Part Seven.......
It was raining again. She could hear it
spattering on the window pane in hard
bursts, like handfuls of gravel. It sound-
ed cold and unfriendly, and Buffy was
glad she didn't have to go out in it.
She snuggled down deeper into her
pillow and was beginning to drift back
to sleep when a crack of thunder went
off like automatic weapons fire.
"Oh!" She shot straight up in bed,
clapping her hands over her ears to muffle
the noise, and was instantly sorry for it
when a jolt of pain sliced through her
head. "Oww!"
Clutching her head, she rocked back and
forth. "Somebody kill me," she moaned.
"Please..."
"Poor baby."
Buffy turned her head slowly, trying to
keep it from tumbling off her shoulders,
and stared wild eyed at the man lying
beside her.
"Oh...you...oh, gosh." Her voice sounded
squeaky and pathetic in her ears. "Oh, my god."
"I'll get you some aspirin," Spike said
soothingly, beginning to climb out of the
bed.
Buffy stared at his bare chest in dis-
belief. If his chest was bare...then surely
other parts of him were in the same con-
dition. "No! Don't...just don't...move."
He looked at her, concerned. "Do you feel
sick, sweetheart? You need to....?" He
gestured towards the bathroom.
"I...my head hurts," she whimpered.
"I know it does," he said sympathe-
tically. "Let me get you something for it."
"Spike...wait." Buffy laced her fingers
together nervously. "Did we...um...DID
we?"
He gave her that slow, sexy smile that
he was so terribly good at. "What do YOU
think?"
"Oh...oh, God." She stared at him, glassy-
eyed. "Oh, no..."
The smile immediately left his face. "Buffy,
you...God, you look horrified. You really
didn't want..." There was a slight catch in
his voice, and he cleared his throat to cover
it up. "I'm sorry."
He turned away from her, his eyes wandering
around the room, looking at everything but
her. A muffled sob drew his attention back
to her face.
She was biting her lower lip, her eyes shim-
mering with tears.
"Fabulous," he muttered. "I've actually made
you cry."
Buffy was visibly struggling to control her
emotions. "It's just that...I didn't want it to
be that way...between us."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that." Leaning
over the bed, Spike grabbed his shirt off the
floor.
"Please, don't be mad."
He shook his head. "I'm not mad." Two
diamond bright tears traced a slow path
down her cheeks, and he sighed heavily.
"Don't cry about it, Buffy. We didn't..."
"I can't help it," she cut him off. "I'm a
terrible person."
"No, you're not..."
"But I AM" she insisted. "I'm horrible. Just
look at what I've done." She flailed her arms
around the bed. "The first time we make
love...and I can't remember it!"
Giving up the fight, she burst into noisy tears
and covered her face with her hands.
Spike stared at her in shock. "Is THAT what
you're upset about? That you can't remember
it?"
"Of course I'm upset about it," she sobbed. "That
should be a beautiful memory...and I ruined it.
I-I got drunk..and I passed out and I just...just
ruined it!"
"Sweetheart, no," he reached for her. "Listen..."
Buffy turned over in bed and buried her tear
streaked face in the pillow. "I'm sorry," she
whimpered. "I'm sorry..."
Spike took hold of her and gathered her into
his lap. "Don't cry, Buffy," he begged. "I
can't stand it when you cry." He cupped her
chin and lifted her face. "Everything's all right,
I promise."
"No, it's not." She jerked her face out of his
hand and hid it against his shoulder.
"Stop crying, baby." Wrapping his arms tightly
around her, he rocked her a little on his lap,
hushing her like a tired child as he stroked
her hair. "Come on, now. You're gonna make
yourself sick."
When she finally settled down, he tilted her
face up. "That's my girl," he smiled at her,
brushing the tears from her cheeks.
Laying her head on his shoulder, Buffy sat
quietly in his lap, an occasional sniffle the
only testimony to her emotional upheaval.
When he felt that she was completely calm, he
said, "I'm sorry, baby...this whole thing was
my fault...yes it was," he added when she
shook her head in denial. "We didn't make
love last night. The only thing we did in this
bed was sleep."
Raising her head, she stared at him with a
confused expression. "Really?"
"Yes. Really," he confirmed. "I shouldn't
have teased you about it...and I'm sorry."
He pressed a gentle kiss against her fore-
head. "Will you forgive me?" he coaxed.
