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Chapter 4


Spike had always know that when he fell it would be hard and fast and there would be no going back. That's why he'd never allowed himself to fall in love.

Before now.

As he stared at the woman who seemed to have occupied every one of his waking thoughts for the last week, he had to wonder at the crappy timing of it all. Raids were becoming more frequent, he was flying longer hours, and the chances of surviving all this were getting slimmer and slimmer by the day. He was good at what he did, but that didn't mean anything these days. You took a chance every time you went up, said your goodbyes, kept your affairs in order and if you came back - well that was a bonus.

And it really hadn't worried him, until now. He'd bloody well gone and kissed her, she'd kissed him back, and suddenly, that was that. His fate was sealed and his future irrevocably tied to Buffy Summers. A future he suddenly and quite desperately wanted back.

"So, what do we do now?"

She looked at him, eyes wide, still a little dazed from the kiss. He hadn't given her time to think or change her mind about it. Before she'd drawn breath he'd had her in the Land Rover he'd borrowed, and they were bumping along a country road. Not exactly kidnapping her, because she hadn't exactly resisted. More like a seize the moment manoeuvre, Carpe Diem and all that. And he'd had no idea where they were going, until he'd seen the little tea shop in the village and pulled up outside it.

And here they were, ordering tea and cakes and what with that, and the poetry, he had to wonder if William was going to make a surprise appearance any moment now. This was just up his street, all he needed was the hair and the tweed jacket and voila, there he'd be.

Spike lit up a cigarette, took a long drag, knocked the ash into the ashtray and looked straight back at her.

"Well, you could marry me."

Buffy gave a sort of strangled gasp, which turned into a small laugh, then she covered her face with her hands. After a few seconds she lowered them slowly, her eyes even wider, her mouth open. "What did you say?"

"I said you could marry me."

He hadn't been going to kiss her, and he definitely hadn't been going to say that. But now he'd said it, it seemed the most logical thing in the world to say. Because where the hell else did they go after that kiss?

And he could see that she was thinking it too. Just for a split second it was a distinct possibility, so he just kept talking, because Spike never could keep his mouth shut.

"What do you say" He stretched his hand out and caught hers across the table. "Let's just do it, Buffy."

"But I hardly know you."

She was struggling now, the voice of reason intruding, but he knew how this worked. She made excuses, he gave her reasons. She said convince me, so he would.

He let go of her hand, once he'd satisfied himself that he hadn't shocked her into running away, and sat back as the waitress served their tea and placed one of those two tier plates full of cakes on the table. She smiled genially at them, asked them if they wanted anything else, then she left.

"My name is William Giles, otherwise known as Spike. I was born in the East End of London. I was up at Oxford doing a PhD in English Lit when the war started, so I joined up. I'm a bloody good pilot and I'm in love with you." He leaned his elbows on the table and took her hand again.

The more he thought about this, the more he wanted it. The more he looked at her, the more he wanted her. They both did. William the romantic and Spike the crazy. William was already picturing the cottage with the roses around the door, Buffy in a white dress, sitting on a rug in the garden while he lay, his head in her lap, reading her his favourite poetry. Spike had skipped that bit and gone straight to the hot, steamy sex. Well, he would wouldn't he?

And she'd closed her eyes, as if she was still trying to think of an excuse not to do this, so he squeezed her hand to remind her he was still there.

"It's not such a daft idea. You know, when you think about it."

She picked up a strange looking cake and eyed it suspiciously.

"Will I like it?"

Spike took it from her and placed it back on the stand. "You're going to love it. We can get married quarters or something, all cosy like. And every time I look up, there you'll be, and every time you look up, there I'll be."

"What?"

"Thomas Hardy, Far From the Madding Crowd. It's that git, William, just doesn't know when to shut up. Tea?"

She shook her head and laughed again as he poured the tea, and pushed the cup across the table.

"Spike…"

"D'you want someone else to kiss you like that? 'Cos no one else ever will, you already know that, don't you?"

"I know." Her voice was barely there as she stared into her cup and stirred the tea around. "But I still don't know who you are."

"I just told you."

"No you didn't. You told me what you are. Now tell me who you are."

"Then will you marry me?"

"Spike!"

"Alright, alright." He raised his hands in surrender, "You are one strict lady Buffy, er, I like it by the way." He sat back and wondered what he could say to convince her that he actually wasn't a lunatic and that he meant every word he'd said, crazy as it sounded.

Okay, William, I think this one's yours.


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Buffy was having trouble keeping up with him, and dammit, but this marriage thing was actually starting to sound good. He'd make one hell of a salesman.

It was when he'd said married quarters. She'd got a picture of the two of them snuggled up on the sofa, talking or reading, or just plain snuggling and she'd realised then what was missing from her life. She did her job, went home, drank her cocoa. Went to the opera with Liam.

