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What the hell did I ever see in him?

Buffy shook her head as she closed the heavy door behind her. Why had she wasted so much time pining after a man who had zero respect for her abilities as a slayer—let alone that of the woman? It was a relief to know that Spike understood her. That this man who touched her on so many different levels, loved her for both who, and what she was... not in spite of it. He always seemed to know what she needed, even when most of the time she didn't know herself. Spike didn’t think she needed protecting. Spike was a man who thought—

Buffy froze.

...who thought he didn’t deserve her.

The grating sound of a rusty hinge echoed throughout the chamber, as the top of Spike’s bleached head emerged from the lower level. “Did you send the big git packin’?” he asked, hauling himself upwards and studying her intently. Buffy had yet to acknowledge his presence, and her continued silence was making him nervous. “Sweetheart?”

Distracted, Buffy’s eyes narrowed at the memory of his admission. “You're a doof.”

Spike stiffened at her matter-of-fact tone. “Excuse me?”

“You heard.” Buffy folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as he struggled to pinpoint the source of her irritation. “You’re a doof, and—Hey! Look at me, you big, dumb... guy.”

Incredulous, Spike returned her glare. “Oh that’s nice, that is. How long did it take to come up with that sterling insult?” In the seemingly endless minutes since Buffy’s departure, Spike had tortured himself with mutinous thoughts of what was happening outside his crypt, and despite the underlying knowledge that his girl would stay true, her current disposition was doing little to alleviate his unease. “What’s crawled up your arse?”

Swallowing her frustration, Buffy strode forwards and took his face between her palms. The flames of desire raged in his eyes, but beneath them lay the fraught and uncertain confirmation that he still thought himself unworthy of her love. “You said you didn't deserve me,” she whispered, running her thumbs over his cheekbones. “You said—”

“I don't.”

“Spike—”

“Kitten, please... just hear me out.” With trembling hands he removed Buffy’s palms from his face, holding them in a loose grip between their bodies. "I can't change the past, love. It’s there—it happened...and I can't pretend it didn't.” Spike’s head hung low, his gaze, fixed on their entwined fingers. “I became a vampire, and I killed people,” he said, squeezing gently when he felt Buffy start at his blunt tone. “A lot of bloody people, an’ no amount of wishful thinkin’ is gonna change that. We’ve got a rough history, you an’ I—don’ forget, I had my fair share of appearances in tonight’s little show an’ tell.”

Her heart aching, Buffy sighed as she stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “That’s true,” she whispered, “but did you see me crying over anything you’ve done to me?” Spike’s brow knitted into a quizzical frown, and tilting her head to the side, Buffy offered him a gentle smile. “I hate to burst your bubble, Big Bad, but other than ruin parent teacher night and insult my taste in men, you’ve never really hurt me that badly. I’ve been betrayed by my friends—the people I trusted... but you? You were always upfront. You either hated me or loved me. I didn’t have to worry about a hidden agenda.” She paused. “Well... apart from that whole Adam business...”

Spike grimaced at the memory. “What can I tell you, pet? I was an idiot.”

“Was?”

“Watch it, Summers.” The idle threat was lacking in its usual panache, and releasing her hands, Spike’s palms settled over Buffy’s hips as he looked her square in the eye. “I love you,” he said. “I love your kindness and your strength. I love the way you never give up... even when you’re bein’ so bloody stubborn it makes me wanna knock some sense into you.” Spike paused, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. “You're a hell of a woman, Buffy, but I’m not blind. I know what I am. Lovin’ you has changed me, but when all’s said an’ done, I’m still the monster that lurks in the shadows.”

Even if he lived to be a thousand, Spike would never admit to sharing some of Peaches concerns. Despite his newly acquired less-than-evil perspective, he was, after all, still a demon. He wanted to be a man worthy of Buffy’s love, but similarly, he wanted acceptance for the fundamental things about himself that he couldn't change.

“I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I prefer you didn't. Sweetheart, I...”

His voice broke as Buffy brushed a lingering kiss across his cheek. “I know who you are, Spike,” she whispered in the air between them. “You’re brave, and you’re loyal... and you’d do anything for the people you love.” She pulled back to meet his disbelieving gaze. “You are so much more than just another vampire.”

“Buffy—”

“And don't make me out to be a martyr here. I'm not perfect... far from it. You more than anyone should know what a complete bitch I can be.” Her words earned a slight smile, and encouraged, she continued. “We’ve both made mistakes.”

Spike sighed. “Probably gonna make a lot more of ‘em too.” He searched her face, finally losing himself in the trust he saw behind Buffy’s eyes. “I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker,” he said. “I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. I’m impulsive, so I make a lot of wrong bloody calls, but I promise you, love, I’m not gonna bugger this up.” Leaning down, he rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t lose you... not now that I’ve finally found you.”

“You won’t.” Buffy blinked back her tears. “This is where I want to be.”

Overwhelmed, Spike tucked an errant blonde lock behind her ear. “How went the chat with Tall, Dark and Forehead?” he asked, eager to steer the topic of conversation away from his supreme poncyness.

“Pretty much what I expected. Spike evil, Buffy confused, blah, blah, blah.” The Slayer looked up, her eyes shining as a wicked smirk curled her lips. “I think I may have slipped a few notches down that pedestal.”

