***
It was a cold, late December night in Sunnydale. Silence fell over the town and the Summers house in Revello Drive. Buffy walked out of the kitchen, letting out a slight, tired sigh. The Potentials, and Dawn and Willow - the girl squad of the Slayer's army - were already sleeping, all tired after the day-long training. Giles went to sleep early too, exhausted by researching and dealing with the lousy girls. Andrew must have been also off, if the lack of noise of TV or stereo from his room was any indication.
Buffy switched off the light in the living room, and was about to ascend the stairs to go to her room and welcome a good night sleep too, when led by a sudden thought, she stopped and made her way toward the basement's door. She couldn't explain the reason, but she felt the urge to check on the blond vampire chained to the basement's walls.
Some days had passed since she retrieved him from the First; since she found him in that cavern, brutally tortured and beaten up. Though she was used to the sight of wounds, she had hardly been able to hide her horror when she had looked at the vampire. His unusually pale face covered with dried blood and dirt, swollen bruises all over his tortured body - no one would have believed that he was a strong, ass-kicking vampire. Also, Buffy had hardly been able to see the vampire in him then. All she had seen was a man, almost tormented to death, in pain and utterly suffering, who had needed her help. She had sensed his doubts concerning her actions, and her heart had sunk for him. She could have cried in fury and pain, but she had known she couldn't have let herself break down in front of him; not when he needed her strength. No matter how much she had tried to cry inside, some tears hadn't complied, and gathered in the corner of her eyes.
Thanks to Spike's vampire-healing, his wounds disappeared soon, leaving only some scars and faded spots behind. Only the very deep ones were still visible, but they also seemed to be on the way to healing. Soon he was his old self again - the vampire that had been taken from the basement some time ago. The only difference was that he seemed to have lost the First's control. At least Buffy thought so. But there were others in the house who weren't so sure about their safety. Reminding them of what had happened before Spike was kidnapped, Giles argued about chaining him up in the basement again, until it is completely sure that the vampire wasn't dangerous to the residents of this house anymore. Surprisingly to Buffy, Spike had agreed with Giles' intention, and let himself be imprisoned without reluctance. Buffy could sense even the Watcher had been shocked at the vampire's cooperation.
Days had passed without any attack against his mind, and Buffy was relieved, and believed it was time to let him free. From the look Giles gave anytime Spike was mentioned, Buffy knew that convincing the Watcher would be a tough ride. She could see the mistrust in the middle-aged man's eyes, and she was aware of the fact that the "freeing-Spike" mission was not going to be a pleasant chat with tea and cookies.
I'll talk to Giles about this tomorrow Buffy resolved, and cautiously turning the doorknob, she silently entered the basement. She immediately stopped, hearing the soft, male voice quietly singing some old Christmas song. Buffy held her breath, perking up her ears to try and make out the lyrics.
"...just like the ones I used to know..."
Spike? Was it Spike singing?
Biting her lips, she carefully took two steps forward to get closer to the sound, and peeked down toward the origin of the voice.
Spike was sitting on his cot, his back and head resting on the cold tiles of the wall, legs curled up toward him. Eyes shut, he was singing in a low voice.
"...where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow..."
Buffy froze and shuddered at hearing the genuine sadness and sorrow in the vampire's tone. It was even more difficult to bear when his voice hit the low chords.
"... I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, ...."
She gulped, realizing the pain he was actually feeling. He hadn't had a decent Christmas since... Since he was sired, she concluded with a heavy feeling in her heart. Though Christmas is the most beautiful festivity in the world. He'd deserve to have one after all that he had gone through. Her heart sank for him.
She slowly walked down the stairs, not taking her gaze off of him.
Sensing her presence, Spike stopped singing, and turned his head toward her; his blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight that was filtering through the small window.
"Hey, pet," he sent her a little smile, "What are you doing here?"
Buffy eased her weight onto the other leg, and puzzled, she replied, "Just wanted to check on you."
Spike laughed. "No need to worry about me, luv," he lifted his hand to remind her of the manacles on his wrists, "I'm safe," he referred to the fact that under these circumstances he couldn't hurt anyone. "Just as you are," he added.
