When Doves Cry
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,917
Reviews:
2
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,917
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), or the Anita Blake world and/or series, nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
This Is What It Sounds Like When Doves Cry
When Doves Cry
By Ebony Silvers
Chapter 5
"This Is What It Sounds Like When Doves Cry”
Santa Monica, California
Monday 6:34 a.m.
September 10, 2018
"The sun's coming up. Why don't you come inside?" Jack asked as he stepped up behind her.
Baby stared out at the Pacific. "I'm fine, Jackie. The light can't reach me here." The bulk of their hotel was between her and the incipient sunrise. It would be nearly noon before it could reach this western patio.
Jack nodded. He knew she was right; he just didn't like to take any chances. He also didn't like her choice of words. He wrapped his arms about her and settled her back against his chest. She continued to stare out over the broad stretch of sand to the water beyond. "What do you see?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered. "Just the ocean." She leaned against him. "I like the ocean. It doesn't really change. It appears to but just below the surface, it's always the same. It the opposite of people."
She had never answered his original question. She didn't tell him that the real reason she stayed out each morning was to watch color bloom in the sky and water. If she were lucky, if the smog and fog wthinthin, then some mornings the sky would turn the blue of Spike's eyes. Other days, if she were lucky, she'd see the color of Rene's eyes reflected from the ocean. She'd thought of going to Cancun where the sea was always the color of Rene's eyes and the sky the color of Spike's but decided she couldn't bear to see that all the time. Occasionally was better. Occasionally was something she could stand. It was enough to remind her what colors were when everything had gone so gray and dreary but not so much as to be a constant reminder of what she was missing living in the grayness.
Today the mists were too thick, the sky and water were washed out and dull, covered in a drab blanket. With a sigh, she let Jack lead her back inside.
"Why don't you get ready for bed?" he said. "Do you want me to fix you a drink?" She nodded and he stepped into the little kitchenette. He liked the old hotel she had found. Built in the hey day of Hollywood, it was tiny and intimate. The hardwood floors squeaked and the many-layered paint on the walls was thick as plaster. Bougainvillea flourished against the stucco and birds of paradise bloomed in big tubs beside the shadowy path that ran through the palm trees outside their door. It was shady and cool, a garden-like place removed from the hustle of L.A. From the balcony, he could see the steep stairs that led to a black iron gate and the beach beyond. They'd been here for nearly a month now and Jack felt quite comfortable in their apartment-like rooms. The staff knew them as Jack and Abby Wilson. No one bothered them. No one questioned them. One nice thing about L.A., no one thought it odd that they slept during the day and only came out at night. It was peaceful here.
The serenity of the little hotel didn't seem to be communicating itself to her, though. It had been over six weeks since they'd left New Orleans and if anything she seemed more despondent now than she had then. She was quieter with each new sunrise. She was changing before his eyes into a different person. Already she dressed differently. She'd eliminated the extravagant, provocative clothing that had so irritated him when he first met her. He hadn't seen her in anything but jeans and loose sweaters or shirts since they'd left Texas. Her nails were still long and well cared for but now they were left natural and no longer sported unusual colors. He would have bet that if the Powers That Be hadn't altered her hair color that it would no longer be red. Baby Roxton had vanished. Abby Wilson was a very different woman.
Jack wasn't sure that was a good thing. He wasn't sure how he felt about Abby. Of course, he wasn't sure how he felt about Baby, either. He rather missed the flamboyance. He missed the outrageous behavior. He wondered now how much of it had been an act. He wondered if he'd ever seen the real Baby.
He admitted that he looked different, too, but he'd been slowly changing over the last two years. His time with her, his knowledge of her world, had changed him and his outer appearance was slowly catching up with his inner transformation. He wore suits less and less. He'd found he preferred jeans, chambray shirts, and cowboy boots. When the job required him to don a suit, they were the beautiful designer ones that Baby purchased for him, as far from the average agent's attire as this hotel was from Royal Street. The buttoned-down appearance he'd cultivated so carefully had died and been given away to GoodWill with the rest of his belongings from Chicago. Now he'd left even those in New Orleans. He smiled; he didn't even own a suit. Somewhere down the line, their wardrobes, once polar opposites, had met in the middle. He supposed they had, too.
Still the changes in her concerned him. Daily she grew... duller, dimmer, as though light and color were leeching from her, and leaving her grayed and muted. She was fading away as he watched. She still hunted but the vibrancy there had gone. It worried him.
When she went into the bedroom to shower and get ready for bed, Jack stepped back outside. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number he'd been told to use only in dire emergencies. Well, he figured this was as dire a time as any he'd seen.
He waited patiently for the call to go through. "Spike? It's Jack. Can you come to L.A.?"
~~~~~
Mobile, Alabama
Monday 11:23 a.m.
September 10, 2018
Jean plucked the bottle from his husband's hand, barely suppressed rage in every line of his body. He'd finally had enough. "You've got me. What do you need that for?" he asked through clenched teeth. Before Rene could answer, Jean continued. "If you're worried about hurting my feelings; let me explain to you that it hurts a hell of a lot more for you to turn to the liquor to get you past whatever it is she's done now...." He paused to keep from shouting. "...Than it does for me to help you."
Jean didn't care what new tragedy his mother had visited on his brother. He had only rage for her continuing interference in his life. He was sick of Baby and her needs and her inability to settle for one man. He was sick of René's continuing blindness where she was concerned. Why couldn't his brother see that he could let her go or he could let her destroy him? Jean had realized that long ago. He'd loved her once, too, before she became a force of destruction bound to rip his family apart. It had been bad enough to wake up alone the evening of his marriage but to find that he was alone because René was drinking again had hurt more than Jean thought possible. But René had apologized and for another week Jean had lived perfection.
