Spinning The Wheel 28 - Long Time Dead

Buffy took the cup from Spike's hands and set it down on the small table.

He watched her every move and realized that his hands were trembling a little with anticipation.

Despite himself, his fingers slid up her arms and he twirled a strand of her hair around his index finger.

"You really sure about this?" he asked carefully, still a little unsure if it was the right thing to do. Fear shone in his eyes and Buffy entwined her fingers with his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I know that you're scared. This is new for me, too, but I really want it."

For now that was all he needed. He might be a weeping idiot with a whole truckload full of issues to work on but he, too, had hormones that leapt into the driver's seat occasionally. So he took her face between his hands and pulled her closer against his body. He looked up into her eyes and she held his gaze with a reassuring steadiness.

***

The kiss was slow and sweet, just like their first one. Her lips were hot lava melting into glacier ice. It's been a long time since he'd been kissed or since he'd kissed someone like this.

Spike tilted his head to one side and deepened the kiss a little. His tongue darted out to carefully probe at her lips, begging for entrance.

She welcomed him, nipping slightly at his lower lip before letting his tongue slide against hers and into her mouth.

Buffy gave a little whimper and leaned more into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing against the nape and through the short curls there. It sent goosebumps all over his body and she could feel his skin tingle beneath her fingers.

The young man let out a quiet moan - stifled by her lips pressed against his - as her thigh rubbed slightly against some very sensitive body parts.

At that, Buffy broke away from him, panting a little. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, her voice ragged and shaky.

"What?" Spike looked up at her. His eyes had darkened a little and he didn't look quite so tired anymore.

"Did I hurt you?" she repeated, her face set in a concerned frown.

"Oh… that..." he nodded. "No, no. You didn't." he breathed, a little chuckle on the exhale.

"Good." she smirked down at him, running her hand over his neck and down his chest.

He blinked, staring right into her green eyes. Quietly, he hoped that she would see how incredible good he felt right now, see the energy and the passion cursing though his system. He would never be able to find the right words for it, his poetic and song-writing skills be damned. This was beyond words, beyond everything he had ever felt - especially in the last couple of years.

It was sort of a warm feeling, spreading in his belly; the flames quickly devouring his entire body It was the sun in spring after a hard and cold winter; it was hot chocolate sauce on vanilla ice-cream ; it was.. definitely too much to think about.

And that - it - was also a part that he believed to be long time dead. Not that he 'couldn't' - god forbid, he might be pathetic but not that pathetic - it just didn't feel as good as it did now with her weight pressing against it.

"I love you." he said then, quietly and in a hushed tone as if it was something holy.

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, the a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And? Did it hurt?" And this time she didn't talk about body parts.

"Yeah." he plucked a strand of hair that had come undone behind her ear, smiling now, too. "But sort of in a good way."

She beamed at him. "I take that as a compliment." She leaned back into him, brushing her lips against his like butterfly wings, but he pushed her back a little to look into her face.

"Thank you." he said simply, an unreadable expression on his feature.

She frowned at that and slumped down a little. "For what?

"

"For..." he hesitated, "for this. For... being with me despite this." His hand ran over the armrests of the wheelchair. "For.. doing these things to me, for making me feel good, for..."

Before he could actually start babbling, she took his face between her hands and crushed her lips down on his, taking his breath away. The kiss deepened quickly, she melted into him, pressing her body almost flush against his.

His warm hands roamed over her back, trying to memorize every curve and dip he could reach. His fingers raked through the open part of her hair, pulling her as close as possible. He wanted to touch her, feel her, know that she was really there and that it wasn't just some sort of weird dream he was trapped in. If it turned out now that it was just exactly that, he would go clinically insane. He wouldn't be able to bear opening his heart and soul to another person and then being laughed at. Not ever again. He was too fragile and he would only hope that Buffy knew and understood that.

He was drowning in her, totally lost to the sensation of the kiss. So much that his hands traveled down her back and rested on her butt, pulling her body closer with every available inch.

***

They were interrupted by a polite clearing of a feminine throat. Apparently, Buffy didn't hear it. Spike pulled away first, looked at the person and colored brightly.

"Joyce." his voice was a little raspy.

"Joyce?" Buffy's head jerked up as she stared at him for a moment. Then the thought filtered through her brain. "Joyce... Mom!" she whipped around and stared at her mother who's amused gaze rested on the previously smooching couple.