"You don't need these for that," she stepped closer to him, "The chip...your soul..."
"Buffy, it's better this way," his eyes looked deep into hers. "Believe me. As long as there is a bloody chance that the sodding First might keep me under it's control, I can't guarantee I'll be a good boy." Then he snorted, "Not that I ever have been."
Buffy bit her lip and sat onto the edge of the cot. "But you had been," she countered softly, "Many times."
"Yeah?" he raised a brow questioningly, his eyes smiling mischieviously. "Then I'm kinda like that Jekyll and Hyde guy," he smirked.
"That's a good allusion," Buffy's mouth curled into a broad smile.
Spike grinned at her, then resuming his serious tone, he said softly. "You know that I don't want to hurt you and the others, don't you?" his eyes searching hers.
"I know," she answered quietly, not breaking the gaze.
Spike could swear he saw some strange spark lightening up in her emerald eyes.
Buffy sighed and said, "I wish there was only you and me."
He casted her an inquiring, surprised glance.
"Then you wouldn't need these chains," she explained with disgust, touching the heavy, cold metal around his wrist, and shivered at the contact with this monster, which imprisoned the vampire like an octopus. She hated herself for him being in this situation. "I could deal with..."
As her voice fainted, Spike put his chained hand on hers.
"This is all for your safety," he told her softly, "It must be this way. Without them, but with that bloody First in my mind I'm more dangerous than I've ever been. You know that."
"But you have the chip..." she insisted.
"I've had that in the past days and was it of any use? I did horrible things..." he sneered, the pain flashing through his face, recalling the memories, "Seems like that bloody chip doesn't matter anymore. I'm nothing more than a sodding puppet of Evil. Not vampire, not human... You said it, remember? You were bloody right," he sighed and looked away from her. "I don't fit anywhere..." Spike gulped as emotions were about to overwhelm him. "And with this soul... it's more unbearable. I didn't want to do all that horror... but I did them anyhow, and now I feel their weight in my soul..."
Buffy's heart wrenched at his obvious suffering. He didn't deserve this torment. Not even after his past. He had already paid the price for his deeds as a bloodthirsty vampire when he got his soul back. For her.
She couldn't say anything, just swallowed her tears, taking his hand in hers.
"Anyway, it must be part of my redemption," he feigned a nonchalant, joking attitude. "Or my demon still can't accept that this guy here signed up for the right side, moreover sealing this pact with a soul."
Buffy looked up at him. "But the demon will never win. Not anymore," she remarked with determination.
He casted her a serious, inquiring look.
"I've told you, Spike - I believe in you," her look was firm and honest. "I truly do."
Spike returned a grateful, touched smile. "Thank you, Buffy," he would have liked to tell her how much this meant to him, but couldn't put it into words. So he just gazed at her without saying anything more.
"Anytime," Buffy whispered, and suppressed a yawn.
Spike smiled and patted her hand, "Go to sleep, Slayer. You need to rest."
"No," she countered, stubborness in her voice. "I want to stay." She looked at him, searching his eyes for permission. "Here. With you."
Spike's eyelids fluttered of surprise. His ice-blue eyes stared into her green ones, wondering about her intentions. He didn't want to do anything that might have endangered this vulnerable, trust-based, new relationship they had begun. He hoped the Slayer thought the same.
She didn't break the gaze, but gave him a meaningful look that gave away everything.
Understanding her, Spike opened his arms and pulled her into a comforting embrace.
Contented, Buffy rested her head on his chest, while her arms found their place on his.
"Sing to me a little?" she hopefully glanced up at him.
"I..." he was about to resist, but Buffy cut him off.
"Please, Spike..." she begged like a little girl, and Spike couldn't say no anymore.
Conceding, he let his head fall back onto the wall, and easing his nerves, started to sing the same song he had been when Buffy entered the cellar.
"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas..."
*
"You miss Christmas, don't you?" Buffy asked after a while.
"Well, not those bloody cards actually, but... yeah... I miss the atmosphere of the feast. The mystery of it, the scent of the tree, the crackling fire, the noise of unwrapping the gifts, the smell of Christmas cookies, the candlelight..." Spike remembered.
