Chapter Nineteen


Spike's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said," she smiled, "It's my love to give and I choose you."

"Does that mean--?"

"That I love you? Yes."

"I thought that you—that you weren't sure yet, that you needed time."

She nodded slowly. "It's all your fault for being . . . you."

Spike shook his head in wonder, "I knew, I just didn't think . . . "

"Think what? That I'd tell you? Or that I'd love you?"

"Both," he smiled goofily.

She smiled, "What's the point in not telling you?"

"I don't really know . . . Buffy, say it."

"I love you Spike."

"Use William."

"I love you William."

He broke out in a huge smile and cradled her face in his hands and kissed
her deeply, gliding his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her. She shivered and pressed herself against him, seeking the heat and comfort of his body.

She broke from the kiss when the state of his undress sunk in. She giggled.
"Spike, you're just sitting here with your pants around your ankles."

"So? It's just us."

She giggled again. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk? Now?"

"Yep, now. Come on, just around the block."

"What is it with you and being out at night?"

She smiled, "You're free. Alone. No one can see you, and you can see
everyone."

"If you look inside their houses," he teased. "Peeping tom."

She laughed, "Yep, that's me. Dusk and nighttime is my favorite time. It's

the part where I feel like can do anything, be anything. And now, I want to
share it with you."

Brushing some hair away from her face, Spike leaned in and kissed her
sweetly. "In that case, how can I say no?"

**************************************************************

Walking hand in hand, Spike and Buffy toured their block silently, listening
to the sounds around them—cars passing by, TV's blaring in people's
homes, crickets in the distance, the rustling of leaves from gentle breezes.

The couple found themselves lost in their own musings. Buffy was pondering the day and all they'd done. She felt her face get hot when she thought of the way she'd touched him. It was something she never thought she'd do. She'd told Doyle once that hell would freeze over before she went down on any guy. With Spike though, she found she was unable to stop herself. She wanted to know his taste, wanted to learn what pleased him and how it all worked. She wanted to blow his mind. No pun intended. She shook her head in wonder.

"What are you thinking about?" Spike asked, tugging on her arm to get her
attention.

She looked up at him, blushing. "Nothing."

He grinned, "That doesn't look like nothing. Can I guess?"

She didn't answer.

He laughed, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"Okay, good," she nodded abruptly and focused back on their walk.

"But you do feel all right with it?"

"With . . . what I did?"

He nodded.

"Well, yeah. I'm just . . . I'm kind of stunned with myself."

"Me too."

"Why are you stunned?" she asked curiously.

"You never struck me as the kind that would . . . do that. You never struck
me as a . . . well, a giver."

She burst out laughing. "It's funny because I know EXACTLY what you
mean. To be honest, I never thought of myself as a giver either."

"Not that you're selfish---" Spike backpedaled.

"No, but, I've never exactly been easy on men."

"Which works well in my favor," he grinned. "VERY well in my favor. I get
to be your first."


Buffy rolled her eyes, "And all guys just love that don't they?"

"To be the first? Well, yeah, I guess, but . . . " he stopped walking, which in
turn caused her to stop as well. She faced him, waiting patiently for what he
had to say. "For me this is like a rebirth."

"Rebirth? You and I being together is like a rebirth?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "I was with Drusilla and Drusilla only. All that time,
I wanted her to be you. Despite the fact that she knew it and held it over
my head. Despite how wrong it felt, I wanted to be loving you. My marriage
was hard, Buffy. It sucked up one side and down the other. This, with you .
. . It's making right what went wrong. I feel reborn."

"It's your do-over?"

"Yes, it's my do-over. And being able to experience it with you as your first
time makes it even more special. I'm finally with the girl I've loved since I
was seventeen years old. And the fact that she loves me too, and hasn't
given her heart or otherwise to anyone else—it means everything to me
Buffy."

She nodded, "It means everything to me too," she whispered. "If I seem
so . . . casual about everything or brave. . . I'm not. Inside, I'm terrified.
Being with you is. . . it's new for me. I've never met anyone that I wanted to
give my time and my heart to. Well, I had a crush on Doyle there for a
while, but we all know how that ended up. And, I didn't realize how
fortunate I was at the time when he told me. It was like the universe was
clearing a path to you. Like it was telling me that there was a guy that was
perfect for me . . . and here you are. Well, you were there all the time, but I
didn't know. . . and now I do. So if I mess up and do something wrong –"

"You won't—"

"I could. I'm sorry if I do in advance. I've never been in love before."

"We're even then, kitten. You're the only one I've ever loved."

"That makes you feel guilty doesn't it?"

"It does," he admitted.

"Drusilla was already sick," Buffy reminded him. "You didn't make her
worse, Spike. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else."

"I did make her worse," Spike sighed heavily, burrowing closer to her,
burying his face in her neck. "I did because I wanted this with you. God
help me Buffy, I'd do it all again to have you in my arms."

"Spike you have to stop doing this to yourself."

"I'm trying."

She wanted to tell him to ‘try harder'. But she couldn't be that cruel. She
was scared and her fear was starting to push its way to the surface. She
was afraid of what their parents were going to say and what others that
knew them would say. She needed him to be strong because by God, she
got more and more terrified the deeper they got into it. Her own feelings
overwhelmed her coupled with his feelings for her . . . It shook her to the
core. She wasn't one to walk away from a fight, from a challenge, and she
knew she had to fight on this one. She just wanted Spike to be able to fight
with her and she was beginning to wonder if he'd be able to when push
came to shove – and she saw lots of shoving coming up. She wondered if it
was his reaction she was worried about more when the shit hit the fan or if
she was worried about whether she'd really be able to whether the storm
with him. Would she be the one to crumble under pressure or would he?
Would he surprise her and fight? Would she weaken and walk away?

Looking up at him, at the love in his eyes as he gazed down at her, and the
way his arms felt so strong and right around her, she felt her heart swell
with love for him. No, she wouldn't weaken. How could she? She loved this
man before her. Loved him above all others and would love him above all
others for eternity. Buffy Summers didn't half ass it when it came to those
she cared about. And she more than just cared about Spike. She loved him
entirely. He'd been her everything before and he was her everything ten
fold now. But seeing the desperation lurking in his eyes--the plea to be fixed and to understand-- she had to wonder if
she'd be the one left standing.

Alone.
 

Chapter Twenty

"Spike?" Buffy asked later when they were snuggled and warm in his bed.

"Yeah, kitten?" he asked, stroking her back in the dark, her head tucked under his chin, her arm around his middle.

"When is your therapy appointment?"

"Monday at five."

"Can I go?"

He moved slightly so that he could look down at her, "You want to go?'

She nodded. "Do you not want me to go?"

"I don't think you can go in with me or anything—"

"That's okay. I just want to go and support you."

She could barely make out his face, but she knew the look he had on his
face. The look of awe mixed with adoration; the one that made her want to
weep.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You don't have to thank me. Even though this is for you, we're in it
together, you know what I mean?" she asked and snuggled back into him.

"I do. Thanks just the same."

"Spike?"

"Kitten?"

"Say you and I weren't step siblings. Say we had just met out in the world
somewhere like most people do."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"Say Drusilla was never in the picture and when I met you at fourteen and
you were seventeen . . . would you have felt wrong?"

"I don't . . . Probably would have felt a little fucked, yes."

"Three years isn't a much of a difference."

"It is when you're seventeen."

"What about all those seniors that dated freshman?" she countered.

He chuckled lightly, "Good point."

"The fact is, you weren't ‘sullying' me to be lusting after me at seventeen.
So we take age out of the equation completely."

"Is this how we're going to do it then? Process of elimination until there's no more problem?"

"Because there ISN'T a problem. The sooner you grasp that, the happier
we'll be. The more we'll be able to move on."

"Why are you with me?" he whispered. "You could be with someone that
isn't your step brother, that isn't . . . broken."

