“Well, what do you think?”  Rupert said as the realtor left them alone in the living room of the sixth apartment they’d checked out.

He’d had to watch Spike force a bland expression on his face at the tactless remarks from some of the realtors.  So far the previous places all had at least one negative to prevent them from taking it any further, but Rupert thought this small apartment might just be the one.

Spike paused before replying.  “I like it.”

“Enough to go ahead with the rental?”

“I think so.   I mean, it’s in a good location, the layout is easy to remember, and I like the little private paved yard.  Does it need any work?”  He grinned.  “It’s not painted pink or anything, is it?”

Rupert laughed.  “No, it’s in very good order.  Neutral tones throughout.”  He walked over to the man he thought of as his son.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Don’t you start on at me.  Bad enough mum keeps blowing hot and cold about me moving out without you doing it too.”

Putting a hand on Spike’s shoulder, Rupert said, “I just want you to be certain that you’re ready for this.”

“I know.  I know.”  Spike turned his face towards Rupert.  “But, yeah, I am sure.  It’s something I’ve got to do and I am only renting.  If it all goes tits up, I can come home with my tail between my legs.”

“Good grief, you really do have a way with words.”  He squeezed Spike’s shoulder before letting his hand fall to his side.  “I’m sure you’ll be fine.  I know this may sound rather lame, and I’ve said it before, but I am proud of you.  You’re working hard to get back your independence and it’s paying off.  Just remember, if you need anything, all you need to do is ask, okay?”

“Okay.  Thanks, Rupert.”

Rupert nodded curtly.  “Now shall we get the paperwork started?”

Spike’s face split into a grin.  “Why not!”

An hour later, the agreements were signed and they could pick up the keys the next day.

The flat had been leased unfurnished and with Rupert’s, and - to a lesser extent – his mother’s help, Spike furnished it with items that made it comfortable yet still easy to navigate.  He’d cursed himself when Rupert gently prompted him to get a couple of table lamps, one for the living room and one for the bedside cabinet, to ensure Spike’s sighted guests didn’t only have to use the ceiling lights. 

When he spent his first night there, he played his guitar.  Lyrics came from nowhere to the tune that had been in his head for a while.  It was rough and he doubted he’d ever share it with anyone, but it made him feel whole and positive about his future.

*~*~*~*

Spike drove Buffy crazy by not allowing her to come to the apartment until he’d been living there for a week. Finally invited over, she pressed her thumb to the buzzer to the intercom for his home.

“Spike?”

She’d barely got the word out before Spike replied.  Not that he’d be hovering near the intercom for the past fifteen minutes or anything.

“Hi.  Come on in.  I’m the first door on the right.”

He rubbed his palms on his jeans and walked over to perch on the arm of the deep red leather sofa, having left the door ajar.

Buffy rapped on the door then walked in. 

“Hey, you.”  She crossed the space between them in three long strides and firmly planted a kiss on his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around her, he murmured in her ear, “God, I’ve missed you.”

She laughed.  “We were together yesterday.”

“So…I still missed you.”

“Yeah, me too.”  She took his hand in hers.  “So do I get the tour?”

“It won’t take long.”  He waved his free hand around.  “This is the living room, obviously.”

Buffy cast her eyes around the space, taking in the red rug that went well with the sofa and the lamp on the low side table, illuminating the room with a soft yellow light.  To her surprise, there was a print on the wall behind the sofa, and a small flat plasma screen TV stood in one corner. 

As if he had been able to see her eyes widen in surprise, Spike said, “I got the telly, ‘cause I thought you might like to watch it when you’re here, and I can listen to MTV on it.”

Just hearing him sound so matter-of-fact about his blindness brought a lump to her throat.  Sandar had done him so much good. 

“Can’t think of anything I’d like better than snuggling up with you on this big sofa.”

Spike grinned.  “That’s a shame, ‘cause I was going to show you my bedroom next.”

“You are so bad!”  Buffy bumped shoulders with him.  “But, yes, I want to see the bedroom.”

She allowed Spike to lead her over to a door at the rear of the living room.  “This is it.  What do you think?  Bloody Rupert really took the piss when I said I wanted a king –sized bed.”

Pulling him further inside, Buffy giggled when they reached the bed.  “Let’s try it out.”

“No time.  Dinner’s nearly rea—”  A loud buzzer sounded.  “Correction. Dinner is ready.”

“Shame.”  Buffy kissed him and rubbed her hand over his jeans clad groin.

Spike groaned.  “Jeez, quit it.  I spent half the bloody day in the kitchen.  Not to mention this.”  He held up a finger, its tip covered with a blue band-aid.

“Ooh, poor baby.” 

“Piss off.”  His grin belied the harsh words.  “Come on.  You can sit at the table while I dish up.”

Hand in hand they walked through to the kitchen/dining room.  A similar size to the living room, one end was fitted with cupboards.  The marble effect work surfaces glinted under the lights that Spike had flicked on as they walked in.  The end nearest the door had a round wooden dining table, with four matching chairs.  It was set for two people.  Faultlessly laid out, Buffy had a surge of pride that he’d been able to do it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

Spike snorted.  “You?  In the kitchen?  That really would be the blind leading the blind.”

“Hey!”

They dissolved into laughter until Spike managed to pull himself together enough to take the casserole out of the oven.  He measured his strides to the dining table and placed it only slightly off centre on the table, before going back for the potatoes baked in their jackets that had also been in the oven. 

