Spinning the Wheel 24 - Morning After

Buffy awoke when the sun fell through the slits in the curtains onto her face. She crunched her face, trying to shut the annoying rays out but it was too late. She was already too awake to find sleep again.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and tried to remember where she was. Yeah, right.. Spike's place. They had slept on the couch. She had a nightmare and the last thing she could remember was him holding her in his arms.
Slowly she blinked her way back to reality and raised her head carefully. She lay on her side again and Spike seemed sound asleep beside her. He had his back turned towards her, so she couldn't see his face.

With a little sigh she turned on her back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. She could still feel the heat of his body against hers, his hand on her shoulder and how his fingers had rubbed nonsense patterns on her arm. Usually it was hard to sleep again after the nightmare but this time she had felt more relaxed than ever. To be held, to know that there was somebody right beside her, had given her the strength to sleep again.

Buffy heard him shift beside her and watched how he turned onto the other side, facing her. He had one arm curled under his head and the other hand clutched the blanket tightly. A smile drifted across her face. He had probably never looked any sweeter than now. His hair was a rumpled mass of platinum curls that fell slightly onto his forehead and he looked almost peaceful, something she didn't see very often.

But the picture was ruined when his face twisted into something different. She couldn't quite fathom what it looked like but it disturbed the peace. The muscles in his face were twitching and he clutched the blanket even tighter.

"No..that's not.. no." he mumbles almost inaudible.

Was he having nightmares now? Buffy watched him with some sort of horrid fascination. She didn't want to wake him although she probably should. But something inside her urged her not to.

Ever so slowly, she rose from the couch. He stirred when she got to her feet and turned on his back, his face now relaxed again. Maybe just a bad moment, nothing serious.

Trying hard to make no sound she padded into the hall and in the bathroom. When she was done and washed her hands she watched herself in the mirror for a moment. What was going on here? Between them? Images of last night came back, the way he looked when she'd changed the bandages or when they had settled down for the night. The concern on his face when she had told him about her nightmare, the slightly startled looked when she'd asked him to hold her and they way his body felt beside hers.

She couldn't fathom what it was that they had. It was so.. twisted and there were still some things he wasn't telling her.

Now that he was sleeping.. maybe she could get into the bedroom. She'd watched him yesterday, how he'd retrieved the key from the kitchen. She knew too well that it was impolite to almost break into this room but when she wanted answers she had to get them somehow. And he wasn't telling her anything, no matter how hard she pushed.

With a resolved look, she padded back into the kitchen, watching him for almost a minute to make sure he was still asleep. Then she began rummaging through the drawers as quietly as possible.
There were just two drawers. One with silverware which turned out nothing more than the aforementioned, and one with odds and ends that had piled up over time, some silverware that didn't fit in the other drawer and a whole lot more stuff.

After roaming through the contents a little, Buffy found a small ring with a single key attached to it. A key for a door. If it was the right key she would find out soon enough.

The key fit the look and Buffy twisted it until she heard the little 'click' of the lock being opened. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, careful enough to avoid any possible creak or groan of the wood.

The room was dim, the curtains on the opposite wall were drawn closed. Slowly she padded into the room, you never knew what stuff lay around on the floor in other people's room. And on her first glance she saw that Spike had lied to her, the room wasn't too small. It was almost as big as the living-room minus the kitchen. There was plenty of room from the door to the bed and around the bed.

The bed was broad and seemed almost wider than a usual double bed and it was covered with a deep red comforter, the pillows matching the color. The carpet was also done in a dark color, maybe red or even black. Buffy couldn't make it out in the lack of light.

Opposite the bed was the closet, almost nine feet long with a top to bottom mirror in the middle. Neat, and a little kinky. But what drew her eyes even more was the coat that dangled from the closet door. A long black leather duster. Buffy remembered it from one of the pictures she'd seen of Spike on stage.

Buffy stepped a little closer. A thin layer of dust covered the leather as if the coat hadn't been moved for quite some time. Of course, Spike wouldn't be able to wear it anymore. It must have been one of the remnants of his.. of his past life, locked away so nobody could see it.

Carefully she ran her fingers over the worn material. A faint smell of leather, stale cigarette smoke and something else drifted towards her. She almost felt like she was in a museum, in one of those rooms where you weren't allowed to touch stuff but you did anyway. Probably one of those 'Alice in Wonderland' effects - it says 'eat me' and you just have to take a bite.

Buffy turned around towards the bed. Beside the small lamp on one of the nightstands stood a framed picture. She went over to pick it up and turned her back towards the window to the let the dim light shine on the picture. It was similar to those she'd seen in Spike's office - him and the beautiful young woman - Drusilla, if she remembered correctly.

This had been their bedroom. Buffy had already assumed that earlier but now she knew for sure. She sank down on the bed and stared down at the picture. It almost hurt her to see the happy couple but what hurt even more was that he had locked all this away. He had secured his past, maybe to try to forget it or to keep it as a memory. Either was horrible. Why didn't he tell her this when she'd asked last night?

