Chapter 15
It was just a few minutes before noon as Dawn and Buffy made their way up the long narrow staircase that led to the fencing academy. The stairs and the walls were covered in a light gray marble. At the top of the stairs was a large, heavy wooden door. The door stood slightly ajar and so Buffy pushed it open and entered into the reception area. There was an old desk to the immediate left that was, for the moment, unoccupied. Behind it was a rack with masks, foils, and jackets. To her right was an archway and drifting through it was the sound of metal striking against metal, the occaissional buzzing noise, and one very recognizable, “Bollocks!”
Buffy smiled as she took Dawn’s hand and walked with her through the entryway. It was just one vast room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the brightly colored flags with coats of arms that hung from the ceiling. The floor was wooden and there were lines painted on it, dividing it into rows or sections. The walls were a dull gray, but generously adorned with various swords and shields.
Several of the fencers were standing on the sidelines, watching as the two men continued their bout. Even with a mask on, Buffy recognized Spike. He recovered quickly from the hit and got back into position.
“That one was on target,” said the young man that was standing off to the side.
Spike was standing sideways, his left foot facing his opponent, his right foot straight out, and his knees bent, in the en garde position. He held the foil in his outstretched, gloved left hand. His right arm was held behind him, out of the way and at a 90-degree angle.He was wearing the traditional white pants, and a jacket that was covered with a silver lame vest. A body cord ran from the back of the vest up to a scoring machine.
“Who’s winning?” whispered Buffy, quietly, to one of the bystanders.
“New guy, Spike,” he said. “That’s the first valid touch anyone’s been able to get all morning. He’s good, really good.”
The score was currently 4:1, in favor of Spike. He lunged forward, attacking his opponent with lightening speed. Wes parried, effectively blocking the initial attack. Spike stepped back in retreat. Parry, repost, parry, lunge; the sequence replayed, both men’s movements became a blur. Spike was amazing. His agility, coordination and balance allowed him to parry and block attack after attack. His timing was flawless. He patiently waited for just the right moment, and it came. As soon as he gained the right of way he moved in aggressively with a beat attack, scoring the final touch and winning the bout.
Wes was the first to remove his mask, his face was dripping with sweat, “Well, at least I got a touch in this time,” he said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Spike pulled off his own mask. His hair was wet from perspiration and stood up on end as he ran his hand threw it. “That last feint through me, won’t happen again. What time is it anyways?”
“Time to go. Besides, it look’s like your ride’s here,” said Wes nodding towards the direction of Buffy and Dawn.
When Spike turned around Buffy gave him a little wave. His heart was still pounding and he was practically bouncing on his toes from the workout. The adrenalin coursing through his body gave him a giddy, almost intoxicating feeling. He smiled broadly as he walked over towards Buffy and Dawn. “Did you catch any of that?” he asked.
“You won!” replied Buffy cheerfully.
Spike wrapped his arm around her waist, and dipped her backwards, just like he did that first time, “Yes, I did. I always win.”
“You’re dripping sweat on me, and people are staring,” whispered Buffy.
“Let them, they’re jealous. To the victor go the spoils, luv,” responded Spike before kissing her softly on the lips.
“I’m spoils now?” asked Buffy as he stood her back up.
“Nah!” said Spike waving his hand. “I just felt like kissing someone. You happen to be the prettiest one in the room at the moment. But, give the Bit a few more years and she’s going to be giving you a run for your money.”
Spike stopped talking, stepped back and looked appraisingly at both of them. “You got your hair done.”
“I had an appointment at Jean-Claudes. It was time for a trim, that’s all. While I was there I asked him to cut Dawn’s hair too. It looks much healthier now, don’t you think?” she asked Spike as she ran her fingers through Dawn’s hair.
“Beautiful,” he said, looking down at her.
Dawn looked at him and returned the smile.
“Nice to see you again, Dawn. I’m Wes, by the way,” said Wesley as he extended his hand towards Buffy.
“Buffy,” she said, returning his handshake.
“Listen, Spike, I’m gonna run. I’m on a mission to find a sitter for tonight. It’s our anniversary and our sitter cancelled just this morning. She came down with that horrid flu. I wanted to thank you. Same time next Saturday?”
“You’re on!” agreed Spike. “Hey, we’re just doing pizza and a movie at home. We can watch the little tyke.”
“You serious?” asked Wes.
“Of course! I’ve been listening to Fred talk about this anniversary celebration all bloody week. I’d hate for you to have to cancel,” explained Spike.
“It’ll only be for a few hours. I could drop Owen off on our way to the restaurant. Is around seven alright?” asked Wes.
“Seven it is,” said Spike. “Look, since we’re going straight to the beach I’m going to grab a quick shower. You two alright just hanging out and watching for a bit?”
“No problem,” said Buffy as she walked over to sit in one of the chairs that were along the sidelines.
Two hours later Buffy and Spike were settled comfortably on a blanket at the beach. There was a chill in the air and spike had lit a fire in the fire pit. They had stopped on the way at a deli for sandwiches.Spike noticed a broken up wooden pallet leaning against the wall of the alley next to the deli on the way out and he had insisted on loading it into the trunk of Buffy’s car. “Now, admit it, the pallet was a good idea.”
“The pallet was a good idea,” acknowledged Buffy. “The meatball sandwich, however? That was a bad idea, a very bad idea. I can hardly move. You may have to carry me back!” said Buffy, with a groan, as she shifted to lie down on the blanket.
