Flat Mates

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Chapter Ten

"Buffy!" Spike shouted out for Buffy as soon as he arrived home.
Silence.

"Buffy, I saw your car, luv, where are you?"

She came out of her bedroom there a look of clear annoyance on her pixie
face.

"You don't have to scream like banshee--" She stopped, her eyes widening.
"Oh. My. God. What did you do to your hair?" she rushed up to him,
reaching her hand out and touching it as if to make sure it was real. He
grinned and leaned his head into her touch.

"Do you like it?" he asked studying her, trying to gauge her face for any
signs of what she thought beyond shock.

"William, your curls are gone," she said softly, almost mournfully.

He frowned, "Don't you like it this way?"

"It's. . . different."

"That's the whole sodding point, Buffy," he said tersely.

She stood back and crossed her arms. "All right, I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"Why don't you tell me what the correct response from me should be and
I'll just say it so you won't bite my head off every time I give my opinion on
something. Since MY opinion apparently sucks, and it's not what you're
looking for, why don't you just TELL me what you want me to think and
say and do and I'll do it so we won't argue anymore?"

"I just want you to like it, Buffy," Spike said gently. "I want you to like
me."

"I do like you William, You're my best friend. I just don't understand
what's going on with you and why. I want to understand what's happening
with you but you won't talk to me."

"Buffy—" Spike started. The phone ringing cut him off. "Just hold on.
Hello? . . . Riley Finn?" His eyes darted to Buffy, and his whole body tensed
as anger unlike anything he'd felt before ripped through him. "She's right
here," he said through clenched teeth and held out the phone to Buffy. She
averted her gaze from him and took the phone.

"We are not done," Spike said angrily.

She nodded and took put the phone to her ear. "Hello? Yeah, that was
William. I'm good. . . Yeah, I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. . . "

As Buffy chatted, nervously, Spike bore holes into the back of her head. His
fists clenched and unclenched. He wanted to punch the wall, the door . . .
Riley Finn's face.

"Sure, I'll meet you after I get out of work. Yep, at five."

Wait, what? She was making PLANS with him? The roar of anger ripped
from his throat before he could stop himself. William inside him wept.

"Uh, neighbors. Yeah, rowdy bunch. I gotta go Riley. Okay. . . yep, bye."

She hung up the phone and slowly turned to face Spike.

"What the bleeding hell do you think you're doing?" Spike shouted at her.
"You're not going out with that wanker, you understand me?"

"I'm sorry; did you change your name to Dad too?" Buffy bit back at him.

"Do you remember what he did to me Buffy? How he tormented me?"

"Yeah, in high school. I'd like to think we've all grown up—" she eyed him,
"well, some of us anyway."

"I don't want you going out with him Buffy."

"I don't want you going out with Drusilla, but that's not going to change
anything now is it?"

He stepped closer to her, grabbing her arms so that they uncrossed and
standing close enough that he could feel her breasts against his chest and
could smell the sweet scent of her vanilla body lotion. He tilted her face up
to meet his. "Why Buffy? Why don't you want me to see her?"

"What?" she whispered, her lip trembling slightly.

"Tell me why you don't want me to see her," he stated, trying to calm his
nerves and cease the hammering of his heart in his chest. William didn't
crowd anyone; William kept his distance and didn't make such bold moves
as this. Spike wanted to though. Spike wanted her to tell him that she was
jealous of Dru. Spike wanted to rip Riley's arms off and beat him with them,
and not because of what he did to him in high school. No, he wanted to beat
Riley for daring to move in on Buffy. William was across the room sadly
accepting that Buffy was going out with Riley and lying to her when he
wished her a good time. He fought to keep himself rooted where he was,
fought to demand she tell him she was jealous of Dru—she was, wasn't she?

"Because I don't like who you've become in the short time you've known
her. You're not my William anymore." She stood back from him and shook
her head. "I don't even know you anymore," and she walked away from
him.

"You do know me Buffy. This is me inside. This is the man inside." He
called after her. He forced himself to stay rooted where he was and not go
after her. He wasn't sure which part of him wanted to take her in his arms
and assure her of him, but he knew it would scare her if he did.

"Then I was the one that was mistaken," she said sadly, "because I
thought I knew you and I see now that I was wrong." She headed towards
the door, grabbed her purse on the kitchen table and started to open the
door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his
voice.

"Out."

"Where, Buffy?" he asked, striding across the room and leaning over her,
shutting the door with one hand as he towered over her back.

"You don't tell me anything anymore, why should I tell you?"

"Because I'll worry," he said simply.

"Just let me go . . . Spike."

He stared at the back of her head and released his hand from the door. In
an instant she was gone. He stared at the door wondering why he felt
saddened that she'd called him Spike instead of William. Hadn't he been on
her case to do just that? So then why should it bother him that she did it? It
wasn't her accepting him as a man to call him Spike as he had thought it
would be. No, instead her calling him Spike meant something entirely different—it meant something so profound that he felt his world shift and give way. He just lost something here.

Her. He lost her.

Calling him Spike meant she gave up on him. On William. On whom he was
and who he could be, who he wanted to be. This wouldn't do. This wouldn't
do at all, he thought, shaking his head. If he lost Buffy he had nothing. This
wasn't supposed to happen. He missed something here, he screwed it all up.
He'd been too hard on her. He'd tried too hard to show her how he changed,
how he wanted to change and in the process he drove her clear away.

Letting out an anguished cry, Spike went for the phone and dialed Dru's
number frantically.

"Dru, I need your help," he said into the phone as soon as Dru picked up.

"Has the sun set this evening?"

"Yes," he croaked. "I thought she'd like it . . . like me. What do I do?"

"All will be well, my darling. All will be well."

"How?"

"The sun will always rise for you, my Spike. Don't you trust me?"

Spike slid to the floor, and let William out as tears seeped from his eyes. "I
don't know," he told her honestly.

"She is your light, but I am the night. In darkness there is strength to be
found. Do not fear the dark, Spike. Once you accept the dark, you'll learn to
mix the two."

"Mix the light and the dark?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Time. Give it time."

"I don't want time, I want Buffy!" Spike shouted.

"Ah, see. It's already happening."

"I don't understand," Spike whimpered frantically.

"It's simple. One word answer. Love."