A little tear formed in the corner of her eye and made its way down her cheek. She didn't exactly know why she was crying, it just came to her. There was a mixture of disappointment, jealousy and.. something else. She'd never been confronted with such a thing and she didn't know how to handle it now.

"Can you tell me exactly what you are doing here?"

Buffy's head snapped up and she stared at the door. She hadn't heard how Spike had pushed it further open and now he stared at her, his eyes furious.

Spike had felt her getting up from the couch. To use the bathroom probably. But it had seeped into his mind that she was taking too long. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew it, something was wrong. So he had gotten up and had made his way into the hall. He'd seen it almost immediately, the door to the bedroom was open ajar. No no no. She had seen him getting the key yesterday and she was in there. But she wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to see it.

"Spike, I…" Buffy rose, the picture clutched in her hands. She felt the heat rising in her face and she stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." he spat every word at her like a curse and moved a little further into the room.

"Spike.. I.. I can explain." she stumbled. She knew with every single fibre of her body that this had been a mistake. She might have caused less damage if she'd just asked him.

"Yeah, why don't you do that?" his voice was hard, thick threads of anger woven through it.

"I.. when you were at the hospital, I wanted to get you some clothes but… the door was locked and.."

"You decided that it would be fun to have a look? There are reasons why doors are locked."

"I know but…" suddenly her confusion and embarrassment changed into anger. "It's not like you would tell me, right?"

"What?" he spat, glowering at her.

"I opened the door cause you wouldn't tell me anyway. You don't tell me anything. Not about those painkillers you take, not about Harmony. Why? Why don't you tell me what's on your mind? Why don't you tell me that your girlfriend died in the accident? Hell, I bet you wouldn't tell about the nightmare you were having just then."

By the time she said the words, Buffy could feel and almost hear the thin threads of carefully built-up trust snap in two. Like one of those ropes you see in cartoons - when a knife is edged against it and the fibres tear apart one by one. In the comics it was always funny. But this was real. And it wasn't funny. She knew that she'd said too much but it was too late now. Far to late.

"How?" Spike stared at her, his face suddenly blank. She couldn't read his expression, she could only see the muscles of his jaw work under his skin. "How did you know?"

"Spike. .I'm.. I'm sorry.. I.."

"You looked me up." he cut her off. He remembered that she had read one of his poem. She hadn't been out for some stuff for college. She had looked him up. "Why?" His voice wasn't more than a whisper. His mind reeled at the sudden revelation.

"Because.. I just.. I just wanted to know something about you. You're not telling me anything, not even when I ask." Buffy sounded pleading, almost desperate. "Why don't you trust me with this?"

"I did." he replied simply and she could see a stray tear in the corner of his eye. But then, he suddenly barked out a harsh laugh, a hysterical sound but not at all invoked by fun. "God, I'm such an idiot. And I thought you were different." He shook his head, lowering his gaze onto his knees.

"Spike, what… what do you mean? I.. I told you I was sorry… I.."

"I thought you didn't care about all this. I thought we could just.. be friends. I guess I was wrong."

It almost seemed as if he was talking to himself, he didn't look at her. If he did, she would probably see that his eyes were brimming with tears. He fought hard to keep them out of his voice.

"God, Spike. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…" she broke off, she didn't know how to explain. Everything had gone wrong, horribly wrong. And she knew she had screwed it up.

"Get out." he pressed through gritted teeth, his hands clenching around the armrests of the wheelchair.

"But, please.. let me explain, I wasn't.."

"I said. Get. Out." he cut her off, his voice hard and cold as ice. "Take your things and go. I don't want to see you again."

Buffy stared at him for a long minute as if she was waiting for more. But it was all he said. And she knew that he had every right in the world to say it, to throw her out. It was all her fault. She had done something she shouldn't have, she had risked all the trust he had put in her by such a simple thing like looking him up on the internet. She should have known. Willow had warned her but she had been so stupid to insist on the research. And there she was, standing over the pieces that had been their relationship or whatever it was they had.

She dropped the picture on the bed, lowered her head guiltily and walked past him, slipped into her clothes and left the apartment. She knew that he meant every word he'd said.

***

Spike sat there in an almost trance-like position. He stared ahead blindly, feeling even more empty than ever.

Tears ran down his cheeks and his hands were quivering. He had to bite down in his lip to keep his chin from shaking, too. He didn't know whether to be furious, sad or disappointed. Probably a mixture of all three.

One the one hand, he hated Buffy for what she'd done. He had trusted her more than anybody else in the past few years. He had told her more than anybody else and he had more feelings for her than for anybody else. But he couldn't forgive her for pushing this trust to its limits.