The soft sounds of a child’s laugh drifted back to them. Buffy leaned up on her elbows and followed Spike’s gaze. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes and watched as Dawn chased the seagulls on the beach. She would stealthy approach first one unsuspecting bird and then another. Unfailingly as she got within four or five feet the bird would take off, fly a few yards, and then land again in the sand. Spike reached across the blanket for Buffy’s hand. She laced her fingers between his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s only been a day and already I feel like I’ve made a difference. Not a big difference, but a difference.”
“She’s got a long way to go,” agreed Spike. “But you have to celebrate every incremental gain. It’s all good, Buffy. Did you bring the picture?”
“Yeah,” she said as she reached for Spike’s wooden art supply box, opened it, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to him. “What did you ask her to draw?”
“A picture of her family,” said Spike as he studied the picture, his brow creased. “She didn’t use any color,” he observed. “Look how empty it is, how little detail, and this is interesting,” said Spike pointing at the two obviously adult figures, “no ears.”
“Maybe she forgot them?” suggested Buffy.
“It’s significant. It could be more about her feeling unheard. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t talk. I mean, we’ve assumed she stopped talking when your mother died, it could go back long before that. Let’s call her old school on Monday, and see is we can find out anything. She has ears on herself. And look, see how they’re disproportionate, almost too big?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said Buffy looking more closely at the picture, “and look at the size of Ted’s mouth.”
“He was a yeller?” asked Spike.
“Yeah,” said Buffy. “I mean, at least I’m assuming so. I wasn’t really around him very long.”
“Why did you leave?” asked Spike, setting the drawing aside.
“Why did I leave?” she repeated. “I guess I left because…because she chose him over me. He moved in and immediately wanted to control…everything. This guy, an older guy had asked me out on a date. I accepted but when I was getting ready to go, Ted said I couldn’t. We argued and he sent me to my room.”
“But you went anyways,” asked Spike.
“Yes,” admitted Buffy. “Come early morning I tried to climb back in through my bedroom window later, I couldn’t. He had nailed all the windows shut. I used my key and entered through the front door. The house was dark. I went back to my room just in time to hear my morning alarm going off for school. He was waiting for me. He had searched the entire place, went through all my things, he was just sitting there, reading my diary and…and laughing. He was laughing at all my hopes, my dreams.”
“Your innermost thoughts,” added Spike.
“I grabbed for the diary and he held it out of reach, taunting me. As I jumped for it I scratched him and he backhanded me. I fell I crashing into a nightstand, and breaking the table lamp. The noise coupled with the yelling was enough to break through mom’s latest hangover. I was so glad to see her, standing there in the doorway of my room,” said Buffy
“You thought she would protect you, take your side, but she didn’t,” interjected Spike.
“It's because you didn't have a strong father figure, isn't it?” said Joyce, wearily as she rubbed her temples. “That’s why you’re so rebellious.”
“I'm sorry, Mom, but I don't have time for this. I’ve got to get to school,” replied Buffy.
“You know? No! I am tired of 'I don't have time' or-or 'you wouldn't understand.' I am your mother, and you will make time to explain yourself. That school is just putting ideas into your head,” countered Joyce.
“She thinks she’s going to college,” chuckled Ted. “She thinks she’s smart enough to get a scholarship. You’re grounded”
“I have to go! Mom, I have three tests today. My grades, they’re important,” pleaded Buffy
“No. I am not letting you out of this house,” declared Ted.
“You can't stop me from going to school,” shouted Buffy, tearfully as she quickly packed her backpack.
“You walk out of this house, don't even think about coming back!” shouted Joyce.
“Where on earth did you stay?” asked Spike as he reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek.
“In a crypt, in a cemetery,” said Buffy.
“A crypt? You’re putting me on!” laughed Spike. Then he tilted his head to the side, pursed his lips and said, “Sorry. You’re serious.”
“Yes. The guy I was seeing, Angel. His father was the caretaker of the local cemetery and he helped out, maintaining some of the crypts. He let me stay in one of them,” explained Buffy.
“What happened with you and Angel?” asked Spike as he reached for his sketchpad and a pencil.
“Think I still dream of a crypt for two with a white picket fence? I don’t. My eyes cleared. It took a long time, and it got bad, really bad. Frankly that’s a story for another day. Your turn, tell me about something that terrifies you,” suggested Buffy, changing the subject.
“Mimes,” said Spike.
“Mimes?” repeated Buffy.
“Uh-huh,” responded Spike as he continued to sketch.
“Why?” asked Buffy.
“I have no idea,” answered Spike. “But they’ve always…”
“Given you the wiggins?” interjected Buffy.
“Yeah,” admitted Spike as he continued to sketch.
Several minutes passed. Buffy moved, looked over Spikes shoulder and asked, “What are you drawing there?”
“Nothing yet, it’s really rough,” he replied lowering the sketchpad and blocking her view.
“Come on, show me,” coaxed Buffy as she dragged a finger up and down the side of his neck.
“Are you flirting with me?” asked Spike, smiling to himself.
“No!” insisted Buffy.
“Cause this feels a bit like flirting,” added Spike.
“This isn’t flirting. This is supposed to be a distracting enticement. It’s meant to cloud your mind so you forget that your not wanting to show me the picture,” said Buffy as she continued to drag her finger up and down the side of his neck. “Is it working?”
“Do that with your tongue and we have a deal,” said Spike, absently as he looked out across the sand again at Dawn and the seagulls.
And she did it, without thought, without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
As Spike returned his attention to his sketchpad he felt it. The tip of her tongue as she slowly dragged it from the base of the side of his neck all of the way up to just behind his ear. The ocean breeze quickly cooled the trail of warm moisture that she left behind causing him to shiver. Or, perhaps he had started to shiver as soon as he realized that her mouth was on him, tasting him.