"Funny to imagine you in formal-wear under the Christmas tree," she snickered.
He snorted. "Hey, Slayer, I came from a bloody noble family. We followed the traditions. Decorated the tree, went to church, had a festive dinner..."
"You? In the church??" she looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes.
"Hey, I was all human then! No fear of the sacred stuff. Our family was religious. In some ways, I still am," he lowered his head. "At least I think I'm getting back on the right track, and maybe..." his voice choked on emotion.
Buffy gently squeezed his hand.
"You are on the good side now," she ensured him. "And I'm sure that what you've done since... since you decided to make the change, have earned good points to you. You're not lost. Not anymore."
Spike dropped his gaze at her, and seriously asked. "But could one's deeds and all that horror they brought ever be forgotten?" he looked into her eyes, demanding an answer. "Can you forget?" he emphasized the subject.
"I don't want to forget," she returned his intense stare, her voice firm, yet gentle. "Because everything you've done had a role in this process of self-development. You'd started this journey from the dark, and ended up finding the light. And this light is bright enough to come over the darkness that once had surrounded you," she paused, then asked low-key, "Doesn't the fact that I trust you prove that you've changed?"
"It does," he noted softly with a grateful smile, and caressed her hand.
Buffy's lips curved up into a satisfied smile, and she snuggled closer to the vampire.
Tightening his hold around her fragile, yet strong body, Spike closed his eyes, and continued humming the Christmas song. His velvet voice lulled her into sleep. Spike also dozed off a bit later, so the two blonds were sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. Like never before.
*
Buffy strode into the living room, fresh and energetic after the good sleep and quick shower. She hadn't felt so rested in a long time. That sleep in a certain blond vampire's comforting, reassuring hold last night was beneficial in more ways. Not only physically, but mentally too. Since having broken away from his embrace in the early morning, and left his peacefully sleeping figure in the cellar, Buffy couldn't help but think about him and that she should re-evaluate their relationship. Spike had indeed changed. He wasn't that vicious, bloodthirst-driven killer, that evil vampire with destructive and deadly strength she had once known. Was the reason that chip the Initiative had put into his brain, or the soul he had retrieved - for her exactly, or the love he claimed to have felt for her, no matter which it was, the point was that he was someone new. And Buffy had to admit that this new man - with some of his old traits that belonged to his personality - appealed to her indeed. She recalled the image of him sleeping peacefully on that cot; in the dark, cold basement where the Scoobies extended with the Potentials - who, Buffy contemplated many times, were a complete disaster with some girly features - had outlawed him, indicating the First's control over the vampire and some safety issues. Buffy could agree with the others' arguments and actions less and less, suspecting they didn't want to see the change that had happened in Spike, and she had the feeling that her friends wanted the vampire out of the house and their life for good. And this upset her a lot.
She was thinking while having a shower, and she realized some things that helped her to see more clearly. Among other things, she finally had to face the fact that her friends had changed a lot, and mostly not in a positive way. She felt as if their confidence in her had weakened. Even if they wouldn't have admitted it.
Also, she guessed she had come to terms with her feelings concerning Spike. She needed someone who cared about her, trusted her... and loved her. Someone who wiped her tears if she cried, comforted her if she felt helpless, held her if she needed it, and... loved her without conditions. Her - the Slayer, and the girl she was deep inside. Not only this or that, but both; her real self. And then she thought of him. The guy who had been beside her through good and bad - mostly the latter - times, who knew her more than anyone else, knew her deepest secrets, her dark side, just as the cheery, cheeky, naughty, love-thirsty girl who needed safety, comfort and care.
When will you finally stop lying to yourself, a voice demanded in her mind. And when she exited the bathroom, she had the answer eventually.
"Morning, Buffy, join us?" Dawn smiled as she noticed her sister in the doorway of the living room. Along with Anya and Xander, she was decorating the Christmas tree that was standing in front of the windows, while the Potentials were placing the stockings onto the mantelpiece and decorating the room with hollies, lights and other Christmas ornaments.
"Yeah, Buff," Xander added from the top of a ladder as he was trying to place the ornaments onto the upper half of the tree. Seemingly, he wasn't in a very stable position. "We really need some help."
