Chapter 16
Spike snuck another sideway glance at Buffy as he pulled the car onto Angel’s road. She was looking out the window, watching the small suburban streets go by. For some reason he couldn’t take his eyes off her this night. The beauty of the woman was emerging from the shell of a girl.
There wasn’t a major difference in her appearance. Her hair was hanging in the usual braid down her back, but tonight she had braided both sides before they dropped into the one long one. She had also raided his closet again. This time borrowing a burgundy silk shirt that one of his exes had given him. She tucked it into a pair of black jeans that were a better fit than most of the ones she wore. The pulling on the material made it conform to her curves outlining the swell of her breasts and teasing him with the merest hint of the lace on her bra. It was all subtle changes, but the confidence she was gaining made her stunning.
“It’s going to be okay,” Spike said, softly as he turned the ignition off. “Cordy already loves you and Angel will, too, just because we do.”
“It’s just been a long day,” Buffy said, obviously trying to explain away her quietness. She reached for his hand. “I’ll be all right.”
“More than all right, pet,” Spike whispered, scooting across the seat. He kissed her, letting his lips drift across hers. “You’re going to do as wonderfully as you usually do.”
“Flatterer,” Buffy said, stroking his chin with her fingertips. She smiled. “I appreciate the kind words though.”
“That and the ice cream, Luv?”
“Always the ice cream,” Buffy managed to say before his lips descended on hers. She opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue dive in to taste her sweetness.
Their afternoon had been spent in an idyllic haze of lovemaking and touches as they prepared for the evening. Buffy’s innate sensuality was satisfying him in ways that he had never been before. In her arms he opened his soul to their lovemaking, letting it take him to new heights.
“Mmmm, I guess we should go in,” Spike said, breaking away from her. He rubbed her nose with his. “I don’t think they invited us over to make out in their driveway.”
“I don’t think so,” Buffy said. She took her first real look at the modest home on a quiet side street. It wasn’t a large house. She would describe it as a starter home but it was big enough for the small family that lived there. “It’s pretty,” Buffy stated as she stepped from the car. “They must be happy here.”
“They are,” Spike said, taking her hand to lead her to the front door.
He crossed the fingers on his other hand hoping that this would go well. He felt as nervous as Buffy must. Angel and Cordelia had become his surrogate parents in so many ways since his father had died. They had filled the gaps when his mother’s illnesses left her unable to cope with a rebelling teenager boy. When his mother had finally passed on herself when he was fifteen, the couple had taken him to live with them in their small apartment. From them he had gotten the love and support he needed to get himself together.
Other than Drusilla, he had never brought any of the women he dated to their home. By accepting Angel’s invitation he had admitted to them and to himself that Buffy was more important than just a casual fling. He still didn’t know where they would end up as a couple, but having everyone get along was important to him.
Taking a deep breath he knocked on the door then squeezed Buffy’s hand. She squeezed back then leaned against him for a moment. The sweet smell of the flower scent she wore wafted over him, comforting and enticing him. In that moment of realizing that she could do that for him with just the merest touch, he finally admitted what he was feeling for her.
He was falling in love with this woman who had more courage than anyone he had ever met. Her strength of will was an inspiration to him. The joy of her arms was heaven and her touch made him feel whole. It took his very breath away. And somehow it just felt right to feel this way.
“Hey, you two,” Cordelia said as she opened the front door wide. She smiled completely unaware of what she had interrupted. “Come on in.”
Spike was disappointed. He wanted to bask in his newly acknowledged feelings just for a moment. But he smiled and played the proper guest. He went to hug and kiss Cordelia like he always did but then remembered this afternoon at the lab. So, while still holding Buffy’s hand, he gave Cordy’s cheek a quick peck.
“Hello,” Spike said. “Where is hubby and child?”
“Playing,” Cordelia said, closing the door behind them. “Hi, Buffy, when I talked to Spike earlier on the phone he said you’ve had quite a day.”
“Hi,” Buffy said, smiling. “It’s been interesting.”
“Did Fred call you with DNA results?” Cordelia asked, leading them into the living room. With a sweep of her arm she indicated for them to take a seat.
“She called,” Spike said, leading Buffy to the loveseat. “But Captain Roberts wanted the results first so we’re to meet in his office tomorrow morning.”
“That’s got to be frustrating,” Angel said from the doorway. Holding his hand was Connor, their four-year-old son.