But slowly René had slipped back into the habit of drinking. He bounced between devoted attentiveness and drunken stupors. A couple of times a week became every other day and now every night Jean woke alone to find René had spent his day downing tequila. Jean had tried to talk to him. Had tried to gently find out what was going on in his brother's head. He'd tried to convince René to leave the booze alone. He'd been ignored. Gentle and loving wasn't working. René was locked in his need for their mother again. Why couldn't René listen for once? Why couldn't he simply see? Why did he always want something he couldn't have? Why did he always ignore what was right in front of him?
Jean glared at his husband. Jean knew the deal he'd made to be with René. And it didn't include watching René drink himself to death. "I'll take being second to her but I won't take being second to a bottle of tequila," he spat.
René stared his consort. He'd never felt such anger as was now flowing from Jean. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to... I didn't think..."
"You never think, René; you just react. So I'll do the thinking." Jean tossed the bottle against the walt cat caring that it shattered. In fact, it rather pleased him to hear the glass as it tinkled to the floor. "I'm better at it anyway." He was more than capable of taking the initiative in their relationship if he needed to. And it appeared he definitely needed to.
Jean snarled down is his husband. René had spent the last four days of their marriage in staggering drunk. Jean was completely tired of it. He grabbed René by the front of his shirt. "I maybe marked as your property but by God, I'm still your older brother and I can still kick the shit out of you ied bed be." He shook René. "I'm not gonna let you kill yourself. And you're not gonna drink yourself into oblivion everyday." He would not allow Rene to destroy himself. Jean had finally achieved what he wanted. He was Rene's husband. He wasn't going to let his brother throw that away. Jean would see that somehow they found happiness, even if he had to half kill René to achieve that. Jean wouldn't be pushed aside again. "You want to lose yourself; you lose yourself e. e. You're mine!" He kissed René roughly. "And it's time you started acting like it."
Cordelia applauded. "Thank God. I thought I'd have to slap both of you." She leaned nonchalantly against the doorway.
Jean arched an eyebrow at her. He had no idea how long she'd been there or how much she'd heard. Cordelia still confused him sometimes. She'd been here with René for months now. She had become his acknowledged lover butarenarently she had no problems with René's change in marital status. She'd accepted Jean into the household as though his appearance was an expected event. Maybe it was. He had no idea how much or how little Cordelia's powers showed her of her life. Jean was used to Drusilla who seemed to see all permutations of the future simultaneously. He was certain Cordelia didn't possess the gift to that extreme but he was sure that her powers had to color her life. "Why?"
"Him drinking and you moping," she explained. had had been pleased when René brought Jean home. René had become precious to her. He was not at all what she had thought he'd be when she asked him to let her leave New Orleans with him. She'd expected him to be self-centered and shallow like many extraordinarily handsome men were. She found that he was indeed self-centered but not selfish. He was consumed with pain at the loss of his love, as shattered as Cordelia herself. Yet he was willing to try to comfort her. He'd opened his heart and arms to her. She discovered that Rene Beaumont was as caring a man as any she'd ever met. He was kind and gentle, more so than she'd believed possible. She hadn't lied when she told Angel that that René was the only thing that had kept her alive and sane since she'd left her husband.
When he had called her from New Orleans explaining Jean's state and that he was bringing his brother to live with them, she'd been happy. She'd been even more so when René had told her of his and Jean's decision to finally engage in a real relationship. Their marriage had been a surprise albeit a pleasant one. Not that she didn't understand it; Jean DuValliere was infinitely claimable. She had been impressed with him when she'd lived at Rue Royale even though she saw little of the crown prince. The past month had increased her respect for him. She was also becoming genuinely fond of him. She'd hope he would bring some happiness to the house. But the last week had been a nightmare again. "I've had about all of it I can stand. You don't mope well, Jean. It's not becoming at all." She hadn't liked seeing the brown-eyed Cajun so hurt by René's actions. Jean had enough problems without René adding to them. Much as she loved René, she wanted to slap him for how he was acting. She moved closer to them and addressed René severely. "Jean's right. You don't need booze." He needed to quit hiding from his problems. And he wasn't the only one. She smiled at Jean. "You just need us."
Jean's other eyebrow joined the first.
"It's time the three of us had a long talk." She folded her arms across her chest. "René, you need to get your shit together." Before he could protest, she continued. "And so do I." She looked at Jean. "I'm through crying. I've thought about it for the past week. I can sit here and cry my life away or I can start living again. I've decided to live." Angel had hurt her beyond her ability to measure but part of the blame was her own. She'd been willfully blind to what was going on around her. If she'd paid attention earlier she might have been able to stop what later occurred or at least have walked away before her heart was completely engaged. She had watched René spiral downward for over a week now and seen herself reflected in pain-filled teal eyes. She'd decided she wasn't going to be that pathetic. And she wasn't going to let René self-destruct either. He'd been there for her and she'd be there for him.
She turned back to René. "When you first brought Jean home, you were better, then you went all Wuthering Heights on me again." She joined the pair and stroked René's cheek. "I don't know what's going on under that perfect hair of yours-- which by the way is so unfair, you're a guy; you don't need perfect hair!-- but you'd better get your head on straight." She glared accusingly at him though the hand on his face was still gentle and soothing. "And right now." She focused on the other brother and smiled. "Looks like I'm not going to have se tse the speech I had prepared for you," she said and held out her hand to him. "Nice to see at least one man in the family has some sense."
