Disclaimer: I don't own, and no matter how much I play pretend it's never gonna happen.

Betrayal

Chapter Six

The bars of Cleveland were proving to be disappointing. The alcohol was proving to make Spike even sorrier for himself and less of a balm to his wounds. However, while the alcohol might have been insufficient to soothe him, the women of Cleveland were more than happy to do the job instead. It was a pity he wasn't in a place to enjoy their attention. Apparently there was something about his hangdog look that was particularly attractive.

"Penny for your thoughts," a smiling, pretty, dark haired woman said, as she took a seat next to him at the bar.

Spike laughed depreciatingly. "You don't want to know, pet."

She gave him a knowing smile. "Women trouble."

"Something like that," he mumbled. "My girlfriend cheated on me."

"I could make you forget all about that bitch," she leaned over and whispered in his ear, giving him a bird's eye view of her cleavage in the process.

"Sorry, love." Spike declined her offer. "I may be mad as hell, but the problem is that I still love the bint. 'Sides no offence, women are more trouble then they're worth."

She didn't look like a woman who was much used to rejection. She curled her lip at his response. "I'm worth a lot of trouble, but it's your loss."

She was gone with a flick of hair. However, Spike had already directed his attention back to his empty glass. He requested another tumbler of whiskey. He planned on being really drunk as quickly as possible. Once the barman gave him his drink, he spotted an empty table in a secluded corner. He could avoid the ministrations of nosy bints and the idle chit chat of other drunks. Then when he was proper pissed, he could head out and kill something nasty. That was the pattern of most of his nights these days and despite the well-meaning concern from his friends, he planned on continuing to follow the plan for the coming nights. He wasn't ready to go back to Scotland just yet. He couldn't face her or make up his mind about their future. Instead, he drank as much alcohol as he could and he fought till he bled.

Several hours and whiskeys later, Spike was having the time of his life battling a Groxlar demon. The huge, horned, demon lunged at the vampire. It was incredibly strong and it threw him a foot in the air. Spike landed in a heap, but jumped up immediately.

"Well Beastie, you've obviously had your Weetabix this morning." Spike gave the snarling demon a grin and punched it hard in the stomach. "It so happens, I did too."

The Groxlar lost its balance, however, quickly recovered.

Spike just stood there smirking at the irate creature. The alcohol was making him even more confident than usual. "You want me? Come and get me."

The Groxlar was just about to make a move for him, when a female form came from behind and dispatched the demon with a snap of its neck. "What the fuck, Spike?"

"Faith," he whined. "I was in control there. Why did you have to come and ruin my fun."

The dark haired slayer rolled her eyes. "We've been looking for you, Blondie."

Spike took out a cigarette and lit it. "Found me. So what you want or do we have to stand here all night?"

"You are coming back to Gunn's with me, now," she ordered. "You've obviously been fighting, and you're too drunk to look after yourself."

Spike gave her an incredulous look. "I've been looking after myself for two hundred years, pet. Don't need any help."

Still, he went with her. Slayers were bloody, bossy bints. The walk back to Gunn's was quiet and Spike could feel the numbing feeling of the alcohol beginning to wane. About a yard away from the house, Faith finally spoke. "Spike you're an asshole."

Spike shrugged. "Thanks ever so."

"I mean you're obviously mooning after B. You want her? Then fight for her. There's no point waiting around for to save your sorry ass."

The vampire shook his head. "Maybe I don't want her back?"

The slayer rolled her eyes skyward. "Then get over her already!"

He glared at her defiant. "Getting over her right now."

Faith raised a quizzical brow at his expression. She shook her head and smiled. "Good. Does this mean that you're out of your guilt ridden strop enough to race me?"

Spike grinned. "I'm going to show you how fast my sorry ass can run."

Slayer and vampire took off – each determined to best the other.

