Facing The Music

Written by: Guardian Angel



Summary: Buffy takes a moment to reflect at the very end of “Once More, With Feeling,” does contain spoilers.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Author’s Notes: Ok, so as most of you probably already know, I wrote Making Amends before I wrote this. MA was meant to be a single, stand-alone story… Until I wrote this piece, and started thinking (that should be your first clue… me? Thinking? My sister’s probably laughing her ass off as I speak… Trust Jen to make fun of me! *grin*) that maybe there was a way to tie these two stories together, and turn them into a series. So, I did. There’s five parts to the story, the first four are already done, and the fifth is started. Unfortunately, with finals and winter break coming up next week (AHHH!) I may not get the fifth part done anytime soon… But at least I’ve started it! ;-) Anyway, I think that all of the stories (or at least almost all of them) can stand alone and make sense as an individual story, but I also think you’ll get more out of it if you read the whole series, in order. Hopefully, the next two parts (and possibly the fourth, if I get it revised anytime soon) will be out within the next week. J Enjoy!
Thanks: Many thanks to my betas, Jen, Sheri, Cai, and Ana. You’re the best ladies!
Dedication: To Ryan, who’s always there when I need someone to lean on, and who makes me happier than I could know. Everyone should be so lucky as to have a Ryan in their life. I love you Ry!
Feedback: Feed back is, as always, greatly appreciated, buffyafterdark@yahoo.com





Part 1 ~ Through The Looking Glass


He’s trying to get rid of me. Again. When did this happen? Normally he’s always there when I turn around, popping up out of nowhere, intent on annoying the hell out of me when I’m working.

Not that his presence hasn’t been handy a time or two during patrol, but…still.

Now all of a sudden, he’s constantly trying to make me leave. Why?

And better yet, why do I care? Isn’t that what I wanted? For him to leave me alone, to leave me in peace. To “let me rest in peace,” as he put it.

Yet for some reason, it hurts. The distant look on his face, the helpless frustration in his voice as he tells me to go back inside and get my “kumbaya-yas out.” As if I were a child bucking the system, ditching the “big group sing-along.”

When did I start to care this much about him, about his feelings? When did he gain the power to hurt me…or for me to care that I could hurt him?

When did I come to regard him as more than just a meddlesome, annoying vampire, to start seeing him as a man? I can’t even remember the last time I actually called him a vampire, either out loud or in my head. Now he’s simply a man who has useful connections to the demon underworld…and considering my line of work, what’s so weird about that?

I wonder if he realizes that; if he knows that I stopped viewing him as a vampire long ago.

So what do I tell him about why I’m here?

“I don’t want to.”

I don’t tell him that I felt compelled to follow him, that the sight of him walking out the door, alone- he’s always alone- made my heart ache. Made me give into this insane impulse to go after him, to try to cheer him up.

After all, he did save me. Again. Am I becoming dependent on him? Relying too heavily on his steady presence to rescue me if I’m in over my head? Any other Slayer would tell you that to need someone in this job is suicide. After all, what do we do when that someone fails to show in time? Die.

In the end, we always die. Isn’t that just a fact of life?

Those we rely on always eventually fail us, and we fight the battle we can’t win- the battle with our own mortality. Eventually, every Slayer dies… sometimes a painful death, sometimes an instant one. But always in the line of duty.

So in the end, isn’t it better to simply rely on myself? That way, there won’t be that disappointment when my friends fail me that one fateful time…

And yet I still find myself leaning on this one man, more than any other. Why?

It used to be that if I had a problem, I’d go to Willow. Or Xander, or Giles. Now I go to Spike. Why?

Why does it feel so right to spill my soul to him? Was he right? Is it just because I don’t think my friends could deal, and it doesn’t seem real if I tell him?

Or is it because he always seems to be there when I need a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen? I’m starting to think that it’s a little bit of both… part his persistence, part my growing separation from my other friends.

My other friends? Wait a minute, when did I start to consider Spike to be a friend?

And yet, somehow I can’t deny that he is. I don’t know how, but over the past few months, maybe even longer, he has become my friend… I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t at least admit that.

But is there anything more than friendship to this? I must admit, I’ve always found him sexy. I think it’s the chiseled cheekbones and roguish bad-boy attitude, coupled with the fact that beneath the rough exterior, I know he cares more than he lets on.

But is it more than attraction?

And if it is, don’t I owe it to myself to try this, to explore these feelings and try to figure out what’s going on? Life’s so short as it is, especially in my line of work… shouldn’t I be allowed to have whatever pleasure, whatever happiness I can find?

Maybe that’s why I’m here. To grab whatever fleeting chance of happiness that I can.

“The day you suss out what you do want, there’ll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones.”

He sounds so sad, so frustrated… so tired. As if he’s given up on me, tired of making the effort.

He doesn’t think I can make up my mind. Why does that hurt so much?

And yet I’m finally starting to think I do know what I want… I’m just scared to admit it. I’ve wanted before, I’ve needed before, and in the end, I always end up hurt. Do I really want to risk my heart again? To a vampire, no less?

With Angel, it was different somehow. His soul made him seem more human, like a normal man trapped in a vampire’s body. It was easy to love him, to trust him with my heart.

Somehow, I know it will never be easy to love the man standing in front of me, looking so lost.

Am I up to the challenge? Or in the end, will it break me, as no other has managed to do?

How is it even possible for a soulless vampire to know love? I’ve always felt that love doesn’t come from the heart, but from the soul. After all, the heart is just an organ, designed to pump blood throughout our bodies…a powerful irrigation system, in effect. Despite all the lore and romanticism that surrounds the “heart,” I’ve never believed that is where love comes from. No, love comes from our soul, from that intangible thing that is the very essence of each person, the part that makes us unique.

And yet I cannot deny that Spike does indeed love me. I never could.

So how is that possible, if he does not have a soul? Have I been wrong all this time?

And, even more terrifying, if I give my heart to him, what happens when the chip is removed from his brain? When he finds that he can kill again without pain, that he can feed on the living once more? Will he revert, as Angel did, and turn into a savage beast once more? I honestly don’t know if I could survive that… It did too much damage the first time; my heart’s more fragile than it used to be.

I always thought that the heart was supposed to become stronger with each trial, with each tribulation. Guess I was wrong. Again.

But still, I’m drawn to him. I’m getting damn tired of fighting it, too. Ever since they brought me back, it’s like I’ve been dead inside.

The only one who’s been able to make me feel anything, anything noteworthy at all, is this man. Shouldn’t that tell me something? Maybe… maybe it’s time for me to stop being a chicken, and give in to my desires. Maybe I should finally take what I want.

Maybe I’m finally ready to take a chance on life once more.

He won’t let me speak; he rushes to interrupt me when I try to tell him how I feel. He says that I don’t have to say anything.

He’s wrong. I do need to say something… so how do I make my feelings clear to him if he won’t let me talk?

How do I reach him?

He tried to reach me through a song. Maybe, just maybe…

“I touch the fire and it freezes me.”

“I died…”

Yes. That’s what I wanted… I think he realizes what I’m trying to say. Why have I never been good with words?

“I look into it and it’s black.”

“…so many years ago.”

“This isn’t real,”

“You make me feel…”

“…but I just want to feel…”

And as his lips finally touch mine, something changes.

Suddenly, I can feel again.

And it feels exquisite.


~ ~ ~ ~



Part 2 ~ Caught In The Fire


Hmph. Where do we go from here indeed? Bloody morons, thinking singin’ can solve all their problems.

If only… But no. She obviously didn’t give a damn when I sang my heart out to her, so why should it make a bit of difference for them, either?

The only good part of the evening is that the cat’s out of the bag. Finally. Maybe one of her friends can jolt her out of her ice palace, because I bloody well can’t. Haven’t I tried, time after time?

There used to be times when I would miss the sun, when I would ponder the thought of stepping outside to watch one last sunrise, even as it killed me. Granted, those times were few and far between, and usually outweighed by the fun of a good fight, but every once in awhile, doubt about this existence I lead would start to cloud my brain for a few moments. Until I met Buffy, that is. Suddenly the sun wasn’t so important, and I began to enjoy the night again. She’d come into my crypt and it would seem to light up from within, from the light that was Buffy.

But now that’s gone. Instead of light, there’s only darkness. She doesn’t seem to care about anything. I thought I could reach her… Guess that shows what a clueless bugger I am, eh?