But on the other hand, he also knew that it was kind of his fault, too. If he had told her something, even if it wasn't everything, she wouldn't have done that. And she wouldn't be gone now.

But he couldn't. He couldn't tell anybody. It was just too much.

Slowly he moved towards the bed and picked up the picture of him and Dru. It hurt to see it again. When he'd been in the room last night, he had made it quick so he didn't have time to think about it. But now she was smiling back at him, this sensual smile that promised things, that was so intoxicating that it left you awake all night until you saw it again.

He felt his heart clenching into a painful, unpleasant little ball inside his chest and he gripped the picture so hard that his thumbs cracked the glass into a spiderweb pattern of razorsharp shards. He fought hard not to sob but his tears fell onto the glass, blurring the picture.

What was he supposed to do now?

He wanted to be alone now and to have time to think stuff through. How he'd gotten himself into this mess. Well, actually Buffy had gotten him into this mess.

And for the first time, he really wished that she'd either never hit him with her car or that she had killed him right on the spot. Both would have saved him from a lot of pain.

He had adjusted to his life before; everything had been fine as far as he was concerned. But then she came, smashing into his life like a cannonball. She turned everything upside down, digging up things he had refused to think and talk about. She had altered his life in a way he would have never considered before. She had made him socialize with other people, made him smile and even laugh. She made him feel something other than all the pain and guilt that woke him almost every night for three years now.

And he was missing her already.

Spinning the Wheel 25 - All Cried Out

"I told you it was stupid. But... like you listen to your best friend." Willow exclaimed, gesturing wildly as she entered the Summers' house behind her friend.

"I know, I know. But I can't change it now." Buffy lowered her head as guilt flashed through her entire being.

Three days had passed since the… incident. Three days since she'd heard from Spike. She'd called him yesterday and that morning but he wouldn't pick up the phone. Once or twice she had feared that he could have done something stupid again but she also refused to visit him.

She knew that she had fucked it up. Majorly. And he had every right not to talk to her. Maybe all he needed was time. Just how much time would that be?

She was sorry and she wanted to tell him so. And she missed him.

"What are you going to do now?"

The two young women went into the kitchen. Buffy had invited Willow over after college to go through some stuff for an upcoming test. And for some much needed best-friend-time. She had told the redhead what had happened and ever since then Willow had been fueling her guilt.

"I don't know." Buffy dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter and opened the fridge. "You want something to drink?" She took out a small bottle of orange juice, twisted the cap open and took a sip.

"No, thanks. I'm fine." Willow hopped up onto one of the stools, watching the blonde intently. "But you have to do something. You can't just.. let it end this way."

"But how can I, when he doesn't want to talk to me? I can't just go to his place as if nothing ever happened. You didn't see him, Will. I made a mistake. A big one."

"I told you so - from the very beginning, I told you so - but you wouldn't listen."

"You're not being very supportive. It's your part as my best friend to tell me what I'm supposed to do now and not to give me lectures I already know by heart."

"Well.." Willow thrummed her fingers on the table-top, thinking. "I'd start with the message left on the machine there. The blinking digits are kind of obnoxious."

Buffy glared at her, annoyed. This wasn't helping. At all. And she hated this helpless feeling. If she only knew what she could do to unhappen all this. She sighed deeply and went over to the machine beside the phone and pushed the play-button.

It beeped twice before a computer-voice informed, "You have one new message."

It beeped again and the message played: "Buffy? This is Spike. I need to talk to you. Come to my place when you got time."

That was all. No 'hi', no 'bye'. Buffy stared at the machine as if it had offended her, her mouth slightly agape.

"Buffy? You okay?" Willow asked, concerned, and touched her friend's arm lightly.

"Yeah, I'm.. I'm fine. It's just…" She gestured vaguely at the machine. Her head was spinning a little. The message had taken her totally off guard. Never ever in the world had she expected that.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked after a minute of silence.

"I don't know." she almost whispered.

"You don't want to go to him and see what he's up to?"

"I don't know." she repeated.

She didn't even know why this was bothering her so much. He wanted to talk to her, something she'd always wanted, from the very beginning. Now it was actually happening. But somehow she was a little scared. What if he told her that he really didn't want to see her again? Ever?

Willow dropped her head on her hands and sighed. "You.. are so complicated. He wants to talk to you. Whatever he wants to tell you, it can't be worse than this. You always wanted him to talk, and now he wants to, too. If you don't go…"

Buffy snapped out of her thoughts. "Are you trying to threaten me?" she asked incredulously.

"No. I'm just trying to tell you what's best and save myself from a maddening headache cause my friend's as stubborn as an old goat."

The blonde smiled at that. "You gonna drop me off by his place?"

"That's what I'm here for. This is my genuine secretly plotted plan." The redhead beamed at her friend and stood.

"I knew you were behind all this. You're like the big bad in this little story, huh?"