Over the next couple of days, Spike was more like himself. As much as he hated to admit it, Faith had had a point when she told him off. He found himself ruminating over what she had said frequently. Maybe it was about time he faced up to the inevitable. No amount of procrastinating would change anything. Buffy cheated on him with Angel. He had to forgive her or cut his ties with once and for all. He didn't know which it would be. The only way he would find out was by returning home. That was why two weeks later Spike pulled up outside their house. If his heart could beat, it would be racing about now. Before Spike could even get out his car, the front door swung open to reveal an unhappy Angel and a surprised looking Buffy. He reacted on instinct and flew out of the car unable to restrain himself from attacking his grandsire. He took a fierce swing at Angel, felling the man with a blow. Angel jumped back to his feet and responded with a punch of his own.

"Is that the best you've got?" Spike smirked maliciously. "Oh yeah, you're human now!" Buffy sighed impatiently and pulled them apart. She turned to Angel. "You, okay?" she asked him. Spike felt another pang in his heart at her attentions to former vampire. Then she rounded on him. "What do you think you're doing? He's human now. He can't fight back."

Spike recoiled at her words stepping backward. He narrowed his eyes. "It never used to stop you, pet. If I remember rightly you quite enjoyed beating on a vampire that couldn't fight back."

He felt some satisfaction and a little guilt at the hurt look on her face. He tore his eyes away from her, and turned to Angel, who appeared shocked at his revelation. "You don't know her, not really. I'm done with this shit. You're welcome to her." His tone was cool, which was nothing like the warring emotions within him. I'm an idiot. Why the hell did I come back? She still loves him-the bitch. He turned sharply on his heel. No sooner than he had taken one step he felt a small yet powerful hand on his shoulder pulling him fiercely around to face her.

"You're an ass hole." Her eyes glinted angrily. "I'm not some prize to be won. I decide who I want, and I want you. God knows why but I do. I'm in the wrong here, I know. I fucked up a good thing."

He wanted to believe her. He moved away from her. She was too close and he couldn't think clearly. "I really wish I could hate you, Slayer. I get real angry and then you stand there all red eyed and I just want to hold you and take the pain away. I can't though. You did this to us, Buffy."

She reached out to touch his face tenderly. "I know, and if I could take it all back, then I would. Please forgive me."

"It is not as simple as that!" His voice was raised. He closed his eyes and took an unneeded breath. When he spoke again his voice was softer. "I could forgive you anything, love, but I don't think I can trust you anymore."

"I forgave you a lot worse," she whispered.

His eyes narrowly dangerously, but he was unable to mask the hurt expression on his face. He had never been able to hide his feelings very well.

"Oh Spike, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." She looked truly devastated at her slip.

With that he turned and left a bereft slayer in his wake. He could hear her crying and it took all his resolve not to go back.

Dawn and Michael had kindly offered to let him stay with them for a few days, but he had wanted to get the reunion with Buffy over and done with first. He had been planning on having a real heart to heart with her but the appearance of Angel had really deflated him.

He arrived at Dawn and Michael's place and rang the doorbell. The door flew open and two small bodies were upon him. "Uncle Spike!" The two children almost bowled him over in their enthusiasm. Dawn appeared behind them smiling apologetically at her children's exuberance. Spike picked them up and swung them around.

Two pairs of little eyes starred up at him. The little boy looked hopefully. "Did you bring us presents?"

"Of course, I did."

The two whooped with delight but Dawn hunted them off to get ready for bed. "Presents can wait. Spike needs some time to relax. Shoo."

She turned concerned to him. "How did things go?"

His face fell at her words. "Not great. Captain Forehead was there."

"Oh." Dawn gave his hand a warm squeeze. "Did you get a chance to talk to her?"

"Not yet." He smiled weakly. "Can we just talk about something else? What have the little Bits been up to while Uncle Spike was back in Uncle Sam?"

It wasn't long before he was chuckling. Dawn's kids had inherited her cheek and their antics had him smiling. He had missed this. For the first time since he had seen Angel and Buffy come out of the house together, he had glad to be back. With or without Buffy, this was still his home and Dawn and her little posse were still his family.

To be continued…

Author's note:

Before the calls for chopping off Buffy's head, I ought to tell you that Buffy's side of the story will be explained in the next chapter.