A/N: Okay, so you know how you haven’t heard from me since I updated PA last? Well, this freakin’ chapter was why. Two weeks in the making, my darlings. I just hope it lives up to all the hype. Enjoy. ~Jae
Love you, Spike.
He was a jumble of emotions from the moment she had uttered those words. At some point, he knew he would be hearing them come from her, he just hadn’t been expecting it then. Even if he had been, it probably would have had the same effect.
It was happiness and absolute fear rolled into this one throbbing beat, a steady hum of hope and dread. It was a bright, warm feeling in his chest and a sinking freeze in the pit of his stomach. It was nothing that he thought it would be and more than he could have ever dreamed of.
Buffy loved him. She may not have been conscious when she’d said it, but he doubted it no less. Suddenly, things were quite clear.
There was a time when love was an unwanted emotion. Love meant weakness and submission, an excuse to be taken advantage of. How many times had he heard his mother say that she wasn’t going to leave his abusive, son of a bitch father because she loved him? How many times had his father apologized and professed his undying love, begging forgiveness for hurting her?
Of course, his father had never loved Anne. What had started out as a quick roll in the hay had turned into a marriage soon after she found out she was pregnant with William. Back then, it wasn’t so uncommon for people to get married to avoid the stigma of an out-of-wedlock child, especially those who had high social standing like his father’s family had. Marriage to Anne had been forced upon Alistair Pratt and he never let her forget it.
As a young child, William had learned that love was a bad word. Love gave his father permission to treat his mother the way he had. Love was the excuse used whenever his mother had to explain why his father beat him black and blue. Spike could still remember her soft cooing while she wrapped a bandage around his tiny little ribs when he was four, telling him how much his father loved him and that everything would be okay.
It was better to keep love out of things. Less complicated that way.
Women had come and gone from his life. Most of them were not spared a second thought after he left their apartment or motel room or where ever they had managed to get it on. A few of them had been steady booty calls, like Faith, but he had never been attached to any of them.
He knew men who used every line in the book to get a woman to sleep with them, even going as far as to say they loved them. Spike had never had any trouble with just telling the truth. ’Nothing serious’, ’no strings attached’, ’only physical’, no matter how brutally honest he was, the ladies still flocked to him like he was God’s gift.
He enjoyed women. He’d been with young ones and older ones, tall ones and short ones, blonds and brunettes. Sexually frustrated wives, slightly experienced mid-western co-eds, kinky girls from Vegas (and everywhere else), shy and sweet, wild and willing. The sex was interesting and surprising.
And yet, when he thought of Buffy, all of his exploits made him sick to his stomach. He wasn’t worthy of her love and devotion, not when he was so tainted. There was nothing about him that wasn’t damaged and torn.
What if he wasn’t able to love? Perhaps what he had thought was a conscious decision to keep his emotions out of his ‘relationships’ was really his rationalization for his inability to feel anything. Could he honestly say he had cared for any of those women? The answer was a cold, hard no. Beyond the comfort of their bodies, he felt nothing for them.
But when he was with Buffy… The feeling was indescribable. It was so much more than a physical reaction, it was… Even now, he struggled to make sense of it. How could one tiny girl make him feel so much when all he had really ever known was numbness or anger?
Love. What did that even mean? It was used often enough in daily life. Well, not in his daily life, but he heard it all the time. Did everyone who said it really mean it? That, he would guess, was a no. His father said it and Spike knew the bastard hadn’t ever meant it. Buffy had said it…
Buggering hell, he didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Buffy frowned as she glanced at Spike and Xander sitting on the couch, watching a boxing match on television.
“He’s acting like I don’t even exist, Anya,” Buffy said miserably.
Anya flipped the page of her magazine before looking up. “Well, that’s pretty normal. There are manly sports on.”
“So, then its okay for him to completely ignore me? That’s not right.”
“I never said it was okay. That’s just the way it is.” Anya popped a potato chip in her mouth and washed it down with some iced tea. “Face it, Buffy; men can only focus on one thing at a time. Right now that one thing is two men beating each other to a bloody pulp.”
Shaking her head, Buffy sighed. “That’s the problem though. He’s been ignoring when there are no sports on TV.”
“If there are half-naked women on TV, they tend to focus on that too.”
“Anya, there is no TV.”
“Huh? You have a TV. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this past week. I’m talking about how Spike hardly even talks to me now.” Buffy’s gaze fell to her lap, her hands fidgeting restlessly. “I don’t think he likes me anymore.”
Anya’s brow furrowed as she looked over at Spike then back to Buffy. “Spike doesn’t like you anymore? Ha! That’s pretty stupid.”
“What?”
“Stupid. You do know what stupid means, right?”