"Yes," she nodded. "But...aren't you.." She
gestured at his bare chest, with a blush
that completely charmed him.
"No, I'm not," he chuckled, lifting the quilt
to show her that he still had his pants on.
"I just took off my shirt...so I could feel you
next to my skin," he admitted.
"Oh..." Buffy sighed with relief. "Then I
didn't miss anything?"
"Nothing important, honey," he assured
her, maneuvering them both back down
on the bed, keeping her close.
They laid together, without speaking,
listening to the rain and thunder pound
the little house.
Spike watched as Buffy went back to
sleep. When he was sure he wouldn't
disturb her, he eased her out of his
arms and climbed carefully out of bed.
Grabbing his shirt and boots off the
floor, he finished dressing in the bath-
room, then searched the medicine cabinet
for a bottle of aspirin.
Downstairs in the kitchen, he made a phone
call, found some blank paper, and sat at
the table to write a brief note.
A few minutes later, when he heard Buffy
get out of bed and go into the bathroom,
he made her a cup of tea, then took it and
the aspirin upstairs and left it on her bed-
side table. The note, he placed on her
pillow.
Donning his coat, he stepped out into the
cold morning air, uncaring of the rain and
grateful for the lack of sunshine.
Looking back up at Buffy's bedroom
window, he smiled and threw her an unseen
kiss, them climbed into his car and drove
away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy yawned and rolled over in bed without
opening her eyes, searching for the solid com-
fort of Spike's body, but finding only a pillow.
Frowning, she lifted her head a little and looked
around the room. "Spike?"
Bracing herself for a nasty pain in her head,
she sat up slowly. Surprisingly, it had scaled
down from a screaming blast to a low grade
throbbing ache. Not a lot of fun, but bearable.
Crawling out of bed, she went into the bathroom,
massaging her temples.
The glare from the overhead light seemed
painfully brighter than it usually did, and the
reflection she saw in the mirror was truly
frightening.
Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin was
pasty, her eyes were gluey with sleep, and she
was fairly certain that her breath could stop a
charging rhino.
"Well, I hope you're satisfied," she said,
glaring at herself. "You're getting exactly what
you asked for."
After taking care of her most urgent need,
she ran the water in the sink until it warmed
up, then washed her face and brushed her teeth
twice. She couldn't bear the thought of applying
a brush to her hair, possibly making her head
ache even more than it already did, so she
settled for smoothing it as well as she could
with her hands.
When she returned to her room, she saw the
tea and aspirin waiting for her. Smiling, she
went back to the door and called Spike's name.
Buffy knew that if he'd been in the house he'd
have answered her, so she climbed back into
bed and propped herself against the headboard,
then reached for the tea. It was still warm, and
lightly sweetened, and she sipped it gratefully.
She picked up the note, and her lips curved into
a smile as she read it.
Good morning, Sunshine...
I know that you're probably
not feeling very well right now.
You rest and be good to
yourself today. Remember,
crackers or some dry toast if
your tummy's upset.
I called Willow and arranged for
Little Bit to stay another night.
Be my good girl, and I'll come
see you tonight...and we'll make
that beautiful memory together.
All my love....
Your (former) worst enemy
Buffy read the note twice, then folded it and
placed it in the drawer of her night stand.
"He loves me," she sighed, sliding down in
bed. "And tonight, he's gonna show me how
much."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The showery day passed quietly. She called
Dawn, and then Giles, informing him that she
thought she might be coming down with a
cold and didn't feel up to patroling that night.
A manufactured cough or two lent credence
to her story, and he didn't argue with her or
scold her for blowing off her responsibility.
Since there were no new disasters looming
on the horizon, Giles encouraged her to stay
in that night, reading her a veritable laundry
list of possible remedies that she might employ
in treating the virus.
Buffy listened patiently, rolling her eyes and
shifting from foot to foot. Giles could never
just say something like "starve a cold and feed
a fever". If there was a stuffier way of saying
a thing, her watcher would find it.
Before he hung up, he mentioned that tonight
he would locate Xander, and possibly Spike,
and the three of them would take a brief swing
through her route.
Buffy encouraged him to do just that, knowing
that he might be able to locate Xander, but
Spike would definitely be unavailable.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She spent most of the afternoon napping on
the sofa, wrapped snugly in her mother's hand
knitted afghan.
When she woke up, it was almost 5:00, and
she felt ten times better than she had that
morning.
