Go From Here

Chapter Thirteen
"I want to ask you a question and I want the gut reaction, no time for thinking when I ask it all right?" Tara asked, leaning slightly forward and studying Buffy.

"All right," Buffy agreed, slightly uneasy.

"Wesley has a history with a girl the same as you have with Spike. How do you feel about it? Answer now."

"Threatened," Buffy blurted out and her eyes widened immediately.

"Would you invite her to your home with Wesley, would you be all right with him spending time alone with her
as much as you and Spike have?"

Buffy had a spark of defiance, then it extinguished. She looked down. "No. I wouldn't be all right with it. I'd
worry."

"About?"

"That they'd want to pick up where they left off. That old feelings would resurface."
"Buffy. Wesley went a little about and beyond don't you think? He might have went about it in the wrong way,
and perhaps he wasn't completely honest with his comfort level about the whole thing, but he did invite Spike
into the home you share with him and made a concentrated effort to get to know the man that you have such
a history with."

Buffy sprang up. "That's just it! He should have told me he didn't like it! Why did he invite Spike into our
home if he didn't really want to?"

"Like I said, he might not have gone about it in the best way, being that it was obviously eating at him, but if
I would wager a guess, it was because he loves you and felt in that way he was doing right by you. And how
would you have reacted if he told you he didn't feel very comfortable with Spike's presence in your life?"

"I probably would have told him to get over it," Buffy grumbled and sat back down, hiding her face in her
hands. "Relationships are such a pain in the ass. Why does anyone bother?"

"It makes the world go round," Tara supplied on a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, all it seems to do in my case is make my life a living hell. I mean. . . I feel like I'm repeating the
past all over again. Here we have Wesley," she said, holding up a hand, "and over here," she held up her
other hand, "we have Spike. Wesley is like my parents, though not tyrannical, but still a figure in my life that I
love and respect. Well, if you call my relationship with my parents one of respect, but anyway, I'm off base.
Wesley is my parents. The one telling me not to see Spike. Then Spike. . . Spike is STILL Spike. Still the guy
I shouldn't be seeing."

"Seems you have another choice to make Buffy. What will you do?"

Buffy had no answer to that.


Spike saw her walking up the path to his house and something inside him clenched by the look on her face.
She looked tired and worried. He knew. It was then that he knew what she was going to tell him. He found
himself unable to speak and only opened the door to let her in. He felt the familiar prick of tears behind his
eyes. He felt as if he were losing her all over again.

She took him in and he saw the myriad of emotions pass over her face: Sadness, fear, loss, sympathy and
then resignation. Her hands were balled at her sides as he stood before her.

"This is it then," he said softly, not daring to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Spike. I—"

"You don't have to say it Buffy. I told you if you had to do it, then. . . you had to do it."

"I told you I needed you," she told him, as if he needed reminding.

He looked up at her, "I know. I remember. I still need you."

A tear fell from her eye and Spike grabbed her, hauling her against him and holding on tight. She held him just as tight and he felt his shirt becoming wet.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "It's what I have to do."

He pulled back and stared at her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in and kissed her; deeply, passionately. Pressing his forehead to hers after coming up for air, he gazed directly in her eyes. "I'll wait for you."

She wasn't sure what he meant exactly, but she nodded, pressed her lips to his quickly and ran from him.
Closing the door, he sagged against it, sank to the ground and had himself a good cry.


When Wesley came home that night, Buffy was waiting for him on the porch. She looked up at him, her
expression unreadable.

"I should have told you," he said and she noticed how tired he looked. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt."

She stood up, standing on the top step and faced him. She had to look down at him a little bit as he looked
up at her with worn eyes.

"You think he took advantage of me. That's not the case, Wesley. Not the case at all."
Wesley shook his head, looking down. He paused, looked back up at her. "I know. I'm sorry. You were hurt and all this time, it was all about Spike. . . What was I supposed to think Buffy?"
Buffy reached out and took his hand in hers. "I think it's time I told you. Everything. Are you ready?"
Wesley nodded mutely and allowed her to lead him into their home.


Chapter Fourteen

Buffy found herself restless. More so than usual. It'd been almost a month since she'd seen Spike she knew
she missed him. It was the only way to explain the tremendous hole in heart. She felt as if a part of her were
missing and it nearly knocked her to the floor when she realized that it was Spike. Not that she didn't care for
him, because oh god, she did. She just hadn't realized the depth of it until she had to cut him out of her life
yet again. Only this time, it was by her own hand. Part of her resented Wesley though. In fact, more than part
because the resentment grew day by day.

She knew she needed Spike, she just wasn't sure HOW she needed him until he was gone and she had ample
time to piece together the past few months. She compared herself to a gaping wound after Spike and her had
been separated. She had a hole in her heart and in her soul due to their loss of each other and their baby
and she felt that she'd never heal from it. She felt she'd never find anyone to love her again. Who could love
someone as broken as she? Who could love someone who had a child and then lost a child with their first
love? Surely, no one could.

Enter Wesley.

Wesley with his head on straight, with his penchant for knowing what he wanted and succeeding at getting it
every time. He was smart, witty, kind and had a huge heart. He was an adult and she. . . she felt like a kid.
But Wesley loved her. He showered her with affection, he let her know that she was lovable. And she let
herself become swept away by that feeling. She leaned on him and she hadn't realized until now just how
much. She didn't know until she started standing on her own two feet, until she started healing and feeling
whole on her own. Until Spike had pointed out how together SHE was.