"Because I love you, that's why I'm with you. Spike, I'm scared."

"Of what, Buffy? Tell me what dragon to slay for you and I will," he
promised and caressed the side of her face.

"Your hang ups are my dragons," she whispered, fearful to tell him.

His hand stilled and dropped, "What?"

"Being here with you like this is . . . at the risk of sounding like every
romantic comedy, namely the one with Matthew Perry that I can't
remember the name – You're everything I never knew I always wanted."

"But," he supplied when silence fell.

"But I'm afraid of what will happen when Mom and Giles come home."

He started. "You don't want to tell them right away do you?"

She shook her head, "No. But we will have to tell them eventually and it's
that fear I know is written all over your face that scares me. Therapy isn't
going to work miracles overnight, Spike. So unless you can purge the guilt
and dirtiness you've carried with you for the past six years in a couple
sessions, I'm thinking we've got some work to do here." She moved so that
she was kneeling before him, hands on her thighs.

Spike propped himself up against his headboard and leaned over to his
nightstand, turning his lamp on. Both squinted for a minute as they
adjusted to the light. They stared at each other for a long time, Buffy
waiting, Spike thinking.

"You think I'm going to give up. Give you up," he stated.

"Yes," she said honestly.

"I won't."

"That's not something you can promise."

"How do you figure?"

"Because it's not real yet."

He looked indignant. "What do you mean it's not real yet?"

"I mean, Mom and Giles aren't here. We've been living in a bubble for the
past couple days Spike. In this bubble, the outside world doesn't exist. The
rules changed when Mom and Giles left. Like this," she gestured between them, "We're just Buffy and Spike. A couple in love. When Mom and Giles
come back; the dynamic changes again."

"Unless we tell them, you mean."

"No, not even if we tell them. It'll always be there Spike. We'll always be
stepsiblings as long as my mother is married to your father. We'll always be
their kids. Mom will always consider you the son she never had and Giles
will always consider me the daughter he never had. The question I'm
posing to you is: Will you be able to handle it?"

"Will you?" he asked in retaliation.

"I'm prepared to," she said resolutely.

His eyes narrowed, "Are you now? They're not here, remember? Easy to
say when they're not here and we're living in a ‘bubble'."

"I'm aware of the reality," she bit back.

"And suddenly you're cured of your own hang-ups?" He asked snidely.

She felt her anger bubble up inside her; she didn't appreciate his tone. "I
admit, I have my hang ups about it, I did from the get go when I realized I
had feelings for you, but they are fading faster by the minute every second
I'm with you." She shook her head, climbing off the bed and narrowing her
eyes at him, "You've been carrying yours around for a lot longer than I
have. You've had it ingrained in you how wrong it is; how dirty it is. Drusilla
fucked with your head, YOU fucked with your head. Your baggage is a lot
bigger than mine; you've got carry-on with your baggage. So don't start
getting snippy with me.
I'm trying to be honest with you and tell you how I feel. You're not the only
one that's allowed to be scared here Spike. I don't know a lot about
relationships seeing as how I haven't been in many – or any at all—but I do
know that it takes two. Seeing as how you're the other part here, you're
kind of the one I'm hoping to lean on to get through it.
I know there's a light at the end of this tunnel, but I'm allowed to get scared
once in a while and have doubts. That's where you come in. I'm trying my
best to be strong here for you. For us. But I can't do it on my own. And
what scares me is that I might have to." Her eyes welled up in tears and
she let out a growl of frustration. "God, I hate to cry!" she exclaimed. "This
is all your fault. I never cried until all this started and I don't like it!" She
swiped at her eyes. "I'm going to Doyle's," she said and spun on heel
walking away from Spike and trying to tamper down the tears that were so
insistent on gathering.

She hadn't gotten far down the hall when Spike's hand clamped around her
arm and he practically yanked her back to him.

Her eyes were flashing as she spun to face him.

"You want this to be a two way street? Then you don't get to run off to
Doyle every time it gets a little rough with us," he ground out.

She struggled to get her arm free, but Spike was having none of it. Instead,
he hauled her up to him and crashed his lips to hers, kissing her breath
away.

When he broke to let them both breathe, his hold loosened and he pressed
his forehead against her, panting for air. One hand cupped the back of her
head, keeping her in place while his other arm wrapped around her waist.

"Don't run away from me. I don't want you to run to Doyle every time
there's a problem. I'm glad you told me how you felt. Glad because . . . God,
Buffy, I didn't know. I didn't know and it shocked me, stunned me . . .
frightened me to know you were just as scared as I was. All this time I've
been leaning on you for support. I've been relying on your strength to get
me through and I realize that you need me to be strong too. That you're
afraid and for different reasons. You're afraid I'll leave you. I won't. I love
you. No, I can't promise that I'm not going to crumble a few times and
probably stumble and fall a few times on the way, but so will you. And
you're right. We have to do it together, not apart. I'm sorry I've been
leaning on you to get us through this, I'm sorry I've made you had to carry
me and my issues—"

She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger to her lips.

"Don't. Don't make excuses for me or for you. We're both stumbling
through this and one of us cannot carry the load. I get that now. I get what
you've been trying to tell me. I was clinging to you, hoping that your
strength would rub off on me and make me strong. I can't do that to you,
though. How could I? That's selfish and unfair of me. If I'm going to be
worthy of your love Buffy then I have to carry some of this too. I can't
make you do it all on your own and expect you to be okay with it." He
stopped short and swallowed a sob. He cradled her face in his hands,
studying her tenderly. "You've never been in love before. And out of
everyone to fall in love with, you chose me. That knocks me on my ass
Buffy," he chuckled nervously. "I've been in love with you for years, and
you've just realized what it means to be in love and have someone love you
back. You've got that on top of Mom, Dad and me to think about—"

"Don't make me out to be some kind of martyr here, Spike. I don't want to
be one. I just . . . I just want . . . "

"Tell me baby, tell me what you want," he cooed, nuzzling her cheek.

"I just want you. I want your demons to go away, I want you to be
comfortable in your own skin. I want you to be comfortable and free loving
me. I want to be comfortable and free loving you. I just want you, Spike."

"You have me," he breathed and kissed her deeply, passionately. She clung
to him because if she didn't, she'd fall from the force of his love and passion.
And he let her cling to him.

He held her up, supported her, kept her from falling from the dizzying
effect he had on her.

She hoped to God that meant something.



 

Interlude

"Kitten . . . wake up, my little kitten. . . " Spike sing-songed softly as he gently nudged her knees apart and glided her leg over his lap.

It was morning and Spike had awoken feeling peckish. After all the talking
they'd done the night before, the both of them had gone back to bed feeling
emotionally and physically exhausted. It hadn't been the right time for him
to teach her more things. Now, however, hours before their parents were
due back, he wanted nothing more than feast himself on her taste and scent. His cock was painfully hard just thinking about it. He'd woken up to her on her side, an arm across his torso, sleeping peacefully. He wanted his angel.

She stirred and fought wakefulness and he grinned. He pecked her nose thinking that it'd be difficult to not wake up with her like this after spending the weekend with her in his bed. He was really going to have to find a place of his own soon. That way they'd have their privacy and it'd tamp down the awkward factor when it came to their parents. Maybe she'd move in with him.

Maybe he needed to slow down and take things one step at a time first.

"Luv, wake up for me. . . want you, baby. Show me those beautiful eyes."

She burrowed further into his chest.

"You asked for it," he whispered and slithered a hand between them.
Skimming over her breasts through her tank top and splaying his hand
wide over her flat stomach where the tank had ridden up, he moved his
hand further down. Dipping inside her shorts, he gently caressed her soft
skin and moved his hand further down until he felt the curls that guarded
her sex. Deftly, he slid a finger along her slit. She was wet already. Could it
be possible that this was the affect from just sleeping beside him? His eyes
rolled up in his head at the thought. It would even the scales. He found he
was almost always at least semi hard around her.

