Chapter Twenty-Four
“Hey, Willow. How’s the party planning coming?” Buffy asked, cradling the phone against her shoulder so she could pull the package of chicken out of the freezer.
“Good. Already decided on the food, ordered the cake, and have the liquor list.” Willow checked off each as she talked, proud of herself. The party was a week away, and she had scrambled to get everything ready. Mark had called her that morning and told her that the recording was going well, so he would probably be home the day before the festivities.
“That’s great.”
“What’s wrong?” Buffy chuckled at the question, thinking that Willow had better radar for trouble than any military branch.
“Riley and I broke up,” she said quickly, frowning at the lack of pain that statement caused. She’d spent the last year of her life with him, shouldn’t she feel something other than guilt?
“Oh,” was all the redhead could come up with in response to this unexpected news. “When?”
“Two days ago,” she mumbled, wincing.
“And I’m just hearing about this NOW?” Willow gasped, the last word coming out loud enough that Buffy had to pull the phone away from her ear. “WHY?”
“I’m sorry, honey. You’ve just been so busy planning the party, and all, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“What. Ever.” Came the reply. “I am NEVER too busy to listen when something life altering happens.” Buffy felt another stab of guilt hit over hurting her friend.
“Well, just consider it payback for you not telling me about losing your virginity until almost three weeks later,” she teased, hoping to smooth things over. Silence greeted her for a second or two, making her wonder if Willow had hung up. *She couldn’t be THAT mad. Could she?*
“Fine,” Willow finally said, begrudgingly. “So, what happened?” Buffy placed the chicken in the sink to defrost for dinner while she explained. “Wow. That’s rough,” Willow said when she finished. Sympathy for Riley suffused her voice, and she was sad to see it end that way. Not that she didn’t think that it should have ended, she just felt bad that he got hurt. “How are you doing?”
A huge sigh exploded form Buffy at the question. She moved away from the sink to slide onto one of the stools, and began to rub her tired eyes. Sleep had not been her friend recently.
“Better than I should be.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Come on, Will. I was with him for a year. Shouldn’t I feel. . .I dunno. Pain? How can you share your bed with someone that long, and NOT feel anything?” she implored, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Besides guilt, that is. I seem to have an abundance of that.”
“Honey, don’t beat yourself up. You weren’t in love with him.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?” Buffy asked with a harsh laugh.
“No. It’s just the truth. You can’t undo what’s done, so there really is no use dwelling on it. He’ll be okay. Some other woman will see him for the great guy he is, and snatch him up. You’ll see.”
“You think?” Buffy certainly hoped so.
“Yeah, I think. So. What are YOU going to do?” The blonde snorted at the predictability of the question, and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know, Will. It’s not that easy.”
“Why not?”
“Willow! Don’t rush me. It’s only been a couple of days.”
“It’s been longer than that, and you know it,” Willow countered. She threw the pen and paper she had been doodling on away, and slouched back into the cushions of the couch. Buffy rolled her eyes at her friend’s persistence.
“You just don’t quit, do you?”
“Nope. Why should I?”
“Because it’s annoying. These types of decisions can’t be made lightly.”
“For god’s sake Buffy. Quit thinking everything to death, and just do what’s in your heart.” Two golden brows shot up at that.
“This coming from you? The human computer?” A disgusted snort was her answer.
“Some things don’t require thought.”
“Look, Will. It was never a question of loving him,” she started to explain, getting up when she heard a knock on the door.
“I know that. We had this talk a couple of days ago. Take what you want for once, Buffy. You’ve been living for everyone else since he walked out that door. Live for yourself.”
“Speak of the damn devil, and he shows up on your doorstep,” Buffy mumbled, looking out the window to see who was at the door.
“What?” Willow’s confused voice rang in her ear.
“Spike’s here.” Buffy pulled open the door and looked at him. He was leaning against the railing, clad in blue jeans, his doc Martens, and a stonewashed blue button down that was tucked in. A smile curled his lips, and sunglasses shielded his eyes.
“He is? Let me talk to him,” Willow demanded.
“Why?” Buffy asked suspiciously. She could almost hear her friend roll her eyes.
“The party? I haven’t talked to him about it yet.”
“Fine.” Buffy held out the cordless to him. She saw the scarred brow pop up over the top of his sunglasses. “Willow. She wants to talk to you.” He smiled as he walked over to her and took the phone.
“Hello, Red.”
“Hi Spike. What are you doing Friday?” she asked.
