Title: Braking The Rules
Author: Lilly
Email: lilly@as.ro
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, just borrowing. will return them as good as new (well, maybe a little bit more satisfied ;) )
Author's Note: this is Spuffy fluff and smut. if you don’t like it, I’m not making you read it. you have been warned.

What is it with certain people that they simply can’t give up? I find myself wondering that very often lately.

It happened a month ago. We were supposed to go in, slay some vamps and get out. Instead we went in, found no vamps and he told me.

It made me so mad I could have broken his jaw. Why the hell did he have to say it? Like I hadn’t noticed his eyes, icy blue, always on me. Like it didn’t occur to me the way he was always there, ready to help, no matter the consequences. Like I hadn’t memorized his scent all those nights he insisted on patrolling with me. Leather, musk, blood, power… him. Aaaaargh!!

“Owww!”

Great, Buffy. Why don’t you break your other toe, too, while you’re at it. Ow. Ow. Ow… note to self: hop, don’t step on foot. Where’s a bench when you need one?

“You ok, Slayer?”

“None of your business, Spike. I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“And when did I ever do what you told me to?”

“Bite me!”

“You’d love it, Slayer.”

“You’re a pig, Spike.”

“Oink, oink.”

Why doesn’t he just go away? I bet if I turned around right now that infuriating smirk would be there on his face. And was that a chuckle I heard? And don’t limp, damn it!

I make my way towards home, with him still at my heels. My eyes look straight ahead when I go in and he has to stay out. I know what I’d see. The same look that was on his face when he found himself uninvited from my home. I almost caved in that night. Only desperation made me strong. But now… after missing him so long I would surely ask him in again.

Yeah, you heard me. I miss him. Terribly. I ache to be near him, and when I am my heart bleeds from the harsh words I force myself to throw at him. What else can I do? He’s a vampire, I’m the Slayer. We’re not supposed to… we’re not supposed to love each other.

My room seems empty, cold, like a crypt. Except I know I’d feel so much better in one certain crypt… I draw the blinds and lay down on my bed, trying so hard not to wish his arms around me. I fail. Mr. Gordo looks at me with sad, knowing eyes.

“What can I do?” I whisper.

“Tell him.” I hear the hushed answer.

My eyes turn to the door I had forgotten to close and I see my best friend standing there. She knows, too. She’s always known. And for some strange reason I’ve never seen disappointment or disgust in her eyes.

“I can’t, Willow.”

“Why not?”

“The rules…”

“Rules aren’t the same anymore. We used to fight vampires and demons. Now we’re up against a hellgod. Before you were just like any other Slayer. Now you’ve almost outlived them all. Don’t you see, Buffy? Things change. And life is too precious to live it by idiotic rules. Make your own rules!”

I stare at my friend, wanting to do as she tells me to, but…

“I’m scared. So scared of doing the wrong thing, Wills. I have to take care of Dawn. I have to protect her from Glory and those knights… I can’t… What if I get distracted? What then?”

“Buffy… You’re not alone in this.”

“In the end I am, Wills. No one but me can strike the final blow. I am alone.”

“But you don’t have to be! Goddess, Buffy! Why can’t you let yourself be happy for a change? Would that be so bad?”

I try to speak, really I do. I want to say something to prove to her, and me, that I’ve been doing what’s right. That I haven’t been making a mistake. But the words just don’t want to come. And I realize that I have been so stupid.

Then the tears come and I cry into my pillow, gentle hands caressing my hair. They’re comforting, but not the ones I crave. And I make my decision.

My footsteps are loud on the damp grass as I run. There isn’t much light and the sudden rain makes everything even darker. But I don’t have to see. I know this place by heart.

I push the door open carefully. No need to slam it, I’m not going for tough girl tonight. The upper level is dark but there’s a slight light coming from downstairs. My heart is beating frantically and my throat is dry. What will I say?

Spike isn’t here. Maybe he left, finally sick of the way I’m treating him. His Sex Pistols CD is still here.. he wouldn’t leave without it, would he? What if he got hurt? What if someone got in a lucky shot and killed him? What if... what if I never get the chance to tell him..?

My legs give out and I sit heavily on the bed. And my hands are trembling uncontrollably. Why won’t they stop? I stare at my fingers and will them to be still, but it’s as if they’re not mine anymore. And they’re so cold it chills my entire body. A drop of moisture falls on the back of my hand and I realize I’m crying again. I wipe the tears away, but others take their place. At least my arms will cooperate with me, if my fingers and eyes won’t.

Then I feel a soft touch on my shoulder and I open watery eyes to see Spike kneeling in front of me. I didn’t even hear him come down. My hair is wet, my eyes are red and puffy, I’m in serious need of a handkerchief.. I must be an awful sight. But he looks at me like I’m the greatest miracle on this Earth.

“Spike..” I manage with some semblance if clarity.. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But that’s all I can say before I’m sobbing. He lifts me, places me on his lap and holds me tight. My face is buried against his neck and his fingers comb through my hair.. delicate, soothing, loving. And I cry harder, fists clenching his duster. His voice is whispering in my ear, sweet nothings meant to make me feel safe.. but I feel so ashamed. How could I have treated him with so little consideration? How could I have done.. what I did?? I’m the monster, not him.

It feels like I’ve cried an eternity, but I finally run out of tears. My head hurts, and that handkerchief has become a national emergency. Of course, as if he’s reading my mind, he’s handing me one. I blow my nose and the sound makes me cringe. I did not just do that in front of him! His soft chuckle lets me know that yes, I did, but he doesn’t mind. I hit him lightly in the chest and this time we both laugh. I sigh. Here goes nothing.. or everything, in this case.

“Tell me what’s wrong, pet?”

I lift my eyes to his face and just look at him. He’s got that half smile on his lips that tells me he’s completely lost. I raise one hand to his cheek, damp fingers caressing sharp cheekbones, and I notice his hair is wet and curly, as if he’s just had a shower. Nice image...

“I made a huge mess.” I explain, and I have to clear my throat ‘cause my voice is so strange. I try again. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He’s speechless. I honestly never saw that look on his face before. And I know, beyond any doubt, that I’m making the right choice. So I kiss him. Soft, gentle, perfect kiss. And then I look into his blue eyes and whisper.

“I love you.”

It takes him a few good seconds to get his brain to work around that little tidbit of information, then a huge smile spreads on his lips. And suddenly I find myself pressed into the mattress, Spike on top of me and his mouth kissing me dizzy. Spike lips. Lips of Spike. God, how I missed them!




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