Her eyes flew open.

He grinned, "There she is."

"Wh—what are you doing to me?"

"Touching you baby," he cooed and leaned in, kissing her as his finger idly
stroked along her sex. He broke away so they could breathe, "Do you
mind?"

She wrinkled her nose, "You kissed me while I have morning breath."

He chuckled, "I don't care. I have it too."

She gasped when his finger swirled around her clit, "Spike." She grabbed
onto his arm, holding him for support. "Ooohhh."

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it. You're so wet for me . . . " he breathed hotly,
nuzzling her neck. "Will you let me taste?"

Her eyes widened, "What?"

"Want to eat my Buffy all up. Will you let me?" he tweaked her clit as
incentive.

"Oh Jesus," she gasped.

"No, ‘oh Spike'," he teased.

She tried to shoot him a withering glare, but it wasn't working. Her lids
were hooded, but hooded with desire and need. She nodded, though he
wondered if it was because she was really all right with him going down on
her or if it was out of the desperate need for release. He swiftly detracted
his hand from her core. She whimpered and it was music to his ears. She
wanted his touch.

"Gonna take care of you, Buffy," he whispered and kissed her, letting his
lips glide from his mouth to her chin and down her neck. His hands rested
on the hem of her tank, his hands caressing the skin there. He looked up at
her in question. "May I?"

She nodded, biting her lip. He lifted her tank over the tops of her breasts
and then eased it over her head and discarded it with her help.

"Ahh. . . now this is a good morning," he murmured and leaned in, swirling
his tongue around one nipple while cupping the other and stroking his
thumb over it, feeling it pebble under his touch. She moaned and a tremble
went through her. He grinned and switched his attention to the other
breast, knowing how hot this got his girl. He was sure she was unaware of
how her hips undulated against him, craving friction.

Not wanting her to cum yet, he released her breast from his mouth with a
wet plop and proceeded down her body, kissing and caressing every inch.

"Spike," she moaned, a hint of frustration laced through her tone.

He grinned against her skin," Ssshh…I'll take care of that itch, baby."

Rearing up so that he was on his knees before her, he held her gaze as he
eased her shorts down her hips and legs. She bit her lip as she watched him
and he saw slight fear pass over her features. Next came the panties and
she reached for the sheet to cover herself almost immediately after they
had been discarded. He stopped her, shaking his head.

"No, sweetness. Don't hide from me. Got to see this beautiful . . . " he gazed
down at her, drinking her in. "My God, you're gorgeous."

She blushed prettily and looked away from his admiring gaze.

"No, don't turn away from me like that. Buffy, baby, look at me."

She looked up at him slowly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"You really need to get out more," she said quickly.

He shook his head, "Your defenses are going up."

"You're staring at me while I'm buck ass naked. No one's ever—"

"And no one ever will but me."

"Well, it's the first time for me and – could you come down here now?" She
held up her arms, coaxing him into them. He leaned down and braced his
hands on either side of her head, kissing her quickly. Before she could pull
him closer, he set up camp between her thighs.

"This is where I want to be right now," he said huskily and blew on her sex.


She twitched. Leaning up on her elbows, she watched him with a mixture of
uncertainty and curiosity.

He grinned up at her and gently spread her nether lips with his fingers,
giving her long and leisurely lick up, gathering her juices on his tongue.
"Mmmm…" he moaned, closing his eyes.

A small tremor went through her and she gasped. "Th—that tastes good?"
she asked, her eyes wide.

"Delicious. Want a taste?"

He eyes widened even more. "No!"

He chuckled and strummed his tongue against her clit.
"Oh God," she whispered.

"So good, baby," he murmured appreciatively and gently stuck the tip of
his finger inside her, not wanting to overwhelm her with what he was doing.


"What are you doing to me?" she whimpered, her head falling back onto the
bed, her elbows no longer supporting her.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes."

"Then that's what I'm doing."

"Does it do anything for you?"

"If you only knew," he replied and licked her again. He leisurely alternated
between licking her and swirling his tongue around her nub. When he could
tell she was on the edge by the way her breath was coming out in pants and
her limbs were growing taut and straight, he slid his finger inside further
and sucked hard on her clit. She exploded in his mouth, shouting her
orgasm by calling his name and he greedily lapped up all she had to offer,
sending her quickly into another orgasm.

"Spike, no more, I can't take it," she whimpered.

He prowled up her body, leaving soft kisses on her body in his wake. Buffy
wrapped her arms around him, bringing him close to her.

"Feel all right kitten?" he asked soothingly as he stroked her back.

She nodded against him, letting out a small yawn.

"Tired, baby?" he murmured against her shoulder, peppering her with
kisses.

"Yes," she admitted, looking up at him with sated green eyes.

"Sleep. I'll hold you okay?"

Snuggling up to him, she kissed him softly. "That was the most intense
experience of my life," she mumbled.

He smiled. "There's many more where that came from. In time."

She nodded, "I love you," she whispered before closing her eyes and
drifting off. Spike watched her for a long time as he slept, caressing her
skin, and rolling her taste on his tongue. He wanted to stay just this way
forever. In her arms, basking in her warmth and her love. This was all he
had ever wanted.

"I will not let you go," he promised her. "Never."


 

Chapter Twenty One

"So, I'm here for what? A decoy?" Doyle asked Buffy later that day as they watched TV in the living room. Spike had gone upstairs to make sure none of Buffy's unmentionables were left hanging around in his room.

She gave him an odd look. "You sound bitter."

"Good job Nancy Drew, glad you figured it out," Doyle muttered, turning away from her and starting blankly at the TV, his arms crossed against his chest.

She flicked off the TV. "All right. Spill. You're acting like me when I'm
PMSing. What is it?"

He looked at her like a petulant child. "You and Spike are together now and
I get shoved aside."

"Doyle—" she stared.

"But when you need someone to come over and what? Somehow disguise
the fact that you've been probably going at it like bunnies all weekend, I'm
okay to call and come over then."

"Would you rather we have called you when we were going at it like
bunnies?"

He glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Doyle, I'm sorry. I just . . . We
just . . . "

He waved his hand at her as if dismissing her. "I know. You're in the throes
of a new romance." His voice dropped and he started crooning the theme
song to the Love Boat to her. "The Love Boat! Exciting and new… come
aboard . . . we're expecting you.."

She grimaced, "I'm going to be sick."

"Oh my God! You're pregnant!" Doyle exclaimed.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "No, I'm not pregnant, jackass. First of all, you don't
know that quickly--"

"Duh."

"And second of all, the only way I would be is if it were Immaculate
Conception."

"So then you haven't—?"

"No, we haven't."

"My God, how were you able to restrain yourself? You have seen him
right?"

"Can you stop lusting after my boyfriend?"

Doyle shrugged, "I'm a red blooded American Gay Male. What do you
expect? It's okay though honey. I don't have a shot in hell. He's as straight
as an arrow."

Buffy started to laugh. Leaning over, she hugged him. "I have missed you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying. I did." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she strained to
make sure she didn't hear Spike nearby before she said, "I have things to
tell you."

"Like?"

"I can't tell you now."

"Okay, whenever you're ready."

"Am I getting shoved aside already?" Spike said, entering the room.

Buffy leaned away from Doyle and smiled up at him. "Nope. Doyle was
feeling neglected and I was trying to make him feel better."

"Not to worry Doyle, Buffy won't be replacing you," Spike assured him.

"Better not," Doyle said petulantly.

In the distance car doors were heard being slammed shut. Buffy and Spike
looked at each other and at the same time said, "Mom and Dad."

"Maybe if you both didn't call them ‘Mom and Dad' it might help the weird
factor," Doyle pointed out.

"I call Giles, Giles," Buffy pointed out.

