The room was almost uncomfortably warm, even with the window unit pumping for all it was worth. A record breaking heat wave for May had settled on Sunnydale, making all the residents dread the summer and gave one more reason for a newcomer to flee the town. Buffy tucked her tank top into her jeans and reached for her belt. After running the thin leather through the loops and fastening it, she gave herself a critical look in the mirror. In her casual attire, high ponytail and no makeup she looked like countless other teenagers in America and not the wife of a small town lawyer.

She twisted the slim gold ring on her finger. Spike had placed it there with such reverence and love. His promises of forever rang true and she had no doubt that he meant those words with everything in his heart. Her husband didn’t make promises lightly and he would honor them to the death that he had vowed.

So, there was absolutely no reason for her to doubt his ‘one days’. One day I’ll buy you a proper engagement ring with a matching wedding band. One day you won’t have to work. One day I’ll be able to afford a secretary and you won’t have to help me. One day you’ll have your choice of a car without having to share it with me. One day you can buy whatever clothes you want instead of shopping at the thrift store. One day it won’t be cheap meals at home all the time and I’ll be able to take you out. One day I’ll buy you the biggest house in town. All of them whispered to her when he saw the frustration on her face and she knew that one day he’d fulfill all of them, every last one of them.

Just the way he’d kept all of his promises from that November morning when he’d talked her into returning to his apartment with him. Liam had paid for hurting her. Her ex-boyfriend pimp was sitting in jail awaiting trial on drug trafficking, possession of illegal substances, and exploitation of a minor.

Spike had taken her away from Los Angeles and made her a respectable woman. He had her move in with his mother while he had stayed with an old friend. Since she was still underage, they had a pristine dating relationship until nine hours after she turned eighteen. On the morning of her birthday they were first in line to be married in a civil ceremony at the courthouse. After a celebratory lunch with his family and friends, they had driven to a small hotel on the coast for their wedding night. It was all very proper without anything unsavory to blemish either of the new reputations they were trying to build.

Every step of the way he had been a gentleman and asked her what she wanted. And every time she gave him the answer that made his blue eyes light up. Yes, I want to be with you. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll work to help support us. Yes, I’ll do the secretarial work for your law firm. After all he had given her so much, how could she refuse him anything that would make him happy?

Now, three months later, Buffy hated it all. She felt trapped in a life that was meant for someone at least a decade older than her. It was ridiculous for an eighteen-year-old to be married, scraping by on nothing, living in a rundown half of a duplex, checking out groceries for a living, doing her husband’s secretarial work in the evening, and having routine sex in their lumpy double bed every night.

Yeah, Buffy knew she was selfish and that she was going to break his heart. Wasn’t it better now than years later? She was still young and beautiful and with those assets she could make a fortune before she turned twenty-one. Then she could go to school, settle down, and be boring but now she wanted excitement and fun and the money to have them with. And thanks to her friend, Anya, it was all waiting for her in Las Vegas.

Buffy heard a car in the driveway and assumed it was her taxi. She hurriedly grabbed her purse and picked up her suitcase. Feeling a pinch from her wedding band against the handle of the suitcase, she backtracked and put the suitcase down. She walked over to the bed and twisted off her ring, laying it on the pillow next to the note she had left for Spike. Unexpected tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. There would be time for crying later and she turned toward the door and stopped.

“Spike,” she whispered.

One of the things he loved about being back in Sunnydale was the lack of traffic. Well, there was some traffic but compared to Los Angeles it was a breeze. Life was good and getting better all the time. Spike smiled as he climbed back into his car, laying the single red rose on the passenger seat, before pulling into the street again. He was headed home to take Buffy out to lunch. A decent lunch in a restaurant where they could sit down and be waited on. They had reason to celebrate this afternoon. Six months back in town and already one of the town’s leading citizens, the mayor’s right hand man, was coming to him for some family legal business. Of course it helped that his mother knew the man but it wasn’t going to just be handed to him. Spike would have to prove himself on the little things, like drawing up wills, but he knew in time he could show that he was creditable enough to handle more. After all that was why he was working fifteen hours a day. To prove he was worth something and to give Buffy everything she wanted.

