Spike finally awakened late that evening – alone on Buffy’s bed…and amazingly, still fully clothed. He sat up quickly, looking around the room for his mate, a vague sense of alarm building up in his stomach as a sick ache.
He knew in a part of his mind that it was over – they were safe now, and at home – but he still couldn’t help the reaction of uncertainty that had become second nature to him over the course of the past few days, as his eyes scanned the room for Buffy, confirming that she was not there.
He had just decided to get up and go find her, when she suddenly appeared in the open doorway, blocking out the bright light from the hallway – much brighter than the single dim light that lit her room. She was holding a steaming mug in her hand that did not smell nearly as nice as the smiling girl who was carrying it.
It amazed him – and frightened him a bit, truth be told – how much better he felt just at the sight of her.
The traumatic memories of what the Slayer had done in her body were far from vanished from his mind – though the knowledge that the Slayer demon was bound for good, in combination with the sense of empowerment and strength that he had gained from his confrontation with his sire, went a long way towards taking most of the fear out of them.
Still, there were moments when his stomach gave an odd sort of involuntary lurch, in moments when he saw her and hadn’t been expecting to – as if a subconscious part of him was still just the slightest bit afraid of her. But on the other hand, most of the time, the claim that bound them as mates made her presence a comfort to him, rather than a fear. Being separated from her was far more troubling to him than having her near.
It was the strangest, most contradictory state of emotions he had ever found himself in.
“Hey,” she said softly. “You’re awake.”
“Am I?” he replied mildly, his lips quirking up in the hint of a teasing smile, as he visibly relaxed back against the headboard a bit. “I hadn’t decided yet whether or not you were just a lovely dream.”
Her smile softened at the romantic compliment, as she entered the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She turned to face him and moved slowly toward him, holding out the steaming cup. “Breakfast?” she offered softly.
He accepted the mug, balancing it carefully as he slid over across the bed to make room for her to sit down beside him. “Where’s Mum and Bit?”
Buffy felt a warm rush of affection at the sound of the familiar, intimate reference to her family. “Sleeping. Again. *Finally*.” She frowned slightly, rolling her eyes as she watched him down the contents of the mug as if it was medicine, and not a meal.
He *had* told her before how foul pig’s blood tasted in comparison to the human blood he had been accustomed to. And *that* was another topic she’d rather not think about at the moment, she thought with a little grimace of distaste that he, thankfully, did not notice.
“Again?” he echoed by way of a question, meeting her eyes as he set the empty mug down on the bedside table.
“Yeah. They were awake in the kitchen when I got up – and apparently felt the relentless need to harass me.”
“ ‘Bout what?” Spike asked innocently, trying to suppress his smirk at the tell-tale blush that colored her cheeks – making it all too obvious just exactly what the topic of Joyce’s and Dawn’s teasing had been.
Buffy opened her mouth to respond – before she noticed the sly look of amusement on his face. “Jerk,” she muttered petulantly, swatting at his arm lightly. “What do you think? You! You and the nonexistent boinking that they think we indulged in after about forty-eight hours straight of fighting for our very lives.”
“So – I take it you *didn’t* ravish me in my sleep this morning, then?”
Buffy laughed softly as she edged in nearer to her mate, wrapping her arms around him and nestling her head in the crook of his neck to give him an affectionate kiss. “Not unless I did it in *my* sleep, too,” she replied after a moment. “I think I was too tired this morning to do much of anything.”
“Right, love, me too,” he conceded quietly, resting his back against the headboard completely and raising his arms to return her embrace. “Still am, truth be told.” He pulled her in closer to him, closing his eyes and simply enjoying the soft, warm nearness of her body to his, as he felt himself sliding back into sleep.
“Are you sure?” she whispered against his skin, barely audible even to his vampire hearing – and a moment later he felt her pulling slightly out of his embrace. He opened his eyes in surprise when he felt the gentle pressure of her lips on his – a very pleasant surprise, drawing him back from the edge of the sleep he had nearly drifted back into.
He immediately closed his eyes again, his hands moving slowly up and down her back as he surrendered to her kiss.
After a moment, Buffy drew back, slightly breathless, lowering her head to his shoulder to whisper against his throat – the soft vibrations of her words sending a tingling sensation through her claiming mark on his neck with the cherished words.
“I love you…”
His head tilted back slightly in invitation, as a quiet little moan of pleasure left his throat and he pulled her instinctively nearer to him, further aroused by the tenderly spoken words. “I love you, Buffy,” he whispered with a deep, aching tenderness in his voice. “So much – I love you…”
Encouraged by his reaction, Buffy moved in closer to him, raising a hand to gently massage the spot just above her mark – and the vampire let out a needy moan of approval.
“I love you, Spike – I love you,” Buffy repeated in a whisper against his skin. Her initially hesitant actions emboldened by his obvious desire, she pushed him down onto his back on the bed, sliding one leg over him to straddle him as she reached to unbutton the soft black shirt he was wearing, her lips meeting his again in an urgent kiss.
She felt his body beneath her respond to her touch, felt the fervency with which he returned her kiss – which was why it completely stunned her when he suddenly jerked back away from her, his hands pushing her gently but firmly away from him as he drew in a shaky gasp of air.
His hands against her were trembling.