“Yeah, but why-”
“Spike is crazy about you, Buffy. It’s obvious to the rest of us, so if you can’t see it then you must either be blind or stupid,” Anya said bluntly.
Buffy couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. Frustration surged through her and she wanted to scream. Why was it that everyone was so sure of Spike’s feelings for her when it felt like he just wanted her to go away?
It had started the morning after their meeting with Faith. He had begun to put a very tangible distance between them, spending more and more time in his room with the door shut and not wanting to do things with her. At first, she thought he just needed a little space, but as the days rolled by, she became worried that there was something else going on.
She had tried to talk to him on a couple of different occasions, but he brushed her off every time, telling her that they’d talk about it later. But later never came and she was left still wondering what she’d done wrong this time.
“Then why doesn’t he want to be around me?”
Anya shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he has a lot on his mind. When Xander is stressed out about work, he has trouble performing.”
“This has nothing to do with sex, Anya,” Buffy replied through clenched teeth.
“Everything has to do with sex.”
Buffy threw her hands up in the air. She couldn’t win with this woman.
Maybe she has a point, a voice inside her head said.
No, that was ridiculous. Spike wanted to wait, right? That’s what he had told her. He was the one who had turned her down in the first place, so that couldn’t be the reason.
Suddenly, it dawned on her. He had been fine until she’d had her little breakdown after getting back from the police station. God, she must have freaked him out or something. He probably thought she was too needy or just too much trouble. She’d read somewhere that men didn’t like needy women. That must be the reason. It had to be!
Xander handed some money to his wife before giving her a kiss on the cheek, then he watched as she and Buffy made their way down the stairs. He shut the door and turned to his friend.
“Alright, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” He asked, walking towards the couch.
Spike didn’t answer for a long time; he just stared at the floor like there wasn’t a single thought in his mind. Something was going on and Xander was bound and determined to find out what.
“Hello? Earth to the bleached wonder.” Xander waved his hand in front of Spike’s face, hoping to break him out of whatever trance he was in.
Snapping to attention, Spike slowly turned to face him. “She said it.”
“Er, okay. She as in…Buffy? And she said, uh, what?”
“You know,” Spike replied, his eyebrows wiggling further and further up his forehead.
“Oh, you mean she said- Ohhhh! She said that.” Suddenly it all made sense. No wonder the guy was spooked.
Spike nodded. “Yeah.”
“So, what did you do?” Please don’t say you laughed in the poor girl’s face or something. I’d have to kick your ass for that.
“Nothing. I just laid there.”
Xander’s eyes bugged out. “She said it during sex?”
“What?” Spike jumped a little. “No! No, she was…I was….we were sleeping on the couch.”
“Ah, I see. So there was no sex then?”
Spike gave him a pointed look. “You and your wife are a pair matched in heaven, mate.”
“So…” Xander leaned forward like the motion was supposed to entice Spike into giving up the story.
“No. No sex. We haven’t…gone there yet.”
Interesting. He had known Spike for years, ever since the guy had moved over from England and into the apartment across the hallway. Not once had Xander ever seen Spike get attached to a woman. He’d never introduced any of them to his friends or even really spoke of them.
That’s how Xander knew Buffy was different.
Okay, so he had to be honest, the fact that she was only sixteen really squigged him out, but he also had to say that she didn’t act like any sixteen year old girl he’d ever known. Besides, Spike hadn’t intended to get involved with Buffy. It just happened that way.
“You’re not sayin’ much,” Spike commented after a couple of minutes.
Xander blinked. “Just surprised, I guess. I mean, no offense, but you’re not exactly a paragon of virtue, Spike. I figured you would have…you know, already.”
Letting out a snort, Spike shook his head. “Yeah, I’m a bit shocked myself.”
“Have you asked her about it yet?”
“What? Sex?”
Now it was Xander’s turn to roll his eyes. “About her feelings, stupid.”
Spike shook his head. “I don’t know what t’ say.”
“You could just ask.”
Xander was a little confused. Spike didn’t have trouble just coming out and saying whatever was on his mind. What was the big deal?
“Oh, I get it! If you ask her, she’s gonna want to know how you feel too and, let me guess, you have no freaking clue, do you?” Xander pointed at him.
“I-” Spike’s mouth snapped shut. “She shouldn’t. I’m a soddin’ bastard and she shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t what? Love you?” Xander took a deep breath. “Dude, I hate to tell you, but you have no say in how she feels about you. You can tell her to not love you, you can tell her that you are the biggest asshole on the planet and all you’re going to do is hurt her, hell, you can tell her you suddenly have an interest in other men, but it won’t matter. If she loves you, nothing you say is going to make one bit of difference.
