"That weekend in Vegas?" Spike started as they lay in bed later that same night. He had been thinking all day about the talk Angel and himself had had earlier that day in his office, and he had known that, even if he did not want to admit it, not yet anyways, Liam wasn't too far off on the truth of his feelings for his wife. "What was that to you?"
Buffy's thoughts paused and her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Spike sighed and raised up on one elbow, studying Buffy's profile against the off white pillow below her head.
"We had chemistry, you and I. Had a right nice time, dinnit we?"
Buffy looked up into his eyes, a small, nostalgic smile playing on her full lips. "We did."
The light from the lamp at their bedside table framed his head making his mess of bleached blond curls look almost angelic. A halo placed upon his head. An angel of mercy come down to save her. Her angel.
She sighed. 'I think I might just love you.'
If her slight epiphany was revealed in her eyes, she was sure he hadn't noticed since he continued talking.
"There was something there between us, and I don't know if you've noticed, love, but uh..." his hand had trailed up to caress the softness of her arm, "don't you feel like there's something still there?"
'Oh God, does he… does he feel it too?'
"...Or that there could be? Maybe?"
She shook her head, partly to shake herself out of her thoughts, partly to clear out the confusion, before his words hit her fully.
"What-- what are you...?"
He mistook her suppressed hope for wariness.
"Nothing. Just... nothing." He breathed out and plopped back down on the bed, his arms coming to rest one, over his eyes, the other across his belly.
"No," this time she was the one to raise up to her elbow, "tell me." She could see his jaw twitching in uncertainty. "Please?"
He raised the arm covering his eyes and took her in.
Her long hair was pulled back in a small ponytail away from her face, a few un-cooperating strands were messily tucked behind her ears, and her green eyes were shining in the soft light of the lamp.
"We're playing pretend, aren't we? To a point, I mean." At her confused look he continued. "We're friends, at least I'd like to think so--"
"We are," she interrupted and smiled at him.
"Right," he smiled back. "And we're playing at the happy family. With the dad and, the mum, and..." he nodded his head, signalling her stomach, "a little bit on the way."
"Okay," her smile faltered.
"Just," he sat up and leaned against the headboard legs crossed, and she followed suit, sitting to his side, facing him, legs crossed as well. "Would it be so bad... so far fetched... to think that it could work, we could work?" His gaze drifted to his hands. "That with enough time... we... could be... real?"
"Oh God," she groaned, her stomach rolling in what she though was nervousness until a sudden wave of nausea hit her fully, helping her to suppress the feeling of guilt that had been becoming stronger a bit more every day.
"Please, if it's no good..." He sighed. "It was just an idea, Buffy--"
"Not that," she croaked and he looked up at her. One hand was resting on her stomach, the other covering her mouth, her nostrils flaring as she took in deep breaths.
"Oh," he said, "oh!" Understanding dawning over him, he sat up straighter, ready to help.
The bed rippled with his movements and her eyes widened two seconds before she bolted from the bed and to their bathroom.
Spike got up and sighed, making his way to the kitchen, to fetch her a glass of water, mumbling the whole way about misbehaving sprogs and their bad timing when he's trying to ask his wife if they could date.
Spike walked back into the bathroom just as the toilet flushed. Setting the glass of water on the counter, he moved towards Buffy to help her stand. Offering his hand, he pulled her up and guided her over to the sink.
"You okay, love?" He asked handing her the glass.
She took it gratefully and nodded, taking a sip to rinse out her mouth before taking a few more gulps.
"Need anything else?" He asked, the hand resting on her back making small soothing circles.
"No," she shook her head, smiling at his reflection in the mirror. Finishing the glass of water, she turned, burying her face in his neck, slightly nuzzling it as she stifled a yawn.
Lifting her up into his arms and elbowing the lights off, he walked them back to the bed. Setting her atop, he helped her get under the covers before slipping in himself. Reaching over he turned off the lamp and proceeded to lay down, pulling her into his arms.
They were still for a long moment before Buffy spoke. His name falling from her lips in a tiny whisper.
"Yeah?"
She was silent for a long time and Spike was about to inquire again when she finally spoke.
"Yes."
His brow furrowed in confusion, "huh's that, love?"
"I said," she cleared her throat, "yes." She took a deep breath before continuing. "With time," she said, "I do think this... thing, between us, can be real."
Spike's eyes widened and he took a breath to speak before her voice interrupted his not yet formed words.
"I want... us..." she sighed, "to be real."
William closed his eyes and let out the breath he had taken. Angling his face to look down at her, he met her eyes, hers shining with affection, and, he was sure she could see the same in his.
Hand resting on her waist, he leaned down, and with a smile, covered her lips with his own. All the while thinking that Liam had been wrong.
He wasn't falling.
He was already there.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
What you've all been waiting for... well, kinda anyways. This chapter just gives you a glimpse of it, but the actual thing isn't till the next. And if you give me yummy reviews, which we already know are my drug, I might be persuaded to post the next chapter tomorrow, if not tonight ;P