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Chapter 18


He’d said it first. The thing she’d been wanting to say, the first time he’d kissed her, but hadn’t dared to, because it was too soon. Because she thought it might frighten him away. He’d said he loved her. Had made it easy for her, because now she could say it too. Only she didn’t have to worry about being rejected or having her words flung back at her. He’d taken all the risks by baring his heart first. And she loved him all the more for it.

Spike rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, so that she was draped along the length of him, her head snuggled into the curve of his neck. “I mean it Buffy. Happened kinda quick, the falling in love thing. But it’s the truth.”

“I love you too Spike." It still felt strange saying it, even though she knew it was what he wanted to hear. She meant it with all her heart, but she was scared that it somehow wasn’t coming out right. And she desperately wanted him to know how much she meant it. “I think I’ve loved you since the first time you kissed me. Do you remember that?”

“Hardly likely to forget, pet. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

“Didn’t you feel me falling?” Buffy kept her face tight against his skin.
“If you hadn’t been there to catch me, I’d have shattered into a million pieces.”

“Lucky I was then. I love it when you quote poetry.”

“I just made that up.”

Spike chuckled. “Still poetry, love.” His arms slipped around her waist, hoisting her up. He gazed at her lovingly for a few moments.

"Hey, let’s see what else we can remember about that night. Weren’t you kinda like this?”

She gave a little laugh as he lifted her. “Yeah, but with more clothes on.” She wriggled so that she was in just in the right position. “Are you sure Spike, we only just...”

“Hey, what kind of talk is that? Male pride here. Just keep moving.”

“Like this?” She gave an experimental wriggle and then fell forward in a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry Spike, I’m feeling a bit giddy. Haven’t even had any champagne yet." She raised her head, her face shining. “You just told me you love me. I wanna just run up and down the road shouting it to everyone I meet.”

“Not dressed like that I hope.” Spike sat himself up, grabbing her round the waist to stop her from falling backwards. “Okay, what do you say we get in the tub? Then you can feed me grapes or something?”

Buffy gazed back at him. The man she loved. Who loved her. She hadn’t known till that minute that a heart could be so full of love that it might actually burst. Hers felt like it was going to pop with the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. She pulled him in for a kiss, and poured everything she could into it. So much so, that he broke the kiss and stared at her for a few seconds before crushing his lips back to hers. It just seemed to go on and on, each telling the other, without words, how they felt. A perfect moment of connection.


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Willow picked up her regency novel and arranged herself comfortably on Xander’s couch. She was still breaking out into spontaneous little smirks every time she thought about the love machine. Had anyone seen them? And Xander. She thought he’d never want to speak to her again, but boy had he surprised her. Now he had some contract work to finish, so she was keeping him company. Only he wasn’t getting much done because she kept disturbing him.

“Do you think you’d like to 'lave' me Xander?”

He looked up, interested. “Sounds kind of kinky, what the hell are you reading?”

“Regency.” Willow held the book up. “Not sure what it means though. Do you think he’s licking her?”

“What, is he a dog? Anyway, thought they were all prim and proper in those kind of books.”

“Like us, you mean?”

Xander leaned back on his chair and stretched. "Yeah just like us. Sod this, can’t concentrate. How about I open a bottle of wine?”

Willow closed her book. “Sounds good. Then we can snuggle up in front of your gas fire and talk.”

“Talk?”

“Yeah, talk. I’m a bit sore from all the - you know.”

Xander was over like a shot, kneeling in front of her. “Oh Will, I’m sorry, was I..."

“Calm down Xan. Just overdid it a bit, that’s all. How many times was it?”

“Umm, quite a few. I just can’t keep my hands off you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I hope you’re not just after me for my body.”

“Can you cook?” Xander ducked as a cushion came sailing his way. “I’ll go get the wine.” He re-appeared a few moments later with a bottle and two glasses. “Here we go, now what did you want to talk about?”

Willow thought for a moment. “Tell me about you and Spike. You grew up together didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Xander sat next to her and pulled her against him. “We were mortal enemies, then best mates, and today...well that’s water under the bridge, I hope.”

“So, how did you meet?”

Xander’s face took on a nostalgic look. “Eight years old. He was the skinniest, ponciest looking kid I’d ever seen, so of course I had to beat him up.”

Willow looked shocked. “Why?”

“Because I could, I suppose. I was the big, tough, he-man type. What are you laughing at? And he was a real mummy’s boy. His dad was away a lot of the time, so I guess him and his mum were really close. Used to just stand there and cry. Never even hit me back.”