Oh God, Liam. No don't think about him now, it's too much. But her life was downright boring. Empty. Nice as Liam was, she knew now what was missing.

Passion.

What would she rather have? Spike cuddles on the sofa, intimate talk in the dark as they held each other. Him making her laugh with his daft comments, her silencing him with a kiss. Tickling him, him tickling her. Spike making love to her, on the sofa, in their bed, and probably other places too, knowing him. The two of them living every moment, treasuring every second they spent together. Doing it all, saying it all, just because they couldn't afford to leave anything unsaid, or undone.

Or a box at the opera, country house parties. Polite conversation. Kissing someone but thinking of someone else, making love and wishing it was him instead. Of long years wondering what she'd missed because she'd taken the sensible path, because she hadn't grabbed at life when it had run out to meet her.

And she couldn't imagine for one moment ever tickling Liam. He'd probably laugh politely, just to humour her, but she just knew that with Spike the two of them would be in hysterics within a minute, probably rolling around on the floor, laughing until they cried. She didn't do much of that, she realised. In fact she didn't do any of that. And she probably never would with Liam.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, because Spike looked as if he had something important to say. And there it was again - that dizzying current of excitement that she'd felt just before he'd kissed her. She put down her cup, carefully, because her fingers were shaking now, and gave him all of her attention. Watching his hand as he stubbed out the cigarette, the way he closed his eyes as he composed himself, the intensity of his gaze when he finally looked at her again, the honesty, the love.

She'd thought the next few moments were going to be the most important of her life, that everything would hinge on what he said next, but as she looked at him while he searched for the right words, she realised that it had already happened. Somewhere along the line she'd already fallen in love with him, only she couldn't remember where, or when. But she knew why.

Brash, noisy, Spike Giles, who had stormed into her life like a bloody hurricane, had crept into her heart so quietly and so softly that she hadn't even noticed it. And she knew he was never going to leave. And that she'd never want him to.

She reached across for him this time, her fingers lightly grazing his, her eyes telling him that he didn't have to say anything because she'd already made her decision. And she couldn't remember much of the poem he'd sent her, but two lines had stuck in her mind.

'The grave's a fine and private place, but none I think, do there embrace.'

They could have been written for them. Time's winged chariot really was at their backs, and he wasn't going to slow down, for them or for anyone, all they could do was hop on board and enjoy the ride.

Buffy placed a finger on her lips as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Shh. Let me go first," she told him, as she reached for one of the cakes and peeled off the silver wrapping. She flattened and folded it as he watched her, his head cocked to one side, eyes narrowed as he tried to work out what she was doing. Then she wrapped it around the ring finger of her left hand and held it up.

"Does it suit me?"

His first reaction was one of utter disbelief. She saw it in the way his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the way someone looks when they were never in a million years expecting the reaction they were getting. And for a moment Buffy thought she'd totally misinterpreted what he'd said and that all this was just wishful thinking on her part.

But then his mouth curved into a smile, and her heart did a happy dance.

"Are you saying…?"

"Yes, Spike, I am, you do still want to?"

"Hell, yes." He stood up suddenly, as if he was going to burst into song, or something, but then he seemed to realise where he was and ran a hand through his hair, sitting down sheepishly to the curious stares of the other diners.

"Sorry about that. I can't believe what you just said. You'll really marry me?"

"Yes."

"And this isn't a dream? 'Cos I have these dreams…"

"No, Spike, this isn't a dream. I don't know when I fell in love with you, I just know that I did. And that we have to do this now."

He nodded as she said the words, his face turning serious again. "D'you know how many weddings I've been to since this war started? People are getting married in droves. Never thought it would be me though. God, I love you Summers, come 'ere."

She could just about reach him as he leaned across the table. He put his hand out to steady the back of her head as he kissed her, starting slow and building up, until the waitress came over and politely suggested that they take it outside.

She remembered the fit of giggles she'd had as he'd dropped a handful of pennies onto the table and pulled her out of her seat. The way he'd pushed her up against the wall the moment they'd got outside and kissed her again. How he'd told her he'd always be there for her and that he'd never leave her, no matter what happened.

She remembered how they'd driven back to the base in silence, each of them glancing at the other every now and then, almost shyly, until he'd put his hand out and covered hers and she'd felt as if her heart was going to burst right there and then.

She remembered the shock of hearing the siren as they neared the airfield and found it under attack. How they'd both just gone and done their duty. He'd dropped her off at the hospital, and with one last kiss he was driving away.

And she remembered thinking that that might be the last time she ever saw him, and that if he didn't come back then she'd want to die right there alongside him, because how could she live without him?

She remembered. She remembered it all.


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


Langdon Airbase 2003

"You married him?"

