YOU NEVER CAN TELL
Chapter 18: ‘Night Time (Is the Right Time)’
Spike woke up, the next morning with a slight hangover. Make that a terrible, harsh hangover, but he carried on and stumbled into the bath, to ‘wake’ up properly. If he ever, ever, did anything right in his entire life? It would have to be done this morning.
For Buffy. To give his Buffy what she deserved.
He choked down a dry piece of toast and three cups of coffee before he got up his nerve to confront. No, make that ‘face’ his wife and apologize for his God awful behavior of the day before.
After bathing, smoking at least five cigarettes and practicing his ‘ass’ kissing routine, Spike headed over to Jesse and Fred’s house. Jesse had called, around 8:00 AM to confirm that Buffy would be alone in the house and that she and Spike could ‘talk’ privately.
The roses, from the day before, were a little worse for wear, but Spike freshened them up and placed them, reverently, on the front seat of the DeSoto. He drove, quickly, if wisely, to his destination and arrived at around 9:00 AM.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Spike knocked on the Green’s front door, praying that Buffy would open it to him. She did, slightly.
“What?” Buffy hissed, her mouth was twisted in a sullen little pout. Spike love that pout, normally, just not this sullen version of it.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, before either one of them could say anything else. He held the roses out to his Buffy, in front of him, hoping she’d open the screen door and invite him inside.
“I love you,” Spike added, sincerely. Then he hung his head in shame. Horrified by his ugly, harsh words and behavior from yesterday.
Buffy stood there, at the screen door of their friends’ home and shuffled her little feet, nervously. She swallowed hard, trying not to cry again, something she’d done, on and off, for the last 24 hours.
“You hurt me,” Buffy whispered in a strained, desperate voice, “badly, Will,” she finished with a sniffle.
“I know,” Spike replied, his voice just as desperate and strained, “and I ‘am’ sorry, baby,” he finally looked her straight in the eye.
“Come in,” Buffy whispered, suddenly, opening the screen door and motioning her husband inside.
Spike stumbled into the Green’s house, flopping onto their practical, but rather posh couch. The Green house was pretty well furnished and Spike was reminded of how ‘poor’ money wise Buffy and him really were.
‘I can’t give my Buffy this,’ Spike thought sadly as he looked around at the living room furnishings. ‘I can’t do anything right,’ shook his head with self pity.
Buffy took the flowers from Spike’s trembling hands and just held onto them, tightly. She was a little surprised at the gesture, and wondered, briefly, where Will had gotten the roses and how he paid for them?
‘Now,’ she thought, momentarily angry at herself, ‘that’s just great. He brings you flowers and you’re wondering how he bought them? You are a piece of work, Buffy Summers Giles,’ she chided herself, yet again.
“They’re pretty,” Buffy murmered, sniffing the fragrance of the roses, gently.
“You’re beautiful,” Spike whispered, trying to catch Buffy’s emerald eyed gaze with his.
She looked up and smiled, softly, at her young husband, trying not to break out in tears, again. Tears would do no good, not now. They needed to talk things out, definitely, and both of them needed their wits about them to do so.
“Buffy,” Spike sighed deeply as he leaned forward and kept his eyes plastered to hers. “I’m so bloody scared,” he whispered, ashamed at his weakness. “I’m fucking terrified, sweetheart,” Spike reached out and took one of Buffy’s tiny hands in his.
“I’ve let you down. No,” Spike frowned and shook his head, “don’t deny it. I’ve let you and our baby down. I didn’t want to,” he continued in a shaky voice, “never intended to be such a fuck up and…”
“You are not a fuck up!” Buffy blurted out, then desperately threw herself into Spike’s arms. She was careful not to crush or drop the pretty roses he’d bought her.
“You’re anything but that,” she cried, literally, burying her face into his shoulder and hugging him tightly to her.
Spike held his Buffy close to him, squeezing her so tightly, that she had to squeak in protest.
“I need to breathe, Will,” she chuckled softly.
“I’m sorry,” Spike mumbled, letting loose of her, just a little, as not to let her wriggle out of his grasp.
“So am I,” Buffy murmered into his ear, her warm little breath caused it’s usual tingle, like she always did, to run down his spine.
“I mean it, baby,” Spike groaned, pulling her back to him, tigher then ever, “I am so sorry for everything. I love you, our baby, so much. Will you come home? Now? We can talk more, there.” He reared back and lifted her chin up with his finger to gaze into her beautiful eyes.
“Yes,” she replied, simply. “I will come home, now, Will.” As if she’d decided to do just that, the minute she had left him.
“I didn’t mean it, about you being unable to have a job, or being…”
“I know,” Buffy smiled, a hint of residue pain flitted across her face. “You were angry, tired and afraid, Will, I get that. I am too, sometimes.”
“But I ‘do’ love you too, and I think we’ve just weathered our first, major storm, William Giles,” she smiled, proudly. “After this? Nothing’s going to take us down,” she nodded, assuring them both at the same time.
“I agree,” Spike whispered, trying not to let the traitorous tears of relief fall from his eyes. “We’re stronger then anything the world can throw at us, Buffy, sweet,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.
Spike kissed his Buffy, tenderly, on her sweet lips and hugged her tightly to him.
“Now,” he began, quietly, “please go and pack your little suitcase. I have the day off and I want to take you to a decent breakfast, or lunch. Whatever you like,” he grinned at her, delighted when his love smiled back, affectionately.
“Never unpacked it,” Buffy giggled, a tiny teardrop slid down her warm little cheek.
“Never?” Spike asked, a little stunned.
“Never,” Buffy replied with a another giggle. “I figured you’d come and fetch me before I would have to unpack anything, really.”
