[Reviews - 124]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4378 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Nine

She woke up to the birds chirping noisily outside her window and the soothing sounds of a guitar strumming on the porch. A guitar strumming… Huh? At first, she didn't comprehend what was happening, then the events of the other day came crashing back towards her, violently jarring her awake.

What was that sound? The guitar was joined by an all-too-familiar voice. Spike. Buffy yawned and stretched her arms high above her head before swinging her feet to the side of her bed and slowly padding over to the window.

She pulled the curtains back a fraction of an inch and tentatively peered outside. Sure enough, there sat Spike on the steps of her front porch with a guitar resting under his arm and propped up by a knee.

Her heart swelled and for a moment there, she almost forgot why she was angry with him. But then, she remembered every word he said to her, everything he had done to her, and stepped away from the window, jerking her hand away from the curtain as if it were scorched.

………

"Want me to make him leave?" Angel asked, not looking up from his newspaper as Buffy made her way to the kitchen.

"No, don't worry about it," she shook her head and grabbed some milk from the refrigerator. She poured it in a tall glass cup and sighed, "He'll leave if we just ignore him."

Angel raised his eyes over the edge of the paper and studied her for a moment before shrugging, "If you say so."

………

Two hours later

Buffy sighed. Spike was still sitting on her porch steps with his guitar, singing his heart out. Occasionally, she would recognize a love song and despite how hard she would try not to, she'd find herself smiling. She carefully pulled at the blinds of the window and let herself stare at the sight of his smooth face and his lean body leaning against a wooden column. He didn't look like he had gotten much rest the night before; his peroxide hair was a curled mess on his head and his clothes were wrinkled and unkempt.

The sun was beginning to burn up something fierce and finally, she decided that it was time to talk to him because he obviously wasn't going to let up.

………

Spike looked up when the screen door creaked open and Buffy stepped out. Her hair wasn't brushed and there was not a trace of makeup on her face, but the sight of her still made his heart rush.

She sat down on the step next to him and wrapped her arms around her folded legs as he kept singing and staring straight at her.

"Morning, love," he smiled slightly when he finished the song and set the guitar to the side.

"Yeah," she nodded, picking absentmindedly at the fray of her denim cut-off shorts. "Morning. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk."

Buffy bit her lower lip and leaned back on the column holding up the stair rail. "What if I'm not ready?"

"I'm willing to wait," he told her, looking straight into her green eyes. She didn't answer him right away, just held his gaze for a few moments.

Something about him made her want to run towards him and just give up the fight with her heart. Succumbing would be so easy, but she knew that easy wasn't the right way out. But the way he was looking at her; it was different. The sky was reflected in the blue of his eyes and the fortress that had always guarded them was gone today.

"But how long are you willing to wait?" her voice softened. She had cried herself to sleep the night before with the image of Spike and Drusilla imprinted into her mind. She had also run through his words over and over again until everything was thoroughly messed up in her head.

"As long as I need to," he answered, lowering his voice as well. "I'd wait at your doorstep forever if I needed to."

She wasn't used to the tender quality of his voice and hearing it scared her a little. This was a game she had never played - it wasn't the defensive Spike, the one that hurt her, the one who had built walls around his heart so that even she couldn't penetrate them.

"Why?" she asked. Spike inched closer to her until his knees were centimeters away from her feet. She tightened her grip around her legs in a protective stance.

"Buffy," he started, then took a deep breath. "I've lived for years just hidden away. I've pushed so many people away - you know that because I've pushed you away as well. I'm tired of pushing, love. Especially you… God, the things I've said to you…"

He broke off, sucking air in and biting down hard on his cheeks. Buffy waited for him to continue. "The things I've said you … they're unforgivable. I know that. At first, this thing that we had… I tried to make it not mean anything. But every single minute we spent together, I kept - you kept pulling me in. And I wasn't sure what it was at first, you know? I was scared. I didn't know what you wanted from me. You told me you loved me, but I - I didn't know what to do…

"So, I got this done," he gestured to his face. "I thought it'd make me feel like a man again. I thought it'd make you want me more, or something. Bloody stupid, I'll admit that."