Xander was right, seeing her alive again was the happiest moment of my existence. Watching her walk down those stairs, realizing that it wasn’t the Buffybot… They think they know how much that meant to me. But they don’t, they couldn’t.

She’s the only reason I’m still here, the only reason I didn’t give up and stake myself when they put this bloody chip in my head. After all, what’s the fun of being a vampire if I can’t bloody well hurt people? Sure, I can kick the shit out of demons, but that isn’t half as fun as torturing humans… After awhile it gets rather old being labeled a traitor by my own kind! She’s the only thing that makes my life worth living now… And what’s more, she makes me not care about the chip in my brain, because even if it wasn’t there, I wouldn’t kill. How could I? That would put me on the same level as all of the other vampires, and she’d just stake me.

She makes me want to be honorable. For her. I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe if I go long enough without killing someone, prove that I’m useful enough, maybe she’d finally think me worthy of her love.

Cause we all know that’s gonna happen, right? Right. Damn idealist, never giving up hope even after it’s obvious that she’ll never love me.

How could she? It’s not like I have a soul, like Angel, it’s not like I’m almost human. But would someone please tell me why the fuck that would matter? Just because I don’t have a soul doesn’t mean I can’t love as strong as any mortal man.

Besides, she’s not exactly your average Jane mortal herself. She’s the Slayer, with her super strength and all… And she’s back from the dead. No telling what that could do to a girl. I wonder if she’ll age at all? After all, technically she was dead. Maybe she’s still dead, in some way. If someone comes back from the dead, do they just pick up their life where they left off, without a hitch? Or are they stuck forever at the same point they were at when they died, never to age? Hmm… I wonder if the Scooby Gang considered that before they brought her back. Probably not.

I wonder if Buffy has?

Well, no matter. Either way she obviously doesn’t want to spend her un-life with me, so why should I care? I don’t need her, there are plenty of other fish in the sea who would love the opportunity to shack up with me…

Oh bloody hell, who am I kidding? Who could want a vampire who can’t kill? Humans still view me as a vampire, ready to go on a rampage the second the chip is deactivated, and vampires think of me as a traitor, a weakling. So I’m screwed in both worlds. Lucky me, huh?

And so, I’m reduced to following her like a man possessed.

After all she’s been through, why can’t she look past the exterior and see me for who I really am? What is it about me that repulses her so, that makes her act like she could never love me? I wish I knew…

So here I am, alone once more. I guess I should just accept it as my lot in life, and deal with it.

“Hey.”

Her voice, soft with uncertainty, interrupts my thoughts. What is she doing here?

“You should go back inside. Finish the big group sing, get your kumbaya-yas out.” Just please, go anywhere but here, anywhere away from me. I’ve almost accepted my fate, you’ll ruin everything… turn me back into a whipped puppy.

“I don’t want to.”

Bloody hell; trust her to choose now to be stubborn. She knows she’s not welcome, why is she being so persistent?

“The day you suss out what you do want, there’ll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones.” As hard as I try, I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. So fine, let her see what she’s done to me, let her see what her careless attitude does to people.

“Spike-“

God, no, not now. I don’t want to hear any of your damn excuses, Buffy, any of your rehearsed thank-you speeches.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything-" I start to turn away. I know I’m being harsh, but right now I simply can’t care. I just want to be alone, to be allowed to lick my wounds in peace.

“I touch the fire and it freezes me.”

Her words freeze me in place for a second, then, hesitantly I turn to face her. What’s going on in that troublesome mind of hers? What is she trying to do?

“I died…” Despite my best judgment I answer her, still uncertain of what she is trying to do, what she is trying to say. If this is another one of her games…

“I look into it and it’s black.”

She’s watching me intently, taking a step closer, then another.

“…so many years ago.” Hope swells in my chest as she continues to watch me, continues to move closer. Brutally I try to squash it down, but I can’t… She’s got me firmly snagged in her web once more, and when she’s singing to me like that, looking at me like that, I don’t want to escape.

“This isn’t real,”

Well, at least she admits that from the start this time. I knew hope was useless.

“You make me feel…” And yet still I sing to her, although I don’t know why. I should be walking away from her right now; running as fast and as far as I can to escape this hold she has on me.

“…but I just want to feel…”

Finally, I don’t care anymore. She’s got that look in her eyes, and I know what she wants.

She wants to feel, does she? Well, far be it for me to deny her what she wants… What we both want.

Maybe, just maybe, I still have a chance of jolting her out of the ice, and into the flames.

Yes, God yes, this is what I want, this is what it should be like… As her mouth meets mine, the fire rages hotter than I’ve ever felt it before, lapping at my skin, my hair, until I should be concerned about dying from the heat.

But I’m lost, able only to think about the blond Slayer caught in my arms, clinging to me eagerly.

And so I give in, and let the fire consume us both.


~ ~ ~ ~



Part 3 ~ Making Amends


I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it’s black
Why can’t I feel
My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back


Now through the smoke she calls to me
To make my way across the flame
To save the day, or maybe melt away
I guess it’s all the same


So I will walk through the fire
Cause where else can I turn
I will walk through the fire
And let it…


Lost in Spike’s kiss, time seemed to stop. Buffy clung to him, the taste of his lips and the feel of his body against hers the only thing registering in her mind.

Her mind was abruptly brought back to the present as the sounds of her friends’ exit from the Bronze began to register in her head. It was Xander’s pathetic attempt at levity with a comment about there being no door to shut that alerted her to their presence, with that one exception they were despondent and quiet. Obviously, the revelations of the night had put a damper on the normal triumphant post-battle mood.

Stepping away from Spike quickly, her hand flew to cover her mouth. Her lips felt deliciously swollen from his kisses, and she could still taste him on her tongue. His flavor was delightfully spicy, with just a tinge of wickedness…forbidden fruit. After all, she was the Slayer, she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a vampire. And if that wasn’t enough to deter her, hadn’t she already learned her lesson with Angel? Once bitten, twice shy as the saying went. She should know better.

And yet…She stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock, confusion, and desire. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. In fact, after the events of tonight, it was starting to become painfully obvious.

He was the only one who seemed to understand what she was going through…who was willing to listen to her, to just sit and let her vent her confusion and anger and sadness without trying to comfort her with inane words. He didn’t act like she should be grateful to be alive. He, too, knew what it was like to die.

As much as she tried to hide it, both of the times that she had died greatly affected her. The first time Angel had been there to pick her up and dust her off. This time, it felt like she had no one. As much as they tried, none of her friends could really understand what she was going through. Part of her longed to run to Angel in L.A. and beg him to hold her, to wrap her in his arms and make it all go away. The rest of her was trying to convince her to give in to the man standing in front of her. Despite their rocky beginning and his evil roots, over the past year or so he’d proven his loyalty to her over and over…hadn’t he sworn to protect her sister, even if she failed?

“I never forgot my promise.” Now, as she stared at him, his words floated through her brain. How could she deny his devotion? Even after her death, when he could’ve just said, “fuck it” and walked away, chalking it all up to a mistake, or a lost cause, he’d stayed on. Helping the Scooby Gang and watching out for Dawn, despite the fact that the only person he ever got any appreciation from was Dawn.

Once again, her mind was abruptly yanked from her thoughts as her friends drew up alongside her and stopped, surrounding her with their shell-shocked confusion.

“Buffy, why didn’t you tell us? Wh-why did you lie to us?” Willow’s voice was plaintive and baffled, and she stuttered a bit as if she was unsure of what to say. Obviously, she was shaken up by the events of the night.

Inwardly, Buffy sighed. Gotta love singing demons who make you spill your guts… Her thoughts were sarcastic. Eventually, she’d have to deal with that. But not now. How to get rid of them? “I can’t handle this right now, Willow. We’ll deal with this later.”

Willow stared at her a moment longer as the group fidgeted, embarrassed to be there, to have taken a part in the spell to bring Buffy back. Buffy knew that the redhead wanted to pursue the conversation, to force the confrontation, but to her immense relief after a moment Tara took Willow’s arm and gently pulled her away.

The group started to move on, expecting her to follow, then stopped when they realized she wasn’t coming. This time it was Giles who spoke up, a slightly puzzled look on his face. “Aren’t you coming, Buffy?”

Trying to act nonchalant, she shrugged. “Nah. I’ll catch up, I have some…something to do first.” She censored her words at the last minute, not quite ready to divulge her confusion over Spike to her friends. Sure, they knew about his feelings for her, but it had always been a solid fact that she didn’t share those feelings. One major revelation per night was plenty, thanks.

