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Breaking the Habit

Chapter Four

The Point of No Return


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Three days passed quickly, almost too quickly. No, not almost, it HAD gone too fast. Spike’s anticipation and Buffy’s anxiety had reached a point where they could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other. After their kiss the other night they had refrained from physical contact, he didn’t want to upset her and she didn’t want to give him any ideas.

On the evening of the fourth day Spike came upstairs ( which was becoming a ritual) for some orange juice. Usually Buffy would be reading or drawing at the table, but today, she was nowhere to be found. Surprised he looked in the living room and the bathroom, both unoccupied, then her room, which also didn’t consist of her. It wasn’t like her to go out without leaving a note, so worried for her he picked up the phone and (feeling very awkward) called the Magic Box.

To his great relief, Willow answered, one of the few people that didn’t totally hate him. “Uh, Willow, is Buffy around?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah actually. She um... Well I really can’t tell you what she’s doing for her reasons but yeah, she’s ok.” Willow finally finished.

“Oh ok... She uh, she’s ok?”

Willow laughed softly. “Yes Spike, don’t worry, she’s in good hands.”

“Ok... Then uh, Bye.” He hung up the phone after losing his words and leaned against the wall with a long, agonized moan. He could almost smell her in the air of this her home, and he hated the thought of having to leave it all behind and go back to that cold, lonely crypt.

With a sigh and a shrug he went downstairs to his newly furnished room, grabbed an acoustic guitar he had actually bargained off of another vampire, some paper from the kitchen counter, and a pencil. He trudged out to the front porch and sat on the top step, set the paper and pencil next to him and took the guitar into his hands, began to find a rhythm.

Unconsciously at first he began to play the song he had sang to Buffy just under a month ago, but the words were different. Instead of desperate and harsh they were desperate and sweet, caring, which before would have disgusted him but as he began to sing them and jot them down, he smiled softly. She was everywhere here, and he almost felt he was singing to her.

“I died, so many years ago. But you can make me feel, like it isn’t so. If you’re gonna be with me, I think I finally know. Mmmhmmm. You’re there, you know just what you feel, you know that now I have your love, but it’s so hard to deal. A whisper in a dead man’s ear, but he just feels so real. That’s great, but I don’t wanna play, ‘cause being here touches me more than I will say. And if I’m so alive to you, I’m sayin’ let me stay. So we can be in peace. We can be in peace, we can speak our needs, we can take our love and bury it, let it grow a family tree. We can lay our bodies down and finally find our sweet release. We can be in peace.” Finishing his writing he sighed and sat back against a post, surprised to see Buffy watching him from the sidewalk. He set the guitar aside but said nothing, inhaled her with his eyes even though his sense of smell picked up her light perfume and deodorant. She inhaled deeply and casually walked closer. “I didn’t know you could play.”

Surprised she had spoken, he opened his own mouth to speak but had a hard time finding words. “Oh, I uh... I think I learned some time in the sixties. Yeah, sounds about right.”

She nodded and walked up the steps, sat next to him, arms crossed, eyes lowered. “I uh... I...”

“You don’t have to say anything Buffy, you’ve got three more days.” He murmured lightly, avoiding her surprised gaze. He picked up the guitar and softly strummed it, lightly enough so she could speak over the sound.

“I... I don’t need the three days.”

He looked at her quickly, mid strum. The hum of the strings held and faded as he fought for something to say, then he met her eyes and saw her sad, stern expression, his own fell and he looked away again. “I see.”

She frowned all the more. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

Angered by her calm her threw the guitar into the grass and swung his arms up, said loudly. “Oh, all right then! Let’s have it!” ‘God, CONTROL yourself.’ He thought.

She cringed slightly in attempting to keep her own temper. “I went to the Magic Box, as you well know, and Willow, Tara and I looked through some books, well a lot of books.” She began. “And we found a way to bring you back.”

He frowned. “Bring me back? Bring me back to what?”

She inhaled deeply, still averting his gaze. “Back to life.”

Stunned he stared at her, unable to speak as she continued, finally looking at him, her eyes dancing with well repressed joy. “You’d have your old name only a more recent birth date. You’d have a job a place in society, memories of a past, but you’d still remember your old one and days as a vampire. Friends,” She paused, biting her lip. “Me.”

His widened eyes hit hers at this and he stumbled over his words. “B-buffy does thi- does this m-mean....”

“Look,” she whispered, her hand slowly covering his. “This won’t be easy, who knows who you’ll be other than blonde, British and gorgeous...”