"There are already enough staff on this task," Buffy grinned, taking a look at the trio. "But if you insist on acquiring some help, I'll ask Andrew. I'm sure he'll be utterly enthusiastic."
"No, no, we'll be fine," Anya resisted immediately, sitting under the tree, dealing with some boxes, "Xander is grumbling only because he got the upper part of the tree."
"Try this and speak after," he retorted.
"You know that I get dizzy on the ladder," Anya reprimanded.
"Good excuse," Xander sneered.
Buffy chuckled. "Just keep up the good job," she said and left the room.
Smiling, Buffy shook her head in amusement. The strains of some Christmas song from the room followed her, reminding her how much she loved Christmas. Spike's words about his relation to the celebration popped into her mind again, and her thoughts wandered back to him. The fact that he was imprisoned into the basement, chained to the cold and damp wall, made her heart sink. And that was when an idea occured to her. She smiled and putting her coat on, she hurried out of the house.
*
Hours later, after an - fortunately - uneventful day, Buffy walked toward the cellar's door, when a hand touched her shoulder, and a familiar voice called from behind her back.
"Hey, Buffy," Willow's voice drew her attention, as the Wicca was standing in front of her with a bowl in her hands."Wanna have a taste?" she asked, offering her a spoonful chocolate cream she was stirring.
"Sure," Buffy returned the smile, and took the spoon. "Mmm, it's fabolous," she murmured, licking her lips.
"Great," Willow beamed at her. "Kennedy, Giles and I were spending the whole day in the kitchen
"O-oh..." Buffy's eyes widened, and she chuckled, "Giles?"
"Yup," the witch returned the amused glance, "He insisted on helping with the kitchen stuff. Must be an effect of this 'the-battle-is-close,let's-get-some-scores' thing," she rolled her eyes.
"Yeah," Buffy nodded.
"Will, what's with the cream?" Kennedy's impatient voice called from the kitchen.
"I'd better be going," Willow winked. "Seems they can't manage without me."
Buffy smiled, and watched her friend leave. Then she made her way towards the basement.
*
After having heard the noise of the cellar's door open, Spike noticed a tiny light sneaking into the darkness. Before the visitor said anything, he immediately detected the sweet scent that belonged to only a certain person in the house. To the girl who still made his non-beating heart flutter anytime she looked into his eyes.
And there she is again.
His beautiful girl descended the stairs slowly, her gaze pierced him. Hypnotized, Spike locked her gaze, and sat up on the cot.
"Hey," it was all she said as she gracefully strode toward him, a soft smile on her face. In her white blouse, a silk, golden scarf around her neck, and tight, knee-length, silvergrey skirt in the pale, yet shimmering moonlight she looked like an angel from heaven.
Spike didn't know what, but something wasn't right. Actually he felt something unusual in her behaviour, something that in the context with him couldn't be right. She seemed to be relaxed and... no, not happy, but... something close to that.
"Hey, luv," he uttered, trying to act calm and not showing how much she bewitched him. They hadn't seen each other since last night, so Spike didn't know what to expect from her. But if her behavior was any indication, she didn't regret having stayed with him the night before. That was a relief.
His eyes just drank in the sight of her, her smile; he could never get enough.
"Coming to do the daily check?" he noted with a smile to ease the tension he felt inside.
"Maybe," she replied as she sat down next to him.
"You should help the others, shouldn't you?" he cocked his head toward upstairs.
"They don't need me," she replied nonchalantly, and started to untie the scarf around her neck.
Not knowing what she was up to, Spike just stared at her, "Buffy, what--?"
"Shhh," she put a finger to his lips, while the other hand slid the scarf off. "Don't ask," she sent him a mischievious smile, "you'll see."
The sensation of the soft, warm finger touching his lips sent some pleasant tingles through Spike's body, and they just doubled when Buffy kneeled before him on the cot, her breasts under the white, silky material, close to his face, her perfume lingering around, and she covered his eyes with the scarf, blindfolding him, her slender fingers sliding into his hair.