“I bet you did.” A wave of pride swept over him at Buffy’s triumph. “Wish I could’ve seen the look on his face when you set him straight.”

Sobering, Buffy glanced away shyly, before returning his gaze. “I need to ask you something,” she said in a tone that was equal parts hesitant and apologetic. “What would—I mean...” Buffy sighed, exasperated at the need to voice her concerns. “Spike, what would you do if the chip stopped working?”

The silence was deafening. Tilting his head, Spike’s all-too-knowing gaze saw straight through her. “You want to know if I’d start feedin’ again.” His eyes narrowed as anger washed over his features. “You want to know if I’d hurt you?”

“No,” she replied instantly. “No, but—”

“Bloody hell, Buffy.” Spike pulled away from the embrace, growling, as he paced across the darkened room. “I’m not a complete dolt. I know the difference between right and wrong, okay? It just didn’t matter to me before.” He turned to face her, his arms folded as he leant back against the sarcophagus. “Do you honestly think that I’d throw all this away, if snackin’ on co-eds was back on the menu?” Spike’s body was rigid with tension, and gesturing wildly, he didn’t give Buffy the chance to respond. “You said I had your trust, and believe it or not, that means everythin’ to me. This chip could pack up tomorrow and it won’t make a blind bit of difference. I wouldn’t start killin’ again ‘cause it would hurt you. End of soddin’ story.”

Driven by the need to soothe his wounded pride, Buffy moved to stand before him, gingerly reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I never doubted that you would hurt me,” she whispered. “Not for a second. I just—I needed to hear you say it... I’m sorry.”

Spike sighed as he begrudgingly accepted her apology. “I swear to you, love, chip or no chip, humans are off limits. I wouldn’t lay a fang on anyone unless...”

“Unless?” Buffy held her breath as she waited for Spike to elaborate.

“I won’t lie to you, kitten. When it comes to protectin’ you or the Niblet, then all bets are off. I’ll fight to the end for you—both of you. An’ if any bugger tries to hurt my girls, I’ll tear ‘em limb from limb. Demon or human—it won’t make a lick of difference when it comes to your safety.”

Spike was so incensed by the idea that the overgrown sod had planted seeds of doubt in Buffy’s mind, that he was barely registering the fact that it hadn’t worked. “So,” he said, tamping down the urge to hunt Angel down and add a little injury to insult. “Was that his grand plan? Tryin’ to make you doubt me?” His demon threatened to surface as years of pent-up resentment raced through his veins. “Arrogant prat thinks the whole world revolves around his enormous soddin’ forehead. After all this time, the bloody git still doesn’t realise I’m not like him. Just ‘cause he’s too weak to control his demon, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“I know,” Buffy’s hands slid to his wrists, encouraging him to relax his stance, “I believe you.” Releasing an unsteady breath, she placed her palms in his and rubbed her thumbs over his cool, roughened skin. “Look, what do you say we hightail it over that bridge when we come to it?” she asked, and grateful for the out, Spike nodded his agreement. A dark cloud had settled over their evening, and Buffy sighed at the disheartening turn of events. “Wow, Angel really knows how to spoil the mood, doesn’t he?”

Spike cocked his head to the side. It would take more than a visit from his poncy grandpap to ruin his hard-earned plans. “Oh, pouty,” he said, tangling his fingers in Buffy’s hair, as a dark hunger stormed in his eyes. “Look at that lip.”

She grinned, encouraged by his playful manner. “You gonna get it?”

Exhaling softly, Spike dropped his arm to Buffy’s waist. “Are you sure?” he whispered, all traces of humour gone in an instant. “If we do this, I’ll never let you go. This is it for me. You’re it for me. Slayer... Buffy, you’re the one.”

For endless seconds she stared into his eyes—tearful, dumbstruck—in awe of the raw emotion that overwhelmed her. “Nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do.”

Spike shrugged, unrepentant. “That’s because nobody’s ever loved you the way I do. When a vampire falls in love, the woman becomes everythin’—his reason for bein’. You’re more important than my demon, more vital than the blood, an’ I’m gonna sound like a right poof for sayin’ this, but when I fell in love with you, I knew it was forever.” His grip tightened as he pulled her flush against his body. “No one’s ever taken me up like you have... I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you too.” Suddenly the words were no longer enough. She was never any good with them anyway, and Buffy decided she would much rather show him. Glancing up, she allowed a wicked smirk to dance on her lips, as she wound her fingers through his gel-slicked curls. “Now shut up and kiss me... you big poof.”

“Bossy bint.”

Spike growled in triumph as his lips melded to hers, his tongue seeking entrance as he stole the breath from her lungs. Impatiently, his hands wandered to the firm muscles of Buffy’s thighs, lifting her up, so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist as he guided her towards the lower level.

Blunt teeth nipped at her ear lobe, and Spike’s voice was a sensual purr—promising, teasing—burning through her veins. “Come with me,” he rumbled against her throat as he effortlessly dropped through the hatch, and Buffy couldn’t help thinking that if he did it again, she probably would.



Chapter End Notes:
Yay! Christmas is over and done with so regular Friday updates can resume. Some lines taken from Touched. Thank you to everybody who has stuck with this fic. Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, stay tuned for the smuttiest smut I’ve ever smutted. If you like that sort of thing of course… *whistles innocently*



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