“Can I talk with you?” Spike asked Dr. Giles nervously, his feet shuffling in anticipation.
Dr. Giles peered at him over his glasses, “Of course. Why don’t you come into my office? Are you seeing Buffy today?”
“Yeah, I am. I wanted to talk to you before I did that though.”
Nodding, Dr. Giles led him into his office and gestured for him to sit down. Spike decided instead to pace. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced over at the good doc, waiting patiently in his chair for him to start talking.
“Am I making her worse?” Spike blurted out, stopping his pacing finally, his hand still on the back of his neck.
“You think you’re making her worse?”
Throwing his hands up in the air, Spike growled. “Don’t do that bit where you answer my questions with a question!”
“Forgive me, but that question most certainly confused me.”
“It did?”
“Yes. I don’t think you make her worse, Spike. I think you are what she needs. You make it better.”
Relief flooded Spike and he now sat, sinking into the chair with a sigh. “I do?”
“You do.”
“I’m just…” he shook his head. “I feel lost here, Dr. Giles,” and then the tears came. “I don’t know what to do for her. All I do is talk with her and tell her I love her, and I don’t know if that’s what she needs.”
“Spike, I am going to tell you what I told Buffy. Part of my job is to lead her to the things that are good for her, and lead her away from the things that are bad. If I thought that you were bad for her, I would not give you permission to see her. I run a tight ship with my patients and their care is number one priority.”
“Good,” Spike said nodding, “Good. I’m glad. I want her to have the best care. I want her,” he broke off, trying to reign in his emotions. “I want her to be well. I just feel like maybe my own feelings of guilt are evident and it causes her to hesitate.”
“You loved your wife, yes?”
“I did. Not …not the way I love Buffy though.”
“And that causes you guilt?”
“Yes. I reckon there would be a level of guilt attached if I took up with any woman after my wife died, but the fact that it’s her daughter…”
“Have you considered telling Buffy that you love her differently? It might help both of you if you did.”
“It would help her?” Spike asked, eagerly.
“And you,” Dr. Giles. “Words, as Buffy has learned, carry power. With that power is knowledge. Tell me, do you keep a journal?”
“I do.”
“Then you know that when you tell your journal something locked inside of you, it give you a sense of freedom, right?”
“Right.”
“Tenfold when the words are spoken. I’m not suggesting that every thought should be spoken to give it wings and land where it may, but I am suggesting that sometimes there are words we keep inside that need to be spoken. In this case, I think those words need to be told to Buffy.”
Spike nodded slowly, imbibing what Dr. Giles was telling him and wondering if he would ever be able to tell her all that was in his heart, all that was his own journey he’d been on since Joyce’s passing.
“She is a wonderful girl, isn’t she?” Dr. Giles prompted.
Spike smiled immediately. “She is. Though she doesn’t realize it a lot of the time. She talks a good game.”
Dr. Giles chuckled. “Yes, she does. Are you meeting with her now?” he asked, looking up at the clock on the wall.
“I am.”
“Warm in that jacket? Buffy’s taken to spending some time outside.”
“Ever since that balloon exercise?” Spike’s eyes widened. “Shit, was I not supposed to let on that I knew about that?”
Dr. Giles chuckled. “It’s quite all right. While I don’t necessarily always encourage the patient to discuss their sessions with another, sometimes it helps and I understand that. In this case, I do find it helpful for her and you.”
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Spike asked, grinning slightly.
Dr. Giles smiled, “No, Spike. I think you’re a man in love who wants the best for the woman he’s fallen for.”
“Yes,” Spike said, nodding adamantly. “That’s exactly it.”
“And I also think that with time, patience and communication, both of you will heal together. We’re human after all, and we do need others, whether we want to or not.”
Standing, Spike announced, “Well, if you’ll excuse me doc, I have a girl to see about.”
Dr. Giles chuckled. “Yes, and she rather can be an impatient sort, can’t she?”
Spike grinned goofily. “That she can be. Thank you, Dr. Giles.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Spike smiled fondly at Buffy when he saw her all bundled up in her coat, scarf, gloves and hat. “Well, hello Nanook of the North.”
Buffy giggled and then frowned. Touching his jacket, she looked up at him, “You gonna be warm in that? I want to go outside.”
He shrugged, “I’ll survive.”
“Spike, you really need to get something warm if you’re going to be staying here. It’s the dead of winter!” she admonished him as she led him to the door and down the hallway.
“I’ll be fine, kitten.”
Slinging her arm through his, she leaned into him slightly. “How are you?”
He felt on top of the world at the moment, that’s how he was. Buffy was by his side and she had initiated contact by putting her arm through his. Bending his arm slightly, he put his hand over hers. “I’m well. How about you?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Buffy,” he said slowly, and nudged her with his hip.
Stepping outside, after having gained clearance from the nurse on duty, Buffy and Spike made their way out into the frigid air.
“Let’s walk around so you’ll keep warm,” Buffy suggested and started out on the concrete path that made a big rectangular loop in a quad like area smack dab in the middle of the facility.