Wesley's love had distracted her from the pain of feeling empty. He gave her hope and she learned from him how to pretend to be together when inside, she felt anything but. She did warn Spike that he gave her far too much credit.

Wesley never filled the hole, never fully gave her what she needed. Because, what she needed was Spike.
Spike was the solvent, the bandage, and the antiseptic to her gaping wounds. It was with him—and it could
ONLY be him—that she put herself back together and started to become the person she had always wanted to
be. What was even more wondrous? She was able to be that person for Spike. Where he had once been her
savior, she had now become his. Only this time, it wasn't with the trappings of young, inexperienced and
fumbling love. They were equals now. They'd supported each other and they'd grown into their lives and the
path they were meant to be on together. Only. . . there was a piece missing. They weren't together in the way
they should be. And, after telling Wesley everything about her past with Spike, how happy she had been, how
giddy she had been. . . she knew it to be true by the way her heart sang at the memory and the way her lips
still tingled from his kiss.

She loved Spike. Oh, she did love Wesley. She had the whole time, but she'd never given all of herself to him
the way she had with Spike. The way she only COULD with Spike. The talks they'd had over the past few
months, the sometimes brutal honesty they'd shared with each other; she'd opened herself up to Spike in
ways she'd never opened herself to Wesley. So, while she did love Wesley, she was in love with Spike.

She'd been so caught up in doing what was right this time around, that she hadn't realized until she'd ripped
out her own heart how wrong she was. Now, she felt trapped. She'd made her bed. Now she had to lie in it.

Buffy was slicing tomatoes for the salad she was preparing for dinner. Wesley had been going on and on over
the past few weeks about some new teacher that had started at his school. Fred something or other. She felt
guilty that she'd barely listened to him speak about the man, but really, she had no interest in Chemistry,
which is what Fred taught. If Buffy wasn't so sure that Wesley was very much straight, she would have thought

that he had a crush on this Fred. He'd called her that afternoon to ask if she could please prepare dinner as
he wanted to introduce her to Fred. Seems Fred was new in town and didn't really know anyone. Wesley, ever
the generous spirit, wanted to make him feel as welcome as possible.

Buffy's mind kept drifting to the song she'd been working on earlier. She rolled her eyes. A love song. That's
all she seemed to be writing these days. Love songs…HER! It was unthinkable. She frowned as she
remembered the week before when Wesley expressed his notice of her withdrawal. She'd dodged his
questions and pretended that everything was fine. He told her that he knew everything was certainly not fine
considering she never joined him in their bed anymore. Instead, she would stay up and wait until she knew he
was asleep before joining him. She'd adamantly denied anything was wrong; just stress at work she'd said.
He'd walked away from her and she felt consumed with guilt.

Guilt was an emotion she'd become quite accustomed to. Guilt for hurting Spike, guilt for hurting Wesley.
When would it end?

"Buffy, I'm home! Fred's with me!"

Buffy plastered a smile on her face, trying to make it look as real as possible and went to the foyer to greet
her boyfriends guest.

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she realized that the person Wesley had been speaking nonstop
about was not a man at all, but a woman. A beautiful, dainty woman with chestnut, waist length hair, a shy
smile and a sweet face.

"You must be Buffy. I'm Fred. Well, Winifred Burke, but everyone calls me Fred. Thank you so much for
having me over for dinner," Fred greeted Buffy graciously, holding out a slender hand and smiling brightly.

Buffy smiled back, this time genuine, and took her hand. "Happy to have you. I've heard so much about you
from Wesley."

Fred let out a nervous laugh, "oh boy. Only good things I hope."

Buffy smiled, "all good things."

Wesley was beaming at Fred, "see, I told you. Buffy wouldn't lie. Come on, let's get you something to drink."
Buffy watched with eyebrows raised as Wesley escorted Fred into the kitchen without so much as giving her a hello kiss.

Throughout dinner Wesley and Fred spoke animatedly about any topic that was presented. Mainly, chemistry.
Buffy nodded in all the right places and asked questions where appropriate, but she hadn't a clue as to what
they were talking about. As she got up from the table and made her way to the island to pour herself some
more wine, she took in the scene before her of Wesley and Fred. She started pouring her glass, when it hit
her.

Wesley was, quite possibly, in love with Fred. If not, then he was well on his way to. Then something else hit
her with the force of a truck. Spike's words when she left him that day. ‘I'll wait for you'. She knew what he
meant. By God, she knew what he meant! He loved her and he was giving her time. He was letting her do what
she felt she had to do so long ago. He wasn't pushing her, wasn't forcing her to choose him. No, he was giving
her the choice and telling her that when she was ready, he would be there for her.

"Oh my God," she breathed.

"Buffy, stop!"

She looked down to see her glass was now overflowing with the cool liquid. She nearly slammed the bottle of
wine down and looked up to see Wesley and Fred staring at her curiously.

"Just went somewhere else for a minute," she explained hastily. "Anyone want some wine?" She asked and
brought over the bottle.

Wesley took it from her. "I'll pour it."

***I smell some Spuffy around the corner.....:)