CHAPTER SEVEN:

It was with some trepidation that Buffy stood outside her mother's room, about to visit Spike the following morning. She was sure, as much as she could be, that she wanted to be with Spike, to give him a chance. Despite her mother's encouragement and Dawn's assurances, Buffy still wasn't completely sure he'd want to give her a chance. After all, she'd pretty much treated him like... well, like a monster, like something she'd wiped off the bottom of her shoe. She had to wonder how he could still want her after all she'd put him through.

Also in the back of her mind was the niggling worry that she just wasn't good girlfriend material. She only had to look at her last two boyfriends and how horribly those relationships had turned out for proof of that. Her anxiety about any kind of romantic connection had grown steadily since her relationships with Angel and Riley had imploded, leaving her insecure and anxious about trying again. Luckily, the support of her mother and sister made her feel a bit better, and made the prospect less daunting than it could have been.

As Buffy stood outside the door, trying to steel her nerve, her inner voice started its too-familiar chant of doubt.

'What if he doesn't want me anymore, what if I’ve left it too late? What if I’ve treated him too horribly to be forgiven? What if I can't live up to the image he has in his mind? He's been in love with me for a long time, long enough to build me up as everything he wants, that's a lot to live up to! What if I’m just not good enough?'

Buffy closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, calling on her mother's words of encouragement to shut the negative voice up. She thought of Spike, remembering the lengths to which he had gone, the sacrifices he had made for her, the prices he willingly paid, for her, for her family. Surely he wouldn't have done that if he didn't love her... would he?

Buffy suddenly wished her mom was here, standing next to her, reassuring her again, helping her calm the wasps that were buzzing in her stomach, threatening to sting her any moment. But, her mother wasn't here. No one was here but her and Spike. Joyce, having talked to Buffy before breakfast, had established that today was the day that Spike and Buffy would discuss what they meant to each other. She had wisely volunteered to clear out of the house, taking Dawn with her to the mall for an impromptu shopping trip. Initially, Joyce had resisted the shopping aspect of the trip, they weren't terribly strapped for money, but they weren't rolling in it either, and it was a bit early for back-to-school shopping. But, Buffy assured her mom that, after talking to Spike about … personal things, that she'd bring up the topic of his gift to the Summers family. With that generous gift, money would really be no issue at all. They were living comfortably as it was, that was obvious, but, if the generosity of Spike was accepted, then money worries would be a thing of the past.

So it was, with the house empty, Buffy took one more deep breath, let it out slowly, and pressed her doubts away. Resolved, she pushed open the door and went inside, closing it behind her.

As she walked slowly into the room, she took in his form, lying on the bed, still battered, bruised and broken, but thankfully on the mend. She again steeled herself for the conversation that could change what they were to each other, forever.

“Spike? You awake?”

Spike shifted slightly and made the slow move to sit up, wincing as his broken and shattered ribs protested and grated against each other.

“Yeah, pet, I’m up, what d'ya need?”

She crossed to the bed quickly, before he'd completed his slow, painful rise, and gently eased him back down.

“No, no, stay there, just lie back, I just wanted to talk, that OK?”

He smiled at her, being aware that it was just two of them in the house, having heard Joyce and the bit leave a short while ago. He was pleased that she would choose to spend time with him. There's no way he would turn her away, not for blood or money.

“Sure, luv, what's rattling 'round in that lovely noggin' o' yours?”

Oh shit, this was it. Now came the talking … with the words and sentences and all that crazy stuff. She so wasn't good at this. The wasps started buzzing in her stomach again as she tried to remember the words she'd practiced … but they eluded her. She'll just have to wing it.

“OK... so here's the thing,” Buffy began as she got up off the bed and began pacing slowly, hoping the movement of her feet would somehow spur her brain into action and let her say the things that she wanted to say.

“While you've been here, some things have happened to me, good things … I think good things, and I need to talk to you about them.... I just don't know how to say them.”

Spike watched her curiously, trying to read her face, see what was going on behind those deep, beautiful eyes of hers. Something had obviously unsettled her, she seemed tense and nervous.... beyond that, he didn't have a clue.

“Right then. Well, reckon you've got a captive audience, luv, what with me barely able to move and all. Just come out and say whatever it is that's got you all wound up. You can pretty much tell me anything, not gonna bite your head off … chipped remember?” Spike tried to joke to lighten her mood.