Despite her humor, Buffy still felt a little insecure. She didn't know what to expect from the upcoming talk. Maybe he was just going to tell her to stay away from him forever and for always... or this would be the talk. When he would tell her what had really happened. Neither option would be pretty.

***

The apartment building looked as if someone had dropped a bucket of dirty dishwater over it and Buffy felt as if she was supposed to wade in it. She didn't want to go in, but she had to. Willow had dropped her off a few minutes before, giving her a reassuring speech, but she still refused to go inside. She hated it when she didn't know what to expect. But she had to go in. She owed him.

The next stop came when she stood in front of Spike's door, the key in her hand. It cost her a lot of effort to insert it into the lock, twist it and open the door.

As if she had made a trip back in time, the place was dark. Not as dark as when she'd first come here but there was a dim shadow laying over everything. And she could smell the faint odor of alcohol. She'd already gathered up the strength to go through another suicidal situation again. She didn't know Spike had called her that day, anything could have happened in the meantime.

"Spike?" she asked carefully, walking down the hall towards the door of the living-room.

"In here." His voice was hard, controlled. He sat in front of one of the windows, looking out between the shades as if he was watching someone and didn't want to be watched in return.

"Hi." Buffy said lamely as she entered the room. Her hands clenched over her purse. She didn't know what else to say.

Spike waited a moment for her to approach before he spoke again. "Sit."

But Buffy didn't. She still wanted to say that she was sorry. She had thought about the best way to explain the last two days. "Spike, please.. let me explain all this. Just…"

"Sit. Down." Two single syllables, smacking into her like bullets fired from a gun six feet across the room.

She was so stunned by his sudden outburst that she obeyed and sank down on the couch. He had been angry at her before but this time it was much worse. She couldn't quite fathom what it was his voice indicated and that scared her even more than just his anger.

"You want to know, then hear me out," he snapped, never turning around to face her. He just stared ahead, out of the window into the sinking sun.

***

"I'm sorry, my sweet," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks now. "I didn't want this to happen, you have to believe me. I love you, baby. You know I do. I love you more than anything. I knew it from the very first day we met…"
And with that he started babbling almost nonsense stuff into her hear. About how they had met when he was 15 and still the nerdy little boy. How she had taught him stuff, showed him her world. What he'd done for her, how he changed for her. He told her everything, just to keep her awake. She made little mewling noises every once in a while; she couldn't speak anymore. She didn't even wince when he leaned his head against her shoulder. "You remember the first gig we played? The song I sang for you?" he swallowed the tears down, sniffling quietly. And ever so quietly, he began to sing. "Lonely I saw you standing there, blackest dress and blackest hair, looked at me like no tomorrow, felt no pain and knew no sorrow. You filled my body, my veins, my heart; been never social, never smart; made me run on overdrive; felt like the first night of my life." The last words came out as a whisper.

"I never told anyone about all this. I didn't want them to know that.. that she had to suffer. I just couldn't… but I know. I.. held her.. in my arms when… she died. I felt.. her dying. And I dream about it almost every night. I.. I killed her."

Buffy stared at him as he ended his story. She hadn't said a word. Over an hour had passed and she hadn't so much as blinked. Her heart and guts were tied into tight knots and she didn't dare to breathe now that he was quiet.

His back was still turned to her, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were constricting and she knew that he was crying. She could hear him sobbing although he tried to muffle the sound.

But then she did what she should have done days, if not weeks ago. She rose from her seat on the couch, walked over to him to kneel between his legs and took him into her arms.

He hesitated first, almost irritated at the sudden touch, but then he responded, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

She had her arms wrapped tight around him, still careful as if she could break him even more. Absently, she rubbed nonsense patterns onto his back, her left hand slipping to the back of his neck, waving through his short curly hair.

She felt tears stinging her own eyes as she felt his seeping through her shirt onto her skin. She'd never seen a grown man crying and it scared her, too. But she knew that she was doing the only right thing.

Three years of pent up guilt, grief and sorrow were pouring out with his tears in this single moment. Everything that had been bothering him, everything he had kept hidden for such a long time. Neither dignity, nor pride, nor anything else mattered anymore. This was something pure, clean and simple. For the first time in three years it wasn't just him. He had told her about it and it had taken off a burden.

Buffy whispered nonsense words into his ear, trying to tell him that it was okay, that it would be alright again and that it wasn't his fault but she could as well have said nothing. It wasn't about words anymore. It was just about being held, about not being alone anymore, about sharing.

She held him like that for what seemed like an eternity. But that, too, was irrelevant.
His sobbing stopped but she still kept holding him, just letting him know that she was there.

Ever so slowly she pulled back from him, her arms still wrapped around his sunken form. She felt her cheek brush against his and leaned a little closer into him. She still had her eyes closed; her own tears dried, too, as her chin rubbed against his. She could feel his breath on her skin.

