewalk, hitting my face on the way down and it reopened the freshly closed wound on my face letting blood flow freely. I ignored it, feeling nothing, and pushed myself on to get into the drivers seat and then sat for a minute trying to remember how to start the engine. I get it into gear and peel out, trying to get as far away from it, them, from her as I could. It was late and I had no idea where to go. Finally I pulled out my phone and made a phone call to my old friend the General. He met me at the bar I asked him to. I was there waiting when he walked through the front door. He took one look at me and ordered and paid for six rounds for each of us to be brought one after the other before making his way to my table and sitting down. He glanced at the cigarette in my mouth with scorn, but pulled one out of the pack sitting on the table and lit it. We drank the first of the whiskey train still without a word being said between us.
"You're bleeding." I nodded, looking at my shirt and the blood stained there, but the cut had already stopped dripping.
"Is it the girl?" I said nothing, but I didn't need to. He nodded
and continued.
"It's always the girl. Well, friend, my plan of attack is simple. We'll drink ourselves as close to oblivion as possible and still be able to drive to the apartment I keep on the side that you can use tonight and then I'll go back and sleep on base tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough for us to try and patch things up, if they warrant patching. Risk assessment though, chief; do you think it can be salvaged or are we looking at a no win situation." It was times like these that reminded me of when we'd first met. I'd breezed by the story when I told it to Buffy, but the real telling takes time.
He had just taken over as my company's commander when our unit got moved overseas. I was a Staff Sergeant and acting Platoon Sergeant without a Platoon Leader. We didn't have much notice before we had to leave, and he had just moved into the area so I asked my girlfriend at the time to help out his wife of the time, basically just to get them settled in. We were on the plane and on our way in no time, it seemed. A few days at a forward base and again we were on a plane this time with our weapons ready and all our goodbyes said.
We dropped at night into some hairy fighting that was enough to give anybody nightmares. I could hear the guy next to me on the way down screaming from the bullets that had found his parachuting silhouette. I rallied my platoon together and we pushed forward to finish the objective, but got pinned down by some machine guns emplaced on the hill to the left of our intended staging zone. Our Captain, Butler, stood up to rally two platoons together and push forward around the hill as I yelled for our platoon to lay down cover fire at the machine gunners.
I watched in slow motion as an enemy sniper moved into the open to take aim on Butler. I swung my weapon around and tried to aim at the sniper about two hundred yards away at night and with no moon. My target was hard to differentiate from the background heat of the rocks he was on so I turned off my night vision goggles to aim with my naked eye. I took too long and he got off two shots before my round found his chest and he turned as he fell. I looked over at the Captain who had fallen onto his chest and waited for him to move. I yelled for my squad leaders to split and sweep around. I heard them echo their commands and first squad moved quickly around to the right of the berm and laid down cover fire for the second squad which broke left and began advancing by buddy teams before the first squad leader yelled to the second to begin his movement, just like we practiced.
I stood up and ran to the Captain, a few bullets hitting the dirt at my feet. I grabbed him by the harness and carried / dragged him to cover and then called for medevac. I checked with my squad leaders over the radio, and when they told me they were clear I ordered one to setup perimeter security of the staging area and the other to begin a slow sweep coordinated with the other platoons. The Captain was the only one injured in that operation, but I got him mostly stabilized before the chopper showed up and moved him to a field hospital. I'd regrouped my platoon and called into the acting commander my status before we pushed forward to complete our objective. The op went so well from Butler's planning after that, he got a medal and a promotion as soon as he could stand. I thought back briefly to the time he'd repaid the favor of saving my own life, and realized it didn't matter what we did, it would always be that way between us.
"You're on, what, your third wife now?" I finally broke my silence after finishing our second round.
"Fourth." He looked thoughtful.
"Was it worth it?"
