Chapter Ten
Sure To Fall
He made her stay awake throughout the duration of the night so that she would fall asleep at daybreak. It wasn’t easy, but neither was eradicating twenty years of dedicating nights to rest and days to partying. Even as a slayer, whose life thrived amongst the nocturnal, Buffy’s baser habits were still thoroughly human. So he made her stay awake all night. Another exercise of living as a vampire.
The night was wrought with tension, tentative glances and shy touches. He made no untoward advance, though there were times she caught him looking at her with such yearning that she would swear her heart was beating again.
“Are you staying with me tonight?” she asked as dawn approached, her body begging her for sleep.
His eyes twinkled. “This mornin’, you mean?”
“You know you’re a fascist dictator.”
“Well, not exactly, but I came close to eating one once.” Spike smiled and motioned for her to join them. “Come here, sweetling. Gonna get you ready for bed.”
Buffy just looked at him.
“Not gonna undress you,” he clarified, though the prospect had a veil of dazed lust clouding his vision. “’Less you want me to, of course.”
“I…” Her eyes darted downward, and she could’ve sworn her skin was blazing.
“I wanna make sure your hand’s all healed by tomorrow. I also want you to sleep well.”
“I’ll sleep well if you’re with me.”
The heat burning in his gaze intensified, and she felt her resolve weaken. It was beyond strange, being here with him and inciting this sort of reaction. Wishing he would make the decision for them. Wishing she didn’t have to be the brave one. It was all still so new to her. She felt at times as though this reality had been the one her body had fought to reach for the entirety of her existence. That Spike wasn’t the vampire that the Watcher’s Council and Angel and everyone that had ever tried to control her opinions had made him out to be. That Spike was the one that had been there for her all along.
“Then I’ll be with you,” he promised. “But we’re bandagin’ your hand all the same.”
“I heal fast.”
“Yeh? This’ll make you heal faster.” He gave her a look, crooking a finger. “Come on, luv. I don’ bite.”
Buffy laughed shortly at that and stepped forward. “Yeah.”
“Well, okay, so I do.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Won’ bite you, though.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”
“Is there a list of things you’ll do ‘if I want you to’?”
“Edited an’ alphabetized in my back pocket. Now come here.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being playful or playfully coy. Or if she was reading too much into his words and shouldn’t think of jeopardizing what they had while she didn’t know exactly what he wanted from her. If his interest in her was in friendship only, and his physical reactions were simply what came from having a close friendship with a member of the opposite sex.
Their encounter that morning had her thinking otherwise. They had shared kisses. He’d given her the sweetest orgasm she had ever experienced. She had placed her hand on his cock and touched him in a way that she had never thought to touch anyone. Her experience when it came to such things was abundant in the ever tedious more of the same. Two one-night stands that had taught her that men don’t really care what happens to their bedmates as long as they achieve their own pleasure, and the past few months dating the most boring, unfulfilling sex that made her believe the female orgasm was a myth akin to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.
Angel had been an attentive lover, she had to admit; but the night was shrouded so much in horror and pain that she’d all but forgotten the part where he had taken her innocence. His pleasure was less the expected pun and more the evil their brief night together had unleashed. By the time Parker had talked her into bed, she had all but forgotten what sex felt like.
The afterwards always seemed to be the same. And now she and Riley had been sharing a bed for nearly a year—and her experience with Spike that morning, through nothing more than the feel of his fingers inside her—opened her eyes to the world that she had been denied.
If it ever happened between her and Spike, though, she never wanted it to be simply for the promise of sexual satisfaction.
Though for the warm feelings blossoming through her body, she somehow suspected that if they ever did make love, it would be because she had admitted that her feelings for him were based in something deeper than simple affection.
Spike reached out and tentatively touched her hand, raising her burnt skin to his lips.
Her stomach twisted in knots. It was already deeper than simple affection.
“Let’s wrap this up,” he murmured. “Then we’ll go to bed.”
He was so delicate with her. Her hand was already well mended; Slayer potency combined with her new vampire strength made for even faster healing than before. She felt bandaging her hand was overkill, but the notion that he cared that much warmed her insides.
It wasn’t until they were downstairs and he was settling beside her in the bed that she was struck by a whim of domesticity. Like this could be the way of things for the rest of her life, and she was more than okay with that.
The thought of falling asleep in Spike’s arms every night for her new eternity gave her peace, and filled her with something that she had never before experienced. Something she was hesitant to name, if only for her fear of falling too fast and being cut off too quickly. Of becoming so emotionally attached to him and having none of it returned.
Not in the way she would need it returned. She knew Spike felt something…she just didn’t know what.
If it was anywhere near what she felt.
