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Ch. 6: Broken but Healed

When she awoke, he was gone, save for a white rose and a little note. Buffy held the rose for a long time, inhaling its pure scent and staring at her name scrawled in his handwriting. Biting her lip, she opened the note.

Buffy,

It has been incredible being with you. You are a woman whose strengths and humor and love of life all come together to create a near perfect person--and I say near perfect because you do have that tendency to bite, you sexy thing. You have the dvds to relive our moments together, but I won't need them to remember every second I spent with you. You made me feel good about who I am, what I can give and receive, and I hope I was able to do the same for you. Enjoy yourself, not just sexually. I will always remember you with a smile.

Love,
Spike

Pressing the note to her lips and holding the rose over her heart, Buffy closed her eyes and breathed, wanting to savor his scent that lingered in her bedroom. Slowly, she rose and went to take a long, hot shower. There was a tiny hope that maybe she was special, that he didn't say such things to everyone, but her logic simply mocked her, saying he was merely very good at his job. Regardless, he was no longer there, no longer next to her in bed, holding her and simply warming her with his body. He was no longer cooking for her, smirking at her inability to cook and her voracious eating skills. He was no longer there to touch her, to make her moan, to press against her body with sensations that she'd never felt before. The water beat down her body, and she tried not to choke as her sobs were drowned in the pulsing stream of the shower.

***

Weeks went by, and Buffy was still holding onto her memories of Spike. Supposedly she was cured, received sexual healing and all, but that didn't seem to be the case. In fact, every guy she met she sized up against Spike, and there was never any hope. No hope for the dark-haired lawyer who'd approached her at a bar, no hope for the blond friend of Xander's who'd hoped for a smile at a party, and certainly no hope for the brooding bulky man who'd watched her across the room and slunk over to ask for a dance. No, she didn't seem sexually healed and confident in her abilities. She seemed broken, incapable of noticing anyone who showed interest in her.

It was a Friday night, and she was home alone, ready to spend the evening watching her private DVD collection when the doorbell rang. Puzzled, she threw a robe over her skimpy PJs and then opened the door cautiously.

There was Spike, at her door, his eyes piercing her soul and reminding her of the missed warmth and desperate desire that had characterized the past weeks. A moment passed, each drinking in the other's presence. Finally he spoke.

"You broke me."

Silence stared at both of them staring at each other.

"Wha'?" Her puzzlement was slowly moving across her face, and though Spike knew he should explain himself, she was just so cute. He stared for a little while longer, soaking in her face and her body and her beautiful lips while she did the same to him.

And before he could blink, she'd pulled him inside, pushed him against the door, and kissed him hard, her lips mashed against his as if trying to test whether he were actually real flesh. Recovering from the shock, he gripped her and picked her up, her legs curling around him as if it were the natural thing to do. He turned and pushed her back against the door, lips and tongues and hands groping and yearning and burning with desire.

As they both began to slow, their desire temporarily sated by the burst of emotion, Spike realized that he was kissing tears, and that these tears were coming from both sets of eyes. He held her tightly, her face cuddling into the crook of his neck, and he carried her upstairs to her room.

Spike set her gently down on the bed and then lay next to her. They kissed tenderly, wiping away the tears with lips and fingers, and then as the tears subsided, they lay in each other's arms quietly.

Buffy was first to break the silence. Her hands playing with Spike's blond curls, she said, "So what do you mean? I broke you? What happened?" While speaking, she touched his hair and his hands, as if afraid he would disappear if a second went by without their bodies joined in some way.

Spike sighed, entwining his fingers with hers. "Well, I left you and went on to the next wish--the PTB never rest, you know. So I ended up in the hands of this twit Harmony. She was all about weird scenarios, but of course I had to comply. We were in the middle of one of them when, in a particularly intense moment, I called out your name."

Buffy's eyes grew wide with this admission, and then she threw her head back and laughed as Spike's face flushed with embarrassment.

"'S not that funny," he muttered, his face hiding in Buffy's chest.

"No, it's not, but it sure as hell makes me feel better," she said, still laughing. Her chest was heaving from all that laughter, and Spike found his face being jostled by her breasts. He used her laughter to tickle her breasts with his tongue and his nose.

Buffy's amusement turned quickly into shrieks as Spike mercilessly tickled her, and it was all Buffy could do to keep from ripping his ears out as her skin bounced away in an attempt to elude his tongue.

And then those shrieks turned into moans as he stopped tickling and started licking, swirling his tongue around her nipple, leaving a wet trail that sang with sensations as he lightly nipped at the hardening bud. She arched her back and luxuriated in his kisses, her whimpers coaxing him on.

He'd missed her taste, her scent, her sounds of delight. However, he felt they needed to clear things up first, discuss what had happened. He gave her breast a final, lingering kiss and then rested his forehead on his chest.

Buffy noticed his stilled movements and ran her fingers through his hair. She knew they should probably talk, but her fear of another disappearance had pushed her to savor every moment. Still, she held him close and waited for him to speak.

"I broke the rules," he said softly into her chest.

She pulled him up, seeing the sadness in his eyes as he launched into his tale. The Higher Powers had been sorely disappointed when their head genie had allowed a human to break into his heart. His calling of Buffy's name during a climax had not only made Harmony incensed but had also made it impossible to bring her healing; she'd already felt inadequate, and his mistake had made her spiral further into depression. They'd had some difficulties in giving her more appropriate healing, but another genie had been able to do the job.