“You were a bully?”

“Guess I was, only I didn’t realise it at the time. Just thought it was a bit of fun.”

“Then how did you get to be friends?” Willow traced small patterns on the front of Xander’s tee-shirt. She wasn’t sure she was liking this story.

“Year or so later, he was away for a couple of weeks, then when he came back he was different. Started hitting back, big time. Anyone went near him, he’d just go berserk. Then I found out his mum had died, suddenly. Brain haemorrhage or something. Got a headache one day, they took her to the hospital and she collapsed and died in the waiting room. Spike was there when it happened, he's got this real phobia about hospitals now. Won't go near them.

“That's so sad, but what made you become friends? You didn’t keep bullying him after that did you?

“Of course not. Big gang of kids were out to get him one day. I figured he needed some help. Been best friends ever since.”

“So, your friendship was based on fighting?”

“Pretty much. But bloody hell, together we were invincible. Then his dad went abroad and he got sent off to boarding school. Met up again when we started at university."

Willow was liking the story a lot better now. She really hadn't liked the thought of Xander being a bully. "So when did you start up with the computer thing?"

Xander reached for the wine bottle and re-filled both glasses. "Here. Couple of years back. 'Course, he had to go and do bloody poetry instead of computing. Still, we're doing okay. You wouldn't think it to look at Spike's place though. Lives in a right dump. Likes to think of himself as an artist or something."

"What, it's worse than this?" Willow clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she'd said it. "On no Xander, I didn't mean..."

Xander chuckled. "It's alright love, yes it is worse than this. Saving up our profits for when he finishes his PhD, then we're really going to hit the big time."

Willow gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Sounds like you've got plans. That's nice. I wish I knew what I was doing next year."

They both lapsed into silence. Each thinking that as things stood, they would both be in different countries next year. Willow didn't want to think about that now.

"So, what's the deal with Dru? Do you think she'll back off now?"

Xander gave a deep sigh. "God Will, she doesn't give up. Always had her sights on Spike, right since we were kids. He's my best friend, she's my sister. And I'm bloody stuck in between. It ain't gonna end well."

She didn't know what to say. Poor Xander was stuck between the devil and the deep, blue sea. She raised her head and pulled him in for a kiss, trying to give him the comfort she hadn't been able to that afternoon. He returned it enthusiastically, but made no further demands on her, obviously remembering what she'd said earlier. It was nice just being with him, like this. Enjoyable as it was, she didn't want a relationship based just on sex, which up to now was really all it had been. She didn't know if she had any kind of future with him at all. There was no denying that she had to go home at the end of the year. She pulled him down for another, slightly more desperate kiss. The time was just going to go faster and faster, until the day when she’d be kissing him goodbye at the airport. They’d talk about staying in touch, but nobody ever did, did they?

She couldn’t stop the tears coming as she kissed him. He pulled back, surprised, wiping at them with his thumbs. Not saying anything, but looking deep into her eyes as if searching for something. Then he pulled her close and stroked her hair, as they both stared into the flickering flames of the gas fire. Neither saying anything, but each knowing what the other was thinking.


-----------------------------------------


Buffy hit the mall as soon as lectures were over on Thursday. She didn’t like leaving her field - trip shopping this late, but she’d spent so much time with Spike that she’d started to fall behind with her assignments, so she’d had to spend every spare moment on Tuesday and Wednesday in the library, frantically catching up. They’d spent every night together, though. It already seemed natural to, and she missed him like crazy when he wasn’t there. Wondered how she was going to get through a weekend of separate bedrooms and sneaking around. Perhaps they wouldn’t get any time together at all.

She tried to stop thinking about Spike for five minutes, and concentrate instead on the array of waterproof coats and hi tech walking boots in front of her. Did she want a breathable membrane? Gore Tex? In the end she gave up and did what she usually did. Just bought the most expensive item of everything she needed. By the time she’d finished, she was laden with bags and sorely in need of coffee, so she treated herself to a cappuccino and an enormous cream cake, and sat herself in the window of the small coffee shop.

She used to think that shopping was the biggest thrill of all, but now, of course, she knew that it wasn’t. Thinking about Spike made her smile again. She was turning into a grinning idiot. Had one plastered on her face most of the time now. She’d met Willow yesterday and they’d done nothing but smirk and giggle at each other. She sipped at her coffee, feeling very pleased with herself, happy with life. Everything was just wonderful.