It was still amazing to him that the petite blonde had married him; a broken down attorney who was starting over at the age of thirty-two. She had a rough start but she was still a kid in a lot of ways. The longer she was away from the life the more it became evident. The desire for nice things and the impatience to have it all now but he gave her credit for sticking it out. Buffy was with him, working alongside of him on his law practice, cooking, cleaning their tiny apartment and sleeping with him every night. His love for her had only grown over the months. It wasn’t all perfect but nothing was, so he forgave her for the things that weren’t. Like the fact she couldn’t cook worth a damn but he ate what she put in front of him. And there was the whining she did sometimes when he told her again that they couldn’t afford to go somewhere or to buy something that had caught her eye.

And then there was the imperfect sex. Spike felt guilty about how frustrated he was with it. After their first night together he had just assumed that it would at least be passionate and fun. When they had agreed to give a relationship a try between them, he had decided to give her time. To show her that he loved her and wasn’t just looking for someone to warm his bed so he had waited. Waited until she was of age and they were married. He had taken her away so they could be really alone and it was like she was going through the mechanics of it. At first he had chalked it up to nervousness but it hadn’t changed. And he had tried to maneuver them around to something else when they were together but she always seemed uncomfortable so he had let it go and hoped that one day it would change, maybe they just needed time.

Today was a start. Spike felt really hopeful that their fortune was going to change. It was the break he needed to show her that it was going to be all right. That he would be able to fulfill all of his promises to her. He couldn’t wait for the day that he could dress her in nice clothes and take her fancy places. Buffy deserved the best in life. Anything to make up for the budget they lived on, the big treat of rented movies and their Sunday ritual of clipping coupons together. Not that he was complaining because it was great to come home to someone, to have someone to cuddle with when he slept, to have someone to talk to over supper and to laugh with when something ridiculous happened during one of their days.

With high hopes and the thought of a free afternoon with his wife, Spike hurried into their apartment. He could hear her in the bedroom and he snuck down the hallway to surprise her. His footsteps slowed when he saw the suitcase in the doorway. He stepped into the room and watched in horror as she slipped her wedding band off. In disbelief he waited. Waited until she turned back around, watching as her eyes opened wide in surprise at finding him there then fill with guilt as she said his name.

“Where you going, Luv?”

He watched as she looked around the room, anywhere but at him, as a flush covered her cheeks. This had to be a nightmare from which he would waken. Buffy wouldn’t be leaving him. Just last night she had told him had much she loved him.

“Las Vegas,” she finally whispered, still not looking at him but somewhere between his feet.

“What’s there?” He asked, hoping she wasn’t going to give him absurd answers like casinos and bright lights. It seemed that his horror that had blended into disbelief was quickly becoming anger. An anger that he hadn’t felt since that afternoon he had caught Drusilla fucking that guy on their couch.

Buffy moved toward him and the suitcase. It was the suitcase she was going for so he took a step closer to the wretched thing.

“Just let me go,” she whined. God, he hated that sound. “My taxi is going to be here any second.”

“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” Spike asked, while his mind rambled. Something. Anything. Tell me that you have a dying aunt that you have to go visit. Tell me that you’re dying and you wanted to spare me watching you die. Just don’t tell me that you’re leaving me.

Her head snapped up in her own anger. Gone was the guilt, replaced by indignant justification for her brutally breaking his heart.

“Oh, that’s right,” Buffy yelled. “You took me in and did so right by me.” Her arms flung wide, leaving no room for any misunderstanding that she thought she was living in anything but a hovel. “Look at all that you gave me. And I suppose you think I owe you my life.”

“Never said you owed me anything except an explanation.” Spike stopped for a moment to swallow and to try to bring moisture back to this throat. Wasn’t that the reason his voice cracked? “We are married and it seems you’re leaving, just thought I should know why.”

Just as quickly the anger in her eyes dissipated to the lost and lonely look that had haunted her eyes so much in those first few days together.

“I can’t do this anymore. This…whole marriage thing,” Buffy whispered. “I’m only eighteen and I feel old and tired. Tired of never having anything and I’m dying of boredom.”

