Chapter 45
They’d shifted in the night and when Buffy awoke, she found Spike’s head on her breasts, using them as pillows and her arms wrapped around him. So very maternal. So very –
Like mom, yes, she conceded, But me now. I’ve never considered myself as the maternal type, but I guess for the right person, I do have it in me. I won’t coddle him like Mom though, not in the same way. I want to help him get past whatever is ailing him, but I don’t want to make it so it doesn’t exist. That’s been done already.
Shifting slightly, trying not to disturb him, she ended up disturbing him anyway when she felt his grip tighten on her.
“Buffy?” he sounded small, like a little boy.
“Yes?”
“Did last night really happen or did I dream it?”
“What do you think you dreamt?”
He looked up at her, his expression sad and hopeful, “The whole thing. Well, except for you coming to see me.”
Smiling gently at him, she pushed some curls from his forehead and bent her head to kiss his forehead softly. “I’m afraid it happened.”
He rolled off her then, sprawling on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “You’re going to make me see somebody, aren’t you? You think something’s wrong with me like Fred does, don’t you?”
“Honey, I don’t think anything’s wrong with you,” she told him and moved so that she lay on her side, propping her elbow up and resting her head in the palm of her hand. “I think you’re just overwhelmed and might need someone to talk to about it. How do you feel this morning? Calmer?”
He shook his head slowly. “Not really. I feel like…I feel like everyday I’m a live wire about to go off. I have all this…anxiety. I don’t know how to let it go.”
“Is there any time where you don’t feel anxious?”
He turned his head and gazed at her, his eyes full of wonder and adoration. “Used to be the only thing that could calm me was you.”
That made her want to cry and she forced the tears back. “Not anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not even when you’re with me. I feel everyday that I’m one step closer to losing you. That you’re slipping through my fingers and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“You’re not going to lose me. You haven’t and you won’t.” Sitting up and spinning so she was facing him and sitting cross-legged, she asked, “You ever see Friends?”
“The television show?”
She nodded.
“Some, not a lot,” he answered, looking at her as if she were nuts. “Why?”
“Well, there was this episode of Friends where Ross was lamenting on never having Rachel. You do know the story of Ross and Rachel at least?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, so Ross was going on and on about how he felt he was never going to be with Rachel because at that particular point in time Rachel hated him–”
“Buffy, this is supposed to somehow relate to us? Cause so far you’re bumming me out.”
Giggling, she swatted him on the leg. “Just listen.”
“All right, listening. Continue.”
“Okay, so while he’s saying all this Phoebe tells him that it’s all going to work out because Rachel is his lobster.”
Spike stared at her blankly. “Are you telling me we’re lobsters now? You’re my lobster? I’m your lobster, what?”
Buffy giggled again, “You’re my lobster and I’m your lobster. She told Ross that lobsters mate for life and when they’re in the tanks together they find their other half and join claws, walking around the lobster tank together.”
“Until someone comes along with a craving for lobster and separates the pair of them.”
“Wow, thanks Debbie Downer for completely spoiling my analogy here.”
Spike smiled slowly, “Sorry.”
“What I’m trying to say you big pain in the ass, is that you’re my mate. For lack of a better word. You’re it. If you want, I could make you those cool letters like in those E-bay commercials that just says “It”, so you know you’re it.”
He burst out laughing then and reached for her. Taking the hint, Buffy lay back down and snuggled into his side. “Does any of that sound like something you could remember? See, if I got you the letters then you could have proof of it even when I’m not right here in the flesh.” Pressing a kiss to his chest, she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere. You have me for forever, remember? I thought about it you know, that forever thing and I have to say, I’m diggin’ it. I know I was leery at first, but if there’s anyone I want to spend forever with, it’s you. I don’t like many people because, well, most people suck, but I like you, a lot. A real lot. And I want to stay with you. You make this world bearable to me.”
“Buffy, stop,” Spike whispered. “I don’t want to start crying like a sodding Nancy boy.”