"Thank you," Jean said sardonically. He wasn't particularly afraid of Cordelia. In fact, he'd found he liked her a great deal. He took the hand she offered and rubbed his thumb across her knes. es.
Her smile softened. "Well, since you and I have our acts together, you think we can get Hamlet here straightened out?"
Jean smiled back. "You mean the two of us? Together?"
She pulled his fingers to her lips, letting him know exactly what she had in mind. She took René's hand and smiled at him waiting until he smiled back at her. She looked up at Jean. "No. I mean the three of us, together."
~~~~~
Santa Monica, California
Monday 11:53 p.m.
September 10, 2018
Baby was so out of it, so withdrawn she didn't realize Spike was nearby until he knocked on the door of their suite. She looked in horror at her Companion as she sensed her spouse. "What have you done, Jack?" she breathed.
"Saved your life. Or ended mine," he answered and opened the door. "Come in, Spike," he said ignoring her glare.
Spike inclined his head sharply as he stepped across the threshold. "Thanks for the call." He looked Jack up and down. A smirk appeared. "You're dressing like René these days," Spike said.
Jack bristled. "René has two pounds of silver on his boots. His shirts are silk, loud, and he wears them half-unbuttoned so he can show off that body he's so damned proud of. His jeans are so tight it's a wonder he can walk. He wears more jewelry than I own. He's an affront to decently dressed men everywhere." He folded his arms and glared at the Master of New Orleans ignoring the fact that Spike's dress sense was nearly as outrageous as René's. "I am not dressing like him."
Spike laughed and stated to retort when he saw his consort. Whatever he'd been about to say fled his mind. He brushed past Jack. "Pet." He stared down at her, all his well-rehearsed speeches suddenly seeming amazingly inadequate. He dropped down so he was on her level. "I..." There was only one thing burning in his mind. "Why, pet? Why did you leave?" Finding her note had been as bad as anything he could remember. Discovering she'd really left without a word of goodbye had hurt.
Jack moved past them both and went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He wasn't going to leave them alone; they might kill each other. He'd give them what privacy he could but he'd be nearby in case Spike walked out. If that happened, Baby would need him.
She shook her head. "I had to," she whispered. "I wasn't helping anything by staying."
Anger flash through Spike. "And running out on me without a word helped?" He wanted to shake her. He wanted to bang her head against the wall.
"I didn't run out on you," she retorted. "I saw you with that girl and I just knew you didn't need me any more." She set her jaw. "And I can tell by the smell that I was right. You've taken her as your lover."
Spike stood and moved away. He wasn't ashamed of taking Anne as his lover. So why did he feel so awful? He allowed the anger he felt to drown that touch of guilt. "Well, I didn't have anything to stop me, now did I? My wife didn't want me any more." Saying the words hurt. Unwanted. Just like he'd always been.
"I never said that!" Baby countered and clenched her fists. "I never said I didn't want you. I said you needed to be happy." He was being obtuse again. How could he think she actually wanted to leave? Why was he always so blind?
"So you left me so I'd be happy?" Spike glared at her. Perhaps she was still insane. That was the only explanation that made sense. "You broke my heart so I'd be happy?"
"You don't look or smell very heartbroken to me," she snapped. She'd known he was going to take the human woman as his lover. It was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? He'd done what she'd hoped he'd do. Why did it twist her insides?
Jack poured his coffee and turned up the stereo so he didn't have to listen to them argue. For once, he was glad he didn't have vampire hearing. He sighed. He had a feeling he'd be staying in California for the foreseeable future at this rate. He'd never met two people more determined to make themselves miserable. The stereo didn't completely cover the recriminations and counter-recriminations that flooded the tiny living room. He shook his head. To any half-intelligent outsider it was obvious that they were both completely in love with each other and miserable apart. Why couldn't they see it? Jack wanted to knock their heads together. He listened as the argument escalated. He could read the words beneath each statement. He heard Baby's unspoken plea for Spike to just say he loved and needed her. He heard Spike's cry for Baby to say she still wanted him more than anyone else. Unfortunately, both of them were deaf to what the other was really saying. He rolled his eyes.
Trying to ignore the marriage imploding five feet from him, he tried to find something to focus on and concentrated on the love song on the stereo. He thought a moment and set his cup down on the counter with a click. He looked at the combatants and frowned. "Shut up! Both of you! Just shut up," he ordered.
Baby blinked at him. Spike snarled.
Jack ignored them both and hit repeat on the stereo. "Put your teeth back. Just shut up and listen for a minute." He turned up the volume.
Looking at the pages of my life,
Faded memories of me and you,
Mistakes you know I've made a few.
I took some shots and fell from time to time.
Baby, you were there to pull me through.
We've been around the block a time or two.
I'm gonna lay it on the line.
Ask me how we've come this far.
The answer's written in my eyes.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've paid some dues, baby.
We've been to hell and back again.
Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been co to to
I'm all about lovin' you.
You can take this world away.
You're everything I am.
Just read the lines upon my face.
I'm all about lovin' you.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
All about lovin' you.
He watched their faces as the song played out and grinned. "Now, can either of you tell me that isn't the pair of you?" They didn't say anything but he was fine with that. "Spike, do you wan div divorce Baby and marry this new girl?"
"No!" Spike said instantly. "I would never..."
"Good," Jack interrupted. "Baby? Do you want to divorce Spike? Do you want to be free?"
"No!" She ws ems emphatic as Spike.
