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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here it is folks, the idea that set up home in my head, months before I worked up the nerve to put finger to keyboard. This idea has been screaming at me since long before I made my smutty debut and I’m so glad to have finally written it down. This is my baby... my own personal gripe fic, and my attempt to right the Spike bashing wrongness of series six!

Beta’d by Dawnof me

I hope you enjoy your trip into the Spuffy loving land of denial that is my brain, and thank you to dawnofme, amyxaphania, maryperk73703, ssddgr and dragonflylady for your help and encouragement to bite the bullet in the first place. *hugs and kisses*


They sat in comfortable silence, each unwilling to broach the subject of Buffy’s statement lest their newfound openness suffer as a consequence. For his part, Spike was becoming increasingly certain that he was dreaming. That he was passed out on his crypt floor and sleeping off a major whiskey binge. Come tomorrow, the only thing he’d have to show for this extraordinary night would be a stiff neck and a painful soddin’ hangover.

To his astonishment, Buffy had expressed thoughts and emotions the likes of which he never dared hope would pass her lips. God help him if this was indeed an alcohol-induced hallucination, because Spike had no earthly idea how he could possibly carry on as normal.

Or what passed for normal on a Hellmouth at least.

“Sometimes I forget how simple life used to be.”

Spike was pulled from his speculative musings by the sound of Buffy’s voice. Soft and wistful, she sounded like the teenager he first met upon his arrival to good old Sunnyhell. Smiling gently, he turned to face her side on. “Before dying?”

“Before Sunnydale,” she replied. “Before my calling. Before everything. I used to wish that I’d never been chosen, that I could have stayed a regular teenager.” Buffy sniggered and mirrored his position on the swing. “But then I’d remember what sort of person I was back then and think maybe being the Slayer isn’t so bad after all.”

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow in silent query. “Sorry, sweets, didn’t follow you round that bend. You’ve always seemed the same to me. Stubborn, tenacious, faithful to a fault. Maybe a bit on the naive side where the Great Ponce is concerned. And granted, most of the bloody time I saw you as a pain in my arse but still... ”

“Spike!” Buffy suppressed a grin and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Quit while you’re ahead, huh?”

His mouth broke into a blinding smile as hope lit up his features. “I’m ahead?”

Ignoring his thinly veiled question, Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she considered his rambled words. “You thought that? Even when you were trying to kill me?”

“Can’t say as I ever really tried that hard.” Spike heaved a dramatic sigh and cocked his head to the side. “I’ve bested two Slayers in my time, sweetheart. If I really wanted you dead back then, don’t you think I’d have found a way?”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Buffy’s bottom lip formed an adorable pout. “And here I thought I was just that good.”

Her sarcastic comment brought a rich chuckle to Spike’s lips. “You are that damn good, love. Truth be told, you’re the best I’ve ever seen.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and was rewarded by a smile. “Despite everythin’ we’ve been through, the fact remains we’re both still standing. Well, sitting as the case may be. I knew you were something special from the start.” Spike stroked his thumb over the back of her hand and fixed a cocky smirk to his handsome face. “Now quit postponin’ and let’s hear it. What was so terrible about pre-slayer Buffy?”

Frowning, she met his eyes and said in a flat deadpan, “I made Harmony look like a humanitarian.”

Spike was unable to suppress his wince at the mention of his ditzy ex. Buffy caught the involuntary action and shifted her weight to nudge against his shoulder. “Aww, what’s the matter, Blondie Bear?” she asked, smiling sweetly at his good-natured growl. “That image too much for the Big Bad to handle?”

A devilish smirk curled his lips as Spike swept his eyes over Buffy’s body in a fiery caress. His hands travelled to rest at his belt buckle and he swiped his tongue seductively over his blunt human teeth. “Better watch it, little girl, or I’ll show you exactly what this vamp can handle! ” He grinned again as Buffy’s eyes were irresistibly drawn towards his confined bulge and she flushed an attractive shade of pink. “And for the record, there is no bloody way you could have been as bad as that daft twit. How the silly bint didn’t manage to stake herself, I’ll never know!”

Spike’s relationship with the scatter-brained vampire was not one of his proudest achievements. In truth, she was nothing more than a convenient place to put his dick when he needed a shag. Nevertheless, Spike was a man first and foremost, and what Harmony lacked in mental prowess, she more than made up for in the titty department. At a time when his thoughts were monopolised by a certain perky young slayer, Harmony’s talents in the bedroom were the only reason that Spike tolerated her presence at all. The only time the girl ever quit yapping was when her lips were wrapped around his cock. Although in the end, her constant yammering about clothes and soddin’ unicorns wasn’t worth the endless supply of enthusiastic blowjobs she provided.