Spike held his arms open for her, and she settled against his chest, slipping a leg over his. He settled a hand over her hip; the other at her arm, thumb tracing the skin at her shoulder tenderly.
“Goodnight,” she murmured, snuggling against him.
He smiled and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “’Night, sweetheart.”
And they slept.
*~*~*
“Patrolling?”
He nodded. “We’re goin’ out tonight.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it’s one of the things you need to do.”
Buffy drew in a breath. “I…but…what if—”
“We run into your mates?”
She nodded.
“We’ll deal. I won’ let you hurt them, an’ you’re off your bird if you think I’ll let them hurt you.” Spike smiled, throwing open the front door of the crypt. “Come on, Slayer. Time’s a wastin’. Won’ want the Hellmouth to grow into a bleedin’ tourist attraction for the undead, right?”
“I thought it already was one, it being a hellmouth.”
He shrugged sheepishly. “All right, so I don’ want any noisy neighbors. We’re goin’ patrolling.”
“You know,” she said as they stepped into the night, “I remember a time not too long ago that you were angry at me for…what, ‘killing your friends?’”
Spike smirked, fingers lacing through hers and they set through the graveyard. They walked leisurely, as though taking a stroll rather than hunting. “Firs’ of all,” he said, “the only time I used those words was when we were under a spell, an’ that was, what, a year ago?”
“Not quite a year.”
“Still…”
“Hey.” She scowled. “You remembered, too.”
“Yeh, well…” He stopped, frowned, and looked away. Like a little boy who’d been caught gazing at his crush. “Okay, second of all, I don’ have any vamp friends. A few demons I hang around an’ play cards while swiggin’ beers an’ what all. Harmless blokes. Think you’d like one of ‘em.”
“Like him?”
“Well, hopefully not like you like certain others.” A smirk drew across his lips, and he tugged her closer. “He’s not exactly easy on the eyes.”
She smiled shyly. “What makes you think I like certain others?”
“You dated one.”
“So three years ago.”
He arched a brow. “You’re practically livin’ with another.”
“He’s not a demon. Not like the others.”
Spike stared at her hard for a long minute, then shook his head with a smile. “’m a demon, kitten. You can’t ever forget that, right?”
“You don’t act like a demon. Not with me.”
He dropped an ardent kiss across her brow. “You make me wanna be more than I am,” he replied softly. “You’ve put so much faith in me. I don’ ever wanna not deserve it.”
Buffy pulled him to a standstill beside her, turning so that they were eye-to-eye. “Don’t think you don’t, ever,” she said. “No matter what happens…please. I know I didn’t treat you right in the past, but that’s… If you weren’t here, I would have fallen apart. I still don’t know why you’ve been so good to me…but I’m so grateful, Spike. For everything.”
“Hush now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead again. “The past is over. We have forever to right old wrongs.”
She swallowed hard, sure she had heard wrong. “Forever?”
Spike froze, and his eyes ducked away in embarrassment. “I…well…obviously, we’re both gonna be around forever,” he amended quickly. “I’d imagine over the centuries, we’ll run into each other every now an’ then, right? The world’s not as bloody big as some people like to think. What’s that sayin’? ’S a small world after all?”
Buffy fought a grin. He was adorable when he was flustered.
Why on earth had it taken something like death to bring her to him?
“Yeah,” she agreed, squeezing his hand. “The saying.”
He nodded. “Yeh. Well, forever’s another reason we’re out here,” he said. “’F you’re gonna make it forever…so we can run into each other every now an’ then…you’ll have to make sure you satisfy your demon’s need for the three essentials.”
“Three essentials?”
“Blood,” he said, counting off on one hand.
“That one’s obvious. What are the other two?”
Another finger went up. “Violence.”
She nodded. That made sense. For the first few weeks after the chip had been implanted in his head, Spike was morose with a lack of being able to vent his demon’s need for brutality. The only way he had refrained from dusting himself came with the realization that demons didn’t register on the chip’s radar. It had given him a whole new reason to live. It was something that had seemed more for the sake of vanity, and she remembered being disgusted with him at the time, even if a small part of her begrudgingly understood. Yes, she could very well appreciate a vampire’s need for violence.
More over, it wasn’t so far placed from the Slayer’s.
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “What’s the third?”
At that, he looked sheepish. “Sex.”
“Sex?”
“Now, Slayer, I know you know about sex.” He grinned as she flushed and glanced down. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
She stiffened, wide eyes meeting his. “I am?”
“God yes. How can you doubt it?”
“I don’t…” Buffy glanced down, shaking her head. “I don’t…even like this?”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Baby, Drac vamped you, he din’t make you any less than what you are. I’ve always thought it.”
“Always?”
