SUMMARY: Xander got himself a new X-rated soap opera to watch. Ever noticed how soaps are just so damn addictive?
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, Joss Whedon and his minions are behind Buffy and company. I just make the characters do what they should do according to me.
SPOILER: Season 6ish
RATING: NC17, PWP
WARNING: This fic deals with voyeurism. If that's not your thing, can't say I didn't warn you :-) And for those of you who embrace their inner voyeur... enjoy the fic!
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CHAPTER 6: Trying to save the show
The front door of the apartment wasn’t closed. Xander slowly pushed it completely open. He could almost hear the dramatic music playing in the back of his head, a soundtrack to the suspense of the moment.
“Buffy?”
Only silence answered him, but instead of making him feel relieved, it made him want to run as far away as possible.
He made his way to the computer room like a man walking to his death. Sure enough, she was there, the blue light of the screen casting a halo around her blonde hair. There was a picture of Spike frozen on the monitor in front of her.
“Buffy?” He called again.
She slowly turned her head to look at him. She was frowning, her eyes wide with incomprehension. “…Xander?”
Her voice was carrying a hundred questions that Xander didn’t think he could answer.
“Buffy, I’m sorry you had to see this, so sorry…”
“What IS this?”
“I wish I could explain, but not right now. There’s something you need to know first.”
“Yes, right now. And please tell me there’s a good explanation because I don’t understand.” She shook her head, trying to make sense of what was going on.
Xander wanted to scream, cry, run away, all at once.
“I can explain, Buff, but it’ll take time and there’s something more important.”
“More important than this?” She asked, incredulous. “You have about fifty or so video on that computer--of Spike and I. God, I WANT to understand, Xander. Please explain to me why? I don’t get it.”
“Nothing I can say will make it all right. I can’t get out of this one with a joke or by playing clueless. I don’t know how or why I got caught up doing that. I can assure you though, the first time was an accident…”
“An accident? What? So these cameras just appeared out of nowhere?”
“No, they didn’t. But I didn’t plant them there. It was Warren and his geeky friends. They were spying on us all and the hardware was still in the computer when you guys gave it to me. I found out while I was trying to figure out how to use the thing. And the first thing I saw was--you and Spike--you know…”
“Spike and I fucking each other? Couldn’t you just do what I would expect you to do? Drive a baseball bat through the screen and yell at me for sleeping with another vampire? Why did you keep watching? I don’t get it. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a hard time understanding something.”
“I know. I should have stopped watching right away. But I was shocked, I didn’t understand what you were doing, what was going on with you. So I kept watching and before I knew it, I was engrossed in your life and your problems and I just needed to know more. I couldn’t stop.”
He walked up to where she was sitting and crouched down in front of her. “Buffy, I’m sure you’re thinking horrible things about me right now. You’re probably angry and disgusted, and you’re right to be. We could talk about this all night. But…”
She interrupted him again. “Xander..”
“Buffy. He left.”
“What?”
“That’s what I kept trying to tell you.”
Xander reached out to take the mouse. He dragged it to an icon and opened it. Buffy watched the rather sad display of Spike, half destroying, half packing his belongings. The blood drained from her face.
“What?.. When--when was that?”
“About an hour ago. That’s why I called you.”
“He’s gone?” Tears welled up in her hazel eyes. “He left town? He--left me?”
Xander took both her hands in his, forcing her to take her eyes off the screen. “It doesn’t have to be, Buffy. You can still catch up to him. When you didn’t answer, I went to talk to Spike. He was really upset but I think I convinced him that he was making a rash decision. I tried to get him to think about it. If he listened to me, that means he’s spending the night at that motel on the highway just outside of town. I don’t remember the name of the motel. It has a number in it… Lucky 7?”
“Super 8?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Buff, I never thought I’d have to give you that speech again, but, if you want him, don’t let him go. You love him, don’t you?”
She looked away, blinking to hold back her tears. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, I do. Ok? I do.”
“Then why are you still sitting here?”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he pulled her to her feet.
“Go!”
“But… How am I gonna get there?”
“I’d give you my car keys, but that’d be like giving you a gun and helping you aim it at your head.”