“Was that a cold shiver or a ‘that was nice’ shiver,” she whispered in his ear.
“Bit of both, I think. You surprised me,” he said as he twisted around so that he could look her in the eye.
“Next time I’m upping the ante,” he said as he tossed her the sketchpad.
Buffy looked down at the sketch. It was clearly of Dawn, chasing the seagulls on the beach, only Spike had given her, her own set of wings. It was beautiful.
“Just for my own information. If I have set the price at a blowjob-” began Spike.
“A world of no,” said Buffy as she continued to study the drawing. “And tell me, how can you be drawing something so sweet and beautiful and be thinking about blowjobs?”
“Blowjobs are sweet and beautiful,” said Spike with a look of complete innocence on his face. “At least I’ve always thought so. Besides, guy here, remember?”
“Spike? Have you always been so forward about sex? You do realize it’s a bit unnerving, don’t you?” asked Buffy.
“Sorry. And no. I’ve had to develop a comfort level. There was a time when things between Drusilla and I…well, they weren’t good anymore. We had been together for a long time but I found that I was having a hard time communicating with her, expressing my sexual needs. It felt…embarrassing. I struggled with it, went to see a therapist finally. She wouldn’t come with me, so I went alone. I worked on it. I worked on it a lot, actually,” revealed Spike.
“I thought maybe it had to do with your work,” suggested Buffy.
“Not really. That’s not so much about being able to talk about it as it is about being empathic. When I started I was in Initial Services, so I was often the first one to go out and interview a kid. They’re scared; many of them are so young they don’t even have the vocabulary to describe what’s happened to them. The last thing they need is someone that’s going to get skittish on them, make them feel judged or uncomfortable in any way,” explained Spike.
“You must hear some horrible things,” said Buffy.
“That’s the truth,” said Spike as he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the darkening sky. “We should probably get going, especially if we’re going to stop at the video and grocery stores on the way home.”
“I wish you had been there then,” said Buffy.
“Then?” prompted Spike.
“I called back then. I called the hotline. I told them about my mom’s drinking and how she was pregnant. I told them about Ted hitting me. I told them I wasn’t living there any more, but that I was worried… about the baby. The person I spoke with said that there really wasn’t much they could do. Oh, they told me that I should call back if I witnessed anything further, but that would have meant going back. And I couldn’t. I just…couldn’t,” finished Buffy.
Spike stood up and held out his hand. She carefully placed her hand inside his and allowed him to pull her to her feet and into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and kissed her on the top of her head. “You feel guilty.”
“And ashamed. Once I got out of Sunnydale I was so focused on myself, my future, I just never looked back,” revealed Buffy.
“You were just a child yourself, pet,” soothed Spike. “Your response was understandable. Don’t judge yourself too harshly. You did the best you could do at the time.”
“Thanks,” said Buffy as she pulled back slightly and once again looked over at Dawn. “I want to make up for it. Do you think that’s possible? Do you believe I can change things for her?”
“Absolutely,” said Spike with complete conviction. “Don’t you realize? You already have.”
Chapter 16
“Spike, this is Owen,” said Fred as she handed him the car seat.
Spike lifted the car seat and placed it on the dining room table, “Oh we’re going to have a great time, aren’t we Owen?”
“Everything you need is in this bag,” Fred started to explain as Dawn and Buffy entered the apartment carrying a large pizza box. “He’ll need to eat probably soon after he wakes up. The car always puts him to sleep. I suspect this will just be a short cat-nap.”
“Hey!” said Buffy as she set the pizza on the table.
“Buffy, Dawn, you remember Wes,” said Spike in introduction. “This is his wife, Fred and this,” said Spike as he rocked the car seat slightly, “is little Owen.”
“He’s so tiny,” remarked Buffy as she peered in at the slumbering babe, “How old is he?”
“Just three months,” said Fred. “I’ve just been back to work for a couple weeks now. This is actually going to be our first night out and-” Fred trailed off.
“It’ll be fine,” assured Spike. “You have our number. I’ve got Wes’ cell. Go and enjoy yourselves.”
“We really appreciate this, Spike,” said Wes extending his hand.
Spike grasped his hand in a firm handshake and responded, “No problem.”
No sooner had the couple walked out the door did little Owen wake up.
“He may be little, but he’s awfully loud,” said Buffy as she looked at him with a little trepidation.
Spike had just carried the pizza into the living room and was now in the process of retrieving plates and napkins, “Does he need to be changed?”
“Changed?” asked Buffy with a puzzled expression on her face.
“His nappies, luv,” said Spike as he pulled out a beer from the fridge. “Want one?” he offered.
“No. Beer bad,” said Buffy shaking her head.
Spike twisted the cap off and took several swallows before saying, “I think I’m going to just agree to disagree on that point.”
“Okay, let me have a sip,” said Buffy reaching for it.
“I thought you didn’t like it?” said Spike, smiling.
“Maybe I’ve changed by mind,” replied Buffy before tilting the bottle to her lips and taking a sip. “Blech!” she said, pulling a face and shivering uncontrollably.
“Or, maybe not,” added Spike. “Diet Coke?”
Buffy nodded.
“Here,” said Spike as he handed her the Coke. He then set his beer down on the table, unbuckled Owens car seat, and lifted the babe up, cradling him to his chest. Spike took another sip of his beer as he gently bounced up and down. “There there, poppet,” soothed Spike. There’s nothing to cry about. Uncle Spike is here. Buffy, can you serve me up a slice of pizza?” asked Spike as he began to walk a path back and forth behind the sofa.