Spike wondered if she ever thought about how he felt. He’d bet anything that he could definitely beat her on the feeling old part. She wasn’t the one living with someone fourteen years younger and trying to stay on top of everything that interested them. She wasn’t the one watching the lines form at the corner of her eyes while dealing with someone who still thought MTV was the shit. So, this hadn’t worked out as well as they thought it would and he sighed.

“Why did you do it then?”

“To try and make you happy. Because I love you; I really do and I thought I could deal with it and I can’t.”

It was like the fight had gone out of him. All he had wanted was for her to be happy. To give her a sense of security so that she wouldn’t be afraid anymore. If it was out there somewhere then he hoped that she would find it.

“What are you going to do in Vegas?”

Spike watched as she fidgeted and brought her thumb to her mouth and chewed on the nail for a moment. Then something came over her and she squared her shoulders and looked up at him.

“My friend, Anya, works there. She’s going to help me get set up with some high class people. I’ll be independent and everything.”

“You’re going back to being a hooker?” Spike asked. His brows furrowed as he flung his arms wide and quickly drew them back to his side when she flinched. Some things hadn’t changed.

“I can make really good money.” Buffy said, her face lighting up. “Anya’s told me all about how it is out there with the money and she said there’s always something exciting going on.”

“Is that all that’s bleedin’ important to you? Worth so much you’re willing to spread your legs for strangers again.” Spike ranted, hating that he enjoyed watching her face crumple in hurt. “Guess it must have been quite a disappointment to find out that I really didn’t have any money after all. Maybe if I still had money I wouldn’t have such a cold fish in bed. Guess you can only get off on strangers who can roll you in cash and Rolexes.”

He deserved it. He knew he did so he didn’t retaliate when she slapped him. In his pain he had gone for the one thing that he knew would hurt her the most.

“And that’s all that you wanted was a whore in your bed,” Buffy screamed. “And oh, yeah, a maid to clean this dump you call an apartment and to cook you dinner. Guess you were disappointed to find out that I was just a girl after all. I’ve sacrificed to be with you and gave you everything you wanted but it’s not enough is it.”

“And I told you to do what you wanted,” Spike screamed back. “I kept giving you choices. I told you to take the time to go to college if you wanted. Go and have some fun but you said you wanted to be married. That you wanted to be with me. Tell me Buffy, was it all a lie?”

It was over. They had reduced their relationship to screaming and pain and the beginning of hate. The dreams they had whispered about with such fervor that first day had shattered completely on this last day. Now, it was time for grieving. Spike closed his eyes as he accepted that he wasn’t enough for someone so beautiful and vibrant. He felt her hand on his cheek and the first tear escaped.

“It wasn’t a lie. I thought I could but I can’t.”

A car honked outside, startling them both from the cocoon of their misery. Reluctantly, Spike opened his eyes and watched her pick up the suitcase and walk away from him. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, long enough to hear the front door close, long enough to hear the taxi door close and the sound of the car pull away taking all his dreams with it. Then he crumpled to the floor as the sobs took over with the rose still clutched in his hand. Its thorns drawing blood from the fingers wrapped around it.

Buffy had done it and she watched the duplex disappearing in the rear window for as long as possible. When the taxi turned the corner so did she. It was over. Her marriage, her dreams of being safe forever, all of them lost to a fear that she couldn’t quite contain. Simmering below the restlessness, the boredom, and the frustration was the fear. No matter what she did, she would never be good enough and had never been good enough for Spike. Today was the first time that he had ever insulted her or made her feel bad for what she once did for a living. He didn’t have to; every time she looked in the mirror she was reminded.

“Where you headed off to?” The taxi driver asked.

“Vegas.”

“You going for vacation?”

Buffy laughed. What could she say? I’m going to sell my body to men I don’t know so I can have all the pretty trinkets I want. She glanced out the window and saw the grocery store that she used to work at. On her first day, all the girls had been curious about the gorgeous man who had dropped her off. And Buffy had so proudly told them that he was her fiancé and he was a lawyer. So much pride and a respectable identity for her, instant acceptance and now, by her choices she was a whore again. Something she couldn’t hold her head up about and she met the driver’s eyes in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m going on vacation,” Buffy answered. And for $100 I’ll let you fuck me anyway you want to. Spike’s face flashed before her eyes and she let herself remember his hands that had always moved lovingly over her body, and a tear rolled down her cheek because he never would again.

