Chapter 12
It took a few seconds for Buffy to snap out of her frozen state. When she did, she forced out a chuckle:
“Boy, you really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you.”
She quickly made her way across the living room and into the kitchenette, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
Opening the top cupboards, she pretended to be busily looking for something while he was left standing by the TV set. His head dropped slightly forward and a smile spread over his lips while he shook his head.
“If I’m wrong, why are you running away?” He replied turning to see her going through the fridge.
At the accusation, Buffy immediately closed the refrigerator door and turned to look at him from across the room.
“I’m not running away!” She denied vehemently.
“Right, you just had a sudden craving to check what’s to eat.” He mocked crossing the living room.
Buffy let out a sigh of relief when he stopped at the counter and didn’t follow her into the kitchen. She watched as he crossed his arms over the white surface and leaned on it. He lasciviously ran his tongue over his teeth before biting into his lower lip and narrowing his eyes at her.
“Arg!” Her face scrunched up for her growingly familiar look of disgust. “Do you think that’s at all appealing?”
A scarred eyebrow rose on his forehead.
“What is?”
“The whole tongue thing.” She wrinkled nose while her index finger dismissively pointed at his mouth. “Cause I gotta tell you? It’s so not.” She widened her eyes for an instance as she walked back to the refrigerator, leaning in to inspect its contents once more.
Buffy let out a sigh when she felt her empty stomach growl as she pushed the milk carton out of the way.
‘I can’t believe it! There’s some juice left. Thank God the milk was hiding it! Juice has sugar in it, doesn’t it?’ She wondered.
“Some women like it.” His voice used haughtiness.
“Right! *Some* women. A *very* select group, and considering Harmony as a specimen… well…” She smiled inwardly at her witty response while picking up the small glass container. She closed the refrigerator door and continued: “…it’s not a very impressive demographic, is-” She stopped in mid-sentence, backtracking as she turned around to find Spike’s face right in front of her.
Somehow, he had managed to make his way unnoticed from the counter and into the kitchenette to stand right behind her.
“My tongue bother you, Summers?” He asked, narrowing his eyes and staring down at her.
“No.” She practically gulped the answer as she backed up, feeling the cold refrigerator door against her back.
She clutched the bottle of juice in her hand as she remained in place, her heart slamming in her chest while the distinct smell of leather and alcohol seemed to wrap itself around her.
It had started as another successful tactic to push her buttons. Somehow, the sight of her confused and aggravated pleased him immensely. But the moment he stepped up behind her and she turned around, something hit him hard. He still managed to blurt out his clever ‘My tongue bother you’ line, his half smirk was still in place but inside him he felt something snap out of place. Or maybe into place, he still wasn’t sure of it yet. All he knew was that he was surrounded by the sweetest scent he could remember. He withheld a gasp when he felt her breath on his neck. It was warm and yet it caused his skin to prickle with goosebumps.
They stood silent, staring at each other for a few seconds until she suddenly moved, walking around him and effectively snapping them out of their daze.
He let his shoulders slouch; exhaled sharply and letting his eyes close for a second as he unconsciously tried to register the last of her scent.
He turned around to find her leaning on the sink, her attentions completely focused on the small glass container in her hands.
“What’s his name?”
“Huh?” She asked without looking up from her task. She wasn’t ready to look him in the eye just yet, so she continued to struggle with the bottle.
‘Stupid thing won’t open.’
“The guy that hurt you.”
She froze at that.
“Who says there’s a guy?” She questioned looking up at him.
“There’s always a guy.” He replied, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the refrigerator.
“Well…” Her eyes returned to the bottle as she tried to turn the cap. “There’s none in this story, ok? Stupid bottle!” She protested bagging the container against the sink.
“Here, gimme that.” He outstretched his hand.
“I can do it.” She insisted, picking up a towel and using it to open the container.
“You really should-“
“I can do it!” She snapped looking up at him threateningly.
“Fine.” He gave up, putting up his hands in a sign of surrender while he watched her struggle with the bottle for another minute. After a while she gave up and handed it to him.
“Here.”
His lips tugged at the side for a smile as he watched her pout angrily.
With little effort he turned the cap and opened the bottle handing it to her.
“Thanks.” She said reluctantly.
“You’re welcome, though I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”
“Why not?” She asked, the tip of the bottle stopping an inch from her lips.
“Read the label.”
Buffy frowned, turning to read the fine print.
“Best before…” She trailed off when she read last Monday’s date. “You knew this was passed the expiration date and you didn’t tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.” He replied innocently.
She growled inwardly, throwing the bottle in the garbage container.
“I guess I’m gonna starve.” She grumbled.
“No, you’re not. Harmony’s bringing us Chinese food.”
“No thanks.” She said, raising both eyebrows and turning to leave.
