Violins And Heartstrings - Chapter 6

But tomorrow never came. Six years of tomorrows passed him by and William changed dramatically.

Spike Thornton sat in his limousine next to his girlfriend, Drusilla. He had spent every day of the past six years thinking about Buffy Summers and now it was time to give up the fight--fate was a cruel bitch and she stole his only love.

The memory of the day after he'd made love to Buffy was still painful, even after such a long time apart. He'd gone to her house to find the Desoto still half dirty and he'd smiled as he'd walked up her garden path. As he'd knocked on the door he'd been greeted by her mother, Joyce, she was nice enough and they'd always seemed to get along. She told him that Buffy wasn't around; her father had called her to New York on an urgent matter. Williams brain had been too addled to make any sense of what she was saying to him, all he could make out was that his angel was gone, she'd left him the day after they'd finally acted on their feelings and that it was something to do with college. He'd thanked her mum and she'd said to him that Buffy had wanted him to have her car. William had taken the keys and smiled briefly before making his way back to his own house and locking himself in his bedroom. At first, he'd hated her, but after countless hours of staring blankly at the photographs of her that he had he realised the saying was true--love overcomes all thing. In that instant, he'd decided to find her.

Six years later and some part of him was still looking.

Spike heard an all too familiar song on the radio as the driver lowered the little window that intersected the car.

I try to love someone else
And every day I try to be true
It only makes me feel worse
Cause all I do is think about you
And there's nothing I can do

I can't get you out of my thoughts
Or out of my head and I know I'm in love with you baby
Everything I do, leads me back to you
You got to know that you're driving me crazy

Yeah, fate was a cruel bitch all right. Spike thought to himself. He turned his steely eyes on the driver as he ran his trembling fingers through his platinum blond locks.

"Almost there, Mr Thornton." The driver leant his head backwards and called out to him.

Spike sighed. "Thanks."

"My Spike is nervous, why?" Drusilla watched him closely as he touched his scar on his left eyebrow.

"Not nervous, love. Just New York, I don't like it." He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tight.

"Because it stole from you?"

For a moment Spike actually felt like she'd read his mind, Drusilla had a strange habit of knowing what he was thinking at all times.

"No. Didn't steal, bloody well took, swiped it and crushed me." He clenched his fist as an example of his being crushed.

"Poor Spike. Will a kiss make it better?" Drusilla leant towards him and he turned his face away from her.

"Not now, Dru, pet. Need to concentrate on the show."

It was big night for Spike, he was appearing on a national late night entertainment show and was to be talking about his newest box office smash and his upcoming movie--the movie he was in New York to film. As far as he knew it, he was on for most of the night and then the second guest was some musician.

As they pulled into the studios, Spike helped Drusilla out of the car and waved at the crowds of paparazzi before walking her into the building. Recently Drusilla's strange way of talking had been drawing too much attention and Spike was beginning to tire of the way she clung to him--or maybe it was just being back in New York, this place always made him jumpy.


Half way through the show and he was back stage again smoking a cigarette and trying to ignore Drusilla. She was fluttering about him with tales of the green room and he wished she would be quiet for five minutes and let him gather his thoughts. He stubbed the cigarette out and frowned.

"Has anyone seen the second guest? She's on in ten." The runner popped his head into the green room just as Spike walked out into the hall.

The room murmured but no one replied. Out in the hall there was a large thump and Drusilla looked down at the blonde mess by her feet. Spike chuckled.

"Believe I've found your little ray of sunshine, my petal." Drusilla purred at the runner and he backed away slightly.

"Stupid heels." The blonde mess on the floor cursed as she pulled the offending footwear off her feet, her hair covering her face.

Spike bent down to offer assistance.

"You okay?" He frowned at her and she seemed to ignore him.

"Oh god!" She scrambled across the floor to the violin case, opening it up she pulled out her instrument and ran her fingers over it as she murmured. "It's okay, it's okay…"

"It's fine, you okay?" Spike offered her his hand and she put her violin away before taking it and standing up, flicking her hair from her face.

"No, I'm not okay. Think I'm going to be sick. These nerves are killing me." Buffy sighed out and held her stomach for emphasis.

"5 minutes miss." The runner smiled at her.

"Oh god. I think I'm going to hyperventilate."

"Just relax. You'll do great." Spike handed her the shoes and smiled at her while Drusilla clung to his arm with jealousy invading her eyes.

"I don't think I can." Buffy finally looked up at him and blinked. It can't be.

"Knock 'em dead, sweetheart." Spike sucked his cheeks into a wide smile and it hit Buffy hard.

She knew those eyes and that voice, those cheekbones and that smile. She choked on the memories of the time they had spent together and her nerves soared out of control. He didn't recognise her and she couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"We're coming out of the segment in two, we need you back on stage Mr Thornton."

Spike nodded and gave a smile to Buffy as he left. Drusilla scowled at her as she slinked into the green room and Buffy felt her stomach flip. He didn't recognise me, have I changed that much in six years?

She looked at her reflection in the glass of a picture on the wall and sighed.

"Miss Summers, this way please."


Standing in the dark on stage, Buffy kept her eyes fixed on him where he sat talking to the host. They were chatting about classical music and William said how he was raised on it and fell for a girl at school because of it. Buffy felt her heart leap into her mouth as the host laughed and introduced her.

As the spotlight beamed down on the girl Spike kept his eyes facing away from her, he'd seen too many classical musicians in his time and they'd never met up to his bench mark--they were never as good as Buffy. But as the first notes of Vivaldi's 'Summer' reached his ears, Spike turned slowly and tried to keep his cool under the scrutiny of the television cameras.

"She isn't supposed to be playing that." The host whispered to him.

"Bloody hell." Spike whispered as he looked at her.

She had her eyes closed as she let the music wash over her, feeling it in every molecule in her body. The spotlight beamed down on her and he knew it was her, she looked like she had in the music room that day, but she'd changed now. Spike looked harder at her, she was no longer the cherub cheeked teenager he'd fallen in love with, she was woman shaped now, slimmer and more toned, her lips playing into a smile as she let herself drift away with her music.

As she finished her piece, Buffy let her eyes open and she looked directly at him. Spike got that all too familiar ache in his ribcage again like she was playing directly on his heartstrings. The audience applauded her and she bowed before walking over to where he sat and sitting down next to him on the couch.

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