“Sure,” said Buffy who served up plates for the three of them. “Ready for the movie?”
Dawn nodded and Buffy inserted the DVD. Within a few seconds Owen’s crying ceased. “Buffy, can you get his bottle?” asked Spike.
“He needs to be changed. Do you want to help, Bit? Grab the diaper bag.”
Spike laid Owen down on the rug in front of the TV and then unsnapped the closure of his pajamas so that he could pull his little feet out. “Look how tiny his toes are, Bit. You started out this small. You ever change a baby?”
Dawn shook her head, reached down, and with her fingertip she gently tickled the bottom of one of Owens feet. The sensation made him retract his leg and she pulled back, slightly alarmed.
“It’s okay,” explained Spike. “It probably just tickled.”
Buffy watched on as he guided Dawn through the steps of changing Owen. “Here, you hold him while we go and wash our hands. You can start feeding him,” suggested Spike.
“I-I don’t want to hold him,” said Buffy stepping back, quickly.
Spike froze, stunned. “I mean, I’ve never held a baby. I’m not sure how and I-”
“Don’t be daft, it’s simple, here,” said Spike as he handed over the child, positioning Buffy’s arms and hands around it. “You’re an intelligent woman with a college degree that runs her own business. You can hold a baby.”
The evening passed quickly. Buffy held and fed Owen while Spike and Dawn ate and then Spike heated up some pizza for Buffy, grabbed himself another beer, and took over ‘Owen duty’. As the movie came to a close Owen resumed fussing. “I think he’s getting tired,” explained Spike as he stood up and tried walking with him again.
Dawn picked up the remote control for the television and changed the station to the Cartoon Network. “Just one more hour, and then bedtime,” declared Buffy.
“Ok,” said Dawn absorbed in the show.
Buffy and Spike’s eyes met and he shook his head slightly. She said nothing.
“I think I’m gonna take Owen back to my room for a bit,” said Spike. “It’ll be darker, quieter, maybe he’ll fall asleep.”
Buffy cleaned up the dishes from their dinner and sat down on the sofa next to Dawn. Within minutes Dawn had moved closer to her. Instinctively Buffy wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder and the two of them sat, cuddled together, and for the first time ever, Buffy watched the PowerPuff Girls.
It was close to ten when she heard the buzzing of the intercom. Dawn was already down for the night and Spike and Owen had yet to re-emerge. She let Wes in.
“Sorry,” he said as he entered the apartment and noticed that Buffy was already ready for bed. “We’re a bit later than we expected.”
“It’s okay,” responded Buffy waving him into the apartment. “I was up reading. The boys are hanging out in Spike’s room.”
Wes followed her as she walked back to Spike’s bedroom door, knocked softly, and then pushed the door open. Spike was in his leather chair, legs sprawled out in front of him, and head leaned back. He had removed his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt. Owen was draped across his chest, his tiny head resting in the crook of Spike’s neck. The two of them were fast asleep. Buffy smiled at the image and then looked up at Wes, placing a finger over her lips. Wes nodded and then whispered. “I’ll tuck the little one in, you’re going to have to deal with the big one.”
Wes tiptoed over to the chair. He carefully lifted his son off of Spike’s chest and cradled him in his own arms. Buffy followed him as he walked back out to the living room and watched as he placed the infant back in his car seat. “Here’s all his stuff,” said Buffy, handing him the diaper bag.
“Thanks,” said Wes accepting the bag and moving towards the door. “We really appreciated this.”
“It was fun,” said Buffy, honestly before closing the door and turning out the remaining lights. As she walked by Spike’s room she paused. She quietly entered and made her way over to the chair. The only light on in the room was the one on his nightstand. She debated whether to wake him or to just turn off the light and let him sleep.
His legs were sprawled out in front of him and parallel to the nightstand. She got as close as she could, and then leaned over, stretched across, and flipped off the switch. As she stood back up and turned to walk out his hand encircled her wrist. She immediately looked towards him, but couldn’t see his face in the dark. He shifted in his chair a bit and moved his legs, pulling her closer, so that she stood between them. Wordlessly, he began to move his thumb in tiny circles across the back of her hand. She closed her eyes, giving into the sensation. She stepped even closer to him and when she did, she felt him bury his head in her stomach, nuzzling, inhaling her scent as he moved his hands to rest on either side of her hips.
A full minute passed, maybe two, before he slid his hand down and across her backside. He lifted his head slightly and as he snaked his hands under her nightgown so that he could caress the globes of her bare ass he took the sash of her thin robe between his teeth and slowly pulled. He guided her towards him and taking his lead she climbed up onto the chair and straddled his lap. She let his hands glide over her body, taking in every curve, memorizing every line. After carefully tracing the edge of her collarbone he slipped her silk robe from her shoulders, allowing it to puddle on the floor next to his feet.
He leaned back a bit and extended his hand, searching for the pull cord to the blinds. Upon finding his target he yanked. Suddenly the room was painted in bands of light and dark. The pattern fell across Buffy, illuminating her. Her eyes had closed when he arched back, grinding his erection into the juncture between her legs. But they were open now and they searched out his. She opened her mouth to say something, but he quickly silenced her by placing his fingertips over her lips. His heart was racing but his movements were slow and deliberate. He reached up and slid down one thin strap of her nightgown, exposing a dusky nipple. He sighed in appreciation and she felt the warm air from his exhalation on her breast. He then slid her other strap off of her shoulder and eased her nightgown down until it was gathered at her waist.
“Is this…okay?” he whispered. “I want to touch you. I want to make love to you.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” answered Buffy, just as quietly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” responded Spike, his hand hovering over her left breast.