“Hey!” Buffy pouted. “I don’t think you’re in a position to tease this Slayer, buddy. I’m still angry at you and I sense a lot of kissing of my ass in your future.”
“I’ll write that down in my agenda, but for now, I’ll just call you a cab.”
She turned to leave, but hesitated. “What if he’s not there, Xander?”
“He will be. I know he will.”
“We still have a lot of talking to do when I get back so don’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll be here.” He smiled nervously at her.
She left and Xander took the phone to call her a taxi.
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“Hello?… Hellooo? Anybody working here, or do I just walk out with the money?” She rang the little silver bell a couple more times before a greasy looking, overweight, man walked out of the back room.
“Yeah, what do you want?” He grumbled.
The blonde girl plastered a fake smile on her face. “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m looking for someone who was supposed to be staying here tonight, maybe you’ve seen him? Billy Idol look alike, long leather duster…”
“Stalker? Crazy ex-girlfriend? Jealous wife?”
Buffy’s smile tightened as her patience thinned. “No--huh.” She looked at his nametag “Buddy. I’m just a friend. Could you please help me? Is he here?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen the dude.”
“Could you please tell me his room number?” She flashed him her most brilliant smile and leaned on the counter, exposing some cleavage.
“Well--I guess I’d better call his room first. My customers like their privacy if ya get my drift.”
“Please, Buddy?”
“Oh, what the heck. He can’t be too upset to see such a pretty thing knocking on his door. I sent him to room 336.”
“Thanks so much.”
“No problem, sweetheart. If he disappoints… I’m all alone here and wouldn’t say no to some company.”
Buffy shuddered at the idea, but smiled anyway. “We’ll see. Thanks again.” She almost ran out of the office.
Her heels clacked on the pavement as she walked across the parking lot, but she didn’t noticed. The sound of her heart beat drowning the noise. She quickly made her way to room 336, then stopped in front of the door.
She hadn’t prepared what she was going to say to him and she was nervous. She didn’t want to screw this up. But she soon realized that the best way to go about this was to follow her instincts and be truthful for once. She hadn’t done that for a long time and it was time for her to stop hiding behind words she didn't believe in and just be honest. With him, and with herself.
She knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer. After a few moments, she knocked again, harder this time. “Spike? It’s me. Open up, we need to talk… Spike? Are you in there?”
Again, she got nothing. Panicking at the idea that he didn’t want to see her, that he was serious about leaving town, she started banging on the door.
“Please, Spike, answer the damn door!… I swear I’ll break it down. I need to see you.”
When he still didn’t answer, she took a step back.
**Fuck it.**
She kicked the door open… Just in time to see a forty something years old bald man walking out of the bathroom, a short towel wrapped around his skinny naked hips.
“Who are you? Not that I’m complaining.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, sir.”
The ugly man leered at her, almost drooling. “Well I didn’t order anything, but I’m sure we can find something to do if you wanna stay.” He winked suggestively at her.
Buffy put her hands up and took a few steps back until she was standing outside.
“Sorry, but I'll pass. I’ve got the wrong room… Or at least, I hope I do. Spike is not in there, is he? Please tell me he’s not cause that'd be really disturbing.”
“No. He’s not.” Spike answered from the doorway of room 337.
She turned her head sharply to look at him. He was a mess. Barefoot, wearing nothing but his black leather pants, his hair sticking out in every direction, his eyes red. And he didn’t seem too thrilled to see her. She took a few tentative steps towards him, until they were standing face to face.
“Spike…”
“If you’re here to fuck me, hurt me, and walk away, then you can skip straight to the walking away part. “
“No! No, that’s not…” Buffy broke down, not even bothering to try fighting the tears.
Spike stood there, not sure of what was happening. He was internally fighting with his own emotions. Caving in, he took Buffy’s hand and gently led her inside the room and to the bed where they lay down. She hid her face in his chest, doing all the crying she hadn’t let herself do for the last six months since she’d been back.
Things were done according to Spike’s rules for once: there was no fucking, no hurting, and no walking away.
He just held Buffy until she cried herself to sleep.
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