Spike swirled the whisky in the glass again, appreciating the rich, warm color of the liquid as it moved. Sighing, he set it back down on the bar again without tasting it. All he wanted to do was go on a binge but he was afraid to. Would he ever find his way again if he lost control even for an afternoon? And would it be just for an afternoon? His fingers rubbed the worry lines that were forming on his forehead as he tried to decide what to do.

“How long you been dry?” The bartender asked as he wiped down the bar in front of him.

Spike laughed. The guy must think he was an alcoholic about to fall of the wagon. Slowly as enlightenment opened his eyes, he answered, “Six months.”

Drinking had been his way to forget how lonely and pathetic he had been before Drusilla, then it was to socialize, to fit in and finally his way of drowning his sorrow when his wife left. He hadn’t let a drop of alcohol pass his lips since he met Buffy. The last drink was the beer he had washed his sandwich down with the night he found her. Now he was a loser again and he was contemplating throwing away the new life he had building for six months just because Buffy left him. No, because he had driven her away.

It was always her fault, she couldn’t cook, she was too young, she wouldn’t perform in bed but in the end it was him. He had expected Buffy to save him from himself and had held her up to a standard she couldn’t reach. In the end she had returned to the only life she knew she could excel at. Someplace where she was praised and paid for being nothing more than a beautiful doll with a hot cunt.

Spike had kept promising her one day because he couldn’t accept the life they had now. So, how could he blame her for not being able to accept it? He was always waiting for the dream and because of that he could never tell her how much he appreciated just having her there. It wasn’t her that wasn’t good enough, it was him. Her laughter echoed in his mind. The laughter when they had left Los Angeles with so many dreams, her soft giggle when he had slipped her wedding band on, her sigh as he kissed her hello in the morning. Buffy had only been gone a few hours and he missed her with an intensity that terrified him.

The airport was crowded and Buffy hurried to an empty seat by the window. Sighing, she settled in to wait for Anya to pick her up. A phone call to her apartment hadn’t yielded an answer so hopefully she was on the way. The entire flight to Las Vegas had been filled with memories of Spike, the night they met, the way he pursued her and took care of her, the wedding ring she had left on their marriage bed.

Even now the memories wouldn’t leave her alone; they ran through her mind with the starkness of her own guilt. For three months she didn’t have sex with anyone and for three months there had only been Spike but it hadn’t been sex. It was making love and she was scared to death of it. He had called her a cold fish in bed and she guessed he was right because she would only allow them to do it in two positions. In the first few days he had wanted to do more things, to experiment, and she had been too terrified that he was thinking she was a slut to cooperate. She had been with hundreds of men and he had only been with two women. Did he expect her to teach him? Was it just about getting off? Too scared to let go and to unsure to talk about it, Buffy wouldn’t give and eventually Spike had stopped asking. He had been the only man to give her an orgasm and he never left her unsatisfied. Or alone, he always held her afterwards telling her how much he loved her and she never let herself really believe it.

Sighing, Buffy pulled her feet under her and looked around the airport. It was filled with every type of person you could imagine. Couples so much in love, lonely business travelers and across from her was a family going on vacation. A mom, a dad and two little children all laughing as the mother dispensed juice and cookies. She smiled and wondered what it would be like to be a mother. To carry Spike’s baby inside her body, a boy that had his blue eyes, but then she remembered. She had left all those chances somewhere else. Her hand unconsciously rubbed her belly and forced herself to think of other things that didn’t hurt so much.

It didn’t take much to think of other things although they hurt almost as much. The afternoon and the fight were right there waiting for the chance to invade her mind and break her heart. All the petty excuses she had lain at his feet but were really as much her fault as his. She shrugged her shoulders, the apartment took maybe a couple of hours to clean and the cooking, well, if she would drop the resentment act, she might be able to learn something. It was too easy say, if he wants me to cook then he can eat what I make, instead of asking for help or attempting to research what she could prepare on a budget. It’s a wonder he hadn’t bitched about it because even she was sick of the macaroni and cheese two or three times a week.