Spike's breath caught in surprise, and he gulped as some naughty thoughts entered his mind. He still didn't have a clue what she was up to, but something told him that he should just obey her and not ask.
She moved away soon, and though he couldn't see, Spike could guess what she was doing.
She slipped off, leaving him alone on the cot, then hurried through the room, and quickly ran up the stairs then down again.
"Pet?" Spike called in an unsure tone, like someone stumbling in the dark, looking for the lightswitch. Well, that suits me now after all, he chuckled inside. "Unless it's some naughty game, I hate when my sight is blocked."
Buffy's laughter was heard from the center of the room.
"It's not a real handicap to a vampire," she countered, while opening the bag she had left at the door when having entered, and retreived some moments ago. "You have extraordinary hearing skills. That compensates for the lack of visual experience."
"Not for me," Spike remarked, "No sound can compare with your pretty face and golden locks and..." his voice faltered.
Buffy was glad that he couldn't see her blushing.
"So...why don't you sing me some Christmas song again?" she mumbled, taking something out of the bag, then walking to the other side of the basement.
Embarrassed, huh? Spike grinned. "What would this lady like to listen to?"
"Rudolph?"
"C'mon, Slayer, that's so childish," Spike snorted.
"Spike!!" she reprimanded, looking offended. "How can you be so...?"
"So what?" he laughed.
"So seriously adult," she pouted.
He chuckled, leaning his head back on the wall. "You know, I thought you'd rather hear something emotional like that Presley git's 'Blue Christmas'."
As the words left his mouth, he immediately regretted them. He knew that she knew what he meant, and that the bare mention of that third person would make the air chill.
Though he couldn't see her, due to his vampire-smelling he could easily register her flinching - the salty unique smell of the little sweatdrops emerging on her skin confirmed his theory.
"Sorry, luv," he murmured with shame. "I didn't...That's none of my bloody business after all..."
Buffy swallowed, and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "No," she sighed, "it's..."
Spike could sense the hurt in her voice, and suddenly he cursed himself for having been such a jerk.
"...it's just that..." she sighed again. Damn, it's really hard to say out loud. "He was part of my life. I loved him."
He heard her voice trembling a bit, and he closed his eyes under the blindfold in desperation, trying not to get offended by her words. She'll always love him, Spike reminded himself bitterly, you'd better yield into this.
Touching a serious ground, Spike decided to quit the game and face Buffy, so he moved his hand to remove the scarf from his eyes, when a delicate hand stopped it.
"Please, don't," her voice engulfed by emotion called from close, and Spike could smell her perfume again and sense her body-heat in front of him. But this time he could detect something else too: the smell of pine. She smelled like a tree in the forest. Might be from the tree upstairs. I just haven't noticed it thus far, he mused.
He wanted to resist, but after a moment, with a conceding sigh he agreed, and let her take his hand in hers.
"Buffy, I guess you'd better go now," he bit his lip; his voice was quiet and deep.
"Not until I've accomplished why I'm here," she replied firmly, lightly touching his hair. Though it was just a barely noticable physical connection, Spike felt it clearly, and instinctively shivered at the tender move.
"Okay," he whispered, giving in, and squeezed her hand gently.
Buffy nodded, and reluctantly moved away to finish the work she was in the middle of.
Spike let out a non audible sigh, and leaning back on the wall again, he started singing.
"Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, Had a very shiny nose..."
Buffy smiled as she recognized the song, and was touched that he had given in, and sang it to her after all.
"And if you ever saw it, You would even say it glows..."
*
Minutes had passed. Spike sang the whole song about Rudolph, then continued with Frosty, the Snowman, and was in the middle of the song about Santa Claus coming to town, when Buffy's content voice announced, "Okay, Spike, I'm ready."
"Well, it's about bloody time," he playfully grumbled, and stretched his neck, "I've already started to feel more than silly singing aloud for God knows how long."
"You did it because I asked you to," Buffy noted as she was untieing the scarf.
"Isn't that what I mostly do?" he remarked, without expecting an answer.
"It is," she whispered barely audiable; but to a vampire it was loud enough.
His eyes meet hers as soon as the scarf was no longer blocking his view; her genuine gaze almost burned him.
