The next morning, with a clearer head, she felt even worse than she had the night before. What had she done? A simple plan to enjoy herself had brought hurt for everyone involved - except Todd, who had seemed more than pleased with the outcome. She felt sick, dirty, and guilt kept clawing at her, making her feel even worse. She felt like she had cheated on Spike, like she had cheated on herself by ignoring the feelings she had for him.
When she dragged herself out of bed, her first act of the day was to shower, standing under the spray so long it went cold, leaving her shivering. Nothing could wash away the disgust she felt though. She finally climbed out of the shower when her mother banged on the door, asking her if she was okay. She opened the door to her mother and forced a smile.
“Buffy, you’ve been in there for ages. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” she answered tiredly, forcing another smile and heading for her bedroom.
She was barely inside before she heard her door open behind her and she turned to find her mother watching her with worried eyes. Joyce just looked at her for a long time and then her expression softened.
“Buffy, I’m your mother… but I’m not blind or stupid.”
Her eyes went wide as she sank onto her bed, wondering what her mother would say next.
“You were arguing with Spike last night.”
She breathed a sigh of relief but then tensed again.
“Of course we weren’t, Mom. We were just-“
“Shouting at each other?”
She sighed, knowing there was no use in trying to deny it.
“It’s nothing,” she murmured.
She heard her mother sigh and then she moved, sitting beside her on the bed.
“I don’t know what’s got into you two lately. One minute you’re quiet, the next you’re fine – and now this!”
“People have arguments, Mom.”
“I’m not going to push. Obviously neither of you wants to tell me what’s going on. But I’m telling you now, fix it.”
“Huh?!” she blurted out, turning to her mother in surprise.
“Buffy, I know how close you and Spike are. Don’t let a silly argument ruin that. You need to make it right.”
“I didn’t do anything!” she protested.
“Maybe you didn’t,” her mother replied with a soft smile, “But of the two of you, you’re the one with the worst temper-“
She went to protest but her mother cut her off.
“And the most stubborn. I know that Summers’ stubbornness comes in handy sometimes, but don’t let it mess up things with Spike.”
“It’s not my fault he doesn’t approve of some of my choices,” she grumbled.
“Would I approve?” her mother asked pointedly and she averted her eyes guiltily. Her mother reached out and took her hand then.
“I’m just saying, Buffy. Fix it, because before you know it, things will get out of control and you’ll lose him.”
She turned back to her mother, meeting her gaze with sad eyes.
“You think?”
“Unless you sort things out between you, yes.”
She sighed but nodded.
“I know, Mom. I-I’ll fix it.”
“Good,” her mother said and pressed a kiss to her head, “Now, have a good day. I’m off to work.”
She dressed in a daze, thinking on her mother’s words. She was right – but how the hell was she going to make things right? She wasn’t sure but she needed to see him, apologise for last night and, if she was really honest with herself, she needed the comfort of his company. She finished dressing, dragged her brush through her hair and then with a glance in the mirror, ventured out into the corridor and along to Spike’s room. She knocked and waited for his answer.
After a few moments, the door opened and a sleepy Spike looked at her in surprise.
“Buffy?”
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
He wiped his eyes and shook his head quickly.
“It’s fine. What are you-“
“I came to apologise.”
He paused for a moment and then stepped back to let her through. As she moved to sit on the bed hesitantly, he turned on the light, squinting at the bright light. If she wasn’t so on edge, she might have smiled at how adorable he was when he was just waking up. He finally turned to her, leaning against the drawers opposite the bed, eyes watching her carefully. Taking her cue, she spoke up hesitantly.
“I… I’m sorry for… for the way I acted last night. And I… I’m sorry I hit you.”
“You’ve done worse,” he murmured with a tiny smile, “Seem to remember somethin’ about an organ.”
She smiled helplessly, warmed by the fact that he didn’t appear to hate her as much as she feared. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his, her heart in her throat.
“And I’m sorry for… for what I did. For…” she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, her troubled gaze falling to the floor.
After a long silence, Spike spoke.
“Why, Buffy?” he whispered and her eyes flew to his, surprised at the depth of his pain.
“I don’t know,” she whispered back, “I just… I wanted to feel… I just wanted someone to want me and I…”
She trailed off again, fighting back her tears again, disgusted by her idiocy.
“What happened?” he asked softly, finally giving in and moving to sit beside her.
“You know what happened,” she choked out, unable to meet his eyes.
“And did it make you feel…”
“It made me feel sick,” she whispered, “All I could think about… was you.”
She turned tortured eyes towards his, pleading him silently to forgive her. He reached out to cup her cheek, eyes filled with pain, and it took all of her effort not to break down at his soft touch.
“Tell me what happened,” he murmured painfully, his tone indicating that he would rather not hear.
“I… We hung out a bit and then… I don’t know, we were suddenly… kissing.”
She stopped, not wanting to continue but he nodded, forcing her to.
“Then we… we went to his… his car.”
She saw something flash across his expression and she forced herself onwards, if only to get it over with. She let out a choked sob and she saw his expression soften, his thumb stroking over her cheek.
“A-afterwards he… he just… he was like ‘bye’, ‘see you round sometime’… It was pretty obvious there was only one thing he was interested in… and once he’d had it…”
She couldn’t carry on anymore and she burst into tears, bowing her head, helplessly trying to silence her sobs with her hand. A moment later, she was wrapped up in Spike’s embrace and she truly lost it, crying against him as he held her tight, shaking hands running over her hair and back, his mouth pressed against her hair.
“Oh, Buffy. Sweet Buffy,” he kept whispering, over and over again, his voice thick with emotion.
“What’s wrong with me?” she choked out, “Why do they always…”
He forced her gaze to his, hands cradling her face.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, do you hear me? Nothing. They’re the ones with the problem. Not you.”
