It was well past midnight when Spike, in his beaten up De Soto, pulled into the long driveway. He reached into the backseat to grab his purchases before heading towards the darkened cabin. He walked slowly with trepidation, heavily laden with two duffels and several large paper grocery bags, his thoughts focused on a small blonde slip of a woman who in such a short time, or maybe she'd been there all along, had rooted herself very deeply into his heart. He wearily opened the door praying to a God he long ago lost connection with that Buffy would still be awake. Or even there for that matter...
"Kitten?" he called as he started to put the groceries in the pantry. "Pet, are you awake?"
When no one responded, he finished putting the rest of the groceries in their proper place before walking upstairs slowly, almost dreading what he'd find there, calling her name (and various other pet names) all the while.
He crept cautiously into her room, careful not to wake here, when he noticed she was not there. Oh God...Oh God... She had left. She didn't just leave, she left him. She had actually left him. He didn't know what to do.
'Okay, Spike,' he told himself as he walked out of her room, 'it'll be okay. You can handle this. You need to just go to your room and...'
There, in his room, in his bed, he saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life. Buffy, wearing only one of his black shirts, curled up above the covers, asleep. Waiting for him. In his bed.
"Oh, baby," he whispered softly before stripping off his duster and shirt. Reaching into an open drawer, he grabbed a pair of track pants, quickly slipping off his jeans and putting them on. He stared at her, running his hand gently over her face, trying to remember every last detail of this moment. She looked so...perfect. He knew this is what he wanted to come home to every night.
He cautiously slid in next to her; his arms now seemed useless and awkward because he didn't know what to do with them. Was he allowed to touch her? She was in his bed after all...
She immediately answered his question for, sensing his presence, she turned around and snuggled up into his chest. Seeing that as an open invitation, he wrapped his arms around her tightly as he kissed her temple. He didn't want to fall asleep. He inhaled her sweet Buffy smell intermingled with the shampoo they kept at the cabin, wanting to savor this moment. Nothing could have smelled better.
He wanted to just watch her. She was so beautiful, curled up next to him, a small smile on her angelic face. He fought off sleep for as long as he could, but she was just too warm, too comfortable. She fit next to him. She belonged next to him. He drifted into one of the best sleeps he'd had in a very long time.
Buffy woke up trapped-she couldn't move at all. Before she had a chance to panic, her barrier awoke, gently removing himself from her. Then she remembered last night.
After reading the letter, she cried her eyes out in the shower before coming into his room in search of clothes. When she found one of his beloved black T-shirts, she slipped it on enjoying his scent. She was surrounded by him. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much.
She started to feel uneasy about the whole situation. She loved him. She was pretty sure of that. He claimed to love her, but did he really? Would he "fall out of love" like her dad did with her mom? Would she?
Sitting on the bed, she realized she didn't want to leave, so she waited for him. She sat and thought, torturing herself endlessly of the possibility of life without him. However, loving him and losing him would hurt even worse. She contemplated their relationship, or non-relationship, until she was too exhausted to think anymore, falling into a fitful slumber.
He must have returned to find her asleep in his bed. Apparently he decided to join her. With him cuddled up next to her, she slept much better. Better than she had in a long time in fact.
"Spike?" she said softly, his name sounding like a question because she wasn't really sure of the situation enough to say anything else.
"Hey, pet. Did you sleep well?" He said just as softly, a shy smile graced his face. "I know I did."
He leaned over and kissed her temple, stroking her cheek.
"I...uh, I..." she stuttered before blurting, "Did you get me any clothes?"
He sighed softly and watched her pull away, his arms never felt so empty. "Yeah, kitten, I didn't know what to get, but Joyce gave me some stuff that she said you'd want. They're in a duffle bag in your room. I hope they're fine..."
She awkwardly stood up, stumbling slightly as she pulled his shirt down as far as possible, feeling utterly comfortable in front of him with her lack of clothing. "I'll just go...get them...and do the shower thing and then I'll, um, change into them." She cringed at the shaky uncertain tone of her voice before turning and rushing toward the door.
She knew if she stayed there any longer, she'd jump him. Without a shirt on, he looked even more gorgeous than usual. She kept stuttering and getting distracted because of those luscious abs.
