Soft
Chapter Five
I'm filled with the wonderful sensation of waking up next to someone as I come to consciousness. I feel arms wrapped around me and my leg entwined with someone else's. A chin is pressing lightly into my forehead. I open my eyes and see a black t-shirt covered chest. Part of me finds it odd that knowing it's Spike holding me doesn't diminish the pleasant sensation at all. He doesn't move…at all. Doesn't breathe. Again I'm reminded of a statue. And for a moment a shot of horror twinges in my belly at the knowledge that he is dead. I reluctantly pull out of the embrace. He doesn't stir. I realise that it's morning and traditional sleepy time for vampires.
Vampire. It's been so long since I thought of him like that. I forget what he is. What they say he is, a soulless demon. I stroke his slightly ruffled hair back from his face. He's angelic looking when he's asleep. Perfect features. He is beautiful.
And then, for some odd reason, I press a kiss to his lips. He moves then slightly, and I think he will wake, but he just smiles softly and mumbles something that sounds like 'Glinda'.
I stop to think once I'm out of my room.
---It's late afternoon when I wake. I'm feeling a mite peckish, but I don't think Tara's got a stash of blood in that bar fridge of hers, so I raid it for milk and make myself a hot chocolate. Nowhere near as good as she makes it, still, reminds me of her now. And Joyce still too. And the look on bloody Angel's face that night he tried to protect Joyce from me. Stupid pillock, she was never in any danger. Would never have hurt Joyce. I'm not the ungrateful fuck Angelus was. Might be a cold-blooded killer but I remember kindnesses. Fine lady, sexy too. I know technically I'm older than she was, but Joyce was still more of a Mum than a potential lover.
I poke around Tara's room a bit. Not many secrets I haven't unearthed yet. I poke around when I'm visiting her all the time. She doesn't mind. Think she thinks it keeps me busy. Sometimes I catch her watching me, always blushes and looks away.
Starting to think she might, just might, be having some not so homosexual feelings towards me. Yeah I know, the oral sex, but see…it's not feelings, not me, I might as well be a vibrator there. The kisses though…and last night, when she snuggled against me…Don't know what I'd do if she did have those kinds of feelings towards me. Her lesbianism is like a safety guard, like a shield. Ours is very definitely the love that dare not speak its name. She's a good girl and she's so bloody good to me. I don't think I can bear it sometimes. Don't know what I'd do if I thought I could have her. And what about Buffy? Got to remember her. Not as hard to do that when I'm alone in my crypt having a sad pathetic wank as it is here, even alone, surrounded by Tara's scent, in the light.Haven't been needing to wank much lately, alone that is.
I harden, thinking about last night, with Tara. And for some reason I feel guilty. Bloody stupid. But last night was different with Tara. Before, when I tossed off because of what we did together…it was because of the act, because of the sensuality of it, bloody hell, because I had my tongue in her quim. When I first propositioned her, I wanted her softness, I wanted to kiss her, to have more of the soft, kindness and light she offered. But I realise this is the first time I've lusted after her body. After her heavenly breasts and her soft thighs.
It scares me.
---
I can't stop feeling a happy feeling knowing that Spike is in my bed waiting for me to come home. I know it is a very foolish thing to be feeling. Know that I'm being very foolish even letting myself feel like this. Because despite what we do, despite how close and intimate we are, despite the soft kisses and the holding and the caresses, despite how special he somehow makes me feel, I know that he wants Buffy, that he loves Buffy. And I love Willow. But when I see Willow across the lecture theatre, my stomach twists and I don't get happy flip-flops, I get a sad sick feeling and an almost-dread. And I don't like that I do.
I'm still thinking these thoughts when I open the door to my room and am accosted by a blur of peroxide blonde vampire.
I'm twirled around and deposited on my bed. He collapses next to me.
"Hullo love," he grins.
I laugh, and already his hands are creeping up under my skirt.
---
Oh bloody hell, this is heaven. I'm lost between her legs, drinking her in, drinking in her pleasure. For a moment I forget that there are bad things in this world and that I am one of them. And for a moment, I forget that I'm loving a woman I cannot have. I want Tara. Somewhere between sip and kiss, I started wanting her. As I lick her thigh, kiss away the final quivers of her coming, and lift myself to brush my lips against hers, I know I do. I want her. And I also know, I can't have her.
She belongs to Red. But what she does give me is so rich and wonderful that it's almost enough. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by horror of the thought of when she'll be done with me.
---Spike suddenly grips me tightly, and pulls me close to him, wrapping his arms around me. I don't understand as he crushes me against him, but I stroke his hair and hold him.
He doesn't say anything. And so, neither can I.
And then he lifts up his face and crushes his lips to mine and kisses me. Not soft and playful, not sensuously. Hard and desperate.
It feels like loss and hurt and goodbyes and it makes me cry.
---I can't make her promise not to leave me, because I know it will happen, know more certainly than I knew Dru would go one day and that Buffy would leave in the morning. I'm only borrowing her. And maybe that's why I kiss her. But I do. And I can't stop, until suddenly I feel tears on her face.
I pull back. Oh God. What have I done?