“Are you avoiding the question?” Spike prodded after a few moments of silence.
“No… maybe. Just a lot on my mind. Go fig. I’m in a mental facility and I’ve got a lot on my mind,” and she started to laugh.
“I hate it when you do that,” Spike grumbled and stopped their jaunt, turning toward her.
“Do what?”
“Make those glib jokes.”
“Spike, it’s how I deal with it. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry.”
“Maybe by laughing when you should be crying, you’re making things worse.”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re all,” she waved a hand in front of him as if assessing him, “tense.”
Running a hand through his hair, Spike let out a frustrated sigh and then threw up his arms off her questioning look. “I don’t know how to be!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know how to be with you. I mean…here I am with all these feelings and here you are…here, and I don’t know how to act. I don’t know if I make things hard for you or easy or anything and—”
Pressing a finger to his lips, Buffy stopped his rant. “Just be you, Spike,” she whispered. “Just be you. That’s what I need you to be.”
Taking her finger from his lips, Spike swooped in and crashed his lips to hers. He felt a rush of tears come at the knowledge that this was Buffy he was kissing, finally. This was where he wanted to be and needed to be all this time. Despite how many things were jumbled around them, the planets aligned themselves in this moment and everything felt right.
“You taste like honey,” he murmured, nibbling on her bottom lip before devouring her mouth again. She was pliable in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck, and he was lifting her up, trying to get her even closer to him. When his tongue dipped in her mouth, she moaned and held him tighter, and the sound elicited a moan from him as well. “God, I love you,” he whispered.
“Mmm…Spike,” she panted, starting to pull away.
“No, not yet,” he pleaded and plundered her mouth once more. God only knew the next time he’d be given such a gift and he was going to partake of it for as long as he could.
Chapter Thirty
Spike held Buffy up against him, not willing to release her for any reason. He was lost in the sensation of finally being able to kiss her and hold her like any normal man in love with his girl would do. Anything outside their bubble mattered not to him.
“Spike,” she gasped, breaking their kiss and burying her face in his throat. She was breathing heavy and for that matter, so was he. Breathing had ceased to matter; all that had mattered was kissing her. Her breath on his neck was only adding onto his excitement. His entire body was breaking out in goose bumps.
“Please, Buffy, don’t tell me you regret that,” he begged her. “Please tell me you didn’t--”
“I didn’t. I don’t,” she whispered.
He held her tighter. “Thank you, thank you,” he chanted, pressing ardent kisses in her hair.
“You’ve literally swept me off my feet,” she laughed nervously.
Peering down, he found the tips of her toes just barely brushing the ground. He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Light as a feather, you are.”
She snorted. “Impossible.”
“It’s not,” he defended.
“I love you,” she said fondly and Spike trembled at the words.
“I love you,” he rasped, “Love you so bleedin’ much, Buffy. I feel like my heart is gonna burst from it, feel like I can’t breathe sometimes for how much I love you.”
“Spike,” she gasped.
“What, baby?” he murmured, stroking a hand under her jacket, rubbing her side, feeling her warmth.
“You’re going to make me cry!”
“How’s that?”
“Because you…no one has ever…and I need you, Spike. I need you to love me.”
“Oh, Buffy, baby, I’m right here and I love you with everything that I am.”
She pulled her head back so she could look up at him, “You know I love you back, right?”
“I know,” he whispered and kissed her again, tasting her salt on his tongue.
“Spike, I need to tell you something…” she trailed off when they’d broken apart. He let her touch Earth fully, but did not let her go. Instead, he pulled her to a nearby bench and pulled her to sit next to him. He wanted her on his lap, but he was harder than nails and didn’t want to scare her or shoot off in his pants.
“Talk to me, luv, tell me what’s on your mind,” he urged, squeezing her hand.
She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, staring at the ground. “I had a dream last night.”
“Oh?” So did I, funny that.
“I dreamt we were uh…you know…doing it.”
“You are blushing at least twenty shades of red,” he teased and caressed her cheek with the back of one hand. “I can’t believe it. I never thought you shied away from just blurting anything out.”
She nudged him with her elbow and he used the opportunity to pull her closer against him, wrapping an arm around her, and pressing a kiss into her hair once more.
“Was I doing something particularly saucy?” he asked huskily.
She laughed, “You’re disgusting.”
“Do you like it?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
He laughed, “Thought you might. So, tell me about this dream.”
“Well…that’s kind of where the fun ends. I don’t mean to throw a cold bucket of water on this shiny happy moment, but my Mom showed up at the end.”
He froze slightly and then forced himself to relax. “Oh?” he prompted as casually as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was make her think it was wrong, or that he was disturbed by it.
“Yeah, she was in the doorway when we were done and I called out to her and then the door slammed. I wanted to tell you because…I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I really am. I…” her voice trembled and Spike pulled her near on his lap and kissed her temple.
“You can tell me anything. Breathe, baby, breathe, okay?” he encouraged her gently.