And I told you to do what you wanted. I kept giving you choices, his words kept traversing her mind demanding her attention because in the end it was true, and she hadn’t let herself see that he really had given her choices. And she had kept giving her consent to things that would make him happy instead of stating what she really wanted. Her willingness to please him was nothing more than her fear of losing him. Of him realizing how much of a kid she still was. There was no way she could compete with the woman he had been married to. And instead of trying to fit in with his world, she had thrown up walls, stood defensively behind them and blamed him when she wasn’t happy.

Her husband always offered her choices, always asked her what she wanted and she never told him. She never asked for what would make her happy or even what she needed. Her silence had distanced them and now she was alone. And even worse she had left him alone when she had vowed to cherish him.

Is going back to prostitution what she really wanted? Had she even thought it through? All she had seen was an escape with money and excitement at the other end. It was familiar and she knew she could do it. She was really good at turning off her feelings and performing. A laugh moved through as she realized that was exactly what she had been doing in her relationship with Spike. He had met and fallen in love with the real her, even down to the ugliness of her life. And since then he had been dealing with the hooker, putting on a performance to please him and it had destroyed them. Or had it?

Restless Buffy stood to look at the planes landing and taking off out the window. They always flew off and the airport was always there to welcome them back. As another plane landed it dawned on her that Spike was her airport. He loved her enough to give her the freedom to find out what she wanted and needed and would be there waiting for her in the end. He had never held her prisoner, had never threatened or blackmailed her into doing anything, and he had kept his word and had never hit her. It was her that had made the choices that made her feel like a prisoner. She had done it to herself and blamed him.

There were things that she needed from him. Things that she needed for him to change to make her happy but she needed to ask for them. She needed to be adult enough to talk to him. There was no doubt that he would listen and try. Because in the end, he wasn’t perfect but he was a good man and if there was nothing else that Buffy knew, it was the fact that there were few good men out there. And this one was hers because she didn’t need anyone to tell her that Spike was at home waiting for her. All she had to do was swallow her pride and go back.

“Buffy, sometimes you are really dumb,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed her suitcase and headed for the ticket counter.

In the end Spike had left the drink on the bar without touching it and had returned home. He had arranged his schedule so he could have the afternoon off and decided to go through with it. The card for AA meetings was on the coffee table, beckoning to him and he was trying to work up the courage to do it. But it had to be for him. Not for her. Spike laid his head on the back of the couch and stared up the ceiling fan that was slowly spinning the hot air around him. Thoughts drifted through his mind, of whom he was, of whom he had been and the little blonde that had changed his world forever. Buffy had been the catalyst that had made him wake up and see how fucked up his life truly was and that he didn’t want to live life like that anymore. It was easy to say it was for her. That all the changes and the choices he had done was to make her happy but she was miserable for it. Miserable enough living with him that prostitution was more appealing.

Unable to sit still, Spike paced the living room, as her accusations continued to assault him, And oh, yeah, a maid to clean this dump you call an apartment and to cook you dinner. It was easier to focus on this first instead of the one that tore at the core of his manhood. A maid? A cook? Is that what he expected or had they just fallen into patterns that neither questioned. He didn’t remember ever telling her that it was her job but then he had never told her it wasn’t. But he hadn’t offered to help either. She didn’t work as many hours and was home before he was, so for her to have dinner on the table seemed a logical conclusion even if she didn’t know what she was doing.

Spike moved into the bedroom and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. She wasn’t here now and maybe she never would be again but it was like an elixir to this soul as he took to scrubbing the apartment. It reminded him of how human he really was and that he was always going to be William inside. The kid that was too nerdy and too sensitive to fit in anywhere growing up. This persona he was trying to perfect, of being the big bad attorney who never lost a case while living the right life, was just that. It was a disguise to mask the imperfections of the man inside. Buffy had seen him for who he really was that night back in November and had fallen in love with him in spite of it. She had seen him broken and bawling like a baby and followed him anyway. Here to Sunnydale, to give them both a fresh start and a chance to make their dreams come true.