“From that very firs’ moment I saw you. Dancin’ in the Bronze, an’ blissfully unaware of how every bloke within twenty feet would trip over himself jus’ to win a smile.” His eyes twinkled when she glanced up, and the brightness that graced her face won him over completely. “There it is. Jus’ like that. A girl needs to be told she’s gorgeous every day.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re even cuter when you get flustered.”
She shot him a devilish glance. “So are you.”
“I don’ get flustered.”
“Yeah? What was that talk about forever earlier? It’s a small world?”
Spike grinned, reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. “That wasn’ gettin’ flustered,” he retorted. “That was wishful thinkin’.”
“Wishful?”
“We have patrollin’ to do.”
“You’re just going to keep avoiding this, aren’t you?”
He nodded, grin broadening. “Yeh. Till I’m sure I won’ get staked.”
Buffy frowned and tightened her grip on his hand as they started walking again. “I won’t stake you, Spike. Never.”
“Never say never.”
“I won’t.”
“Never’s a long time, you know.”
“Are you trying to talk me into staking you?” She shook her head when he shot her a wry, amused glance. “It won’t happen. You…I don’t even know how to describe what you’ve done for me in just the past couple days. I feel so…God, I can’t imagine how I went through life without feeling like this.”
He nodded pensively. “Know how you feel, pet.”
“I know you do.”
“Still don’ know why you din’t go to Peaches.”
“Still don’t know why you didn’t boot me the minute you saw me in your crypt.” She held up a hand as his eyes flashed his objection. “And don’t give me that ‘you already know’ crap. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” He was grinning like an idiot. “Din’t take you long to rekindle with your sassy self there, did it?”
“Would’ve taken longer—”
“—’f it wasn’ for me,” he finished for her. “’m not the only one that’s been a broken record, sweetling.”
“Yeah, well…you’re…yeah.” She glanced down. “Sorry about that.”
“Sorry?”
“For being sassy.”
Spike rolled his eyes and tugged her to another standstill. “Buffy,” he said shortly, “I want you to be you. You’re not yourself ‘f you’re not a bit bitchy every now an’ then.”
“So it’s bitchy now? What happened to sassy?”
He smiled. “Case in point.”
She opened her mouth to retort, then stopped when she realized she would be proving his words all the more.
“See?” he murmured. “I want you to be you. All bloody sides.”
“When I’m bitchy, I usually hit you.”
“Well, I don’ particularly want to get back to that phase of our relationship, but if it makes you feel better—”
She shook her head. “No. Please. No.”
“Too temptin’?”
“Spike…I don’t…I’m not the girl I was then. I don’t want to be her. I don’t like her. She…” Buffy’s eyes hazed with tears for no reason whatsoever, and she found herself growing irritated at her own inability of expression. How could she tell him what she felt if she didn’t know, herself? He made her forget so many things without even trying. He gave her peace; he gave her back the world. He gave her what she needed, and he did so seemingly with no thought for his own welfare. “The girl I was then…I’m…I’m so torn.”
“I know.”
“I can’t…what I know now…when you’re not with me, and I’m thinking about the girl I was, I find myself hating her so much. She didn’t know anything.” She shook her head again. “She thought she did. She thought…”
“There, there, now,” Spike murmured, drawing her close. She relaxed as her head found his shoulder, his arms coming around her. “Din’t mean to upset you, luv. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t. This was…” Buffy laughed humorlessly and pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “You…I felt normal for the first time just a few minutes ago. Really, really normal. But I…I don’t like that form of normal anymore. It’s familiar but…I’m not nice when I’m in normal. Not to you.”
He smiled. “Sometimes I don’ deserve it.”
She released a deep breath, but didn’t wince. That one didn’t hurt. Her breaths hadn’t been hurting as much since the day before. Since she wrapped herself in Spike’s arms and pretended to watch the television while the day aged around them. “I want a new normal,” she said a minute later.
“We’ll get you there, pet. It jus’ takes a while.”
“I want…I don’t want you to…I want you to be a part of the new normal.”
There was a beat at that, and rich emotion flooded his eyes. Awe, affection, and tenderness that she was coming to adore. Like he was on the brink of overflowing with this feeling he had for her, and would wash her over with his warmth.
“I can do that,” he promised fervently.
There. There it was. A loose definition of this wonderful thing they had. Something to build on. Something to aspire to. A future filled with a new form of ordinary. Where the predictability was still the unpredictability, but on a whole new level.
She wanted him to be a part of that. And he wanted it, too.
There was a definition.
Spike smiled, gripped her hand tighter, and they continued walking.
The first steps into the new normal.
With him.
To be continued in Chapter Eleven: The Farther One Travels…
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