"And I can't call Joyce, Joyce. She's been ‘Mum' since I was thirteen,"
Spike told him. "And she'd know something was up."

"I think she'll know something is up when she sees you stick your tongue
down Buffy's throat for the first time," Doyle pointed out.

"Doyle!" Buffy scolded.

"It's okay, Buffy. He's just pointing out the obvious," Spike told her.

"We're home!" Joyce's voice rang out.

"Spike! Can you help me carry the suitcases?" Giles shouted in after her.

"On it Dad!" Spike called back and quickly hugged Joyce before taking a
suitcase from Giles and placing it at the bottom of the stairs. Giles was
starting to trek back out when Spike placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've
got it Dad," and he rushed out to the car.

Giles turned to Buffy. "All right. What did he do?"

Buffy giggled, "Giles! He didn't do anything. That's awful to think."

Giles shrugged. "You do remember what he used to be like, correct? Hi
Doyle."

"Hi, Mr. Giles."

"Honestly Doyle, you can just call me ‘Giles' like Buffy does."

"Yes, sir," Doyle said cheekily and Giles shot him a mock glare.

"So, how did you kids get along this weekend?" Joyce asked.

"Mom, really, can you not call us ‘kids'? Spike is twenty-three and I'm
twenty. We're adults now," Buffy said rolling her eyes.

"So when are our adults going to be moving out?" Giles teased.

"Ha, ha."

"Well Miss Summers—" Doyle started.

"Joyce," Joyce corrected.

"Well, Joyce, I'm not going to lie to you. There was a rager here this
weekend. Not to worry though. We made those hoodlums clean up after
they puked all over your oriental."

Joyce went pale.

"He's kidding, Mom," Buffy told her and whacked Doyle on the arm.

"Hey, I bruise easy, watch it!"

"Can someone help me?" Spike said in the doorway, sounding as if his
mouth was stuffed with something.

Buffy rushed to help him. Poor Spike had two suitcases, a backpack and his
mouth was stuffed with some plastic bags.

"Mom, did you buy out L.A.?" Buffy asked, taking the bags from Spike's
mouth and smiling at him.

He smiled back and she resisted the urge to lean up and kiss him.

"It's not everyday a woman gets to go to L.A. to shop," Joyce said
indignantly.

"Did you shop or rob?" Doyle asked.


*****************************************************************

Buffy sat on her bed, listening for Spike to enter his bedroom. She was going nuts. After they'd all chatted and Joyce told them how successful the show and all the things her and Giles managed to do on their weekend trip, they'd retired to bed. Doyle had visited a while, but not allowing Buffy to have the chance to talk with him the way she longed to. She didn't have any girlfriends, so Doyle was pretty much it. He was officially her own private therapist and she felt the need to purge everything – minus the sexual adventures – to Doyle. Then again, she'd probably divulge some of that too.
Spike had gone out for a smoke and not wanting to follow him like a puppy, she'd stayed inside. But now, she wanted to be with him.

Hearing the sound of footsteps and then his door click shut, she bounded off her bed and out her window. Crawling to his window, she knocked lightly on the pane. He was nowhere to be seen, so she knocked again.

"Buffy?" she heard his voice whisper to her.

"Spike?"

"In your window."

She turned her head to find him with his head sticking out her window.

He grinned at her. "You move too fast. You must have been on your way to
me when I came for you."

"Let me in your room," she told him.

Nodding, he left the window. A second later he appeared before her,
smiling broadly. Lifting the window, he helped her crawl inside. When she
was safely inside, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

"I missed having you in my arms," he whispered and began peppering
kisses from her collarbone up to her cheek. He pulled back slightly and
kissed her. "Mmm…I've been wanting to do that for two hours."

"I know what you mean," she murmured, "I've been wanting you to do
that for two hours."

"Think they suspected anything?"

"No. Would you stop worrying so much? We have to tell them eventually
Spike."

"I know. I just wanted to wait for a while."

She knit her brows together. "How long is a ‘while'?"

"I want to have a few sessions first."

"Spike, a few sessions is three weeks—"

"Buffy, please. I know you're gung ho about telling them as soon as
possible, and in order for me to be as strong as you need me to be, I'm
going to need some time. I want to at least get my footing in therapy first.
Besides, I want to have you all to myself right now."

Settling herself down on his bed, she laid down, hugging a pillow to her and
inhaling his scent on it. She wanted to drag him down with her and cuddle
up with him.

He seemed to sense her need, because after quickly locking his door, he
stretched out beside her and brought her in the haven of his arms. She
sighed in relief.

"We'll tell them Buffy. Soon. Can we just take it one step at a time?"

"I hate sneaking around. It makes the whole thing seem like some dirty
secret, Spike. I don't want us to be a dirty secret."

"We won't be. I'm just asking for some time. Three weeks tops, okay?"

She sighed heavily, "Okay."

"We'll find ways to be together. They're always going on about how they
want us to be close."

Buffy snorted.

"So, if we hang out more than usual, they'll just think we've bonded."

"I want to be able to bond while I fall asleep every night," she said honestly.
"I know it sounds strange, but after just two days of being in your bed with
you, I – I got used to it. It felt so right. I swear I've never slept as well as I
do in your arms."

"Buffy, what you do to me. . ." he rasped and buried his face in her hair. "It
doesn't sound strange at all. I feel the same way. Want you in my arms all
the time, I do. Used to imagine you there . . . "

"You did?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"Promise me it'll happen soon," Buffy said, hating the plead in her voice.

"It'll happen soon. I promise."

 

Chapter Twenty Two

"Just be patient with him, Buffy," Doyle advised as he drove her over to meet Spike at his first therapy session the next day.

"So you don't think just telling our parents what's going is best?"

"Oh no, I do. I do think you should tell them. I'm hoping he'll come around
sooner than three weeks. However, given his fragile state, I think Spike
might actually need that time to screw his head on tight and gather his
courage about him."

Buffy looked at him with a wry smile, "'Gather his strength about him'?"

Doyle shrugged, "Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Actually it does, Dr. Doyle."

"Not studying psychology just for shits and giggles you know. I actually do
plan to use it."

"As well you should considering all the help you've given me. And Spike in a
roundabout way."

"What are best friends for? Not to be shoved aside, I can tell you that."

"Never, ever Doyle," Buffy promised.

As Doyle pulled into the parking lot of the building Spike had given her
directions to, Buffy started to shake.

"I'm nervous," she told Doyle.

"Of what?"

"What if the therapist tells Spike he's sick? What if she tells him that we're
both sick and perverted? What if he ends up getting set back instead of
moving forward? She could be corrupted, out to get him. Don't corrupt
doctors prey on the weak?" she ranted as Doyle put the car in a spot and
turned it off.

"Only when they want to have sex with them," Doyle said seriously.

Buffy whacked him on the arm. "I'm serious here!"

"I know, I'm sorry. You know what I just heard in that rant?" Doyle asked
and turned to her.

"What?"

"I heard you say that it could be the doctor saying he's sick and that you're
both twisted. You know what that says to me?"

"Doyle, honestly, I'm not in the mood to try and piece together my rants
and what they mean."

"You put it on the doctor, not you or him. You haven't alluded to either of
you being sick or perverted or wrong since . . . well, since you crazy kids
finally told each other how you felt. That says to me that you KNOW it's not
wrong or sick or perverted and that if anyone thinks so, it's on them and
not on either of you. That's what that rant said to me."

"You would read into something like that," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"It's what I do," Doyle shrugged.

"Well don't stop doing it."

****************************************************************

"You made it," Spike said, smiling down at Buffy and bringing her close.

After her pep talk from Doyle, she'd rushed inside the building to meet Spike who was standing inside the foyer of the large building, looking awkward and out of place.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. "Told you I
would."

"Doyle give you a ride?"