The vacuum cleaner tried to drown out the ugly whispers in his head but didn’t quite succeed. Spike pushed it over the carpet with a vengeance as he remembered the lost and lonely look in his wife’s eyes as she told him that she was going to back to her old life. That’s all that you wanted was a whore in your bed. The first words hurled and the ones that caused the most damage just as his words had done to her. Except that hers wasn’t flung to hurt him but to look for the reassurance that he didn’t think of her that way. He sighed as he thought of Buffy, naked and holding him, her touch hesitant and needy. She wasn’t cold because she responded and found satisfaction at his touch. She just wasn’t into a lot of games and, hell, she just never seemed to fully relax when he made love to her. It was true even when he tried not to blame her or make her feel bad, he did expect more out of her in bed. She had been a hooker, for god’s sake and there wasn’t much she hadn’t done, so why wasn’t her husband the recipient of that experience?

Maybe because I never took the time outside of bed to tell her how precious she was. Just the way she was. Spike tried to justify his thoughts by telling himself that there just wasn’t that much time in the day and he was run ragged working so much. He slammed the closet door shut as he put the vacuum away and headed for the kitchen to do the breakfast dishes. All excuses, blaming her, instead of taking responsibility for his own actions like the man he wanted to be should. Wasn’t that on the list of twelve steps the bartender gave him? Spike laughed humorlessly as he watched the water fill the sink.

Buffy didn’t ask for a lot. Hell, she didn’t ask for much of anything. When they went grocery shopping she’d ask for nail polish or a new CD by some boy band that would irritate him and most of the time he’d tell her no. It wasn’t necessary so they wouldn’t buy it. Who the hell did he think he was? Her father? She was an adult, had seen and done things most people never would, and he was treating her like a kid. Actually he was treating her worse than a kid because he was acting tyrannical. She worked and couldn’t he find it in the budget to let her have some money. Some control and some privacy on how it was spent. He hadn’t done it to be mean but everything had to be geared toward one day. But some ‘one days’ would never come. He should know that by now.

The last dish was put in the drainer. And it was time to take stock of his life. Spike leaned back against the counter and took a look around their small duplex. Blessings. It wasn’t much but they had a roof over their head and food to eat. They both had jobs that paid the bills and if he’d quit being so gung ho for a future that might never be, they had a little left over for some fun. And his most important blessing was her.

He knew if she ever came back that he had to have it together. And he knew if she never came back he had to have it together for him. Life was slipping through his fingers and he had to enjoy it now while he could. His feet took him into the living room and to the phone.

“Hi, my name is William and I wanted to find out when the next meeting was?”

The man was nice and Spike talked to him for awhile, asking questions and finally arranging to attend a meeting the next night. It was the first step. And the second was to find Buffy and tell her all the things he never had and that he’d been wrong. If she didn’t want to be married to him then he wanted to tell her it was all right and that he’d help her anyway he could. Anything other than go back to a life that would destroy her.

It would be a final gift to her. To give her the life she needed and deserved even if she couldn’t love him anymore. And he would give it gladly.

Spike hurried to the desk on the corner. When he was dusting he had seen a small scrap of paper with Anya’s phone number on it. He rifled through the papers until he found it then with his gut twisted in fear, he dialed it.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice answered.

“Anya?”

“Yes, this Anya, May I ask who is calling?”

“My name is William and I’m looking for Buffy. She’s my wife and she told me that she was going to see you. Is she there?”

“No, she’s not here.”

Sighing, because he knew even if she was there then Anya would protect Buffy. A code of honor among women and friends would deem that necessary.

“Look, I love Buffy with everything that I am. I just want to talk to her. I’m not going to hurt her or be mean to her. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

There was a sigh and silence on the phone for a moment and Spike knew Anya was considering his request.

“She’s probably going to kill me for telling you and ruining the surprise. But she took a return flight back and…yeah, the plane’s already landed. So, sit tight because she should be home any moment.”

Spike wanted to scream in relief and do a very unmanly happy dance across the living room but he didn’t.