Then he averted his gaze to the room, and his jaws almost dropped as he just stared at the sight before him.
The dark cellar was now lit by several candles, some of them having a special cinnamon scent. And in the other end of the room a tiny, little, nicely trimmed and beautifully decorated Christmas tree was standing proudly, being the ornament of the basement. The silver and golden balls were shining in the semi-darkness, the candlelight reflecting in the silverish garlands. Candy canes and hollies were hanging down from the pretty tree, and little figures of angels and santa had their place between the evergreen branches too. Underneath the tree a plate full of Christmas cookies was waiting to be devoured.
Spike couldn't believe his eyes. This must be a dream. The candlelight reflecting in his eyes, he just stared at this Christmas miracle, eagerly drinking in the sight.
"Merry Christmas, Spike," Buffy said softly, watching his reaction with satisfaction.
He glanced up at her, his voice cracking as he tentatively asked, "Is this...?"
Buffy smiled at him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
"This is for you."
The vampire's eyes widened slightly, and welled up as he tried to comprehend the meaning of her words. He looked at the surprise, then at the Slayer again, and only when she nodded with an assuring smile, did he understand what had been going on in the cellar in the past half hour.
His gaze met hers again, and her heart almost broke registering the utter happiness and gratefulness that his eyes were mirroring through the shiny tears, which were about to escape any minute. Such a little surprise can cause someone such genuine happiness, she felt ashamed thinking of all those big, expensive things many people were wishing for. And here she was with a man, considered to have been evil and dangerous, whose face was bright with true happiness, one that only those innocent little kids had on their faces at this time of the year. Maternal instinct or something else she felt, Buffy would have pulled him into a warm hug right then, but afraid of the consequences, she resisted.
"Slayer," he managed to speak, however choking on emotions, "it's... bloody marvellous..." He grabbed her hand gently, while his amazingly blue eyes like saphyre were sparkling at her, "Thank you very much."
Buffy smiled through her own tears, extremely happy that her plan had succeeded so well.
"You deserve it," she said, their eyes locked and communicating on another level that words couldn't.
"I..." Spike tried to speak, but his voice faltered. The tears escaped from his eyes instead, rolling down on his pale cheeks. "I haven't had a bloody Christmas tree since..." he gulped the happy tears, and squeezed her small hand.
"I guessed so," she noted, smiling.
They gazed each other for a long moment until Spike broke the silence.
"Why, pet?" he searched her eyes. "Why did you arrange this for me? For a vampire?" his look was serious and demanding a honest answer.
Puzzled, Buffy looked down and gulped before saying anything. "You've changed," she muttered, "You're not a real vampire anymore. You're special. Almost human," she still didn't look at him, but his hand holding hers. "You've done a lot of things to prove that you're not the one I met years ago."
"That doesn't explain all this," he gestured toward the tree and candles. "A Christmas card would have sufficed then." Suspiciously, his eyes narrowing, he noted, "There must be something else..."
She swallowed hard. Damn, vampire skills! How does he always know if I'm hiding something, she frowned. Come on, Buffy. The stage is yours. Tell him.
She took a deep breath, and faced the blond vampire. "Yup, there's also another reason..."
Why is this so hard? I should have taken the class 'How to Express Emotions --- For Beginners' at school. Or rather 'Complicated Love Issues'? The best would have been the 'How to Confess Your Love To Someone Who Has Been Your Mortal Enemy'.
She bit her lip nervously, and looked into his eyes.
How can he be so calm when I'm nervous as hell? That's not fair.
He was waiting patiently for her reply; his eyes encouragingly staring into hers.
Now or never, Buffy made up her mind.
"I couldn't bear the thought that you're here in this unfriendly, uncomfortable place, while we celebrate upstairs with all that Christmas stuff. And you seemed so sad when you told me about Christmas in your time last night..." she stammered. "And I didn't want you to feel that way, since I hate when my friends are moody, especially at this time of year, and..." Come on, Buffy! Don't be such a chicken! "And most of all, because I love you." There it was. Finally she said it.
Spike stared at her with eyes wide in shock, "What did you say?" he raised his brows, studying her face for a sign that this was all a joke. "I don't think I heard right..."