"So that's it then?" His question stilled her hand on the door. She hazarded a glance back at him on the bed, where he had stretched out in a poor attempt at remaining casual, as he continued, "I spill my heart out to you, find you in my bloody bed, and all you have to say is that? Pet, we have to talk about all this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"You can't keep sending me mixed signals like this." He rubbed his face with an exasperated sigh.
"Mixed signals! Are you kidding me? You're the damn King of mixed fucking signals!" she shouted, turning back towards him.
He looked up guiltily, before replying, "Well, isn't it about time we worked it out?"
"Why? Because you finally want to?"
"Because this has gone on long enough," he said, trying desperately to stay calm. She could be so bloody stubborn.
"What do you want me to say?" She asked, her eyes narrowed in anger. "That I love you, too?" She scoffed.
"That would be nice," he smirked, trying to keep the insecurity out of his voice.
"I don't know how I feel or what to think, but god forbid, now that the great William "Spike" Giles knows what he wants everything in the world will crumble unless he gets it right this second!" Her voice dripped with sarcastic venom as she spat out each word.
"So you just laid in my bed to torture me? To punish me for all these months?" His voice rising every second.
"May be," she said, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the obvious lie.
"Believe me, pet, I'm kicking my own ass, knowing that we could have been doing that for a long time." He paused his features softening as well as his voice. "Last night was the best night of my life. To think I might have let you walk out of my life..."
"I'm still here," her own voice and features softening as well with that statement. "I just...I don't know about all this, William. What you did was-"
"I'm sorry. How many times do I have to say it? What does it bloody take?"
He sat up, his head now in his hands. Buffy was silent for a moment, crossing the room slowly, and, upon reaching the bed, she straddled his lap. He looked up at her sharply, shock overtaking his handsome face.
She never broke eye contact as she caressed his cheeks, her fingers tracing over the planes of his face gently. Her eyes moved rapidly, searching his own. Spike was tempted to break contact because of the sheer intensity in her eyes, but he didn't, wanting to see where this would lead. Where she would let it lead.
She leaned in and kissed his forehead softly, grazing over his pale skin. She moved down and kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, before finally reaching her target-his mouth. She barely brushed his lips with her own, once, twice, before running her tongue sweetly across his lip-requesting an invitation to his mouth, which he did not hesitate to give.
They gently explored each other's mouths, tongues, and lips, as their hands caressed the other's body, trying to commit each new sensation to memory. Both realized that this was more about connecting on a higher level and offering comfort than about the simple lust and attraction that had built up over the past few months.
His hands tangled into her hair before sliding down her back and reaching under his shirt to caress the smooth skin found there, promising himself he would never let her go again.
Her hands moved more slowly around his body before coming to rest at the nape of his neck, playing with his soft hair.
As the kiss grew in intensity, Spike stood up, grasping her thighs to hold her in place. Buffy, in turn, wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He pressed her into the door, trying to get as close to her as possible. Buffy pulled back for a breath, causing Spike to attack her neck, nipping and sucking the exposed skin there.
Buffy held his head to her neck as she panted for air. Feeling him harden against her thigh, she let go of his head.
Finally after what felt like forever and only a moment all at once, Buffy let her legs drop. Spike continued to nuzzled her neck, his hot breath hitting it in rapid secessions as he panted heavily, trying desperately to calm down. His eyes clenched in fear that she would reject him and run away again.
Buffy grabbed his chin, gently forcing him to look at her. For a brief moment, she toyed with the idea of letting this continue. God knows she wanted to. She hadn't been this hot in a long time. Hell, she'd never been this turned on. And he looked so...beautiful, but no. It was too much, too fast. She wanted to do this right.
Spike was having the same problem. Buffy looked thoroughly kissed, her hair mussed and her lips swollen. A small hickey forming on her neck, marking her as his. He took a step back, trying to gain control of his body. He had to force himself to maintain the eye contact he knew she wanted.
"Time, William. It takes time," she whispered, finally answering his question. She graced his lips with one last quick chaste kiss before she slipped out of the room.
A few moments later, Spike heard the shower turn on. He flopped down on the bed, a knowing smirk growing on his face. Now Spike wasn't a very patient man, but some things were worth it. A one Miss Buffy Summers definitely ranked very high on his worth it scale. For her, he had all the time in the world.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N I don't normally write like this or this particular "interaction," but I was trying something different. I hope you enjoy and I hope it tides you over for about 3 weeks because I don't know when I'll be able to update again. Please review! I'm very nervous about the ending of this chapter...I hope I did it well.