"Every one of them." I nodded and we returned to our silence. We didn't need to talk; all the normal drinking conversations had been exhausted by us years ago. The whiskey glasses came and went and more came to replace them. I looked at the half empty pack of cigarettes and, wadding them up, threw them across to behind the bar. The female waitress came over to ask if we'd like anything else. I shook my head and we rose as one to drop five bucks a piece as tip and walked in step out the door. I followed him in my car to the apartment he told me I could use for at least the next two weeks if I needed it, or longer if I let him know. He made sure I had his phone numbers, some food in the fridge, and the directions to the closest liquor store.
It wasn't long before I made my way to said liquor store and stocked up on some much needed supplies. Well fortified with both Irish whiskey and some very good scotch, I looked at my phone in minor rage as I recognized Buffy's number before turning it off and throwing it into the next room. I lay there on the large and comfortable bed with the TV in the background for noise and began losing control. 'Being open is simply not being closed' I realized the validity of that truth as my consciousness wandered with my thoughts. First to the place I'd seen them together, empty now, and then to the inside of her house and Buffy sitting alone with the phone still in her hand looking at it with a slightly confused look on her face. My mind wanders in spike's direction and I see him sitting in the shadows of his crypt watching TV and smoking, his place still in a shambles. Fleetingly my mind jumps to see the other Scooby's, Dawn asleep, Tara, willow, Xander and Anya; and then more faces further away both in distance and time. Finally I slip into sleep pattern and can at last relax.
I woke up groggy and looked around my unfamiliar surroundings. I checked myself for injuries and decided it wasn't too wild a night; the only blood on me was dried on my shirt. I had, however, lost control of my mind judging by the furniture in disarray around the room. I forced myself upright and looked around the apartment for a broom to sweep up the shards from the broken bulb that had been in the ceiling. Slowly, more as a discipline thing than for any real desire for cleanliness, I put the entire apartment to rights. Not much more than a living room and a kitchen, single bedroom and a bathroom, but it was nicer than a lot of places I'd had to lay my head. I picked up my phone and turned it on to listen to Buffy's voicemail wondering where I was, wondering when I'd be back, and letting me know where the door key was and to come on up to bed when I got there. I deleted that message and the other two after it. How could she expect me to come to her bed after sharing herself with him the same night?
She had a shift this morning and I wondered if I should go try and see her as I made my way down to my car to get my bag and then headed back up to clean myself up. I got out of the shower and sat there on the couch, the TV still going, wondering what I was going to do with myself today. I think it might be best to leave her alone for a few days and just continue on as her friend. I needed to sort some things out, but first I needed intel. I had to know just what had been going on under my nose. I left the apartment and drove around making sure I saw Buffy at work before pulling away and heading toward her house. I guess she must have seen me drive by because it wasn't long before my phone rang and she was on the other end asking, demanding really, where I'd been the night before. I gave her some hollow promises about my safety and that I was okay, but neither of us really bought it. She finally hung up, saying she had to get back to work, but the ghost of what she'd done was between us now and it was hard to see through it to the real person I thought I'd known.
I drove by the Magic box to make an appearance and check on things before heading out for some fast food and back to the apartment to crack open another bottle. I spent the rest of the afternoon like that before getting fed up with myself and went out looking for some action. I called up the General before heading out, letting him know I was okay after last night and thanking him for the use of this place. I hit up the bar, but it wasn't the right scene for me so I went over to the Bronze to check things out. I hadn't been there for two minutes when my phone went off and Buffy told me she was heading there to relax with her friends and invite me for some frosty nectar. I told her I might stop by, but probably wouldn't. I had a pretty good drink and a very good observation post when I saw the group enter and meander around before settling at a couple of tables. I waited for a while before watching Xander and Anya start dancing and then Xander heading over to invite Buffy and Willow. Buffy went to the bar and then she turned and headed up the stairs. I pulled back into the shadows and she didn't notice me. It wasn't long before Spike appeared out of the other shadows and closed the distance between them. I watched in silent rage as I watched them move together. I watched her face go to her friends down below and was amazed to see her fully enjoy herself. Who was this girl? How could she do that with her friends below? Watching them, even? I felt I didn't even know her anymore.