"Good." Jack didn't give her a chance to say anything else. "So neither one of you want to end your marriage. So far, so good." He thought a moment. "Baby, you say you left so Spike could be happy. Spike, are you happy without Baby?"
"No," Spike said forcefully and faced his consort. "I'm miserable without her."
Jack nodded and thought back over the last month. "Well, I can vouch for the fact that she's miserable without you." He looked at his mistress. "Your plan didn't work. He's not happy; you're not happy. Time to rethink the plan. Sounds like it's time to go home to me." He held his hand up. "I know. You're afraid too much has happened. That love isn't enough to see the two of you through. It won't be if you two don't stop acting like idiots. But it's a hell of a good start. I think you two need to admit up front that you can't stand being apart. It's true isn't it?"
Spike looked at Jack with new eyes. He'd no idea the puppy was so insightful. "Yeah, it's true. I can't stand that house without her in it."
The look on Baby's face was everything Jack could have hoped for. "Good. Tell her about it."
Spike complied. He decided to be completely honest. He remembered a time when he didn't stop to think about how something would sound before he said it to Baby. "Anne helps, but she isn't you. The house is empty without you. I hate it."
Jack nodded. "Baby, do you like it here? Am I enough? I'm not, am I? I'm not him." The soft look in his green eyes told her that he didn't mind.
"No," she answered. "You've been wonderful, Jack, but you're right. You're not Spike."
milemiled and placed a hand on Baby's cheek. "I know that. It doesn't bother me. But seeing you waste away does." He focused on Spike. "She's a wreck. Has been for the last month. She gets worse each day. I'm betting you do, too." He smiled. "You need to talk. Not argue. Talk." He looked down at his lover. "Tell him how you really feel. Talk. You told me that the two of you use to talk about everything. Well, do that again for a change." He picked up his jacket. "I'm going for a walk." He left without another word.
Spike gazed at the door. "He's not what I expected."
Baby smiled softly. "He's something else, that's for sure." She looked up him. "He's right. We don't talk any more."
Spike nodded. "I've missed that. More than anything, I miss talking to you." He came and sat down beside her. "I think of something or something happens and I turn to tell you about it and ... I don't know what happens. It just dot cot come out." He took her hand. "I saw a street musician yesterday and I thought of how much he'd have amused you. I wanted to tell you about him but..."
"But I wasn't there," she said sorrowfully.
"No, well, yes." He shook his head. "That's not the point. Even if you'd been there I don't think I would have. I can't seem to think of the words any more."
She looked down at their hands. It looked so right, his hand holding hers. "Why? You've never had trouble with words. You're better with words than any one I know."
"Am I?" he asked. "What can I tell you any more? What can I say that would interest you since..." he stopped abruptly.
"Since what, Spike? What changed?" She squeezed his fingers. "What did I do to make you hate me? I know there's René but things had gone bad long before that. I just wish I knew what I did."
Heked ked down at their hands as well. His wedding bands glittered on her finger. That had never changed. Whatever body she wore, his rings were always on her finger. Jack's song played over; he'd left it on repeat. "You didn't need me any more," he said softly.
She looked at him in shock. She reached out and tilted his head up. "I'll always need you," she said. "Look at me, Spike." He looked the way he did in Sunnydale, the way he'd looked in Mexico. Buffy hadsed sed that look and Baby had hated her for. Now Baby herself was the one causing it because he thought she no longer needed him. She smiled sadly. "I need you so much; I'm dying without you. You're what keeps me alive."
A muscle in his jaw jumped uncontrollably. He'd lived in constant fear for four years of her leaving and as he feared it had happened. Now he realized that he'd brought it one'd e'd been so afraid she'd leave he began pushing her away. And she'd finally run. He took in everything about her and realized the truth of her words. She was fading away. For lack of his attention. Not René, not Jack, not Angel. Him. She needed him. She didn't necessarily need him to protect her or care for her but she desperately needed his attention. The band that had been squeezing his heart for years loosened and fell away. She might not need his strength she she needed his time and his love. And he needed her just as desperately. Her warmth no longer lay in her body, it lay in her eyes. The humanity he craved was still there, she just no longer wore it on the surface. She was his wife still. She was still the woman he fell in love with.
Something she hadn't seen in a long time shown from his face. He kissed her hand and smiled at her. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I want to tell you about a street musician I saw yesterday," he began. "And then I want tell you about how silly Beau's newest child is. And then I want to tell you how much I love you."
Jack's song continued to play and Spike decided to take the singer's advice.
Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.
She smiled and tears sprang into her eyes. "Please. I want to hear about all of that. I want to hear anything you want to tell me."
He smiled back. "I want to tell you everything. I've got four years of things I want to tell you." He leaned over her, unable any longer to remain at even the smallest distance from her. He had to hold her again. "Tell me I'll have the chance to do that. Tell me you'll come home."
She looked up into eyes she searched the skies for each morning. She caressed one perfectly chiseled cheek. "You're holding me, aren't you? I am home."
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
His lips found hers as the song played its ending and began again.
Fini
~~~~~
Author's notes:
"All About Loving You" by Jon Bon Jovi used without permission but with much love and respect for an amazing talent.
Quotes from "Legacy" by Esme used with permission and deep gratitude. The character of Anne belongs to Esme and I am grateful both for permission to use her and for the wonderful addition both Anne and Esme make to the BabyVerse.
Many thanks to Kai and Ten for the extensive beta work.
Sunrise and Sunset times provided by the United States Naval Observatory web site at http://aa.usno.navy.mil/ . (What? You thought I made it up??)