“I’m trying to…get past it. It doesn’t feel wrong to love you in my heart. It’s just my head that gets all screwy and I think too much and I feel too much…People tend to think I don’t feel anything, that I have no emotion, but that’s not true. I feel like I feel everything, and all at once, and that’s what fucks me up. I keep it all inside and then I just explode.”
“I know you feel, sweetheart. I know you do. I’ve been on the receiving end of that big heart of yours and God, I know you feel. I don’t want you to keep it in anymore, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about anything, Buffy--”
“Some of it is about you!” she exclaimed. “I can’t tell you all that.”
“Why not?” he asked, pouting slightly.
Looking up at him, she giggled and kissed him. “So adorable,” she murmured, sweeping her tongue along his bottom lip.
“Adorable, eh?” he growled and nipped at her lips.
Resting her head on his chest, she sighed. “What’s it like for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“With my mom and me…what’s it like for you?”
Dr. Giles knew what he was talking about was the only thing Spike could think. Buffy was opening the door for him to reveal the exact nature of his feelings for her, what she meant to him and how it was different from her mother. He just hoped that she was in fact prepared to hear it. He was uncertain how to tread here; Dr. Giles had been all for honesty yet, Spike was hesitant. Would she feel offended for her mother to learn that what he felt for her was so much more?
“It’s…precarious,” he said after some time.
She looked up at him curiously, “How?”
Thinking sod it all, Spike swept her legs up and then pulled her onto his lap. She studied him, her head cocked to the side. “Well?” she prompted.
“I’m thinking, woman.”
“Is that what I smell burning?”
He poked her, “Smart ass.”
She smiled cheekily, “Intelligent rear end.”
He grinned and then heaved a sigh, turning serious. “The way I love you and the way I loved your mom is different, Buffy.”
“I would hope so or that would really fuck with my head. And that particular worry already has.”
“It’s not that I didn’t love your mom.”
“I know. You married her after all,” she said quietly, looking down.
“But…your mom…she gave me something I needed at the time.”
She looked back up at him. “What was that?”
“At the time I’d met your mom, I had just lost my parents. I didn’t know what I was doing with my life, just kind of waffling about. When I met Joyce, she gave me some direction, she gave me some guidance, and she gave some unconditional love that I needed.”
“She was like a mom for you,” Buffy stated.
He should have known his girl was smart enough to pick up on that. Nodding slowly, he agreed, “Yes.”
“And me? Cause,” she started to giggle, “I know it’s not my nurturing ways.”
“I just finished telling you that you have a big heart.”
“Yeah, that may be so, but I’m not like her. I’m not open and giving like her. I reserve all that until I feel you’re really worthy.”
“Thank you.” And he pecked her nose.
“For what?” she asked incredulously.
“I must be worthy.”
She smiled, “You are.”
“Buffy, with your mom, I was yes, nurtured. Taken care of. Coddled, some would say. With you, I’m a man standing on my own two feet, asking the big questions, and finding out who I am and what I want. You challenge me. You make me want more for myself; you don’t let me get too big for my britches--”
“Who says that?” she teased.
“I do. I’m being serious here, imp.”
“Sorry. You know how I am. I make jokes when I feel nervous. Continue.”
“What’s to be nervous about?”
“I’m not used to someone singing me praises. You know, that isn’t my mom. I never thought I’d be responsible for all that you say I’m responsible for.”
“For making me want to be a better man?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Man, that’s huge.”
“Nothing you can’t handle, or haven’t handled so far.”
She smiled. “You have a lot of faith in me.”
He nodded, “I do. I wish you had more in yourself.”
“What a coincidence, so do I.”
He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I was afraid to tell you.”
“Tell me…?”
“How I loved you and your mother differently. Buffy…”
“Yeah?”
“I have something to tell you, too.”
“You mean you didn’t just say it?”
“Not all of it,” he said softly.
“What is it?”
“I dreamt of you last night too.”
She sat up straight and stared straight ahead. “We…?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You started to cry.”
“Jesus, what did you do to me?” she demanded, looking at him.
He couldn’t help but laugh at that, and then poked her. “Serious time.”
Nodding she gestured for him to continue.
“You were crying after we finished and I was about to ask you what was wrong when Joyce appeared by the bed and said ‘Now look at what you did!’”
Her eyes widened. “Then what?”
“I was going to tell her that I was sorry--”
“F-for cheating on her?”
“No! Have you been listening to me at all? I was going to tell her that I was sorry that I hurt her, but I loved you.”
“Spike?” Buffy whispered mournfully.
“Yes, my love?” he asked, afraid she’d recoil from him now. Reaching up, he twined her hair in his fingers and pulled her head down until her forehead was against his.
“Do you think she’s angry with us?” she asked in a small voice.
He hadn’t braced himself for that question, and he should have. He knew she’d been struggling with the same issues as him. So, was he honest with her at this point and admit he worried about the same? Or did he tell her that no, he didn’t think Joyce was angry with them?
About now would be a great time for some Divine Intervention…