Now, she was seated with Spike at the table of a breakfast nook he had, set slightly off from his very large, very fancy looking kitchen. Had Buffy been able to actually cook a decent meal, she'd want to do it there.
But Spike had always been the better chef in the relationship, and from the breakfast she'd just finished eating, that hadn't changed. How the man could make something as simple as an omelette that tasty was still something she couldn't figure out.
Spike reached across the table and took her hand, lacing their fingers together, unable to stop the large grin spreading over his face. This morning was perfect—the way he wished every morning could be for the rest of his life.
Buffy smiled back and gave his hand a squeeze. "This feels almost like a dream," she said after a moment. "It was only a little over a week ago when I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you again, and then here we are, all with the happy togetherness."
"I know." Spike chuckled. "It really didn't take us long to get back together, did it?"
"Not once we saw each other again," Buffy replied with a shake of her head. Then, she glanced down at the table, her smile waning. "I guess we really did just waste three years."
"Don't dwell on that, pet. Like I said last night, this time may have been good for us, gave us a little time to grow and realize how much we really do want to be together." Buffy looked back up at him, and Spike winked. "Besides, it gave me lots of ideas for new songs, which is something."
Buffy laughed. "I heard one of them, I think. That 'Long Time' one. You sounded, um…bitter."
"I was," Spike replied, looking somewhat sheepish.
"Are there others?" Buffy asked. "You said you had lots of ideas…"
"Yeah, there's others. Some that turned out all right, some didn't." He coughed. "I actually wrote one last week, after that first phone conversation."
"You did? Can I hear it?"
"It's still sort of rough. I don't know if it's any good…" Spike said, his hand slipping from hers.
"So? I've heard songs of yours when they were in progress before." She took his hand again. "I want to know how you were feeling that night, Spike."
Spike gave it some thought for a moment before he stood. "Come on. My guitar's in the other room."
Buffy got up from the table and followed him out of the kitchen, looking around the house as she did. She realized it was probably one of the nicest homes she'd ever been in—and surprisingly clean considering Spike lived there.
"You have maid service, don't you," Buffy comment.
"Bloody hell, yeah," Spike replied. "If I didn't, this place would go all to hell." He stopped at a door and pushed it open. "In here, luv."
Buffy followed Spike in, surveying the room. It was fairly empty, with only a piano and a couple of chairs and a couch, Spike's guitar leaning against the edge. A pad of paper with a pen was tossed beside the couch, and Buffy quickly surmised this must be where he retreated to write.
"Have a seat, kitten," Spike said, gesturing to the couch before he picked up his guitar and sat in one of the chairs.
Buffy sat, her hands folded in her lap. Spike got comfortable in his own seat and took a deep breath. "It's been a while since I've played a new song for anyone like this," he told her. "Usually it's just the band or Dawn. I can trust her to be blunt, plus she's my in with the young people." He winked.
"So you didn't like…write songs for Eve?" Buffy asked.
"Um, no." Spike cleared his throat. "Eve was, well, Eve was an attempt to move on, but not a successful one—obviously. She seemed nice when we met, and it had been a long time since I'd been with a woman who wasn't all star-struck. Almost every woman I met after you just wanted Spike the rock star, and I thought Eve wanted something different." He shook his head. "I guess I'm an idiot."
Buffy reached out and put her hand on his knee. "She played you, Spike. She's an actress, remember?"
"Yeah, but not a very good one," Spike replied. "Did you see her last movie? Utter shite from beginning to end."
"Well, yeah it was," Buffy said with a laugh. "But you wanted to believe her, and that doesn't make you an idiot. You were lonely—of course you wanted to be with someone."
"I never loved her. I never even said the words, even when she said them to me a few times," Spike admitted. "I couldn't. My heart was still yours."
"I know, honey," Buffy replied as she stroked his thigh. "I'm not upset that you dated her. Well, not now that it's over anyway. I was seriously jealous there for a while, but you're mine again, and I don't care one way or another about Eve Hart anymore."
"That makes two of us," Spike muttered.
Buffy patted his leg then pulled back up. "Okay, sing the song. I wanna hear."
Spike took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It was hard now to believe he'd written this song only a week earlier with how much things had changed since then. He really hoped he didn't hate it…
He looked down as he started to strum the guitar, knowing he'd never be able to do this if he was looking right at her. Gathering up his courage, Spike opened his mouth and began to sing.
"I know I shouldn't be calling you so late;
It's kinda hard to talk right now.
Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?
I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud."
Only four lines in, and Buffy already had tears in her eyes. Spike sang with so much emotion, letting her feel the pain he'd felt when he'd written the words.
"Well, my girl's in the next room,
Sometimes I wish she was you;
I guess we never really moved on.
It's really good to hear your voice saying my name,
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel,
Hearing those words, it makes me weak.
Let it die; I should just say goodbye.
But girl, you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an angel."
Listening to him now reminded Buffy of the first time she'd ever heard him sing a song he'd written for her. He'd called her an angel then, too—was that what she was to him? Even now, after the way she'd broken his heart?
"I shouldn't be calling you tonight,
But I had a dream of you again.
And does he know you're talking to me?
Will it start a fight?
No, I don't think she has a clue."
Looking back, Buffy didn't know she ever could've thought she could build something with Robin. She'd never felt even a fraction of what she felt now for Spike for Robin. Spike touched her heart in ways no man ever could, even her own Angel… She could admit that now without the guilt it once would've caused her, could accept that despite the pain she'd suffered from her former lover's death, Spike was the one person she wanted to be with.
On the surface, they'd always seemed like opposites, but Buffy knew in truth, they were two halves of a whole.