“Oh, uh, ok. We’ll see you back at the house then.” Tara smiled at her softly, her eyes full of concern and compassion.

Was it bad when you started to feel more empathy with your best friend’s girlfriend, than with your best friend herself? As the group moved away, Buffy shook off the thoughts with a visible shudder. No matter, she had other things to worry about now. She’d talk to Willow later, when she had a better handle on her emotions.

After taking a quick second to compose herself, Buffy turned back to face Spike…only to find him gone.

“Damnit.” Raking a hand through her hair, she let out a disgusted sigh. Go figure, just when she actually wanted to talk about their relationship, to make some sense of things, the frustrating man just up and disappears.


***


Bottle in hand, Spike stared at the piece of ground. It looked ordinary, like every other piece of concrete out there. But he knew better.

This is where he had failed. This was where he had lost her, where she had died…and where, in part, he had died as well.

I died, so many years ago
You can make me feel like it isn’t so
Why you come to be with me
I think I finally know
Mmmm…

Silly, considering how vampires supposedly can’t die. At least not like a mortal can, anyway. But still, part of him was lost that day as he had stared at her silent, cold body, normally so vibrant with life. He’d never forget the way she had looked, broken and lifeless, and yet still ethereally beautiful.

He couldn’t begin to explain how he had felt when he realized that the figure coming towards him down the stairs that fateful day was not the Buffybot. Xander had hit the mark when he’d said that seeing Buffy alive was the happiest day in his existence… Nothing could have made him happier.

Nothing, except being able to take her into his arms and comfort her. To hug her, hold her close and make her realize that she was not alone, that she could lean on him if she needed to.

You’re scared, ashamed of what you feel
And you can’t tell the ones you love
You know they couldn’t deal
Whisper in the dead man’s ear
It doesn’t make it real


He knew exactly how terrified she must have been to wake up in her grave, to realize that she was buried alive. He knew how painful it was to tear one’s way out of a grave… both physically and emotionally. None of her friends could even begin to understand, and yet she still wouldn’t lean on him. It had torn him up inside, knowing that she needed someone to lean on more than ever before, but that she wouldn’t let it be him.

That’s great, but I don’t want to play
‘Cause being with you touches me
More than I can say
And since I’m only dead to you I’m saying stay away

No one knew he came here. But he did, often. Whenever he needed to think and his tomb felt too cramped, he would come here, stare at the ground, or at the remains of the tower, and remember.

Countless times over the summer he had pondered the thought of moving away, of moving on. There were thousands of other places out there where he could go, places where he could fade into the shadows and not be bothered… and yet he couldn’t leave Sunnydale, and its reminders of Buffy. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, the solitary life was starting to get old… As evidenced by Angel’s tortured existence, the life of a “good” vampire wasn’t overly fun without friends to make it worthwhile. And besides, even though Buffy had been dead, he still regarded his promise to protect Dawn as valid. Having failed her once already, that more than anything else kept him in Sunnydale, despite the pain of the Slayer’s noticeable absence.

Let me rest in peace
Let me rest in peace, let me get some sleep
Let me take my love and bury it in a hole six foot deep
I can lay my body down but I can’t find my sweet release
So let me rest in peace

“Spike.”

Startled by the soft whisper, he jerked around, unconcerned with the alcohol that sloshed out of the nearly-full bottle at his abrupt movement. He hadn’t taken more than a few sips. For some reason, the alcohol didn’t seem to be what he wanted tonight.

Tossing the bottle away with an angry jerk of his arm, he faced her, his expression defiant. His body was taut, tension radiating through his powerful muscles as he stared at her.

“Spike…” At a loss for words, Buffy avoided his gaze, choosing to stare instead at the ground in front of her feet. All through her desperate search her mind had been concerned with just one thing- to find him. Now that she had, she had no idea of what she wanted to say. “Spike, I…” Frustrated at her inability to find the right words, she sighed deeply and dragged a hand through her hair, tousling the silky strands.

“Just say it, Buffy.” His tone was harsh, his voice raspy with pain and hurt. “Just tell me to leave Sunnydale, that my presence here is too painful, or too frustrating, or too tempting, or whatever. Just say it and get it over with.” Taking a step towards her, he gestured angrily with his fist. “It doesn’t matter how many times you tell me to leave, you know. I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me! I don’t care if you’re the Slayer, you can’t make me leave if I don’t want to. I’m not bothering anyone, I’m not feeding off of humans, so you can’t slay me! So just deal with it Buffy, I’m not leaving! ” By the end of his tirade he was standing two inches away from her, looming above as he glared down into her surprised eyes.

You know, you got a willing slave
And you just love to play the part that you might misbehave
Until you do I’m telling you stop visiting my grave
And let me rest in peace

The torch I bear is scorching me
Buffy’s laughing I’ve no doubt
I hope she fries
I’m free if that bitch dies
I’d better help her out

Taking a step back in an effort to compose herself and reduce the tension that was sizzling between them, Buffy took a deep breath.

“Spike, I wasn’t going to tell you to leave. Why would I?”

“Isn’t that what you always do? When things get tough, either you leave, or you make sure the…complication does?” His tone was bitter, his eyes dark with pain.

I know, I should go
But I follow you like a man possessed
There’s a traitor here beneath my breast
And it hurts me more than you’ve ever guessed
If my heart could beat
It would break my chest
But I can see you’re unimpressed
So leave me be

Shocked by his words, and more hurt than she’d care to admit, she bit back the first words that came to mind…mainly, “fuck you.” Unfortunately, as much as the words hurt, he was right. She had run away from the difficult, on more than one occasion.

And let me rest in peace
Let me get some sleep
Let me take my love and bury it in a hole six foot deep
I can lay my body down but I can’t find my sweet release
Let me rest in peace
Why won’t you let me rest in peace

But finally, after feeling out of the loop for so long, and not knowing what she wanted or where she was headed, she was finally starting to get a clue. For some reason, saying the words “I was in heaven” aloud that evening had been sort of freeing…even though she hadn’t meant to say it, still, it was finally out in the open. Of course there was a whole ‘nother can of worms to deal with because of it, with Willow and the Scooby Gang and all, but she’d deal with it. At least she didn’t have to bite her tongue so often, to hide her feelings.

She is drawn to the fire
Some people she will never learn
And she will walk through the fire
And let it…

Finally, Spike had shoved his emotions in her face one too many times…and forced her to face her own, albeit unwillingly.

“So that’s what you think, huh? That I’m just some immature child who runs away at the first sign of difficulty?” Suddenly, much to her disgust, she found herself fighting tears. “You think I can’t be mature enough to face the problem and solve it like an adult?” Her voice was beginning to rise as a single tear trickled down her cheek. “If that’s so, then tell me Spike, why am I here? Why am I here, standing in front of you, instead of halfway to Canada by now?”

“Buffy…That’s not exactly what I meant.” Against his better judgment he found himself reaching out to wipe away her tears with his thumb. His finger was gentle against her skin, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “I meant…Hell, I don’t know what I meant.” He turned away from her, staring off into the distance as he talked. He had sworn to himself that he was never going to beg her again, that he was never going to swallow his pride and confess his feelings to her again…and yet here he was, doing it again.

“I’m hurting, Buffy. Loving the Slayer seems to go hand in hand with pain. But as many times as I try, I can’t seem to walk away. Lord knows I should have, long ago. You made it blatantly obvious that you didn’t want me here, that you could never return my feelings.” He stopped for a minute, running a hand over his face. “Being near you, even if I can’t have you, it’s all I have left, Buffy. Where else could a vampire who can’t kill anyone fit in, except in a mixed-up town like Sunnydale? At least here I have someone to talk to once in awhile, someone to remind me that maybe there is a purpose to my existence. I’m hurting, and for a moment I tried to ease that pain by lashing out at you and making you hurt, too. Not very noble, I know, but then when have I ever been noble? I’m just Spike, the toothless vampire who tries to justify his existence by doing the occasional favor for the Slayer and her pals, and taking whatever miserly crumb of attention she decides to hand out.” His tone was dark, a bitter half-smile curving his lips.