Buffy smiled at the memory. "Your grandfather had a fit when I told him. Wasn't exactly what he had in mind for me. Maybe I should have invited him to the wedding after all? Who knows? Spike's mum was very sweet about it though. I liked Anne."

"Aunty Anne? So that's who she was."

William blew out a long breath as he contemplated his utterly amazing mother. How on earth had she kept this a secret all these years?

"But you'd only known him a week."

Buffy laughed at that and shook her head. "I'd heard stranger than that by the end of the war." She turned to him, her eyes shining and he couldn't tell if the tears were happy or sad. He guessed a mixture of both and fished out a hankie for her.

"Here."

He watched as she dabbed at her eyes and carefully refolded it.

"Thank you William. I just knew, you know? And it's not something you can explain, or rationalise." She turned to him then and looked at him fondly. "Do you remember how you were when you first met Dru? Well, imagine that every time you say good bye, it could be the last you time you see her, every kiss, every touch, it all means so much more when the future is on the line. Concentrates the mind like nothing else."

"But what about Liam? What did you tell him?"

She was quiet for a long moment. "That was hard. I think he thought… well, as I said, it was hard, he didn't deserve it. I think that's part of the reason I married him. I felt I owed him. Does that sound awful?"

"When did you tell him?"

"The same day. There was no point in waiting, I wasn't going to change my mind. He took it so calmly, but I could see how much I'd hurt him. It was a bad raid, and we lost a lot of planes that day, lots of casualties on the ground. There wasn't time to talk."

"But he waited for you didn't he?"

"He did. You know, I was so angry with him at first. It was like he'd just been biding his time, waiting for Spike to die so he could step in. But no," She placed her hand on William's arm as he opened his mouth in shock. "It wasn't like that. I just needed someone to take it out on, and he was so patient with me."

"He loved us, mum."

"I know. I know, and I did love him, in a way."

"But not like Spike?"

"No. son. Not like Spike. Never like Spike."


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Town Hall, Langdon, July 1940

Buffy blinked as she walked out of the Town Hall into the bright sunlight. She stared at the people walking by, pushing past her as they walked through the doorway. So many people, going about their lives, each with a story to tell.

Nobody noticed them as they walked arm in arm down the steps onto the pavement. A few turned and smiled as Spike picked her up and whirled her round, making her shriek with delight.

But no one knew. Not really.

All they saw was yet another couple coming out of the Registry Office. Two young people in love starting out on their married life. They might have seen the hope and expectation on their faces as they contemplated their futures together, the excitement of getting married in wartime, as so many were doing. But no one saw how much she really loved this man that she'd know for such a short time. No one could possibly see that if she loved him for the rest of her life, it wouldn't be enough.

She laughed out loud and caught her breath as he set her down, kissed the best man as he excused himself because he had to get back to the base. Watched Spike shake his friend's hand as he turned to go, and then it was just the two of them. Alone in the crowd.

She looked up at Spike who was standing with the sun at his back, his hair shining like a halo, a huge grin on his face as he reached out and caressed her face.

"So, how does it feel?"

Buffy leaned into his hand, covering it with her own., and then caught hold of it and brought it to her lips, kissing his fingertips, one after the other, because she already knew he liked that.

"Weird, wonderful, I mean, Buffy Giles. It sounds strange."

She lifted her left hand and inspected the ring. "Mrs. Buffy Giles…Oh Spike."

"Heck, you're not going to start crying again are you?" He fished a large hankie out of his uniform pocket and handed it to her, watching her fondly as she blew her nose.

"Never seen anyone cry so much at a wedding. Especially their own."

"I always cry at weddings, and I can't believe we just did that. My dad's going to kill me."

"You're not regretting it are you?"

"No way, come here. I've missed you so much."

"Well, I've been busy fighting a war, but God, I missed you too. Kept thinking you were going to change your mind."

"Hey, you've got me for life, got the ring to prove it."

She held her hand up once more, squinting at the ring in the sunshine, then looking at him, her husband. A month ago she didn't even know he existed and now he was her husband. The man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, whose bed she was going to share, whose children she was going to have, and all those other things that married people do.

He dipped his head for another kiss and she lost herself in the slow, delicious sensation of his hot mouth covering hers, and suddenly she couldn't wait a moment longer. It had been three weeks. Three weeks of trying to remember his face, reliving that first kiss, snatched conversations on the telephone. Three weeks of wondering what it would feel like when he made love to her. Three weeks to work herself into a frenzy of wanting him so much that she thought that she wasn't going to survive it.

And three weeks of worrying that he wasn't going to come back.

Always worrying, even now that she had him here in her arms, she still couldn't quite believe that he'd made it this far. The battle was heating up, and the odds weren't good, and she needed him to make love to her right now.

But he was leading her across the street, weaving them in and out of the traffic, opening the door of the small photographic studio.

"Gotta get a picture of this. Something to show the kids."

