Chapter 10 – Decisions



Buffy closed the front door after saying goodnight to Xander and Anya, leaned against it, and sighed.


It had been thirty minutes since she’d left Spike in Shady Rest and she could still feel the smooth, cool skin of his chest beneath her hands, his lips caressing hers, and his tongue gently invading her mouth.


This was not good.


If she’d had fantasies after ‘the rubbing incident’ – as she now thought of it – two nights ago, she could only imagine the intensity they’d take on after tonight’s titillating encounter.


She shuddered and thought longingly of the privacy of her bed. Oh, she’d be fantasizing all right!


Never had Riley had this effect on her, not even in the beginning of their now-doomed relationship. The fantasies she’d concocted had been of a more romantic variety, and they had quickly faded as the relationship progressed. Riley, to her, was there. Part of her life because of his physical presence. And right now, he was gone. ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’ had decidedly not taken on its full meaning for her in the past couple of days. Which said a lot for how attached she was to her boyfriend.


Spike, however… If she was honest with herself, she could admit that he had always danced on the edge of her thoughts. Angel, and then Riley, had stopped him from moving closer.


But now that her prime distracter was two time zones away, Spike was taking a whole lot of room, especially since she’d started spending so much time with him the last four nights. She’d found out because of this that not only was he so handsome, but he was fun to be around. He challenged her, which she loved, he made her laugh, he moved with beautiful grace – which brought on daydreams of how he could move in, um, different scenarios.


Also, she liked him. She really liked him.


He constantly surprised her, shattered her perceptions of him. She realized now that she hadn’t really given him a chance in the past Sure, he liked pretending he was Mr. Evil Vampire, but she knew better now. In fact, he was kinda... nice. In a totally ‘evil’ way, of course!


She remembered the way he was with Drusilla. Ok, the dark vampiress was a psycho whore, but he had really cared for her, like, forever. It gave a girl hope that he wasn’t a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type of guy.


But did she really want to go there? Did she want to trade in her dependable and, if she was honest with herself, boring boyfriend – her ‘sure thing’ – for a proverbial loose cannon?


Sure, she admitted she liked Spike, that she was immensely attracted to him, but what did he think of her? Playful stripping and kissing aside, Spike and her didn’t have an actual relationship – besides the obvious Slayer and vampire complication. She didn’t want to put herself out there if he was only going to a) reject her, or b) string her along until he got bored or Harmony came back to Sunnydale.


It was a lot to think about. On one hand, the possibility of exploring something interesting, something hot, something real – a summer romance she could brag about for years to come. On the other, the chance she’d make a fool out of herself, wind up alone and humiliated. And potentially hurt by another vampire.


She sighed and pushed away from the front door. She didn’t want to think. Spike made her want to be impulsive. Made her want to just ignore the fact that she had to talk to Riley before she made any rash decisions.


She headed for the kitchen, for the fridge. She needed a snack before bed, preferably of the ‘cheese’ variety. Too bad her mom wasn’t awake; she would have liked to discuss the situation with Joyce, much as she had done earlier in the week. In a purely hypothetical, ‘I have a friend who…’ kind of way, of course!


The red light on the answering machine was blinking and caught her attention. Strange that her mom hadn’t listened to the messages before heading up to bed; she sometimes got work-related calls at home and was a stickler about answering the phone and checking messages.


Buffy pressed ‘play’ and opened the fridge door as she waited for the messages to start. She perused her options as one of her mom’s business contacts in Seattle prattled on about an urn that Joyce might be interested in.


Ah, leftover mac ’n cheese. Perfect.


Riley’s voice came on next, painfully loud in the dark, quiet kitchen.


“Hello, Buffy, Mrs. Summers. It’s Riley. It’s eleven o’clock, my time, and I was just calling to talk to Buffy. Um, I got your note, thanks. It was good to hear from you. Why don’t you call me when you get in, no matter what time? I miss hearing your voice. You can reach me at 515-555-2989. Talk to you soon... I hope. Um, bye.”


Thoughts of food? Totally gone. Riley had called her around nine, which was shortly after she’d left the house. To go find Spike. While her boyfriend was calling her, because he missed her, she’d been prancing down Sunnydale’s deserted streets, looking forward to maybe stumbling upon another man – a man she’d then stripped with and kissed while Riley was probably still thinking of her.


Oh, the guilt.