Will this do a thing to change her
Am I leaving Dawn in danger
Is my Slayer too far gone to care

What if Buffy can’t defeat it
Beady Eyes is right we’re needed
Or we could just sit around and glare

“I’m scared.” Suddenly she was standing behind him, mere inches away. She could feel his presence, and found herself fighting the urge to step even closer and wrap her arms around his waist, to rest her cheek against the soft leather of his jacket. She looked up at his profile, forcing herself to put her feelings into words. It was too late to back out now. She’d come too far. They’d come too far.

We’ll see it through it’s what we’re always here to do
So we will walk through the fire

“I’m scared to let myself care for you; I’m scared that if I do care for you, I’ll lose you. Between a rock and a hard place, they like to say. Either way I’m trapped.” Her voice was bitter with the last sentence, and she stopped for a minute. After taking a deep breath, she continued. “But the thing is, I’ve already made my choice… now I guess I just have to live with it. You see Spike, the thing is…” Her words trailed off as her courage suddenly deserted her, leaving her marooned and feeling helpless.

“What Buffy? The thing is what?” His voice was harsh as he whirled around to face her, their bodies now centimeters apart. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the shimmer of vibrant life that was so much a part of her. “I need to hear the words, Buffy. I’ve lived off of a smile and idle hope for too long, this time I need the words.”

“I… I care about you, Spike.” Her voice was soft, slightly timid.

As she realized what she had said, she sighed in frustration. As much as she’d like to leave it at that, she couldn’t. It wasn’t enough; he deserved more. She took a step away, she couldn’t think with him that close, driving her mad with the desire to just grab him and kiss him until they were both senseless and beyond talking.

“I love you, Spike.” There, she’d said it. She couldn’t take the words back now, even if she was suddenly feeling the cowardly urge to turn tail and run before she saw his reaction.

He faced her, his heart in his eyes. “You don’t mean that. How could you? Go on, run along home now, and let me lick my wounds in peace.” He turned away again, his face a mask of indifference.

So one by one they turn from me
I guess my friends can’t face the cold
But why I froze not one among them knows
And never can be told

But this time, she saw it for what it was- a mask. He was far from indifferent, indeed he was seething with tension and frustrated emotion.

Overcome with the need to comfort him all of a sudden, she stepped forward, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m not joking Spike. I love you.” Her words were little more than a whisper, but he heard her clearly.

Remaining silent, he stared down at her hand, resting so lightly against his jacket. How many times had he yearned for her to touch him of her own accord, to reach out and lay her hand upon him in a gesture of friendship, of affection? Oh, she had touched him plenty of times in violence, but this was different. Much different.

She came from the grave much graver
First he’ll kill her then I’ll save her
Everything is turning out so dark
No I’ll save her then I’ll kill her
I think this line’s mostly filler
It’s what they had to strike a spark

“You don’t think I could love you? You’re wrong. How could I not? You’re loyal, attentive, a great listener. You don’t talk just to hear yourself speak, and you don’t say something unless you really mean it, no matter what I want to hear. You’re always there to back me up, or protect my family, more than once you’ve saved my life now. As much as you try to hide it behind that bad-ass attitude, you care more than you let on.” Her other arm came up to rest on his shoulder, now she was standing behind him, her arms around him in a loose embrace. At his continued silence she sighed, finally giving into the temptation to rest her head against the broad width of his shoulders. “Spike…don’t make me beg…please. Say something.”

Suddenly he swung around to face her, the force of his movement knocking her arms away from him. His own arms came up to grab her shoulders as he loomed over her, trying to intimidate her.

“You want my love?” His voice was harsh, his expression angry. “Then by hell you’ve got it, you needn’t ever doubt that. But if you don’t mean it, if you’re just toying with me, fucking with my emotions, you’d better walk away now Missy, or deal with the consequences!” Then, before she could have a hope of responding, he suddenly jerked her against his body and crushed her mouth beneath his.

She gave in willingly, allowing her mouth to open beneath his assault, and her arms to slide around his waist. She clung to him, savoring the comforting strength of his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

Slowly the kissed softened, deepened, as they explored each other’s mouth; the different tastes and textures. As his teeth nipped oh-so-gently at her bottom lip, a slight moan escaped her throat. He groaned in answer, running fevered kisses over her cheek and down her neck, teasing the delicate skin with his teeth and enjoying the soft sigh of his name slipping from her lips. Capturing her lips with his he kissed her once more, finally letting go of the reins he had kept on his passion for so long.

Finally, with one last, lingering kiss, he pulled back…but not too far. Refusing to let go of her, he cradled her head against his shoulder and continued to hold her close. She felt so perfect in his arms, as if she’d always belonged there.

“Buffy…I love you.” A mere whisper, the words were heard anyway.

“I love you too.”

These endless days are finally ending in a blaze
And we are caught in the fire
The point of no return
So we will walk through the fire
And let it burn
Let it burn
Let it burn
Let it burn


~ ~ ~ ~



Part 4 ~ A Love Story

After awhile, Buffy finally pulled back from Spike’s embrace.  She looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his handsome, angular face highlighted by the soft glow of moonlight.  She smiled softly.

He answered her smile, a slightly quizzical look in his eyes as he tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.  “What’re you thinkin’ of, luv?”

Her grin widened and she laughed softly.  “How sexy you are.”

“Oh, really now?”  He looked like he didn’t quite believe her.  Sure, other women had found him attractive before, but… Buffy?  Thinking he was sexy?  That’s going to take some getting used to!  He had been denied the pleasure of her affection for so long that he was unsure of how to proceed.  What was allowed, and what wasn’t?

She gazed up at him, not bothering to conceal her admiring eyes.  Is that a hint of uncertainty I detect?  In Spike of all people?  I guess he’s not as self-assured as everyone thinks he is… “Yup.  What girl could resist those dashing cheekbones, or your sexy muscles, or your icy blue eyes?”   She smirked at him, noting the way he was shifting about, uncomfortable with her obvious praise.  “Face it, Spike, you’re hot.”

He was so used to picturing himself as an old vampire that it was hard for him to conceive of himself as Buffy seemed to.  Guess that’s what a century of no mirrors will do to ya… Determined to turn the tables on her, a devilish glint entered his eyes.  “Well then, you’ve got me, now what do you plan to do with me, wench?”

“Oh, and wouldn’t you like to know?”  Her grin turned predatory as she suddenly ducked out of his arms and took off running.  She shouted back over her shoulder, “Bet you can’t catch me!”  He could hear her laughing as she ran.  He took off after her, letting out a loud growl.

Their chase was full of mock insults and threats as Buffy led him through the graveyard.  They were fairly easily matched for speed, but Buffy’s head start gave her an edge she used wisely.

After a long and merry chase, she finally allowed Spike to catch her as she neared his crypt.  He grabbed her around the waist and slammed her up against the stone wall, trapping her there with his body.  He was so caught up in the chase that he didn’t realize that it was his own crypt that they were pressed against… and that he had been led there on purpose.

Exhilarated from the game, Buffy managed to pant out, “Got you.”  Even as she sucked air eagerly into her lungs, she grinned at him, her eyes alight with laughter.

Spike’s grin was feral as he deliberately pressed his body firmly against hers.  “I think you’ve got that backwards, luv.”  He nipped at her neck, allowing his fangs to graze her skin just hard enough to cause an arousing mixture of pleasure and a tinge of pain to spread through her skin.  “I’ve got you!”

He continued to nibble lightly at her neck as he felt her pulse quicken beneath his touch.  It was an incredibly heady feeling, to know that he was making her blood pound and her breath strain from passion, not fear.  It had been so long since he’d had a woman, a real woman, in his arms, and the sensation was driving him mad.

Buffy was amazed at the effect he had on her.  Sure, she had known for a while that she was attracted to him, but she had never expected it to be like this when she finally allowed herself to relax and give into the sensations.  Her body felt like molten liquid, and all he’d done was caress her neck!

She grabbed his head in her hands and eagerly pulled his mouth back to hers for a greedy kiss.  He growled deep in his throat as he kissed her, his tongue plunging deep to explore her mouth and duel with hers.  Bracketing her wrists with his own hands, he pinned them above her head.  With her desire to explore his body with her hands denied, she was forced to concentrate more fully on the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of him on her tongue.

After a few moments, though, she grew impatient with his restraints and began to wriggle against him in a useless effort to free herself.  Spike grinned, and simply rubbed his body against hers in return.  Her eyes popped open as she felt his hardness pressing insistently against her belly, and she bit back a moan.