By Ebony Silvers
Chapter 5
"This Is What It Sounds Like When Doves Cry”
Santa Monica, California
Monday 6:34 a.m.
September 10, 2018
"The sun's coming up. Why don't you come inside?" Jack asked as he stepped up behind her.
Baby stared out at the Pacific. "I'm fine, Jackie. The light can't reach me here." The bulk of their hotel was between her and the incipient sunrise. It would be nearly noon before it could reach this western patio.
Jack nodded. He knew she was right; he just didn't like to take any chances. He also didn't like her choice of words. He wrapped his arms about her and settled her back against his chest. She continued to stare out over the broad stretch of sand to the water beyond. "What do you see?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered. "Just the ocean." She leaned against him. "I like the ocean. It doesn't really change. It appears to but just below the surface, it's always the same. It the opposite of people."
She had never answered his original question. She didn't tell him that the real reason she stayed out each morning was to watch color bloom in the sky and water. If she were lucky, if the smog and fog wthinthin, then some mornings the sky would turn the blue of Spike's eyes. Other days, if she were lucky, she'd see the color of Rene's eyes reflected from the ocean. She'd thought of going to Cancun where the sea was always the color of Rene's eyes and the sky the color of Spike's but decided she couldn't bear to see that all the time. Occasionally was better. Occasionally was something she could stand. It was enough to remind her what colors were when everything had gone so gray and dreary but not so much as to be a constant reminder of what she was missing living in the grayness.
Today the mists were too thick, the sky and water were washed out and dull, covered in a drab blanket. With a sigh, she let Jack lead her back inside.
"Why don't you get ready for bed?" he said. "Do you want me to fix you a drink?" She nodded and he stepped into the little kitchenette. He liked the old hotel she had found. Built in the hey day of Hollywood, it was tiny and intimate. The hardwood floors squeaked and the many-layered paint on the walls was thick as plaster. Bougainvillea flourished against the stucco and birds of paradise bloomed in big tubs beside the shadowy path that ran through the palm trees outside their door. It was shady and cool, a garden-like place removed from the hustle of L.A. From the balcony, he could see the steep stairs that led to a black iron gate and the beach beyond. They'd been here for nearly a month now and Jack felt quite comfortable in their apartment-like rooms. The staff knew them as Jack and Abby Wilson. No one bothered them. No one questioned them. One nice thing about L.A., no one thought it odd that they slept during the day and only came out at night. It was peaceful here.
The serenity of the little hotel didn't seem to be communicating itself to her, though. It had been over six weeks since they'd left New Orleans and if anything she seemed more despondent now than she had then. She was quieter with each new sunrise. She was changing before his eyes into a different person. Already she dressed differently. She'd eliminated the extravagant, provocative clothing that had so irritated him when he first met her. He hadn't seen her in anything but jeans and loose sweaters or shirts since they'd left Texas. Her nails were still long and well cared for but now they were left natural and no longer sported unusual colors. He would have bet that if the Powers That Be hadn't altered her hair color that it would no longer be red. Baby Roxton had vanished. Abby Wilson was a very different woman.
Jack wasn't sure that was a good thing. He wasn't sure how he felt about Abby. Of course, he wasn't sure how he felt about Baby, either. He rather missed the flamboyance. He missed the outrageous behavior. He wondered now how much of it had been an act. He wondered if he'd ever seen the real Baby.
He admitted that he looked different, too, but he'd been slowly changing over the last two years. His time with her, his knowledge of her world, had changed him and his outer appearance was slowly catching up with his inner transformation. He wore suits less and less. He'd found he preferred jeans, chambray shirts, and cowboy boots. When the job required him to don a suit, they were the beautiful designer ones that Baby purchased for him, as far from the average agent's attire as this hotel was from Royal Street. The buttoned-down appearance he'd cultivated so carefully had died and been given away to GoodWill with the rest of his belongings from Chicago. Now he'd left even those in New Orleans. He smiled; he didn't even own a suit. Somewhere down the line, their wardrobes, once polar opposites, had met in the middle. He supposed they had, too.
Still the changes in her concerned him. Daily she grew... duller, dimmer, as though light and color were leeching from her, and leaving her grayed and muted. She was fading away as he watched. She still hunted but the vibrancy there had gone. It worried him.
When she went into the bedroom to shower and get ready for bed, Jack stepped back outside. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number he'd been told to use only in dire emergencies. Well, he figured this was as dire a time as any he'd seen.
He waited patiently for the call to go through. "Spike? It's Jack. Can you come to L.A.?"
~~~~~
Mobile, Alabama
Monday 11:23 a.m.
September 10, 2018
Jean plucked the bottle from his husband's hand, barely suppressed rage in every line of his body. He'd finally had enough. "You've got me. What do you need that for?" he asked through clenched teeth. Before Rene could answer, Jean continued. "If you're worried about hurting my feelings; let me explain to you that it hurts a hell of a lot more for you to turn to the liquor to get you past whatever it is she's done now...." He paused to keep from shouting. "...Than it does for me to help you."
Jean didn't care what new tragedy his mother had visited on his brother. He had only rage for her continuing interference in his life. He was sick of Baby and her needs and her inability to settle for one man. He was sick of René's continuing blindness where she was concerned. Why couldn't his brother see that he could let her go or he could let her destroy him? Jean had realized that long ago. He'd loved her once, too, before she became a force of destruction bound to rip his family apart. It had been bad enough to wake up alone the evening of his marriage but to find that he was alone because René was drinking again had hurt more than Jean thought possible. But René had apologized and for another week Jean had lived perfection.
