Spike/Mrs.William "Trying..."

[pepperlandgirl]

Spike was thinking about Buffy when she called. He was thinking about the way she looked when he drove off last, leaving her there. She had looked like someone had torn her heart out—like he had torn her heart out—and stomped on it—pulverized it. He couldn’t stop thinking about her sad eyes, dry but still heartbreaking. You did that to her. You hurt her like that. You.

But what had he expected, really? He would hurt her somehow either way. Or she would wake up one morning and realize it was all wrong, he was all wrong, and she would leave. She was already almost there…almost ready to leave him. Just a matter of time, and maybe it would hurt less this way.

He was all tied up with her when she called. It was a shock to his system when he answered the phone and it was her sweet voice—soft and hesitant.

“Spike? I need you to give me a lift…I wouldn’t ask, but I really need to get over to the other side of the freeway, and I’m not sure which bus I should take…And you said to call. If it’s not too much of a hassle that is.”

“What time?”

“I need to be over there by five.”

“I’ll be over in 30.”

Even as he spoke the words he wondered what the hell he was doing. It kind of defeated the purpose of being separated if he went running to her every time she called. But it wouldn’t be fair to her to leave her stranded, and it wouldn’t hurt to see her and make sure she was fine.

Ok, it would hurt. Like a bitch. The doubts and guilt that had been plaguing him for the past five years had somehow managed to multiply and grow in the past two weeks. Every minute he spent away from Buffy made it worse, but he didn’t realize that. He was convinced that things were getting more and more clear, rather than more muddled and complicated. He believed that he was gaining amazing insight and understanding on their relationship, from start to finish, but he was really losing perspective of who they were—apart and together.

Spike showed up at her place exactly 30 minutes later. She was waiting for him outside. She looked lovely, as usual. He was swept with the strong urge to kiss her. It was a need like something he hadn’t really felt before. She smiled a greeting as she climbed into the car. He gripped the wheel because if he didn’t he would grab her and it would make things so much worse.

Don’t do it. Don’t look at her. It’s not worth it. Don’t be selfish. Because that’s what this is…selfish. Don’t. Stop… He was staring at her, breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. Her body instantly responded to his obvious desire.
Ok, she thought, this was a really bad idea. Locking yourself in a small space with him…a really, really bad idea. The worst idea in the history of the world, because you won’t be able to stop yourself…

“Sorry,” he whispered as he leaned in, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, seeking her heat. Their lips touched, and for just that moment, his reservations fell away. For just a moment, he was happy again, and he knew what he wanted, and he knew what he needed, and he didn’t feel like he was being torn into a hundred different directions.

Spike broke the kiss first, but Buffy felt the loss the most.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, as way of apology.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not…I’m not…”

“It seems like we are.”

“Where do you have to go?’

“Nowhere.”

“What?”

“I needed to see you again.”

“So you pulled me away from work and everything else?”

“What everything else? Do you even do anything anymore? Do you even have any fun anymore?”

“Buffy, I don’t mind helping you if you need me…”

“I do need you, Spike. I need you to come home now.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just…You’ll understand…”

“When? I doubt this will ever make sense Spike. You’re confusing me with your mixed signals.”

“My mixed signals?”

“Yes. You leave me but you plan on going to graduation. You agree to go out with me, but then you won’t talk to me. You kiss me then you apologize. What am I supposed to think, Spike?”

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“Then why are you?”

“I can’t be with you either.”

“Why not?”

“Buffy…”

She sighed and leaned back on the head rest of the seat. Spike lit a cigarette. Neither spoke for a long time.

“Compromise then,” she eventually said. “I was serious about dating before, Spike. Our first meal wasn’t…the best…but I don’t want to give up.”

“Why, Buffy?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you want to give up on me?”

“Because I love you…”

That was obviously not the answer he wanted to hear—but the one he expected nonetheless. He angrily ground his cigarette out and flicked it out the window. “Not worth it,” he muttered.

“What’s not worth it, Spike?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” He sighed and reached for another cigarette, but he was out. Nervous, frustrated, he began tapping his fingers on the wheel. Buffy frowned at his agitation. Gently, she reached over and wrapped his fingers in her, stilling them. He didn’t pull away from her like she expected. He didn’t move or say anything.

“Spike I need you to come inside with me. I want to take you to bed, but I’ll settle for cooking you dinner. Can I cook you dinner?”

“Buffy, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Let me tell you then. Just come inside with me. We’ll take it from there, ok?”

He couldn't argue with her. He didn't know how. “Yeah, Buffy, ok.”