“Spike, it hurts.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, drawing her close again, “Shh. They’re idiots. You, you’re perfect. Too good for them. They can’t handle you… don’t really know who you are.”
She didn’t know if he was talking about Todd or Angel now but it didn’t matter – the message was clear. She raised her head, one hand fisted in his shirt as teary eyes met his.
“And you?” she whispered.
He hesitated for a moment and she could feel his hand shaking as he brushed it over her hair.
“I understand with perfect clarity exactly who you are, Buffy Summers. You’re bright and strong and alive… and so bloody beautiful. You take my breath away… if I had any,” he finished, flashing her a wry smile.
“Spike,” she whispered, leaning into his touch.
She watched as his eyes darted to her mouth, saw him hesitate, torn – and made the decision for him, leaning forward and capturing his lips between hers. He let out a low moan against her and drew her towards him, lips moving against hers gently, worshipping her. He jerked back though, uncertainty plain in his eyes.
“Don’t push me away, please,” she whispered, leaning towards him.
He kissed her again, his hand twining in her hair as he held her close, deepening their kiss and drawing a helpless moan from her. She clung to him, one arm twined around him, the other pressed against his chest, gripping his shirt. He pulled away again, this time to let her breathe and she studied his expression, searching for some sign that this wasn’t another mistake. He met her gaze and stroked his fingers over her skin.
“What are we doing, Buffy?”
She felt her heart drop but as if sensing it, he leant down and brushed his lips over hers, that one touch soothing her frayed nerves.
“Taking up the challenge?” she replied with a nervous smile when he pulled back.
He smiled and brushed his hand down over her hair and trailed his fingers over her shoulder.
“Not afraid, are you?” she challenged and his eyes locked on hers, dark and serious. He said nothing for a moment but then he tightened his grip on her, drawing her close against him and pressing his lips to her forehead.
“Afraid of losing you to some other man,” he mumbled, “I can still smell him on you.”
She pulled back, raising her hand to his face, her expression pained.
“I was so stupid. I didn’t… I never wanted to hurt you. Please… please forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he replied, “It’s my fault. I pushed you away because I thought it was for the best.”
“And now?”
He smiled and grazed his lips against hers, letting out that purr-like sound.
“I want to be good enough for you, Buffy. Because the thought of you with another man…”
Wanting to silence his doubts, she caught his lips with hers, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She poured all of her desire, all of her affection for him into her kiss and was greeted with a throaty moan as his arms banded around her, his tongue teasing her mouth open and delving inside. How could she have ever tried to replicate this with someone who was not him?
She pushed the thought aside when she suddenly found herself lying on her back, still clinging to Spike as he leant over her, kissing her hungrily, his hands running up and down her arms. He parted from her breathlessly, resting his mouth against her neck, his breath cooling her skin and making her arch against him.
“This… this is dangerous, sweetheart,” he breathed, holding back.
“I promise to behave if you will,” she teased, running her fingers up his chest to his lips. He nipped at her fingertips and then groaned, moving and collapsing on the bed next to her.
She pushed herself up onto her elbow, watching him with a faint smile as he closed his eyes, seemingly fighting his desire. That was fine – it really was dangerous – but there were a few other issues she needed to address. She shifted closer and rested one hand on his chest. Without even opening his eyes, he covered her hand with his and smiled softly.
“Spike,” she whispered.
“If I look at you, I’m gonna kiss you so I’m keeping me eyes closed,” he murmured with a smile and she laughed.
“Well, okay, just… don’t fall asleep on me.”
He smiled and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm.
“You know…” she started softly, smiling as he continued to kiss her hand, “When you gave me that whole speech about wanting me and being friends and blah blah blah…” She saw him smile and he halted this ministrations, listening intently. “…you never asked me what I felt. Never let me tell you what you mean to me.”
His eyes snapped open, fixing on hers in an expression of wary joy.
“Well?” he asked huskily.
“Well… I know you think this is just a rebound thing – why I don’t know – but I… it’s not. If anything, mister, you’re the one on the rebound.”
She jabbed him playfully in the shoulder but he turned serious, catching her hand.
“M’not on the rebound, Buffy.”
“Look, it’s okay… I get it. I mean, you and Dru-“
“Stop,” he got out firmly, drawing her to him, one hand cupping her face, “This has nothing to do with Dru.”
“And this has nothing to do with Angel,” she countered.
They were silent, his eyes fixed on hers as he traced his fingers over her face.
“Can’t blame me, can you?” he asked softly, “First time we kissed, you had that card from him in your hand.”
“Didn’t mean I was thinking about him,” she whispered, lowering her head and kissing him gently, knowing that this was something she could definitely get used to. And somehow, just a few kisses had dissipated the low ache in her chest and had actually made lying here with him on his bed a far more relaxed experience than she had expected. Maybe resisting temptation wasn’t going to be so hard after all.
Determined not to contradict herself, she pulled away from him before their kiss could heat up, smiling softly.
“You were about to say something about my hot little bod and how much you wanted me,” he prompted with a smirk, closing his eyes again.
“In your dreams.”
“Mmm, you have no idea, love.”
His words made her flush but she forced her attention back to what they had been talking about.
“I’m not rebounding,” she said firmly and he opened his eyes once more, one hand finding hers and clasping it, “I’m… seeing what’s always been in front of me.”
“The hot tight body, ‘course.”
She laughed and swatted him playfully but he caught her, drawing her down and she soon gave up the fight, happily curling up against him, her head resting her shoulder.
“S’not gonna be easy,” he murmured, his mouth muffled against her hair.
“It’s worth it,” she whispered, echoing his words to the contrary and she felt him tense for a second, before he relaxed and pressed a kiss to her hair.
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