Chapter 12: Dingo's and Disaster.
"Buffy!" Spike hammered his fists against the door of her hotel room, "Buffy! Buffy! Please just let me in, about last night, I'm sorry! I just want to talk! God Buffy, please…"
Spike almost fell through the door as Willow opened it, "she left already," she said sympathetically, "taxi," she clarified at his confused look. Running his hands through his hair, Spike slumped against the wall and sank to his knees in defeat, "I screwed up big time Red," he muttered, "there's no coming back from this."
Instantly, Willow knelt down next to him, "no…no…you haven't… It'll all be ok," she said soothingly as she patted his shoulder. Spike's head lolled to the side and he raised a quizzical eyebrow, "Yeah, and what makes you so sure?" he scoffed.
"You're Spike and Buffy," Willow stated as if that held the answers to everything, "there's this… bond between you and it's sort of like backache."
"Huh!" Spike grunted.
"You can't see it, but you know it's there," Willow clarified, "and nothing's going to break that bond," she adjusted her position so she was sat more comfortably and placed an arm around him, "take me and Xander, do you think a little fight would break up our friendship?" She paused and Spike shook his head, "well then, there you go! Just give it some time."
"You've been friends a lot longer than Buffy and I." Spike commented.
"It's got nothing to do with time, it's about the people." Willow said matter-of-factly.
"When did you get so wise?" Spike smirked.
"I've always been wise, just never had much imparting opportunities," she said giving Spike a look, and then flashing him a goofy smile, "you want to come for pancakes?"
Buffy had risen with the dawn. She couldn't face anyone after last night, least of all Spike. Leaving Willow a note, she slipped out of the room and took a taxi down town to the address she had for her father. She'd regretted that decision almost immediately.
He'd opened the door to her as if she were a stranger. Sure he'd invited her in and made small talk with her whilst she drank her tea but the whole situation felt strained and uncomfortable. It was not the father daughter reunion she had hoped for.
After the horrific visit, Buffy had killed a few hours in a coffee bar and then decided to head over to Angel's. She ran up the steps to his flat. After the fourth flight she stopped to catch her breath. It was a dingy little apartment block, that clearly hadn't been decorated since the middle ages. Horrible mustard coloured wall paper, with floral prints was peeling off the wall like rotting flesh and the mauve carpet had stains splattered all over, that Buffy was nervous about where she stepped.
Wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, Buffy stopped just outside the front door. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and concentrated on the reason she was here. She forced all thoughts of her father and his new family to one side. It was her and Angel's anniversary and she wanted it to be perfect.
She thought about how it felt when he first asked her out, their first date, how she felt when he gave her the ring and the words he had spoken. A grin broke out on to her face. She imagined his arms around her. She was ready and so desperately sure she wanted him to be her first. He would make everything better.
Crouching down, Buffy lifted up the tatty old welcome mat and picked up the spare key. She slipped it in the lock and turned the door knob, letting herself in. She allowed herself another smile when she saw the state of the place and shook her head in mock disapproval. The living area was littered with so many clothes, crisp and sweet wrappers decorated the floor and the sink was a giant game of jennga. Buffy almost regretted not telling him she was coming. He might have tidied the place up a bit if she had. She shrugged it off, he was going to be so happy when he saw her, "Angel," she called as she walked further into the flat. She didn't bother taking her shoes off, it was probably safer to keep them on. Buffy walked slowly around, it was the first time she'd been inside Angel's new flat, not that there was much to look at.
Once she reached the living room, she heard muffled noises coming from the bedroom. Buffy smiled, at least that meant he was home. She took another few steps and then froze. She could hear Angel, she couldn't make out anything in particular, but there was something else. Buffy's eyes travelled in the direction of the bedroom. There was more than one voice.
A million thoughts ran through her head. What was going on? Did she even want to know? Tentatively, Buffy walked a little further along the landing. The noises were growing louder now and Buffy was starting to panic. Unwanted thoughts invaded her mind. She tried to ignore them but the closer she got the more they persisted. Her eyes landed on the bedroom door. The noises were definitely coming from there. She realised at that point that the bedroom door wasn't fully closed.