He was sad, a little disappointed that his job had ended on such a sour note, but he wasn't depressed. He had some regrets, but there was also a bit of relief. And joy, especially when he looked into her hazel eyes filled with sincerity and love and acceptance.

"So what's going to happen now?" she asked tentatively. There was guilt in her voice; Buffy's conscience was yelling that she was responsible for the broken man before her.

"You know, when I said I was broken, I didn't mean totally. I mean, yes, I'm not a genie anymore," he said with his eyes lowered, his chin resting on her chest. "But I'm not unhappy. I'm not upset about it. I get to be with you," he said, his eyes meeting hers with his last word, "if you'll have me."

She gazed into his eyes, confusion marring her beauty. "What do you mean? I don't understand," she said. Her voice trembled; she was afraid to dive into the waiting oasis that seemed to beckon with future possibilities, and those kinds of dreams would only compound the loneliness that she'd been feeling ever since Spike had left her weeks ago. Buffy sat up a little as she waited for his explanation.

Spike sat up as well, noting her fear. "I'm not being punished for my mistake. I'm retiring." He chuckled a little as she looked at him in disbelief. "I know it sounds weird, retiring from being a genie, but I've been at it for the past 900 years. It's perfectly acceptable for me to retire now." He smiled at her astonishment in hearing his age. Taking her hands in his, he continued, "Genie retirement has three options. One, becoming a teacher up in the otherworld. Immortality, consorting with the gods, but I'd never return to this world. Two, becoming immortal but losing my genie powers. In other words, I'd live forever but I'd just be a normal guy wandering the Earth." He shrugged, clearly not interested in any of the stated options.

Buffy was amazed at how calmly he was speaking. This was his life, changing drastically, all because he'd screamed her name during one of his jobs. She felt she should be proud, but it was rather cold comfort when it had such a large impact. She waited for the last option.

"The last option is becoming human."

Buffy gasped in surprise. "Wait, Spike--"

"No, let me finish. I'd become human, but I'd still have some genie powers. Limited, of course, but still. And I know it's a huge thing for me to present to you, but what would be the point of being immortal if it meant leaving you all over again? The minute all this blew over, I came back to you. Should I leave now?" His heart was pounding in anticipation of her response, but he had to know. He felt what her answer was going to be, but he wanted to hear her say it; he needed to hear her say it.

Buffy closed her eyes to fight the tears that were starting to well. She drew him close and breathed him in, her arms pulling him intimately against her body. "No," she whispered, the wetness spilling onto her cheeks and staining his shirt. "No, please don't go." Her tears seemed silly, but her feelings had simply overwhelmed her. Spike had become the only man for her, and she'd felt his absence keenly; the thought of his leaving again broke the walls that had begun to surround her heart since he'd left. If her saying so would keep him here, she'd say it every single minute of the day.

Spike closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. It was as if he'd been holding his breath the entire time he'd been here. They'd kissed and joked and laughed, but he wasn't sure how she'd truly felt towards him. Now, in each other's arms, he was comforted and reassured. He knew.

He cupped her face in his hands, pushing back her hair and gently brushing her tears away. She smiled wanly and tried to laugh away the tension, but the serious intensity in his eyes made her flesh tingle.

He leaned in, she leaned in, both eyes fluttered shut, and then their lips touched, tasted, loved. Their kisses were salty but sweet, and the bodies imitated their lips in the timeless intimate dance. Spike held her face tenderly, cherishing her form, before running his fingers through her hair and down her body.

Buffy moaned quietly as she felt his touch skitter down her body. His hands made her feel so precious and yet so fiery--the tender heat was a combination that was intensely unique to her moments with Spike. Her own fingers lightly fluttered against his tight chest, and she tugged at his shirt, not wanting the clothing to impede her contact with his skin. He followed suit, and Buffy femininely curled her back as the shirt slowly slid up her torso, over head and down her arms. And then their lips touched again, sizzling with each contact.

He lowered her onto the bed, each kiss decadent and worshipful. There were no fantasy scenarios, no pretend lust or contrived situations. This was pure, cherished lovemaking. It made her heart ache; it made his soul sing. Clothes disappeared, and still they kissed, tasting the affection and tenderness infused with each touch. Their movements were slow, languorous, yet replete with desire.

He touched her sex, and she pulsed in sensation. She nibbled at his neck, and he groaned with urgency. He entered her, and she whimpered in delight. She tightened around him, and he squeezed her body. Their sensual choreography continued, acting and reacting to each new sensation. The music quickened its pace, and the dreamy dance began to swirl faster, spin crazily, climb frantically, until they shattered into innumerable cries of satisfaction.

Sweaty, tired, and fully sated, they fell asleep in the comfort of each other's arms.

Epilogue

She was laughing, her eyes crinkling with pleasure as she lounged in his robe. The past weeks had been perfect, more satisfying than he could have even created with his own powers. They'd moved in together, he'd met her friends and family, and time was only ripening their love for each other. Even now, when he saw her every day and slept with her every night, his heart thrilled every single time she smiled; now was the time, and he couldn't resist. The setting swirled, and Buffy found herself by a beautiful waterfall surrounded by pink orchids and the sounds of exotic birds. Though she'd gotten used to his genie powers, he usually warned her before using them. She turned to Spike a quizzical look--and then gasped when she saw him on his knees.

"Marry me," he said simply, the diamond ring twinkling in the bright sun and the reflecting waters.

Her eyes widened and then rivaled the diamond with glittering delight. She sank to her knees before him and crushed his mouth with her own.

With a silly smile on her face, she nodded and replied, "Your wish is my command."

THE END





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