Her bottom lip touched his first, grazing over it like butterfly wings. But then she began lightly nipping at his lips, before she pressed a feather light kiss on his mouth.

The second their lips touched Spike was lost.
Lost to the pure sensation of it, lost to the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, lost to the feeling of her hot breath against his skin and lost to the peachy taste of her soft lips.

She pulled away slightly but then repeated the kiss, just tasting his lips ever so gently; they nipped at each other, totally oblivious to the world around them. Then, Buffy's tongue darted out, probing at his lips, teasing them a little.

He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth slightly, welcoming her, taking her in.
He couldn't remember ever being kissed like this, featherlight and deep at the same time. A variety of sweet sensations was coursing through him when their tongues touched and began a leisurely dance.

Being stripped of all disguises, all the layers of self-defence being peeled away, he was totally vulnerable to it. Emotion, naked and pure, set his body on fire, making his head swim and his thoughts blur into an unfathomable mass.

But he was the first to pull away from the kiss. He didn't open his eyes but lowered his head anyway. Almost absently he licked his lips and shuddered at the remaining sensation.

"You should go." he said quietly.

Buffy stared at him. Her mind reeled at little with the newest turn of the events. She had just kissed him. She hadn't planned that and now she was trying to comprehend. His words didn't fit into her thoughts right now. "What?" she breathed.

"You should go now. Please." His voice was heavy with.. with what? Desire, longing.

She had never heard him talking like that but at the same time she knew that she had to do what he said. It was something in the way his hands were trembling and how a little stray tear rolled down his cheek that told her to go, more than his words did. She didn't want to, she wanted to stay with him... but she knew that she couldn't.

So she rose slowly, waiting for him to maybe change his mind while she was still there. But his words never came. Not as she got her purse from the couch, nor when she made her way into the hallway.

But as she stood in the doorframe to the living-room, she turned around again. He hadn't moved and she could still see him shaking.

"Why?" she asked simply. She didn't know whether she was asking why he had told her all this or why he was sending her away. Both thoughts had jumped into her brain at the same time.

Almost a minute passed before he spoke and she could hear tears in his voice again.

"Because I'm falling in love with you. And I can't bear that."

Spinning the Wheel 27 - The First Cut Is The Deepest

Four weeks passed. Four whole weeks in which she didn’t hear nor see Spike. And she started to get worried. Of course, if something would have happened to him, she would have heard. She had talked to the neighbor on the same floor when he had been at the hospital to pay a little more attention to what was going on in the apartment next door.

But she was worried that he really didn’t want to talk to her anymore. Not ever again. It was choking her because she still felt that it was all her fault. If she wouldn’t have kissed him back then, she wouldn’t be sitting in her room now, with the slow rain pearling down her window.

Christmas was in one week and the weather had become worse day by day. Not that is was going to snow in California, therefore it started raining. The sky was clouded and grey and it couldn’t fit her mood any more perfectly.

The mug of tea she held in her hands was already cold as she took a sip. She hated this, feeling helpless and totally insecure. She didn’t know what to do. Spike had told her that he needed time and she wanted to give it to him, but what if she would have to wait forever? What if he was waiting now for her to make a move, to see if she even cared about him?

But she couldn’t call him again. She had tried once but her fingers had denied any action. And she couldn’t just show up at his place. She had a key, true, but she didn’t have a reputation for respecting other people’s territory in their relationship.

Relationship, there it was again. One of the few words that had been haunting her in the last few weeks. She didn’t know what kind of relationship they had, if it was one to begin with. She knew that they were friends, or had been until that fateful day. She knew that she liked him, very much, that she had told him things no one else knew and that he was trusting her more than any other person. And still she didn’t know what to make of it.

She had never expected him to have that kind of feelings for her. But where she should be happy and feel loved, she was just scared.

***

There was a careful knock on the door before Dawn poked her head into her big sister’s room. “Hey, mopey-gal.” She didn’t smile.

“Hey.” Buffy replied tiredly. “What do you want?” She didn’t even have the strength to give her voice an angry edge. To be honest, Dawn had been overly nice in the last couple of weeks unlike her usual kid-sister-behavior. Weird.

“I.. uhm.. I just wanted to ask if you would come along shopping. I still need something for mom and you are old enough to tell me what a woman her age likes.” The brunette girl stepped into the room, crossing her arms behind her back and bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet.

“And just for that, I should throw something at you.” Buffy glowered at her.

Dawn held up her hands in defense. “You want to slay me with your expensive shoes?” She beamed. “Kidding aside. You really look like you need some distraction. This whole thing is eating you inside out and as long as you don’t talk to Spike, you need some serious sister-shopping-time.”

For a moment, Buffy just stared at her. Why did she have to act all grown up all of a sudden? That was scary. And she knew that Dawn was right. She needed to get out or she would go clinically insane some time soon. So she flung her legs over the side of her bed and stood. “Okay. But any comments about my age again and you’re dead.”

