She brushed him off, “We are not telling them.”
“Yeah,” Spike sighed, “I’m beginning to see that.” he said humourlessly.
She looked at him with pleading eyes, he hadn’t let up all morning. “Please, Spike.” she said putting down her mother’s address book on the side table. “This isn’t the time…and even if it was…” She hesitated; this was too much to think about. Rupert’s words were still fresh in her mind, Spike and her had only just started sleeping together again, and now he was pressuring her to tell everyone. She hadn’t the capacity for it all right now. “I can’t talk about this.” she said as she went over to sit on the bed and put her head in her hands. “I have all these things to do, all these people to call…I…”
Spike sighed again, and his shoulders dropped in defeat. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, “I’m not sorry for bringing it up, but I’m sorry you thought I was telling you what to do.”
Through the gaps between her fingers she saw him begin to twiddle his thumbs together nervously in his lap.
“This is important, but I don’t want you to think I don’t get there are more important things for you to do right now…” He paused, “I just don’t want it forgotten about entirely.”
She finally took her hands away and turned to look up at him.
“I know, but it’s too much.” she said honestly dropping her head again.
“I know, and you’re right, it’s not the time…but soon we’re gonna to have to talk about when will be the right time.” He took a heavy breath, “Or if there will ever be a right time.”
“What are you saying?” she asked spinning her head back to him.
“You said it yourself, it’s too much. I get if you want to change your…”
“No.” she said firmly, her hands coming down harshly to clutch the bedspread on either side of her. She felt grounded now and temporarily strong, and that was good because she needed to speak up. “You don’t get to do this. I’m not sure why you think it’s a good idea to question this right now and to be honest I don’t care, the answer is no.” She straightened up visibly, “We are not going to stop seeing each other; we are not going to cool things off. This isn’t something that can be left and picked back up again whenever we want!”
She was getting louder by the minute even though Spike had stopped talking so she had no one to compete with for the floor.
She took sharp breaths so she never faltered in her rant, “We’re in a relationship! My mother just died! So when I say it’s too much I mean, it’s too much, and this is not another thing that gets to happen to me.”
Spike didn’t know what to say at first, but he grabbed one of Buffy’s tensed hands until it relaxed and she let go of the fabric under her grip, “I’m sorry, I thought you meant we were too much.” he replied eventually.
“We’re just enough.” she said looking at him desperately, “I couldn’t cope if we weren’t…if you weren’t here for me.”
He leant down to her and kissed her softly, “I’m here for you no matter what happens, but I know what you mean.”
After that Buffy felt guilty, all the time, because the truth was although she’d cut him off when he suggested it she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure she hadn’t changed her mind about her and Spike. Well, not about them, but about telling everyone. She doubted because every time she imagined it it only went one way and that frightened her. In her mind Dawn would cry more and ignore them, actually probably just ignore her and take it out on her alone, and Giles would drink more and not speak. And yes, the truth was that that was the case already, even though Buffy hadn’t done anything that’s how her family were already treating her, but the way she got through the day was because she knew she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. She knew why they were really upset and she knew it wouldn’t last forever.
But if she told them, she wouldn’t know anything anymore, wouldn’t be able to gauge anything.
She thought she’d come to terms with what they were, that it wasn’t wrong, and that it wasn’t shameful, but maybe she’d been mistaken. It didn’t help that even though Spike hadn’t said anything about it since then she now knew it was on his mind. He obviously wanted to tell them, he obviously didn’t feel bad about it, so why did she?
And that’s why she felt guilty.
She couldn’t look at him; they were meant to be a team and she’d let him down. Every time they were in the same room the next few days she would make an excuse to leave and she made sure she was already asleep when he came to her at night, or she faked it. But one night he came into her room early while she was changing, it was dark and he startled her.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked, pulling her top down over her breasts and smoothing it down her stomach, “Dawn’s only just gone to bed.”
“We need to talk about why you’re avoiding me.” he said straight to the point.
“No we don’t.” she said a little harshly.
Spike looked angry, but he tried to hide it, because he knew it wasn’t fair to get angry at her right now, she didn’t need that.
Rightly or wrongly that’s what Buffy was counting on and she used it to ignore his concerns. “Let’s just go to bed.” she said, pulling back the covers and putting an end to it.
“Buffy.” he said, trying to pull away from her kiss. It had happened so fast that he didn’t know how she’d done this to him; he was shaking with restrained passion, hard as a rock against her. One minute he’d been saying good night, she’d been looking at him blankly and then suddenly she was like this. He had to talk to her; she obviously didn’t know what she wanted from one minute to the next.
“Don’t.” she panted, kissing him again when she felt him hesitate and pull away.
He wanted to remember how she’d been dodging him all day, how she’d refused to acknowledge his need for openness with their remaining family. He wanted to tell her he was here for her, but that they couldn’t go on like this forever; he wanted to remind her that eventually he would need more from her.
He wanted to say all that, but the words wouldn’t come out. His hands held her in a bruising grip, needing to feel her physically if she wouldn’t be there for him emotionally; telling himself all those things he needed to say could wait for a better time, and until then this was enough.
It didn’t take him long to come around to her idea, pulling down her top to let her breasts out to the cool night air he forgot that they’d had words earlier at all. He forgot that something didn’t feel right between them when she reached down to softly trace his erection with her palm. As he buried his head between her bust and kissed her chest she got firmer with her strokes and he forgot that his father was drinking himself into an early grave, and that if he succeeded it would be the end of them all for sure. As he turned his head to the side and started kissing her right breast he forgot that their family was falling apart, that it was killing her and that she wouldn’t let him help.
She moaned in relief as if his mouth was unwinding her strains with each kiss. She needed the release more than she’d realised, but above everything she knew she just needed him. She wanted to tell him what he needed to hear, she wanted to be better for him, she wanted to make this work, but this was all she could manage because words were too hard.
He brushed a hand down her thigh as her phone started buzzing.
He took one of her nipples into his mouth. “Ignore it.” he said around her flesh then released it with a pop.
“I can’t.” she gasped.
He moved up and bit down on her neck.
“Spike.” she begged. It was half a gasp because she liked it, but he also knew she wasn’t begging for him to continue, so he let out a frustrated groan and rolled away.
She looked over and just as she thought her phone had an incoming call from a family friend, she had to take it no matter the ridiculous hour because it could be about the funeral, and that was her job; there was no one else to pick up after her anymore.
She clicked the answer button, got off the bed and took it outside.
Spike calmed himself down, waiting for her to return, but when she came back in something was off and she looked like she’d been crying. Spike knew she would never have cried on the phone where someone could hear her unless she was really losing it. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he had to say something. He sat up, all frustration forgotten, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” she said shortly, wiping her eyes. “Let’s go to bed.”
She climbed in, without looking at him or even turning to him. She switched off the light and when he went to snuggle up to her she pulled away. He let her be, deciding to sleep at the other side of the bed; if she didn’t want to talk she didn’t have to. She’d let him in tomorrow if she didn’t tonight. That’s what he’d been thinking ever since they’d got here, but she had to eventually, didn’t she?