Spike and Buffy ate at the finest ‘café’ in Houston. At least the finest café that was nearest their house, in Houston that is.
“I swear,” Buffy mumbled, slightly irritated, “if I get any bigger,” she spat. She was totally fed up with looking like the Goodyear Blimp, from LA, that is. That or an Orca whale!
They had just gotten home, after breakfast, and Spike had carried his wife over the threshhold, again, for good measure. After he’d deposited his very pregnant, but very beautiful wife on the couch? He went and got her suitcase to bring back into their house.
Once the suitcase had been set in the bedroom, quickly, Spike joined Buffy on the couch. He lay against the back of the couch, bringing Buffy with him, gently, and wrapping his arms about her body.
Neither of them spoke, for a moment or two, when Buffy finally broke the silence.
“Will?” she began, carefully, “about what you said, earlier? About being scared. I know you are, I am too, sometimes. This is all so grown up, and scary, for both of us. It’s pretty frightening, huh? But we love each other, right?”
“Absolutely,” Spike chuckled and kissed Buffy’s head, lovingly.
“Then we’ll be okay,” Buffy sighed, contently. “Don’t you think so?”
“I know so,” Spike replied, nuzzling his lips into Buffy soft hair, while he ran his hands up and down her arms. And, he meant every word of what he said.
“Tomorrow,” Spike began, his voice deep with determination, “I’m going to old man Green and telling him I’ll need more money, or more overtime. One or the other. We’ve got to get serious, baby,” he added, sternly, “and get the money we need. For the baby’s coming and the things she’ll need and…”
Buffy began to giggle, her body shaking against Spike’s in glee.
“And what’s so funny?” Spike asked, trying to sound stern, but failing, miserably.
“You said ‘she’ when you talked about the baby, Will,” Buffy continued giggling. “You’ve always referred to it as a ‘boy’ before. Now?”
“I want a girl,” Spike stated, a mulish look on his handsome face. “I want a little girl that looks just like you, Princess Buffy. With green eyes and a funny but cute little nose and…”
“I do not have a funny nose, William Giles,” Buffy pouted with a defensive tone.
“You do,” Spike nodded, trying not to chuckle at Buffy’s expression. “But note, I said ‘cute’ nose, too. And it is. It’s perfect, sweet,” he added tenderly, kissing the said nose on the tip.
“Okay,” Buffy sighed, contented again, “it is perfect,” she snuggled back into her guy.
“We need to go, this weekend,” Spike continued, “to pick out baby things. For our little girl,” he held his wife, tightly, afraid to let her go.
“A crib, a stroller, baby clothes,” Spike began to tick off the items they would soon need for their little addition to the family.
Buffy felt her eyes grow heavy, from lack of sleep, she supposed. Soon, as her William droned on, about after the baby was born? She found herself sound asleep, dreaming of the golden haired little girl that would be with them, soon.
Spike woke up first, finding himself stretched out, on the couch, with his Buffy laying on top of him. Buffy was still sleeping, soundly.
‘Must have fallen asleep, earlier,’ Spike reasoned. He had not slept, or at least he had barely slept the night before.
“Baby,” Spike murmered into Buffy’s warm little ear, rousing her, quickly.
“Huh?” she mumbled, a little irritated at being woken. “Where…”
“We fell asleep,” Spike smiled at his girl, lovingly. “And now,” he continued, all manly like, “you need some food, sweet.”
Lifting himself up, and Buffy in the process, Spike sat up and stretched his arms. He smiled to see his precious wife do the same.
“I’ll fix us some supper,” Buffy yawned, starting to get up from the couch.
“No,” Spike shook his head, stubbornly, “I’ll fix us some sandwhiches,” he offered. “You stay put, Princess,” he ordered with a firm tone. “My turn to take care of you,” he called back as he entered their tiny kitchen.
Later, after they had eaten their beggar’s feast, Spike and Buffy reclined on the couch, once more. Spike stroked Buffy’s long blond hair, as he held her, her back against his body.
“Mmmm,” Buffy cooed, while her William ran his hands all over her shoulders, chest and tummy.
“Wanna’ dance?” Spike whispered into Buffy’s ear, noticing she shivered in delight when he did that.
“Uh huh,” Buffy replied softly.
Spike got up and shuffled through their large record collection until he found the song he wanted.
“May I?” Spike asked, all courtly like as he held his hand out to his beloved wife.
“I’d love to,” Buffy replied with a blush.
And, oh, how they danced…
‘Night Time (Is The Right Time)’ by Ray Charles
‘Because the night time
(night and day)
Oh, is the right time
(night and day)
To be with the one you love
(night and day)
Oh…yeah…
(night and day)
I said, baby,
Oh, come on, my baby
(night and day)
You know that I want you, by my side
(night and day)
I want you to keep
(and me you!)
satisfied!
(night and day)
Cos’ I know the night time
(night and day)
Everyday is the right time
(night and day)
Yeah to be with the one
That you….oh I said that you…
Truly…love
Do I love you?
(night and day)
Oh yeah, no one above you!
(night and day)
Hold me tight
(day and night
night and day)
And make everything all right!
(night and day)
Because the night time
It’s the right time…
To be with the one you…
Love, LOVE!
(night and day)!’
A/N: I took some liberties with the wording of Ray Charles song…hope that’s okay!
Next chapter (I’m thinking at this time) Spike’s instincts will prove right and Buffy will start to have problems with her pregnancy. Someone will come forward, to help the young couple in their hour of need.
Thanks for reading and please review. Luv, Spuf
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for your lovely reviews and to everyone reading this story. I thought maybe a couple more chapters, but maybe more? I'm not sure. I have to follow my muse!
Thanks,
Luv, Spuf
Thanks,
Luv, Spuf