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Chapter 18


Willow opted to drive back to the apartment since she knew that Buffy was still shook up and William would want to comfort her. Buffy slid into the backseat on shaky legs and placed herself right up against the door. She clicked the lock into place and stared out the window.

William slid in next to her and took her hand. She looked over at him and that was all it took. In an instant she was in his arms. He held her tightly against him, looking as if he were a shield in which to guard her from all the nasties in the world. Willow smiled; for that's just what he was. For so long, Buffy had been Williams shield, and now William got the chance to show her that he could do it for her as well. That he was the man he wanted to be for her. She just hoped Buffy wouldn't shove him away with both hands. Though, from the way she nestled in his embrace, it didn't appear she'd be shoving him away for quite some time.

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"Do you need anything?" Willow asked the couple when they'd all climbed out of the car at the apartment.

Buffy shook her head. "Sorry the festivities ended so early," she mumbled.

"Hush up, pet. Not your fault some creep can't keep his hands to himself," Spike gently
admonished her and kissed her forehead.

She nodded and faced Willow. "Thanks Wills."

"I didn't do anything. If you don't need anything, I think I'm going to shove off."

"We're good," Spike said, "Thanks Wills."

"Would you guys stop with the thanks already? I didn't do anything special." She
smiled broadly and Spike winked at her before turning and guiding Buffy to the stairs.

"Pet? You want some ice cream? Maybe we could watch a movie together?" Spike
asked, as they made their way up the stairs.

"That sounds nice," Buffy agreed on a mumble. "I want to shower first."

"I understand. What do you want to watch?"

"How about ‘Old School'? I could use a laugh."

"Sounds good. I'll get the ice cream ready too. I think we still have some chocolate
syrup in the fridge. You want?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

Spike chuckled, "There's my saucy girl."


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Two hours later, Buffy and Spike sat on the couch in their living room, laughing along
to the movie and having long ago finished their ice cream.

Spike was in heaven as Buffy seemed to crave the comfort of his touch. At the moment,
his back was against the corner of the couch and Buffy sat between his legs while his arms were
wrapped around her protectively. He could still smell the scent of her lightly scented shampoo
and the body wash she'd scrubbed herself with. Every once in a while he took to stealing whiffs
of her hair and would gently bury his nose in it.

As the credits rolled, Buffy turned in his arms and studied him, her expression blank.
Spike kept still, waiting for her to speak.

"I didn't thank you for what you did, did I?" she asked quietly.

"Pet, you don't—"

"Thank you," she cut him off.

He nodded once, briskly, "You're welcome."

And still she stared at him. His hands were itching to caress the side of her face, his lips
were aching to kiss her and his nose was twitching to inhale her scent. What she did next
nearly made him stop breathing.

Adjusting herself so that she kneeled between his legs facing him, she reached out and,
using her pointer finger, trailed a path from the top of his forehead, down the side of his face to
the scar he'd acquired as a child on his brow, down the slope of his nose and up and down his
sharp cheekbones. She traced his lips, and ended at the slope of his neck.

"I never told you before how handsome I always thought you were," she said plainly.

"Pet—"

"You are. I always thought so. Did you know that before you started changing, I
thought you were adorable. I always thought you were cute, but that day when you were
making a grocery list so diligently, I thought how adorable you were. Then later when I saw
you without a shirt on, when I walked in your room and you were on your bed resting, I
thought about what an incredible body you have underneath all those clothes."

Spike's breath hitched.

"You thought I never saw you, that you had to change for me to see you. But I'd already
seen you. I always had, I just didn't . . . and when you were on display for me…" She smiled
small, "You're hot William."

"Buffy," he breathed and entangled his fingers in her hair, bringing her forehead
against his. "Do you know what I thought when I first laid eyes on you?"

She smiled, "That I was dumb because I was a cheerleader and because I was dating
Riley."

"How did you--?"

"You told me."

He closed his eyes. "No, I – I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I'd ever
seen."

"Really?'

"Yes," he whispered, "God yes. It's always been you Buffy, don't you know that by
now?"

"What about Drusilla?"

"I never cared for her that way."

"Have you spoken to her recently?"

"Buffy, I don't want to talk about her right now. Or Riley, or anybody or anything that
isn't in this room."

"Did you want to talk about the movie? It's in the room."

He smiled. "Brat." Then he turned serious. "I want to talk about your lips."

"My lips? What about them?"

"How plump they are," he dipped her head back slightly and, taking a chance that he
had to mentally take a deep breath for, he traced her lips with his tongue lightly. He figured
he'd done well when she whimpered under his touch and her eyes closed, her mouth parting
slightly. "How good they taste," he murmured and covered her lips with his own this time. It
was a slow and sensual kiss, all about exploring and for pushing for anything. He'd let her be
the guide for what touches would be taken and given. He figured after what had happened
after the party, it'd be too soon to get grabby. He wanted Buffy to be completely comfortable
with him in all aspects. He wanted her to accept him and his advances. And, he wanted her to
guide him in the art of lovemaking.

Breaking apart, only for the need to gather breath, Spike watched in fascination as she
licked her lips and slowly opened her eyes. "You taste good too," she told him shyly. Buffy
shy? Since when? It was amazing to him.

He smiled, "Thank you."

"William…will you do something for me if I ask?"

"Christ Buffy, there isn't much I wouldn't do for you, you should know that."

"Will you hold me tonight? Just hold me?" her cheeks reddened and her eyes looked
down.

"Look at me Buffy," he demanded gently.

Her eyes flew to his. "Why are you so shy with me?"

She shrugged. "I've never . . . any of it. . . with you."

"I know what you mean," he whispered. "Bed now kitten?"

She nodded and moved off the couch. Standing she reached out her hand and he took it
in his big one as she helped him up. He followed her to her bedroom, thinking himself the
luckiest bloke in the world. He didn't have to have sex with her. He didn't have to fondle her or
grope her. She didn't even have to fondle or grope him. All he had to do was hold her.



And that was enough.





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