A bright smile flashed over Dawn’s face and she let out a happy shriek before disappearing into the hall.

***

Sunnydale had never been the most crowded place on the planet. You could always wander the streets without bumping into anyone or you could simply take a step aside on the street without being hit by a car.

It was as if the town was experiencing it’s first Christmas ever. The streets were uncomfortable crowded despite the rain and the chilly wind that swept up some damp garbage here and there. It wasn’t as if it didn’t happen every year on the same day. But still, people seemed to forget about that day all of a sudden, started panicking and hit the streets to get the last presents. Thank god it wasn’t any closer to Christmas. They would be dead by now, trampled by furious housewives and busy weekend-daddies.

“You know what? That’s what I hate about Christmas. It’s about love, right? And what’s happening? People are even more pissed than usual. It’s just not right.” Dawn complained, a huge plastic bag in her hand that held a frame she wanted to fill with picture of her and Buffy. It would be the perfect present for her mom, even Buffy had said that. And that meant something, given the age an all.

Buffy didn’t answer. She shivered in the rain and crossed her arms, rubbing at her shoulder, her umbrella wobbling a little and a fine spray of rain hit her face. She hadn’t taken much joy in the shopping. She didn’t even want to try something on or buy a pair of new earrings which was so not her.

“Hey… you look like a frost stick. You want to swing by at the Espresso Pump?” Buffy just nodded limply and they turned a corner to head for the local coffee shop. “You know, I’ll get one of those Red Eye things. Xander said they were...” Dawn stopped as she saw Buffy standing stock still a few steps back. She followed her sister’s eyes down the street to see an equally startled young man staring back at her. “Hey... ehm... know what? I’ll go get the coffee, you hold this.” She shoved the bag into her sister’s arm who caught it clumsily before disappearing in the more than crowded Espresso Pump. At her last step, she shot Spike a slow smile.

***

Buffy didn’t know how long they had be staring at each other. It was as if they met for the very first time. Her heart started to beat a little quicker and she swallowed hard before being able to make a step forward.

“Hey.” A thin smile spread on her lips but it didn’t even reach her eyes.

“Hey.” Spike’s expression was almost unreadable. He just looked at her, plain and simple.

“How... uhm... how are you?” ‘Queen of wit, that’s me.’ Buffy thought and mentally rolled her eyes at the stupid question.

“Okay.” he replied in the same flat tone.

And Buffy knew that he lied. It was the same lie he had told her on the phone a while back. He hadn’t been good then and he was far from okay now. He looked tired, exhausted. His eyes had lost a few shades of blue and had dark circles underneath them. And for the first time she could get a glimpse of his true hair color, dark roots showing beneath the bottle-blond mass of damp curls. Now that she saw him like this, she realized that she had never seen any clue of his natural look. That must have been something he had preserved from his past; just like that coat.

She blinked after an uncomfortable silence had fallen between them in which he just kept staring at her. Not that she noticed since she returned his gaze with almost the same intensity.

“So... what... what are you doing here?” she asked after a while, knowing that this question had an equal amount of stupity to it.

“Running errands.” He nodded as if to convince himself that it was true. “You?”

“Shopping. Dawn asked me to come along. She needed a Christmas present for mom.” She lifted the bag for emphasis.

“Christmas, right.” It almost sound as if he had totally forgotten about that.

Silence settled again, this one even heavier than the last one. This time both of them were staring aimlessly at the ground.

“Spike?” Buffy suddenly burst out.

“Hm?” He blinked at her in surprise.

“Can we... I mean... can we... talk?” She just couldn’t hold it any longer. It had been enough to sit at home not knowing what to do, but seeing him now and not saying anything was too much.

“Think we have to.” he said simply, although a dark and somehow disappointed shadow flickered over his face.

“Yeah... good. But... but not here, okay? This is just...” She pointed towards the row of people outside the coffee shop. “You... you want to come by my house?”

Spike seemed to consider that for a moment before he nodded. “Tomorrow? I need to... See... to some stuff today.”

‘Stuff? What stuff?’ she almost asked but bit it back. The smile she gave him this time was a little brighter. “Great.” she said instead.

“’kay... I… I need to go. See you tomorrow then.” With that, he moved past her and disappeared around the corner.

“Let me just reverse my comment about love from before, okay?” Dawn appeared from the coffee shop, two to-go-cups in her hand

.

Buffy jumped at the sudden words. “Dawn, did you listen again?” She glared at her sister.

“Well, no. I just saw you guys with the moon-eyes, that’s all. So, what happened?” She handed her sister one of the cups with steaming hot cappuccino, before taking her bag back.

“First, there were no moon-eyes involved, you should stop watching those soap-opera. And second, we just agreed to talk tomorrow. He’ll come over.” Buffy took at sip from the drink, feeling the heat filling her body, the first comfortable feeling in weeks.

