Chapter 12
Buffy was a wreck, not only did she not know where Spike went but he left her feeling as though she’d committed murder for telling him about Angel. He was the one that asked!
After the first hour Spike was gone, she worried, but told herself he was a big boy now and he’d be back soon, then when the second hour approached, she started to pace, and then when the third hour approached, she went looking for him. It was four in the afternoon, where the hell could he be? They had a turkey cooling in the fridge now, untouched. What was Thanksgiving without turkey?
“And what’s Thanksgiving without family issues,” she muttered as she tried to maneuver his boat of a car up and down the streets of Sunnydale. Winding around the confusing cemetery roads, narrow as they were, she passed by Joyce’s grave, she could see it from the car, and kept going, feeling a stab in her heart. She turned away but not before she shed a few tears.
After searching for an hour on virtually empty streets, Buffy went home, perched herself on the stairs facing the door, and waited.
********
Spike stumbled through the door at eight. Placing her book down, she looked up at him, stone faced. He stopped, and stared at her and in the next instant she was in his arms and they were both crying and holding on to each other.
“Don’t leave me again,” she demanded, “Don’t do that again!”
“I won’t, pet, I won’t.”
“I was scared, I was looking for you!”
“I’m sorry, Buffy, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
She nearly pulled his hair to make him look at her, his head being buried in her neck. She knew he’d been drinking; she could smell it on him and could see the glassiness in his eyes.
“Don’t leave me again, Spike, please,” she begged again. “I need you.”
“I need you too, I do. I need you too.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she whimpered, “I am.”
“Ssshhhh…” he whispered and kissed her, quickly.
It was a kiss of comfort, not of lust, but it jumpstarted her heart just the same and that left Buffy reeling. She jumped as if shocked and stared up at him, wild-eyed.
“Let’s get some food, yeah?” he said, already pulling her to the kitchen.
It meant nothing to him, nothing. Not in his inebriated state. It wasn’t even a real kiss. It wasn’t. That was Buffy’s mantra for the entire night.
*********
November 22, 2005
I did a bad thing. I got a blowjob at the bar. In the alley next to the bar to be exact. I hate it when people use the excuse ‘But I was drunk!’ But I was. I really was. So drunk I was surprised I got it up, but she…
She was on her knees in front of me, sucking me off, moaning in her throat, enjoying it, it seemed, as much as I was. God, it felt so good. Joyce never…
My mind was a haze, I couldn’t even see and I didn’t even try, I just let my head fall back against the brick of the building and let myself get lost in the sensation.
I sobered up right quick after I came. I heard a voice, and that voice had said Buffy’s name. It said her name lovingly, desperately and it made me snap my eyes open to find the source of that voice that was calling my Buffy’s name.
When I looked down at the girl before me, wiping her mouth and glaring at me, I realized: I’d said Buffy’s name.
Journal, I’m not ready…but I’m getting so close it frightens me.
********
The day after the fiasco that was Thanksgiving, Buffy and Spike decided to give it another go. Buffy called it a “Do Over”. With a do-over in mind, Spike taught Buffy to prepare mashed potatoes, squash and sweet potatoes—with marshmallows and brown sugar on top, just the way Joyce always made them.
With a warmed Turkey and a feast before them, and Queen’s “I’m Going Slightly Mad” on repeat per Buffy from the living room, they ate until they were full, Buffy complaining that she needed to unbutton her pants. Spike laughed, but changed into his sweat pants for comfort, and the pair sat back and watched an early preview of “A Christmas Story”.
Buffy was the first to nod off during the movie and her head fell onto Spike’s shoulder when she did. Spike smiled tenderly down at her whilst trying to fend off the guilt he felt at the joy he took in Buffy resting on him.
It wasn’t wrong, nothing was wrong with them. They were both broken hearted and feeling sad. It was normal. But was it normal to feel so desperate for her company that he couldn’t stand to let her out of his sight for a moment?
All he’d wanted was to find solace in her – and not in a sexual way either. She didn’t think he was a monster. Course, she also didn’t know he’d gotten a blowjob from a nameless and at that point, faceless blond; spewing himself in someone else that was not her mother. Then add to that the fact that he’d said her name and not her mother’s. Talk about feeling fucked in the head.
He’d do well to remember that she was off-limits, and she was Joyce’s daughter. His dead ex-wife’s daughter and it was completely and utterly wrong and unnatural.
Unable to stay where he was any longer, Spike carefully got up, lifted Buffy’s legs onto the couch, and covered her with the blanket draped on the armchair she’d been reading in earlier and left her to sleep.
Distance was imperative here.
*********
“Spike?” Buffy began a few days after the “Do Over” Thanksgiving.
Spike looked up from the book he was reading in his favorite armchair that consequently was Buffy’s favorite as well. “Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
He braced himself. The way she asked, the shy way she asked, coupled with the uncertainty and fear in her eyes had his mind reeling with all the possible things she could ask – like why he had been so upset with her for sleeping with Angel.
“Sure,” he said weakly, sitting up straighter. He slid his legs off the ottoman in from of him, and leaned forward.
She sat down on said ottoman and looked up at him intently. “I want to say a few things, get a few things out about my mom, me and even you and …And I was hoping that you’d listen to me. I feel that if I tell you it’d be like telling her. Do you understand?”
He nodded and placed his book aside. “I do.”
“Okay, here goes.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry that I left the way I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t hear you out and try to understand. I’m sorry that it fell on deaf ears when you told me you were not going to get back with my father. I didn’t…” she heaved a trembling sigh and some tears started to fall. “I didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted things back the way they were and when I left, I was so angry for taking up with someone else and for not telling me. I just …I just wished I’d known…” Buffy was full out sobbing now and Spike took her hands in his, squeezing them, fighting off the urge to gather her in his arms just yet. She needed to get this out and he understood that. It’d been a long time coming.
“I should have tried after. I should have allowed you in and told you how my father – how Hank didn’t want me anymore. How I became nothing but a nuisance to him and how I didn’t fit into the new family he had. They hated me and I couldn’t…I couldn’t understand and I was too proud to tell you. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for not giving Spike a chance. I see now that he’s a good man, much better than Hank. I’ve had all this anger inside me for so long and I want to get rid of it, Momma. I really do. I want to heal; Momma and I didn’t think that I could do that without telling you that I love you and that I’m sorry.” She looked up at Spike and instantly he gathered her to him, pulling her into his arms and cradling her on his lap while she cried her release in his neck.
“I’m sorry too,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I just sprung it on you and then expected you to be okay with it. I should have told you straight away and I was in the wrong for that, I was. And I forgive you Buffy. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes!”
“I love you, too,” Spike whispered, shutting off his mind that was intent on coming up with all sorts of meaning and implications to that declaration. It was for healing, not for anything else.