She nodded, "Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. He's a good, trustworthy friend."

"Who passes no judgment," she chimed in.

"Right. So, let's do this then."

"Where is it?"

"Third floor."

"Nervous?"

Spike nodded, not saying anything as he led her to the elevator with him.

Once inside, they were alone and Buffy took a good look at him; at the fear
in his eyes, at how taut with tension his body was.

She wrapped her arms around him once more and buried her face in his
chest. "Tell me, what are you nervous about? Is it the talking part? Or
what she'll say?"

"Both. I just, I don't know what to expect. I've only had limited contact
with doctors on a personal level. Most of my dealings with therapists were
for trying to understand Dru and . . . and getting her committed."

She looked up at him, caressing the side of his face in a calming manner.
"Not everyone knows what to do. Not everyone is brave enough to admit
when they need help."

"And God knows I need help, right?"

The elevator doors chimed and a second later they opened. Buffy squeezed
him once tightly before letting him go. Together they walked out of the
elevator and took an immediate right, following the numbers outside office
doors until they found the one that was right.

Spike grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly as they entered the waiting
room together. Walking up to reception, he gave his name and was handed
some papers to fill out. He turned to Buffy and gave her a nervous, lopsided
smile, "This is it then."

And when the doctor came for him, a woman by the name of Tara McClay,
Spike leaned over and kissed Buffy's forehead. "And so it begins," he
whispered.

******************************************************************

"Was that your girlfriend?" Tara asked once the door was closed and she gestured for him to sit on the red vinyl chair against the wall. Tara took the chair across from him, curling her legs under her and placing her notebook on her lap.

"Yes," Spike said.

"What's her name?"

"Buffy."

Tara nodded and smiled. "Different."

"She's different all around. She's special, my Buffy," Spike said fondly,
grinning boyishly. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting.

"Now William—"

"Spike. I prefer Spike."

"Very well then. Spike. I want you to know that whatever we say here,
stays here."

"Patient confidentiality and all that rot?"

Tara smiled, "Yes. And all that ‘rot'."

"Sorry doc, don't mean to offend."

"You didn't. I don't offend easy."

"What's that like?"

"What?"

"To not offend easy?"

"I take it you do then."

"Offend easy?"

Tara nodded.

"I do. Well, I guess it depends on what we're talking about."

"Give me an example of something that offends you easily."

Spike chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I guess its not that I offend easily, I
just . . . I…"

"Take your time Spike."

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head, making the curls
spring forth. "I feel weak. I feel that . . . I don't feel strong."

"Is that why you called to make an appointment?"

"Yes. That and to maybe find some peace with what happened with my ex
wife."

"Let's start at the beginning then, shall we?"

He nodded, still fidgeting.

She grabbed his papers, the one with the family information on them. She
looked up at him, "So. Buffy is –"

"My stepsister. No blood between us at all. She's my step mother's
daughter."

There was no expression on Tara's serene face as she simply said,
"Interesting."

 

Chapter Twenty – Three

Buffy tapped her foot incessantly against the carpeted floor of the waiting room. The receptionist looked in and smiled reassuringly at her and Buffy slowed down her tapping for a minute before starting up full speed again.

She couldn't concentrate. She'd tried picking up a magazine and reading it and got maybe halfway through a paragraph before she realized she hadn't retained any of it. She stared at the dull framed pictures of landscapes on the walls, the cream colored walls and the gray carpet counting the black squares in it. Her mind wandered to how drab it all was and how it needed sprucing up. The scenery did not match what little she had seen of Dr. McClay.

She glanced up at the clock across the room. Soon. Soon he'd be out.

"Dr. McClay is very good at what she does," the receptionist told her.

Buffy's head jerked up and she nodded slowly. "How old is she? Can you
tell me that?"

"She's young, but wise beyond her years. At least, she's young compared to
me," the woman smiled. "He's in good hands."

"It's that obvious huh?" Buffy asked sheepishly.

"I've seen a lot over the years," the receptionist replied.

Buffy nodded, "Thanks."

"No problem."

Her tapping stopped and she stared off at nothing wondering if this
nervous feeling was something that Spike had felt when he'd had to bring
Drusilla the first time. She wondered how it must have felt for him when
they told her it was best for her to be admitted. And Drusilla. How had it
felt for her? Did she know she wasn't right? Had she grown up with it or
was it something that had struck her suddenly? Buffy found herself feeling
sorry for the woman. Her original stance had been to hate her for trying to
drag Spike down with her, but when faced with something like a mental
breakdown the likes of which Drusilla had – would she do the same thing?
Misery loves company, the saying goes. Doesn't the misery seem less if you
have another to share it with you? And what better way to feel in control of
a losing battle than to know you've taken someone down with you on the
way.

Buffy shivered at the thought just as the door opened and Spike came out.
She looked up at him and he smiled. "Hi."

"Hi," she greeted him softly and stood, unsure if she should go to him or
give him some breathing room.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asked.

She nodded, studying him. He didn't look to her as someone that had just
got read the riot act. He looked calm. Looks could be deceiving though, so
nothing was certain as of yet.

"Come on," he waved her over as he opened the door to the hall and they
stepped out.

She looked up at him as the door clicked shut behind him. He nodded for
her to follow him and off he went.

"Spike?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah?"

"How'd it go?"

"Good."

They stepped into the elevator and he pushed the button for their floor
and leaned his back against the wall casually.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Do you want me to give you the play by play? I don't want to do that
Buffy."

She was hurt by that even though she knew that what he said to Dr.
McClay was personal and he didn't have to tell her.

"I know and you don't have to," she said slowly. "I just want to know if
maybe you told her. . . "

"About us?"

She nodded.

"I did. She said ‘Interesting'."

Buffy raised a brow, "She said ‘Interesting'. That's it?"

"Yes. We talked about families. Dad. Mom. My real mom, the death of my
real mom. . . all of that family stuff."

"So it was . . . okay?"

"Well, it's too early to tell how well it'll go and what she can do for me. But I
like her. I have more faith than I did when I first called."

"That's good," Buffy said, feeling hope.

The elevator dinged and opened. Stepping out, Spike took her hand and
kissed the back of it. She inwardly sighed with relief. His noncommittal and
distant demeanor had been worrying her.

"It's just . . . you know when you talk about things you haven't put much
thought into for a long time and it kind of leaves you feeling . . . well,
thoughtful?"

She nodded.

"That's how I feel right now. I haven't thought about my real mom in ages.
I never really allowed myself to and talking about her . . . brought some
memories back."

"Good ones?"

"Yes, good ones. And, some sad when I think of when she got sick . . . Do
you ever think of your real dad?"

The question caught her off guard though it probably shouldn't have
considering the topic of conversation.

She blinked at him, regaining her equilibrium a bit as images of the man
who'd abandoned her so long ago came surging up in her minds eye.

"Not really. He wasn't much of a dad when he was there to begin with. We
share blood, not a bond. Giles is my Dad," she told him.

Opening the car door for her, she climbed in and waited for him to come
around. He smiled at her as he slid in beside her. "I'm not going to break,
Buffy," he told her.

She looked away from him, "I know," she mumbled.

"I know you were just as nervous as me today," he told her. "Look at me
please, Buffy."

She looked back to him and met his gaze.

"I have a good feeling. Better than I have in a long time," he admitted.

"Was it scary when you had to take Drusilla to the doctor?" Buffy asked
hesitantly.

"It was," he nodded, looking down.

"Did she know?

"That she was sick?" he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded.

"I think so. When she was lucid anyway, I think she knew. She was scared
too."

Silence fell and Spike started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and
started on his way home.

Buffy leaned her head back and stared up at the roof of the car as he
drove. She closed her eyes. "So you talked about when we met?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Spike, I love you."

"I know you do, kitten. I love you too."

"I know," she whispered and let her mind wander.



