Thanks to spikeskat for beta'ing (sooo glad you're out of school for the summer sweetie!) and to Megan for keeping me going with this one.
Even on the darkest night when empty promise means empty hand
And soldiers coming home like shadows turning red
When the lights of hope are fading quickly then look to me
I’ll be your homing angel,I’ll be in your head.
Because you’re lonely in your nightmare let me in...
And there’s heat beneath your winter let me in...
*Lyrics from ' Lonely in your Nightmare' by Duran Duran*
Chapter 5
After Buffy's revelation, they settled into a comfortable silence. Comfortable not being something that she would have ever associated with this hard edged, ruthless vampire. Yet, with Spike's arms wrapped around her, she almost felt... safe.
It was something she hadn't felt since Sunnydale.
Held tight in his possessive embrace, the unfamiliar feeling of security invading her being, she had almost been lulled to sleep when she felt Spike's hand shift from her hip to her belly, as if affirming that the life growing inside her womb was his. Theirs. And she found herself instinctively leaning into his touch, rather than flinching away.
Spike was listening to the steady thump of the slayer's heart beating, trying to discern the subtle difference between hers and the baby's. The dual patterns almost hypnotizing in their synchronicity – before the vampire was caught off guard when he felt the slight kick beneath his hand from the child within the Slayer's womb.
Bloody hell!
"It's really alive in there," he murmured in wonder.
"Or really undead," Buffy replied sleepily, without thinking.
Spike's hand stopped the slow, soothing circles against her bare skin. "Will that really matter?" he asked quietly, knowing instinctively it was too soon to ask that.
Always being avoidy girl, Buffy did just that, effectively changing the subject to something else just as unpleasant.
"Did you get away the same time I did? About six months ago? They didn't just let you go, did they?"
Spike snorted. "No, they didn't just bloody well let me go. I reckon I got out the same time you did."
"How did that come about anyway? What happened that we were just able to get away like that?"
He looked at her in surprise. "You don't know?"
"Would I be asking if I did?" she snapped before looking properly chagrined. "Sorry. No, I don't."
Ignoring her bitchy outburst, his fingers began rubbing her abdomen once more, reestablishing the soothing, gentle circles. "From what I was able to suss out, they made the mistake of capturin' a K'tilck demon. Nasty buggars. Its friends an' family weren't too happy about the incarceration and subsequent experimentation."
A small frown appeared. "So why was my cell unlocked then?"
"Near as I can figure, they cut the power to the holdin' cells in hopes of creatin' a diversion."
Buffy flinched. "I, uh, didn't realize there were that many holding cells."
"Can't say as I was really lookin' around. Nearly didn't get out, you know. Had to break a few necks to do so, which is bloody difficult when you're weak as a kitten, lemme assure you."
Buffy couldn't begrudge him the killing, knowing she would have easily joined in to gain her own freedom. The room grew silent as both Spike and Buffy fell victim to their thoughts.
Some minutes later, Buffy finally voiced what had chased away any hint of sleepiness, her gut churning as she thought of the future.
"Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?"
"What's going to happen now?"
Spike caught the fear that the Slayer tried to mask from bleeding into her voice and his gentle ministrations to her abdomen stilled once more.
"Well, that all depends," he finally answered.
"On...?" Buffy asked, her bottom lip jutting out in her confusion, and Spike was unprepared for the sudden wave of protectiveness that seared him.
"On you, pet." He caught her questioning look. "I don't abandon what belongs to me, Slayer. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me now. How much you fight me...well, as I said, that is gonna depend on you."
At the uncertain look in her eye, he sighed with frustration. "Look. I was with the same bloody woman for over a hundred years, yeah? And she didn't have all of her marbles most of the time. So you can be sure it wasn't always a walk in the bloody park. It didn't matter though. I took care of her, watched over her, never once thought about throwin' in the towel when the going got too rough."
"What happened to her?" Buffy had picked up on the tinge of anger and hurt he had tried to hide behind an impassive tone, but his eyes had betrayed him.
"Fickle bitch," he ground out. "We were in Sunnydale, you know, when I was tryin' to off you. After I escaped, I tracked her down for our soddin' Hallmark reunion and discovered she'd already shacked up with a Chaos demon." He couldn't keep the disgust off his face. "You ever see one o'those? They're all slime and antlers. She wouldn't leave him, said I'd been tainted."