Suddenly Spike pulled back, but kept her pinned to the wall by maintaining his grip on her wrists.  Although she could have easily escaped his grasp, she was surprised to realize that pulling away was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Now, tell me luv, what exactly is it that you want right now?”  His voice was harsh with desire, strained with the tight rein he was keeping on his passion.

“You.”  She was breathing heavily, her skin flushed with the accelerated flow of blood.  “I want you!”  She strained against his grip again, trying to free herself so she could bring him back to her.

He wouldn’t let her.  Instead he smiled, a devilish, wicked smile that was a delightful prophecy of what was to come.  He released his hold on her wrists, only to scoop her up in his arms and gather her against his chest.  With the damsel swept off her feet, he turned to look about, trying to get his bearings and figure out where home was.

In his arms, Buffy giggled.  “Spike.”

He shushed her before she could continue.  “Quiet now, Slayer, you’re supposed to behave like the good little damsel in distress who has just been rescued by your white knight, and let him sweep you off into the sunset…er, in this case I guess it’s darkness, eh?”  He gazed about him, an intent frown marring his handsome face.  “Now where the hell is the bloody castle?”  he grumbled.

She giggled all the harder at his analogy.  Spike, a white knight?  And yet it was strangely true.  How many times had he helped her out?  How many times had he saved her life?  I guess he really is my white knight.  But still, she couldn’t resist the temptation to point out to her errant rescuer what she knew that he, apparently, did not.  “Spike, the ‘castle’ is right there…”  She gestured over his shoulder, pointing out the tomb he had just turned away from.

With an irritated curse, he turned to face the stone.  “Now’s no time to toy with me luv, not when I’ve got a stake of me own in my pants!”

As Buffy laughed helplessly in his arms, he studied the crypt in front of him.  “Bloody hell!  That is my crypt!”  As he strode towards the door and yanked it open, carefully balancing Buffy in his arms as he did so, he glared down at her.  “I’m starting to think that you’re more a temptress than a maiden, lass.  You planned this,” he accused.

She smirked.  “Guilty as charged…”  Then, tired of the conversation, she turned her attention to the tempting column of his neck.  As her teeth scraped gently along the taut skin, he groaned deep in his throat.

Lord, what she can do to me with that sensual mouth of hers…  Even as the thought paraded through his mind he was striding deeper into the crypt.  He stopped in front of the ladder for a moment, pondering how the hell he was supposed to get down it while carrying her.  She laughed softly, realizing his dilemma, and was just about to suggest that he put her down when he seemed to make up his mind about something.

He set her down, but only long enough to turn his back to her.  Bracing himself for her weight, he said, “All right, get on then.”

She laughed as she realized what he intended to do.  “Spike, you can’t carry me piggy-back down the ladder!  You’ll kill us both!”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, irritated at her lack of faith in him.  “No I won’t.  Now get on!”

With an exasperated sigh, Buffy gave in and climbed on, wrapping her legs around his waist and clutching at his shoulders.  As he started down the ladder she muttered, “I hope you realize how much trust I have in you to do this, you could get us both killed!”

Even as he snapped at her to shut up and hold on, Spike grinned.  He enjoyed their verbal sparing matches every bit as much as their physical fights, and had missed them sorely while she had been gone.

When they landed safely on the floor of his bedroom, Buffy sighed in relief and pretended to thank the lord for their safe delivery into the bowels of his home.  Spike just glared at her and pretended to be offended.  Her grin was impish as she looked at him.

With a mock growl, Spike scooped her up in his arms again, carrying her the few steps to his bed and tossing her down.  He quickly followed her with his own body, pinning her against the soft mattress with his weight.

Before he had a chance to kiss her again, though, she turned the tables and flipped them over, so that she was on top.  Then, before he could grab a hold of her she stood up, grinning down at him as he lay sprawled across the bed.  As he started to get up she wagged her finger in his face, shaking her head no.  “Nuh-huh.  My turn to be on top.”  Her grin was naughty as her hands went to the hem of her velvety shirt.

As she began to tug the clingy fabric up and over her head and he realized what she intended to do, Spike’s unneeded breath caught in his throat.  .  Apparently he’d found himself a temptress, after all.  He was mildly surprised by her boldness; he had always pictured her as the champagne and roses type of lover… Not the playful little devil that stood in front of him.  “Buffy…”  His voice was a low, intense growl.  He stared at her, unable to finish his thought.

Bolstered by the obvious desire in those gorgeous blue eyes of his, she continued her strip tease, slowly reaching behind her to unfasten the clasp of her lacy black bra.  As the straps slid down her arms and the garment landed on the floor, his gaze fastened like two blue lasers on her exposed skin.

Suddenly unnerved by his intense stare, she quickly finished undressing; leaving her jeans and underwear, along with her shoes and socks, in a messy pile on the floor.  Then, taking a deep breath in an attempt to appear calm, she faced him, standing silently for his scrutiny.

Recognizing her nervousness and guessing correctly at its source, Spike took his time admiring her slender body as she stood before him.  Her breasts were full and firm, the nipples a delicate rosy brown as they tightened under his gaze.  Her stomach was flat and toned, flowing smoothly into the delicate flare of her hips and the well-muscled length of her legs.  Her skin looked smooth and silky, and Spike reflected that it probably tasted as good as it looked.  An image of Buffy pinned beneath him, naked and yearning as he explored her body with his mouth, exploded through his brain and left him visibly shaking with desire.

Unable to wait a moment longer he leapt from the bed and quickly began shedding his own clothes, even as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.  “My god you’re beautiful.”  The words were murmured reverently against her skin as he rained kisses over her face and neck.  She trembled against him as she fought with the button on his jeans, trying to help rid him of his clothes.  With a softly muttered oath at his own urgency he gently brushed her hands away and unfastened the jeans himself.  He had to sit down on the bed a moment to remove his boots, and he impatiently tossed them against the wall, ignoring the dull thump as they landed.  With those out of the way he hurriedly stripped out of his jeans and fell back on the bed, grabbing her around the waist and taking her with him.

Just as he had imagined, her skin felt deliciously soft against his as she landed on top of him.  His hands framed her face and he pulled her lips down to his, kissing her long and deep.  She moaned softly into his mouth as he gently bit her bottom lip, and his hands began to explore the treasure-trove of her body.

He let his fingers roam endlessly, gliding along a smooth expanse of skin here, delving into a delicate furrow there.  He spent several moments playing with the sensitive peaks of her breasts, enjoying the way she moaned at his touch.  Even as she rubbed against him, increasing the contact between their bodies, she whimpered.  Begging him, without words, to relieve the delicious ache in her body.

As his fingers finally brushed against the hot dampness of her, she cried out.  “Spike!”  She bit at his neck, dragging his mouth back to hers for a mind-numbing kiss.

He chucked at her eagerness.  “What, luv?”  He suddenly flipped them over, so that she was beneath him and he was in control.  His voice was husky, his eyes alive with fire for her.  “What is it you want?”  His lips traveled down her body, stopping to linger at the peaks of her breasts for a few moments, at the sensitive flesh of her hip, before moving further down.

As his mouth finally found the delicate folds and his tongue delved inside to stroke and tease, she cried out again.  Denying her unspoken demand for him to be inside her, he continued to cleverly use his mouth on her, driving her closer and closer to the peak of desire.  As he felt her body tighten beneath him, straining towards satisfaction, he bit down ever so gently on the taut bundle of nerves at her center and sent her free-falling over the edge, calling his name.

Swiftly, before she had a chance to come back down and to regain her senses, he was flipping her over, sprawling across the bed on his back and dragging her astride him.

“Buffy.”  He murmured her name, his voice almost inaudible with the strength of his desire.  “Luv, look at me.”  Only then, when her eyes were locked on his, did he thrust up and into her, growling deeply at the indescribable sensation of her encasing him in the wet heat of her body.

Like him, the sensation of their two separate bodies joining together as one was too much for her, and she cried out at the pleasure of it.  She began to move on top of him, her hips rocking back and forth as she started to ride him towards their release.

His hands moved to her hips, grabbing hold and speeding up the pace.  With each thrust his body arched upwards to meet hers, and within moments they were both sliding over the edge into oblivion, lost in the pleasure claiming their bodies.  In that final moment Spike arched upwards, capturing Buffy’s mouth in a deeply passionate kiss, binding them together as their bodies exploded in synchrony.