Buffy laughed at the apt description of the incompetent vampiress, although the sharp stab of jealousy she felt at the idea of Spike ever having touched the blonde moron diminished her fun considerably. It wasn’t hard to imagine the basis of their relationship. They sure as hell weren’t discussing politics on those long lonely nights, but how dare someone like Harmony experience what was so stringently denied to her.

The only one in denial is you, her inner voice piped up. Take a page out of Faith’s book; take what you want. Be happy. You deserve it!

“Buffy, love.” Spike was suddenly struck by the need to explain himself. “There was nothin’ real between me an’ Harm. You know that, yeah? She was just some tarty substitute for the one person I really wanted—the one I thought I couldn’t have. Much the same as that bloody bot.”

Bollocks.

Spike hadn’t intended to mention that monstrosity ever again. How he could have thought to replicate his goddess with that jumbled mess of wire and plastic was ridiculous. Sure, he’d used it to get his rocks off, but it soon served as a bitter reminder that Buffy was far beyond his pitiful reach. Sensing that the Slayer was no more inclined to discuss it than he was, the vampire rushed to change the subject.

“So, is that why you came here then,” Spike asked as he looked around the abandoned playground, determined to ignore his slip. “Tryin’ to relive your childhood?”

Appreciating his discretion, Buffy shrugged and followed his exploratory gaze. “Maybe… I didn’t think about it at the time. I just didn’t want to go home.”

Spike straightened his legs and folded his arms against his chest, the epitome of seriousness on a child’s plaything. “Want to know what I think?”

Buffy stifled the laugh that bubbled within her at the amusing spectacle he presented, and looked him square in the eye. “Enlighten me.”

“I think you’re scared.”

“That’s—”

“Bloody terrified in fact.”

“Spike, I’m the Slayer. I don’t do scared.”

“Whatever you say, goldilocks. We’ll settle for overwhelmed then shall we?”

The intended protest died on Buffy’s lips as Spike surveyed their rundown surroundings.

“Reckon you played in a park like this when you were nothin’ but a bitty Buffy,” he said. “Back before you were called. Back before you became the chosen saviour of puppies and bloody Christmas. I figure being here makes you feel safe.”

He watched the emotions shift over her face but Buffy made no effort to refute his claims. Emboldened, Spike gestured towards the wrought iron railings that ran around the perimeter of the park. Rusted and weather-beaten, but solid as the day is long.

“That fence over there, it keeps everyone else away, doesn’t it, love?” Without breaking her gaze, Spike smiled knowingly and tilted his head to the side. “Nobody on at you. No rules. No demands. Just those you place on yourself. An’ I think you came here to try an’ remember what it felt like to be that little blonde cutie without the weight of the world on her shoulders.” Winking, he shrugged nonchalantly. “Or maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe you just didn’t fancy another round of earache from your chums.”

Buffy stared at him open-mouthed, as effortlessly, Spike managed to sum up her intentions in three simple sentences. “Okay, Doctor Freud,” she replied, “since when did you get so insightful?”

Spike threw his head back and a riotous bark of laughter tore from his throat. With casual grace, he rose from his swing and moved to stand behind her. His fingers covered Buffy’s small digits where they rested, wrapped securely around the chains, and leaning forward, he whispered teasingly in her ear. “Oh, slayer, I’m a man of many talents.”

His cool breath tickled the back of her neck and Buffy felt a shiver course down her spine at his renewed proximity. With deliberate ease, he released her hands and placed his palms firmly on her slender waist. Buffy’s heart raced as Spike tightened his grip and drew the swing backwards until her torso was flush against his chest.

Slowly, Buffy turned her head until she met his intense gaze. “I’m starting to see that.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Spikes oh-so-kissable mouth and subconsciously, her tongue snuck out to wet her own bottom lip. She smiled as the action caused the vampire to groan softly. “Actually, that’s a lie,” she said. “I think I’m finally ready to admit it.”

“God, sweetheart.” Spike’s eyes were trained on the tantalising sight before him. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Coyly, Buffy searched his gaze. “I have a fairly good idea.” Smiling brightly, she wriggled in her seat. “Now quit staring, vampire, and make yourself useful!”

Chuckling, Spike took a step backwards and set the swing in motion.

“Hold on tight, Goldilocks.”