“Besides, what makes you so horrible, anyway? I’ve known you for a long time, Spike, and I’ve gotta say, you’re not a bad guy. And if you care for her half as much as I think you do, then you deserve her.”
“I don’t want t’ hurt her.”
“Then don’t,” Xander told him.
Buffy stared at the stark white ceiling above her bed and tried hard not to cry. Things hadn’t gotten any better after she and Anya had returned from the store. Spike still continued to stare at the stupid television and never even said a word to her.
They had walked from the Harris’ apartment in complete silence, Buffy lagging behind Spike as he made a quick pace across the lawn. Once they had arrived back at their own apartment, he muttered a good night and went to his room, leaving Buffy standing in the middle of the living room, completely lost.
She glanced at the alarm clock, sighing in frustration. It was almost two o’clock and sleep was just not coming. No matter how hard she tried her thoughts wouldn’t quiet down.
What was going to happen now? Would he want her to leave? Where would she go? Why was this happening?
Throwing the covers off, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t lie there and wonder what he was going to do next. If something bad was going to happen, she wanted to know.
She tiptoed across her room and opened her door slowly, peering out into the hallway. There weren’t any lights on that she could see, so she moved down the hall to Spike’s bedroom door.
Her heart was beating a mile a minute. What was she going to say? Suddenly, she couldn’t move, her feet firmly rooted into the hardwood floor. Looking down, she noticed the faint glow of light seeping underneath the door. That meant he was awake…or had fallen asleep with the light on.
“Just knock on the door, Buffy,” she whispered to herself, willing her body into motion.
The feeling in her arms returned and she raised her fist, knocking softly. Instead of waiting for a response, she cracked the door open.
Spike was sitting in the middle of his bed with photos and other bits of memorabilia spread around him, clad in only black drawstring pants. The pair of wire-rimmed glasses she had seen him use a week ago were perched on his nose as he studied a picture in his hand.
“Spike?” Her voice sounded high and weak.
He looked up at her, a shocked expression coloring his face. “Buffy? Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”
“No-I-Well, um…”
“What is it, pet?”
She took a deep breath, preparing herself. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, why would I want you t’ leave?” Spike slid off the bed and walked over to her, his hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. “What’s goin’ on, luv?”
The tears that had been free-flowing earlier came back in full force. “You don’t want me anymore!” She cried.
His bright blue eyes widened. “Who told you that?”
“I don’t know what I did, but I can fix it. I swear, just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll make it better. I won’t cry anymore, I promise,” she said frantically, wiping her tears away with the heels of her hands and sniffling loudly. “Look, see, no more crying!”
Spike stood there dumbfounded, trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on. Not much was making sense, but somehow Buffy had gotten it in her head that he didn’t want her anymore. Somehow she had-
Fuck!
This was all his bloody fault! A thousand different images swept through his mind, each one depicting him being a complete asshole to her, ignoring her, pushing her away. He had been so sodding concerned with his own damn feelings, he’d never stopped to think about what all of his self-reflection was doing to Buffy. Fuck, why was he always mucking things up?
“Buffy, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong,” he told her, brushing the wet strands of her hair back. “You could never do anythin’ wrong.”
“Then why? Why haven’t you wanted to be around me?” She asked, bewildered.
He ran a hand over his face, cursing himself. “I just needed some time, luv. I didn’t mean t’ make you think I didn’t want you. “
“Time for what?”
Ah, the moment of truth. It was every bit as hard as he thought it was going to be and then some.
He grabbed her hand and led her to the bed, sitting her down on the edge as he kneeled down in front of her.
“Can I ask you somethin’, pet?”
She bit her lip as she thought about it for a minute. “Yes.”
“How do you feel about me?” His heart started to pound the minute the words left his lips. There would be no turning back after this.
“You’ve done so much for me, Spike. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here,” she replied.
He smiled. “I know you’re grateful, Buffy. You tell me everyday. What I want t’ know is what are your…feelings for me?”
Her eyes were wide and glassy and a little gasp escaped her throat. “What? I-I don’t…”
“Do you love me?”
Buffy looked down at their intertwined hands and swallowed hard. “Yes,” she murmured, nodding her head slightly.
“Oh, Buffy, I-”
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I know that you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t help it.”
Spike reached out and tilted her chin up, holding her gaze. “Don‘t ever be sorry for that, luv. You don‘t know what it means that you…” A shaky breath filled his lungs as he gazed into her eyes. His head tilted to one side, giving him a new angle to study her at. He had so much to say, but the words seemed to lodge themselves in his throat. “I’m so bloody confused, that’s the truth of it, Buffy. I don’t know what it is that I’m feelin’.”