Her mind and heart were racing. She felt numb. Absentmindedly, she felt her hand move forwards. Her finger tips rested on the wooden panel. If she didn't open the door, she might never be able to shake the horrible what if's that were filling up inside her but if she did open the door, she might not like what she found. Before she even realised she was doing it, Buffy pushed the door open. It creaked quietly. Her heart stopped.
Her gaze wandered along the floor, noting the clothes scattered haphazardly; jeans, t-shirts and underwear. Buffy started to feel her stomach twist as her eyes travelled along the bed. Angel was lying there, his breathing slow, laboured. The silk sheets did not leave much to be desired. A slim, tanned hand was resting on his pale sweaty abs and that's when Buffy saw it. Reflecting the rays of moonlight, a ring twinkled. Buffy didn't need to look at the one on her own hand. She'd seen it often enough. Buffy's whole body was shaking. How could this be happening?
Buffy felt sick, "A...Angel," she stuttered. Warm tears trickled down her flushed cheeks. Her knees began to buckle and she steadied herself against the door frame for support. Up until now, Angel had remained completely oblivious to her presence. At the mention of his name, he lifted his head. Their eyes locked for a brief second. It was all Buffy could take. "How could you?" she whispered her tone both full of despair and anger. Angel made to cover himself and took a step towards her. She took three back and raised her hand, silencing him before he could even open his mouth, "Don't… just don't." With that Buffy turned and ran straight out of the apartment, down the steps and into the night.
Buffy ambled through the darkened streets of LA, the cold night air nipping harshly at her blotchy cheeks. She hugged her denim jacket closer to her. Occasionally, a group of friends or a couple would pass her chatting animatedly and she would divert her gaze. They sky was illuminated by the row of street lamps, restaurants were closed and an assortment of sounds were emerging from night clubs and casinos. Buffy wasn't sure how long she'd been walking. She wasn't even sure where she was. She'd raced out of Angel's apartment in a blind panic. All she knew was that she had to get as far away as possible, only slowing when she physically couldn't run any further.
Her head was pounding like a hammer on an anvil. Her eyes were barren. She felt she had cried every last tear she had. Now she just felt numb. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days had gone from bad to awful.
Her father had a whole new family and wanted nothing to do with her. The one man in her life that was always supposed to be there and he had abandoned her. She felt worthless. She'd gone to Angel's seeking comfort and love only to find that he thought just as little of her. They'd been an item for a year and friends before that. Had all those promises he'd made been empty? He'd betrayed her in the worst possible way and yet she missed him. Everything that they had had. She couldn't just forget. Even her happy memories of him were tainted now. They stung almost as much as the image of him with another woman. He was the love of her life and she'd been stupid enough to think she was his. She'd embarked on this trip as a confident young woman and now she was a child. A broken little girl who just wanted her mother.
She reached into her pocket for her phone and as she looked she saw Spikes' name at the top of her contacts. Her finger hovered over the button. He'd be at the Dingo's concert now, not that it would matter to him. A smile flickered on her face but died almost instantly. Spike had been right. He'd been right about the whole thing and she'd disbelieved him, called him a liar and so many other things. Looking at his name usually brought a smile to her face, but this time it brought forth more tears. They burst forth like a fountain as she remembered the fight they had had last night. Buffy's phone slipped out of her unstable grasp as she crumbled into herself. Hugging herself tightly because she was alone. Spike probably hated her now. Her best friend hated her.
As her mind wandered, so did her feet. Her phone lay on the floor completely forgotten. Buffy didn't notice the phone start to ring. She didn't see Spike's image flash on the screen amid the splashes of rain. She drifted through the streets like a phantom with the rain masking her tears. She didn't realise where she was going, nor did she care. She just kept putting one foot in front of the other. She just kept wandering, right into the road and an oncoming car.