"Something wrong with those supernatural vampire hearing skills?" she mocked him with a grin, then repeated what she had said before. "I said that I love you," she smiled, enjoying the incredulous expression on his face.
If his heart was beating, it would have skipped a beat now. Or rather stopped.
"If I didn't know that the First cannot touch anything, I'd bloody say that you're him," he noted, eyes still searching hers for a little light that would give away that this was a game.
Buffy sighed. She hadn't thought that it would be so difficult. "Spike, it's me," she spoke softly, and touched his cheek, leaning closer so that her eyes were piercing his. "I'm not the First, nor a robot or another double. I am Buffy Summers. The real one. The one and only." A beat, then she added with a mischivious smile, "I guess I'd better prove it," she whispered and closing the distance between their faces, she kissed him tenderly at first, then as she realized what she had missed, she demanded his lips with more passion. Spike reluctantly kissed her back first, but as he realized that she was real and not some dream or evil forces playing with him, he returned the kiss with the same ferocity.
*
The candles were all burnt out in the room, only the tree's garlands were twinkling in the morning light that was filtering through the small basement window. Feeling the cold air on her shoulder, Buffy instinctively shivered. Spike sensed her movement in half-sleep, and pulled her closer, her bare back meeting his chest. Though his temperature was cool too, the warmth their bodies had generated in the passion of love last night was enough to make her feel good. He wrapped his arms around her as much as his chains allowed, and nuzzled his nose into her silky hair. It smellt so good. Shampoo, the candle's cinnamon scent, also a bit of the smell of the pine tree. An exotic combination. Just as her, he noted.
This must be a dream, Spike thought as he realized what had happened in the cellar. They had had a wonderful night that was the start of something new having formed between the two of them. Something precious, true and amazing. A bond of trust and love. Something they both had craved, yet never gotten completely. They both had walked rough roads, always trying, waiting, and hoping - hoping that maybe they found what they had been looking for. But now the long, bumpy road ended - no more searching and wondering.
Last night had been different than all those times they had sex. This time it had been about real emotions, true love, and not only desire and the plain act. It hadn't been only sex, it had been making love. Everything had been different - they had taken their time, all their moves had been slow and gentle as they had explored the magic of making love to each other. Mutually. This time it had been not only Spike who had given his heart into the game of 'show me what you feel', but also Buffy had been there completely, with heart and soul.
Spike felt that, and knowing that just made him even more happy.
How can a vampire be really happy? he snorted. Bollocks, he grinned.I'm bloody happy, don't care what others might say. He glanced down at Buffy, the angel in his arms. Yeah, I'm happy. Cos she didn't leave. *This time* she didn't leave.
Buffy stirred, and Spike gave a little, soft kiss on her neck. Buffy smiled contently and gladly, and rolled onto her back to face the man who had made her the happiest girl in the world last night. And she was a happy girl to wake up beside him. Those stupid bitches couldn't appreciate this, she thought of Spike's exes with some malovence.
Her look met the most beautiful sight, one she could have only dreamt about. A pair of amazingly blue eyes - she wondered if there was a shade of that blue in nature at all - were staring down at her, lovingly, admiringly, and sparkling with a light she hadn't seen in them this far. And then she understood - it was the light of genuine happiness. Funny, she thought, sinking into their blue sea, the bird of happiness is also blue. Could it be a coincidence?
His features were calm, yet his hair was messed up due to their recent exhausting activity. But Buffy didn't mind that, moreover she found it incredibly sexy.
"Merry Christmas, Goldilocks," he beamed at her; his voice caressing her ears like the finest velvet.
"Merry Christmas, Spike," she smiled broadly, and pulled him into a tender kiss.
A loud, sudden scream from upstairs made the couple pull apart. Buffy's body immediately tensed, and she shot a terrified look at Spike. He smiled reassuringly, and placed a little kiss on her forehead.
"No need to panick, luv," he muttered, as the scream was followed some happy laughter "Just the bloody girls," he noted, taking a glance in the direction in question. "They must be unwrapping the presents," he snickered. His theory was confirmed by a ear-splitting squeal 'A new skirt!!!', then Andrew's cry, 'The action figure of Luke Skywalker!!!'.