“I would really like to know when you actually started believing that you’re better than other people.”
“What?” She asked turning around to face him. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone.”
“I beg to differ, your highness, but that little eyebrow-nose-twisting thing you just did? It’s called scorn.” He replied angrily, pushing himself off the refrigerator to stand in front of her again.
“What eyebrow-nose-twisting thing? I didn’t do any…” Her hand came to rest on her nose as she pouted slightly.
“Oh, yes you did.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I-” she cut herself off. “Look, you know what? I really don’t feel like being dragged into another one of you twisted little mind games. I’m tired and I just want to take a shower and go to bed.” She made a move to leave but found her path blocked by the leather-clad Brit.
“Admit it. You think you’re better than other people.”
“I do not!” She denied vehemently.
“Yes, you do.”
“Fine! Think whatever you want. You don’t even know me.” She said, trying to get past him, but once again he stepped in front of her. “I’m really getting-“
“His name.”
“What?”
“What’s his name?”
“What are you talking about?” Man, he really did have a way of jumping from one subject to the other without warning.
“Prince charming who-done-you-wrong.”
She swallowed hard and her gaze turned cold.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh, so there is a guy. What did he do? Cheat? That why you only go out with… what did you call them? ‘Run of the mill, *non-psychotic*, nice guys’? That it?” He was definitely pushing her pushing her buttons now. He could practically feel the urge she had to punch him.
“What Angel and I had? You could even *begin* to grasp.” She spat.
“So it’s Angel. What kind of a ponce name is that?”
“Better than Spike.” She replied angrily.
“Not likely.” He mumbled.
“Very likely for someone with an ounce of taste.” She retorted.
He chose to ignore her statement and asked:
“So, what did Angel do to you?”
“Hey, boink-boy!” She snapped. “If you don’t want to be singing soprano for the rest of your life, I’d suggest you move out of my way. Now.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He smirked at her and that seemed to be the last straw.
Without warning her knee came up and slammed hard against his crotch, causing him to let out a painful shriek as he doubled over in pain. With her path clear, as he lay on the floor mumbling a series of colourful curses, she walked out of the kitchenette, across the living room and into her bedroom.
With an angry growl she threw herself on the bed.
‘God, the nerve of some people!’ She thought as her mind replayed the events that had just occurred.
She waited until the anger subsided and she was finally able to breathe properly before she stood up again and walked around the room. Gradually, remorse started mixing in with the rage, soothing it and eventually making it disappear.
“Oh, God. What if I broke it?” She finally thought as occasional muffled moans continued to carry through the door.
She did another couple of full circles before she decided to go back into the living room and ascertain the damage she had caused. Silently, she pushed the door open and walked along the corridor. She found him lying sprawled on the couch, one arms flung over his face while the other held a bag of ice pressed against his crotch.
She stood there, quietly hearing him moan out a couple of curses.
“A-Are you ok?” She managed to say anxiously.
The arm that covered his face moved out of the way and he glanced up at her to reveal blood-shot eyes.
“Well, I don’t think I’m gonna sing soprano for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, God I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I-I’m so sorry.” She stuttered nervously, quickly coming to kneel next to the couch. “I-I… We should get you to a hospital or something. Check if… You know. If… um…” Her head tilted towards his crotch. “If everything’s working… down there.” She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“Care to take it for a test drive?” He suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Arg! God, you can’t even quit the sexual innuendoes when you’re on the verge of castration, can you?” She asked disgusted.
“It’s beyond my control.” He replied.
“Disgusting…” She mumbled standing up and turning to leave.
“Ouch!” He cried out and in a flash she was by his side.
“Are you ok?”
“Now that you mention it… I think it could use a massage.” He half growled.
“Pig!”
“It’s chow time!” Harmony’s cheerful voice came from the front door as she pushed it open and entered the apartment with two large plastic bags in each hand. “Spike? Oh, my God! What happened?”
She rushed to kneel down on the floor in front of the couch while Buffy silently moved away.
“Nothing. Just had an accident.” Spike replied; his eyes fixed on Buffy.
“What do you mean? How?”
“I… um walked into one of the stools.” Was the first excuse he could think of. Thankfully, the woman he was trying to convince wasn’t too bright.
“Oh, you poor little thing.” She mumbled child-like as she snuggled against his chest, while he looked over her blonde hair to find Buffy mouthing:
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He mouthed back, just before she disappeared into the corridor and into her bedroom.
~+~
Buffy lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Today had probably been one of the strangest days in her life. She let out a sigh and reached for the telephone, dialling the familiar number.
“Hello? Dawn? It’s Buffy. Hey, how are you?”
“Hey, Buffy.”
“I missed you last weekend. You were and Janice’s. Maybe you should stop sleeping over there all the time. You know you can’t leave mom alone. Not now.”