"Seems like the two of you made up." A smile tugged at her lips as Buffy blushed as well.

"You wouldn't believe it, if we said 'no', would you?" The blonde heard Spike chuckling in her ear quietly as he took his hands away from her butt.

"Kinda not, no. Why don't you come inside. It's pretty chilly out here."

"Yeah, I... didn't notice." Buffy replied with a sideways glance at Spike.

"Guess we were... busy." he added and buried his face in her hair, nuzzling at her neck a little.

She shivered at his touch, totally oblivious of Buffy's mother again. "A little, yeah." She wriggled her butt in his lap and he squirmed beneath her. "We better go inside. You're still drenched. Don't want you to catch a cold."

"You're so generous." He smirked up at her.

"Yes, I am."

***

As rough start, followed by a rosy and candy-covered interlude go, they weren't necessarily brought to a happy ending.

It could also end with a massive flu and Buffy playing nurse for almost an entire week.

Spinning the Wheel 29 - I'm not an addict

Now Buffy knew why none of the nurses at the local hospital had objected to releasing Spike as soon as possible.
If he wanted to, he could be the most annoying man in the world. And she thought taking care of Dawn was a pain in the ass. He could be whiny as a baby. Not only that, he was extremely picky about what to eat - the worst thing was that he still refused to sleep in a real bed.

"No, I won't." he snapped and almost pouted, although the effect of his complaint faded due to the light nasal tone of his voice.

Buffy slumped down in the chair opposite the couch where Spike lay, a pillow stuffed under his head and a blanket drawn up around his chest.

"Spike," she sighed heavily, "Will you just stop being such a baby? You have to sleep in a real bed. This is… this is just ridiculous."

"No, I won't. And it's not." he repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buffy could swear that he was pouting for real now. "Give me one good reason to let you stay on that thing."

"Cause I ask you to." Spike replied, sitting up. He felt a little nauseous as he did but he sensed a talk coming up, so he wanted to gather a little dignity.

"Is it because of what's in that room?" she asked and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. She knew that talking about this would be difficult but she wanted to get to the source of this, she wanted to know why he kept being to stubborn…

He just nodded in answer.

"Why do you lock that door? Don't you want people to see it?" Pulling teeth was nothing compared to this.

It took Spike almost a minute to open his mouth. "I don't want to see it.." he said then, his voice flat. He didn't look at the young woman but he could almost feel her frown. He would be frowning, too, if he was her. "In that room... the stuff you've seen there... that's me. I mean... that was me, the man I've been. Before." He gestured towards the wheelchair that stood a little off to one side of the couch within arm's reach.

"You don't want to be reminded?" She knew that pushing him wouldn't do any good but she sensed that it was too hard for him to say it himself. So it was no wonder that he just nodded again. "You want to preserve the memory." she added and he nodded once more.

"I can't be that man ever again. It's over. And this", he rubbed his hands of over his blanket-covered legs, "This is just a shell. It's nothing."

Spike shifted his weight to sit a little more upright, as a pang of sharp pain shot through his body and he winced. Almost on it's own accord, his hand reached for the small orange tube of painkillers on the table. Dropping two of the pills into his palm, he lunged for the glass of water.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy gave a start and jumped to her feet.

He had the tablet already between his teeth, so he just glared at her over the rim of the glass. After he had swallowed, he replied. "It hurts."

"Well, duh." She went over to him and yanked the tube from his hand. "Of course it does. It I told you what the doctor said. Your nerves and muscles are rebuilding, that's what hurts. And you keep blocking the process with these things."

"Buffy, don't be delusional. It's not going to happen." He was a little irritated about her sudden outburst but that changed into anger pretty quickly.

"Well, maybe not. But you could at least give it a chance." With that she stalked over into the kitchen and poured the tube into the sink.

"Are you insane? That stuff costs a fortune." In moments like these, he wished he could run over to her to keep her from doing even more stupid stuff.

"I don't care." she shrugged and tossed the tube into the trashcan.

"Buffy", he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A dull headache began to settle in behind his eyes. "I know that you got good motives. But it won't work. I will never walk again." Saying it still hurt. Lots.

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, the wheels spinning in her mind. "You will not or you don't want to?"

"What?" He blinked in irritation.

She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. "You know what I think? I think you don't want to walk again. You are afraid."

"Are you completely nuts now? How can you say that?" Anger flashed in his eyes and he swung his legs off the couch, facing her now.