“You’re not a Nancy boy for crying, you’re human. It helps. It might not seem like it at first, but it does. Trust me. You’re talking to someone that sobbed when she couldn’t tie her shoelaces in Boston.”
“Really?”
“Yup. And I hate to cry, too. For the longest time I thought I was never going to stop and that it wasn’t helping anything really, it was just making it worse, but you know, the way I see it now, every tear you shed is a release. You’re letting go of whatever’s blocked inside you and though it seems like it’s not helping, it’s a step closer to getting it out. You know what a cool word is?”
“What?”
“Catharsis. And the definition is even cooler: Purging of emotion. Say it with me, it just rolls off your tongue.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Come on, say it with me.”
“Catharsis,” they said at the same time and then broke into giggles.
“Pet,” he said after they’d calmed, “Can I think about the therapist idea for a bit? Let me get back to you on that?”
“Sure,” and she nodded resolutely thinking, If you have one more bad episode there will be no more ‘thinking’.
********
Buffy had been ready and willing to call Willow and tell her she was going to spend the day with Spike, but surprisingly, he was the one that was firm about going in. “I gave Richard the day off and we have an opening in two weeks. Besides, I don’t want to sit around and think all day, Buffy. I need to keep busy.”
“All right, sounds fair enough. You want to get a coffee and a muffin and walk me to work?”
He readily agreed and after they each had quick showers, and thankfully Buffy had some clothes still at the house, they set out on their way.
Spike parked his car in the parking garage down the street from both the gallery and flower shop and the pair headed for the café hand in hand.
They were coming up to the café when the door swung open and Angel walked out. Buffy grimaced and Spike tensed. She was hoping he would continue on as though he hadn’t seen them, but no such luck. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at them, a smirk forming.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled by way of greeting and zoned in on their joined hands. “What do we have here?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Just keep going Angel. I have my heart set on a chocolate chip muffin and you’re ruining my appetite.”
“Kind of like seeing you two together has ruined mine, you mean?” Angel retorted. “You know, you two really are disgusting.”
“Shut up, Angel,” Buffy snapped.
“Oh,” Angel mock whimpered and placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me. So, the mother fucker is now fucking you? Interesting.” Angel sneered at Spike. “She’s like a wildcat isn’t she? Tell me, she anything like your wife— you know, her Mom?”
Buffy’s jaw dropped and in the time it took for her jaw to drop was ample enough time for Spike to let go of her hand and lunge at Angel, punching him square in the jaw and sending him to the ground.
“Spike!” Buffy yelled and she felt as though she were saying it in slow motion while she watched Spike pummel Angel into the ground. A crowd was forming around them and all Buffy could think to do was nearly jump on Spike’s back.
“Spike, please, stop, please!” she begged him. Angel was no longer shouting at him and she was thinking his silence was bad; very, very bad. “Spike, please!” and she managed to get a good enough grip on him and pull him back somewhat off Angel. His body tensed under her grip and he flew off Angel, sending her to the ground on her bottom in the process.
She looked at Angel who was moaning slightly, his face bloody and…and broken. He looked broken. Shit. He’s going to sue Spike isn’t he?Buffy thought and slowly looked up at Spike who stood there, his shirt bloody as well as his fists. Buffy gulped and stood on shaky legs. “Spike?” she whispered.
“Dude, are you all right?” Someone was asking Angel, but Buffy’s focus was on Spike who was shaking like a leaf.
“Spike,” she said again, “Come on, baby, let’s go okay? Let’s go.” Tugging on his arm, she pulled him away from the crowd and to the gallery where she took the keys from his pocket and dragged him inside. Leading him by the hand to the bathroom, she pushed him to sit on the toilet and he did so, still shell-shocked. “Spike,” she started calmly. “I’m not giving you the chance to think about it anymore, okay? You need help, and you’re going to get it.”
He looked up at her with wide eyes filled with tears and nodded.