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes as she paced back and forth, wringing her hands nervously. If it was only that easy! She took a deep breath and steeled her nerve again, again pressing her doubts and insecurities back down. “OK, before I tell you, I want to make this clear, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’ve spoken to Dawn and Mom, and they both agree with me, so now... well, it's your turn I guess.”

Spike tilted his head and studied her, realization slowly dawning on him. “Buffy?” he asked softly, a tremor of grim comprehension tingeing the single word.

She stopped pacing and looked at him, meeting his eyes. Spike's eyes bored into hers like azure lasers, delving beneath the surface with an intensity he could swear she could physically feel.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, pet, but think I’ve sussed it out already.”

“You have?” Buffy asked anxiously, chewing on her bottom lip. The way he was looking at her made those wasps begin stinging her belly. Oh, no … she was too late. She'd treated him too badly for too long. Mom and Dawn had been wrong, He didn't want her anymore … she could see it in his eyes; they were burning her, burning her with his disdain. She felt hot tears sting the back of her eyes and her breath caught in her throat as she waited … waited for the words she knew were coming: 'I don't want you. I don't love you.'

“Yeah, I think so. You, bit and Joyce think it's time for me to leave, yeah? Now that I’m sort of on the mend, that I should go back to my crypt, right? I’m guessing the watcher and whelp have been bending all your ears 'bout letting me stay 'ere, and now that I’m almost back on my feet, they want me gone. That about cover it?”

Buffy stared at him, thinking for a moment that she'd misunderstood him. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, trying to let his words fully register in her brain. The sad acceptance on his face, the look in his eyes, almost like he'd been expecting this, made her bristle with indignation. He honestly thought, after all he had done, that she and her family would just kick him to the curb once they knew he would survive!

Her anxious worry suddenly turned into indignant anger. “WHAT?! NO! How could you think that? Why would you think that? Jesus, Spike! You really think we'd do that?”

Spike's brows rose nearly into his hairline, his eyes widening in surprise at her vehement denial.

“Well, if it's not that, then what?... I can't think of anything else.”

Buffy's anger faded at the confused look on his face … of course he'd think that. What else would he think based on the years of abuse she'd doled out to him? Buffy took a deep breath, trying to calm back down, to settle her nerves and kill those damn wasps that kept buzzing in her stomach.

She tried to dip into the pool of courage she used every night as the slayer to defeat her anxiety, to allay her insecurities. This was different though, the courage she had for fighting and surviving was an instinctual thing, something that came to her without effort or thought. This … this, was a different kind of courage that she needed now. This was personal; this was the girl, not the slayer. She could slay demons and vampires until the cows came home, and then she could even slay the cows, but slaying her own internal demons seemed beyond her grasp.

Spike watched Buffy's face, watched her fight her emotions, watched her expression turn from angry back to apprehensive and worried again. He could usually read her … he prided himself on seeing the truth of people, but he was lost now. He had no idea what she was trying to say to him.

“Buffy, luv,” he cajoled at last. “Just tell me, pet.”

Buffy refocused her apprehensive eyes on his confused ones and took a deep breath. She only needed … twenty seconds. Twenty seconds of insane courage, twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery to get through this. Twenty seconds of strength could change everything. She could do it … twenty seconds … she could do it.

“OK, I want you to listen to me, and don't interrupt until I’m finished. I don't need you derailing my thought train and sending it bouncing off over the prairie like a giant possessed snake … only, you know, one made out of train, with segments that all accordion up and crash and burn and ...”

Again, Spike brows lifted in surprise as he listened to her prattle away. Wow … she only did this when she was really nervous.

“... and send the buffalo all scattering out of the way … 'Cos my thought train is one of those old ones, ya know … like in the old west with the smoke and all the Indians, uh, I mean … Native Americans chasing it and... buffalo... or are they bison? I never can figure out the difference... but, you know, like in that movie... what was that movie?” she pondered, her brow furrowing in thought. When she saw the slightly amused look on Spike's face and his raised brows, she sighed and stopped talking, realizing she'd been rambling.

Buffy took another deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing herself to simply calm down. “Just … don't interrupt until I’m done, okay?”

Spike just nodded and waited, clearly acknowledging her request.

“I don't know where to start with this, you know I’m horrible with words, except when I get diarrhoea of the mouth... which is a great visual... geez, Buffy! Okay! Forget that! Here's the thing... I’ve had some pretty important things pointed out to me over the last few days and they've made me realise things that I should have realised a long time ago. You remember that night, before the tower, when you told me that you knew you were a monster and that I would never love you?”

Spike just nodded, watching her intensely. He had no clue where she was going with this, but was prepared to let her get there her way: on her meandering train, through the Indians and bison and across the prattling prairie.