“Mom’s fine. You heard what the doctor said.” Dawn replied.
“You shouldn’t leave her alone like that anyway.”
“But she’s not even at home most of the time.”
“What do you mean?” Buffy frowned.
“Well… she’s… out… you know.” Dawn stuttered a bit.
“No, I don’t know. What do you mean?”
There was a silence on the other side of the line.
“Dawn. Where’s mom?”
“Um…” Dawn hesitated before settling for: “She’s out.”
“Out? What do you mean out? Oh, God!” Buffy fingers froze around the telephone cord. “Dawn, did something happen to mom? Dawn is she-“
“Relax, will you? Mom’s fine. She’s… at work.”
“What do you mean at work? It’s Saturday night. What’s mom doing at the gallery at this hour?”
“She just had some things to take care of.”
“Dawn? I’m your sister; I know when you’re lying.”
“Mom’s gonna kill me when she finds out I told you but… She’s been working a few extra hours a week. “
“Why?” Buffy frowned as she resumed twirling the telephone cord.
There was a long pause.
“Dawn!”
“Fine! Mom’s working to get some extra money to pay for the hospital bills. Apparently, the insurance she had didn’t cover all the medical stuff or something so we are going to have to pay for them. There, I said it.” Dawn let out a long sigh. She was really in trouble now. “Buffy, are you there?”
The silence dragged on for a few seconds before Buffy uttered:
“I’m coming over.”
“What?! It’s ten o’clock at night. Buffy!”
There was no answer but the busy signal from the other side of the line.
“Great! Mom’s gonna kill me.” Dawn muttered as she hung up the phone.
Within three minutes Buffy was out of her bedroom and crossing the living room.
“Where are you going?” Harmony’s voice caused her to stop in mid-stride.
“Home.” Buffy replied.
“At this hour?” The ex-cheerleader wondered from her place on the couch next to Spike as she forked a large amount of sweet and sour pork into her mouth.
“Yes.” Buffy replied as she resumed walking.
“You can’t go on the bus alone at this hour.” Spike finally spoke up.
“I’ll be fine.” Buffy said as she searched for her keys on the kitchen counter.
“I’ll drive you.” Spike announced standing up and setting his carton box on the coffee table before reaching for his duster and putting it on.
“No. I can take the bus. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll drive you. I have to go anyway.”
Buffy flushed a bit when she noticed him limping a bit as he made his way towards her.
“You’re going. I thought you were gonna stay over, so we could…” Harmony trailed off with a large lascivious grin.
“Sorry, luv. I think the shop’s closed; at least for tonight.” He replied before turning to Buffy. “Let’s go.”
She was still glued to the floor, holding the door open, stunned by his readiness to give her a ride.
“Are you sure?” She asked as she watched him cross the front door.
“I’m sure. Bye, Harm.”
Closing her hanging mouth, Buffy exited the apartment and followed him into the elevator.
They walked in awkward silence to the car.
The ride home seemed longer than usual as the only sounds filling the old car were the hard guitar cords coming from the radio and Buffy’s occasional directions.
“Turn right here.” Buffy instructed.
They drove for a couple more minutes until something forced Spike to stop. Two cars blocked their passage and from Buffy’s and Spike’s point of view it was clear that the car coming from one of the driveways had slammed into the one that was driving by. The scenario was completed by two men, standing in the middle of the street, shouting at one another.
Awkwardly, Buffy glanced at Spike. After a few seconds he moved to shift gear into reverse.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Getting to home. There’s a way around isn’t it?”
“No.” Buffy shook her head, then quickly corrected. “I mean, there is, but, it’s not worth it. My house is just a few blocks away. I can walk. No problem.”
“And I can drive you.” Spike insisted.
“There is no need. You’ll have to go all the way around and it’ll take forever. I’m tired and I just want to get home, ok?” She reasoned.
It seemed as if he was about to protest, but in the last second he opted not to, silently nodding instead.
“Well… thanks.” She spoke awkwardly.
“You’re welcome.”
Her hand lingered on the door.
“I better…” She tilted her head toward the window.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
She had just opened the door and was about to exit when she let herself drop back into the car seat.
“I’m really sorry about earlier.”
“It’s ok, luv. Not the first and probably not the last time.”
“You’re limping. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital to check.”
“I’ll be fine.” He assured her.
“Ok, if you say so.” She said stepping out of the car. “Thanks again for the ride.”
He simply nodded.
“Bye.”
“Night, Summers.”
She gulped and turned around, walking up onto the sidewalk. She walked up the corner of the street and just before she turned it, she looked back. He was still parked in the middle of the street looking at her. She gulped a bit at that and waved at him just before turning the corner. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard the car finally start and drive away.