Buffy hit the ‘replay’ button on the machine, skipped the first message, and concentrated on Riley’s again. Hearing his voice did nothing for her, didn’t make her lonesome for his presence, or think of the way it sounded when he was whispering in her ear when they were having sex. It didn’t even sent little shivers up her spine. Not a good sign. And because it was such a bad sign, she decided, impulsively for once, to call him back. Immediately. Before she lost her nerve. Because, right now, in this particular moment, she knew what she wanted. And it wasn’t to spend weeks waiting for her boyfriend to come home from Iowa.


Now, what was that phone number? Buffy sighed, and pressed ‘replay’ again, this time vowing to pay attention.



--*--*--




Spike strolled back into Restfield, too keyed up to head back to his crypt, but too happy to want to head over to Willy’s for a drink. She had kissed him. The Slayer had kissed him. Pulled back in the end, but snogged him nonetheless.


He felt like a right ponce for being over the bloody moon because of a simple lip lock, but he couldn’t help it. In that brief moment, he had felt more warmth, more promise, than he ever had before.


And all from Buffy, the Slayer, the latest Chosen One in a long line of girls that the likes of him were meant to hunt and kill. What were the odds of that? Of William the Bloody seriously considering making a regular event out of spending time with Buffy, of trying to see if perhaps there was something between them worth exploring – more than just shagging, but perhaps, dare he hope, loving?


Ah, love’s bitch, wasn’t that what he always was? One kiss, albeit a half-naked one, from a pretty girl and he was already picturing them fighting side by side, ridding the Hellmouth of vamps and demons, and then heading back to his crypt to release some of the sexual energy that always popped up between the two of them whenever they fought – each other, together, whatever. No wonder Dru had left him because of her. He’d thought she was absolutely barmy at the time – more so than usual – but had paid no heed to her ramblings until now.


Him, fancying the Slayer. Well, stranger things had happened, he supposed.


Such as him not making a huge fuss because she wanted to kiss him, but didn’t want to cheat on her boyfriend in order to do it. After being made a fool of by Drusilla time and time again, it was refreshing. It would try his patience before too long, but it felt good to be interested in a chit who had principles. And a brain. Buffy was fun to be around, challenged him continuously, and made him laugh. Unlike that bint, Harmony, who was all “blah, blah, unicorns, blah, blah, Blondie Bear, blah, blah, does this make me look fat?” What a pain in the arse she was!


Buffy was interesting, deadly, bloody gorgeous, difficult, caring... desirable.


Unattainable.


Yeah, he was fairly confident that he’d be shagging her brains out before too long, but he wasn’t so sure that they’d still be doing the nasty come Christmas, for instance. Even if she decided to cut that soldier bloke of hers free, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t want him back come September.


He was not a creature who was used to having someone. Dru had only been his on loan. He’d wanted to belong entirely to her, and have her for himself, but she’d been saving that honor for her sodding Daddy, leaving Spike out in the cold. Therefore, he couldn’t imagine that the situation with the Slayer would be any different. Sure, there was a chance they’d spend some good times together in the coming months, but Buffy was no different than Drusilla in the end: her heart belonged to Angel. And there was no way that Spike could touch that – not even Captain Cardboard had, despite his so-called ‘normalness.’


So, he was setting himself up for yet again another heartbreak. It was really too bad that he wasn’t the ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type – well, except when it came to Harm. His unlife would be so much simpler if he could just stop falling in love.


He was nearing his crypt, but remembered to swing past the place where he and Buffy had shed their clothes in order to pick up his beloved duster before someone else happened upon it. He must’ve been really distracted by Buffy to have simply left it there when he took off after her – just another example of how he’d lose his head over a girl.


As he swiped up his coat and shirt, he spotted Buffy’s pants lying in the grass. No harm in taking them back to his crypt, was there? She’d be pleased that he’d thought to retrieve them for her. And if he perhaps spent time sniffing them and used her smell to inspire naughty fantasies, well what of it? He was evil, after all!



--*--*--



Buffy drummed her nails on the kitchen counter as she waited for Riley to pick up the phone. Despite what he had said in his message, she was uncomfortable calling him so late. As the Slayer, she was keenly aware that late-night phone calls were never of the good. In her case, they were usually from a panicked Giles, filling her in on some evil nasty or another. And when she was really lucky? Apocalypse.