She watched the people going by, the old, the young, moms with babies in strollers. Wondered if she’d ever be pushing one of those. Noticed the rowdy bunch of teenagers outside the record shop. Doing what teenagers did, messing about, being loud, pushing each other. She didn’t notice who was at the heart of the group. Someone who didn’t want to be seen, but who’d definitely seen her.

-----------------------------


“It’s her.”

“Who is?” The lanky, greasy-haired youth looked up.

“Over there, in the window.” His companion poked him in the ribs.

“Ow, watch it Dru, you've got wicked nails.”

“Serves you right for not listening. It’s that bitch who stole my Spike away from me.”

“Oh yeah." One of the other lads looked up. “Which one is she?”

“The blonde. All big hair and American teeth. Told me to keep away from him, all high and mighty like. I’ll show her who’s in charge.”

One of the group let out an appreciative whistle. “Hey, she’s hot, man, wouldn’t mind getting up her skirt.”

Dru whopped him across the head. “We've got to teach her a lesson you prat. Thinks she’s pretty. Well she won’t be when we’ve finished with her.”

The lad held up his hands. “No way Dru, I ain't beating up on no girl. Scare her a bit, yeah, or maybe we could nick her purse. All Americans are rich, aren’t they?”

Her other companion nodded. “You’re bloody scary sometimes Dru. I’m with Jake, let’s just nick her purse, and then we can go see Johnny.”

Dru was staring across at the coffee shop window. “Got a better idea. You with me lads?”

“What you thinking Dru?”

“I’m thinking she’s got to have a car. Americans drive everywhere, right? Who fancies a joyride?”

Jake gave a loud whoop, drawing disapproving stares from the shoppers around them.

“Quiet you moron, she’ll see me. Don’t want her to do that. She’s up. We follow her, you grab the car, then meet me by the west door.” She rubbed her hands together. “Thought you’d got one over on me, Buffy Summers. Didn’t you know that nobody does that?”

The greasy-haired youth let out a snigger. “You’re mad, Dru, fucking mad.”

Dru put her arm around his shoulder and leaned in very close to his ear. “Yeah, but it turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Fucking right it does.” He grabbed her and tried to kiss her but she skipped out of his reach. “Aww, come on Dru. Don't I get a reward for this?”

“Maybe. Quick she’s up. Let’s see what kind of wheels she’s got.”


----------------------------


Buffy looked at her watch and felt in her pocket. She dropped a pound coin on the table, wondering if it was enough for the tip, and gathered her bags. Time to get back. More work to do, then packing, then Spike was coming around for a meal. Nothing fancy, except that she’d been to the most expensive delicatessen in town and stocked up on all sorts of goodies. And not knowing what he liked, she’d bought virtually one of everything in the shop. Still, that essay needed finishing first. She groped for her keys as she approached the car park, only vaguely aware of the two youths following her.

She didn’t even see their faces. One minute she was making her way towards her car, happily planning her gourmet meal with Spike, the next she was lying on the hard concrete of the car park, her packages strewn around her, watching her beautiful car disappearing in a roar of exhaust fumes. Her hand came away wet with blood when she touched her face, but she paid it no attention. All she could think about was that she’d failed. She’d told her dad she’d be safe. That nothing was going to happen to her, all alone in a foreign country. And yet again he’d be able to say I told you so. He was right, and she was wrong. She’d completely blown it.

She heard someone calling for security as she struggled to get up, but her legs were suddenly made of rubber and wouldn’t hold her.

“Are you alright love? Let’s get you inside shall we?”

A kind voice was talking to her, but she couldn’t make out the face that went with it through her tears. She felt totally and utterly pathetic. Might as well have just handed them the keys on a plate. Like taking candy from a baby. Someone pressed a tissue to her cheek, helped her up and shepherded her back into the mall. The manager was summoned, the police called and amidst it all, Buffy sat in a daze, waiting for Spike to arrive and wondering just how the hell she was going to break this news to her dad.


----------------------------


Spike nearly broke the land speed record getting to the mall. That bloody car. It had made her a target. Should have insisted she get rid of it straight away. And they said she’d been hurt. He tried to calm himself down as he negotiated the parking space. He wanted to beat them to within an inch of their lives. They’d hurt her. Why didn’t they just take the bloody car? Why did they have to hurt her? He ran into the mall, grabbed a security guard and demanded to know where the manager’s office was. Struggled to get a grip on himself as the guard eyed him suspiciously.