But slowly René had slipped back into the habit of drinking. He bounced between devoted attentiveness and drunken stupors. A couple of times a week became every other day and now every night Jean woke alone to find René had spent his day downing tequila. Jean had tried to talk to him. Had tried to gently find out what was going on in his brother's head. He'd tried to convince René to leave the booze alone. He'd been ignored. Gentle and loving wasn't working. René was locked in his need for their mother again. Why couldn't René listen for once? Why couldn't he simply see? Why did he always want something he couldn't have? Why did he always ignore what was right in front of him?
Jean glared at his husband. Jean knew the deal he'd made to be with René. And it didn't include watching René drink himself to death. "I'll take being second to her but I won't take being second to a bottle of tequila," he spat.
René stared his consort. He'd never felt such anger as was now flowing from Jean. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to... I didn't think..."
"You never think, René; you just react. So I'll do the thinking." Jean tossed the bottle against the walt cat caring that it shattered. In fact, it rather pleased him to hear the glass as it tinkled to the floor. "I'm better at it anyway." He was more than capable of taking the initiative in their relationship if he needed to. And it appeared he definitely needed to.
Jean snarled down is his husband. René had spent the last four days of their marriage in staggering drunk. Jean was completely tired of it. He grabbed René by the front of his shirt. "I maybe marked as your property but by God, I'm still your older brother and I can still kick the shit out of you ied bed be." He shook René. "I'm not gonna let you kill yourself. And you're not gonna drink yourself into oblivion everyday." He would not allow Rene to destroy himself. Jean had finally achieved what he wanted. He was Rene's husband. He wasn't going to let his brother throw that away. Jean would see that somehow they found happiness, even if he had to half kill René to achieve that. Jean wouldn't be pushed aside again. "You want to lose yourself; you lose yourself e. e. You're mine!" He kissed René roughly. "And it's time you started acting like it."
Cordelia applauded. "Thank God. I thought I'd have to slap both of you." She leaned nonchalantly against the doorway.
Jean arched an eyebrow at her. He had no idea how long she'd been there or how much she'd heard. Cordelia still confused him sometimes. She'd been here with René for months now. She had become his acknowledged lover butarenarently she had no problems with René's change in marital status. She'd accepted Jean into the household as though his appearance was an expected event. Maybe it was. He had no idea how much or how little Cordelia's powers showed her of her life. Jean was used to Drusilla who seemed to see all permutations of the future simultaneously. He was certain Cordelia didn't possess the gift to that extreme but he was sure that her powers had to color her life. "Why?"
"Him drinking and you moping," she explained. had had been pleased when René brought Jean home. René had become precious to her. He was not at all what she had thought he'd be when she asked him to let her leave New Orleans with him. She'd expected him to be self-centered and shallow like many extraordinarily handsome men were. She found that he was indeed self-centered but not selfish. He was consumed with pain at the loss of his love, as shattered as Cordelia herself. Yet he was willing to try to comfort her. He'd opened his heart and arms to her. She discovered that Rene Beaumont was as caring a man as any she'd ever met. He was kind and gentle, more so than she'd believed possible. She hadn't lied when she told Angel that that René was the only thing that had kept her alive and sane since she'd left her husband.
When he had called her from New Orleans explaining Jean's state and that he was bringing his brother to live with them, she'd been happy. She'd been even more so when René had told her of his and Jean's decision to finally engage in a real relationship. Their marriage had been a surprise albeit a pleasant one. Not that she didn't understand it; Jean DuValliere was infinitely claimable. She had been impressed with him when she'd lived at Rue Royale even though she saw little of the crown prince. The past month had increased her respect for him. She was also becoming genuinely fond of him. She'd hope he would bring some happiness to the house. But the last week had been a nightmare again. "I've had about all of it I can stand. You don't mope well, Jean. It's not becoming at all." She hadn't liked seeing the brown-eyed Cajun so hurt by René's actions. Jean had enough problems without René adding to them. Much as she loved René, she wanted to slap him for how he was acting. She moved closer to them and addressed René severely. "Jean's right. You don't need booze." He needed to quit hiding from his problems. And he wasn't the only one. She smiled at Jean. "You just need us."
Jean's other eyebrow joined the first.
"It's time the three of us had a long talk." She folded her arms across her chest. "René, you need to get your shit together." Before he could protest, she continued. "And so do I." She looked at Jean. "I'm through crying. I've thought about it for the past week. I can sit here and cry my life away or I can start living again. I've decided to live." Angel had hurt her beyond her ability to measure but part of the blame was her own. She'd been willfully blind to what was going on around her. If she'd paid attention earlier she might have been able to stop what later occurred or at least have walked away before her heart was completely engaged. She had watched René spiral downward for over a week now and seen herself reflected in pain-filled teal eyes. She'd decided she wasn't going to be that pathetic. And she wasn't going to let René self-destruct either. He'd been there for her and she'd be there for him.
She turned back to René. "When you first brought Jean home, you were better, then you went all Wuthering Heights on me again." She joined the pair and stroked René's cheek. "I don't know what's going on under that perfect hair of yours-- which by the way is so unfair, you're a guy; you don't need perfect hair!-- but you'd better get your head on straight." She glared accusingly at him though the hand on his face was still gentle and soothing. "And right now." She focused on the other brother and smiled. "Looks like I'm not going to have se tse the speech I had prepared for you," she said and held out her hand to him. "Nice to see at least one man in the family has some sense."
"Thank you," Jean said sardonically. He wasn't particularly afraid of Cordelia. In fact, he'd found he liked her a great deal. He took the hand she offered and rubbed his thumb across her knes. es.