Which was why she was suspicious whenever the phone rang after 11 pm.


“Hello?” a sleepy voice greeted her.


“Um, hi. Riley?”


“Buffy?”


“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to call you back so late,” she apologized.


“No, no, it’s ok,” he reassured her. She could hear rustling in the background.


“Were you in bed?”


“Yeah, well it’s past one here, so... yeah.”


“Sorry. I remembered the time difference, but your message said to call you, no matter the time, so... I hope I didn’t wake anyone else up.”


“The number I gave you is my private line.”


Private line?


“Private line? But you’re there, like, not even two months a year!”


“I had it installed in case the Initiative ever needed me when I was back here. Didn’t want my folks to accidentally hear something they shouldn’t...” he trailed off.


There was an awkward pause. Buffy nervously twirled the phone cord around her finger while she waited for him to say something, anything. In hindsight, she should have at least found a pair of pants to put on – she felt weird standing in her kitchen in only a sports bra and panties. She also really wanted to get this conversation out of the way, but didn’t, at the same time. As she’d dialed the number, she couldn’t help but think that it would be just fine with her if he didn’t answer. Which just made her feel even guiltier for what she was about to do.


“So, um, how’re things in Sunnydale?” Riley asked, finally. “Not to exciting, if that letter you sent me was any indication.”


“Yeah, still not much going on. I feel like I haven’t slayed anything in forever! It’s kinda frustrating.” Which was putting it lightly. But best not to emphasize it too much, lest Riley start asking uncomfortable questions, such as ‘what are you doing to keep yourself busy?’ or ‘do you want me to come home?’


“Well, remember, if you’re desperate for a good slay, there’s always Spike!” Riley laughed.


“Why would you say that?” she asked, injecting a little of that famous Slayer steel into her voice.


“Well, because it’s Spike! You know, vampire, annoying, bane of your existence... Stop me when I say something that doesn’t ring a bell.”


“He’s not that bad, when you get to know him!” she protested, surprised at herself for the vehemence of her reply.


Riley just laughed again. “Not that bad? Buffy, this is Spike we’re talking about. If it weren’t for that chip in his head, you’d have staked him a long time ago.”


Buffy’s heart sank at his words. He was right, and it made her ashamed to realize it. No matter how much she liked – and desired – Spike now, if that chip wasn’t in his head, she’d have dusted him a long time ago. Maybe. But probably not, her inner voice conceded.


“Well, that’s neither here nor there, Riley.” She took a deep breath, and decided to take the plunge. Him talking about Spike that way had riled – ha! – her up and it was now or never. “On a totally unrelated subject...” Another deep breath. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”


Silence.


“Riley? Are you still there?”


More silence. Uncomfortable silence.


“Riley, say something,” she pleaded. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you like this...”


“Then take it back,” was his reply.


“Take it back?”


“Take it back. You didn’t really mean it.”


“Excuse me? How do you know what I do and don’t mean?”


Riley sighed. “It’s simple, really. See, there’s this theory that – ”


“Don’t you dare try to psychoanalyze me, Riley Finn! Me breaking up with you has nothing to do with some weird, obscure psych theory that I’ve never heard of!”


“Well, then, what is it?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.


She couldn’t answer. What did you say to the guy you were dumping in order to pursue a maybe-affair with a vampire? And not just any vampire – one that the dumpee hated with a passion. Was there anything she really could say?


“Look, Buffy, you’re obviously tired and not thinking straight – ”


“Now, wait just a minute!”


“ – so I’m just going to hang up now,” he continued, ignoring her interruption, “ and we’ll talk about this later.”


“But – ”


“Goodnight, Buffy. Sweet dreams.” And with that, Riley hung up.


Buffy slowly set down the phone, unable to suppress the shiver that ran down her spine at Riley’s final words. He had just blatantly overran her break up with him. Which was very scary. It was like he had decided that by refusing to accept it, he could make it not happen. Granted, breaking up with him over the phone, after waking him up, was not the nicest way she could have done it, but still!


Could she thus consider herself single? Did Riley’s refusal to hear what she wanted nullify the breakup? Should she be concerned about his attitude?


Gah! Yet more things to think about. As if the whole situation with Spike wasn’t enough, now she had to worry about Riley.


Maybe by tomorrow, he’d have seen the light and accept that she’d broken up with him. Hopefully.




TBC...