“Buffy Summers, American, she’s had her car stolen.” Didn’t he realise how urgent this was?

The guard nodded in understanding. “Yes, about 15 minutes ago, are you her husband?”

“No, boyfriend, where is she?”

The guard grabbed hold of Spike’s arm, obviously still a little suspicious of his agitated appearance, and led him to the manager’s office.

Spike didn’t blame him. If the car thieves had still been around, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. He’d alarmed quite a few people with his mad dash across the mall, and you couldn’t be too careful these days. He tried to steady his breathing, he was no use to Buffy in this state.

The guard let go of his arm, and pushed the door to the manager’s office open.

“The boyfriend’s here.”

The room seemed to be full of people. A policewoman taking a statement, the witness, the mall-manager. Spike didn’t see any of them. All he saw was Buffy, sitting there, looking very small, her cheek bandaged, he hands clasped in her lap. He flew across the room and grabbed her, felt her arms go around him and hold on tight. Felt her sobs as she started crying. She needed to go home now, the hell with this. He turned to the policewoman.

“I need to get her home.” Buffy was still clinging to him, weeping silently. She hadn’t said anything. Had just groped for him, blindly, and she was holding on as if he’d disappear if she let go.

The policewoman nodded, checking over her notes. “We’ll have to put out an alert at all the major ports. Car like that could be out of the country within hours. Probably stolen to order.” She showed Spike her notebook. “Is this Miss Summer’s address and phone number?"

Spike nodded.

“Then take her home, we may be in touch later today. Will someone be home?”

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Spike squatted down in front of Buffy. She must know he was there, but she didn’t seem to be seeing him. “Buffy, love. Shall we go home?” He fought against the rising anger as he looked at the gash on her cheek. This was the last thing Buffy needed, desperate as she was to prove that she could be independent. Could look after herself. England was a much less violent place than America, he reckoned. She should have felt safe here. He pulled her up gently and accepted her bags from the mall-manager. At least they hadn’t got her purse. Just that damned car.

-----------------------------

Buffy felt a strong arm around her shoulders. Someone pulling her up. She’d held herself together pretty well during the walk back to the mall, during the questioning, but now that Spike was here, she just let it all go. Felt herself falling to pieces. Knew she could because he’d pick them all up for her. All she was aware of as they walked back to his car was him. Spike was her lifeline and she wasn’t letting go the death-grip she had on his arm.

“Buffy, sweetheart.”

She felt gentle fingers prying hers off.

“Let go, so I can drive us home.”

Then she felt her seat belt closing, the car door slamming. A moment of panic as he disappeared. Relief as he got in the driver’s side. She reached for him again, and he pulled her over to him. It wasn’t very comfortable with the gear stick between them, but she didn’t want to be apart from him for a second. Right now she needed his strength, because she had none of her own. The thieves had taken a lot more than her car. They’d taken her dignity, her pride, her independence. They’d made her weak. An hour ago, life had been perfect. Now it wasn’t. It was this.

She felt Spike’s fingers gently tracing around the bandage. Wondered what she looked like. Didn’t dare look in the car mirror. Would she have a scar, like him? Would he find it ugly? She raised her head, and for the first time since he’d arrived she really saw him. He looked angry as he fingered the bandage. Tried for a smile when he saw her looking. Failed miserably. Then she found herself half-smiling up at him, realising that he needed reassurance that she was okay, and that only she could give it to him. And that made her feel a little better. The shock started to subside and a little bit of the strength returned.

“I’m okay Spike.” She squeezed his arm as she settled back into the seat. “Just take me home.”

-------------------------------


Spike started up the car. She was looking a little better. Not quite as pale as she’d been when he’d first seen her. And that was a sight he never wanted to see again. His heartbeat was only just returning to normal from the shock of it all. God knows how she must be feeling. He managed a bit of a reassuring smile back to her and turned the car for home. Neither of them said anything. All they needed was for the other to be there.

When they got home, he settled her down on the couch. Found a throw in the lounge and wrapped it around her. Made them both a cup of tea and then cuddled up with her.

“You really okay, Buff?”

“No, not really.” Her fingers were tracing a pattern on his thigh. “My dad’s gonna kill me.”

“I can’t believe that. Cars get nicked, Buff, especially expensive sports cars. It wasn’t your fault. Anyway, insurance will cover it.”

“It’s not the money, Spike.” Her voice started to break again. “He told me this would happen. Told me I wouldn’t be able to look after myself. And he was right.”