“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep,” cautioned Buffy.
“This will change things between us. If we do this, there is no going back for me,” revealed Spike.
“But what happens when I get to the point where I can’t take this any further. When it’s no longer enough for you. When I’m no longer enough for you,” asked Buffy.
Spike swallowed as he reached down and slid her arms back into the straps of her nightgown. As he raised it up the length of her arms and settled the straps back on her shoulders he could see the hurt and confusion on her face. He stood up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He encircled her waist with one hand and pulled the covers to his bed back with the other before laying her down on the soft feather-top mattress.
Buffy watched as he let his shirt slide to the floor and then unzipped and stepped out of his jeans. He crawled in alongside of her, wearing only his boxers and pulled her towards him, wrapping one arm around her small waist and rubbing up and down the length of her back with the other. Her head rested on his chest and he could feel her breath as she softly inhaled and exhaled. “What happens is we change, we grow, there is no limit. It’s not like we’re some bloody cookies, cut out to shape and baked in the oven until we’re done. We’re people. We evolve. We’re never done, unless we want to be. What happens when you get to the point where you can’t take it further? If you want to, if it’s worth it, you work to get past the barrier.”
“What if I can’t?” asked Buffy, quietly.
“Did you not read the soddin book I gave you? It wasn’t long for heaven’s sake,” said Spike with a smile.
“It’s not that simple,” said Buffy.
“No. It’s not,” he agreed rolling Buffy over, onto her back. Spike turned onto his side. He leaned up on one elbow, propped his head up with his hand, and said, “Look, I’m thirty years old. I’ve had my share of failed relationships and broken hearts. I want something real. I want something lasting. There is something about you that has reached out and grabbed my heart. I know this is fast, but there’s this connection between us, I can’t explain it. This past week, you're all I bloody thought about. Dreamt about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you, Buffy, I'm drowning in you. And, God help me, I don’t want to be rescued.”
Chapter 17
As she began to slowly waken Buffy could sense that something was different. Or, maybe it was that everything was different. She could feel his warm body, wrapped protectively around hers. His arm was draped over her waist; his knees bent to follow the curve of hers, his hand innocently cupped her breast. They just…fit. Buffy inhaled deeply and her eyes fluttered open.
Dawn gasped and Buffy’s attention was immediately drawn to her. She was standing there, at the side of Spike’s bed, her bear in hand. She was staring down at the two of them, tear-stained tracks covering her delicate face.
Buffy shifted slightly, lifting her head off the pillow, “Dawn? What’s wrong?”
A sob escaped Dawns lips and she lifted her hand to muffle it. Spike opened his eyes, leaned up to peer over Buffy and said, “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know,” said Buffy holding her hand out to Dawn. “I woke up and she was here, crying. What’s wrong sweetheart. Why didn’t you wake me?”
Dawn reached out towards her sister with a trembling hand. As her fingertips touched Buffy’s she spread out her slender finders and interlaced them with her sisters. Staring at their joined hands Dawn murmured, “You were so still. You weren’t moving. I was-I was afraid…that you’d be cold.”
Buffy pulled Dawn closer to the bed and pulled back the edge of the covers. “I’m fine. Spike and I are snug as bugs Dawn. You’re the one freezing. Climb in.”
Wordlessly Dawn climbed under the covers.
“Dawn,” said Spike, “Did you mean you were afraid we were dead?”
“Oh God!” exclaimed Buffy. “Is that what you thought?”
Dawn buried her head in Buffy’s breast and began to sob, heartfelt gut-wrenching sobs. As she cried out her fear and grief both Buffy and Spike, moved to tears, cried along with her.
“Dawn, please don’t cry,” began Buffy.
Spike interjected, “No. Luv, she needs to cry. She needs to cry out her pain. She needs to grieve, and so do you. This is your loss too.” Spike wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to look at the clock. “Bugger!”
“What?” asked Buffy.
“I’m going to be late. Someone distracted me from setting the alarm last night. I’ve got a football game this morning,” said Spike.
“Go,” suggested Buffy. “We’ll be good.”
“Are you sure?” asked Spike.
Dawn looked up, “You’re coming back?”
“Always,” said Spike as he smoothed Dawn’s hair and leaned over to kiss Buffy’s bare shoulder.
“I have to do some work with Willow today,” said Buffy. “Willow and Tara invited us over for dinner, just burgers and such. You available?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” said Spike as he climbed out of bed and slid on his jeans from the previous night. “Leave the address on my cell and the time. I’ll meet you there. Sorry,” he said as he ran over to his dresser and pulled out a sweatshirt, “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later?”
“I’ll see you later,” said Buffy as she watched him grab his workout bag from the closet and race out of the apartment.
Dawn and Buffy lay side by side in his bed for what seemed like an eternity. “It’s nice in here,” said Buffy finally.
Dawn nodded in agreement.
“Okay, why is it so hard for you to talk?” asked Buffy. “I mean, I get that being kind of invisible around Ted would have it’s advantages. But Spike and I aren’t Ted.”
“It’s my fault,” whispered Dawn.
“What’s your fault?” asked Buffy.
“Mom,” replied Dawn, “her dying was my fault.”
“Dawn, Mom was depressed, she was really troubled, even long before you. You shouldn’t blame yourself,” explained Buffy.
“But I wished it,” said Dawn, sobbing even more intensely than before. “I wished it!” she confessed.
“Wished what? Dawnie, what did you wish?” asked Buffy.
