Roll Me Away
By: Valkyrie
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary/Disclaimer: See Part one.
In the week since she had been home, Buffy hadn’t been lazy. Thanks to Willow and Xander, she was now the newest waitress at The Bronze. She worked Thursday through Sunday and even if it killed her weekends for the foreseeable future, the money was good. And it wasn’t all bad, Xander was one of three bartenders and Willow and two other girls waited tables with Buffy. Thursday had been her first night and she had spent half of it following Willow around and learning the way things were run and then she had been given her own section. Buffy had left last night with nearly a hundred dollars in tips and two very sore feet. Thursday night was college night, and the place had been packed with UC Sunnydale students. College kids were notorious beer drinkers and low tippers. Willow had been amazed Buffy had even made that much. Willow had only counted out at sixty.
Now on Friday, Buffy was learning that college night was nothing. Friday night, with live music and no cover, was killing her and it was only eleven. She smiled as she set down another round of drinks for a table and deftly avoided the pinching fingers of one of the guys as she moved away. She wound her way through the crowd and back to the bar.
“Xander!” She hollered over the music to get his attention as she set her tray on the bar to the side of the waitress station. When he glanced her way, she mouthed “Break,” and he nodded. Gathering up her money, she stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans and headed for the back hall near the stage. She passed Willow on the way and asked her to keep an eye on her section before ducking down the hall and out the back door.
She had been doing good the past week, not letting on to her mother or her friends just how hard the transition to being back home really was. They were so happy she had come back, that she didn’t want to hurt them by telling them how unsure of herself she was. She wasn’t comfortable here…at least not at the moment. It was weird to know that she didn’t have to pick up stakes and move on. But if she was honest with herself, the hardest part of being here in Sunnydale was how much she missed Spike. It scared her that after only knowing him for, what had it been? Ten days? God, such a short time and yet he had managed to entrench himself in her head and heart and now she felt as if she was missing some vital part of herself. Even here, at The Bronze, she would eye the pool tables looking for him. And when she caught herself doing it, she had to force herself to stop. A couple of times during the week, she had seen someone with his walk, or a similar jacket, or white-blonde hair and it was a struggle to hold in the tears.
She spent her time before sleeping wondering where he was or what he was doing. Did he hate her? Did he miss her? Did he think about her at all? She wished she could just wave a magic wand and take herself back to that hour before she had left him. She might not have changed the ending, but she would have handled it better. Oh, who was she kidding? If she had it all to do over again she still would have bolted. That was just her. Scared of herself, scared of relationships, and scared of being left so she left first. It didn’t matter anyhow…she had come home and he was somewhere out there… somewhere that wasn’t here.
“Buffy?” Willow stuck her head out the door. “Table three is asking for another pitcher of ‘ritas.”
“OK, Wills,” Buffy rolled her head on her shoulders and stretched out her arms. “Right behind ya.”
“You okay, Buff?” Willow eyed her friend as they made their way back to the floor. She knew there was something wrong that Buffy was not telling her, but the blonde refused to share. “You’ve seemed sorta scattered tonight.”
Buffy gave her a half smile, “Yeah Will, I’m fine. Just tired and my feet are killing me. I really gotta get some shoes with lower heels. Maybe some sneakers? That’s what I wore when I waitressed before. Anything’s better than these torture devices I’ve got now.”
“Understood,” Willow laughed as they picked up their trays and Xander sat her table’s pitcher in front of them. “I learned in less than a night that as cool as they look, heels are meant only for those people who get to sit while they work. Want to go to the mall tomorrow and see what we can find?”
“Mall sounds good. I need some clothes, too. Nothing in my closet fits any more,” Buffy answered, glad that Willow had accepted her answer. She smiled at the red head and took off to deliver her order.
“She still keeping quiet about what’s buggin’ her?” Xander asked as Willow loaded her tray with another round of drinks.
“Yeah,” Willow sighed. “I’m beginning to think she’s really not happy here. Maybe she shouldn’t have come back.”
“What? No! Willow, this is Buffy’s home. She is supposed to be here with us, and her mom…she just needs to adjust. She’ll be fine,” Xander nodded his head as if trying to make her agree.
“I know she belongs here, Xan, but I don’t think she knows that. She was gone for two years,” Willow hefted her tray, eyes following Buffy as she moved through the crowd. “She’s used to being alone.”