“Nothing as of yet. Why?” Spike followed Buffy into the house, closing the door.
“Mark’s birthday.”
“I’ll be there. Where’s Tonto been hiding himself anyway? Haven’t heard from him since I got back. You either,” he admonished lightly. Willow blushed.
“Well, I thought you would want to be alone. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’re never a bother, luv,” he told her.
“Aw. Thanks. Mark’s in LA. Recording snafu.”
“Ah. Alright, well, I’ll see you Friday, then. Do you want to talk to Buffy again?”
“No. just tell her to call me in the morning. Oh, and Spike..”
“Yeah?”
“She’s still a little gunshy. Be persistent.” Spike chuckled, his eyes burning into Buffy through the dark tint of his glasses.
“Oh, I think I can handle that.”
“I know you can.” Willow’s laughter bubbled through the phone.
“Bye, Red.”
“Bye Spike.”
“What’s so funny?” Buffy demanded as soon as he hung up.
“Nothing,” Spike said innocently, pulling off the glasses and hooking them in the pocket of his shirt.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I have no idea.” Buffy rolled her eyes and walked into the living room, sinking down into the couch with a sigh.
“So, what brings you here?” Spike moved into the room, and sat down next to her, draping his arm behind her head.
“Got something to show you. Where’s Nibblet?”
“Upstairs pouting.” She snickered a little as she said it. She studied the pink nail polish that adorned her toes, trying not to get too comfortable next to him. Her body was practically screaming at her to close the distance between them.
“Why’s she pouting?” She felt his fingers start to play with the ends of her loose ponytail, and had to suppress a shudder.
“I won’t let her go out with Connor.”
“Connor.” The protective lilt to his voice made her smile.
“Yeah, her best friend turned boyfriend.” To say that Spike was confused was an understatement. If Dawn had a boyfriend, why the hell was she over at his father’s the other night, doing her best hoover impression? “They just sorta got together. Like two days ago.”
“Oh. I assume you’ve met this boy?” A heavy eye roll was his answer.
“Of course. You have too, I think. He was at the funeral.”
“I didn’t see anybody but Dad and you that day, pet.” She nearly jumped out of her skin when his warm fingers brushed over her bare shoulder. Memories of that day flooded her brain, causing her body to heat up. She struggled to stay on subject.
“Uhm, yeah. The funny thing is, he’s Angel’s younger brother.” The look of shocked horror that crossed his face had her giggling.
“You’re letting her go out with Cro Magnum man’s younger brother? Have you gone round the bend?”
“Stop it, he’s nothing like Angel.”
“Yeah, right. Find that hard to believe.” Spike looked ready to go find the boy, and have a little ‘talk’ with him.
“Well, he isn’t. Do you think it was easy growing up in the over inflated shadow of Angel? That and his mother is a supreme bitch, which has not made growing up easy on the kid.”
“If you say so.”
“Well, I do say so.”
“Well, then, why won’t you let her go out with Mr. Terrific?” His wandering fingers were now lazily rubbing the curve of her shoulder, making it very hard for Buffy to think.
“Uhm, she’s grounded. For the little stunt she pulled with you, and the next day at school.”
“What’d she do at school?” Buffy managed to get the story out, even though his fingers were now tracing her jawline. Spike had a hard time suppressing the chuckle that was trying to burst from his lips. He managed to swallow it when she glared up at him. “Sorry, luv. So, my little amazon. You stood up to the whelp’s mother, eh? And Snyder. Impressive.”
“Yeah, I said the almighty F-word. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the shade of red Snyder’s face turned before.” He laughed out loud at that, the image in his head hysterical. He could see Snyder, with his ferengi face a brilliant shade of maroon, staring fish faced at Buffy. Served the Nazi right. Buffy joined him in his mirth, finally giving up on staying serious. “Didn’t you say you had something to show me?” she reminded him.
“Yeah. Go get Nibblet, and get your shoes.”
“Uhm, Spike. I don’t think Dawn is quite ready to face you. She did a pretty thorough job of humiliating herself the other night.” Spike rolled his eyes and snorted.
“Go tell her if she isn’t downstairs in two minutes, ready to walk out the door, I’m coming up after her to finish off the embarrassment.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” He wagged his eyebrows, his blue, blue eyes searching her face. For some reason, Buffy thought that simple sentence said a whole hell of a lot more than what he’d used it for. A blush started to creep up her neck, flushing her skin to a pretty, pink hue.