“She was yelling at me, because I told her that I needed new shoes. They…what I had didn’t fit anymore. They hurt. She yelled that she didn’t have the money as she poured herself another drink. ‘You have the money for that!’ I screamed back at her. Then I looked at her and said, ‘I hate my life. I hate you. I wish you were dead.’ And, she did it Buffy. I don’t deserve to talk. Bad things happen. I’m bad! What did I do? What did I do?” sobbed Dawn.
“You’re saying that Dad left because of me? What did I do?” asked twelve-year-old Buffy, tears staining her cheeks.
“Having you. Raising you. Seeing you everyday. I mean, do you have any idea what that's like? Gosh, you don't even see what's right in front of your face, do you? Well, big surprise there, all you ever think about is yourself. You're sullen and… rude and… you're not nearly as bright as I thought you were going to be…” complained Joyce.
“Why are you saying all these things?” asked Buffy, a tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Because they're true,” said Joyce as she poured herself another drink and looked out the window, “I sure thought you'd turn out differently.”
“Dawn,” said Buffy, lifting Dawn’s eyes to meet hers. “You are not responsible for mom killing herself. She’s tried at least a half a dozen times over the years. It wasn’t about the shoes. It wasn’t about you. It was always about her. She was sick, Dawn.”
“Sick?” asked Dawn.
“Yes,” said Buffy.
“Can I catch it, like a cold?” asked Dawn.
Buffy smiled and said, “No, not like a cold. But we have to be careful, Dawn. If we want things to be different we have to make them different.”
“How?” asked Dawn, looking up at her.
“Truthfully? I’m not sure. I don’t have all of the answers. I’m just…I’m not sure,” said Buffy honestly.
“Maybe we could get some help?” asked Dawn.
Buffy gave Dawn a squeeze and said, “Yes, Dawn, we’ll get some help.”
Chapter 18
“H’lo,” answered Spike.
“Hey, I was calling back to make sure you got my message earlier. How was the game?” asked Buffy, cheerfully.
“Game?” asked Spike.
“Are you okay? You sound funny,” said Buffy.
“Sorry. I’m-I’m completely pissed, luv. I’ve screwed up,” responded Spike.
“You don’t sound mad, you sound-” started Buffy.
“Drunk,” interjected Spike. “Pissed is drunk.”
“Oh,” said Buffy. After a long pause she asked, “Why are you drunk, Spike?”
“Long story,” he said. “I think I need to take a rain-check on dinner. Give my regrets to the birds. Maybe I should crash at Rupert’s.”
“Where are you?” asked Buffy.
“At a bar, downtown. Came here with some mates after the game for lunch. Then I stayed to work on catching up on mail. That’s when I found the letter,” responded Spike.
“Letter?” asked Buffy.
“The letter from Drusilla,” said Spike. “It was forwarded from my old address in LA. I should have known she’d track me down eventually. I just…I just wasn’t prepared.”
“She’s the one you told me about? Your former girlfriend?” asked Buffy.
“Yeah,” agreed Spike.
“Is that you, Spike?” asked Harmony as she hopped onto the barstool next to him. “Hey! It is you! How are you? Oh! Not so good, huh? I bet I can cheer you up. Bartender? We’ll have two more.”
“Spike!” said Buffy, firmly.
“Wha’?” asked Spike turning his attention back to the phone.
“Make yours a coffee and give me the address. I’m coming to get you,” said Buffy.
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” said Spike, embarrassed.
“I want to do it. I’ll have Tara and Willow watch Dawn for a bit. They can bring her home once your settled,” explained Buffy.
“Alright,” agreed Spike.
“But, Spike? Let’s not make a habit of this. I don’t want to be taking care of a drunk boyfriend,” said Buffy.
“Is that what I am?” asked Spike.
“Let’s just say that I’m considering your application,” said Buffy.
Thirty minutes later Buffy walked into the dimly lit room. She spotted him immediately, sitting at the bar. He was hunched over a cup of coffee and there was a pained expression on his face. A leggy blonde was flirting shamelessly with him.
“Really, you don’t have to sit with me. I’ve got a ride coming,” Buffy heard him say as she approached.
“I could give you a ride, Spike. No waiting,” offered Harmony as she wrapped her hand around his bicep and leaned towards him, brushing the side of her breast against his arm.
“Some things are worth waiting for,” said Buffy softly.
Spike turned around and stood up, a little unsteady on his feet, “And you would be one of them,” he said pointing at her and nodding his head.
Buffy wrapped her arm around his waist, “Ready to go home big fella?”
“Yeah,” said Spike sadly.
“You’re living with someone?” asked Harmony. “While you’re dating me?”
“We’re dating?” asked Spike as he swayed a bit. Then he looked at Buffy and said, “That’s not right. I’m not that drunk, Buffy”
“That’s it! I’m breaking up with you! You just go home with skinny, Betty there,” said Harmony tossing her long blonde hair dramatically over her shoulder and standing up. “And you can say good-bye to this,” she said, pointing at her butt, “because you're not gonna see it any more ever.” After giving the matter a moment of thought she added, “Unless you run into me somewhere and it's me walking away from you. But even then ... I'll probably just ... you know ... back away.”
Spike and Buffy watched, stunned, as Harmony backed, step by step, out of the room. As soon as she cleared the door, Spike was the first to break out in riotous laughter. Buffy couldn’t help herself, she instantly followed suit.
“Please remind me about that tomorrow,” asked Spike. “That was bloody hilarious.”
“Come on, Prince Charming, let’s go home,” said Buffy as she started to steer him towards the door.
Spike groaned as he climbed into Buffy’s car.
“What’s wrong?” asked Buffy, concerned as she climbed into the driver’s side and looked at him, holding his head in his hands.