Buffy watched, fascinated, while he placed one on each plate and sliced a cross on each with his knife,before squeezing them open.  He put a plate down in front of Buffy and another where he was going to sit.

“Oh, nearly forgot the wine.” 

He got out a bottle of white zinfandel and returned to the table.

“Uh…probably best if you serve yourself with the food and the wine, if that’s okay?” 

He uncorked the wine with an ease that made her think he’d been able to do it blindfolded before fate robbed him of his sight.  Using the oven-gloves, he took the lid off the casserole dish.

“It smells gorgeous!”  Buffy reached out and squeezed his hand.  “Thank you for doing this for me.  I’ve never had a guy cook dinner for me that wasn’t a barbecue.”

“Don’t think I’d be very safe with a barbie,” said Spike. “Never been much of a one for burnt sausages, though, so no great loss.”

Buffy nearly dropped the ladle of chicken casserole that was halfway to her plate at his words. 

As if he could see her gawping at him, he said, “What?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“I mean was there a reason you suddenly held your breath and stopped moving?” 

“How did you know I did that?”  Buffy poured the casserole onto her plate and put the ladle back in the dish.

Spike shrugged.  “Easy.  I heard you take a breath but you didn’t let it out.  Your blouse rustles a little when you move.  It stopped rustling hence you stopped moving.  So what did I do to make you do that?”

“Hell, Spike.  You’re more observant than anyone I know!”  She quickly leaned over, managing to surprise him with a kiss.  “I just love that you seem more at ease with yourself.  Having your own place is really helping you, isn’t it?”

Resting a hand on her knee, Spike said, “Yeah, well when I was at Sandar, I got to thinking that I could either mope about and be bitter for the rest of my life, or else try to make something of it.  I had a great incentive.”

“What, getting away from your mother?”  Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth as soon as she said it.  “Crap, I’m sorry.  I really shouldn’t have said that.”

“’S okay.  Getting my own flat was something I wanted to do, but my main incentive…was you.”

“Me?”

He nodded.  “You.  I know we haven’t been dating for long and I still can’t believe that you’re here with me, but I want to be able to be more than the blind boyfrie—”

“I would never think of you like that!”  She slapped his arm.  “Never!”

“Ow!  I didn’t mean it like that.”  Spike rubbed a hand through his hair.  “Look, I just…oh, I don’t know…I just wanted to be useful, not just sit back and let you do everything.  If I want friends to come round to dinner, I wanted to be able to cook for them.”  He smiled.  “I used to have this big list of things I wanted to do before I died.  I’ve had to chuck most of the ideas out, but I’ve made a new list and not being useless is top of it.”

“What was on your list?”

“Uh…it was stupid.  Look, let’s eat before the food gets cold.  Remember I damn near chopped my finger off when I was cutting the onions.”

“Okay.  I’ll eat, but only because I’m starving and this is delicious.  You can tell me about your list later.” 

*~*~*~*

The meal over and dishes stacked in the dishwasher, Spike and Buffy lay entwined on the sofa, the CD "Science and Faith" by The Script playing softly in the background. The conversation got round to Spike’s list as he knew it would. 

“So what was on it then?” 

He sighed.  Did he really want to outline all the things he couldn’t hope to do any more when he was getting more positive? 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” said Buffy, snuggling even closer to him.

“Nah, it’s okay.  Half the things were bloody daft anyway.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, I dunno…like bungee-jumping.”

“You could still do that.  Unless the doctors advised against it.”

“No, Buffy.  I can’t.”  The blunt tone of voice made Buffy look at him sharply.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m terrified of heights.  I would have never made it to the top of the bridge or crane, let alone fling myself off!”  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head.  “I wrote most of them when I was pissed.”

“What else?  A serious one this time.  Something you would love to do.”

“Well, there is something that I would love to do, but it’s only just got to the top of the list so I’m not sure it’d count or that I’d be doing it for all the right reasons.”

Intrigued, Buffy sat up.  “What is it?”

“I’d love to take you to London.  Show you the sights, even though I’d be a lousy guide.”

“I would love that.  But,” she frowned, “what did you mean about the right reasons?” 

“Well, I’d sort of like to show you off, to my mates…er…the blokes I used to be mates with.  Don’t get mad at me.  I had a lot of mates back then, suppose really most were just acquaintances.  When I had the crash, they were all there for me to begin with, but when the docs said I’d never be able to…that I was blind…they all sort of faded away.  By the time Mum took me out of England, the ones that had hung around ‘cause they felt sorry for me let out a sigh of relief, metaphorically waved me off and that was that.”

“God, Spike, that’s awful.  Haven’t any kept in touch?”

He shook his head.  “Don’t blame them really.  Look, I was a bit of a pillock back then.  Used to go out a lot, get pissed up.  We all thought we were bleeding invincible; my accident proved we weren’t.”

“Still…”

“Yeah.  Hence the childish desire to go back to good old Blighty and just happen to drop in for a drink in my old local with a red hot California girl on my arm.  Show them I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

He kissed Buffy before she could protest at what he’d said.  The kiss increased in heat and when their lips parted, the conversation was forgotten.  Later, drenched in sweat, flopped out on the bed, gasping like fish out of water, Spike and Buffy could barely remember their names. 

“Holy cow,” Spike muttered, hoping his heart rate would soon get back to something like normal.

“Hmm?”  Buffy was losing the battle to stay awake.

Spike closed his eyes and listened to her breathing, which was becoming almost as familiar to him as his own.  Again, he whispered the words he daren’t yet voice when she was awake.

“I love you.”

This time she heard him.