FLASHBACK



Buffy had just gotten home from baseball practice. She was hot, sweaty
and probably on the gross side, but she was dying to tell Spike how she'd
managed to hit a homerun during a scrimmage. He was, after all, the one
who had helped her hitting by pitching the ball to her at the park the past
weekend. She'd been having a hitting slump and the more frustrated she
got over it, the worse it became. Spike had helped her though. He made her
laugh, taught her how to relax and not focus on it and soon, she'd been a
hitting machine. Whipping off her hat on the couch, and kicking off her
cleats, she ran up the stairs calling his name.

His door was slightly open and she barged in, "Spike, guess what, I hit a
homerun—crap! Sorry!"

He was on his bed in a lip lock with the latest flavor of the month. She
couldn't even remember what this ones name was. He was going to kill her
this time for sure.

Buffy spun on heel, slammed the door shut behind her, and barreled into
her room before Spike could come after her and ream her out for barging
into his room AGAIN.

She started gathering some clean clothes to take down to the bathroom
with her so she could shower when she heard yelling from his room. She
couldn't help but strain to her; she was a curious fifteen year old. Hell, she
was just nosy.

"She's always ruining our good time, Spike! She comes in and you feel like
you have to run off to tend to her. She's fifteen for Christ's Sake; you don't
have to take care of her. She can take care of herself!" his girlfriend was
yelling at him.

Buffy glared at the wall.

"She had practice after school and she's been really nervous about the
hitting slump she's been in," Spike defended her.

"You're more interested in going after that tomboy than getting some
action from me?" the girl laughed scornfully.

"Don't talk about Buffy like that," Spike snapped.

"Like what? It's the truth isn't it? She's a freaking tomboy. My little sister
goes to school with her. She says that your darling little sister can beat up
the boys like a pro. According to my sister, her habits are deplorable. She's
disgusting—"

"Get the fuck out of my house right now," Spike said so coldly, Buffy felt
the cold front sweep through her room from his. Her eyes widened. He was
really going to throw her out? She wasn't exactly lying about her habits;
her mother was always telling her that she needed to act like more of a
lady. Hell, Spike told her the same thing at times. However, that was
usually after she'd beat him in a burping contest.

"Spike!" the girl protested.

"Get out! You don't talk about my sister like that, ever."

Apparently the girl was leaving as Buffy heard the distinct sound of
stomping reverberate through the house, shaking the floors and walls. The
door slamming punctuated the open hostility at being ordered to leave.

Buffy went to her door and opened it a crack to see if Spike was around.

"Hi, kitten."

Buffy eeped and jumped back as Spike appeared suddenly before her.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Can I come in?" he asked, smiling gently at her.

She nodded and opened her door wider.

He strolled in and sat down on her bed. "So, you hit a homerun?" he asked
casually as if he hadn't just told his current flame to get the fuck out of the
house; as if they were just continuing a conversation from earlier.

She blinked at him, "Uh, yeah."

His head tilted to the side and he gestured to the wall separating their
rooms. "You heard all that?"

"Kind of hard not to," she told him honestly.

He stood and came over to her, swiping a hand across her cheekbone,
brushing off the dirt that rest there. He chuckled, "You're a mess."

She smiled wryly, "Thanks. Spike, you didn't have to tell her to get out. It's
not like she's lying about me—"

"Not the point Buffy. She was rude." He shrugged then, nonchalantly. "I
was tired of her anyway."

Buffy gave him a look, "Oh really?" she asked, putting her hands on her
hips.

He copied her, teasing her, "Yes, really."

"But Spike, aren't you more interested in getting some action from her
than spending time with a tomboy like me?" she teased, only half serious.

"I'd rather spend time with you, Buffy," Spike told her seriously. "Don't
you know that you're my most favorite person?"

She smiled, her insides melting. "I am?"

"When you're not being disgusting," he grinned.

She slugged him playfully on the arm and laughed.

He sat back down on her bed. "So tell me about this homerun."

END FLASHBACK

Buffy rolled her head to look at Spike as he drove them home. He was always there, always. It had always been him. She wondered how she'd managed to miss it all those years. Sliding closer to him, she rested her head lightly on his shoulder.

"What's that then, Kitten?"

"I just love you."

He smiled and quickly kissed her forehead. "Love you too baby."


 

Chapter Twenty – Four

Later that night, Buffy crawled out of her window and sat up on the roof, chatting with Doyle on her cell. Spike had been inside talking with Joyce and Giles about how he'd decided to seek help from all that had happened with Drusilla.

She hadn't expected him to tell them, but at dinner, he'd just spilled forth
with the information. She'd been wondering what else was going to come out of his mouth. She sat there and listened to him, smiling encouragingly at him. Her mother had welled up in tears and Giles had started clearing his throat a lot. It was then that Buffy had decided he probably needed some alone time with them.

Drusilla hadn't been mentioned by either parent since his return and she figured that this could be part of the healing process involving their parents. If it was out in the open and not ignored and swept under the rug for fear of hurt feelings and judgments being passed, then healing could begin.

"So, he finally asked you out?" Buffy asked Doyle.

"Yes, the big oaf finally asked. Like I didn't already know he was going to."
She could practically see Doyle rolling his eyes. "So, what did you say?"

"Well, I finally let him get around to asking, I said no thank you."

"What do you mean when you finally let him get around to asking?" Buffy
giggled again.

Doyle launched into the stalling techniques he'd used on Riley earlier that
day, when like she had a honing beacon where Spike was concerned, she
felt him nearby.

Sure enough, when she glanced over her shoulder she found him climbing
out the window to join her. She smiled at him and he grinned back as he sat
himself down next to her.

Doyle was ranting still and she didn't want to cut him off and yet at the
same time she wanted to find out how it went with Spike and their parents.

Spike in the meantime, took it upon himself to tease her. Leaning in, he
nuzzled her neck with his lips and peppered her collar bone with kisses. She
tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh. Spike nipped at her
earlobe and sucked lightly on her neck while his other hand skimmed
across her stomach and settled on her waist, pulling her closer to him.
When she was sufficiently close enough by his standards, and she could feel
the heat of his body, his hand made a leisurely path to her chest where he
cupped her breast in his hand lightly.

"Then I told him I was sorry but no thank you," Doyle finished on an
exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, that's good," Buffy murmured, her skin breaking out in goosebumps
when Spike's fingers expertly teased her nipple to a point.

"Spike's right there with you isn't he?" Doyle said dryly.

She sat up a bit straighter and pushed Spike's hand off her breast. He
growled at her and nipped at her neck.

"Doyle, I was listening. I really was."

"Did I hear him just GROWL?"

"Yes," she said meekly.

"My God that's sexy. Go see to him would you?" and he clicked off.

She laughed and clicked the phone off settling it carefully next to her
before launching herself at Spike. She pushed him down on the roof and
attacked him with ravenous kisses. Straddling him about the waist she sat
up and smiled down at him.

"How'd it go with Mom and Giles?" she asked.

His eyes widened. "You're straddling me and you're thinking of that?" he
thrust his hips upwards so she could feel the erection he was sporting in the
crack of her ass.

She gasped and her eyes widened. She hit him lightly on the chest, "Spike!"
she admonished him.

"What do you expect?" he grinned. "When you're on top of me . . . or
kissing me. . . or just looking at me—"

She blushed profusely and looked away. A second later she found herself
mashed up against his hard chest with his arms around her waist holding
her to him. He was nuzzling the side of her face when he answered. "It went
fine."

"Did Mom cry and launch into her ‘I'm so proud of you, you're such a fine
boy, the son I never had' speech?"

Spike chuckled, "She did."

"And did Giles clean his glasses so often he nearly made a hole in them?"

Spike laughed and she could feel the vibrations against her stomach.
Hearing him laugh was such a great sound that she found herself laughing
along with him.

"He did," Spike finally answered.

