Chapter 51: So Sorry
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The meeting was short, something Spike was thankful for. Because he intended to continue in his pursuit of convincing Buffy that everything would be okay. That it was alright to be scared, but that they owed it to themselves to give it another try. A proper try.
There was no way Spike was letting her go, not when he’d just gotten her back.
Which brought up the fact that they hadn’t actually talked about getting back together last night, things had just happened. Well, he was going to make sure Buffy knew that’s exactly what he considered last night to be.
Spike had been so wrapped up in his thoughts of Buffy he hadn’t realised the others were leaving until Brian clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go man, get our stuff and get ready.”
“Yeah,” Spike replied distractedly, looking over at Buffy. “I’ll follow in a sec.”
Brian left with a shrug, and Spike got to his feet, approaching Buffy.
“Can I speak to you for a minute please Coach?” he overheard her say. Then she turned and fixed her stare on him and Spike froze. “In private.”
“Of course,” Coach Jones replied immediately. “Will, get the door on your way out.”
Realising he was effectively dismissed, and fighting to stay in the room would make him look like a complete ass, Spike obeyed.
And waited outside the door.
~*~*~
“You did a great job last night,” Coach praised. She took a seat at the conference table and gestured for Buffy to do the same. She began shuffling some papers, collecting the registration material together in preparation of leaving.
Buffy sat, twisting the sleeves of her jumper between her hands. “Thanks.”
This was harder than she thought. A large part of her wanted to just say ‘sorry, it’s nothing’, and walk out. But that wouldn’t change the circumstances of why she needed to talk to Coach. She’d put a lot of faith in her, by putting her on the swim team without trials, and Buffy felt she owed it to Coach Jones to tell her in person.
Seeing the hesitation in Buffy’s eyes, Coach prompted her. “So, what’s on your mind?”
That’s a loaded question… Buffy thought to herself, before shrugging it away. She had to say her piece before the courage to do so failed her. Taking a deep breath she forced the words she didn’t want to say from her mouth. “I just wanted to let you know that this will be my last meet.”
Buffy instantly had Coach’s undivided attention, and she squirmed beneath the concerned stare.
“You’re giving up swimming?”
“Yes,” Buffy replied, before shaking her head. “No.”
At Coach’s frown Buffy continued weakly. “It’s complicated.”
Coach’s brow furrowed further. “Does this have anything to do with the accident?”
“Oh no, not at all,” Buffy assured quickly, becoming frustrated with herself. “I’m not doing this right.”
“Take a breath, start from the beginning.”
~*~*~
Ten minutes had passed. Ten whole freakin’ minutes.
What could they be talking about for so long that required privacy? Surely Buffy wasn’t telling Coach about last night? Was she? Spike paled at the thought, before brushing it away as ludicrous. No way, if Buffy didn’t want the team to know—as evidenced by her avoidance of him this morning—then there’s no way she’d run off and tell Coach.
It had to be something else, and he had no bloody clue what.
Spike paced the hallway, shooting glares at the closed conference room door. As if it was the room’s fault that Buffy was in there and not by his side.
He’d paused in front of the door and considered pressing his ear against it but dismissed it right away. Not only would it be stooping to a level he’d not thought himself capable, but in all likelihood the room would be fairly well sound proofed. It was a hotel, and a lot of business meetings occurred in these rooms, and if privacy couldn’t be guaranteed then people would conduct their business elsewhere. So he resumed pacing. And just when he’d about given up and was going to leave, the handle turned.
Buffy walked out looking over her shoulder, and didn’t notice him standing there in the hallway. “I—I just wanted to let you know in person.”
“Well, I appreciate that Buffy.”
Coach closed the door and Buffy turned to walk down the hall, halting when she saw him, her surprise evident. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“What are you doing here, Spike?” Buffy’s eyes widened slightly. “Were you spying on me?”
“No,” Spike rejected guiltily, because the thought had crossed his mind. “I was waiting for you, wanted to talk.”
Buffy shook her head, turning away. “I’ve got to get ready.”
Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her toward the nearest door open door—which happened to be a larger, thankfully empty, conference room—and closed it behind them.
“Spike, let me go,” Buffy demanded, shaking her arm from his grasp.
“We need to talk,” Spike insisted.
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we bloody well do.”
Buffy glared at him, and Spike glared right back. She could be so god damned infuriating!
“Why do you keep runnin’ off on me?”
“I’m not running.”
“Yes,” Spike said insistently. “You are.”
Buffy shrugged her shoulders, folding her arms across her chest. “Think what you want.”
“Arrgh!” Spike vented his frustration, turning and pacing a few steps before stalking back toward her. “You drive me insane, you know that?!”
Buffy said nothing. Just stood there and looked at him. If she let him say his piece then maybe he’d leave her alone. Not likely, but a girl could hope.
“So talk then.”
Spike ran his hands through his hair, before shoving them deep in his pockets. Now that she was—apparently—willing to listen, words failed him.
“Is that it?” she inquired, raising a brow. She was deliberately antagonising him, she knew that, but she was becoming incredibly frustrated with his lack of actual word.
“Last night,” he began, pulling a hand out of his pocket to run through his hair again as he mulled over the right words to use. “Last night was—”
“Fun,” Buffy interrupted. “It was fun.”
Spike incredulity was instant. “Is that what it was to you? Fun?”
Buffy froze, remembering how the same question had gone through her mind earlier that morning. And then she realised she had her way out. She had to let him believe.
“Yes, it was. That’s all it was.”
Pain followed quickly on the heels of disbelief. He shook his head. No way, he didn’t believe her. The way she responded to him after breakfast convinced him of that. “I don’t believe that’s all it was.”
Buffy chewed on her lip before continuing. “Maybe not for you, but it wa—”
“You’re a crappy liar, Summers,” Spike spat out.
Well, she thought. I’ll just have to be more convincing…
“It’s the truth!” Buffy insisted harshly. “I was lonely and—”
“I was convenient?” Spike finished incredulously.
No… her heart screamed at her, even as her head said, “Yes.”
“No.” He shook his head furiously. “No, I don’t believe you.”
But Buffy could tell from the slightest quiver in his voice that he wasn’t as confident in that as he seemed. “I don’t know what else to say to you.”
“How about the bleedin’ truth for once!” Spike shouted. “Why do you keeping quittin’ on us?”
“How can we quit something we never even really tried?” Buffy asked sadly.
Spike wanted to argue but there was a ring of truth in her words. He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “Just tell me what’s goin’ on and we can work through it, together.”
Oh, how she wished it were that simple. Going for the jugular she played on his insecurities. Conjuring up her best bitchy impression—modelled on Cordelia Chase no less—she laughed. It was impersonal and sarcastic and sounded foreign to her ears. But had its desired effect, Spike flinched.
“Work through it?” she repeated, putting on the best acting performance of her life. “Are you kidding me?” She laughed again and the horrible sound made her cringe inside. “In what reality would that happen?”
“Buffy…” Spike said painfully, but she steamrolled right over him, throwing his own words back in his face.
“You were convenient.”
“No.”
“Believe it,” she demanded.
And that’s when the first crack in her facade appeared. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe the Buffy he knew would be so downright cruel. Spike’s expression hardened when he realised that he truly didn’t believe. The Buffy he knew, the girl he loved, she didn’t have a cruel bone in her body. And that’s when he realised what she was doing. How she was trying to push him away, like before.
“Is this about your father?”
Buffy’s reaction was all the confirmation he needed, she reeled back as if he’d slapped her. “My father has nothing to do with—”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he pleaded. When the colour washed out of her cheeks, and she swayed on her feet, Spike was worried she was going to go down. Her reaction was all the confirmation he needed. Her father definitely had a hand in the distance between them.
But then she took a deep breath, as if finding strength, and suddenly she looked ready to fight. He could practically read the denial on her lips before the words were even spoken, and part of him considered backing off and giving her space. Getting it her face like this could cause her to run, but it was a risk he had to take. There was no going back, especially if he could convince her that they could work through the issues with her father, convince her that he could help, if she would just let him.