“I’ll, uhm. I’ll be right back.” Buffy hastily pushed herself off the couch, seeking distance. Another stroke or two of those digits on her skin, and it could get very embarrassing in here, indeed.
Spike kicked his booted feet up on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving her tiny form until she disappeared up the stairs. He was just getting ready to head up himself after he watched five minutes tick by on the clock, when he heard something resembling the sound of a herd of elephants stampeding coming down the stairs. They appeared in the doorway, hair freshly combed, and ready to leave. Buffy had slipped a sweater on over the black camisole she was wearing.
“Here we are, what’s the rush?” Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her face flame even as she tried to put on a nonchalant front. Spike had decided to take it easy on her, and not mention the incident.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” he asked, pushing himself off the couch. “Ready?”
“Yeah. You kinda did the whole threaten with humiliation thing,” Buffy said, walking out the door he held open. Dawn followed her, with Spike in the rear. The older Summers’ locked the door before they headed down the steps. They stopped dead when they realized that Spike had pulled a set of car keys out of his pocket, and was walking with purpose towards the dark blue Mustang at the end of the walk.
“Uh, Spike?” Dawn started, her eyes darting to Buffy’s. He turned and looked at them, his scarred brow raised in question. Dawn couldn’t seem to form the question, so she just waved with her hand, indicating the car. Buffy just stared at him with wide eyes. He looked between the two, the keys dancing in his hand as he jostled them.
“I can still drive Dawn. Only thing the law requires is those little extra mirrors.” He pointed to side mirrors, and indeed, in the corner was a tiny circular mirror.
“What do those do?” Buffy asked, starting to walk again.
“They make it so I can see the whole bloody road without turning my head all way round like Linda Blair in the Exorcist.” He was starting to get impatient now, his voice becoming clipped at their hesitation. “Xander put them on.” The car beeped when he pressed a button on the key pad, indicating the unlocking of the doors.
“How did you get your car out here?” Buffy asked as he pulled open the passenger door, trying to ease the tension in his face.
“A chum of mine was coming out this way a couple of weeks ago. Had him drive it out here, leave the keys with Xander,” he explained. Dawn slid into the back seat, sighing at the butter soft, white leather seats. Buffy got in next, pushing back her apprehension, knowing that Spike wouldn’t put them in danger. She hoped.
She leaned back in the seat, forcing herself to relax. When he slid into the driver’s seat, she turned and smiled at him.
“So, where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he told her cryptically, turning the key in the ignition. The powerful engine roared to life, and he put the car in gear. He carefully checked the mirrors, before smoothly pulling away from the curb. It didn’t take Buffy long to fully relax. He drove as if he had no handicap at all, and she could tell he was happy to be behind the wheel of anything at this point. No unease marred his features as he navigated the streets. He was relaxed and talkative, teasing Dawn about Connor, embarrassing her more than she had thought possible. Buffy just sat and listened, comfortable with the good natured bickering they were doing. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that this was five years ago.
She stared out the window, watching as the town passed by. She noticed that he was heading towards the richer side of town, a couple of blocks from where Cordy’s parents lived. She wondered again just where he was taking them.
She got her answer a few minutes later, when Spike came to a stop in front of a condominium complex. She looked over at him with question in her eyes, but he just flashed her a grin and got out of the car.
“What are we doing here?” Dawn leaned forward to ask. Spike made his way around the nose of the car to open the door for them.
“I don’t know.” Buffy answered, taking his hand so he could help her from the low riding vehicle. He did the same with Dawn, then grinned at them again.
“Come on,” he said, turning and walking towards the two story wood sided structure. The girls shrugged and started after him, hurrying to catch up. He was practically dancing on the balls of his feet when they caught up to him. He held open the door for them, and instructed them to head to the right. At the end of the short hallway, they stopped in front of a door, waiting for him to open it. “Well, what do you think?” he asked when the door swung open, and he ushered them inside.
Buffy and Dawn gasped at the open space they encountered. The condo was huge, easily the same size as their house. Their footsteps echoed in the empty space as they walked across the parqueted floor.
“Is this yours?” Buffy asked, standing in the middle of the room and turning in a circle.
“Yeah. Bought it this morning. Come on, I’ll give you the nickel tour.” The two girls followed him to the kitchen, both their jaws dropping at the size of it. Gleaming, silver appliances shone bright in the fading day through the window of the breakfast nook at the end. Along the left wall was the refrigerator, a long, butcher block counter, and the oven and microwave that were set into the wall. In the center was an island that had the stove top and a side for someone to sit and help, or just sit. On the right wall was the sink and dishwasher, with another long countertop. Drawers, instead of cabinets, were underneath the counters. The wood was dark, in contrast to the appliances. The overhead cabinets were also dark wood, but the centers had been removed to be replaced with etched glass.