It wasn't fully sundown yet, but the rain clouds still
darkened the sky and she knew he would be there
soon.
She threw off the blanket and ran upstairs,
feeling silly and excited, like a teenage girl
waiting for the captain of the football team to
show up at the door.
In the shower, she washed and conditioned
her hair again, then scrubbed her skin until
it was pink and glowing with health.
She finished by shaving her legs again,
wanting them to be smooth and touchable.
After drying off, she rifled through her closet,
searching for something to wear.
Spike was a bit of a sensualist, a tactile
creature, and he enjoyed the feel of silky
soft fabrics beneath his fingers.
Rejecting one outfit after another, she suddenly
remembered the pink silk pajamas she'd
been given on her nineteenth birthday.
She only hesitated a moment before she
took them out of her lingerie drawer. Pa-
jamas seemed a little forward, but she
pushed that thought firmly away.
This evening was going in one direction.
She knew it and so did Spike. Why not
be a little forward?
**Why not be a LOT forward while I'm
it?**
Pleased with her choice, she dried and
curled her hair, then applied light makeup.
A blush of pink on her cheeks, rose tinted
lipgloss on her mouth, and a soft taupe
shadow emphasizing the color of her eyes.
She finished with a few strokes of mascara.
Pleased with the results, she slipped on the
pajamas. Soft and flowing, they felt sinfully
good moving on her bare skin as she walked
downstairs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy fiddled with the knobs on the gas
fireplace until she had it blazing cheerily.
Ater dimming the lamplight, there was
nothing left to do but wait.
She sat cross-leged on the floor in
front of the fireplace, staring into the
flames.
Tonight was a turning point. Every-
thing would be different from here on
out.
Spike would be a part of her life in a
whole new way...and she was ready
for it.
She'd missed having a man in her life,
someone to hold her, maybe even take
care of HER once in a while, instead
of the other way around.
And Spike was the right man. He was
right for her in a way that no other
man had ever been.
With Angel, it had all SEEMED so right.
He had known her for who and what
she was. He'd been perfect for her.
So she'd thought...
When their relationship had taken its
natural course into physical intimacy,
her life and her love had turned into
a nightmare right before her eyes.
With his soul lost once again, Angel
had reverted back into the vicious and
violent animal he'd been for more than
two centuries.
Everything in him that had been
beautiful and good, had become evil
and ugly overnight.
By the time she'd condemned him to
hell, he had driven her nearly to the
point of insanity.
When he'd come back to her, his
soul had been restored, his memory
wiped clean of his attrocities...and she'd
known then that they were doomed.
The knowledge had been so painful that
she'd buried it deeply in her psyche, so
deeply that her conscious mind hadn't
been aware of it.
SHE had tried, and HE had tried, but
in the end there was nothing for them
to hold onto.
They couldn't be close without eventually
giving in to temptation.
And she could never...EVER ...let
that happen again.
Angel had been the first one to bring
their problems out into the open. He had
quietly made his plans, then turned his
back and walked away, smashing her
heart into a thousand and one pieces
on his way out.
The only thing that had gotten her
through the pain had been the mundane
chores of day to day living, her friends,
and her responsibility as the slayer.
High school was over, and college
was ahead of her. She'd pinned her
hopes on the future, and left her
childhood behind forever.
In college, she'd still been dumb
enough to think that all things were
possible, even for her.
She'd dated one or two guys, but
they'd aroused no more in her than a
mild interest, easily forgotten.
Then, the "Parker" incident had oc-
curred, one of her more spectacular
errors in judgement.
His good looks and charm, combined
with what turned out to be phony sen-
sitivity, had made her an easy target.
She had allowed him to seduce her in
an indecently short period of time, then
gotten exactly what she'd deserved the
next morning.
The memory of it was still enough to make
her squirm with embarassment.
When Riley Finn came into her life, she
had been at her lowest point relationship-
wise.
Although she'd felt an immediate attraction
to him, she'd learned the hard way not to
rush into anything.
Riley had been sweet and caring, and
she'd liked him before she'd loved him.
He was the closest thing she'd ever
had to a "regular" guy, and once again,
she had allowed herself to hope.
By the time she'd realized just how
"unregular" he was, it was too late to
turn back. She'd cared too much.
As it had been wih Angel, everything
had been good in the beginning.
They went to movies, parties, the
beach, and just had fun together.
Then, like clockwork, all the other
weirdness of her life began hacking
away at them.
