Chapter 19
As he straightened up, his palms damp with melting snow, for a second he couldn’t remember why he’d been kneeling on the ground in the first place. He was dizzy, but it passed quickly.
He met Buffy’s unfocused gaze, wondering if she’d felt it too. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I feel weird.”
“Me too.” He frowned, cold winter wind whipping his cheeks. “I feel as if… as if I should remember something.”
She shook her head, eyes lighting up. “Cutting down that tree? It’s not going to do it by itself.”
He looked at the saw lying on the ground and bent down to pick it up, grinning. “Right. Must be it. Hope Little Bit doesn’t wake up before we get back.”
“Stop making me worry, you jerk. Now start sawing, so we can get back quickly.” She tucked her gloved hands under her armpits. “I’m freezing.”
He started to saw, leering. “I love it when you’re bossy. Gets me all hot and bothered.”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks reddened just the same, and he knew it wasn’t just from the cold. “Hold that thought, Romeo.”
And hold it he did, right until they got back to the cabin, the warmth slowly sinking into his chilly skin and bones.
“Can’t wait to get you out of these clothes,” he said, propping the tree against the wall before taking off his coat and pulling her in by her waist.
“Mmm, I love you.”
“Love you too, you sexy wench,” he said, kissing her soft and slow, warming her up. He was just about to roll her onto the couch for a spot of snogging when the door creaked open and Emma walked out, rubbing her bleary eyes.
“Daddy?”
“Oh, sorry, love. Did we wake you up?”
She nodded and stretched her arms out. He picked her up and kissed her forehead. The life of a parent. There were only so many moments when he could catch a break. This was not one of them.
“Can you read me a story again?”
“You’ve already had one,” he reminded her as Buffy rubbed Emma’s pajama clad back.
“Please?” She pouted, her eyes big and pitiful, and bloody hell, he couldn’t say no.
“All right. But only a short one.”
“Can you tell me the one about the lady huntress and the demon again?”
“That’s a long one,” he said at the same time Buffy said, “I’m totally the lady huntress.”
“Then just tell me the part when they fall in love. I want to hear the happy ending! Happy endings solve everything!”
“Even sleepiness?” he asked, that strange sense of déjà vu washing over him again. If only he could remember what it was that he was forgetting.
“Yup,” Emma said, smiling.
Buffy bit his shoulder and squeezed his behind and yeah, he had to hurry this one up. “Quick story time it is.”
*******
The bed was too narrow, the air slightly damp and there was a spring in the mattress digging into her hip. But here in the quiet stale air of the basement with water rushing through the pipes over her head, she could admit to herself that she’d rather lie here with Spike’s arm over her waist and his legs tangled with hers than go up and sleep in her comfy bed on her own.
He muttered something into the back of her neck, voice still raspy from sleep. It really shouldn’t have made her flush from head to toes.
“Hmm?” she asked, closing her eyes when he pulled her in even tighter, nuzzling the back of her head.
“You awake?”
“No,” she said. Not awake. Too comfy here, don’t make me move. “Don’t let the whole talking thing fool you.”
He laughed his real genuine laugh, the one she’d only ever heard a handful of times. She wanted to catch that sound and tuck it away for the times she’d feel sad. For the times she’d no longer get to have him like this.
“You smell sleepy, still,” he said and she just knew he was sniffing her hair. He was dumb. And the way he stroked his way up her arm and ended up brushing her hair away from her face, fingers massaging her scalp, was also dumb. But she was even dumber, because the fear of losing this and being judged for making a wrong choice again kind of made her want to cry.
“Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s going to be different, isn’t it?”
The hand in her hair stilled. “Yeah. Afraid so.”
She let out a breath, hugged the corner of the sheets to her chest. “How did we end up in this mess?”
“Do you want me to start chronologically or alphabetically?”
She snorted, hating him a little bit for making her feel something in the first place. This complicated mess of want and need, vulnerability and fondness. The way his smile or a simple look could make her heart feel as though it was too big to fit inside her chest. “Can’t we just not get up? Do you think anyone would notice?”
“Don’t think it works like that,” he said, but his hold tightened. “The second you didn’t answer the phone, your mates would assemble the cavalry. White hats.” He scoffed.
“Hey. White hat myself, buddy.”
“One with a naughty streak a mile wide.” He played with the hem of her T-shirt. “I can live with that,” he said, thinking why haven’t you kicked me to the curb yet when you have so much to lose.
“Says the person who stripped down to nothing in front of his mortal enemy. Back when, you know, we still disliked each other.”
“Someone needs to have her definition of naughty redefined,” he teased, his hand slipping beneath her T-shirt and drifting over her taut belly. “That’s just my usual bed routine.”
“Mmm… I know.” She wriggled against him, and yeah, this wasn’t helping.
“Is that all you’re gonna say?”
“What?” she said, defensively. “Maybe I like it when you’re naked.”
He nibbled on her shoulder, choking back an unmanly giggle. “So scandalous.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen scandalous yet.”
