One Good Talk

Title : One Good Talk.

Author : Sophie

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine

Summary : Buffy seek some time alone with Spike.

It was the silence that woke him up.

He was so used to the noises of feet tapping, running water, incessant chatter and laughing that it was suddenly highly disturbing not to hear anything anymore.

Spike got up from his cot, slightly worried, and took the stairs.

Buffy was sitting in the kitchen, alone. She smiled when she saw him, a sweet and caring smile he had never seen on her face and that he attributed to the delusion of his still sleepy mind.

He sat down, before realizing he was hungry. But Buffy had already filled a mug with blood and putted it in the microwave. She placed it in front of him.

“Thanks,” he said, at loss for a cleverer sentence.

“You’re welcome.”

He took a sip. She was still standing next to him, pretending to flip the pages of a magazine, but he knew better. Even a super powered Slayer couldn’t read that fast.

“Are you alone?” he finally asked.

“Yes. A part of the Sit’s are at Xander’s with Giles. Some others went to the Bronze with Faith and Willow. And Dawn is at Janice’s.”

“The Bronze? You don’t fear an apparition of the preacher?”

“They can’t stay locked in the house, right? It hasn’t stopped the First before anyway. If anything happens, they can call me. We’re not far. They really needed the break.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“Why do I have the impression that you sent everybody away?”

She blushed slightly.

“Maybe because that’s what I did.”

He frowned.

“And why’s that, pet?”

“I wanted…I needed some time alone with you. To talk.”

“Seems serious.”

“It is. I did some thinking lately…”

He raised an eyebrow and she smiled.

“Yeah, that happens to me sometimes. Come on Spike, I’m really trying to be serious here.”

“Sorry, Slayer. Go on.”

“I was thinking that, when all of this would be over, there were some things I needed to tell you. Then I thought that over meant maybe over for us as well, if we die. And I really don’t want to wait the last minute to tell you.”

“Tell me what, Buffy?”

“That I love you.”

She had said it so naturally that he didn’t get it at first. That was another one of those crushing dreams, and he would wake up anytime now. He pinched his arm.

“Ow.”

No. He was awake. So it meant that he was delusional. Because he could have swear that Buffy had said…

“I love you, Spike.”

There. She had said it again. Loud and clear. And even better, she looked like she meant it.

“Could you…could you repeat that, please?”

She took his hand.

“I can say it again…but don’t you want me to prove it instead?”

“Oh…well, that would be nice too.”

She nestled between his legs and took his head between her hands and gave him a tender kiss.

“You’re supposed to tell me you love me too and then ravish me,” she whispered with uncertainty in her voice. Of all the reactions she had imagined he would have, not reacting at all was not one of them.

“Spike, do you…”

She didn’t finish her phrase, because he had suddenly pressed her body against his and was kissing her fervently. She let out a sigh of pleasure, finding back the twirling of emotions that never failed to appear each time Spike touched her. How could she have survived all those month without it? How could she have denied for even one minute that the arms of that man were the one and only place where she truly belonged?

“I love you, Buffy. Always did, always will,” he finally said while sneaking his hands under her blouse. She shivered in anticipation.

Spike was watching her in awe, as if he still couldn’t believe it.

“Why now?” he asked her.

She caressed his face.

“Because there’s maybe not much time left. And I don’t want to spend that precious time pretending I don’t care about you. I need all my friends with me, and that includes you. Because you’re not only my friend, but also the man I love, with all my heart. And that friendship and love are probably the most powerful weapons we have against the first. Well, that and a few battle axes. The point is, Denial Buffy is dead. For good.”

“And buried very deeply, I hope.”

“She’ll never come out again.”

He took her back in his arms, rocking her gently and she put her face in the crook of his neck.

“If we survive, I suggest we go spend at least a month on a deserted island, just you and me. And island with lots of trees and shades, of course. Resting and making love. How do you like my plan?”

“I think it’ s a bloody brilliant plan, sweetheart.”

“How about this one? We go upstairs and…”

She whispered the rest in his ear and a wide happy grin appeared on his face.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wiping her off of her feet, and the house was suddenly full of laughter again.