“You’ll just talk?” Dawn raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”

***

Buffy sat over the newspaper in the kitchen, waiting for a kettle of water to start boiling. It hadn’t stopped raining since yesterday but it was still warm enough not to heat the fireplace in the living-room. So she had to rely on every warm drink in the house to keep the chill at bay.

She almost jumped out of her skin when somebody knocked on the door. Her heart skipped a beat or two before settling in on a slightly raised pace. Spike. It had to be him. Dawn was upstairs and not expecting company and her mother was still at the gallery. And since they had to agreed on meeting here…

For a moment, she just stared at the door, hesitating and trying to steady her breath. It wasn’t actual fear that made her stop, but she couldn’t deny being a little afraid of what he might tell her now.

“Hey.” She smiled politely when she finally opened the door. She didn’t feel like smiling at all.

Spike returned the gesture although his eyes, too, seemed wide with a anticipation and anxiety. He still looked tired as if he hadn’t slept in days and he was totally drenched by the rain.

Buffy told him so. “You want to come in? You gonna catch a cold.”

“No, I...” he hesitated for a moment. “I’d rather stay here.”

‘In case he wants to make a quick exit’, Buffy thought but stopped herself before saying it aloud. “Then let me get you some tea. I’ll be back in a second.”
She left the front door open as she disappeared into the kitchen, where the kettle was whistling.

She returned a minute later with a small tray with two mugs. A towel hung over her arm. She put the tray down on the small table beside the wooded bench on the porch and handed him the towel. “Here. If you don’t want to come inside, dry yourself off instead.”
Buffy sat down on the bench, pulled her legs under her body and draped a blanket over her knees. Thank god, the damp hadn’t gotten her yet.

Spike rubbed the fluffy towel over his dripping hair and face but the chill that crawled down his spine stayed. He watched Buffy from the corner of his eyes, seeing her taking a sip from the steaming tea.

He could bet all to nothing that she could hear his heart thumping furiously in his chest. Seeing her yesterday had been like a pro-boxer’s punch in the stomach, unexpected and breath-taking. No matter how tough you think you are, you just falter at the impact.
He hadn’t slept that night, had always seen her surprised face in front of him. And now he was here again.

God, he had missed her so much. Had missed her smile, her voice, the aura of peachy-vanilla scent around her. It was almost too much to bear to see her now. But she looked tired as well. Her honey-blond hair was pulled back in a tight pony-tail and she wore a thick knitted cream-colored sweater she almost drowned in. It seemed sort of out of place at her petite form.

“So…” she began after a while without looking at him.

Spike had just picked up don’t need at the cup, flinched and spilled a few drops on his jeans. He knew that the inevitable was close. He had tried to push it away as far as possible but he had agreed to this. He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it.

He hesitated for a long moment, trying to gather is thoughts to get them out without starting to cry like a little girl. There was enough weakness for both of them as it already was.

Then, he looked up her, only to meet her green eyes which were intently focused on him. He took a deep breath before speaking, “About what I said... that night... I meant it. Every single word.” His gaze never wavered and in retrospect he would be surprise that he had the strength to do so.

“I know.” Buffy replied almost on the spot. She blinked slowly, lowering her eyes as she did and stared into her tea. “But I don’t understand it.”

“Will you hear me out?” he asked, his voice a little tired, strained. He remember his words from their first big talk. It had started almost the same.

“Yes.” she said simply, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. She was chewing on her lip absently, trying not to think about what he might tell her now.

“I loved her.” he began, looking out into the rain-clouded Revello Drive. The tiny droplet were hanging in a fine mist in the air, drifting in the light breeze. This was just right weather to tell such stories. “More than anything. I met her when I was fifteen. I was... a total wuss back then and she just... she altered my life. She... was the first woman I’ve ever been with. She... showed me things, did things to me… She was everything to me. She was my world.” He swallowed and blinked new tears out of his eyes, trying not to let the upcoming emotions stop him. He had to say this now or never. “And then...”, he continued, “she’s gone. She’s just... torn away from me. It’s like when the carpet is ripped from under your feet. And you fall into... nothing. There is nothing.” Despite himself he wiped a tear away that threatened to roll down his cheek.

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and it almost seemed as if it wanted to make it’s way out of his mouth and take a look around.

“And now...” he added after a moment, his voice quivering a little and he swallowed again. “You come along. And it’s just...”, he shook his head indifferently, “if I would loose you now... I couldn’t bear it. I wouldn’t survive it.” And with that he ended.

He stared out into the street, his eyes glistening with tear that threatened to spill. She saw him biting his lower lip to keep it from quivering.

And then, it dawned on her. Now she understood his words from before. Why he couldn’t bare it. The love of his life had been taken away from him. Not only had she broken up with him that very same day but she had also died in the accident. She was just gone.
And now that he was starting to feel for her the same way he was scared that she would be taken away from him, too. That he built the trust in her and than it would be over again. That he opened himself up to her, let her into his word and it would happen again.
He tried to protect himself from being hurt again. From being hurt ever more.