He grinned. “I dunno, if I were you that would sound pretty damn good.”

She laughed softly and then grew slightly serious. “But I swear Spike, if you screw up...”

He silenced her with a gentle, but purposeful kiss. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Oh, God Buffy do you?....”

She smiled softly, warmly and knowingly. “Yeah, I do.”

Pressing his cheek to hers and rubbing in a feline fashion he whispered. “Say it.” Nuzzling their noses.

“I love you.” She gently kissed his lips. “I love you Spike.”

“Buffy,” he mumbled, kissing along her jaw.

“H-huh?” She managed.

“Call me by my real name from now on.” Now he spread his hot, tantalizing kisses down her throat.

“Oh-oh God.” She groaned.

He returned to her lips and then pulled her close, resting his cheek in her hair, as he was so fond of. She sighed and asked. “What now?”

He grinned and stood, lifted her into his arms and went inside, as he reached the stairs she raised an eyebrow and slapped his shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t care, as long as I don’t have to sleep alone again.”


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“So what the bloody hell do I have to DO?”

Giles sighed, setting up some candles as Spike’s restless groan echoed throughout the room. “Be quiet, stay still and trust us.”

Spike snorted. “Bollocks! The things we must do for love!”

Buffy slapped the back of his head as she walked by him, moving to stand by Giles. “Hey!”

“Sorry love, only a little restless.”

She grinned and mumbled to herself (though he DID hear her). “You don’t have to tell ME that.”

She sighed as Spike grinned over at her. “So how long will this take?”

“Moments,” Tara answered. “So don’t worry, you can go home and rest right after and that’ll be soon.”

Spike bit his lip. “ If it doesn’t work? I don’t turn into a pile of dust do I?”

“Now when have we ever been that lucky?” Giles answered, finding the page in his book.

“Be nice.” Buffy warned.

“All right then, let’s give me a pulse.”

The group joined hands and began to chant the Romanian words. There was a ‘whoosh’, some bright light and then blackness. “Should that have happened?” Buffy’s tentative voice whispered.

A thump in Spike’s body caught his attention and he grinned, pressing a hand to his heart and laughing out as slow, steady beating repeated beneath his hand. “I think so.”

“Why’s that?” Giles asked him calmly.

“Oh, only because it worked.”

A flame flickered as Giles lit a candle and once able to see, Buffy ran to Spike and immediately pressed her ear to his chest, listened and grinned, turning to her friends alight. “It did!”

He sighed with relief and wrapped her in his arms. Breath! He breathed! With a smile he pressed a kiss to her left temple and sighed again. Heat, it consumed him now, blood pumped through him and a low ache in his gut made him smile, true bodily hunger, and not for blood!

She held him tighter, tears running down her face as she felt safe, relieved with him. It had all worked out! And she felt guilty for ever having doubted him. “I love you.” She whispered, shaking. He stroked her back and nuzzled his cheek in her hair.

“God, Buffy, I love you!” He murmured, surprised to see Giles watching with a light smile. “God how I love you.”

Willow sighed and motioned to Tara. “Well, I’m heading home. Later.”

“Yeah uh, so am I. Bye.” Tara rushed out after her, leaving Giles, Spike and Buffy.

Giles watched the two a moment more, a soft smile over his features, then he quickly asked. “Buffy, why don’t you go wait for him outside? I’d like a word.”

She gazed at him worriedly but at his soft, encouraging expression she sighed and nodded. “All right, behave or I’ll kick both your asses.” She slipped out the door and after she did Spike sighed.

“Look,”

“I’ll tell you once Spike so I suggest you listen closely. I gave this new life to you and I would be happy to take it back if you hurt her. Buffy’s like a daughter to me and her happiness is mine.” He paused and removed his glasses, closing his eyes and rubbing his eyelids. “She loves you, I know because she was asleep in death’s coma and now.” He shook his head. “She’s awoken to your song. I pray she may never fall into it again.”

Spike shook his head. “I wont, I love her, so much.”

Giles sighed deeply and clapped his shoulder. “We both better hope so.” He motioned to the door. “She’s waiting for you.”

Spike smiled softly, pressing a hand to his heart and shaking his head. “Who would’ve known.” Spike went outside and swept her up, laughing giddily. Giles watched them walk away hand in hand through the window and he wiped a tear from his eye.

“What do you know? My baby’s all grown up.” he chuckled to himself and set about locking up, he found some brandy in a drawer and opened it, sniffed it then held it to the skies. “This one’s for you, Joyce.”


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One final chapter, let's see how that comes





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