"Cause it's true. First I thought that you just didn't believe in it but now I think I got to the real deal here. Being in the wheelchair has changed you, no doubt, but you use it as an excuse. As an excuse to sit back and dwell in your misery, to chase everyone away who cares about you. If you could walk you might have to face living again. And that's what you're afraid of."

For a long minute, Spike just stared at her, then blinked and lowered his eyes. He didn't know what to say. Partly because he was a little dumbstruck by her speech. But mostly because Buffy was right.

She had hit it right on the spot with every single word. Thinking about being able to walk again, to live again, scared the living hell out of him. He had retreated with the bridges burning behind him, with nothing left to come back to. He had no idea what he would do then. He barely scraped by with his writing and he highly doubted that his band would take him back. He had read some reviews of their CDs and gigs, they were making it big and they wouldn't need him anymore.

Spike looked up to see Buffy standing in front of him, holding out a hand to him. A small key glistened between her fingers, the key to the bedroom.

"Please." she said simply, her voice calm and her face resolved.

He held her gaze for a moment before he sighed and took the key from her hand. "Why do you do this to me?"

"You know why." she replied and a thin smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 'Because I'm falling for you and I want to see you smile again' her mind added.

He pulled the wheelchair a little closer and lifted himself over in it. The nausea ghosted through his system and he blinked a couple of times. He really needed to sleep in a real bed.

Without another word he moved past her and out into the hall. Buffy heard the click-clack of a door unlocked. She gave him a moment, then followed him.

***

He sat in front of the closet where his coat dangled from its hanger. His fingers brushed over the worn material and she hear him exhaling a shuddering breath. She knew it must be hell for him but it was for the best.

"It was my trademark. I wore it... everywhere. Especially up on stage. I was… different when I wore it. Stronger. Tougher."

Buffy flinched at his words, that he knew she was there and that he told her this so openly.

Then, he turned around - his eyes grazing her briefly - and moved towards the bed. He stopped and picked up one of the pictures on the nightstand.

"She choose the bed. She said it spoke to her." He smiled thinly, "I never slept in it alone."

His fingers ran over the surface of the picture. She could see deep sorrow flicker over his features before he looked up at her.

"Can you stay here? With me? Tonight?"

Why was it still so hard to talk to her about this? To ask her such questions? They had already slept in one bed. But this was different. This was his bed, his room and he had told her what he felt for her. That didn't make it any easier.

"Sure," she nodded.

"I still... I still have that shirt from… that night when you slept here." he confessed, a blush creeping on his cheeks. "It's in… the living-room." That he had held it in his arms and inhaled her fading scent every night when he had tried to sleep, he left out. He didn't want to make an ever bigger fool out of himself.

"I'll go and change then." With that, she disappeared back into the living-room.

***

Spike was just pulling a shirt he used to sleep in over his head when Buffy came back, in just that shirt again. His eyes travelled down her tanned legs and up over the shirt's hem to the soft curve of her hips and her breasts.

"Huh?" he snapped out of his more or less R-rated thoughts, when she spoke to him.

"You want me to wait outside?" she asked, her posture by the door giving away her awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment but then he shrugged. "No, it's… its okay. If you don't mind seeing a totally ridiculous attempt to get undressed." He covered the rising insecurity with a lame joke.

"Why not? Enlighten me," She shot back, went over to the bed and sat down at the end.

Spike lifted himself over into the bed and untied the cord of his sweats. Buffy watched him as he shifted to one side to pull the pants over his butt, then on the other before he could pull them down his thighs.

"You're right. It's pretty ridiculous." She joked but her tone was serious.

"You've been warned." He slipped out of his pants and threw them over the armrest of the wheelchair. "You mind if I stay in those?", he gestured at his boxer-shirts, "I want to save what little dignity I have left."

"Whatever you like." Buffy crawled backwards on the bed.

Again, he hesitated. He just sat there and stared at his scarred knees.

"Spike, if you're not comfortable with this we can…"

"

No, no. It's... okay. It's just…" he rubbed at his tired eyes.

"It's because this is your bed, right?" Carefully, she reached out to touch his shoulder. He flinched at the touch and then nodded.

She could feel him trembling beneath her hand; he must have tears in his eyes again. Now her conscience kicked back in and she felt guilty for putting him through this. But they both knew that it had to happen sooner or later. If they were supposed to work on a relationship, they had to try and work on all the issues that had piled up between them. And sleeping in one bed - supposedly his, since Buffy's bedroom was on the second floor - was one of them.