Buffy cut him off, "You never asked. If you had asked me first, I would have told you that it wouldn't matter. Your scars, they were a part of you, Spike. But no, you just went and - and you didn't even call to say goodbye, didn't even leave a note. Then all of a sudden, you blow back into town and you're with Drusilla! Nothing you do makes sense! You're like - I don't know! I've given up trying to decode you."

"That's just the thing though, love!" Spike grabbed her hands, ignoring her when she tried to pull away. "I'm through with all the, uh, cryptic messages. I've… reformed! Done a one-eighty, yeah? I want to be better a better man."

Buffy slowly exhaled and relaxed her hands in his grasp. "Why?" She asked softly, barely hearing herself.

Spike simply looked at her. "You know why."

She shook her head. "I'm not so sure I do. There's so much about you that I don't know, there's so much that I'm afraid to know - " She swallowed and tried to gain composure. "I think I fell in love with the idea of you…"

Spike waited for her to finish, tightening his hold on her fingers.

After a shuddery breath, she went on, "When I first saw you, you were like… this god that everyone - every girl - wanted. I became, I don't know… it was so long ago. But then after the accident, I thought everyone abandoned you, and I fell in love with the idea that I'd be the one who'd be there, you know? I thought I'd turn you back into the man you were just by being there for you. It's a child's dream, I know. I never realized how much it'd hurt… all those times I thought I was in love with you… it's been the idea all along."

"Try to love the man, Buffy?" Spike silently pleaded, pulling her closer to him. Their faces were inches apart and she started to wonder if the heat she was feeling was from the high sun or the man next to her… "Please? It's a lot to ask, but… without you, I don't know how to live. I need you."

A part of her wanted to just let him hold her. It would be so soothing to just feel his arms around her and close her eyes. But then, the rational, more balanced section of her brain protested.

"What about your Drusilla?" She said, her voice wavering slightly. It wasn't supposed to sound so insecure and it wouldn't have if she wasn't so vulnerable at the moment.

Spike almost smiled at the jealous undertones in her voice, "She's not my Drusilla. We're not together, we'll never be together, and I wouldn't want to go back to her when I know how it feels to be with someone so much better - "

"Seemed pretty 'together' last night to me," Buffy muttered, then winced. She hadn't exactly planned to say that out loud.

He widened his eyes, "That was… I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to make you jealous and it really was bloody, bloody bad idea - "

She cut him off, "Why did she know you were back before I did?"

"My idiot of a sister called her and she was just waiting at the airport - I had no idea that she'd be there. I mean it."

He let go of her hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Buffy tensed at the contact before letting herself relax against his light touch. She looked into his eyes and saw a pool of hope laced with worry, distress, and something more; she wondered if it was possible for one person to show so much emotion without saying a word. Then she wondered what the past few years had been like for him. Years of self-induced seclusion, years of hate and anguish at a couple of scars. A wrecked up face.

It was vain, but in the time she had known Spike, to say that he was vain was an understatement. But then, it was a part of him and she couldn't hate it, no matter how hard she tried.

At one point, she thought that she could erase the pain all by herself. That slowly, he'd come out of his little world or let her in; either would have been fine. Was she so stupid to believe so much in herself?

Without a word, she angled her body so it was facing him and pulled his head down to meet hers in a gentle kiss.

Was it so wrong that a simple kiss could affect her so much? It made her want to forget the past few days - weeks - and just cling onto him.

She felt the soft tip of his warm tongue caress her lower lip, trying to deepen the kiss. His arms had wrapped around her and was pulling her slowly onto his lap as he stroked her back and tangled one hand in her hair.

Too much. Too soon

Buffy broke away, leaving Spike with his eyes closed, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Buffy…" his voice came out a ragged whisper, warm breath tickling her face. It was a whine, a plea, and a question all in one. God, she loved that about him - how one word could mean a million.

She pressed her lips to the hollow of his cheeks lightly before answering.

"I don't know if I'm ready for you, yet."





You must login (register) to review.