Buffy giggled, following his look, "You seem to be right."
"Just as many other times," he purred into her ear.
She laughed quietly, and made him look at her.
"Aren't you a bit too self-confident?" she mocked him.
"Hmm," Spike feigned to be pondering, not taking his eyes off of her inviting lips, "maybe, I am," he replied in a husky tone, mysteriously, while his thumb trailed down on her cheek, and along her neck, until it reached her bare shoulder, and drew little patterns onto her collarbone. "But you like that in me," he added teasingly.
"No," she responded firmly.
"No?" the vampire looked up at her, slightly disappointed. His blue eyes mirrored confusion as they pierced the emerald ones of the girl beside him.
Buffy couldn't bear seeing his disappointment, and bursted out into a quiet laughter.
"Okay, okay, I do," she grinned broadly, "just wanted to see your reaction."
"Pet, that was bloody cruel," he raised a brow, feigning to be hurt. "You're bad."
She smirked, "I've never said the opposite. Actually I claimed that last night," she winked.
He chuckled.
"Yeah, something's coming back to me."
"Maybe I should refresh your memories," she licked her lips, and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.
He eagerly responded, letting himself driven by his emotions, which were getting stronger as time passed by. The day before he could have imagined his days without any intimate moments with "the Slayer", but since last night he was sure that he wasn't able to go on without her. And however they were lying in the semi-dark, cold cellar on his cot now, Spike was utterly happy. And he knew this feeling was something he didn't want to lose.
"So, what does this all mean for us?" he asked quietly after breaking away.
"I...I don't know..." Buffy muttered, then realizing how that sounded, she quickly added. "I mean these days are about death and fight, I can't guarrantee anything. Each tomorrow is a chance. For the First, for this group we have, for you and for me. We might fail. But we might also win," she paused then went on, "I don't know what tomorrow's going to bring. I don't know if we all are here the next day; if I survive. Maybe yes. Maybe no. But there's one thing I know for sure: no matter what, I want you by my side. As a warrior, and as something even more. I need you like I've never needed anyone. I need you to complete me. I can't face the First without you. I need your strength and love to help me through."
Spike was more than touched to hear her speak like that. He had never expected her telling such things to him.
"I'm here for you, luv. Till the end of time," he whispered, taking her hand.
She smiled with glassy eyes, and intertwined her fingers with his.
"I'm going to talk to Giles today. I want you to get unchained as soon as possible."
Spike was about to resist again, but Buffy silenced him with her index-finger.
"I know what you said. But I don't believe that there's no solution for this problem. Something other than this," she glanced at the manacles. "I can't bear the thought of my man spending the days like this."
Her man, Spike could have sworn that his non-beating heart made a move.
He didn't know what to say, so instead, he kissed her softly. And his kiss told more than any words could do.
"I love you," he whispered, his forehead resting on hers.
"I love you too," she whispered back with a content smile. And she really meant it.
End
Author's Chapter Notes:
Spoilers: "Showtime", "Never Leave Me", actually all the episodes before "Potential" in season 7.
The story takes place in Season 7, after "Potential", with a slightly changed storyline: Spike is chained in the basement after "Showtime" as a preventive action.
Thanks a lot to my betareader, Juanita! *hugs*
I dedicate this story to my friends, mostly to Nicky S. and Moonie, my lovely Spuffy-fan fellows! Also to Kenny (angels_cordy) for her incredible support. I love you, guys!!
And as this is the first Spuffy fic of mine that gets online... I just say: be warned! LOL
Oh and just to know - English is not my native language!
The story takes place in Season 7, after "Potential", with a slightly changed storyline: Spike is chained in the basement after "Showtime" as a preventive action.
Thanks a lot to my betareader, Juanita! *hugs*
I dedicate this story to my friends, mostly to Nicky S. and Moonie, my lovely Spuffy-fan fellows! Also to Kenny (angels_cordy) for her incredible support. I love you, guys!!
And as this is the first Spuffy fic of mine that gets online... I just say: be warned! LOL
Oh and just to know - English is not my native language!