* * * *
Spike eyed the quaint town of Sunnydale from the window as the bus passed through the center of downtown and turned towards the dockside area where the bus station was. What was a four-hour drive from L.A. was actually a ten-hour bus trip, due to stops and Spike was ready to disembark and stretch his legs. As he hefted his bag, he looked at the clock on the depot wall. Eleven o’clock…he could get a room, food and sleep and start looking for Buffy in the morning. Or, he could say screw the room and food, find the nearest bar and drink himself under the table until the lingering pain in his abdomen dissipated and look for Buffy after the hangover wore off. He looked around him and caught a glimpse of people near a warehouse, and the pumping music that drifted his way every time the door opened. A bar…he sighed, “Right then, pissed it is.”
The doorman waved through Spike without asking for an I.D. and he stopped just inside the door and eyed the place. Crowded with girls trying to be Britney Spears and guys who all looked like they stepped off the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, it was definitely not Spike’s type of place. He rolled his eyes and made his way past the pool tables and a bar and found himself a table under the balcony. A cute red head took his order and he tipped her well enough to make sure she kept the alcohol flowing, before he sat back and tried to tune out the band that was torturing “Brown-Eyed Girl.” Why did every band feel it was mandatory to play a cover of what was probably the worst Van Morrison song in creation? Spike pondered this as he signaled the red head for another beer. The least they could do is pick one of the good ones…like “Into the Mystic,” or hell, even “Domino” would be better than this drivel. But then again, their idea of good music probably didn’t contain more than three chords and a single note bass line.
Willow gave her newest customer his beer and checked a few other tables before taking a rest against the wall by the waitress station. She rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Friday nights sucked big time…too damn busy for four waitresses. She heard someone calling her name and opened her eyes to see the big boss, Joey, signaling her over towards the stairs. With a sigh, she pushed off the wall and walked over.
“Willow,” Joey said when she got near enough. “Cassie twisted her ankle upstairs and I’m sending her home. I want you to take the upstairs and split your section between Sarah and Buffy.”
“Are you sure? Upstairs is less crowded, maybe Buffy should take that…she’s still new,” Willow asked.
“New yes, but she has experience. She’s doing fine,” Joey gestured toward the floor. “Just split your section right down the middle. Close what tabs you have and let them open new ones with the girls. I’ve already handled Cassie’s tabs upstairs. Whenever you’re done go on up.”
Willow nodded and turned away to do that, catching Buffy and Sarah on the way. Buffy groaned, “Four more tables? God…I think I’m gonna collapse. That makes twelve, no thirteen…most of ‘em with at least four people. I better make major dough, Wills.”
“It sucks I know…but hey, bright side! One of your new tables only has one guy…cute, too. And he already tipped me pretty well, so you might make some money off of him,” Willow tried to sound optimistic, but knew that sometimes the more tables you had, the less money was made. More tables meant longer time between service and that could cut into the tips.
Buffy shrugged, “Guess there’s not much of a choice either way. This good tipper, what’s he drinkin’?”
“Guinness. He should be ready for another one in a few…I get the feeling he’s drinking with a purpose.”
“Great,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “If he gets wasted…you’re helping me deal with him.”
“Deal,” Willow laughed. “See ya later…Oh! Are you walking or riding tonight?”
“Definitely riding!” The blonde replied with a wince. “Don’t think my feet could handle the walk home.” She waved Willow off and served a table with a couple of drunk frat boys. She scanned her tables to see if any looked ready for more as she emptied a few ashtrays and cleared some glasses. When that was done, she remembered Willow’s Guinness drinker and called one up from Xander.
Beer on tray and smile on face, she maneuvered her way through the tables, scanning for the lone customer. There was only one table with a single person sitting at it and Buffy groaned when she saw the blonde hair and black jacket. Just what she needed, a Spike look-a-like. She sucked in a breath and moved around the beam next to his table. Without looking up, she set the bottle down. Reaching to empty his ashtray and pick up the empty, she spoke over the music, “I’m Buffy. Your other waitress had to switch sections, so if you need anything just holler, okay?” Taking another deep breath before looking into another face that wasn’t his, she raised her eyes…and the empty bottle slid out of nerveless fingers to shatter at her feet.
“Oh. My. God…”