When she twisted around in his embrace, hooked her thigh over his hip and rubbed against him in just the right way to make his brain short out, he knew then that he loved her naughty side. Loved… loved her other sides too. The self-righteous, stuck up one that drove him insane, her belligerent one that had him torn between fearing for his unlife and wanting to bend her over the nearest sturdy surface, the soft one she’d let slip unknowingly and even the one that would leave her tired and lazy, dressed in sweats with her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Fuck.
“I wish we could stay here for hours,” she whispered, her lips pressed to his collarbone.
“Yeah,” he said, thinking I miss you already.
*******
Joyce knew something was wrong but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It had started when she’d caught Buffy sneaking out of the basement, claiming to have been doing laundry, of all things. Since when had Buffy ever done laundry without having to be told?
She’d shaken it off, of course. If Buffy wanted to do the messy part of being an adult, who was Joyce to complain?
She sat at the kitchen counter with the newspaper spread in front of her and a mug of coffee cradled in her hands.
“Thank you for the presents, Mom. Loved them, really.” Buffy came over and kissed her cheek before she went back to ransacking the cupboards, eating cereal straight out of the box. Joyce had tried teaching her manners, she really had.
“I’m glad you like them, honey.”
“Sorry I didn’t get you anything cooler. Like that dusty old vase Spike gave you.” She pouted, stuffing her cheeks full. It was a sight.
“You know whatever you give me will always be my favourite.”
Buffy arched her eyebrow and it felt a bit like déjà vu. “Oh, really? Because you totally fangirled. It’s fine though,” she said, chewing with her mouth open. Joyce just sighed. “Spike’s totally old. Just one antique from another.”
“Watch it,” Spike said from behind her and Joyce wasn’t ashamed to admit that she jumped a little. “’M not old. I’m experienced. There’s a difference.”
“You’re also old, Mr. I-lived-before-cars-existed.”
“Touché,” Spike said with a shrug and Joyce wondered where the malice had gone. Maybe she should thank the Christmas spirit. “You’re lucky you don’t have to breathe in the stink of the horse shit and smoke. Because that’s what London smelled like in my time. Glamourous, eh?”
“Ew.”
As they bantered back and forth, there it was again, that restless feeling, as though she was missing the picture that was right in front of her face. Buffy turned back to the sink while Spike stepped right behind her to reach into the cupboard over Buffy’s shoulder. His other hand briefly settled on Buffy’s hip and it was… Joyce felt as if she was intruding, all of a sudden. Which was ridiculous, because Buffy couldn’t stand Spike at all. And now he’d just touched her and she wasn’t punching him in the face.
Joyce didn’t understand.
She pretended to read the newspaper, watching them out of the corner of her eye with mounting confusion. It was just… they way they moved. It was different. When Spike stepped back and poured his blood into the mug, Buffy was already holding her hand out. He handed it to her without a word and she put it into the microwave, punching in the time and temperature. When she moved to sit, he did too, almost in synch. As if they were the opposite sides of two magnets. But the thing was, they didn’t even seem to notice they were doing it at all. It seemed… natural. As if they were moving to a beat they’d been practicing for ages.
I’m just tired. Tired and reading too much into things.
Joyce took another sip of her coffee and tried to push the questions into the back of her mind.
*******
“We’re totally acting normal,” Buffy said, flopping onto the couch next to him. “She doesn’t notice anything’s different.”
“I bloody well hope not. Not keen on becoming an eunuch.”
“True. I prefer you with a penis.” Her eyes widened almost comically and he just wanted to roll her under him and kiss her breathless.
“Do you, now?”
“Yes. No. I mean… that’s not what I was… ugh.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “You know what? I’d like you even if you didn’t have a penis. How is that?”
“Are you going soft on me now?”
She made the funniest face when she was trying to hide a smile. He wondered if she knew she was doing it at all.
“Well, hope you’re not.” And then she got that dangerous gleam in her eyes that made him feel like prey. She crawled over to him, her hand sliding up his thigh, higher and higher until she was hovering over the growing bulge in his jeans. Since when had she become so wicked? He might love her for that too. Pathetic. Pathetic and doomed, that’s what he was.
“Uh, Buff—”
She put her palm over him and squeezed. Maybe he could learn to live with that.
“Nope. Not soft.”
“Fuck. I want you.”
“Shh. Mom could wake up from her nap, come down and see, and then what?” She pulled away, smirking and putting her feet on the coffee table with a happy sigh.
“And they say I’m evil.” Buffy could give him a run for his money.
“I learn from the best,” she replied and stole the remote control from his slack hand. Yeah, take it. You’ve already taken everything I have anyway.
He wished it bothered him more.
TBC
[Reviews - 127]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 1725 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Previously: Buffy and Spike are back in SunnyD, but only Willow and Tara remember the other Spuffy, and Buffy snuck into the basement because she totally wanted Spike cuddles. We can't blame you, Buffy! Go get that hot piece of vampire ass. (sorry I may have had too much chocolate, it makes me exuberant)
Beta'd by All4Spike. She's lovely and I love her forever.
Beta'd by All4Spike. She's lovely and I love her forever.
Chapter End Notes:
Happy Easter to everyone! :)