“Do you love me?” she asked bluntly. She already knew the answer, had seen it his eyes, but she just had to ask.

Spike lowered his head and sniffed back another tear. “I tried so hard not to but... yes. Yes, I do.”

She saw the muscles in his jaw clench as he tried to keep himself from sobbing. And she, too, had tears on her eyes. The way he just said it, it sounded too much like a burden, something nasty and unpleasant.

Thick and awkward silence settle in between them, heavy enough to crush the fragile bond between them.

“I... I don’t expect you to understand this but...” Spike began after about five minutes but Buffy cut him off.

“I do.” she almost blurted.

She really hadn’t planned going there now. Or ever again, for that matter. And as she saw him blinking at her in surprise, she already regretted it.

So she hesitated for a moment before she began her part of the story. “When I came here a couple of years ago, I met a guy in my school. He was a little older. And I fell for him right away. He was my first boyfriend, my first real love. On the night of my 17th birthday... we slept with each other.” She sighed, dwelling in the unpleasant memory for a minute. “And as first times with older guys go... he was gone the next day. I didn’t hear from him for the next couple of days. And when he showed up again he was... well, he was different. He started threatening me and my friends, my family. And then... suddenly... he was gone. And I didn’t hear from him ever again.”

She glanced up at him and caught him watching her intently. When their eyes met, he flinched away, staring down into his half-empty mug.

“So I guess, Riley was right when he said that I didn’t love him back the way he did. I just... I don’t trust... guys... very well.” she confessed. She had never told anyone about this. Of course her friends knew it first hand but not the about her emotions.

Spike watched her for a moment before he dared to ask. “Do you trust me?” He knew that it was all he could ask her now. He couldn’t and wouldn’t ask her if she loved him, too. She wouldn’t have an answer to that. He knew it instinctively.

She looked up at him and held his searching gaze for a long minute. She felt her heart skip a little beat before she nodded, “Yes.”

“Do you trust me just because I can’t run away from you?”

Buffy blinked at that. “What?”

Spike broke the eye contact first. “You know what I mean. Do you just... trust me... cause I’m safe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do.” he replied, his voice tainted by a little flicker of anger. “Buffy, I told you what Harmony said to me. There isn’t much I can give you. So I’m just asking. Look, in the last couple of weeks, I... couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about... was you. So... if this is all there is to it, then...” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t think about what was going to happen.

“No.” Buffy replied quickly, understanding his fear, seeing all the pieces his heart and soul had been shattered into. “It’s not about that. I trust you... because.” She nodded for emphasis, hoping that he would see her honesty.

And when he looked at her now, tears were brimming his eyes, making the pale blue seem a little darker now. There was still fear shining in them and all Buffy wanted to do was to crawl inside him and mend his broken heart with all the love she could give.

Wait! Hold on! Love? Did she just think ‘love’?
Well... maybe. But she wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
Trusting him and telling him so was all she was able to give now. And seeing him devastated like that… rushing into things would only complicate everything if not destroy it entirely.

She blinked again as she felt his hand resting on hers. Her eyes traveled along his fingers, his hand and up his arm until she locked her gaze with his.

They just looked at each other for several minutes. It almost seemed as if they were communicating with their eyes only, saying words which didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

Spike’s thumb grazed the skin of the back of her hand slowly before he spoke again. “You think... this’ll work? I mean... you... and me?” The words felt strange on his tongue. He hadn’t even thought about considering them a couple. And he still didn’t do so now.

“If... you give it a chance. I know... it’s not going to be easy and... it might hurt, too, but... I think we can work something out.” She tried to smile a little, trying to lighten up the situation. But she knew that it wasn’t that simple. “If... we take it one step at a time.”

“Yeah... that would be...” Great? Fantastic? More than I ever dreamed of?
He didn’t know which one to pick so he just let the words trail off. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The same smile appeared on Buffy’s face. The inner girl was jumping up and down at the mere thought that he didn’t hate her and that he wanted to see her again, that he loved her. But she didn’t want to get overly exited. It was going to be a hard time for both of them now.

“Speaking of which...” she rose and made a step towards him, settling down on his lap. He looked up at her in surprise. “It’s Christmas... and there is in fact a mistletoe hanging over our heads.” She pointed towards the door where the little green twig dangled from a red ribbon. “So... if I kiss you now... will you kiss me back?”

A moment passed between them.
God, there was nothing he wanted to do more right now. He had longed for that touch since she had kissed him four weeks ago. The thoughts about that had kept him awake most of the time. He was desperate to feel the rushing sensation again that was waiting on her lips.

His smile had changed into a smirk. Even though it was hesitant, it was there. “Try me.”

And so she did.