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Spike was gone when Buffy got home on Friday, but his note promised that he would be back early and they could “spend the evening together.” Right, I’ll be lucky if he’s home by ten. Mildly depressed and bored, she thought about going over to Tara’s, but dismissed that idea. She wasn’t in a very social mood anymore. She thought about stuffing her face with cookies and watching a movie, but that didn’t sound appealing either.
She wanted to spend time with him, damnit. The next best thing to actually being with him was to hang out in his office. She had gotten in the habit of spending time in there, even when she wasn’t going through his notebooks. She liked to be surrounded by everything that made him him. She liked the smell of the cigarette smoke mingling with leather bound books, the way his chair felt, the organized chaos of his desk. She was very comfortable there. He’s not going to be around for awhile anyway, might as well…
Buffy settled in his big, soft leather chair, a soda in one hand and his blue notebook in the other. It had been a while since she had read through that one, and she knew there were some poems she hadn’t had a chance to read at all. They were in the section that was, as far as she can tell, immediately after he left her and those were still painful to read. Not all of his work from that time had made it to a publisher.
147 days without your touch
my own personal hell.
or penance, perhaps, for the days
and nights spent in your embrace.
with you as my teacher, i your pupil.
were ever the lessons so harsh; so pure?
i tried to read your lips a thousand times,
for my own benefit, and am not well-read.
it's never enough.
i ought to learn.
Buffy had noticed that the poems that had made it were extremely vague to the point of obscurity. The more specific ones were carefully put away, and that realization just served to increase her guilt about the whole situation.
She had her back to the door, facing the window, and she was reciting the words quietly to herself, re-reading the poem until she had it memorized. “Were ever the lessons so harsh; so—
“What are you doing?”
Buffy’s lips froze. Her fingers went numb. She closed her eyes, silently cursing. Fuck, fuck double fuckity fuck. She desperately sought for an answer, but nothing came to mind before Spike spun the chair around, revealing her and her sin. The notebook was open on her lap, the words glaring.
“Spike…”
“What are you doing?” His spoke slowly, his voice tight yet oddly soft. Buffy didn’t know how to answer him. He plucked the notebook off of her lap, closed it, and calmly set it on the desk. His eyes skimmed over the surface of his desk and his bookshelf, making sure that nothing else had been disturbed. Then he turned back to her. “Buffy? What are you doing?”
“I was reading…”
“You need to get out of my office now.”
“Spike.”
“Please, just, get out.”
“Spike, let me explain, ok?”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t think I can talk to you right now. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“I get that you’re angry…”
He snorted. “I’m not angry, Buffy.” Spike looked at her, and she was struck by how sad his eyes were. “Not angry, but I’m going to be if you don’t get out of here.”
“If you’re not angry…”
Spike walked across the room and opened the door. “Not right now. I cannot deal with you right now.”
Buffy stood up and silently walked out of the room. She jumped when the door slam shut behind her. She wiped a tear from her eye, shaken by his reaction. Anger she could deal with. If he yelled, she could yell back at least. But this…he was shaking when he opened the door. His hand was shaking and his jaw was clenched, but she suspected that it wasn’t anger--his eyes…God his eyes…
I fucked up. Big time. Big fucking time. She could almost hear all the barriers that she had worked so hard to tear down slam back into place. Every bit of progress they made had been nullified because she was stupid and selfish. Anger she could deal with, but not the shaking hurt she saw reflected in his eyes.
She knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything that night. He really didn’t want to see her, and she couldn’t blame him. She decided to pack an overnight bag and go to Tara’s for the evening. Maybe two. Maybe by the time she came back, Spike would be able to talk to her.
She was pulling some sweats out of the dresser when her notebook caught her eye. Perhaps if she…? She picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. Nearly completely full now with her most private thoughts, fears, hopes, dreams, emotions, and longings. Silly poems that made her blush to read, silly fantasies that made her blush for different reasons. Everything that he inspired in her, for better or worse. It was only fair, wasn’t it?
She finished packing and called Tara to tell her she was coming. She dropped the bag off by the front door so she could make a quick escape and then, clutching the notebook tightly, went back to his office. It took several seconds to gather her courage before she knocked softly and opened the door.
“I know,” she said quickly, “that you don’t want me here right now.” She swallowed hard, suddenly afraid that he wouldn’t want her there anymore at all. “I know, I just have to…here. Take this. This is why I was in your office, reading your stuff. If you’re interested…if you care about my explanation…read it. I’m going to Tara’s for the night…I’m sorry Spike. I never meant…”
He watched her silently, not responding to her at all. He didn’t even reach for the notebook. She set it down on his desk.
“I’ll probably come back tomorrow night…you can tell me then…” Buffy paused, unable to finish that sentence. “I love you, Spike, and I am sorry.” I hope you can forgive me.
When he still didn’t respond, she turned and fled his office and the house.
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From:
Poor Buffy.
From:
no subject
But, poor both of them. If they'd just communicate more, this wouldn't happen, would it?
From:
caught
he'll forgiver her, eventually. and hopefully be able to trust her again. (unless you are a lying bitch and there really isn't a part 4, in fact it'll end with a bitter divorce.)
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
But I have to more RIGHT NOW.
From:
no subject