“You were wrong. You're not a monster, Spike. It took me a while to figure it out, but you're not. A monster wouldn't have saved my sister that night, regardless of whether you think you failed or not. You tried, and in the end, you did your best and Dawn's still alive because of you. You endured torture at the hands of a god, fought beside me and protected my sister. A monster wouldn't have done that. You were wrong,” she repeated. That part felt familiar and comfortable. Spike was wrong. She clung to that little sliver of normality, drawing strength from it, courage.

Buffy forced a smile to her lips, trying to keep her tears at bay as her emotions welled inside her. Thinking of everything he'd done for her was one thing; to lay them all out in the open between them was something else.

Spike tried to take all her words in and make some sense of them. Just what exactly was she trying to say? He was wrong. Well, wouldn't be the first time she thought him wrong, but wrong about what? About being a monster? About her never being able to love him? Did he dare allow her garbled words to light a spark of hope in his heart? Did she have any idea how easily that spark could dust him if she pulled the hope away from him again?

“I found out from Mom that you've been playing bodyguard for her too; having coffee with her on her late nights at the gallery, and making sure that she gets home safe. Hell, you go down there and keep her company when she's alone, that's more than I do! You protected my family the best way you know how, and you did it without me knowing, so you couldn't even take the credit for it. That's not how a monster behaves, Spike.”

Spike swallowed hard and blinked back emotions that had suddenly blurred his vision. He wasn't a monster. Buffy... the Slayer said he's not a monster. Spike's unnecessary breath caught in his chest. Did that mean that... could she ever.... was it possible...? He dared not let hope spark in his heart for more; it would kill him.

Buffy took another breath, thankful that Spike, for once, was doing as she asked and staying quiet. Her twenty seconds of bravery were up... but she still had so much more to say. Twenty more seconds... she did it once, she could do it again.

Buffy reached out and took his cool hand in her hot, sweaty ones, meeting his gaze, looking directly into his eyes. She needed the importance of these things, and others yet to come, to be perfectly clear to him.

Keeping her eyes on his she continued, “And you watch my back, whether I want you to or not, when I'm patrolling. I know I’m not always grateful... okay, never grateful...” she admitted at Spike's sceptical look. “...but you still do it, you still try and help me, even when I didn't want you to.”

Spike couldn't hold it in any longer, he had to say something, even if it was a few simple words, they still needed to be said.

“Know you don't want to hear it, Buffy, but I do love you. What else am I supposed to do?”

Buffy felt her heart leap in her chest, then begin thudding against her ribs. The wasps in her stomach morphed into excited butterflies, fluttering wildly inside her. She gripped Spike's hand harder as she felt relief wash over her... maybe she wasn't too late after all.

“That's what this is all about Spike... this... this talk... with the words and the trains and all. I... I do believe you, when you say you love me. That's what all these revelations the last few days have been about. I know you love me, I believe you love me, after all you've done, how could I not? We got the letter, Spike. Mom got it the morning after the tower. For you to do something like that, write something like that, after everything I’d done to you... I know you love me.”

Spike was looking into her eyes as she spoke, but he could barely believe what he was hearing. That spark of hope that he'd been pushing away leapt to life in his heart. He couldn't stop it... couldn't fight it another moment. She was just too close, holding his hand too tightly, looking into his eyes too earnestly, telling him she believed him, telling him he wasn't a monster.

Spike swallowed and forced himself to draw in a breath, trying to steady his voice. It didn't completely work; he could still hear a bit of emotional tremble tinge his words. He hoped she didn't notice. “S-so, are you going to accept it? The cash, I mean? I want you to have it, and like I said, it's all above board, no shady dealings or stolen stuff. It's all mine, and it should set you, Joyce and Dawn up for a long time, life even, if you don't go crazy with it.”

Buffy nodded and took a breath also, trying to calm her nerves before she spoke. “If you're really, really sure you want us to have it... are you really super-sure? That's a lot of money, Spike. And I know when you did it you thought--”

“I'm sure,” Spike interrupted her. “I've never had need of it, have I? Never touched a bloody penny of it. Could mean a lot t' you, the bit and your mum, yeah? Could really... help. Would be... fitting, I reckon. My mum would've been...” Spike cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I'm sure,” he asserted again.

Buffy quickly blinked back more salty tears and nodded again. “Then, yes. As long as you're uber-sure. Mom, Dawn and I have talked about it, and if that's what you really want then... yes. Mom and Dawn both want to talk to you about it too. It's really an amazing gift for us, Spike. Thank you.”