“Spike? Sweetie?” she asked with concern, drawing back and forcing herself to focus on the uncertain, wide-eyed expression on his face, rather than her body’s rampant need for him – rather than *his* need that she could still feel pressed against her.
He would not look at her, still drawing in ragged, shaky breaths. “I can’t, Buffy – I can’t,” he admitted softly, bowing his head to press his forehead against her chest. “I’m sorry – I just – not yet – not – not like this…”
Buffy swallowed back her disappointment and hurt, leaning slowly down to kiss his temple in a whisper-soft, gentle brush of her lips against his skin – a silent gesture of tender acceptance and affection. It *did* make it easier for her to know that, despite his honest admission that he simply wasn’t ready, he wasn’t pulling away from her, wasn’t in any way repulsed by her touch.
No – rather, he was clinging to her as if he was drowning, and she was his lifeline.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, rising up off of him and rolling to the side, though her hand at the back of his head guided him to turn with her, so that they were lying side by side on the bed, each cradled in the other’s arms. “It’s all right, Spike. I understand. It’s okay.”
“Right bloody ponce is what I am,” he muttered against her, and she could hear the tears in his voice, feel the cool moisture as it soaked through her shirt. “Pathetic stupid git…”
“No,” she insisted softly. “No, you’re not. Spike – I did some terrible things to you – and you can argue that in a big way it wasn’t really me – but it was this *body* that did those things to you, Spike. How can I possibly blame you…?”
“I’m your mate, Buffy,” he cut in, his voice quiet but firm, as he raised his head to look her in the eye, his expression one of resignation and regret. “You didn’t really – didn’t really mean any harm…and it’s bloody well over now…you shouldn’t have to deal with this…”
“Yes,” she argued emphatically, holding his gaze with a tender, reassuring smile. “That’s *exactly* what I should have to do. What we both need to do is to ‘deal with this’, Spike. And if you don’t necessarily feel like jumping right into bed with me again, five minutes after – after everything – that’s completely understandable. I can wait, Spike. I can wait.”
The uncertainty in his eyes softened into gratitude and love, as his crystal blue eyes welled with tears, and he lowered his head to rest against her breast again. “Thank you,” he whispered, so soft that she could barely hear the words. “Thank you, Buffy.”
“We’re gonna fix this, Spike,” she reassured him, running her fingers slowly through his hair in a soothing motion, as her mother’s earlier words came back to her mind, “but we’re gonna do it on *your* terms, Sweetheart. We’re gonna take as much time as you need until we make this right, okay? In fact – if you don’t want me to touch you…I won’t…you just say the word, and I’ll…”
“No,” he objected, his voice quiet, hoarse with emotion, as his hands instinctively closed on her arms, holding her close to him. “No, I – I need you, Buffy. I – I need you to touch me…I just…just can’t…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head slightly, unable to find words.
“Okay,” she agreed immediately. “Okay – whatever you need, Spike – whatever you need.”
A soft knock on the bedroom door drew them out of the intensity of the moment, and Spike reluctantly released her, rolling over onto his side, facing away from the door, and pulling her blankets up over him, in order to appear to be asleep.
Apparently, he had no intention of facing whoever was at the door, with his face tear-streaked, and his emotions so close to the surface.
Buffy sighed as she sat up and got off the bed, calling softly, “Who is it?” as she approached the door.
If Dawn was just being nosy again…
“It’s Mom, Buffy,” Joyce’s voice was a bit muffled through the wooden door. “I need to talk to you for a second.”
“Be right back, Spike,” she assured him softly, as she slipped out of the bedroom door and into the hallway, closing the door behind her again.
Spike just lay there in the bed and tried to compose his scattered emotions.
A few moments later, Buffy came back into the room, heaving a weary sigh as she lay back down on the bed behind him, wrapping her arm around him and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Gotta get up, Sweetie,” she informed him reluctantly. “Giles just called – he’s back in town. And he’s insisting that we meet right away. He says it’s super important.” She was quiet, waiting for him to respond – concerned when he said nothing.
“Spike?” she whispered hesitantly.
“He *said* ‘it’s super important’?”
The gentle mockery in his voice as he mimicked her words, clearly doubtful that such words could have come out of the mouth of her Watcher, took her by surprise – but filled her with a sense of relief, following the emotional breakdown they had just been through.
“Stupid vampire,” she muttered playfully, her hand reaching down around him to lightly tickle his ribcage.
He laughed, pulling away from her with a playful growl of protest – before suddenly turning over quickly and pinning her hands to the bed, smiling down at her with warmth and affection in his laughing eyes.
She couldn’t help but laugh too, squirming beneath him in a half-hearted attempt to escape his gently restraining hands.
Suddenly – she felt incredibly better.
Their laughter faded slowly into a sweet, comfortable silence, their locked eyes communicating more than words could have – before the blonde vampire slowly lowered his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, softly, and very thoroughly.
When he pulled back to allow her to breathe, looking her in the eyes again, Buffy gave him a tender smile, full of hope and relief – and an unspeakable amount of love.
“We’re really gonna be okay – aren’t we?” she realized in a soft, wondering sort of voice, her smile widening slowly with her rising hope.
Spike gazed at her for a long moment, returning her smile, before nodding slowly.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly, his voice a bit surprised, but certain. “Yeah – we are.”
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