“Don’t have much choice,” Spike said, holding his arms out for the boy. Connor broke into a grin and ran to him. Gathering Connor onto his lap, Spike turned to Buffy. “Buffy, I’d like you to meet Connor. Connor, this is my friend, Buffy.”
“She your girlfriend,” Connor announced, with a finger pointed at Buffy. “Mommy and Daddy were talking about her.”
Spike could almost feel Buffy shrink back into the cushions. He cast an irritated look at his cousin and wife. He wasn’t sure if it was for making Buffy uncomfortable or talking about her in the first place. His protective side was roaring its head in case they had banded against Buffy.
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend,” Spike agreed, reaching for Buffy’s hand. “I hope your parents were only saying good things.”
Connor gave an enthusiastic nod and patted Buffy’s hand being held in Spike’s. “Mommy says Buffy pretty and she makes you smile.”
“Hey, didn’t like the implication there,” Cordelia said, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Spike. She slipped an arm around Spike, laying her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Spike, you should know me enough to know that if I had a problem with anything I would tell you to your face. I’ve certainly done it enough times.”
“Same here,” Angel said, sitting on the couch opposite of them. “Hi, Buffy, I’m Angel.” He held his hand out over the coffee table to shake hers. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And it was all good, I promise.”
“Hello,” Buffy whispered. She tentatively put her hand in Angel’s, allowing him to shake it. “I appreciate you all inviting me over.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment as they realized they weren’t sure why Buffy was there other than for Angel to check her out. They had only been there for a few minutes and there had already been one misunderstanding. Buffy’s hand was trembling in his, Connor was chattering about his day at pre-school, and the adults were quiet.
Spike knew he had to do something before the situation totally disintegrated. His mind was running in fifty directions trying to find something when Buffy surprised him.
“Cordelia said you were in security,” Buffy asked, directing her question at Angel. “What exactly do you do?”
Her hand was sweating and trembling even more now that she had spoken. He squeezed it, stroking it with his thumb. Pride swelled his chest as Angel started to answer her question. He knew it was going to be okay. A few minutes later they moved into the kitchen where Cordelia served them dinner. Angel was still explaining his company while Spike and Cordy rolled their eyes behind his back. Once he got started he could discuss the finer points of home alarms and body guards for hours. But what mattered was that Buffy was fitting in with the most important people in Spike’s life.
~~~~~~~
By the time Buffy excused herself to use the restroom she felt ready to explode. She hurried off in the direction that she had been given barely taking the time to notice the surroundings. It was on the way back to the kitchen that she stopped to look at the family pictures that hung on the wall in the hallway.
They told a story of a happy family filled with achievements and togetherness. There were pictures that told of Angel and Cordelia’s relationship from the beginning to the birth of their son then family portraits of his progression. A photo hung of a younger Spike standing with an older man and woman. His parents? She gazed hungrily at the ones of Spike. Of the little boy he was playing on a playground with his cousin Angel. There were pictures of them all as they graduated from high school, college or the police academy.
“I see you got caught on our bragging wall,” Angel said, leaning against the opposite wall. A hand gestured toward the photos. “All of our shining moments in one place.”
“You seem to be a happy family,” Buffy said. “Exactly what a perfect family should be.”
“Don’t do that to us. We are far from perfect.”
Buffy looked down, letting her gaze sweep over herself in a critical assessment of her looks and life. Why was it only when she was in Spike’s arms did she feel that she was okay? Was it just an illusion? Did she feel that his perfection rubbed off on her and she could bask for a moment in the normalness of his life?
“Buffy, we’re not perfect,” Angel said, coming to her side. He tilted her chin up to look at him. “The pictures only tell the story of the good times. The moments that we’ve achieved in spite of the bad times we’ve gone through. Don’t think you’re not good enough for us.”
“How can you say that?” Buffy said. “I’m just a kid who only got through high school because a tutor came to my house two days a week. I’ve got this past that…”
“Spike never told you, did he?” Angel said, interrupting her tirade.
She shook her head.
“Damn him,” Angels said, with a sigh. He took her hand, only raising an eyebrow when she tried to pull it back. “You love my cousin, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy mumbled.
“Yes, you do,” Angel said, squeezing her hand. “And he loves you so that makes us family.” He tugged her toward the kitchen despite her dragging her feet.