I left and walked right by them both without them noticing and had made my way through the crowd to the door before I realized that it didn't hurt like it had the day before. I was amazed by myself and my lack of reaction. I got in the car and took off for a few parts unknown, even to myself, as I tried to puzzle out why I didn't feel anything. Had I not been in love with her? Had I simply written our relationship off as a loss? Had I moved on already and convinced myself to ignore everything we'd had? Had we had anything? I stopped that train of thought before I drove myself crazy. I headed back to the apartment and closed my mind down tightly before slowly lowering myself into bed and staring at the ceiling waiting for morning to come. I rolled out of bed and rummaged around in the drawer next to the bed for a pad and a charcoal pencil. The therapist the General and I had both attended told us that drawing out our feelings was a good way to identify and deal with them. I spaced out as my hand moved of its own volition. My mind chased wild thoughts through my life, but they all kept coming back to the past two nights. An hour or so passed and I looked for the first time at the scattering of drawing paper with my charcoal marks spread across the bed and the floor. There was Buffy the first time I'd seen her, over there she was fighting with me, here and there she was wearing my jacket the night we'd lost our memories, and there she was kicking the crap out of the pompous Sergeant at the base. Buffy...Buffy smiling. Buffy smirking. Buffy sleeping. Buffy with Dawn. Buffy laughing. Buffy with her Slayer face on and looking dangerous. Buffy jumping and kicking. Finally my gaze lingered on the closest one to me which featured two faces hers and Spike's, both in mutual rapturous pleasure. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw it. I realized then why I didn't feel anything the night before; I'd been too pissed off to feel the hurt.
There have been times in my life when the only thing that kept me going was the sheer resolve to win. I got myself out of bed and into the shower, cleaning my cut and finding clean clothes as soon as I got out. I shaved down the stubble carefully before brushing my teeth and running a hand through my short hair, I'd need a haircut soon. I made my way down to the car and drove to her house to find it empty. Checking my watch I headed over to the magic box hoping to find her there working out and had a lucky break. I made my way through the shop without acknowledging Anya or anyone else in the shop, heading straight into the back to watch her working out on the pommel horse. "Can we talk?" She vaults off at the sound of my voice and runs at me for a hug but I stop her short by holding up my hand and stepping aside. "Okay, let's talk. Where've you been? What's going on?" "I was hoping you could tell me, actually." "What are you talking about?" She was getting agitated now and more than a little defensive. I took a breath and sighed it out thinking of how to best proceed without messing this up any further than it already was; I still had to stick around and help her out after this was worked out. "Can we do this another way?" She understood my meaning and nodded as she moved to the center of the open area and stretched out her arms. I dropped my jacket on the chair next to hers and rolled my shoulders to pop them before stepping in front of her to square off. We started moving and talking at the same time. My mind kicked in as I became attuned to her movements and could see what her next move was going to be, and soon her feelings as well. I turned the conversation to what I really wanted to know, but I had to lead into it. "I want you to know that no matter how this ends I'll still be there for you." She nodded in return as our blows and blocks punctuated the conversation, lending to the inherent rhythm of our dance. "What are you doing, Buffy?" I asked her.
"I don't know."
"I mean with Spike; what are you doing with Spike?" At her sharp intake of breath I looked at her face.
"How long have you known?"
"Two days ago."
"Who else knows?"
"No one." We were silent for a long pregnant moment, only the sounds of our feet and hands reverberating from the walls around us. "I wanted to tell you; so many times I wanted to tell you." I could sense her regret easily and couldn't really blame her considering the source of this argument, but there was more I needed to know.
"How long has it been going on?"