Spike tried to swallow the bitter taste of betrayal that talking about that particular wound had opened. Shaking it off, he fixed her with a penetrating look. "Anyway, I've got you now. I don't figure on makin' a return trip to New Mexico anytime soon, so you've got someone else to help you look over your shoulder... whether you like it or not."
He couldn't tell what she was thinking and offered her a lopsided smile. "Think you can manage to trust me enough to keep us from gettin' scooped up again??"
Buffy blinked, absorbing what he had just asked her. Trust? He wanted her to trust him. Months ago, she would have thought that concept absurd. The Slayer trust a vampire? Well, a vampire besides Angel, at any rate. Yet, at this moment, she didn't have to dig too deep for her answer.
"Yeah, I think I can try."
A brief look of awe transformed his features, then was gone so quickly, Buffy thought she had imagined it. But as he smiled at her, the slayer realized it was the first time she had seen him do so without false pretenses. It struck her, yet again, how much humanity he seemed to have retained and a sense of relief began to grow and spread throughout her, gaining momentum as it hummed along.
She wasn't alone anymore.
And that night, as she lay sleeping in his arms, the nightmares stayed away.
*****
3 months later
It had been difficult, at the beginning, relinquishing her rigid control to Spike, her life having been so regimented up until the point that he'd crossed paths with her. But it didn't take long to realize that he was a vampire of his word. He took care of them and she gradually stopped questioning his every move and motive.
He was trustworthy. And the very fact that she could trust him, a vampire without a soul, with her life was something she found both unique and liberating.
In the months that had followed Spike's arrival into her life, a subtle shift had begun to occur. They became friends. He made her laugh. He left her alone when she needed the silence; yet instinctively knew when she needed his much welcomed company. The baby allowed them to drop their usual roles as Vampire/Slayer, and that found them surprisingly compatible; something Buffy never would have imagined.
Spike had relocated them to the safe haven of Costa Rica; a highly populated locale with an assortment of friendly demons, a country that she rapidly fell in love with.
Buffy had even trusted Spike enough to allow him to place a claiming bite on her, caving to his insistence that it was necessary for both their cover and for her protection. Once she'd consented, it had been done in the most chaste way possible, but it brought with it a profound realization.
They were making a family.
And for the first time, she began to look forward to the arrival of their child, something she had not dared to allow herself before.
Putting down roots, even temporary ones, was nerve-wracking, but Spike had assured her they would be safe. And Buffy had come to trust him explicitly. As time wore on, her guard lowered. Spike had used some of his demon connections to assure their anonymity, and here in this paradise, she wasn't the Slayer. She was the pregnant human mate of 'El Diablo', as was Spike's earned title. If anybody suspected anything about the demonic origins of the child she carried, not a word was said.
Or if it was said, the perpetrator didn't live long afterwards.
The fierce reputation that Spike had cultivated for himself over the last one hundred years went a long way towards keeping loose lips from wagging, and Buffy had long since learned to appreciate the fear he inspired in others.
Now in her last month of pregnancy, she could no longer defy the lethargic pull the baby put on her body; she was awkward and suffering through every late-stage pregnancy woe known to women. Spike soon learned the true meaning of 'Bitchy Buffy' and had wisely removed anything resembling a stake from the cozy home they shared.
Buffy had adapted to Spike's nocturnal ways- more or less; sleeping during the day so she could be with Spike during the cover of night. Seeking the comfort the other gave, they shared a bed, yet had not moved their relationship further.
It hadn't taken Buffy long to figure out Spike's reluctance in that regard, his body giving away his desire to do more than just hold her at night and keep the nightmares away.
He was afraid of her rejection.
It was her sense of a woman's vanity that kept her from acting on her need; Buffy didn't want her first time to be while she looked and felt as huge as a buffalo. Without practically any effort, Spike had managed to slide into her heart and wrap himself tightly around it, squeezing more each day. Buffy was afraid of doing anything that might jeopardize that fragile thread that had developed.
So she did nothing. For now.
tbc
So? Is it going in the right direction? *is paranoid*
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