Title:  Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
           snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks!
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he falls in love with
shortly before leaving for a nationwide
tour.




Part Forty-one.....


Hi, baby.....bet you didn't expect to be hearing from me
quite so soon, did you?   Well, I wrote this last night and
slipped it into your bag this morning while you were
brushing your teeth and doing all those other things you do
that makes you smell so good all the time.

See, I couldn't sleep last night. Not that you didn't tire me
out, because you always do....and I always love it.  But
I just couldn't seem to close my eyes.

 All I wanted to do was lie next to you and watch you
sleep, and memorize every part of you.

So, I did that for a while, taking you in...breathing you in.  I
needed to do that, luv. I want to imprint you on my brain and
in my memory....everything about you....your face and your
voice, the feel of your hair and your skin....the warmth of your
breath....your touch.

By the time you're reading this, I'll be on my way to Seattle
and wondering what the hell I'm doing....why am I going
in the  wrong direction?

Why aren't I on that plane with you, holding your hand and
telling you that we'll be on the ground soon, and then have
you tell me that that's NOT what you wanted to hear right
after take off....

What am I doing, Buffy?  Why am I moving away from you
when everything inside of me is screaming to move towards
you.  God, this is all starting to feel like the biggest mistake
I've  ever made, going on this tour.

And, baby....how am I going to make it all the way to the
end?  I wish someone could tell me that, because I don't
understand it....and I don't know if I can do it.

Last night, after we made love, you fell asleep with your
body pressed against mine.  That's just the most perfect
feeling in the world, holding you after loving you like that.
The way you give yourself over to me, the way you trust me
to hold you...and keep you warm...and keep you safe...is
everything to me.

You know, baby, I had all the usual expectations that other
people have while growing up. I always thought I knew
what I wanted, and that I'd know it when I found it.

Of course, I wanted to sing. I didn't much care about being
famous or wealthy...although it didn't sound bad...as long
as I could sing, and play, and have people want to hear it.

I figured someday I'd meet the right girl and fall in love,
then do all the usual things...the house, the picket fence,
the kids and maybe a couple of dogs.  And even though
I'd never felt it before, I assumed I'd know love when it came
along.

And then.....there was you. Dropping into my life, making
everything shiny and new.  I knew then....I knew it was here.
The very thing I'd hoped would happen...did, and it's been
even better than anything I could have dreamed of or asked
for.

I'm not sure there's a word for this feeling, but it's not love.
It's  so far beyond that word....so much more...and I don't
ever want to be without it, be without you.  Nothing else will
make me as happy as you do, baby.

Yeah, singing makes me happy, but Buffy....you're the reason
I sing.

It's you, baby.  It'll always be you.

How can I sing now?  How do I get around this pain in my
throat, this huge aching mass of missing you, needing you,
and wanting you?

Jesus, Buffy...I haven't even left you yet and it's killing me.

Knowing that I don't have a choice doesn't make it any
easier.  There are a lot of people depending on me and I
have to go through with it.  Jobs are riding on it, and a
hell of a lot of money...and I don't care, Buffy, I really
don't care.

Is it bad that I don't care?  That all I want to do is turn
around and head for home....just crawl into your arms
and never come out again.

Am I a terrible person for wanting to tell the entire rest of
the world to go to hell?  To leave me alone and let me be
with you for as long as I can, as long as I live and breathe.

Baby, I don't mean to dump all this on you, and I don't
want you to be unhappy or to worry about me.  I'll get along
somehow and then, when this is all over...I'll come home to
you.

After that....well, we're going to have to figure something out
honey, because I can't go through this again. Not ever.

I'll call you every day, baby.  And I'll write to you, too.  And
every time I sing, I'll sing for you...even though you can't hear
it.

God, this is hard.  It really hurts, the thought of being with-
out you.   How can that be after knowing you for such a
short time?

Sweetheart, do you realize that we just met ten days ago?
I feel like we've lived a lifetime in those ten days, don't
you?   How is  it possible to love someone so much after
ten short days?

And how the hell did I get so damn lucky?

To love you, and to have you love me back is a lifetimes
worth of luck. I'll never ask for another thing, because I
already have this beautiful, precious love that I'll cherish
forever.  All because of you, baby.

You're the one, Buffy. You're my light and my life, my
shining star...and I will go down on my knees and thank
God every day for giving you to me.

Don't you forget about me, love. Hold me in your heart,
the way I'll hold you in mine.....

All my love forever,

Spike


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



With her hand trembling a little, Buffy set the letter
down on her kitchen table.