Buffy was so stunned by Angel’s announcement that she couldn’t move. If Angel hadn’t been pulling her along, she felt that she would have collapsed on the floor. Not once had she ever thought that Spike could love her. Care about her, be her friend, yes, but never love her. Not when he wanted her gone the day after next.
“Cuz,” Angel said, stopping by the table. “For some reason Buffy thinks this family is perfect. And that you’re too good for her because somehow you haven’t been tainted by life. Don’t you think it’s time to tell her everything?”
Spike stared at his cousin. His mouth opened and closed several times before shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can,” was all he said. He buried his face in his hands. There was a slight tremble to his body as if he was overwhelmed.
Buffy took a seat in the chair next to him.
“Its okay, Spike,” she said, wrapping her hand around his arm.
“No, it’s not,” Cordelia said. “Spike, you need to start letting go. It’s over with. It wasn’t your fault.”
“And it’s not like you don’t know everything there is to know about Buffy,” Angel added.
Spike snapped his head up to look at Buffy. She felt his confusion and hoped that he understood she only wanted to know because she cared. Somewhere in the past few days he had become so much more than a protector to her. He was her friend and her lover. He laughed with her, played with her, and understood both her dreams and fears. She loved him with all the promises that life had to offer.
“It’s up to you, Spike,” Buffy said, letting her thumb caress his arm. “I hope that you trust me with whatever it is, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”
~~~~~~~
Spike continued to stare at Buffy. There was a spark in her eyes that wasn’t even there when they made love. It warmed him, making him feel safe with her. If there was going to be any relationship, whether it was a friendship or something more than she had the right to know everything. She had the right to decide if she could live with the reality of the man he was and not just the man she thought he was. And he wanted to know if there was a chance she could before he got in too deep.
“Come on, pet,” Spike said, standing up. He turned to Angel. “Okay, if we do this just the two of us?”
“Sure, Spike, whatever you need.”
Taking her hand he led her to the enclosed rear patio. There was a loveseat swing hanging on one end of the porch. He took a seat, pulling her down beside him. Already he was hearing his father’s voice in his head telling him how disappointing he was. Spike leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. Buffy’s leaned closer to him and he wanted to hold onto her, letting her chase away the nightmares that still haunted him.
“My dad was a cop,” Spike started, sitting back but still staring at the ground. Anywhere but at piercing green eyes that saw too much and had invaded so much of his life. “And he fit the profile of the old time cops, very tough and macho. He wanted me to be the spitting image of him. Even when I was little and would skin my knee or something, he’d tell me to suck it up and be a man.”
Spike puffed out his chest in an imitation of how he remembered his father to be.
“How could you be a man when you were only a little boy?” Buffy asked with her eyes wide.
“It’s what he expected,” Spike said, shrugging. “Boys didn’t cry and I learned not to let him see me. I would rather have swallowed back the worst pain in the world instead of facing the ridicule he’d give me if he saw a tear.”
“Oh, Spike, that wasn’t fair. Where was your mother?”
“My mum was always sickly and I tried to take care of her,” Spike said with a laugh. “My father wanted me playing sports like Angel did, but I was spending a lot of time indoors, reading to her, and helping her out with the chores.”
He stopped to take a ragged breath. Memories flooded over him. The images of his father trying to teach him to play football when he was worried if his mother had taken her medicine on time still hurt him. The scorn he endured because he would cook dinner then washed the dishes afterwards.
It was women’s work and his father never let him forget. He’d even gone so far as to buy his son a pink apron to wear when he was in the kitchen. Maybe he was only hoping that the mockery would toughen Spike up and make him want to be more like his father. It only made the situation worse and encouraged an anger that still hadn’t faded.
“Didn’t he understand you loved your mother and that you were only trying to protect her?” Buffy asked, taking his hand.
“No, not really,” he laughed. “He resented Mum. He married her because she was this beautiful petite English china doll and then didn’t understand why she was weak.”
“What did she do about your father?” Buffy asked. “I mean about the way he treated you. Did she try to stop him?”
“How could she? She was dependent on him for everything,” Spike said, putting his arm around Buffy’s shoulder. “She married him when she was nineteen and never worked a day in her life. What was she going to do? Make him angrier? She was terrified of being kicked out.”
His mum always told him that he had to behave. He couldn’t upset his father. He just had to try harder. But it was never enough. Torn between trying to please a father who wanted an All American boy and a mother who needed him to care for her, it always felt like no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough.
“She let you be abused?” Buffy asked bitterly. “She could have found a way if she wanted.”