Buffy snapped out of her guilty thoughts when Spike laid his hand over her's and entwined his fingers with hers. "I know you're right. I know I have to sleep in a real bed, that I'm scared... it's just that I'm…" His worlds trailed off and he lowered his head again, trying to hide his face from her.

"It's okay. I'm sorry that I'm doing this to you." She shifted closer to him and wrapped her other arm around his shoulder, leaning her head again his back. They stayed like that for a while and she tried to give him all the comfort she could.

It helped to feel her warm body pressed against his, to feel her presence both physically and mentally.

Then, she pulled back from him, drawing him with her. Buffy slipped under the barely used blanket and Spike struggled a little until he got his legs beneath it as well. He lay down on the side he used to sleep on. It felt good actually, much better than the old and battered couch.

Buffy lay on her side, watching him as he tried to settle into a more comfortable position. She tried to push the thought away that this was the bed of Spike and his girlfriend. She was very much aware of the shadow hanging over their heads.

An awkward silence settled in between them and then he turned on his side, facing her. "When I dream… please wake me up."

She nodded quietly, then leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the forehead.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Despite the darkness in the room, they could see each others face clearly.

Buffy could sense that he was still afraid, that tears still made his eyes glisten in the dim light. He was definitely uncomfortable with this but he didn't pull back because of her, she knew and felt it. It almost radiated from him.

Looking at Buffy was like a warm blanket wrapped around his insecurities and fears; she was his anchor, saving him from being swallowed into the depths of utter misery. And he had no words for all the the gratitude he felt.

His heartbeat slowed a little and he closed his eyes, drifting off into sleep.

***

Buffy awoke about an hour or two later when she heard Spike moaning beside her. It wasn't a pleasant moan, it was a nightmare just like he had predicted.

His back was turned towards her, so she pushed herself up on her elbow, reached out putting her hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

"What?" he jerked around, as far as his half-paralyzed body would go and stared at her, in what could best be described as bone-rattling shock.

"You were having a nightmare." She told him, in a soothing voice.

He blinked, trying to shift gears around that and then the familiar memory came rushing back. "Oh… right." He sounded as if he was talking to himself. He stared into the darkness, his eyebrows twitching along with the gruesome pictures burned into the back of his mind.

Finally, he turned fully towards her and looked at her for a long moment. She was watching him calmly. She had no idea what to do now. But his pleading eyes gave her a hint only a second later.

So Buffy lay back down reaching out her arm to him and without another word, he snuggled closer, his head resting on her shoulder. She looked down at him. Maybe he hadn't been fully awake but his eyes closed almost immediately.

Mirroring their first night together, she wrapped both her arms around his shoulders, drawing him more towards her. She breathed in his scent and gave him a tender kiss on the head, letting him know she was there. Then she closed her eyes and slowly drifted to sleep along with him.

It wasn't a surprise to either of them that there weren't any more nightmares for him that night.

Spinning The Wheel 30 – Enough Is Enough

Grey December sun peaked though a crack in the curtains and dipped the rom in a dim, almost sad light.

Usually a light like that wouldn’t have done anything to the sleeping Buffy but this morning she awoke just by the faint chance of lighting in the room.

Slowly, she blinked her way into consciousness and it took her a moment to take in her surroundings.

She was in Spike’s bed who was sound asleep right beside her.

He was lying on his back with one arm draped over this eyes as if he was trying to keep the annoying light out of his system. She could hear him snoring quietly and he wrinkled his nose now and then. It was probably the sweetest thing she’d ever seen but god knew that she would never tell him that.

The blanket was draped loosely around his legs, leaving the right one open to her eye and his scars all too visible.

Her fingers darted out to touch the vulnerable pink skin again. She remembered the way he had watched her when she’d touched his skin for the first time.

She knew that it was rather impolite but she just had to do it. So she reached out carefully and her fingers ghosted over his skin. Of course he wouldn’t feel it but she was still overly careful. Her fingertips traced over the baby-sweet skin of the scar that wound up around his knee and she followed it up to where it disappeared underneath the blanket.

Sadness flickered over her face as she remembered the horrible story these scars told, how much misery they mirrored.

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

Spike’s voice startled her so much that she jerked her hand back as if burned.

"Oh.. hi." She smiled sheepishly. "Thought you.. didn’t feel that."