~ ~ ~ ~



Part 5 ~ Aftermath

Several long moments later, Buffy roused enough to sigh.  She was sprawled on top of Spike.  She shivered as the sweat began to dry on her body, though her flesh was still flushed from their passion.

Spike stirred beneath her, stroking a gentle hand down her back.  She murmured softly at the simple pleasure of the caress, at the intimacy of the act.

“You cold, luv?”  His voice was tender as he continued to caress the silky skin of her back.  She nodded against his chest.  The blankets from the bed lay tangled on the floor, and he sat up enough to drag them over the cuddling pair.

After a few more moments of laying there in contented silence, Spike shifted enough so that he was on his side, able to look down at her.  She rolled onto her back, meeting his gaze as she cuddled against his side.  He smiled, running a hand through her tousled curls to brush them off her face.

After a moment, though, his face sobered.  “I’m sorry, luv.”

Buffy was puzzled.  “For what?”  Like him, her voice was soft with the memory of the recent intimacy they had just shared.

He continued to run his fingers through her hair, needing to touch her in some way.  “I should’ve given you flowers and wine, you know, romance.  And instead I just tumbled you like a bloody teenager who couldn’t control his hormones.”

The obvious frustration in his voice amused her, and she giggled softly.  “Spike, I didn’t want flowers and romance… The only thing I wanted was you, on top of me, beneath me, inside me.  I would’ve gone insane if you had tried to take the time to set the scene!”  She smiled up at him, raising a hand to touch his cheek, letting her fingers drift down the side of his face and back into his hair.

He shuddered softly at her touch; amazed at the power she had over him.  Even now, after they had so recently feasted off each other, the simple touch of her hand to his face could set him on fire again.  He lowered his mouth to hers, nuzzling her lips and kissing her gently.  “Next time, then,” he murmured softly.  Despite her claim otherwise, he knew she deserved romance and he was determined to give it to her eventually.

She smiled, sighing softly in contentment as she cuddled against his side.  He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her back against him, cradling her with her back pressed against his chest.  To his pleasant surprise they fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.   Finally, exhausted from the emotional night, Buffy slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Throughout the night Spike stayed with her, steeped in the enjoyment of actually being able to hold her close, instead of just dreaming of doing so.  And, despite all that had happened that night, he couldn’t help but wonder… What would the morning bring?

***

Although it was impossible to tell from deep inside the tomb, the sun was high overhead when Buffy finally woke.  She stretched luxuriously, her yawn turning into a grin as she felt her skin rub against Spike’s, and the events of the night returned to her.  He had finally fallen asleep with the arrival of the dawn, sprawled facedown next to her with his arm resting heavily across her stomach.  Even in sleep he wasn’t willing to let her go.

At her movement he stirred, groaning slightly.  Without opening his eyes he muttered ill-temperedly, “Is it morning then?  It bloody well can’t be morning already…”

Buffy laughed softly.  He reminded her of a grumpy little boy being woken up to go to school.

At her laughter, he sat bolt upright and stared at her, abruptly awake.  Buffy gazed up at him, startled by the intensity of his gaze.  “Spike?  What’s wrong?”

With a deep sigh of relief (a human habit he had yet to break), he lay back down and gathered her close again, his arms tight about her.  “Nothing, luv.  For a moment there, I just wasn’t sure if it was all real or not.”

She easily read the relief in his voice, and despite the fact that she knew he had had adequate reason to worry she was slightly hurt by his disbelief.  “You thought I would leave, didn’t you?  That I would say it was all a mistake?”

He heard the hurt in her voice, he would’ve had to be deaf not to.  He tightened his arms about her even more, hugging her tightly.  Even though he knew she didn’t want to hear it he felt the need to speak the truth.  And so he kept his voice soft and gentle, trying to upset her as little as possible.  “It was a possibility, luv.”  He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

She turned away from his touch, but did not try to leave the circle of his arms.  Instead, she buried her face against his chest and silently began to cry, her body shaking gently with her sobs.  His heart broke at the pain he had caused her, and he would’ve given anything to be able to take the words back.

“Buffy…”  He murmured her name softly, trying to get her to look at him.  It didn’t work.

“Am I so untrustworthy, then?  Am I so unfeeling?”  Her voice was broken by her sobs, but she forced the words out anyway.  “So incapable of lo-love?”

“Oh God no, sweetling.”  He placed his hand beneath her chin and gently forced her face up to look at him.  Tear tracks stained her cheeks, and fresh ones continued to trickle softly even as she met his tender gaze.  “Buffy, you’re the most caring person I know.  Once you actually allow yourself to love someone, you’d do anything in your power to make that person happy.”  He gently wiped away her tears, kissing the damp trails softly.  “It’s just the allowing yourself to love part that gets you every once in awhile, sweets.  Once you do…”  He forced her to look at him again, his gaze burning her with its intensity.  “Once you do, you’re the most loving person I’ve ever had the fortune to meet.

“It wasn’t your love I doubted… I just needed to make sure that you had actually decided to allow yourself to love me.”  He kissed her, the caress one of comfort, not passion.

He continued to hold her quietly, until her tears finally dried up and she could think logically again.

“I’m sorry-“

He cut off her unneeded apology with another kiss.  “I love you, Buffy.”  Being able to say those words aloud, without fear of them being shoved back in his face unwanted, was the best feeling in the world.

A corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile as she replied, “I love you, too.”

The couple laid in silence for a few more moments, content to enjoy the other’s presence.

Finally, Buffy forced herself to sit up and look at the clock.  “To answer your earlier question, yes, it’s morning… At least for me.”  She smiled sadly, not wanting this quiet interlude to end and the insanity of her regular life to begin again.  “I should be getting home, the gang’s probably crazy with worry by now, thinking I threw myself off a cliff or something.”

He nodded, knowing the truth of her words.  “I’d go with you, but…”

“…But this is something I need to face by myself.  I know.”  She smiled softly in understanding.  “But you’ll come tonight, right?  As soon as it’s dark?”  She couldn’t help her feelings of insecurity; she hated to be separated from him.  She wanted him close, especially since she knew an unpleasant confrontation with her friends was the order of the day.  It would be so much easier to face them with him at her side, knowing someone was there to back her up.

He nodded, smiling at her.  “Of course.”

With an answering smile of her own, she slipped out of bed, trying not to feel self-conscious about her nakedness.  Lord knows it certainly hadn’t bothered her last night!  Bending down to grab her clothes, she suddenly realized that they weren’t at the foot of the bed like she had expected.  She looked around blankly for her clothing.

Spike laughed as he realized her dilemma, a cocky smirk on his face.  “Made a right mess of the place, didn’t we?”

As she picked her underwear up from where they had been tossed onto a chair, she shot him a mock glare.  “You could get out of bed and help me look for my clothes, you know.”

His smirk widened.  “I could… But it’s more fun to watch you scramble around, bare-ass naked looking for them yourself.”  She glowered at him, and in response he slapped her butt gently as she walked by to snatch her jeans up off the floor by his side of the bed.  She squealed and jumped away, her eyes wide.  He laughed out loud, enjoying the playful mood she inspired in him.

He watched appreciatively as she wriggled into her jeans, then searched around for her bra and shirt.  She finally found them, tangled together in a heap near the ladder.  She sat down on the edge of the bed to put on her boots, then leaned across the sheets to give Spike a kiss goodbye.

Before she could pull away, he deepened the kiss and yanked her closer, until she was sprawled atop him again.  When he finally relinquished her mouth, his grin was wicked and his eyes sparkled.  “Are you sure you wanna leave just yet?”  His hands stroked over her body, sliding under her shirt to do naughty things to the sensitive skin of her back and ribs.

She shivered from his touch, every nerve on fire.  She allowed him to take her under with another kiss, her body yearning for more.

After a long moment she finally pulled back, using every ounce of willpower she possessed.   “I really… should… go…”  She punctuated the words with kisses.

Nodding his head reluctantly, Spike let her go.  “Be gone with you then!”  He grinned at her, crossing his hands behind his head and lounging back against the pillows while watching the sway of her butt as she climbed up the stairs.  As she disappeared from view, the grin left his face and he murmured softly, “Goodbye luv.  Good luck.”

He knew she was going to need it.

***
Buffy let herself into the house, surprised at the silence within.  She had expected to find her friends all waiting for her, worried at her absence.