She leaned in and placed a chaste, gentle kiss to his lips, much like she had done under the guise of the Buffy-bot, as a thank you after the torture he had suffered at the hand of Glory. She pulled back to see the shocked expression on his face and couldn't help the smile that came to her lips.

Buffy's lips on his made that spark of hope inside him ignite as if she'd poured petrol on it. Spike felt joy and fear and surprise and trepidation and excitement all battle for control of his emotions. He'd been dead for over a century, and yet, at this moment he felt surprisingly alive. Words escaped him; he suddenly felt like William again, shy and unsure... but so full of hope and love... and... God, if she took that away from him...

Spike shifted uncomfortably, his eyes leaving hers, suddenly unsure of what to say or do, suddenly afraid that he'd read too much into her words and actions. This was Buffy. This was the Slayer. He was nothing but a soulless creature of the night... perhaps not a monster, but certainly not a man. His chest tightened painfully... he'd been foolish to allow that hope to spark and burn inside him.

“There's something else, too. It's.... it's.... ….”

Spike's eyes darted back to hers. He was sure he could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage... threatening to break them, threatening to dust him. “Buffy?”

Now it was Buffy's turn to shift her eyes from his ardent gaze, though she never let go of his hand. Twenty seconds... could she do it again? Maybe just... just three seconds of bravery... that was all she could manage now. She bravely lifted her gaze back to his before summoning every ounce of courage she had left.“I want to try, Spike. You and me. I want to be with you. I want to give us a chance.”

Silence.

Buffy's tremulous breathing was the only sound in the room. It was almost as of they'd both been frozen in place, neither moving, their eyes locked on each other's, green on blue, unwavering, unblinking. Outside, the world continued... birds sang, a dog barked, cars rolled by on the pavement, but in here, everything had stopped.

Spike couldn't believe it. He was afraid to believe it. He couldn't take it all in, process it. Buffy had just told him she wanted him, to try with him. For there to be an us.

“Spike? Say something... anything.”

Spike closed his eyes, breaking the connection, willing his brain and mouth to start working from the same page. It was too much; he'd just been given everything he wanted. Buffy had told him she wanted to be with him. The spark of hope, for once, had not been extinguished with brutal, hurtful words. His heart, for once, had not been burned to ashes because of its foolishness.

“Please, say something,” Buffy begged, her heart in her throat. “Tell me I didn't wait too long, that I’m not too late.” Buffy couldn't keep her voice level as she tried to see what was going in inside that head of his, but with his eyes closed, she couldn't read him. She felt those butterflies in her stomach start to morph back into wasps. Was she too late, after all? Had she done too many horrible things for him to forgive her? Was she simply not good enough... not girlfriend material?

Spike let out a deep breath, opened his eyes, now shining with unshed tears. He gently pulled his hand from her grasp reached for her with his good arm. Placing a hand at the back of her neck, he pulled her down to him and kissed her. It would be a moment in his life that he swore to himself that he would remember until he dusted.

Buffy had expected him to say something, eventually, to give her an answer, so the scant few seconds she had since realising what he was doing were not enough to prepare her for this. The kiss was slow and gentle, but set her body aflame nonetheless. His lips caressed hers with a softness that she hadn't expected, and his movements were slow and light, changing in focus from her top lip to her bottom and back again. A sigh of contentment escaped Buffy's throat and her mouth opened around his luscious lips. A fraction of a second later, his mouth mirrored hers and then, with a gentle breath in through her nose, their tongues began a slow dance together.

'Oh, God, he's a good kisser, why didn't I do this sooner? He seems to know what I want before I do, so he's already there waiting for me. And it feels so right, too, like this is what I’ve been waiting to do to him since we met. How could I have been so stupid?'

Buffy's brain seemed as though it had disappeared into a room and locked the door. All she could do was feel, focus on the sensation of finally kissing him, his tongue in her mouth, dancing and sliding over hers, with perhaps not completely unexpected consequences happening elsewhere in her body.

Her hands had moved to cup his face, needing another connection as they battled, slowly, softly, gently. She could feel something like sparks or pulses travelling through her, causing muscle twitches here and bone melting there. Her nipples had pebbled in her bra, scraping the material and sending more sparks down her body to her core.

For the second time in three days, she knew she would need a change of underwear thanks to Spike.