Her own throat was tight with the same pain Spike
had described as her thoughts slid back to their parting
moments at the airport.


*******************************

She hadn't expected him to take her. Rather, she'd
thought he'd say goodbye in the suite and then hand
her over to the limousine driver.

But he'd made arrangements, allowing himself sufficient
time to go along with her, to make sure she got on the
right plane and to beg her not to take more than one of
Willow's motion sickness pills.

Truthfully, Buffy hadn't intended to take any at all. The
fear of a plane crash had been too deeply overshadowed
by the sadness looming in front of her. There was no pill
in the world that could help ease the pain of separation.

They hadn't spoken much on the ride to the airport. She
had no interest in looking out the window, of taking one
last look at San Francisco.

Their hands had stayed tightly clasped together, even when
they became sweaty and sticky from the close contact. Every
so often, he would give hers a gentle squeeze and she would
return the pressure.

Traffic was light, and it hadn't taken long for them to reach
their destination.

Once again, she'd trailed after him through the confusing maze
of corridors, escalators, and moving sidewalks.

Her feet felt as heavy as her heart, and she'd dragged them
along on nothing more than sheer will, forcing them to carry
her to a place she didn't want to go.

She hadn't cried. No matter how badly she'd wanted
to....needed to....she hadn't given in to tears. Things were
bad enough without her turning into a weepy mess.

After checking her in and depositing her luggage on the
conveyor belt, Spike had steered her in the direction of the
departure lounge.  There were surprisingly few travelers,
and they sat together alone, close to the window.

Waiting for her flight to be called had been agonizing.
She'd actually begun to feel like a prisoner waiting to be
escorted  to the gas chamber.  Knowing what was ahead,
and dreading  it, had stretched her last nerve nearly to
its breaking point.

Casting about in her mind for something to say that would
lighten the gloomy pall surrounding them, she had fallen
back on idle small talk.

She'd made her voice sound reasonably cheerful as she'd
said, "It looks like it's going to rain."

Spike had glanced out the window. "Might."

"Maybe they won't be able to take off," she'd added,
only half teasing.

There'd been a long pause, then he had released a
deep sigh. "Planes take off in this all the time. The
pilots are used to it.  Don't worry."

Still keeping a 'stiff upper lip' she'd smiled. "Oh, I'm
not worried. I'm an experienced flyer now."

That comment had drawn a slight smile out of
him. "Yeah, that's you," he'd said. "Little world
traveler, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm. Ready to join the jet set. Spring in Paris.
Winter in Monte Carlo.  Summer in....."

"Summer in where?"

"I don't know.  Where does the jet set GO in the
summer?"

He'd opened his mouth to reply, then a slight 'pop'
from the intercom had startled them, making them
tense up, only relaxing when a tinny sounding voice
had informed them that a non-stop flight to Chicago
was boarding at another gate.

That small scare had banished all their forced levity.

Spike had given in to the need first. Slipping his arm
around her, he'd pulled her out of her chair and into his
lap, wrapping her in an embrace that felt almost
desperate.

Buffy still hadn't allowed herself to cry. She'd leaned
against him, stroking her hand up and down his arm.

His arms had tightened convulsively. "I love you," he'd
whispered.

Her emotions had come dangerously close to spilling
out of her, but she'd kept them firmly in check. "I
love you, too."

"Buffy...."

She'd waited for a count of ten, then prompted him
to continue. "What?"

Gathering his thoughts, he'd tried to speak.

"Tell me,"  she'd coaxed gently.

Spike had shaken his head. "I...I love you,"
he'd said again, unable to articulate anything
else.

He'd been visibly struggling for the things he'd
wanted to say, and it really wasn't like him to
behave that way.

Spike was always so brash and confident, so
certain of himself.  He had a quick wit combined
with a boyish charm, and was never at a loss for
words.

>From the day she'd met him, he'd been a force of
nature; striding into her life and shaking it to its
foundations, telling her exactly what he wanted,
that he expected to get it, and that he wasn't
about to take 'no' for an answer.

Seeing him so helpless in the grip of his emotions
had nearly broken Buffy's heart,  reinforcing her own
resolve to be strong.

"I love you, too."  She cupped his cheek in her hand
and tilted his face, leaning down to kiss him. "You're
mine, you know."

"I know." He had nodded, swallowing hard. "You're
mine."

"Always will be."

There'd been another long moment of silence.

"This is harder than I thought it would be," he had
whispered.

The pain of holding back her tears had made her
head throb.

"Yes," she had agreed. "But I'm still glad I came."