"Well, I don’t. But I’m paralysed, not blind." He quirked an eyebrow at her and took his arm completely from his eyes.

"I’m.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.. manhandle you."

Spike smirked at that. "No, it’s.. it’s okay. I bet that it.. felt nice." A small blush crept on his cheeks. "I mean.. I can only judge from when you.. uhm.. changed those bandages. That was.. okay."

"Yeah, what about that? It’s all healed up?"

He couldn’t quite deny that he was a little disappointed about the sudden change of events. "Yeah, it’s all good." He pulled his shirt up to reveal the zig-zagging scars on his chest. Another gruesome story.

Instinctively, Buffy’s hand darted out and Spike shuddered visibly under her touch. He closed his eyes and licked his lips.

"Yeah… it feels good." He thought aloud.

"Why did you try to cut it out?" Buffy asked bluntly, her fingers still resting on his skin, and he blinked in confusion. "You said that you tried to cut it out when I found you that day. Why?"

Silence. Almost two minutes neither of them spoke.

He didn’t want to go there. At all. Spike successfully avoided her gaze, before he finally sighed. "It hurt too much." He made a melodramatic pause before he continued. "What Harmony said that day… it struck home. She said that.. I wasn’t good enough.. for you. And I thought she was right. I knew I would never have a chance and.. it just hurt too much."

He had sworn to himself that he would never tell her about that had really brought him to the point where he wanted to kill himself but he knew that it had been inevitable. Buffy wouldn’t have believed any lie he told her.

Buffy looked at him with tears brimming her eyes. Deep down, she had sensed that he had something to do with it but not in such a profound way. She had been the trigger for all this.

And besides that, a little thought clawed it’s way into her brain. He had this feelings for her even back then? And she didn’t see it?

Out of reflex, she leaned forward and gave him a quick but deep kiss. She rested her forehead against his and they lingered like that for a moment before she pulled back. "Do you regret it?"

Spike frowned at that and waited a moment for her to specify her question.

"Do you regret that you sued me? After the accident?" Buffy was chewing on her bottom lip, afraid of his answer. She looked at him, seriously.

Spike shrugged. "Wasn’t my idea."

"Huh?"

"I didn’t want to sue you. Willy came to me in the hospital. Said he could help me making some money if I let him take it to the court. And at that point I was pissed enough to believe him." He lowered his head a little guiltily.

"Yeah.. but do you regret it?" Buffy asked again.

Again, silence settled between them. "At first, I did." Spike said that. "I didn’t want to have anybody around. Especially.. not you. You were…"

"Awfully annoying, sticking my nose in things that weren’t my business and being the most obnoxious person in the world?" Buffy continued.

"Sad but undeniable, yeah. " he joked but got serious again a second later. "But although I hated it at first.. I’m kinda glad that.. you were there. It felt really good to talk to someone."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, drowning in his honest, open gaze. It was amazing how much had changed since they had met for the first time.

About half a year ago he had barely said more than words in a row and with her even less. He had closed himself up, locked himself away like the stuff in his bedroom. He had hidden behind a high wall of self-defence and even if they were still working on tearing that wall down, there were already tiny holes in it through which she could take a peak at the real Spike.

She knew that it would still take a lot of time of him to deal with all the stuff that had happened but her hope was strong enough that they would work it out sooner or later.

"I’m sorry." She said suddenly, tearing them both out of their thoughts.

Spike blinked and raised an eyebrow at her.

Buffy lowered her gaze and sighed before she continued. "You didn’t really give me a chance to apologize when.. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you.. what I knew about.. your accident." He shifted beside her, bringing his weight underneath him to sit upright. "I knew it was wrong, I just.. I had to know but.. I didn’t know how to tell you. I know that.. you would be angry. I’m sorry."

Spike looked at her for a long moment. He could almost feel the regret radiating from her. He knew she was more than serious about it, he’d already seen it that day. But he couldn’t take her apologize that day.

"I trusted you.. more than anyone else." He began after a while, looking at her with almost sad eyes. "I told you more about me that I never thought I would. I know now that it wasn’t enough. I should have been more honest with you. I should have talked about this." He pointed towards the wardrobe where his coat was still a remnant of his past. "But.. you have to understand that I couldn’t. I just.. I just couldn’t. And it still hurts. It didn’t mean to.. cut you off, I just.. it was too much. There are still.. things I can’t talk about. I know that it’s not what you want, but.. that’s all I can give you right now."