With one solid push, Buffy was propelled forward. She laughed as she soared back and forth. Within seconds, she was so high that the swing began to jerk at the apex of each ascent, as gravity briefly removed her weight from the seat.

“Higher!” she said, smiling as Spike’s hands met her lower back and sent her forward once more.

Buffy couldn’t believe this was happening. She felt like a kid again, free of responsibilities and never-ending duties. She couldn’t remember the last time she relaxed and had fun, and the fact that she was experiencing it with Spike was mindboggling.

“If I push you any higher you’ll go over the top!”

His eyes sparkled with undisguised merriment as Spike watched Buffy let go of her worries, albeit only temporarily. And in that moment he had never been prouder.

Buffy’s legs shot out in front and then curled beneath her as she clung securely to the chains. “Dare me to let go?” she asked.

Spike laughed in joyous relief, unable to resist taunting his golden goddess. “Watch it, love,” he said, pushing her again. “Wouldn’t want you to land on that pretty little face of yours!”

“Don’t worry about me, bleach boy!” Buffy giggled and shot him a look of pure determination as she arced through the air. “Okay, here goes,” she said, soaring forwards. “One... two... three!”

As the swing reached the zenith of its flight, Buffy released her grip and her vision blurred as she flew through the air. High above the ground, for the briefest of moments, she felt weightless and free. Her lungs ached, her heart pounded a relentless staccato in her chest and for the first time since her resurrection, she felt truly alive.

Legs bent for impact, Buffy hit the ground running. Her momentum carried her forward until she regained her balance and turned to face the smirking master vampire. Laughing, she met his euphoric gaze and marvelled at the emotion displayed in his eyes.

“Oh my God!” Buffy tried to calm her breathing, surprised at her own recklessness. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

Spike walked a few steps towards her, frowning when Buffy took a step back in response. However, his concern was instantly alleviated when a teasing grin appeared on her face and the Slayer took off running towards the slide. Taking the rungs of the metal ladder two at a time, Buffy quickly reached the top and sat down to stare at Spike who waited at the end of the chute.

A mysterious smile lit up her face as Buffy let her head fall back to look at the night sky. “Do you believe in fate?” she asked.

“Written in the stars?” Spike tilted his head to the side and considered his response. “I like to think I’m in control of my own future, but live as long as I have, you see all manner of weird an’ wonderful things.”

Instinctively, Spike’s mind was drawn to thoughts of his prophetic sire and Miss bloody Edith. Drusilla accurately predicted his love for the Slayer; long before the vampire himself realised his thoughts were of a decidedly un-fatal disposition. He’d fought ardently to renounce the unnatural truth, but as he contemplated the young woman before him, Spike wondered if his destiny was indeed inevitable.

Unhurriedly, Buffy tore her eyes from the starlit panorama above and proffered him a meaningful smile. “Sometimes I wonder if certain things are just meant to be, you know. If maybe I had to experience everything I have in order to really appreciate what I have in front of me now.”

Expectation conflicted with uncertainty as Spike considered the potential implications of her ambiguous statement. “Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” he said, inhaling deeply. Superfluous air filled his useless lungs, as Spike returned her evocative grin. Anxiously, he ran his hands through his tousled hair and met her forthright gaze. “I know bugger all ‘bout fate, love, but I can tell you one thing’s for sure. If I hadn’t met Dru all those years ago, I never would’ve been turned and made it to this Godforsaken town in the first place.”

Glimpses of his action-packed affiliation with the Slayer flashed through his mind, and Spike continued his step-by-step analysis of their entangled history. “What’s more,” he said, “if Angelus hadn’t reared his humungous soddin’ forehead I’d likely still be with her. I’d be out there someplace, raisin’ merry hell and snackin’ on human happy meals like any other respectable vampire.” Pausing momentarily, Spike watched the emotions war on Buffy’s features. “Hell, pet, if I didn’t have this bleedin’ chip messin’ with my head, Christ knows where we’d be now. Reckon you’d have likely staked me during some half-arsed evil stunt long ago.”

The Slayer felt the familiar ache of rejection spread throughout her stomach as she considered the inadvertent repercussions of her own actions on the enigmatic vampire. Tears welled in her tired eyes and she hung her head in dejection as her worst suspicions were seemingly confirmed. Why would Spike want to stick around and help save the world if he could be out there leading the anarchic life his demonic nature thrived on?

“Buffy, look at me, sweetheart.” Spike’s solemn tone broke through her fearful reverie and she blinked back her unbidden tears. “I don’t know where I would’ve ended up, and truthfully I couldn’t give a rat’s arse, because no matter the cost, I will never regret findin’ you.”