Her smile softened. "Well, since you and I have our acts together, you think we can get Hamlet here straightened out?"
Jean smiled back. "You mean the two of us? Together?"
She pulled his fingers to her lips, letting him know exactly what she had in mind. She took René's hand and smiled at him waiting until he smiled back at her. She looked up at Jean. "No. I mean the three of us, together."
~~~~~
Santa Monica, California
Monday 11:53 p.m.
September 10, 2018
Baby was so out of it, so withdrawn she didn't realize Spike was nearby until he knocked on the door of their suite. She looked in horror at her Companion as she sensed her spouse. "What have you done, Jack?" she breathed.
"Saved your life. Or ended mine," he answered and opened the door. "Come in, Spike," he said ignoring her glare.
Spike inclined his head sharply as he stepped across the threshold. "Thanks for the call." He looked Jack up and down. A smirk appeared. "You're dressing like René these days," Spike said.
Jack bristled. "René has two pounds of silver on his boots. His shirts are silk, loud, and he wears them half-unbuttoned so he can show off that body he's so damned proud of. His jeans are so tight it's a wonder he can walk. He wears more jewelry than I own. He's an affront to decently dressed men everywhere." He folded his arms and glared at the Master of New Orleans ignoring the fact that Spike's dress sense was nearly as outrageous as René's. "I am not dressing like him."
Spike laughed and stated to retort when he saw his consort. Whatever he'd been about to say fled his mind. He brushed past Jack. "Pet." He stared down at her, all his well-rehearsed speeches suddenly seeming amazingly inadequate. He dropped down so he was on her level. "I..." There was only one thing burning in his mind. "Why, pet? Why did you leave?" Finding her note had been as bad as anything he could remember. Discovering she'd really left without a word of goodbye had hurt.
Jack moved past them both and went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He wasn't going to leave them alone; they might kill each other. He'd give them what privacy he could but he'd be nearby in case Spike walked out. If that happened, Baby would need him.
She shook her head. "I had to," she whispered. "I wasn't helping anything by staying."
Anger flash through Spike. "And running out on me without a word helped?" He wanted to shake her. He wanted to bang her head against the wall.
"I didn't run out on you," she retorted. "I saw you with that girl and I just knew you didn't need me any more." She set her jaw. "And I can tell by the smell that I was right. You've taken her as your lover."
Spike stood and moved away. He wasn't ashamed of taking Anne as his lover. So why did he feel so awful? He allowed the anger he felt to drown that touch of guilt. "Well, I didn't have anything to stop me, now did I? My wife didn't want me any more." Saying the words hurt. Unwanted. Just like he'd always been.
"I never said that!" Baby countered and clenched her fists. "I never said I didn't want you. I said you needed to be happy." He was being obtuse again. How could he think she actually wanted to leave? Why was he always so blind?
"So you left me so I'd be happy?" Spike glared at her. Perhaps she was still insane. That was the only explanation that made sense. "You broke my heart so I'd be happy?"
"You don't look or smell very heartbroken to me," she snapped. She'd known he was going to take the human woman as his lover. It was what she'd wanted, wasn't it? He'd done what she'd hoped he'd do. Why did it twist her insides?
Jack poured his coffee and turned up the stereo so he didn't have to listen to them argue. For once, he was glad he didn't have vampire hearing. He sighed. He had a feeling he'd be staying in California for the foreseeable future at this rate. He'd never met two people more determined to make themselves miserable. The stereo didn't completely cover the recriminations and counter-recriminations that flooded the tiny living room. He shook his head. To any half-intelligent outsider it was obvious that they were both completely in love with each other and miserable apart. Why couldn't they see it? Jack wanted to knock their heads together. He listened as the argument escalated. He could read the words beneath each statement. He heard Baby's unspoken plea for Spike to just say he loved and needed her. He heard Spike's cry for Baby to say she still wanted him more than anyone else. Unfortunately, both of them were deaf to what the other was really saying. He rolled his eyes.
Trying to ignore the marriage imploding five feet from him, he tried to find something to focus on and concentrated on the love song on the stereo. He thought a moment and set his cup down on the counter with a click. He looked at the combatants and frowned. "Shut up! Both of you! Just shut up," he ordered.
Baby blinked at him. Spike snarled.
Jack ignored them both and hit repeat on the stereo. "Put your teeth back. Just shut up and listen for a minute." He turned up the volume.
Looking at the pages of my life,
Faded memories of me and you,
Mistakes you know I've made a few.
I took some shots and fell from time to time.
Baby, you were there to pull me through.
We've been around the block a time or two.
I'm gonna lay it on the line.
Ask me how we've come this far.
The answer's written in my eyes.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've paid some dues, baby.
We've been to hell and back again.
Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been co to to
I'm all about lovin' you.
You can take this world away.
You're everything I am.
Just read the lines upon my face.
I'm all about lovin' you.
Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new
That takes me higher than before and makes me want you more.
I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time.
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
All about lovin' you.
He watched their faces as the song played out and grinned. "Now, can either of you tell me that isn't the pair of you?" They didn't say anything but he was fine with that. "Spike, do you wan div divorce Baby and marry this new girl?"
"No!" Spike said instantly. "I would never..."
"Good," Jack interrupted. "Baby? Do you want to divorce Spike? Do you want to be free?"
"No!" She ws ems emphatic as Spike.
"Good." Jack didn't give her a chance to say anything else. "So neither one of you want to end your marriage. So far, so good." He thought a moment. "Baby, you say you left so Spike could be happy. Spike, are you happy without Baby?"