“It’s okay. I understand. I knew that you didn’t-”
“No, you don’t understand,” he told her roughly. With an expletive hidden not quite so well under his breath, he ran his hand through his hair. How could he explain it to her when he couldn’t even explain it to himself? “You make me feel somethin’, Buffy. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there. All the bloody time. I can’t get you outta my mind, outta my blood. I’m drownin’ in you.”
“I’m sor-”
He stood suddenly. “Dammit, Buffy! Stop sayin’ you’re fuckin’ sorry! If anyone should be sayin’ sorry, it’s me. I’m no soddin’ good at this.”
“And I am?” She cried. “This is all new to me too, you know. But I can’t just turn off my feelings.”
“Neither can I.”
“You can, too! All of those women you-”
“They weren’t you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t feel anythin’ for them because they weren’t you. Nothin’ t’ turn off.”
“You didn’t even know me then.”
Spike smiled softly. “Doesn’t matter. I knew they weren’t the right ones. Somewhere in here-” He patted his chest, his palm colliding with the place where his heart was. “-I knew. I never felt with them the way I feel when I’m with you.”
“How do…you…feel when…you’re with…me?” Her voice was trembling as she tried to allay her twitching hands.
His jaw clenched tightly. How he longed to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he had promised not to lie to her. And while it may not be a complete lie, it still wasn’t a truth in his mind. If he couldn’t even admit it to himself, then he shouldn’t be admitting it to her.
He moved forward and fell to his knees in front of her. His strong, calloused hands explored her face, his fingertips tracing the curves of her lips, of her cheekbone, of her eyelids as they fluttered shut.
“I can’t say it, Buffy. It’s…too bloody soon for me. You’ve been healin’ me, but I’m still a broken man.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, tasting her salty tears and sweetness. “I want to. God, how I want t’ love you. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”
Her hazel green eyes popped open at his admission and his heart skidded to a halt at the wonder and awe he saw reflected in their depths.
“That’s not true, Spike. You’ve given me so mu-” Her voice faltered, but instead of shyly looking away, she smiled brightly. “You’ve given me everything.”
Oh, he didn’t know about that. In his mind, he was still falling short of his own expectations when it came to her. He certainly wasn’t doing enough to keep her safe and if these past weeks were any indication, he’d done a piss-poor job at keeping her happy, too. Not that it surprised him much since he was well aware of the fact that he was as emotionally mature as a three year old.
Buffy was all emotion and he was dead inside except for the slow burn of flames that she seemed to stoke with just her mere presence. It was no wonder they had such issues with relating to one another beyond the tragic turns their lives had taken. He’d never been a teenager in his life, growing up much too fast to experience the trials and tribulations of adolescence (of course, from what he’d heard, he wasn’t missing much there). What the bloody hell did he know about how teenagers thought or felt?
“I love you, Spike.”
His chest felt heavy and full. It was a strange sensation, almost as if a void had been filled with something warm and tangible when he hadn’t even realized that there was a hole there to begin with. It spread through his veins, coursing along with his blood and circulating throughout his whole body.
He clutched at his heart, his eyes shutting tightly against the tingle and simmer that flowed through him. Was he losing it? It was too much for him to take and he thought for sure his sanity was slipping away.
“Are…are you okay?” Buffy asked, concerned, her hand coming up to touch his shoulder. “You’re not having a heart attack or something, are you?”
A low, rumbling laughter tumbled out of his chest, filling him with more of the same strange feeling. “No, luv. I’m a bit young for one o’ those just yet.”
The cute little crease between her eyebrows formed clearly. “Oh. I just…you were holding your chest and…”
Her voice trailed off as he brought her hand to cover his heart. “Beatin’ hard an’ fast, yeah?”
She nodded, her fingers splaying across his hot skin. Spike hissed at the feel of her, suddenly, getting very aroused. Just from her bloody hand? God, you are such a git!
“So, it’s okay, then?”
Huh? “What’s that, luv?”
A nervous smile played at her lips as she glanced at the floor. “You know. The whole ‘I love you’ thing,” she replied. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and winced involuntarily.
It had taken him an entire week to get that question answered. Many sleepless nights and uncomfortable days were spent just thinking about it. All that time and all he had really figured out was that nothing had ever seemed so right before. Now, exactly what that meant, he hadn’t a sodding clue, but one thing was for sure, it was certainly okay. It was more than okay.
“Because I was thinking…maybe…”
He cocked his head to the side. “’Maybe’ what?”
“It’s okay if you love someone.”
“Of course it’s okay t’ love someone, pet.”
She shook her head and Spike couldn’t help the confusion swirling around in his head. Was this some sort of teenaged code talk or was he just that dense?
With a deep breath, Buffy sat up and looked him straight in the eye. “If you love someone, it’s okay to have sex with them.”
Nope, not code talk. He really was just that dense.