“Oh... My head. I think I'm sobering up. It's horrible. Oh, God. I wish I was dead,” moaned Spike.
Buffy held out a bottle of water and then fished through her purse for aspirin. She handed him the container and started the car. Spike opened the water bottle and drank down a few swallows with a couple aspirin. Then he dropped the aspirin bottle back inside Buffy’s purse, leaned his head against the cool car window, and closed his eyes.
They drove in silence back to their apartment. Buffy unlocked the entrance door to the building and called for the elevator. Spike followed her down the hall and into the apartment. He walked immediately back to the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and hopped into the shower.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he heard her ask from the other side of the curtain.
Spike leaned back against the cool tile of the shower wall. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Are you moving out? Are you going back to her?” asked Buffy.
“No and no,” answered Spike. “The letter just…It just made me incredibly sad and…and angry,” confessed Spike. “She’s been sober for a few months. She said she was working on step-work, working on making amends.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Buffy.
“That’s malarkey,” responded Spike. “There’s no way she’s gotten that far in a recovery program in that amount of time. Drusilla was just saying what she thought I wanted to hear. Trying to draw me back in. I’m just…tired. I thought I had put her and all those old feeling to bed. I just can’t believe in it any more. I can’t believe in her. I don’t. And, the truth is that there is a part of me that misses that… that feeling.”
“What feeling?” asked Buffy.
“Feeling loved,” answered Spike, truthfully. “I miss feeling loved.”
Buffy could tell from the change in the sound that he had stepped back into the stream of water. Her heart ached for him. She wondered for a moment if she, ever in her life, had experienced the feeling of being loved, truly loved. She searched her memory for a time. She couldn’t come up with one, not one. Had she ever even gotten close? She had, she realized, with him. He had given her so much over the past couple weeks, so much of himself. And now he needed something in return.
Spike heard it as she peeled back the curtain. He sensed her presence and then he felt her, her body pressed up against the back of his in the shower. She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt loved Spike. Truly loved. But, last night,” she murmured against his back, “all you did was hold me, watch me sleep and… and it was the best night of my life.”
Chapter 19
“Last night,” she murmured against his back, “all you did was hold me, watch me sleep… and it was the best night of my life.”
Buffy placed a soft kiss between his shoulder blades and then stepped back and reached for the shower gel. She squeezed some of the gel into her hands and rubbed them together to create lather. The spicy aroma began to fill the room and Buffy inhaled deeply. She slipped her hands back around his waist and began to explore the hard plains of his abdomen and chest. Buffy teased his nipples as she kissed a trail between his shoulder blades. She stepped in closer, so that her breasts were flush against him. As soon as he felt her nipples graze his back he moaned. Buffy playfully reached up and gently bit down on his right shoulder.
Spike leaned his head back. “You should leave,” he said, his voice rough with passion, as Buffy’s hands moved to wrap themselves around his erection. “Before it’s too late. You should leave.”
“It’s already too late,” she said as she enticingly slid her body against his, lifting her knee slightly and gliding it up and down the inside of his leg.
In the blink of an eye Buffy found herself wrapped possessively in Spike’s arms. He held her body flush against his as he kissed her deeply, passionately. His lips moved down her neck then his teeth grazed back up the same path. “God, how I want you. It seems I’ve wanted you forever. I need you, Buffy. I need you now,” growled Spike his voice filled with desire.
“I need you, too,” admitted Buffy, softly, “I want you, so much. Please, Spike, I want you inside of me.”
Buffy pulled back a bit and looked up at Spike. Her hair, like his, was now wet. Her lips were red and full from the pressure of his spirited kiss. Her body glistened, covered in beads of water, from the hot spray of the shower. Spike took a moment to run his hands over her flushed face, then down her neck and over her shoulders.
“Turn around,” he instructed as he gently guided her so that she was facing away from him.
Spike lathered some shower gel into his own hands and then gently began to stroke down the length of her back, over her ripe bottom, and across the tops of her thighs. “Christ,” he said as he slipped his finger between her legs, seeking out her heat, “you’re so beautiful.”
Buffy leaned forward a bit, her hands supporting her against the tile wall at the back of the shower. She turned to look at him over her shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. Spike’s eyes locked with hers as he reached down and slowly lifted one of her legs onto the edge of the bathtub, opening her up. He slid one hand up her torso and began to massage her breast. Spike felt her nipple pebble almost instantly and he rolled it, deliberately, between his thumb and forefinger. With his other hand, he began to stroke along the slick path between her legs. He could tell, by the way she was pushing back against him that she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her and it made him impossibly harder.
“Are you sure?” he asked as he continued to rain kisses down her neck, and across her shoulder.
“I’m sure,” she responded, reaching back with one arm to pull him towards her. “I need you inside of me.”
Spike was already poised at her entrance. All he needed, all he had been waiting for, was to hear the certainty in her voice.
Buffy gasped as she felt him fill her, in one deep thrust. The force of it pushed her forward and she quickly had to replace her second hand on the wall. Spike’s arm was wrapped around her waist as he held onto her tightly. He pulled out almost completely before thrusting in a second time, this time angling up and penetrating her even deeper. “God, you feel so good,” he said, stilling his thrusts for a few moments so that she could adjust. “All right, luv?” he asked his voice tense from his efforts to restrain himself.
In contrast to the deep measured thrusts, there was a soft trail of kisses raining down on her neck and across her shoulder, “Oh, you’re so deep baby,” moaned Buffy, almost whimpering, “I, I-”
She felt Spike start to pull out as he said, “Don’t want to hurt you, luv.”