"We should get inside before they come out here," Buffy whispered.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah," he said
fondly. "Don't really want to though."

"Nor do I, but until we tell them . . . " she trailed off.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered and leaned up, kissing her softly. "Soon," he
promised.


Leaving Buffy to go to her own room had been difficult. He wanted her in
bed with him, to hold her and have the comfort of her presence. Therapy
had indeed left him thoughtful. Made him think of things that he'd tried not
to think of for so long. Not only his mother, but of Buffy too. All of those
precious memories he'd tried not to dwell on because somehow Dru had
always known.

FLASHBACK

"I look like . . . like . . . " Buffy's muffled voice sounded through the door to her bedroom.

Spike raised his eyebrows as he meandered up the stairs.

"A girl?" Joyce supplied tersely.

Spike chuckled, "What's going on in there?"

"Buffy has a sports banquet to attend this weekend, honoring the achievements of those involved in sports throughout the year. The star pitcher for the boys baseball team asked her if she'd attend with him and she amazingly, agreed."

Spike's jaw clenched and he tried his best to act nonchalant. The idea of some grubby git with his paws on Buffy made his gut clench. "What's his name?"

"Angel," Joyce replied. Spike smirked, "Angel? What a ponce."

The door flew open and there stood a gorgeous torrent of anger. "He is NOT a ponce. He's amazing. He had three no hitters in a row this past season I'll have you know," she informed Spike.

Spike stared at her, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him.

Joyce gasped, "Buffy, you look so beautiful."

Buffy was studying Spike curiously, "You're staring at me. I look awful don't I?"

Joyce's attention snapped to him and he shook his head. "No, luv, you don't look awful. You look beautiful. You really do." Bleedin' gorgeous is what you are, he thought.

Buffy looked down at herself uncertainly. She wore a shiny satin black flared skirt and a matching dressy tank top with blues, greens and black swirled into it. Her well defined arms and chest were visible for once, but the look was not trashy in the least. She looked like a Diva. The greens and blues in the tank brought her eyes to the forefront and her hair falling in wavy cascades framed her face. Spike knew that Joyce would make her put makeup on and that when she did, Buffy would look utterly breathtaking. She did already.

"When's this banquet?" Spike asked.

"This weekend. Saturday." Joyce told him as she fussed a bit with the skirt and tank while Buffy scowled at her.

"I'm coming."
Buffy's eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm coming," he said simply. He told himself to walk away before the
questions started but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was look his fill of her.
His hands itched to touch her creamy skin. He was willing to bet that her
skin was as soft and supple as it looked. Amazing feat with all the sports she
did. He wanted to glide his hands down her arms, cup her breast in his hand
and feel the weight – Great. Now he was getting hard in front of his sister
and mother.

Shame washed over him. Suddenly the hall was too small and he felt as if he
couldn't breathe.

"Spike, hello, talking to you," Buffy was waving her hand in front of his face.

He blinked, "Huh? What?"

"Do you want to go to the park with me? Play some basketball?"

Spend time alone with the girl of his dreams? After he'd seen her like this?
Glowing and gorgeous and God, she was a Goddess.

"No, bloody hell Buffy, I've got shit to do. I don't have time to be shooting
hoops with you all the time," he snapped and stomped off.

"Spike!" Joyce exclaimed.

He slammed the door, feeling an onslaught of tears coming on.

"It's okay, Mom. I've been after him all week. He's probably just tired of
me," he heard Buffy say softly, the hurt in her voice evident. Now he felt
even worse. His body ached to touch her, his soul ached to be with her, and
his heart was shattering because none of that was possible.

He was a bad, bad man.

*********************************************************************

Spike blinked back the tears that fell from his eyes. It was different now, he thought to himself. It's not the same anymore. She loves me and I love her and it's NOT wrong.

Rolling out of bed, Spike went over and locked his door before crawling out his window and into Buffy's. He locked her door and crawled into bed with her, brushing her hair away from her face.

"Spike?" she said sleepily, her eyes fluttering open.

"Ssshhh…It's okay baby," he murmured, kissing her forehead, "Go back to sleep."

"What about Mom and Giles?" she murmured, burrowing into him.

"It's taken care of, don't worry about it," he whispered and held her tighter.

"Why are you here?" she asked on a yawn.

"To prove that I can be."


 

Chapter Twenty Five

Buffy’s eyes shot open as she felt the stirrings of an orgasm approach her along with the stirring of Spike’s tongue inside her. She’d been resting peacefully, her rest even more peaceful since Spike had joined her bed the night before, and now she was awakening to an orgasm that she knew was going to overwhelm her with its intensity.

He was awfully fond of going down on her in the morning it seemed.

“Spike,” she gasped as the heat grew and rose within her, she strained against him and grabbed hold of the sheets at her fingertips. In a desperate move, she reached up and grabbed hold of her pillow and smothered the impending
scream of ecstasy. It was simply impossible to stay quiet when Spike was working his magic.


And then it hit her and she screamed as softly
as she could into the pillow. Spike moaned against her folds,
the vibration of it tickling her clit into another rush. And now
she was smothering herself in her pillow. Whipping it off her
face, she moved quickly to disengage his mouth from her.
She grabbed onto his shoulder and tugged, whimpering
slightly.

He grinned, that predatory grin that made her
panties wet and crushed his lips to hers.

“Why the pillow?” he asked when they were
gasping for air.

“What do you mean why?” she
whispered. “Mom and Giles?”

“Left for work already,” he said, nuzzling her
neck as he stretched out beside her. She felt the nude slide
of his body against hers and felt a rush of lust go through her.

It was amazing what he did to her. And, from the feel of his
erection rubbing against her belly, she had the same affect
on him.

She pulled her head back, demanding that he look at her fully.
He did without question and she reached between them,
grabbing hold of his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the
head and down his steel shaft. His cock jerked in her hands
and seemed to grow even more. His head lolled back and he
groaned, clutching her hips tightly.

“Look at me,” she demanded huskily. “I want to watch you
like you like to watch me.”

His eyes snapped open and she smiled when his eyes met
hers lustfully with just a hint of surprise. She smirked and pumped him quicker watching the pleasure flicker across his face.

“Buffy—“ he grunted. “I’m going to come all over your
sheets—“

Letting him go abruptly she slid down to his cock. “No you
won’t. Come for me Spike,” and she sucked hard on the
head.

He exploded in her mouth and roared her name. She
swallowed the milky jets as fast as she could, some dribbling
from the corner of her mouth. Lazily she cleansed his cock
with her mouth, listening to his little moans of bliss. Climbing
up, she laid beside him and glanced quickly at her alarm
clock. Drat. She had to start getting ready and so did he.

He wrapped her up in his arms, putting a leg over hers
possessively and buried his face in her neck.

She glided her hand up and down his back, basking in
him. “Spike?”

“Yeah?” he murmured.

“What made you come in my room last night?”

“I was thinking about stuff and I wanted to be here instead of
alone in my bed without you.”

“Stuff like...?” she urged.

He sighed and pulled back to look at her. “Remember when
you had that sports banquet in high school?”

“Specifics. I had many in high school.”

“You went with Angel.”

“Ah, oh yeah. The guy who dumped me
because I was a better athlete than him.”

“He was a ponce,” Spike grumbled.

Buffy smiled, “I think you might be biased. He wasn’t bad.
Just competitive. It killed him that a girl was better than he
was.”

“Anyway, I was thinking about that day I came home and you
were trying on this outfit you had gotten for it and I was standing there wanting you so much . . . and I was filled with
shame because I wanted you,” he shook his head. “I yelled at
you. You asked me if I wanted to shoot hoops and I told you I
had better things to do than shoot hoops with you all the time.
I heard the hurt in your voice when you told Joyce that you’d
been badgering me and that I was probably tired of you. I
hated myself for wanting you and I hated myself for hurting
you. I’m sorry.”