Shows how much I know… Wandering through the deserted house, she let her bitter thoughts run free for a few moments.  Not even a note saying “call when you get in,” or anything!  It was Saturday, it didn’t take a genius to realize that they were probably all at the magic shop, working away.  Probably using any spare time to talk about me, too.  Deciding their plan of attack for when they get home.

Shaking off the dismal thoughts, Buffy decided to use her free time wisely, and catch up on lost sleep.  She was going to need enough energy to face the hordes that night.

And if last night was anything to go by, it looked like she was going to start becoming a lot more nocturnal…

***

Buffy woke again around four that afternoon, finally feeling rested after several hours of deep sleep.  Guessing that her friends would be home within an hour or two, she decided that it was time to get cleaned up and ready to face the evening ahead.

Stripping off the T-shirt and panties she had slept in, she took a moment to study herself in the mirror.  The dark circles under her eyes that had been plaguing her for the past week or so were gone, and even to her own gaze she seemed more alert than she had been in recent weeks.  Her skin was flushed from sleep, and she could see several finger-sized bruises marring its surface.  Her body ached lightly in a dozen places, and she smiled at the insistent reminders of the night before.

It still felt weird to think of Spike as her lover, but at the same time it felt completely natural.  As if she had been waiting her whole life to call him such.  Every other thought seemed to be about him, and her smile widened as she stepped into the shower.

She turned on the faucet and yelped when the cold water hit her- she hadn’t remembered to give it a moment to warm up first.  After a moment the icy water began to warm, and she sighed in pleasure as the little bullets of heat pelted her aching muscles and released the last vestiges of her remaining tension.

She poured a small amount of her favorite mint shampoo into her palm, and began to work it through her hair, massaging it into a rich lather.  The tangy scent of spearmint drifted through the shower, making her feel even more revitalized.  It was odd, after the night she had just had, even the simple, everyday act of shampooing her hair felt indulgent somehow.

In the mood to pamper herself, she finished washing and conditioning her hair, then took the time to rub a fruit-scented body-scrub over her legs, and to shave.  After ducking under the water for a final rinse, she turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower.  Wrapping herself in a fluffy blue towel until she was dry, she then smeared a rich, creamy lotion over her skin, rubbing it in until her entire body felt silky-smooth.

After combing her hair and brushing her teeth, Buffy walked back into her room to pick out her clothes.


* * *


She had just finished slicking a shimmery plum lipgloss onto her pout when she heard the door slam downstairs.

“Buffy?  Are you here?”  Dawn’s shouted question, ripe with worry, was quickly echoed by the rest of the Scoobies.  Feet clattered on the stairs.

Wonderful, here we go… With resigned thoughts, Buffy took one more quick look in the mirror, tugged down the belly-baring hem of her shirt, and headed out to meet them.  “I’m right here…”

***
After several moments of repeatedly telling her friends that she was all right, and convincing them that they should continue the discussion downstairs, and not at the top of the stairs, Buffy finally managed to get the group settled into the living room.  She sat on the couch with Dawn, Xander sat in the armchair with Anya perched in his lap, and Giles, Willow, and Tara stood in various positions around the room.

Willow, eager to absolve herself of the guilt that had been lodged uncomfortably in her chest all night, was quick to wade right in to the sticky mess.  “Buffy, where were you last night?  We were worried sick, you never came home and we couldn’t reach you and couldn’t find you and-“

Buffy cut off the flood of words.  “I’m fine, Willow.  I just didn’t want to be found, that’s all.”  She glanced around the room, noting Anya’s bored face, Giles’ concerned face, and Tara’s sympathetic one.  Xander looked sad, and Willow just looked upset.  Dawn’s face was a mixture of concern and happiness that she was finally home and safe.

She continued, “I just… I just needed time to think, to sort things out in my mind before I would be able to talk about them with you guys.”

“I was so worried, Buffy.”  Dawn’s soft comment made Buffy wince.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.  I should have realized that you would all worry, and at least have called to let you know that I was ok.  I won’t do it again, ok?”  She smiled softly at her sister, her eyes apologetic.  Dawn smiled back.

“Where were you, though?  We looked everywhere!”

Willow’s insistent demand as to her whereabouts was beginning to annoy the Slayer.  Oh, well sorry Willow, I was just a bit busy, letting Spike fuck my brains out.  Nope, that wouldn’t really go over well.  She still wasn’t sure how she was going to bring that little tidbit up.  It was going to be an interesting night… “I was just walking around, Willow.”  Her tone was a bit sharper than intended, but oh well.

The tension between the two girls was palpable.  Glancing at Willow, Giles cut into the conversation and tried to steer the conversation back to pertinent ground.  “Uh, are you really all right, Buffy?  I mean, ah, after all that we learned last night…”  His words trailed off and he seemed unable to continue.

“I’m fine, Giles.”

“Buffy, why didn’t you tell me where you were?  Why did you hide it from us?”  Willow’s voice was on the verge of hysterical as she raked her fingers agitatedly through her hair.

“I didn’t tell you because…well, because you were all so happy that I was back, and proud of your accomplishment.  I didn’t want to burst your bubble.  It just would’ve raised more questions, more problems.  Besides, it’s not like you could exactly take it back.”  The blond Slayer’s words were brutally frank as she looked at the other girl.

“But we could’ve, I could’ve!  I could’ve done something to fix it.”  Willow’s tone was insistent.

“You could’ve done what, Will?  Killed me again?  That would’ve gone over well, hm?”  Suddenly too wired to sit still, Buffy rose from the couch to stalk about the room.  “You’d just go, ‘oops, made a mistake, sorry guys,’ and send me merrily back to my grave, right?  You would be so eager to make right your mistake that you’d take me away from all of you again, take me away from my sister again, right?  Right, Willow?”  Her final words were almost a shout as she stood, her body taut, glaring at the witch.

“Buffy, stop!  It wouldn’t be like that!  Willow wouldn’t do that…Would you?”  Dawn’s teary words made Willow flinch.

The redhead’s response was interrupted by the front door swinging open, and a certain blond-haired vampire rushing in.  Glancing out the window, Buffy realized that the sun was almost completely down, Spike hadn’t even waited for it to become fully dark.  Touched by his obvious concern and care, she pushed aside her agitation for a moment and smiled at him as he strode into the room.  Although she knew it was better to face this alone, she was immeasurably glad that he was here.  Besides, she had thought to have this conversation as soon as she got home, how was she to know her friends would all be at work?

Summing up the tense situation at a glance, Spike stopped directly in front of Buffy.  With a hand under her chin, he tilted her face up to his and studied her expression.  “You ok?  These blokes giving you a hard time, doll?”  His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he gazed at her, ignoring the puzzled expressions around the room.

Puzzlement soon turned to shock as he lowered his head and slowly caressed her lips with his.  Despite their audience he didn’t skimp on the kiss either, but instead took his sweet time to nibble on her bottom lip, exploring her willing mouth with his tongue, and clouding her mind with his scent.  When he finally lifted his lips from hers he gathered her close.  Don’t know if she told them or not, but there.  Now the cat’s out of the bag, whether she wants it to be or not.

Over her shoulder he glared at the people scattered about the room, their mouths hanging open in surprise.  Xander looked angry and disgusted, Anya looked like she was about to jump Xander, Tara and Dawn were smiling, Willow appeared to have forgotten how to breath, and Giles was furiously rubbing his glasses on his shirt and muttering to himself.  Spike burst out laughing.  Apparently she hasn’t said anything about the new developments of last night…

Buffy pulled away from him, looking at him like he was crazy.  Her face flooded with color as she looked around at her friends and suddenly realized what they had just done.

Unable to help himself as he gazed at the horrified look on her face, Spike laughed even harder.  He clutched at his stomach, as if trying to hold in the deep chuckles.  Through the gales of laughter, he managed to gasp, “What, you all’ve never seen two people kiss before?”

Mortified, Buffy smacked Spike, none-to-gently, on the shoulder and glared at him.  He just grinned back, still laughing softly.  “I take it you didn’t tell them about us, did ya luv?”  Despite the smile and the easy words, she detected a slight edge of anger in his voice.

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, Spike.  They just got home a few minutes ago, and we were kinda occupied with other stuff… I just never got around to mentioning it.”  Her eyes implored him to believe her.  She placed her hand on his arm, idly stroking her fingers over his skin.  He wondered if she realized this was the first time she’d willingly touched him affectionately in public.  Probably not.  He smiled at her, reassuring her with his eyes.