Another jerky nod. "Me, too."

The anguish inside him was becoming evident in his
voice by that time, and Buffy had suddenly wanted
her flight to be called so as not to draw out the misery
any further.

Her own pain, she could deal with...later. But she
couldn't bear seeing his.

Five minutes later, she got her wish.

"I guess that's me," she'd said, climbing off his lap
and bending to pick up her handbag.

"Yeah."  He'd stood up and pulled her into his
arms. "Buffy..."

"I know," she'd murmured, stroking the back of his
head. "Kiss me goodbye, now."

Taking in a ragged breath, he'd captured her mouth
beneath his. Arms tight around her, he'd lifted her clear
off the floor, kissing her with all the fervor of someone
desperate to hold on and never let go.

She'd had to push him away, and he hadn't made it
easy.

His hands had  clutched at her as he'd strained  to get
close once again.  "Wait.." he'd begged. "Just....not
yet...please....Buffy, don't...."

Nearly overwhelmed by what was happening, she'd
disentangled herself and begun to back away,
joining  the line of people waiting to board.

There was a rope on either side, the kind usually seen
in a bank or a movie theater, and he'd followed her
on his side of it, holding on to her hand.

"I'll call you tonight," he'd promised. "And when I
get to Seattle."

"All right."   Her hand had slipped from out of his. "I'll
talk to you then."

"Okay....yes, and I...I love you."  He'd raised his voice
as she'd moved further away. "Baby, I love you. I love
you so much. You...you remember that, okay?  Will
you, Buffy?"

"Yes," she'd said. "I'll remember...and I love you, too!"

She'd thrown him a kiss and then turned to merge with the
other passengers.

"Buffy!" he'd called loudly, making her turn her head to
look at him. "Don't ever stop loving me!"

"Never," she'd promised, waving one more time and then
looking away, not wanting to see him turn and walk
off.

She was biting her lower lip, trying again to hold off the
flood of tears she'd needed to cry, determined not to look
back....but unable to stop herself.

What she'd seen had almost been more than she could
bear.  He'd backed off about fifteen yards and was staring
in her direction.  His chest was rising and falling in deep,
painful looking breaths, and his hand was over his heart,
as though it would shatter apart inside of him should he let
go.

Her own heart had been  thudding in her chest as
she'd turned away.  The people in front of her had
moved forward a few feet and then stopped when the
line stalled for some reason.

"Buffy!  Buffy....wait!"

She'd whirled around, shocked to see him practically
running towards her, bumping into people without a word
of apology.

Buffy had stepped back, allowing the people behind her
to go ahead..

Staying on the outside of the rope, Spike had grabbed her
and pulled her back into his arms, burying his face against
the side of her neck.

"I can't do it," he'd said softly, shaking his head and
burrowing closer. "I can't, Buffy...I can't let you...let
you just leave me. I....I don't want to go anymore. I
don't...I need you..."

She'd wrapped her arms around him, holding him close,
and then had nearly lost all her hard won control when
she'd felt the hot moisture on her skin and realized that
he was......

Pulling away, she'd looked into his eyes...those beautiful
blue eyes that were always so sharp and clear...and
found them wet with tears.

It was more than she could stand. She'd placed her hands
on his cheeks and pulled him down to her. "Spike....I
have to go."

"No," he'd shaken his head, unwilling to accept her
words.

"Yes," she'd insisted. "And you have to go, too."

"I can't."  Another shake of his head. "I can't do it."

"Yes, you can."  She'd brushed her thumbs across his
cheeks, wiping the tears away. "You can."

He'd looked at her, then down at the floor, then back
at her. "How?" he had asked, as though she truly had
the answers. "How can I live without you? Tell me
how....and I'll try."

Sadly, there'd been nothing she could tell him.

She had no idea how.


***********************************


She hadn't cried on the plane. She'd just stared
out the window with dry eyes that didn't really see
anything.

The limousine driver had met her at the gate, fetched
her luggage and then driven her home...and still she
hadn't cried.

Her control stayed with her into the evening. At
seven o'clock she showered and then stretched out
on her bed.

Finally, she gave in to the blessed relief, allowing
it to wash over her, to engulf her.

Hot, scalding tears slipped slowly down her cheeks
and soaked her pillow.

Starting quietly, her sobs rose in intensity when
she realized what was happening. She was crying
too hard to do anything about it other than lie on the
bed, her entire frame shuddering with every wave of
cramps and every rush of blood.



TBC.....
(I kind of thought it suited for  Spike to
be the one to break down. Did I over do it
by letting him cry?)