"No," Spike said forcefully and faced his consort. "I'm miserable without her."
Jack nodded and thought back over the last month. "Well, I can vouch for the fact that she's miserable without you." He looked at his mistress. "Your plan didn't work. He's not happy; you're not happy. Time to rethink the plan. Sounds like it's time to go home to me." He held his hand up. "I know. You're afraid too much has happened. That love isn't enough to see the two of you through. It won't be if you two don't stop acting like idiots. But it's a hell of a good start. I think you two need to admit up front that you can't stand being apart. It's true isn't it?"
Spike looked at Jack with new eyes. He'd no idea the puppy was so insightful. "Yeah, it's true. I can't stand that house without her in it."
The look on Baby's face was everything Jack could have hoped for. "Good. Tell her about it."
Spike complied. He decided to be completely honest. He remembered a time when he didn't stop to think about how something would sound before he said it to Baby. "Anne helps, but she isn't you. The house is empty without you. I hate it."
Jack nodded. "Baby, do you like it here? Am I enough? I'm not, am I? I'm not him." The soft look in his green eyes told her that he didn't mind.
"No," she answered. "You've been wonderful, Jack, but you're right. You're not Spike."
milemiled and placed a hand on Baby's cheek. "I know that. It doesn't bother me. But seeing you waste away does." He focused on Spike. "She's a wreck. Has been for the last month. She gets worse each day. I'm betting you do, too." He smiled. "You need to talk. Not argue. Talk." He looked down at his lover. "Tell him how you really feel. Talk. You told me that the two of you use to talk about everything. Well, do that again for a change." He picked up his jacket. "I'm going for a walk." He left without another word.
Spike gazed at the door. "He's not what I expected."
Baby smiled softly. "He's something else, that's for sure." She looked up him. "He's right. We don't talk any more."
Spike nodded. "I've missed that. More than anything, I miss talking to you." He came and sat down beside her. "I think of something or something happens and I turn to tell you about it and ... I don't know what happens. It just dot cot come out." He took her hand. "I saw a street musician yesterday and I thought of how much he'd have amused you. I wanted to tell you about him but..."
"But I wasn't there," she said sorrowfully.
"No, well, yes." He shook his head. "That's not the point. Even if you'd been there I don't think I would have. I can't seem to think of the words any more."
She looked down at their hands. It looked so right, his hand holding hers. "Why? You've never had trouble with words. You're better with words than any one I know."
"Am I?" he asked. "What can I tell you any more? What can I say that would interest you since..." he stopped abruptly.
"Since what, Spike? What changed?" She squeezed his fingers. "What did I do to make you hate me? I know there's René but things had gone bad long before that. I just wish I knew what I did."
Heked ked down at their hands as well. His wedding bands glittered on her finger. That had never changed. Whatever body she wore, his rings were always on her finger. Jack's song played over; he'd left it on repeat. "You didn't need me any more," he said softly.
She looked at him in shock. She reached out and tilted his head up. "I'll always need you," she said. "Look at me, Spike." He looked the way he did in Sunnydale, the way he'd looked in Mexico. Buffy hadsed sed that look and Baby had hated her for. Now Baby herself was the one causing it because he thought she no longer needed him. She smiled sadly. "I need you so much; I'm dying without you. You're what keeps me alive."
A muscle in his jaw jumped uncontrollably. He'd lived in constant fear for four years of her leaving and as he feared it had happened. Now he realized that he'd brought it one'd e'd been so afraid she'd leave he began pushing her away. And she'd finally run. He took in everything about her and realized the truth of her words. She was fading away. For lack of his attention. Not René, not Jack, not Angel. Him. She needed him. She didn't necessarily need him to protect her or care for her but she desperately needed his attention. The band that had been squeezing his heart for years loosened and fell away. She might not need his strength she she needed his time and his love. And he needed her just as desperately. Her warmth no longer lay in her body, it lay in her eyes. The humanity he craved was still there, she just no longer wore it on the surface. She was his wife still. She was still the woman he fell in love with.
Something she hadn't seen in a long time shown from his face. He kissed her hand and smiled at her. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I want to tell you about a street musician I saw yesterday," he began. "And then I want tell you about how silly Beau's newest child is. And then I want to tell you how much I love you."
Jack's song continued to play and Spike decided to take the singer's advice.
Through it all you're always my best friend.
For all the words I didn't say and all the things I didn't do
Tonight I'm gonna find a way.
She smiled and tears sprang into her eyes. "Please. I want to hear about all of that. I want to hear anything you want to tell me."
He smiled back. "I want to tell you everything. I've got four years of things I want to tell you." He leaned over her, unable any longer to remain at even the smallest distance from her. He had to hold her again. "Tell me I'll have the chance to do that. Tell me you'll come home."
She looked up into eyes she searched the skies for each morning. She caressed one perfectly chiseled cheek. "You're holding me, aren't you? I am home."
When I look at what my life's been comin' to
I'm all about lovin' you.
His lips found hers as the song played its ending and began again.
Fini
~~~~~
Author's notes:
"All About Loving You" by Jon Bon Jovi used without permission but with much love and respect for an amazing talent.
Quotes from "Legacy" by Esme used with permission and deep gratitude. The character of Anne belongs to Esme and I am grateful both for permission to use her and for the wonderful addition both Anne and Esme make to the BabyVerse.
Many thanks to Kai and Ten for the extensive beta work.
Sunrise and Sunset times provided by the United States Naval Observatory web site at http://aa.usno.navy.mil/ . (What? You thought I made it up??)