Their soulful eye lock was interrupted by a loud “Hrmmmph.”  Giles angrily shoved his glasses back on his face, and took a few furious steps towards Spike.

“How dare you take advantage of her like this!  You have no right to, to weasel your way into her affections when she is confused and upset about this matter.”

He would have gone on further with his accusations, but Buffy stepped in, interrupting him before Spike blew a fuse and went postal on her Watcher.  There had never been a great deal of tolerance between those two for each other.  “Giles.”  She spoke softly at first, but as he continued to ignore her she was forced to raise her voice.  “Giles!”

When he finally looked at her, she continued.  “He didn’t take advantage of me.  I just…”  She frowned, frustrated by her inability to find the words she wanted.  Finally deciding on the best words to use, she went on.  “Ever since I was brought back, I’ve been finding it more and more difficult to feel anything, to care about the world around me.  You all have noticed it, right?”  She raked a hand through her hair, taking a few seconds to gather up her courage for her next statement.  “I’m just so tired of trying to fight one of the few things I do feel, Giles.  I love him.  I have for a while, I was just too damn stubborn to admit it.”  She was surprised at how good it felt to say those words out loud, and she smiled softly, hoping her Watcher would understand.

At the moment, however, Giles was incapable of understanding.  He couldn’t get past the thought of his Slayer with the blond vampire he still didn’t trust, and fury was clouding his judgment.  He grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and stalked towards the door.  He stopped briefly in front of Buffy, disappointment and anger on his face.  He looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing.

When he did finally speak, though, his words cut through her like the keenest knife.  His voice was low and guttural, not the calm, reasonable voice of the Giles she knew.

“I can’t believe this, that you’d give yourself to this, this- this demon.  Of all the stupid thinks you’ve ever done, this has to be the top.  At least Angel had a soul.”  The words, a very low blow, caused Buffy to flinch as tears stung the backs of her eyes and threatened to fall.  Giles didn’t seem to notice, or care.  “I’ve never been so disappointed in you in my life.  Call me when you come to your senses.”
 
With one last bitter look, and his mouth set in a grim line, he stalked out the door.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Buffy stood stock-still.  Slow, silent tears began to trickle down her face unheeded.  Spike approached her slowly, wrapping his arms around her from behind and trying to gently turn her to face him.  She resisted for a long moment, and he feared that her Watcher’s words would cause her to push him away.

Finally, with a strangled sob, she fell into his arms and clung to him.  He tightened his grip on her, cradling her close and stroking her hair, lending her his shoulder to cry on.  He wanted to punch Giles for doing this to her, for making her choose between her father and her lover.

No, scratch that.  He wanted to rip him to pieces for doing this to her.

As all her friends shuffled around uncomfortably behind them, and Buffy’s sobs finally began to slow, Spike gently tilted her tear-stained face up to meet his gaze.  “Buffy, luv, I’m sorry…”  At a loss for words for a few seconds, he finally found his voice and continued.  “Don’t let what he said bother you.  He’s just pissed off because he doesn’t like me, eventually he’ll come to his senses and realize that you’re happy, and come crawling back.”  He regarded her earnestly, one of his hands idly stroking through her hair as he talked.  “In the end, you know he loves you enough that he just wants you to be happy.” He hoped.

Slightly surprised to hear such wise words coming from the blond vampire, especially regarding a man he made no bones about disliking, Buffy nodded.  She was touched by the way he gently wiped her tears away with his thumb, the way he softly kissed her forehead.

“C’mon, luv.  Let’s go home.”  With one swift, inscrutable glance at the other Scoobies still hanging around, Spike took Buffy’s hand and tugged gently, herding her towards the door.

She followed him for a few steps, then stopped, looking back over her shoulder at the group still assembled in the family room.  She shook her head slowly, and said softly to Spike, “No.  I need to finish this.”  She walked back into the room, the vampire following reluctantly.

“So, while we’re on the subject, anyone else want to take a potshot at my choice in men?”  Facing her friends, she took the time to look each one in the eye, daring them to say something.  Willow, Tara, and Dawn all shook their heads “no,” and Anya just shrugged, as if to say, “what do I care?”

Though as she had expected, Xander took her up on her offer.

“Actually, if you’re asking, yes.”  He looked determined to have his say.  “How could you fall for him, Buffy?”  He looked aggravated, and honestly confused.  “I mean, this is… this is Spike we’re talking about!  He’s tried to kill you before!”

“He’s also saved my ass more times than I can count, and looked after Dawn for the past several months while I was gone!”  Her hazel eyes blazed fire in her conviction.  “In fact, he continued to take care of her even after I was dead, he continued to help you guys man the Hellmouth, even when he could’ve said ‘fuck it’ and walked away without anyone trying to stop him.  In fact,” she looked around the room again, taking in everyone’s expression and including the whole group in her next comment, “how often did any of you say ‘thank you’ to him for his efforts?  How often did you let him know that you appreciated his help, his continued loyalty?”

Only Dawn timidly raised her hand, as if she was answering a question in class.  The guilty expressions on everyone else’s face told Buffy their answers as clearly as words.  Just as she had suspected, Spike’s assistance had gone unheeded by everyone except her little sister.

“Yup, that’s what I thought.  None of you are in the position to throw stones at Spike.  He makes me happy.  End of subject.”  With everyone properly cowed on the vampire subject, she decided to move on.

“Look, guys, I know a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours.  I’m sorry you had to find out that way, I know I should have told you myself.”  She sighed, tired of this whole discussion.  “I just… it just seemed like too much effort at the time.  Besides, you meant well.  I knew that, I do know that.  Nothing would’ve changed it, it’s just something I have to learn to live with.”

She turned, smiling softly at Spike as he stood uncomfortably behind her, hands stuffed in his pockets.  “And with the help of a certain someone, I’m dealing.”  Her words were tender as she held out a hand to him.  When he took it she pulled him closer, so that he stood at her side, their fingers tangled together in a silent show of unity.

“I’m getting better, I promise.”  She smiled at her friends.  “And with your help, I’ll keep getting better.  So thank you- and I actually mean it this time- for bringing me back.  You gave me another chance at life, and indirectly made me face my feelings towards Spike.”

Willow, apparently acting as the unofficial spokesperson for the rest of the group, finally spoke up.  “We’re sorry, Buffy.  I’m sorry.  We should’ve given it more thought before we invoked such powerful magic.”  Her hands played distractedly with the hem of her shirt as she talked.  “I just kept remembering how bad it was for Angel when he was stuck in Hell, and I couldn’t get the image of you stuck there as well, going through unknown amounts of torture, out of my head.”  She looked earnestly at her best friend, begging her to believe her.  “I promise, next time- and we’re hoping that there’ll never be a next time- we’ll be more careful, k?”

Buffy nodded, smiling.  “It’s OK, Will.  I always knew you meant well.  It just took me awhile to get over the shock of being in Heaven one minute, then trapped inside my grave the next.  Talk about some major adjusting!”  She grinned wryly, relieved that the crisis was past.

“So, any questions, comments, or lewd jokes anyone wants to share?”  She took a deep breath, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders and neck as she did so.  It was finally over.  When no one answered her, she shrugged.  “Ok then.  I think I’m gonna go take a walk, attempt to relax a little… and I promise, this time I’ll be home in a couple hours.  Can one of you watch Dawn for me while I’m gone?”

Even as everyone quickly agreed, Dawn protested.  “I’m fifteen Buffy, I don’t need a babysitter!”

Buffy smiled in understanding at her sister.  Sometimes she knew she was overreacting, and she felt bad for constricting Dawn in such a way, but still.  Just look at how many times in the past the baddies had tried to use her younger sister as bait for the Slayer.  “Under normal circumstances, you would be, I know.  But Dawnie, this is Sunnydale, and you’re the sister of the Slayer.”

Turning to Spike, she said softly, “Coming with me?”

He pretended to think about it for a moment.  “Well, let’s see.  I could spend the next several hours being glared at by your friends,” at this he winked at Dawn, “or I could spend some time alone with you.”  It took him all of two seconds to make his decision.  “Well, that’s a toughie, but I think I’m forced to pick the second option.”

With Buffy giggling at his words, the pair walked out the door, hand in hand.

As the door closed softly behind them, Dawn looked at the others.  “So, that went well, didn’t it?”


The End




Back to Fiction: By Alpha ~ Back to Fiction: By Season