“Thanks, Anya,” Spike said instead. “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

“No problem. And, hey, if this doesn’t work out for me, I might head your way.”

“You’re welcome anytime you need it.”

After they hung up, Spike stood debating what to do. They would need to talk. To really open up with each other and try to find ways that would make them both happy. He decided to take the free time and go over the work he had planned for later and see what could wait until another time and what had to be done by morning. If he had to stay up all night to get everything done he would. Because Buffy would be priority one and until she was happy again then everything else would have to wait.

The curtains were open and Buffy could clearly see into their apartment. She smiled in contentment at seeing Spike sitting on the floor in front of the couch. It was his usual spot for working at home and she could see the work that was spread across their coffee table. He hadn’t run and he hadn’t trashed the house. He hadn’t gone looking for her so he could drag her back, but had done what needed to be done. He had taken care of business in order to keep their lives in order. To keep his life in order because he thought she was gone. Steeling herself for what may be rejection, she stepped into their place.

Spike looked up at her but didn’t say anything.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said.

“I’m going to put my suitcase in the bedroom.”

He nodded and she continued her trek to their bedroom. Her suitcase was placed on the bed and she noticed her wedding band still on the pillow next to the note he hadn’t read. Buffy slipped the ring back on her finger and walked to the bathroom. It gleamed from the scrubbing that it had been given while she had been absent. The world and he could continue without her and she felt a pang of insecurity. Yeah, he could continue without her, but was he happy without her? She knew he wasn’t. Besides she wouldn’t want him to be so dependent on her that he couldn’t function without her. That would be the prison that she didn’t want.

After slipping into shorts and a t-shirt, Buffy made her way to the kitchen. It was dinnertime. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and doubted he had either. Opening the refrigerator, she grimaced at the lack of food but it was the end of the week and they usually ran low about this time.

“Spike,” she called.

“Yeah?”

“Sandwiches, okay?”

“That’s fine or if you want we can go out.”

Go out? Buffy leaned in the doorway and looked at him reading over some brief or something. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose and he looked adorable.

“I think we need to stay in tonight,” she answered. “Maybe we can use the money to buy me a cookbook.”

Spike looked a little confused when he glanced up at her. She knew he wasn’t sure what to say so she shrugged and smiled.

“We both know I can’t cook worth a damn so…”

“Sandwiches are fine, Buffy,” he said with a smile.

Agreeing but not really agreeing, it was really the smartest move. Must be the lawyer in him, Buffy thought as she made them a plateful of food. Four in all and he would east most of them. Cutting them into triangles, she arranged them on the plate leaving room to dump a pile of chips. She grabbed a couple of sodas and went to sit beside him. The food was placed between them and she opened his drink before placing it on a coaster next to him.

“The house looks nice,” she said before taking a bite of a tuna sandwich.

“I live here too and shouldn’t expect you to do it all.”

“You knew I was coming back?”

Spike looked a little sheepish as he put the second half of a sandwich down.

“Yeah, I called Anya. But I cleaned before I knew you were coming home. It’s my home and if it needs to be cleaned then I should do it. Just like the cooking.”

“Maybe we could switch off or something,” Buffy said. “I did a lot of thinking on the plane and I’m going to go tomorrow and sign up for GED classes.”

“I did a lot of thinking while you were gone, too and I’m going to start attending AA meetings,” Spike said.

Buffy was surprised at his announcement. She knew he had done a lot of drinking before she met him and was drunk the night they did meet. He hadn’t had a drink since that night but that didn’t mean he had a hold on the problem. She had known too many junkies on the street to be that naïve. Too much of a reaction and he would be defensive and too little would let him think there wasn’t a problem; either way could make him not get the help he thought he needed. Instinct took over and she squeezed his hand to show she understood and would be supportive. It was the right thing because he nodded with relief evident on his face.

Their choices were first steps for both of them. Both were willing to admit that changes were needed and were willing to take them. It showed there was hope for them individually and together.

“I’m sorry for leaving. I should have talked to you first.”

His fingers tugged playfully on her ponytail before drifting along her jaw.

“I love you and you are the most important thing in my life,” he whispered. “I’m glad that you came back.”