Her channel throbbed, her cream flowed, and her clit pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She could feel a warmth spreading from her pussy to her lower belly and a light pressure building inside her. She clenched her muscles, tightening her core, trying to ease some of the feelings building there, but all this succeeded in doing was forcing more of her juices to flow free from her pussy, dampening her panties even more.

Finally, with a gasp of breath, they separated, Spike pressing his forehead against hers and taking a couple of unneeded breaths too. Placing another light kiss to her lips, he pulled back to look at her in all her flushed glory.

“You're not too late, Buffy. I love you, you know that, or you should by now, just needed some time to process, that's all. I... you... you really want to try... with me?”

Buffy smiled at him and nodded, still feeling slightly dazed in the most pleasant of ways, as her brain tried to regain its normal function. The fear and anxiety that had been buzzing inside her had been melted away as well, both by his kiss and his words. She wasn't too late. He did still love her. Taking another unsteady breath, she tried to continue on from where she had left off before the brain-melting kiss. She'd been talking about something... it was important. What was it?

Buffy shook her head to clear away the dreamy fog... not that she really wanted it cleared, but she was sure there was more she'd wanted to say. Finally, it came to her. “I... I do want to try... with you. I wasn't sure if you'd still want to, Spike. I... I’m really glad I’m not too late.”

Buffy took another breath, the other things she wanted to say coming back to her. “I want us to try, Spike, but I also want us to go slow, to really try and build something, for both of us. That OK with you?”

Spike was suddenly more animated than she'd seen him in days. His blue eyes glittered and a little-boy grin spread across his face “Are you kidding?? You've just told me I can everything I’ve ever dreamed of! It's more than OK, it's bloody brilliant! We do this your way, Buffy, understand? I don't want to do anything that could screw this up, so you set the rules, pet, and I’ll follow them.”

She smiled again; even let a little chuckle escape her lips at his enthusiasm. 'Why did I wait so long for this?'

“OK, well, Dawn and Mom already know about this, about me talking to you... of course they didn't know what you'd say. Well... OK, maybe they did, but not for sure, right? 'Cos, well, how could they know for sure until you'd said it... and... I’m rambling again.” Buffy took another breath, only this time it calmed her glee, her excitement. Her heart was racing, not from fear or anxiety now, but rather from exhilaration. “OK, so the next step is gonna be telling everyone else, but I want you to understand, they don't get a say in this. What we choose to do is our business, no one else’s, and seeing as how Mom and Dawn are on-board already, I have all the support that really matters to me.”

“You sure about that, pet? Reckon I know better than anyone what your little Scooby-pals mean to you. Seems t' me what they think has always been right important to ya. I can't see the watcher or the whelp throwing us a bloody parade when they hear the news.”

Buffy took his hand in hers, looked into his concerned, blue eyes, and spoke with an air of resolve and determination.

“They don't get a say. For once, I’m gonna do what I want to do, and not let them talk me out of it. If they're my friends, they'll respect my decision, just like I've respected theirs over the years. And, anyway, I don't need a parade... they don't throw chocolate, just those lame Jolly Ranchers... what the hell kinda name is that for a candy, anyway? Seems kinda....kinky. Eating a Jolly Rancher... has to make you wonder why the rancher is so jolly, doesn't it? ”

Spike laughed and shook his head. “You got a bloody good way o' looking at the world, luv. Never thought o' that, myself.”

Buffy shrugged. “I'm full of all sorts of surprises,” she assured him. Lying down beside him, she pressed herself against his left side, his uninjured side, and placed a gentle kiss to his lips.

“C'mon, rest, we need to get you back on your feet. There's supposed to be a celebratory dinner once you're up and about again. We saved the world, remember? Well, you saved the world, this time, we just helped. So c'mon, you get some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of having Buffy so close to him and trying to calm his racing mind. She was going to give him a chance, give them a chance. He couldn't stop that spark of hope that had been burning in his chest from setting off a joyful barrage of brilliant, sparkling fireworks in his heart. It was almost too much for him to take in; he almost thought he was dreaming. 'I suppose I'll find out when I wake up, and she's still here, won't I?'

“I love you, Buffy.”

“I know, Spike, I know. Now, sleep. I’ll be here, I promise.”

So it was, that when Joyce and Dawn came home later in the day, they found the pair, curled around each-other, asleep.

Joyce stood in the doorway, observing the two, smiling to herself. It seemed as though Buffy had managed to get Spike to listen to her, and that, for once, her daughter was going to take her happiness in hand and do what she wanted to do, regardless of her friends' opinions. Pulling the door closed, they left the slumbering pair to their peaceful dreams and each other.