"Well, my girl's in the next room,
Sometimes I wish she was you;
I guess we never really moved on.
It's really good to hear your voice saying my name.
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel,
Hearing those words, it makes me weak.
Let it die; I should just say goodbye.
But girl you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an angel."
Spike grew silent, taking a moment before he set his guitar down and looked up, needing to know what Buffy thought. Before he could ask, however, Buffy launched herself into his arms, stopping any questions he had with a kiss.
She pulled away, then began to pepper his face with smaller kisses, each one punctuated with one statement.
"I love you."
His throat constricted, tears in his eyes as Spike lifted Buffy up and carried her back over to the couch, laying them down with his body stretched over hers. He knew they'd been doing this a lot over the past twenty-four hours, but he couldn't seem to find words strong enough to tell her how he felt. He wasn't even sure the words existed…
But when he moved inside of her, their limbs entangled, he could look into her eyes and know she knew.
They fumbled at each other's clothes, Buffy's hands trembling as she pulled at the buttons of his jeans, while Spike struggled to pull the sweatpants off her body without having to move away from her.
When he pushed inside her, they cried out together in relief, everything seeming right again.
Their eyes stayed locked, both green and blue holding a promise among the tears.
They'd never be alone again…
Buffy lay content in Spike's arms, the room around them highlighted by the sunset coming in through the windows. She was sore and tired, yet she welcomed it, as with those feelings came fulfillment, both physical and emotional.
"I don't want to move," Buffy said as she snuggled closer to her lover's bare chest.
Spike kissed the top of her head. "Then don't, pet. I'm certainly not going to throw you out."
"But it's Sunday, which means I've got work in the morning," Buffy replied. "And this house of yours—so not anywhere near the neighborhood of my school."
"Call in sick. As achy as I'm betting you'll be in the morning anyway, it won't really even be lying."
"I shouldn't. I have kids who want to meet with me." She looked up, sighing at the sight of Spike's pout. "Okay, I'm starting to see why you always crumble when I do that."
The pout quickly turned to a grin. "Does that mean you're crumbling?"
She sighed. "I shouldn't…" Immediately, the pout returned, and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll play hooky so I can stay in bed with you."
His pout now back to a smile, Spike hugged her tightly. "You'll be happy you stayed."
Buffy hugged him back, not doubting that for a moment. If it were possible, she'd put reality on hold indefinitely, so this feeling would never end. Since they'd gotten rid of Eve the night before, the world had seemed to narrow to just the two of them, with all of their past troubles and woes forgotten in this haven they'd created.
"You better call the bit, though," Spike said after a moment. "I'm sure she's quick enough to figure out why you didn't come home, but she'll still gripe if you don't give her a call."
"That and she's probably salivating wanting to know what happened," Buffy added. She rolled away from Spike and took the phone off of the receiver.
"It's the first number on speed dial," Spike said.
Buffy glanced over at him. "You know, that first night you called, I actually wondered how you got the number, until I realize you'd have it because of Dawn."
"You didn't change it when I moved out either," Spike pointed out.
"Oh. Right. There is that, too." She stuck her tongue out at him.
Spike leered. "Don't offer unless you plan to follow through, baby."
"Let me make this phone call, and I will," Buffy countered.
"Then by all means, hurry up and call," Spike replied, his eyebrow raising.
Buffy did then, listening to the rings until her sister picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Dawn. It's Buffy."
"Let me guess, you and Spike went at it like rabid bunnies on crack, and you're calling to tell me that you're just staying over there tonight because your legs aren't working?"
"Uh…well, that's one way to put it, I suppose."
"Are you calling in sick to work tomorrow, too?"
"I was thinking I would."
"I'll back you up if you want. Claim you're oozing from various places."
Buffy winced. "I think we can forego any talk of oozing."
"Okay. Well, I don't think I have to ask how things went, since you're obviously back together, but just so you know, I will be having a major squeal-fest as soon as you hang up the phone."
Buffy smirked. "And with as loud as you get, I'll probably be able to hear it, too."
"Ha ha. Well, I'll let you get back to boffing Spike," Dawn said, her tone teasing.
"Shut up."
"Make me." Dawn laughed. "Have fun, Buffy. Oh, and tell Spike he owes me a pony now. Bye!"
Before Buffy could say anything else, the line went dead. She hung up the phone, then looked over at Spike. "Dawn says you owe her a pony. What's that all about?"
Spike sighed. "We had this bet. Bit always said we'd get back together, I said we wouldn't, and she said if we did, I'd have to buy her a pony."
"A pony is so not fitting in my apartment, Spike."
As soon as Buffy said that, the urge to ask her to move in with him pushed to the front of Spike's mind, but he bit his tongue. As happy as the past couple days had been, he still felt he had to tread lightly with Buffy. She'd said forever, but she'd said that before, too. He'd have to be careful until he could figure out exactly where he stood with her this time.
Although if he had his way, they'd already be on a plane to Vegas…
"Never said it had to be a real pony," Spike countered. "They still make those little plastic ones with the freaky eyes and drawings on their arses?"
"My Little Pony?" Buffy asked, her eyebrow cocked.
"Yeah, those bloody things."
She laughed. "I think so."
"Good. I'll buy her one of those." In a flash, his eyes were full of lust again, and Buffy knew thoughts of Dawn had already gone. "Now what was this you said earlier about 'follow through?'"
Buffy grinned before she dove under the covers.
I had only planned to use James's songs in this fic, but then I got an email from BuffyRat (thanks again!) who pointed out that this song seemed to fit the fic well. So, I reworked some of the words and put it in the fic. And to give credit where credit is due, the song is "Lips of an Angel" and the original version is done by Hinder.
Please review!