“Tell you what, exactly?” she spat out.
“About how he was threatening you.”
“You already knew!” Buffy exclaimed. “Nothing has changed.”
“Yes, it has,” Spike insisted. “It must have to make you run like you did. What else is he threatening you with?”
“Nothing!”
“Then why are you runnin’ away?” he said, repeating his earlier words, convinced more than ever that was exactly what she was doing.
“I’m not running!”
“You were gone pretty fast this mornin’,” Spike argued, the hurt he felt over her little disappearing act distracting him from his point.
Buffy closed her eyes, and Spike took that as a sign her resolve was weakening.
“If you had somewhere to be—”
“I should have what?” Buffy interrupted. “Told you? I didn’t realise I needed your permission.”
“That’s not what I’m tryin’ to say!”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
“If you let me finish a bleedin’ sentence—”
“Why? So you can throw accusations around again?” Buffy spat.
“No, let me explai—”
“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to stick around after that?”
Whatever Spike had been about to rebut died on his lips, and Buffy stunned even herself with the harshness of her words. Did I really just say that?
An apology flew to her lips but she bit it back. Better that she let him believe and this whole thing was dropped. She’d rather he walked away hating her than the alternative… her having to leave him and breaking both of their hearts in the process.
Spike was at a loss as to what to say. Never would he have thought she’d say something like that. Her choice of words more than stung, he practically felt his manhood shrivel in response to her derision.
She was really committed to whatever path she was on, Spike had to pay her that.
He pasted a smug smile on his face, and it took a great deal of determination to force it to remain. “I don’t remember any complaints last night.”
He took a step closer, and when she didn’t flinch—out of stubbornness or whatever, he took another. Lifting his left hand he ran his fingertips in a feather-light trail across her collarbone. She shivered against his touch and the smug smile became more genuine. He’d fight dirty if he had to, use her attraction to him to force her to admit her feelings and confess what had her rabbiting.
“Matter of fact if I recall correctly—and I know I do,” he added cockily, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I remember a fair amount of demandin’ on your part.”
“Don’t stop kissing me,” he remembered out loud, his voice a breathy mimicry of hers. “Harder!”
“Stop it!” Buffy protested somewhat weakly. She batted his hand from her, only to have its partner return, his fingers caressing her hip.
Not a chance…
“You were so warm…” he continued, taking a step closer. His voice shifted from smugness to seduction like the flick of a switch. “So wet…”
Buffy mirrored his movement forward with one back but Spike kept advancing on her. Before too long her back brushed the wall and he had her cornered. When he pressed the length of his body against hers she went limp, the fight inside of her fading. The feel of his muscled form pressed so intimately against her turned her knees to jelly, and a surge of desire swept over her.
“You don’t regret what we did,” Spike determined. His voice became husky, clearly showing that he was just as effected as she was. “No more than I do. Last night was amazing.”
“No,” Buffy whimpered uselessly. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be happening, she was supposed to be standing her ground damn it! She had to get out of here before she caved completely.
So she lied. “It was just sex.”
Spike’s gaze hardened. “With us it will never be just sex.”
And before Buffy could argue his lips swooped to claim hers. They attacked each other with their mouths, pouring every ounce of frustration, of desire into it. In a matter of seconds the kiss became more heated, more passionate, like a match thrown into a barrel of kerosene. Spike grabbed Buffy’s ass, pulling her close and rubbing her against him, and Buffy responded by fisting her hands in his shirt and dragging him toward her.
Then the door opened.
The sound was like a gunshot, and Buffy scrambled from Spike’s arms, pushing him forcefully away from her.
“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be in here?”
“Sorry,” Buffy blurted out. “Sorry, we’re leaving.”
And then she darted out the door, Spike hot on her heels.
~*~*~
He caught up to her at the elevator, just missing the door as it closed behind her.
This wasn’t over, but now was not the time. He had a race to get to. And that’s exactly where she’d be. Pressing the button for an elevator Spike rode up to his room to collect his things, more determined than ever.
She couldn’t hide from him forever.