Instantaneously, her eyes shot up to meet his truthful expression. The unmitigated sincerity that shone in his eyes caused a solitary tear to spill down the apple of her cheek, and Buffy held her breath as Spike swallowed and continued unreservedly.

“Knowing you... lovin’ you, it turned my entire bloody life upside down. You made me want to change and be a better person. So fate or happenstance—call it what you will, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Buffy had cried her weight in tears since her return and she was damned sick of it; she doubted, however, that she had shed her last this night. Sniffling, she swallowed hard and forced her words past the impeding lump in her throat.

“Every time I allow myself to care for someone—” Her voice faltered and became little more than a fraught whisper. Slowly, Buffy inhaled a calming breath and tried again. “People always leave me, Spike. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I drive them away. Whatever it is, I clearly can’t keep them satisfied. Angel, Riley—God, even Parker couldn’t wait to get away from me.”

Spike inwardly seethed at the blatant insecurity the so-called men in her life had created. Her former lovers and even the girl’s own father had individually turned their backs and walked away—and from her broken words it appeared that Buffy assumed he would too. Reining in his furious demon, Spike summoned the fortitude to moderate his voice and continue in an even tone.

“Sweetling,” Spike maintained his determined gaze and willed her to see his earnestness. “Did you ever stop to think that the problem lay with those pillocks, and not you?”

Buffy’s brows furrowed in scepticism as she carefully considered his words.

“Riley was an insecure fool and a bloody idiot for doing what he did.” A lopsided grin appeared on his lips and Spike shrugged his shoulders in false indifference. “But let’s face it, love, three generations of farm-boy inbreedin’ is bound to mess with your head.”

The vampire prided himself at the reluctant smile that tugged at Buffy’s lips. What his girl ever saw in that gormless sod or his prancing arse of a grandsire, he would never understand, but as far as Spike was concerned, before long it wouldn’t matter. If he could make Buffy realise that they belonged together, he would worship the ground she walked on and make her forget those tossers ever existed.

“Peaches is an overbearing control freak who has far too many bloody issues to go into tonight.” Spike smirked and sent Buffy a flirtatious wink, “And just so we’re clear, Parker was a wanker. I’m amazed the prat managed to locate his own dick, let alone use it. They didn’t deserve you, Buffy.” Spike watched the conflicting emotions flit over her features and decided to lay it all on the line. “You’ve gotta get it through that stubborn head of yours, pet. Normal will never be enough for you. No matter how much you try an’ convince yourself otherwise.”

Her small smile blossomed into a radiant grin, and Buffy shook her head in amusement as a chuckle escaped from her throat. At the wondrous sight before him, Spike fought the overwhelming urge to rush forward and take her in his arms.

“I’m not like the others, love,” he whispered. “And you’re not going to scare me away.”

“But what if I’m not enough?” Buffy asked, her eyes awash with anxiety. “What if I can’t make you happy?”

Spike almost burst into hysterical laughter at her preposterous questions. The mere glimpse of a genuine smile aimed in his direction was enough to make his blood sing. Heaven only knew how it would feel to have his every wet dream fulfilled. Even so, the look in her eyes reminded him of a frightened doe staring down a deadly cougar, and baseless though her concerns may be, it was only the sight of her obvious vulnerability that stayed his tongue.

“I want to let go of my past,” she said in a pleading voice. “I do. I want to be happy—but I don’t know how.”

Swallowing hard, Spike found that he was panting as a residual part of his human psyche fought to drag unneeded air into his overwrought lungs. “There’s no quick fix, pet,” he said. “It’s going to take time but we’ll get through it. I don’t care how bloody long it takes, or how hard it gets—but whenever you’re ready, when you’re finally able to let go—I’ll be right here waitin’ to catch you.”

Buffy’s lips turned into a wavering smile as she wiped an errant tear from her cheek. “Okay, you need to stop doing that,” she said. “It’s bad enough that I’m an emotional mess, but the red-eyed snotty look... so not attractive.”

“You’re beautiful,” Spike replied, “even with the puffy eyes and mascara streaks.” Slowly he tilted his head to the side and gave her an appraising once over. “Although, now that you mention it I s’pose you do look pretty disgustin’...”

Buffy’s gasp of indignation caused him to snigger helplessly, and Spike was suddenly grateful that she was perched atop the slide and out of striking distance.

“Oh, bite me,” she said, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance.