I smooth the hair back from her face, try to wipe the tear stains from her cheeks.
"Oh God, Tara, love, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I say.
She blinks back her tears.
"Why? What for?"
---
He stares at me.
"For kissing you. For-" He frowns. "Bloody hell, Tara, why were you crying then?""No, Spike, no it wasn't that. I…I don't, I didn't…It wasn't because you kissed me. It was just…" I shake my head. How can I explain the sense of loss I felt in that kiss. "It felt like you were saying goodbye," I whisper.
He looks away and is silent for a moment.
"Will have to, one day," he says quietly.
I nod and feel foolish. I knew he would go soon. That this was just temporary. I remind myself that he knew I would go too.
He doesn't look at me.
"Wasn't-" he stops and clears his throat. "Don't want to say goodbye."
He looks at me then, and I shake my head."I don't want to either," I say.
---
We lie there for a bit, not saying anything, just holding each other. There's not much to say. Don't want to think about what this means. Just feel this soft, warm body holding me. I feel her heart beating and feel her breath.
---This body, cool and hard against me, feels comforting and safe. And when I look up and see Spike's eyes, they are soft and understanding. Some sort of agreement was just made, but I'm not sure what it is or what it means. I do know that Spike's not going to leave now. And that makes me happy.
It's the next day when Harris comes to see me. He looks embarrassed and hands me a cream envelope with gold writing. A wedding invite.
"Well An's inviting De Hoffryn and all her demony type friends and relations and I figure I need to increase the evil quota on my side. There's my folks and Uncle Rory already, so if you came, I figured we'll be about even."
I nod and try to say something suitably flippant to show I don't care that I've been asked, even though I do. And Harris just nods and says, "Whatever, just try not to insult anyone on Anya's side."
Wonder if Tara's going.
---
Spike shows me the invitation.
"Um, that, that's good right?" I ask. And though he's been trying to act casual about it, he nods and gives me a rueful grin.
"Yeah, s'pose. Nice to be included. So, you goin'?"
I nod. My invitation came in the mail yesterday and Anya called as well to let me know that seeing as things were apparently on the way to reconciliation with Willow, she had decided to invite me. Thinking about Willow sends me into turmoil again. My date with her is tomorrow. Just thinking about it makes my stomach twist.
"What's wrong?" Spike asks. Somehow, Spike can always tell when I'm upset, I suppose he can sense when my heart starts to race or perhaps he can sense fear."My, my date with Willow is tomorrow," I say.
We haven't talked about Willow or Buffy or what that means to us. Because there is now, there's an Us. A tentative, undefined Us.
"You want to see her?" he asks.
I shake my head. "I…I don't know," I say. "No. Yes."
---
Something curls and growls in my guts. I bite back an acidic remark. I know how Tara feels about Red. After the other night though…I want to ask her where this is going. But I can't, because there's Buffy. Because if Buffy came bursting her way through my crypt door and told me to drop my pants, I would.
So, have got no right to be jealous.
Don't know what this thing me and Tara have now means though.
"Be yourself," I say unhelpfully. "And don't worry bout it. She's the one who has to worry. It's not you who's done the wrong thing."
---
It's on the tip of my tongue to ask, what about us? But I don't. Because, I don't know what I want. I know I don't want to lose what I have with Spike, but I…I can hardly believe or want to believe he would be an alternative to Willow. I have tried not to think about that concept. Because that would mean…so much change, and wanting something I haven't wanted before, wanting something I may not be able to have. It's easier to wish for the Willow I first met, than to want that other possibility.
"Um, the uh, wedding, are you going?" I ask, half to change the subject, because this thing is too uncomfortable to look at.
Spike shrugs and says coolly. "Free booze and food, why not. 'Sides, Slayer will be wearin' a pretty little dress I imagine. Might have myself a dance with the bridesmaid."
Oh. Buffy. I look down, reminded firmly about how Spike feels about Buffy.
---I know I've said the wrong thing, but I don't care. The jealous, gnawing feeling inside me stops me from biting back the spite-filled words. They spill out before I can stop them, cold and uncaring. I see Tara's head go down, her hair fall in front of her face, hiding her from me. And that's suddenly more terrible than the dead clawing feeling caused by her wanting Willow. And the knowledge that those few words I said could hurt her is wonderful and terrifying and awful all at once.
I reach out and push the hair away from her face. She won't look at me. Need to make this right.
"You're gonna go too, right love?" I ask. "Need you there to hold me hand pet, 'case people start getting all nice and family oriented on me."I see a glimmer of a smile but she doesn't raise her eyes to mine.
"I'm not nice and family oriented?" she asks shyly, and her tone is half-playful, half little girl lost. I get that thought again, minx.
---
He lifts up my chin and the look he gives me is positively indecent.
"Kitten, you are definitely NC17 material or an R at the very least."
His gaze drops and runs over my body, sending thrills through me, that I try to hide. And then his eyes return to mine and they aren't leering or seductive, there's a smile there and fondness and…something else, something desperate and hopeful and…I recognize myself.
"Can I play pet?" he asks and his voice is husky. I nod and he pulls me to lie down beside him. And then as he slides down my body, I hear him say, "too sexy too be nice."