"I don't know. Not long, but long enough. Too long." We were moving more focused now, both of us fighting more with our emotions and the strength of our blows reflecting the same. The tempo of the fight began to increase and we began to take more hits instead of blocking them. She clocked me a good one forcing me to step back and I tasted blood as I stepped right back into the fray. The pace increased again and we weren't talking anymore or actually thinking of ways to fix the problem, only trying to beat the problem to death. I ducked under her punch and stepped forward nailing her in the chest with my right and knocking her down. I was expecting her to spring to her feet and come at me, but she stayed down and was breathing heavily. She looked up at me from the floor and asked me a very hard question. "So what do you want to do now?" The room was so utterly silent; I could actually hear her heartbeat as she waited for my response. I wanted to take her in my arms, but doing that would only betray myself. I wanted to kiss her and forget all of this had ever happened, but life doesn't work like that. This problem wouldn't be solved easily. I sat down ignoring the stinging of the sweat in my facial cut. "I don't know. I didn't see this coming. I mean, it's Spike." Her eyes welled up. "I know its Spike, okay. I know. But it doesn't mean anything. He... doesn't mean anything. "Do you love him?" "How could you even think that?"
"I saw you together, Buffy. Twice. And you called me after the first time asking me when I was going to be there to share your bed." I watched it sink in and regretted the pain I saw in her face. I sighed again and tried to take a mental step back into friend mode and out of hurt boyfriend mode. I changed my tone and tried to keep emotion out of my voice as I asked her.
"Did you want to tell me about it?" I wasn't trying to accuse her anymore; I simply wanted to find out more. I could tell she took it the wrong way by her face, but she was strong in her conviction.
"I came back wrong."
"No, you didn't we've been over this."
"You're wrong, I am different. I'm wrong. I feel different and I think different. I'm doing things that I shouldn't be doing and I don't know why."
"Like Spike?"
"Yes... like Spike."
"Do you love him Buffy? It's okay if you love him." Was it? I'd said it, but did I believe it?
"I don't love him. He's just, more like me. Or I'm more like him now. It's different." "Did it ever occur to you what it would mean if you didn't come back wrong?" She was silent for a minute and she stood up to look down on me. "Look, I guess it doesn't matter to you, but I'm sorry; I'm so sorry for what I've done. What I did... to you."
"How can you think it doesn't matter to me? I still love you, Buffy. I'm just trying to figure out if I can still trust us to be together. Can I? Can I trust you Buffy?"
"What Spike and I have... had was wrong, I know that. I know it shouldn't have happened, but when I was with him, it felt more right." I faltered as her punch arced past my face and caught her follow up square on the chest. I stepped backward and then back in quickly to pick up the rhythm again. She caught my hesitation and quickly tried to clarify herself. "He doesn't mean anything to me. He never did, he was just... convenient."
"And what am I?" "You're... different. You're there to look out for me; I feel safe around you. Spike can't give me that. Spike can't take me out in the sun. When I'm with Spike he makes me feel... bad." She couldn't meet my eyes as she told me how she felt. So where do we go from here?" I asked as I straightened. "I don't know. What do you want to do?" What did I want to do? Don't go there, I told myself; I knew what I should do. "I think we should take it kind of slow for a while, be friends. Wait a few days and see where we go from there. I love you Buffy, and I want you to know that if we're together, then we're together. But I want you to decide if you still want Spike before trying to come see me again." She didn't seem to like that too much. She reared back with her right, hit me with her left and then knocked me across the room with her right. I knew it was coming, but took it anyway and got up slowly as she gave me a hand up. I pulled her in close to me and kissed her lightly before letting her go. She leaned into the kiss, turning it into something more before I broke it off. Where had her lips been already today? "I'll call you." She said, turned to grab her jacket and was gone, hurt evident on her face. I stood there shaking for a few seconds, trying to get my physical reaction under control before grabbing my jacket and heading out through the shop to my car. I needed another shower and planned on lots of cold water. After I got out I went first to the bed and pulled out the last sketch I'd been working on, Buffy and me together smiling; I liked that one. Then I went to the bottle to have a few swigs before heading out for some food. I'd planned on an early night for once, but that wasn't meant to be. My phone went off at about twelve thirty as I was leaving the burger joint for the second night in a row; I'd pay for that later.