“Love to, sweetheart,” he replied, curling his tongue over his teeth. “I’d make it so good for you—not like those piss poor excuse for vamps you’ve known before.” Spike’s eyes glazed over at the thought of burying himself, cock and fangs, inside Buffy’s welcoming body. Under a thrall, she’d slept right through Dracula’s bite. Old Bat Face and his poncy grandsire hadn’t cared whether she got off, but Spike knew that done right, he could make her see the stars.

Sobering, he regained his composure and offered her a brilliant smile. “Buffy, sweetheart.” Spike’s voice was devoid of his previous playful mocking; his piercing gaze fixed on her attentive eyes. “I swear I won’t disappoint you. If you let me into your life, I promise I’ll be the man you deserve.” Sighing, he looked down in uncharacteristic shyness. “I know I can’t offer you everythin’ a bloke with a pulse can but—”

“I don’t need those things, Spike,” Buffy replied softly. “It’s not like I was planning on 2.4 kids and a home with a white picket fence and scenic view of the Hellmouth.” She watched the range of emotions flit over his open features and smiled at the cautious happiness she saw there. “It doesn’t matter if your heart beats. I just need to know it’s mine.”

Spike sighed as the heavy weight of uncertainty lifted from his aching chest. “It’s yours, kitten, only yours. I don’t want anybody else.”

Buffy’s hands tightened on the smooth edges of the slide and she shuffled forwards, unsuccessfully fighting the fresh deluge of tears that brimmed in her eyes. “My heart’s a bit bruised and battered. I’ve built up walls and—”

“—I’ll break them down. Let me in, love, an’ I’ll cherish it. Won’t let it get hurt again, I swear.”

An icy gust of wind whipped her blonde hair around her face, and the Slayer watched as the first few drops of rain splashed down onto the metal framework. Smiling, she let her head fall backwards, watching the cool droplets fall from the heavens above. And as the precipitation landed on her forehead, Buffy closed her eyes, allowing the cleansing moisture to baptise her upturned face.

How could she fight her attraction when his mere presence made her ache and had her trembling? How could she win when such a big part of her wanted to lose, to give in and let Spike conquer her to the very last cell of her being?

Those brief seconds felt like an eternity for the highly-strung vampire. Empires rose and fell in the time it took for Buffy’s head to loll forward. A relaxed smile danced on her lips, and ever so slowly, she opened her eyes to meet his expectant gaze. Spike shuddered as a look of sheer determination flashed over her features, and abruptly, she looked back at the moonlit sky before propelling herself forward. The ride was over much too soon, and the Slayer found herself sitting at the bottom of the slide, staring into the fathomless eyes of her future. With slow deliberation, Spike moved towards her, and Buffy trembled as he reached out to smooth her displaced hair back behind her ear.

“We’re in this together, right?” Buffy asked in a shaky voice that exposed her nervousness.

“Forever,” Spike whispered as Buffy nuzzled her face against his cool palm, leisurely bringing her small hand up to cover his. Gazes fixed, the Slayer interlocked their fingers and deliberately leaned back against the cold metal of the slide. The expression on her face was that of sheer acceptance, and Spike’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. Unhurriedly, he leant over her prone body, supporting his weight with one hand above Buffy’s head.

Muscles locked, tense, and riddled with anxiety, Spike remained in a state of disbelief as Buffy gently squeezed the fingers at her cheek. Their lips were separated by nought but their mingled breath, and steadily, Buffy slid her hand up to rest at his leather clad shoulder.

“Tell me you love me,” she whispered against Spike’s mouth.

“I love you. You know I do.”

Teasingly, her fingers wandered through his soft curls as she breathed her words against his ear. “Tell me you want me.”

Buffy’s eyes fell to Spike’s supple lips.

“I always want you. In point of fact—”

The time for talking was over. Hungrily, Buffy smashed her mouth against his in a passionate embrace, impatiently nibbling at Spike’s bottom lip as she begged for admittance. The stunned vampire failed to respond immediately and Buffy nipped him gently in admonishment, quickly soothing the delicious pain with a sweep of her warm tongue. The action pulled Spike out of his astonished state and he returned her kiss with greedy fervour.

Breaking for air, Buffy rested her forehead against his and watched as Spike’s heavy lidded eyes fluttered open.

“I want you too.”



Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for all the kind words about this fic. Hope you enjoy the update.

PS. If anybody out there in Spuffyland is feeling artistic, I would be thrilled if you could make me a banner *flutters eyelids* If you did I promise to bring on the sexcapades... yeah right... like there was ever any doubt! :)



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