One of One
/N: Many thanks to Megan_Peta for her hard work beta'ing and for all the inspiration.
Spike stood in the wreck of his crypt and glared at the ruined bed – the one they had never really reached that often. He sighed and kicked at the rubble.
“So much for making it a haven for the bint…”
He remembered standing frozen and unbelieving as she had stood there in her pretty purple shirt and basically given him the big heave. He had thought it was just words and that she would come back to him. But Spike now realised Buffy wasn’t coming to him for anything, anymore…
It had taken her so long to turn to him for comfort, for her to even see him and now she had gone, ascending his ladder to the main floor of the crypt and out into the daylight where he was unable to follow. She had left him in the darkness where he tried to save her. It was the last straw and Spike could feel himself losing his grip on his sanity. ‘I will lose my mind if you won't see me’ he thought bitterly as his entire being filled with sorrow. He ached to follow after her and plead his case – but deep down he knew that it was futile.
He had to get out of here, escape into a haze of drink and numbness.
He spun on his heel and stalked over to his access to the sewers. ‘Called me William, will she? Well, sod that for shits and giggles…’
His righteous snit lasted until he reached the basement access for Willie’s bar. Then the wave of depression hit him…
‘I don't know why you should want to hide - you sodding bint,' Spike rocked on his heels as he recalled the stolen kisses and hidden glances she had given him. ‘It could have been so good, perfect…effulgent even.’ Spike wailed in his mind. He had thought things had changed that fateful night in the house when she had burned him with her heat, offering him hope.
Spike had realised the next morning that she was using him, but he had hoped so hard that eventually she would accept him…love him…hell even to only care for him.
Care…treat him with kindness…a gentle touch rather than a brutal one…anything but her rejecting him at every turn. He was tried of her games and being dangled on a string…
And then last night she had sought him and foolishly he had thought from her words and touch that finally she was coming round. But he had been wrong, so very wrong.
When she and the git had blasted his home to pieces a part of him had broken as well. ‘We have lost the time that was so hard to find, all because you’re a scared little girl,’ the distraught vampire kicked a rock angrily, which bounced off his charred bed and hit him in the ankle.
He knew that Buffy had ended it because of her fear of not appearing perfect in her judgemental friends eyes. As he had said to her at the Bronze, they had no idea what she was and where she dwelled. And trying to fit herself into their idealised worldview was pathetic and heartbreaking for him.
He hesitated at the entrance and then span and stormed off. Tonight wasn’t the night for being with demons. He wanted anonymity, not the usual scorn and attacks for being Slayer whipped.
It was bad enough that the demon world mocked and attacked him for joining ranks with the Slayer, but now she had turfed him out of her embrace with a few pithy lines.
She had no idea what sacrifices he had made over and over. He had been one quarter of the Scourge of Europe and a Master Vampire, but now he was a laughing stock amongst his peers.
All for her
Spike throttled his bike to a halt outside the bar which was located on the edges of town. He had never been inside and had no idea as to what he would find in there. Hopefully a decent beer and somewhere to have a sulk…
He sauntered in – his loose-limbed boover boy strut belying the turmoil he was in. Pushing the door open he stepped into the bar.
Spike scanned around checking out the terrain – a predator by nature, he needed to know exactly what he was getting himself into. Even if it was only for a drink.
The bar ran down the left side and was dotted with a smattering of customers – all human from the smell of them- who glanced briefly at the new comer.
Spike spotted an empty booth and slumped into it with a sigh.
He stared sightlessly at the scarred tabletop.
“What’s your poison, Billy Boy?”
Spike growled and squinted up at the bored looking barmaid. “Bottle of Tequila, no sissy lime or salt – just a glass and no smart Alec comments…”
“Sheesh! Fine…” She stomped off with a flick of her faded red hair.
Spike nearly apologised and then remembered he was evil- so he didn’t. He pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes and lit one and puffed morosely on it.
A bottle slammed down in front of him and a shot glass clattered next to it. “There you go…” With that she left Spike to his thoughts.