Buffy kissed him softly. “It’s over now. Things
aren’t the same, remember?”

“Which is why I came in here last night. There I was a room
away from you, missing you and wanting to be in your arms
and it was okay for me to be with you. That Spike couldn’t be
with you, but this one can and is. I didn’t want to deny myself
anymore.”

“That’s a very good step, William,” Buffy said, smiling
gently. “Does that mean that we can tell Mom and Giles?” she
asked hopefully.

“It was a good step, but I’m still not ready for that, luv.”

She nodded, disappointed. “Okay. Hey, when’s your next
appointment with Dr. McClay?

“In two days. She wants to see me a couple
times during the week for now. Guess I’m sicker than I
thought.”

She poked him with her finger in the chest. “Don’t say that.”

“Can I convince you to come out with me tonight? Just us?
Maybe we could go for a picnic in the park?”

“Who would have guessed you’d be such a romantic?”

“You bring it out in me luv.”

The alarm going off let them know time was
now up. Buffy sighed, “I’ll meet you at the park then? I’ll just
go from Doyle’s so mom and Giles don’t wonder.”

“Sounds good, luv. I’ll come home first and grab a shower. I’ll
come home at lunch and prepare it all and just keep it in the
fridge at work.”

Buffy nodded, sighing inwardly. So much work just to spend
time together. She wanted to point that out to him, but knew it
would do no good to push him. For both their sake’s.



***********************************************************************


“Tell me about Buffy,” Tara said to Spike the following
week at their session.

Spike blinked, “What do you want to know about her?”

Tara studied him,”You got defensive there.”

He looked down, “I did.”

“Why?”

“Buffy is a . . . I don’t want to to say sore subject for
me. That makes it sound as if she’s hurtful to me, because
she’s not.”

“But you think your feelings for her and for each other
are hurtful,” Tara observed.

“Yes.”

“Is it hurtful to you that she loves you?” Tara asked.

“No,” Spike replied, shaking his head.

“Is it hurtful for you to love her?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s
where it gets tricky.”

“How so?”

“When I fell in love with her when she was just a kid
for Christ’s Sake. What kind of pervert was I lusting after my
fourteen year old sister,” Spike said incredulously.

“She’s not your sister,” Tara told him bluntly.

“Tell that to my father and my step mother,” Spike
muttered.

“Spike, everyone has a taboo or ‘bad’ thought;
thoughts that could be considered wrong and unhealthy. It’s
what we do with those thoughts that makes the difference.
You fell in love with Buffy when you were no more than a kid
yourself. At seventeen you’re a guy with raging hormones
who wants to ‘get laid’. It’s normal. It’s not like you took those
urges you had towards Buffy and took advantage of her or
forced yourself on her. At her age, yes, that wouldn’t have
been right. Instead, you treated her the same as you always
had and beat yourself up for having those thoughts; those
feelings. Were you betraying Buffy by having them or were
you betraying your father and step mother?”

“My parents,” he murmured.

“How?”

“They thought I was being big brother Spike, when I
was really being the guy who wanted Buffy for myself.”

“You never acted on it, Spike. You can’t beat yourself
up for the things that you felt. You are not a bad man. You
are not sick, you are not perverted. You’re human.
Pedophiles are individuals who take advantage of the young
and use force on them; who get off on hurting children
because it satisfies a dark craving inside them. You are not a
pedophile, for you never forced yourself on Buffy. And do
you know why?”

Spike shook his head, fighting back tears.

“Because you loved her. You still love her. It’s part of
the reason why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He nodded, wiping at his eyes.

Tara got up and moved so that she sat beside him.
She took his hands in hers and looked at him imploringly. “It’s
time to let it go, Spike. It’s time to stop beating yourself up and
making something special into something dirty and wrong. I
want you to tell me now what you love about Buffy. What it
was that drew her to you back then. Don’t hold anything
back, tell me all of it.”

Spike took a shuddering breath, trying not to sob out
the wealth of emotions coursing through him. One of them
namely being relief.

“Th—thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Tara squeezed his hands in hers. “For what?”

“For telling it’s not wrong. F-for saying it’s okay to feel
as I have and as I do.”

“Say it out loud, Spike. Say ‘I love Buffy and it’s not
wrong.’”

“I-I love Buffy and it’s not wrong,” he repeated back.

“Again.”

“I l-love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“Again.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“Again.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“One more time.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong,” he said this time with
conviction, with strength of voice and a determined glint in his
eye.

“I want you to say that to yourself whenever you
start to feel guilt, or when you start to feel wrong for loving
her. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he sighed heavily, expelling the tension held
tight within him.

“Tell me now; tell me what it was that drew you to
her.”

Spike gave her a watery smile and swallowed back
the rest of his tears held at bay for now. “I can tell you that
she is and was unlike any girl I’d ever known or wanted to
know.”

“Give me an adjective to describe her.”

“Audacious,” he said without hesitation.

Tara squeezed his hand, “Do you think that’s
something you’d like to have possessed within yourself?
Quick answer, don’t think about it.”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling. “Just to be
near her . . . you get caught up in her. You can’t help but
want to be near it, touch it, have it surround you. She has so
much LIFE. Even then, especially then. Time has made her a
little jaded, a little harder around the edges, but that life is still
there in her.

She doesn’t want anyone to consider her weak or
incapable of doing anything, she’s stubborn and proud. You
think she’s all sharp edges that’ll cut you if you get too close
to her, and she has this wall up that shuts you out, keeps
you at a distance. But, but if she allows you to get close to
her, you see the real her, the gem she is.

She has such a kind, loving heart. She goes to bat for
the ones she loves and when she loves you, she makes you
feel like a God.

She always let me in. She idolized me and I think she
took on some of my traits in the process.”

“So it’s only fitting that you should want to take on
some of hers.”

“I don’t want to be dependant on her. Buffy would
never go for that. She’s a free spirit and she let me catch
her—“

“She caught you too, Spike. She wanted you to be the
one to catch her.”

Spike nodded profusely, “Yes, yes, that’s true. She
did. I thought I had a rough idea what love was all about
when I was younger, pre-Buffy. At fifteen, I imagined it’d be
me being loved by someone and taken care of. I thought it
was all about kissing and hugging and sex and that as long
as you had that, then you had it all. I wanted to be
worshipped; I wanted to be the center of someone’s
existence. Then I fell for Buffy and realized that I didn’t want
her to worship me for I worshipped her.

I just wanted to share things with her. She was the one I
wanted to tell about my day, she was the one I wanted to
see a horror movie with. When I got too big for my britches, I
wanted her to be the one to tell me to get over myself. And
she would,” Spike chuckled. “She might have idolized me, but
she had no problem telling me to shove it up my arse.

She wasn’t like the girls my age. She was older somehow;
wiser. She wasn’t into getting falling down drunk and
sleeping with random guys. She wasn’t into hair and makeup
and showing off her flat stomach. She was a tomboy. Still is.
I thought I’d wanted a girl that was everything Buffy wasn’t.
But I was wrong. I’ve dated girls like that, girls with no
substance, girls that played games and snapped their gum
and batted their eyes to get what they want. Buffy would
sooner arm wrestle me to get what she wanted than resort
to such games. Though, she has tried it. Pulled the ol’ ‘but
Spike I’m your little sister’ routine. Like I wouldn’t give her everything and anything she wanted.
Buffy is the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s not all her looks; it’s her spirit and her soul. It’s her heart and her mind. It’s everything. Those were things that drew me to her, and those are the things that kept my heart with her.”

“Spike, that’s so beautiful,” Tara said softly, dabbing
at her eyes. “Have you ever told her those things?”
Spike shrugged; feeling shy suddenly. “Here and there.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She really is,” Spike said, nodding and smiling sheepishly.

“Say it again, Spike.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”
 

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