It's funny how things stick in your mind, things that seem inconsequential at the time. Things that are going to mean so much in years to come because they remind you of times you can never have back.

For Buffy it was the bell. The insistent tinkling of the bell over the door as Spike swung it back and forth, trying to attract the attention of the old man, who was perched precariously on a ladder, sorting through boxes on a high shelf.

She remembered how worried she'd been that he was going to fall off, and how Spike and her had both started giggling as the old man had steadfastly ignored them, even when the actual photographer had come in and taken their picture.

Pictures done, they made their way back to the old Land Rover which was about as far from a wedding car as you could get, stopping off to buy flowers from an old gypsy woman on a street corner. She'd taken Buffy's hand and insisted on reading her fortune, and just for a split second Buffy been hit by such a wave of panic that she though she was going to be sick.

She didn't want to know, whatever was going to happen would happen. The future was a far away place and the here and now was the only thing that was real. But the woman had insisted, holding her firmly and scanning her hand, then quietly giving it back to her. The smile had been a bit too bright when she'd told them they would have a long and happy life together, and she'd refused to take any money from them for the flowers. It had spoiled the day a little, and Spike had sensed it as they walked back to their vehicle, drawing her into his arms, and squeezing her tightly as he held her.

"Hey, Mrs.Giles, what's up?"

"Nothing Spike, I'm good."

She slid her arms around him, thinking how wonderful it was to be here doing this with him. Even in the middle of a busy street he had the knack of making her feel that they were the only two people in the world. And when he kissed her she didn't care who looked because as she'd thought before, nobody could see what was really happening.

All they saw was two people kissing. No one saw the way her skin tingled and prickled even before he'd touched her, no one saw how blue his eyes were when you were this close, or the shadows his eyelashes made on his face. No one saw how perfect this all was.

They broke the kiss and Spike opened the door for her, slipping something into her hand as he did so. She looked down at the small, velvet covered box and then at him.

He nodded at her to open it. "A wedding present. It's not much, thought we could get some pictures for it."

She pulled out the locket, threading the silver chain through her fingers as she held it up, tears threatening once more.

"Bloody hell Spike, what are you trying to do to me, where's that handkerchief?"

He handed it to her, bending anxiously to look into her face. "You do like it?"

"God, Spike, I love it. It's perfect, you're perfect. This is just too much."

She turned so he could put it on her, wiping at her eyes and composing herself because she could see that all this crying was starting to worry him. She'd lied earlier when she'd said she always cried at weddings. She never had in her life, before now.

Looking back on her life, she thought that if she had to pick moments that she could define as the happiest, then the two of them standing on that busy street, him fastening the locket around her neck, and teasing her gently about all the tears would have to be one of them. She felt so close to him just then, not just physically but deep inside, he was there, and she knew he always would be.

As he steered the Land Rover into the stream of traffic she noticed the keys on the dashboard, picked them up and turned them in her hand.

"Rented us a cottage, love. Bit of a slum, really, but got it dirt-cheap. Farmer says we can do it up."

"A cottage?"

"Yeah. Don't go thinking it's one of those chocolate box affairs you Americans believe we all live in. There are no roses round the door, but you could plant some if you like. I'll get you a bike, so you can get to the hospital, and I'll have to live at the base while I'm on call, but it'll be ours. And I get to carry you over the threshold. What do you say?"

She almost didn't recognise her voice when she finally answered him. Low and a little husky from all the tears, it reflected just what she was feeling at that moment.

"I'd say, get me there fast, Spike. I really, want you."

"You got me love."

"No, I want you to make love to me. I really, really want you to make love to me."

He'd flashed her a grin then, and put his foot flat down and it was a miracle they'd actually got there in one piece. It was the days before speed cameras and traffic cops on every corner, and the Land Rover, ancient as it was, wasn't even capable of moving very fast, but by the time they got to the cottage, they were both nearly hysterical with laughter.

Spike had leapt out and pulled her into his arms, swinging her high into the air and running up the path with her. She'd fumbled with the key, and then he'd stopped and stepped over the threshold slowly and carefully, letting her slide down his body as he released her, starting a kiss that had lasted until they'd got up the steep, cottage stairs and into the tiny bedroom.

Some one had put fresh linens on the old brass bed, which creaked and groaned as they flopped on to it, laughing again as it wobbled dangerously. And then she was opening the buttons of his uniform, slowly and deliberately, looking him in the eye as she did so. Trying to look sexy. And succeeding, if the look he was giving her was anything to go by.

Spike in a uniform. Every woman's fantasy, but Spike out of a uniform? Well, she was just about to find out. The jacket hit the floor, followed by his shirt and tie, and then it was her turn as his fingers closed over the buttons of her blouse. And she lay back and sighed, because after this, he'd have had everything she had to give, and she'd be well and truly his forever.





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