“Me, too.”

Stacked in front of her were some folders. They were on her side of the table which usually meant that letters or forms had to be typed up and she ran her fingers over the top.

“These need to be done?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to.”

A choice. He would like and appreciate the help but he wouldn’t force her to do it.

“I want to,” she answered.

It was what she wanted, she realized. She wanted to help him. He would work himself into the ground otherwise and it made her feel good to help him. When their one day happened then she would know that she had helped get them there. And if all they had was this, then she knew she was standing beside her husband and helping him anyway she could.

For a few minutes they worked side by side and ate the simple meal that was their dinner. Both were lost in their thoughts, trying to decide how to continue, to talk about the other things they needed to.

“Spike, I’ve never made love to anyone before you.”

Startled, Spike looked up as Buffy’s words broke through the comfortable silence between them. It was a revelation that hadn’t occurred to him before. He had always assumed that she had a relationship with Liam before he had turned her out. Things began to click in his mind and he laid his hand on her leg in a gesture of comfort. Buffy swallowed while her thumbs danced along the pen that was held by both hands.

“I was a virgin when I moved in with him. We had sex the first night and I thought we were making love, I wanted to please him so much,” Buffy said, breaking off as a tear drifted down her cheek. “It turns out he was just teaching me to please the customer. Two weeks later he had turned me out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so scared that you think of me as nothing but a whore.” Buffy looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading with him to tell her it wasn’t true.

He scooped her up and set her down on his lap. Her arms wound him and she nuzzled her face against his neck but he tugged gently on her hair until she was looking at him again. Sighing, he stroked her back in small movements.

“I was wrong to expect more from you in bed just because of what you did before.” His arms held her fast as she tried to scurry away. “Shhh, Pet, don’t, please, let me explain. I don’t…I don’t think of you as a whore or belittle you for your past. It’s there and we can’t, neither one of us, deny it.” Buffy settled into his arms again as she cried for what he had said to her. “Luv, when I take you to bed, I don’t think about what a great lay this is going to be or how many ways I can fuck you. Do you know what I think about?”

Buffy shook her head and looked at him with such hope in her eyes.

“I think that this beautiful creature is mine and she loves me,” Spike said, his voice cracking as he began to cry, too. “I think that I am going to make love to my wife. My wife, the woman I treasure above all else in the world. This woman is going to let me touch her and I feel honored for that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve never lied to you before, not going to start now.”

“I love you, Spike. I know I’m not perfect but I do love you.”

Spike smiled as he wiped some tears from her face. “Well, then are you going to stay here with me?

“Yes, I want to,” she said shyly and her gaze dropped to his chest. “That is if you still want me here.”

It was silly when you thought about it because he already knew the answer. Spike loved her and wanted her and was willing to forgive her anything if she would stay and love him. It was one of those moments of wanting to do scream from the rooftops but he stopped to think. His thumb continued to caress her arm as he asked himself if he really wanted to put the time and sacrifice into this relationship that would be rocky for some time to come. If this woman in his arms was the one he wanted standing beside him for all of time and most importantly, could he be the man she deserved?

“Spike?”

“Buffy, yes, I want you here. But I want you to know that I’m not going to be living on some days anymore. This,” Spike gestured at the room in general, “is what we’ve got for a while yet. It’s not going to be easy for us to make it but I know we can. In my arms is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. And even when nothing else in my life makes sense, you are the one thing I am sure of. If you can deal with it, the boredom and the lack of money, and my imperfection than yes, stay with me. If not then we’ll start looking for what makes you happy.”

Fear clutched at him as she took her moment to think about. Before they had thought that their love would conquer all but it didn’t. It had torn them apart in their naiveté. Now, those illusions were gone and they had to make a commitment based on the reality of where their lives were.

Her hand cupped his cheek as she looked solemnly into his eyes.

“Yes, I want to stay with you.”

He kissed her with all the love in his heart and all the hopes that he had for their lives. There wasn’t going to be a fairy tale ending for them but days, maybe years of hard work to form the life they wanted. And each day was going to be all the sweeter because they both knew how bad life could really be.

~~~The End~~~


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