“I wasn’t abused,” Spike said, looking at Buffy in surprise. “We just didn’t get along. I was never good enough for him and he wasn’t bashful in letting me know it.” He shrugged.
His father had never raised a hand to him. His words had often been harsh. He was never given affection by the man who raised him. But he never lacked for food, clothes, or other necessities. Being a cop, he knew what abuse was. It wasn’t him.
“How did it end?” Buffy asked.
“He died in a car accident. In the car with him was the woman he was having an affair with and her seven-year-old son,” Spike answered, detachedly. Not once had he ever let himself really accept what happened. If he did then he would have to accept his own failure. “The little boy was killed, too. Apparently my dad had been seeing her for awhile. Telling us he was working overtime when he was with her and the boy who was fulfilling his dreams.”
“What do you mean?”
Spike looked over at her with a wan smile. “I found out that the little boy was everything I wasn’t. He was into soccer, little league, a real sports type.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Maybe, just maybe if I had been enough for him the kid wouldn’t have been in the car.”
“Oh, Spike,” Buffy said, snuggling closer. Her arms snaked around him, holding him tight. “It wasn’t your fault. Your father made his own decisions and you were barely more than a child yourself.”
“Didn’t feel like it, Luv,” Spike said.
“How did you and your mother cope?”
“It wasn’t really one of our brighter moments,” Spike said. “We got through it though. We got the police widow and survivor pension to help keep a roof over our heads. I did odd jobs to help bring money in. My Mum ended up clinging to me tighter. She wanted me to take over the household and run everything. I was all she had so I did. The bills, the shopping, the housework, taking care of her and school, too.” He laughed. “I worked my ass off but I guess it wasn’t enough. She died when I was fifteen. I think she just gave up.”
“How sad for her,” Buffy said. “Is that when you went to live with Angel and Cordelia?”
“Yeah, I got so scared that I’d end up in a shelter or something,” Spike said, with a shiver. “They showed up as soon as they got the news and took me home with them. I gave them hell because I was so angry about everything but mostly at myself. I kept going over everything I could have done differently but nothing changed. It took months but I finally settled down. They made me face who I was.”
“Someone very special,” Buffy whispered.
“Don’t think that, Luv,” Spike said. “Told you before that I’m just a man and sometimes a very fucked up man at that.”
“But you’re always trying to be the hero,” Buffy said. “And you’ve saved me twice now.” She chuckled. “In my book that makes you special.”
Spike shook his head. She just didn’t understand. How could she? She’d been the golden girl, growing up with money, looks and personality. What happened to her had happened outside her world. He’d grown up in a world that didn’t accept him, where he didn’t fit in even with his family. Sure, Angel and he had always been friends but he reasoned they were forced to because they were related.
Not being able to accept her pity, he stood and started to pace. He was on the second turn when she stood in front of him. Her hands cupped his face. The kiss she bestowed was filled with so much love it made him ache. If only she did love him. If only life was fairer than what it was, maybe they had a chance. But one day he would let her down like everyone else. It was one of the reasons he wanted her to leave. That way she would remember him as her hero.
“Stop it,” Buffy ordered. “I don’t want you to be perfect. Not when I’m as messed up as I am.”
“I’m not who you want me to be,” Spike said, holding her wrists to try to keep her away from him. He needed to make sure she understood that he would disillusion her eventually. “No matter how much I’d like to fit that fantasy, this man doesn’t have wings or a sword.”
“No, you have something better. Honor and courage,” Buffy said. “I want you just the way you are. Let’s go home so I can show you how much.”
Without waiting for an answer she took his hand to lead him back into the house to make their good-nights. He meekly followed the girl who was shining a beam of light into his soul. Angel and Cordelia shooed them out the door with grins on their faces.
The ride home was made in silence but she was beside him. This time when they stopped the car, there was no running, no laughing as she led him through the parking lot and inside the house. Spike locked the front door then followed her through the darkened living room into the bedroom. She had lit a few candles around the room. Afraid it was only a dream, he didn’t say anything. He watched her undress then come to him with only a smile.
Her hands were gentle as she undressed him. Soft caresses were trailed across his skin as she pulled his clothes off. The invitation was clear when she lay across his bed, her hand held out to him. He followed her down, accepting her control when she covered his body with hers. She kissed and nipped her way from his chest to his stomach then lower. Her mouth heated as she pleasured him.
And he wanted to believe.
to be continued….
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