His inolvement with the Initiative, Pro-
fessor Walsh's betrayal and the revelation
of what she'd done to him, the "Adam"
horror show...all guaranteed to blow them
right out of the water.
After it was over, and Riley's health
had been restored, things had never been
the same between them.
Her mother had gotten sick, Dawn
had come into their lives, and Buffy
had begun to push him away.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she had
withdrawn. She hadn't realized it was
happening, but Riley had, and he
simply couldn't deal with it.
The death blow had been struck on the
night she'd seen him sitting in a filthy,
broken down vampire's lair, being fed
on by the skankiest looking female vam-
pire that Buffy had ever seen,
Being fed on...encouraging it...getting off
on it. It had been a disgusting sight.
Her feet nailed to the floor, she'd stood
and stared in horror. Wanting to scream,
but unable to, she'd felt the bile rising
in her throat to choke her.
When Riley had come out of his stupor
and saw her standing there, he had
tried to get to her. But she had already
turned to run as fast and far as she
could, afraid that if he managed to
touch her...she would kill him.
In one last ditch effort to repair their
relationship, Riley had announced
that he'd been asked to rejoin his
unit in some jungle on the other side
of the planet, leaving Sunnydale..and
her...behind forever.
Unless SHE stopped him, of course.
It was up to her, he had told her, to
keep him from getting on that helicop-
ter and flying out of her life for good.
It had been a lightly veiled threat,
implying that if she didn't say right
then and there what he wanted to
hear...then he would go, allowing
her no opportunity to deal with it
once she'd calmed down from the
initial shock.
This ultimatum, and the not-so-
subtle pressure it had brought to
bear, had infuriated her and she
had refused to give in to it.
Xander had been the one to convince
her that she shouldn't let Riley just
walk away.
She'd ran after him, but when she'd
arrived, the helicopter had already
taken off.
Riley hadn't looked back once.
She had stared up at the sky long
after the lights of the aircraft had
faded away.
It was over, and she'd had to try and
pick up the pieces of her broken
heart...again.
Spike had been a fairly constant pre-
sence in her life, and a pain in her ass
of heroic proportions, throughout the
course of her botched up romances.
He'd first come to Sunnydale hauling
his half dead and totally insane vampire
girlfriend along with him, searching
for a way to restore her to her former
strength.
Oh, and he'd come to kill the slayer as
well.
Their mutual hatred of each other had set
the stage for some of the most difficult
fights either of them had ever been involved
with, and which neither of them ever won.
But as much as he'd hated her, his hate of
Angel ran far deeper.
When Angel's soul had still been intact,
Spike had hated him for allying himself with
the slayer.
After he'd returned to their vampire family,
Spike's hate for Angel had grown by leaps
and bounds.
Resentment of the way Angel had walked
in and taken over, as if nothing had ever
come between them, had tormented Spike
night and day.
Gradually, he came to despise everything
about his sire. The assumption that he and
Drusilla would just fall into line behind them
and follow his orders, no matter how loony
they were, and Angel's constant taunting
of Spike's ability, or lack of it, to satisfy Dru-
silla while stuck in a wheelchair, had been
bad enough.
But the thing that had pushed him over the
edge had been the way Drusilla gave herself
completely to Angel.
She'd done anything he'd asked of her, whether
it was crawling into his bed, or plotting to
to send the entire world to hell in a hand-
basket.
So, he'd come to find the slayer with an offer
of truce, promising to help her destroy Angel
in exchange for safe pasage out of town.
Against her better judgement, Buffy had
accepted the offer, and had condemned
Angel to the hell he'd planned for the entire
world.
Spike had kept his promise and taken
Drusilla out of the country, but the damage
had been done, and he'd never managed to
make her forget Angel.
They'd been in South America when the
final break up had played out.
When it was truly over, he'd returned to
Sunnydale without thinking twice.
Which had been a mistake.
The Initiative had bagged him and tagged
him, stopping him in his tracks.
Buffy's relationship with Spike had taken
a turn for the surreal, changing from bitter
enemies, to uneasy allies, to reluctant
friends, with an always present undercurrent
of physical attraction buzzing between them.
And, tonight, they were going to take the
final steps in the dance they'd been per-
forming for so long, and start a brand new
one.
There was going to be a future with Spike. He
wasn't the "love 'em and leave 'em" type. Once
they started down this road, there would be no
turning back.