‘But I can't get through, my hands are tied, I won't want to stay, I don't have much to say… But I can't turn away, and you won't see me…’ Spike sat there buried in his maudlin thoughts and stared into the bottom of his glass. He knew he was going to go to Buffy and try to get back into her arms, her life. He admitted reluctantly to himself that he was probably going to be talking to a brick wall, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying, even though part of him wanted to run screaming from her and the Hellmouth – but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
He loved her…
Spike sloshed another shot into his glass and drained it. The warmth of the alcohol spread through him, offering him false comfort. Probably the same sort of false comfort the Slayer thought he had been offering her. And how wrong she had been. He had offered himself to her, laying himself open to her in everyway he could and she had rejected him…again…
Spike refilled the glass and sipped pensively at it this time. His eyes scanned the bar and flicked away from the angry gaze of the waitress. ‘Great, another woman pissed off at him.’ He tentatively raised the glass in a toast to her and drank it down. She mistook his gesture and came over.
“You want something else to go with that?” She asked.
“Got any nosh here?” Spike muttered.
“Yeah. Burgers, nachos and a flowering onion,” she rattled off.
“Ruddy brilliant. I’ll have the onion.” Spike perked up immediately at the thought of his favourite snack. He dug into his pockets and pulled out some cash. He handed some to the waitress with what he hoped was a beguiling smile – these days he had no idea…
“Get something for yourself pet as well. And luv m'sorry for being a bad rude man earlier...”
She looked down at the cash and handed half back with a small grin. “You gave me too much, Billy!” She winked and headed off to the kitchen.
“Here you go, cutey.” A basket plopped down in front of the depressed vampire and then the waitress sat down opposite him. Her face was filled with concern. “You okay? It’s just I was watching you and you look so damn sad, hon.”
Spike looked up from the onion treat in surprise. No one ever asked if he was all right. He had no idea what to say, he cleared his throat and looked over at the waitress who sipped her beer and arched a brow at him in question. “I…uh…no… not okay, luv.”
She reached over and took his large hand in hers and held it lightly. She smiled at him gently and waited.
Spike looked down at their joined hands in surprise and to his embarrassment his eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with such kindness. “She left me…” was all he managed to choke out.
“Why?” She asked softly.
“Said I was destroying her…I was only trying to save her…love her with all my being…” Spike took another drink from his glass and then looked up at the woman who was sitting across from him, offering comfort in a place where he suspected none was ever offered.
“Son, sometimes a girl doesn’t want to be saved.” She smiled, her face filled with a world-weary knowledge that surprised Spike.
“But why…” Spike paused and realised with those few words the waitress had hit the nail on the head. She had in those few words explained his and Buffy’s relationship. She wanted nothing from him except to use him as a form of flagellation for herself. And he had been a willing alter for her to sacrifice herself on…until she had been found out. Then her fear and mortification had spurred her on to separate herself from him and his touch. And she had never seen him for what he was and rejected him in a devastatingly final way that had brought him to his knees…
And now he’s the one broken and bleeding from the agony she had inflicted.
“Why? Why do we do anything? That’s the eternal mystery, Blondie.” She sipped at her beer and rolled her eyes at Spike. “What’s your name, handsome. I can’t keep giving you nicknames!”
“Spike,” he replied as he nibbled on his flowering onion.
“Jane,” she offered as she squeezed his hand in greeting and then patted it before pulling away. “Tell me about your girl.”
For the next few minutes the entire sorry tale poured out of him. Spike omitted all mystical parts to his and Buffy’s so-called relationship. All the while Jane nodded and listened. Her silent support gave him strength and he continued until eventually he finished.
She sat there and stared at the bitter vampire and tried to think how to help him. Reaching over she grabbed the bottle of Tequila and filled their glasses. Spike nodded his thanks and sipped at the golden liquor. He eyed her over the top of his glass and waited for her to speak.
“Your girl sounds like she has a lot going on in her head,” Jane commented.
“Yeah, I’ve tried to help her but I don’t think I have.” Spike cocked his head and sighed.
“All I can say is be there for her, as a friend. Offer her help and just wait. Don’t crowd her and maybe in time…” Jane trailed off at the look of absolute despair on Spike’s face. She reached over and took his hand again and squeezed it tight. “Sweetie, there’s nothing else you can do but wait…”
Spike nodded and slipped his hand out from under hers and stood. “I know…thanks for the company and the advice, luv.”
“It’s no problem, Billy. But I have to say, I think her trashing your place was the pits. Can you salvage anything?” Jane asked as she stood and cleared the table.
“Dunno. Am gonna head home and see what’s left…Bloody bint destroyed everything- my heart, home and… bollocks! My records!” Spike’s eyes widened at the thought of his precious records melted together. Not only she had ripped out his heart, she had destroyed his music…
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