Silence fell between them. Silence, thick and heavy, but also a silence that didn’t need to be broken. They had their marks settled for now.

"So.. you take my apology?" Buffy asked then, her eyes glittering hopefully.

"If you take mine."

She snuggled against him and took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It’s enough." She nodded and smiled sweetly.

Spike ran his hands through her hair, wrapping one strand around his index finger index finger. He wouldn’t deny that he was close to tears and it cost him much effort to fight them back. Deep down, he was surprised that she actually understood him, that she wasn’t asking for more than he could give her now. But he also know that she was holding back, too, that she had problems trusting people. It wasn’t the best way to start a relationship but he needed her too much as to worry about that.

Slowly, he pulled her closer, locking his gaze with her’s.

Their lips met as light as butterfly wings, tasting each other, coming closer step by careful step. He sucked at her bottom lip, nibbling at it a little with his teeth.

Her tongue darted out to touch his and her arms slipped around his neck. She felt it fingers gliding into her hair and to the back of her neck. Common sense was checking out just then, saying goodbye for a short-trip to Paris, and she carefully slipped into his lap.

Spike didn’t complain. With one hand, he held her head and the other slipped around her tiny waist, pulling her closer. He was drowning in her kiss, just like he had when they’s kissed for the first time a few weeks back. He would never forget the way her lips felt on his.

Along with the rhythm of their kisses, Buffy started moving her hips a little, gyrating against him. It took her a minute to register the effect that had on him and she grinned against his mouth.

She let her hands travelled down his chest, continuing her movement, and her right hand slipped between their bodies.

He groaned against her lips, his eyes rolling back but he grabbed her gently by her forearms and pushed her away from him. His eyes were still closed and he licked his lips, trying to get his common sense back together.

"Don’t." Spike’s voice sound rough, a little strained.

Buffy looked at him, trying to understand. She looked down his body and raised an eyebrow. Did she do something wrong? Did she hurt him? "Spike?" she asked hesitantly.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. They were darker than usual and he took a long breath to steady himself. "I’m sorry, I.. I can’t."

Buffy frowned even more. "But.." She slipped from his lap and plopped down on the mattress again, looking at him.

"It’s not… what you think." He nodded towards his groin. Yeah, that, he did feel. And he wanted to feel it again, he was literally aching for it. "I.. I just can’t." He blushed a little.

This was going all too well. First, they had to talk about this fateful night when Harmony had appeared on his doorstep and now they had to talk about that. That was definitely too much for one morning.

"Care to explain it?" Buffy tried not to sound too disappointed. Things had gone pretty well this morning, no fights, no great misunderstandings and some touchy feelings. That was all she wanted. She wanted to be with him, getting the whole relationship package. And now he was pushing her back.

He lowered his eyes. His left-over dignity was on the brink and he was afraid to loose that it along with her. It was the reason why Harmony had left him back then and he didn’t want to loose Buffy, too. That would be too much. He breathed slowly, carefully sorting out his words.

"I know it sounds.. totally stupid and chauvinistic but.. I can’t do it like this. When.." he stopped, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t look at her. It was simply too embarrassing. "When we.. do this I… I want to.. make love to you and I can’t.. do it like this. I don’t want you to do some sort of noble act or something. That would be… I’m not ready to go that far."

Buffy studied him for over a minute. Her thoughts were way too jumbled to be squeezed into sentences or even words. What could she possibly say to that?

Tears started forming in her eyes and her hands started shaking a little.

Finally, Spike raised his eyes to look at her, a nervous expression on his features. Why didn’t she say something? Was she going to run away and leave him alone now?

"Can you say something?" he asked then, his voice quivering with anticipation.

She shook her head slowly. "No." Then, she shifted and snuggled back again his side, her arm reaching around his waist.

Spike looked down at the young woman. On his own accord, his arm slipped about her shoulders, drawing her closer. Her warmth was something he had missed for so long, just to be with someone felt incredible. But he was still waiting for an answer. And that was nagging on him.

Finally, Buffy spoke. "You’re pretty brave saying that, you know?" She swallowed. "I get that. Take as much time as you need, okay? But.. if you want me to make you feel really good…" she chuckled again his chest, her fingers curling against his stomach. "Just let me know, okay?"

He chuckled, too, then said, kissing her on the head, "You can count on that, luv."