Buffy felt a wave of shivery anticipation wash
over her.
She had forgotten how good it felt when this
point in a romance arrived. When you knew
that you wanted someone more than anything,
and that they wanted you just as badly.
The moment when you woke up to the fact
that, without knowing when it had happen-
ed, you had fallen in love.
And she WAS in love. She knew it now, as
surely as she knew anything. These feelings
were far too deep to be anything less.
Everything pointed to it.
The desire to make herself look as pretty
as she could when she knew she'd be
seeing him; to wear something in his
favorite color or do her hair in a way he
liked; the agony of watching time crawl
by as she waited for him to show up,
and the worry that simmered in her when
he was late.
And there was the jealousy that swamped
her whenever he talked about his years with
Drusilla, even in the most offhand way.
But Drusilla wasn't the only one to stir up
Buffy's inner green eyed monster.
She'd been out in public with Spike plenty
of times, and had seen the looks on the
faces of nearly every woman that walked
by them.
Although this irritated her, it didn't surprise
her. A woman would have to be blind, deaf,
and stupid not to be instantly attracted to
Spike.
He oozed sex appeal from every pore.
His beautifully sculpted face and penetrating
eyes, the hard muscle and instinctive grace
of his body, combined with his cocky attitude
and sexy accent, was a lethal combination
designed to drive a girl wild.
He certainly was driving HER that way
lately. Another sign that she was in
love...the intensity of her "I want him and
I want him right NOW!" feelings.
The only thing that still concerned her was
whether or not they'd be accepted as a
couple by the others.
Everyone had adjusted long ago to Spike
being a part of their team. This didn't mean,
however, that they'd adjust to a romantic
relationship between the slayer and another
vampire.
She knew Dawn would have no problem
with it. She adored Spike, considering him
an honorary big brother.
As far as Dawn was concerned, Spike could
move in tomorrow.
**Now, THERE'S something to think about. Get-
ting him out of that dark, moldy crypt and into
someplace civilized...like my bedroom**
She intended to spend a lot of time with Spike,
and she wasn't about to do it in some hole
in the ground, no matter how well furnished it
might be.
Willow would probably be okay with Spike
being Buffy's significant other. She knew
what it was like to be in love with some-
one...different, and even though Oz was
no longer a part of her life, there was still
a great deal of affection between them.
And, Willow was the type of person who
wanted everyone around her to be as happy
as she was.
Buffy was far more worried about Giles'
and Xander's reaction.
Even though they had come to an under-
standing with Spike, Buffy was afraid
that they would always see him as a
demon, first and foremost. A vampire
with no redemptive soul, no matter
how worthy he might turn out to be.
But at the same time, they seemed to
realize that Spike wasn't going to go away.
They acknowledged it, came to terms with
it, and even managed to accept it with
good grace...most of the time.
Still, she knew that their accepting him as
a friend or, as Xander put it, a member of
her posse, did in no way guarantee their
acceptance of him as a love interest for
her.
In the drama that was her life, Giles and Xander
had permanently cast Spike in the role of
supporting player, NOT leading man.
They might not go disgruntled postal worker
on her, but they WOULD disapprove, and
she'd always had an irrational fear of that
disapproval.
But sitting here now, for the first time, the thought
of that disapproval didn't upset her or scare her.
It irked her.
**Let them disapprove. I'm all grown up now and
I deserve to be happy just as much as THEY
do. Spike makes me happy and that should be
enough for them**
Life was just too damn short not to wring every
ounce of happiness out of it that you could.
Her life in particular was chock-full of danger and
the constant threat of sudden death.
She couldn't afford to turn down any opportunities.
"This is MY life! And I'm gonna spend every day
of it with the...the man I love."
There. She'd finally said it, and the sky wasn't
falling...the earth wasn't splitting in two...and
they weren't being plunged into nuclear winter.
"I love him...I love Spike...Spike is the man
I love..."
She tried the words on for size, and they
sounded damn good.
"I--AM--IN--LOVE!"
At that moment, as though it had been planned
that way, she heard Spike's car pull into the
driveway. "Now THAT'S timing!"
She flew across the room to the mirror at
the bottom of the stairs to see how she looked.
She wasn't surprised to see that, ap-
pearance aside, she looked happy. Com-
pletely.
The front door opened, and she turned with
a smile to greet her future as he walked into the
room.
TBC....next chapter: the payoff!
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