It was Dawn on the other end and she was way worried. She said that Buffy'd told her that she'd hurt somebody, a girl, and that she was going to the police. She begged me not to let Buffy turn herself in. I told her I would try and not to worry before I hung up. I was calling Max on my way down to the station and I lucked out again; he was on duty. I told him that if he saw a blond by the name of Buffy he should stall her and wait till I got there. He sounded confused, but agreed before I hung up again shoved the pedal down further.
I pulled up and squealed the tires as I barely stopped in the parking slot. I looked around frantically for her before heading inside and seeing Max. He shook his head at me from across the room and I went back outside in time to see her coming around the corner and get pulled backward by Spike. I rushed after them, but stopped to lean around the corner to listen, whatever she decided I would stick with but that didn't mean I couldn't get the inside scoop. Besides, I had to know what I was dealing with here.
"I have to tell them what happened."
"Nothing happened."
"I killed that girl."
"Demons in the woods, time going wonky, I'm sure they'll believe that." So Spike was there when it happened. It seemed like he was trying to stop her from turning herself in. I walked back into the station to find Max and ask him what was going on tonight. He mentioned the murder of a twenty something girl named Katrina. I asked him about cause of death and he said unknown, they'd just found the body, but it looked a few days old. I told him to put it down as suicide, sounded like she'd done a bridge bit. He nodded and said that was the working theory. He looked at me sideways and asked if that was what really happened. I nodded and he bent to his paperwork as I headed out. I made it out into the alley in time to see Buffy standing over Spike beating him and shouting that she was not his girl, could never be his girl. I saw him try and stand up, looking around through swollen eyes as he called out for her. I stepped on him as I made my way to her and wrapped her up in my arms. She leaned against me drawing strength for a second, but my mental suggestion didn't hold and she fought her way out of my embrace and squared her shoulders to walk resolutely toward the front of the building.
We walked in together and I stood behind her without touching her but made sure that she felt my presence. We approached the desk and I nodded at Max as he made his way to speak to the desk sergeant who looked at the phone and picked it up nodding back at Max. Buffy glanced back at me and I put my hand on her back. The sergeant complained to the voice on the other end that it was busy and then asked him about a confirmed ID on the body. He said her name again and it didn't mean anything more to me from the first time I'd heard it, but I felt Buffy stiffen under my hand. She turned toward me and her face was cold and angry.
"Warren." She said and walked past me heading out the door. She was getting in the car as I came out and I glanced at the alley, seeing nothing, before getting in myself. I drove us back to her house in silence. I got out at her house and followed her up to the front door. I held back at the door, though, and she turned to face me as I stopped.
"Could you please... I just. I don't want to be alone right now." I heard the need in her voice and nodded following her in and directly upstairs. I kept my pants on as did she and we both lay down on top of the covers. Time enough to puzzle everything out tomorrow; tonight was for comfort and sleep. I slept better that night than I had all week, with her in my arms and her warm weight pressed close against the chill in my heart.
We were gathered at the magic box the next day; all of the Scoobies, Dawn and myself included. Spike was conspicuously absent. I tuned in on Anya as she explained about this type of demon Buffy said she'd been fighting right before it happened. As soon as she said temporal disturbance my ears perked up, the phrase 'Time going wonky' echoing through my head. Buffy was nodding as Anya described the effect they have on our dimension and close contact with the people in it.
"So these things just made you think you killed her." Willow was amazingly helpful in calming Buffy down.