“No he wasn’t.” Spike suddenly felt unreasonably angry with Buffy’s dad. He hadn’t even met the man, but how dare he undermine Buffy’s confidence in this way.

“You’ve done great since you’ve been here. You run this house, you’re doing really well with the course. You’re a wonderful capable woman, probably the most determined one I’ve ever met, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. And you’ve got me. I’ll always be here for you, love.”

“I’ve got to call him. Let him know what happened.”

“Leave it till tomorrow, pet. Wait till the shock’s worn off.” There was no way she should do this now. Too much emotional baggage as it was, by the sound of things, without the additional trauma of telling him about the car.

“No, he’d expect me to tell him right away. She leaned back against him and was quiet for a while, as if gathering up her courage.

"Spike. Would you..." She took a deep breath and tried again. "Would you make love to me first?"

Surely she didn’t mean that. It wasn’t the first thing that had sprung to his mind. Thought she’d need holding, words of comfort. Never thought she’d ask for that. And he wasn’t sure he was up to it. He was still shaking inside from the shock of that phone call. Then seeing her...

“Please Spike. It’s what I need, right now. I need to know that you love me.”

“You know I love you Buffy. Haven’t I told you about a hundred times in the last few days? And it's not just about the sex. I said I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oh Spike, I didn't mean it was just about sex, please don't think that. This is coming out all wrong. You said I should tell you what I want, what I need. Well, right now it's this. I want to phone him while I’m lying in bed naked with you. I want the memory of that sound you make when you come, fresh in my mind when I talk to him. I want to speak to him as a woman who has a life of her own, and a man who loves her. I don’t want to be his little girl any more. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of." He was beginning to understand where she was coming from. She needed to feel in control when she phoned her dad. It was the only way she was going to get through it. "If it's what you need, Buffy, but I don't need an excuse to make love to you, or any reason other than we both want to. You've got more courage inside you than you give yourself credit for. Do it because you want to, not because you have to."

She didn't answer him. And he realised why. God, what a prat he was. She didn't need that lecture right now. Not after everything she'd been through today. She needed his strength, not his bloody sermons.

He stood up and scooped her into his arms, and carried her effortlessly to the bedroom. They undressed each other in silence. The looks they were giving each other were more than enough to convey what they were feeling. And, far from not being up to it, one touch of her hand nearly had him coming there and then.

As he lay down on the bed and pulled her over him he thought that she had never looked so magnificent. His mind flashed back to the first time he’d imagined this scene. That night she’d fixed his head. Now it was happening for real, and it was every bit as good as he’d thought it would be. And he had a good imagination.

Even with her face bandaged up, she looked beautiful. Rising and falling above him. Leaning down to let her hair sweep across his chest, because she knew he liked that. Getting him to make those noises she wanted to remember when she made that phone call.

And she wasn’t holding back either. He heard her say his name over and over as she let herself go. Taking him with her, because right now he was her slave and he had no choice but to follow her.

And then she was making the phone call. Punching in the number. And he slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. Acknowledging her nod of understanding, he grabbed his shoes and tee shirt and left her to do it by herself. He’d given her what she said she needed. Only she already had it inside her. Just didn't know it. She didn't need him to hold her hand, while she did this. If he stayed, she'd never learn that. It did sound like a sermon, and he felt a bit of a coward for leaving. But he hoped she'd understand. She needed him there because she wanted him. Not just because she wanted to prove something to her dad.

He went downstairs, and let himself out of the front door. His cigarettes were in the car, and he needed one badly right now. The side gate was unlocked, so he walked round and sat down on one of the garden benches adorning her perfectly manicured garden. She was going to need to change the security codes on the garage door, at least, he thought. They’d have no trouble tracing where she lived from her registration number, and the electronic opener was probably still in the car.

He wondered who they were. Professional car thieves, or opportunistic joy-riders? He hoped it was the second. If professionals were involved, they’d probably had the car staked out for weeks, waiting for the right time. Probably been following her around, knew where she lived. It was a scary thought. Didn’t do to bring yourself to the attention of those sorts.

He was on his second cigarette when she came out. Wearing his sweatshirt, the sleeves pulled down over her hands. Her body language told him all he needed to know. He threw the cigarette down and crushed it underfoot. Rose to meet her.

She just stood there, looking so much like a little girl. Hugging her arms around herself.

“How did it go?” He didn’t really need to ask. She opened her mouth to speak. Closed it again, shut her eyes. And when she opened them, she said the words he’d been dreading to hear.

“He says I’ve got to come home.”





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