“Wow,” Dawn breathed, feeling the sudden urge to take up cooking. Buffy was speechless, and they had only seen the kitchen! She’d probably be catatonic by the time they saw the rest.
“There’s more,” he said, feeling giddy at their reactions. He hadn’t meant to buy a condo, but once he had walked inside, and seen the wall of windows across from the front door, he was stuck. All he could picture in his head was Buffy, her tiny, golden form standing in front of those windows, her skin bathed in the light of the moon. “It overlooks the lake.” He directed them towards the wall, and smiled at their stunned expressions. The lake looked pristine from this distance, almost like nobody had ever been it in it before. The tall evergreens and pines surrounding it shielded it from downtown Sunnydale. “Over here is the downstairs bathroom. There’s a shower in here. And a guest bedroom.” They reluctantly turned away from the window to join him under the landing, to peer into the open doors. The bathroom was somewhat small, with a black glass encased shower stall, a black porcelain sink and commode. The bedroom had the same parquet floor, and a large window on the wall opposite the door. A closet sat to the right of them.
“What’s upstairs?” Dawn asked, already turning to head in that direction. The two adults followed, taking the winding staircase with quick steps. Three doors presented themselves when they got to the top landing.
“The master bedroom.” They walked inside, sighing at the hugeness of the room. A walk-in closet stood to the right of them, and the master bath stood to the left. Buffy and Dawn both sighed at the garden tub. A separate stall with the same black glass was in the corner next to the window, and the toilet and sink were also black. A linen cabinet provided privacy for the commode, and a large vanity mirror dominated the wall over the sink.
The next room was the main bath, similar to the master bath, but with just a tub, shower combo. The other bedroom was a smaller version of the master bedroom, with a door leading into the main bathroom.
“Wow, Spike. This place is gorgeous,” Dawn gushed, her young face awestruck and envious.
“Thanks.” “What are you going to do with all this room?” Spike shrugged, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one. They made their way back downstairs to stand in the living area.
“That’s what I need you two for. I sold everything from my place in Charlotte. Everything cept my trophies o’course. Wanna help me fix it up?” The two Summers’ women gaped at him.
“You want us to help you decorate?” Buffy asked.
“Yeah. Been told my decorating sense is an acquired taste,” he chuckled, the look on his face causing jealousy to flare hot and bright through Buffy. She could just imagine the little ho that told him that. Probably one of those plastic Barbies that hung around the racetrack trying to latch onto the winner.
“When do we start?” Dawn asked, excitement dancing in her eyes.
“Now’s as good a time as any. Unless you have plans with your intended tonight,” he said, almost as an after thought. The look that crossed Buffy’s face had hope flaring in his chest. His eyes jumped to her hand, noticing for the first time what was missing.
“We’re not together anymore,” she said, dropping her eyes to the floor.
“Sorry to hear that.” He hoped his voice contained the right level of sorrow, and not the happiness that was singing through his soul. Buffy’s eyes shot to his, ‘yeah right’ etched clearly on her features. Spike smiled, and shrugged a shoulder, taking a drag off his cigarette.
“Now’s good,” Dawn chimed in, reminding them that she was there.
“Yeah, now’s fine. Where do you want to start?” Buffy asked, shaking off the guilt for now. Shopping was about to commence, no time for bad feelings.
“Well, I think the first thing I need is a bed.” His suggestive tone was not lost on Buffy, and she blushed furiously.
“God, get a room,” Dawn huffed good naturedly, the chance to spend someone else’s money, even when it wasn’t on herself making her happy. Nothing perked up a bad mood quite like shopping.
“Alright then. Bedroom it is.” Buffy and Dawn looked at each other, images of bedspreads and throw pillows dancing in their heads. Spike had a moment’s panic when he realized just what he had set himself up for. It passed quickly with the thought that he would get to spend the whole day with his girls. “After you.” Spike made a grand sweep of his hand, reminding both girls of a day in the mall, before life got complicated.
They filed out to got to the car, Spike making sure to lock the door as they left.
“Where to?” he asked when they were safely buckled in the Mustang.
“The Mall!” the two girls said together, the word coming out like a battle cry. Spike chuckled again, and started the car.
“The mall it is.” With ease, he pulled out into traffic, and headed towards the mall in the middle of town.