Spike was here. He was kneeling before her, and he was touching her—lovingly even. For a moment, she wondered if the last couple of days had even happened. One look into Spike's watery eyes, and she knew they had. She thought his eyes looked like the bluest lakes. So beautiful and shiny, sparkling even as they reflected his pain. His fingers moved down her hair one last time before resting softly on her bicep.
"Hey there, Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice cracking as if he hadn't used it in days, "thought I'd lost you. Have I lost you, Buffy?"
At that moment, Buffy wanted to fling herself into his arms and tell him that she was his forever, but she couldn't. She had to know. "What about Drusilla?"
Spike sighed and sat back on his heels. "Will you let me speak? No interruptions. No running from the room before I've said my piece." He searched her face.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position and nodded. "No interruptions. I won't leave until you're finished."
Spike's jaw ticked at the assertion that she might leave at all. He took a breath and began his story, "All right, luv, guess we should jump right into the phone call, since that seems to be what started this whole mess. First off, though it might not have been the best idea, I still have had some contact with Dru—"
Buffy huffed at that.
Spike gave her a look, "Remember, pet, no interruptions. Drusilla was in my life for a very long time, Buffy, but she will never, never be involved with me in a romantic sense ever again." He took a breath, "And part of my contact with her this time around was...to...sort of cut her out of my life—our life—a little bit more. Dru is participating in a charity art auction." At Buffy's raised eyebrow, "Yeah, I know. Trust me, she's strictly in it for the publicity. It's a really big deal for her. It's a black tie affair. Politicians and entertainers from all over the country will be attending. It's a wonderful way to get her work out there, and the money will be going to improvements on the AIDS research center at Mount Sinai and to improved hospice care for those already suffering."
"But wha—"
"I'm getting there, luv. You really don't follow directions very well. Anyway, I was going to give Dru a couple of her paintings back for the auction, but in the end, I decided to give them all back. I know you admired them, but I just thought it best that we have a fresh start. I didn't think having part of Dru in our home would be the best way to do that."
Buffy let out a breath, "So you didn't sleep with Dru?"
Spike rolled his eyes, "Of course not! Do you not listen to anything I say, you crazy bin—wait, did you sleep with Riley?"
"No! Ick! That's a place I'm never revisiting."
He crossed his arms and regarded her suspiciously, "So, what were you doing with Mr. Personality anyway?"
Buffy tilted her head, "What exactly...did you see?"
"Well, when I didn't find you at your place, I headed down towards the pub—and there you are standing out in the street with that oaf rubbing you, and then you hop in his car!" Spike shook his head at the memory.
"Spike! I was crossing the street to catch a cab. Riley almost hit me with his car. He drove me to Anya's. That's all. I have zero interest in that man."
"Oh," Spike bowed his head in thought for a moment. Coming to a decision, he looked up and graced Buffy with a huge smile, "So really, pet, this has all just been a series of misunderstandings." He moved up on his knees again and placed his hands on either side of her legs on the couch. "I've missed you," he murmured as he leaned in.
Buffy shifted back and held a hand up in front of his face, "Hold up, buster, you still have some splaining to do." Spike sat back on his heels again and frowned. "Where did you sleep the other night, because your room is still totally trashed—which isn't cool by the way, though a little sexy. And where were you when I came in last night?"
Spike smiled, "Oh, well, that's easy enough. Went on a little trip, luv."
"A...little...trip..." Buffy repeated dumbly.
"Yep. You may have heard of the place. Sunnydale, California. Just got back about ten minutes before you woke up."
Buffy blinked, "You were in Sunnydale?"
Spike leaned forward and placed his hands on her knees, rubbing them gently. "Yeah, luv, I was. Got you something. Got us something. Figured we needed to started filling up the spaces on the walls." He reached beside the couch and picked up a flat rectangular object covered in butcher paper. "It's from your mum's gallery. I know she didn't paint it, but I thought you might like something that she touched." He handed her the painting, and she looked from it to him and back again, completely speechless. "Go ahead, pet, take off the paper."
Buffy had so many emotions swirling around inside that she didn't even begin to know how to describe them. Carefully, she ripped away at the paper that covered the painting. When it was finally revealed, she thought that her heart would burst with emotion. On the canvas was an elaborate cityscape, but that was not what had her so moved that every cell in her body tingled with awareness. No, what brought joy to every fiber of her being was the amazing storm that had taken over the night sky in this beautiful watercolor city.
"Remember that night, pet?" Dazed, Buffy nodded. "You fell asleep on the balcony. All curled up in my blanket, resting peacefully even with the storm raging all around you." Spike smiled at the memory. "That's the night I fell in love with you."