"Yeah, she was probably dead long before you stumbled across her." I'd gotten up early that morning after we'd been asleep for a few hours. After calling Max still working the night shift I'd gone over to see the body first hand. Looked to me like it had been an earlier killing than when Buffy'd had her encounter. The official report would be death from a fall but the detective Max introduced me to had told me it looked more like a homicide, but without the evidence there wasn't a whole lot he could do. I made it back without Buffy noticing I was gone, I hope. I glanced at Dawn sitting beside me on the steps and leaning against the guardrail but her face was pensive. I put my arm around her shoulders.
"It wasn't the demon, it was Warren. He knew Katrina, he had something to do with this I know it."
"How can you be sure?"
"You always hurt the ones you love." I felt something from her across the mental link I hadn't quite realized was still there. She thought of me.
"Does this mean you're not going away?" Dawn beside me kept her gaze from meeting her sister's as she asked the question.
"I'm not going anywhere." Buffy stood up as she spoke and walked toward us, but Dawn shrugged off my arm from her shoulders and stood up to walk away.
"Give her time, Buffy." She nodded at me and turned to face her friends.
"We need to find Warren and the others. Whatever they did they're not going to get away with it. The group broke up heading in their separate directions. I collected Dawn from the back room and she sat silently in the backseat of the car on the way back to the house. I dropped them off to give them the time to talk and I headed out to the gun range to focus myself. I took a place at the end of the range away from the other shooters and put my target onto the moveable brace to send it down range. I emptied my first magazine, reloaded and shot through my second before putting down the pistol and bringing back my target. I discarded that paper silhouette and put up another to repeat the process. I spent quite a few hours there before I left smelling of smokeless gunpowder; one of the best smells I know of. I did finally make it back to the apartment to clean and lube my pistol and then myself before heading over to Buffy's house.
I stood nervously outside her door for a second, wondering if I should be there. Finally I reached up and knocked. Buffy answered quickly, seeming eager to see me. I smiled but hers dimmed.
"I'm sorry; I wasn't really expecting you back tonight. I was kinda waiting for someone else." Who? Spike? I felt my Irish rise up a little, but held back. It was still her choice.
"I – should I leave?"
"No! No, come in. I'm waiting for Tara. We have something to talk about." She waved me in and I walked past her into the living room. I sat down on the couch looking up at her, trying to find a place to start but before I could open my mouth the doorbell rang and Buffy answered it to let Tara in.
"Could you, maybe, wait in the kitchen? I just really need to talk with Tara and I'll be right there." I nodded and stood up, saying hello to Tara as I walked by her and into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water and sat down to think. I couldn't hear anything they said, but my link to Buffy was still open and I felt enough through it to know it wasn't Tara's problem they were talking about. I felt a sense of confusion and denial at first, but that shortly became humiliation and overwhelming regret. I waited a few minutes to see if I could pick up anything more specific but finally I just couldn't stand it and went into the living room to see Buffy crying with her face in Tara's lap. My eyes went to Tara looking up at me.
"What happened? Is she okay?" Tara nodded and Buffy sniffed loudly. I moved behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders as I kneeled down beside her. She picked her head up and moved suddenly to wrap her arms around me and squeeze. I heard her in my head begging me not to forgive her, but I brushed it aside and pushed my own feelings across our link to her. Her breath caught in her throat as I felt her realization echo across to me. She pulled me to herself tighter than before and she began to whisper how sorry she was she had used us both. My eyes went to Tara still sitting on the couch as she leaned forward to wrap her arms around both of us, seeming about to cry herself. We sat there for a few minutes until I moved to stand us up and Tara released us. She told us she would see us later and with a look at me went out the door closing it behind her. I picked Buffy up in my arms resting her head against my shoulder and carried her upstairs and to her bed. I slowly undressed her and laid her down in her bed before undressing myself and lying down next to her, pulling her close to me. She'd cried herself out and was laying there silently next to me as our thoughts intertwined, and I relaxed us off into sleep.