“Don’t, don’t leave me!” Buffy cried out as she pushed back against him, driving him back into her depths.
“Never. Not going to leave you, Buffy,” moaned Spike as he began to slowly slide in and out of her. He could feel Buffy’s body begin to tremble as her excitement built. He reached around just then, and pinched her clit. Buffy reflexively threw her head back. He could see the ecstasy in her beautifully flushed face. As her walls began to flutter around him, he could hold on no longer. He thrust into her one last time, “Oh, God, I’m gonna…I’m gonna,” Spike pulled out quickly. He wrapped his hand firmly around his cock while continuing to hold her around the waist with his other arm. He pumped his cock as few times and then watched, panting and wide-eyed as long ropes of come spurted out over his hand and across Buffy’s backside. He reached out with one hand and began to rub his spendings over her.
As he brushed his thumb across her lower back he felt her tense. He looked down, “What’s…”
“It’s nothing,” said Buffy, a little too quickly as she began to turn to face him.
“Here,” he said, as he switched placed with her and moved her into the spray. “Let me clean you up. Sorry.”
Buffy stomach clenched, “You’re sorry?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “Not really. It’s…It’s just not how I envisioned it.”
“How did you envision it?” she asked as he soaped up her body.
“Not this wet,” he responded. Buffy laughed. “Candlelight, music, searching out your eyes, watching the expression on your face as you climax for the forth or fifth time, with me coming deep inside of you, of course,” he finished sliding one soapy hand between her folds.
“Why didn’t you?” she asked as she stepped back and leaned against the tile wall.
“Why didn’t I what?” responded Spike as he started to quickly soap up and rinse.
“Come inside of me,” she responded, her eyes self-consciously lowering to the ground.
“No condom?” suggested Spike.
“Right!” said Buffy matter-of-factly. “Of course.”
Spike turned around and looked at her. He took a step closer and tilted her chin up until her eyes met his then he raised his eyebrow in question. “It’s just… it’s been awhile. I thought… maybe I wasn’t-”
“You felt wonderful,” murmured Spike as he leaned down and began to trail a line of kisses across her jaw and down the side of her neck. “You feel wonderful.”
“I liked the way you felt, too,” said Buffy, beginning to pant as she felt his hand slip down between her legs. Spike slipped two fingers inside of her and began to slowly pump them in and out. Sliding inside her velvety channel, touching her, fingering her clit with his thumb. Sliding his tongue inside her mouth. Timing his tongue thrusts to match that of his fingers. Touching her. Buffy chocked down a sob and tried to hold her breath. Never had she felt… “Oh… Oh, Spike! Oh, my God! I feel-” gasped Buffy as she was swept away both physically and emotionally like never before. She held onto him as her knees weakened. At his touch her body, wracked with tremors so intensely exquisite that they made her think of heaven, came for the first time…to life.
“Shit!” yelped Spike as he stood up stiffly, still holding onto her. “Steady? You alright?”
“Yeah!” said Buffy breathlessly.
“Gonna let go now,” said Spike. As soon as Buffy nodded he pulled back quickly, spun around, and began to fumble with the shower taps. “Looks like we used up all of the hot water! It’s as cold as ice.”
“You’ve been standing there with cold water coming down on your back?” asked Buffy.
Spike pulled back the shower curtain, stepped out, and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. “Well, there was this…distraction.”
Buffy was standing there, still panting, her cheeks and chest red, her breasts rising and falling in time with her breaths. She leaned back against the shower wall. “Is that what I am?”
“Liked that, did you?” asked Spike wiggling his eyebrows and curling his tongue up behind his teeth.
“Uh-huh,” said Buffy as she nodded. Then, covering her mouth with her hand she broke into giggles.
Spike grabbed a second towel and holding it out for Buffy bowed slightly, “Milady.”
“Why thank you, kind sir,” said Buffy as she stepped out of the bathtub and into the warm, fluffy towel.
“My pleasure,” he said huskily as he tucked in the end of the towel.
“How are you feeling?” asked Buffy as she walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.
“Better. Of course, that could just be the surge from the endorphins,” said Spike with a smirk. “I may require regular doses of Buffy between now and morning to stave off the hangover of the century.”
“Drink up,” said Buffy handing him a bottle of water. “You also need water, food, and rest.”
Buffy picked up the phone and began to dial.
“Buffy?” he asked placing his hand on hers.
“Yeah?” she replied pausing and looking up at him.
“I can guarantee you that there are going to be moments when you regret this,” said Spike. “I’m not perfect, you know. Well, guess you saw that today.”
“And you’re annoying sometimes,” added Buffy, nodding.
“That, too. And I can be arrogant, and…and snarky, and you already know about the dishes thing,” said Spike.
“Let’s not forget the weird issue you have with mimes,” interjected Buffy.
Spike smiled. “But, you’re willing to give this a go?”
“Yes, Spike,” said Buffy as she reached up and kissed him softly on the mouth. “And, we need to have the testing and birth control conversation.”
“Whatever you want…You’re exquisite,” he whispered, huskily, as he nuzzled at the crook of her neck and reached up to unwrap her towel.
“Hey, mister,” said Buffy stepping back. “Dawn. Food. Then after she’s tucked in bed and fast asleep you can have Buffy.”
“But, want Buffy now,” pouted Spike.
Buffy gave him a disapproving look.
“Alright! I’ll go get dressed and be a good boy,” said Spike before turning and walking back to his room. Upon reaching the door he turned around, winked at her, and added, “But that’s just for now. Later, I intend to be verrrry, verrrry naughty.”
to be continued...