Buffy's mouth opened and closed for a moment, "I—you—you love me?"
Spike tilted his head and smiled, "I would have thought that would have been obvious by now."
Buffy grinned ruefully, "I'm a slow learner."
Spiked curled his tongue behind his teeth, "I don't know, luv, you seem to pick up some things fast enough." He reached out and took the painting from her hands, propping it against the side of the couch. "We'll hang this up later, my dear. Right now, I want to be close to you." He stood up. "Lay down towards the front of the couch, luv." She did as he said and he slid in behind her. "Much better. We should always be this close."
Buffy giggled, "Might make it hard to get anything done."
"I don't know. I can think of a few things we could get done, could even be a bit closer." She felt him hard and long against her backside. She pressed back against him, eliciting a low moan from his throat. She wiggled her lower body, receiving the same response, until he stilled her hips with his hands. He gently turned her to face him. "Luv, we really don't have to do anything. I know you haven't been feeling your best lately. I don't want you to feel that—"
"Are you trying to talk me out of this? Because I can tell you right now, you're not going to be successful." She slid her hand down to cup him through his jeans. "I miss you."
Spike's eyes widened, but soon his surprised expression was replaced with a smirk, "Well, in that case—lesson the first, take off all your clothes." Buffy grinned as she jumped up from the couch and yanked off her t-shirt, panties, and skirt. Spike inhaled sharply at the sight of her already glistening slit. The girl had certainly come a long way from the days of shyly trying to hide her body from him. Spike stood and followed suit, smoothly removing his t-shirt and jeans. His length jutted proudly from his body, already topped with a bead of moisture. "C'mere, luv," he said, pulling Buffy to him. She giggled in surprise as he pushed her down on the couch. Covering her body with his own, he entered her in one sure stroke and stilled inside her. "Lesson the second, luv—though the bedroom is nice, there are many other fun places to make love."
Two weeks after the wonderful day when Spike professed his love for Buffy and the stormy city painting went up on the wall, the two were preparing for a house-warming party at the flat to celebrate Buffy having finally moved in. Buffy was preparing a tray of cheese and meat for the party as Spike went through his CD collection, picking out music that he thought everyone would like.
Buffy speared another piece of cheese and popped it in her mouth. "I just love cheese," she sighed.
Spike rolled his eyes from the living room, "I know you do, luv, but at the rate you're going—there will be none left when the guests arrive." As soon as the words left his mouth, the intercom buzzed. "First arrival, pet. Let the games begin."
Over the next half hour, all of the guests arrived. Anya and Faith were glued to the punch bowl, Willow and Tara were getting caught up with Buffy by the food, and Spike and Oz were checking out CDs in the living room.
Oz glanced at Willow as Tara whispered something into her ear that made her giggle. "What's up with that?"
Spike looked up from the CD in his hand, "Huh, oh," he said following Oz's line of sight, "lesbians."
Oz nodded. "Cool."
All of the sudden, there was a huge clap of thunder and the lights flickered.
"Well, mate, looks like this party might turn dark fast."
Oz nodded and took a seat on the couch, relaxing his body. "Nice."
Spike shook his head and looked across the room at Buffy. As the rush of a sudden downpour was heard in the background, their eyes met. He cocked his head and motioned towards the balcony. She excused herself from her friends and was soon standing out in the cool night air with Spike's arms wrapped around her.
"Enjoying yourself, pet?"
"Mmm, yeah, it's nice." She sighed, "I may not have much of a family, but...I can still have a full life. A happy life."
A blinding bolt of lightning flashed and the city block was plunged into darkness. A moment later, from within the flat, Anya's voice was heard, "Marco!" and then a beat later Willow, "Polo!"
Buffy giggled and broke away from Spike. "I better get in there before they break something." As she turned, he caught her arm. He looked towards the flat, then back at her, making sure to meet her eyes.
"In there, luv," he began gesturing towards the flat, "that's your family." He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "And right here. I'm your family."
She melted on the spot, "God, I love you."
"And I love you, Sweetheart. So much." He leaned in, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.
As he pulled back, she looked at him curiously, "Did you know I loved you?"
He grinned, "Of course—I mean, how could you not? This is me we're talking about. I bet I had you that first night at Blue.
She rolled her eyes, "Yes, you were rather charming with the shoving and yelling and sneering."
"Oi! I don't sneer!"
"Oh, you sneer, Billy, you definitely sneer."
They continued to banter as they entered the flat to join their friends—their family, celebrating to the soundtrack of the falling rain.