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I almost wasn't going to post this, but I found a brief moment in the insanity, so here it is. Enjoy

[A/N: The title is a Welsh word meaning homesick. But its not the kind of homesickness you get when you are away at summer camp or even when you’ve moved away from home. This is the kind of homesickness that is in your soul, when you yearn for a place that you’ve never been before, or that is so soul-deep that you can’t recover from being away from it. It’s the soul-deep yearning that most Celts carry for our homelands . . for the hills and valleys of the Highlands, for the sea of Ireland (and land so green it hurts your eyes) and for the wild coast and lands of Wales. The quotes are as attributed. Again, thank you so much for the lovely reviews.]

Previously: Giles got more information from Willow; and then she and Tara had it out, although they’ve reconciled momentarily. And Buffy finally told Spike about where she’s been. Just one more endless night on the hellmouth.

20. Hireath

I think I’ll be homesick for you, even in heaven
Little Women screenplay, 1933 (Katharine Hepburn)

Comfort’s in heaven, and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief.
Richard II, act 2, sc 2

Are not the days of my life few? Let me alone, that I may find a little Comfort before I go, never to return, to the land of gloom and deep darkness,
The land of gloom and chaos, where light is like darkness.
The Book of Job 10:20


Salty tears slipped down her cheeks landing in the puddle of melting ice cream. Spike was a silent sentinel beside her, frozen in place by her admission. There were no words he could use to convey his thoughts or feelings at this moment. Nothing he could say that would console her. The tears formed a little pool, watering down the creamy substance and he watched helplessly as more and more fell. He wanted to cry along with her, wanted to roar his rage at heaven for letting her go, but mostly he wanted to reach into the next room and eviscerate Willow.

The room was deathly silent, neither one of them able to speak. She couldn’t believe she’d just blurted it out, telling him that way. She couldn’t look, dare not look at him, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

Moving very slowly, Spike put the ice cream down, then moved to take hers from her lax hand. The bed creaked as he moved, the noise very loud in the still air. He shifted his weight to rest against the headboard. Looking up at the ceiling, Spike made a visible effort to control his raging temper. Not good for her, to see him angry like this, she’d think that it was directed at her. Or worse, try to defend Willow. That he couldn’t handle right now.

Not when he wanted to kill her and hang her entrails from his DeSoto.

Gaining the upper hand on his emotions, Spike reached out a hand to brush down Buffy’s arm. At his touch, she crumpled. The tears gave way to soft hiccuping sobs and she buried her face in her hands.

Without a word, he lifted her up from her spot next to him, cradling her in his arms. Holding her to his chest, Spike hid his own tears from her.


******************************* *******************************


Tara lay stiffly beside Willow all night, sleep elusive and, when it came, restless and dream filled. Sometime in the minutes before dawn, Tara grabbed her pillow and crept from the room.

She should’ve stuck to her guns earlier and slept on the couch. Every little noise Willow made grated on her nerves just adding to her tension. She figured if she tried to get some sleep on the couch she might not be in such a horrible mood come morning.

For the first time since she’d known Willow, Tara wasn’t happy. She’d thought they were a couple, partners. Partners didn’t keep huge secrets from each other, didn’t make decisions without the other – didn’t drug each other. Every time she thought about it, her stomach clenched and her throat got all tight and sore.

And Willow acted like nothing had happened.

Tara suddenly realized that not once had Willow apologized for any of her actions.

******************************* *******************************


There was no comforting thump beneath her ear, no sound to indicate that someone held her. No sound but her own heartbeat and sniffles. Yet it didn’t matter. Strongly muscled arms held her close, shallow breaths wafted over her head. Tears slid down her cheeks only to be absorbed into the black cotton against her face.

Neither one of them spoke. She, because she’d exhausted all her words in one stark sentence, and now her tears spoke more eloquently. Spike stayed silent because the words of rage were not for her ears.

He brushed a gentle hand down her back his thumb tracing circles endlessly. She leaned closer into his embrace almost as if she wanted to crawl into his skin. His tears of rage and sorrow fell on her hair unnoticed by her. Absently, he brushed them away with one hand, then, in a natural motion given their position, wiped his hand down her cheek to wipe her tears away.


His hand cupped her cheek and she sighed into it. Wrapping his arms around her again, Spike dropped his head to rest on hers, automatically kissing the top of her head. She shifted closer, her head now in the crook of his neck, her nose just under his chin. A soft shudder moved through her and he slowly moved to get the throw blanket from the foot of the bed. She mewled a protect at his motion but quickly settled when he drew the blanket around them.

His hand went back to rubbing circles on her back. Buffy sighed against his neck.

Sometimes great revelations come in the middle of a hectic, noise filled day. Sometimes they come after long hours of thought and contemplation. Sometimes they come after taking apart a situation and looking at it with fresh eyes. But sometimes, revelations come in the middle of the night, held tight in the embrace of someone you shouldn’t care about. Sometimes, great revelations sneak up and you don’t realize you’ve reached it until the moment is upon you.

Cuddled in Spike’s embrace, her tears drying on his shirt, Buffy came to a realization, a profound revelation. She was safe. Safer than she’d ever been. Possibly even safer than she’d been as a small child. Definitely the safest she’d ever been since becoming the slayer. And the reason why?

The reason why held her in his arms.

A second, no less profound realization struck her. This feeling had been building for years.

For years.

Since Angelus had tried to awaken Acathla and Spike had come to her seeking an alliance. There’d been an instant feeling of relief knowing he had promised to watch her back.

Oh sure, there had been bumps and set-backs since – the Gem of Amarra fiasco the most notable – but really, they’d been building on that first initial moment ever since.

With Spike, when he was on her side, she was safe.

She remembered a phrase from a book she’d read before they had moved from Los Angeles. Couldn’t remember the title or the author, or even what the story was about, but she remembered this phrase: ‘where do the strong go when they need to be weak?’

For a very long time she hadn’t understood that. It wasn’t until after she’d been chosen that she started to understand even slightly. But now she understood it perfectly.

Where do the strong go when they need to be weak?

For her, it was here, with Spike.


******************************* *******************************


Willow rolled over, expecting to find Tara and cuddle around her. Instead she got nothing but empty space. Thinking she’d only gotten up to use the bathroom, Willow settled back to sleep, completely oblivious to the fact her girlfriend couldn’t stand to be in the same bed.

Blissfully unaware that she was about to be persona-non-grata in the house at Revello Drive, Willow slipped easily back into sleep.


******************************* *******************************


Something woke Dawn from a sound sleep -- a noise that wasn’t normal. Lately, well since Spike had started sleeping here, there were lots of unusual middle-of-the-night noises. But those she’d gotten used too, even been able to identify some of them. Spike had a very distinctive walk, mostly because of the boots, but even barefoot she could figure out if it was him.

But now it wasn’t him. Wasn’t Buffy having a nightmare either. This sounded quieter, stealthier, like someone trying to sneak around unnoticed. She couldn’t really make out the footsteps either.

Concerned, Dawn got up to check it out. And got to her door in time to see Tara, with her pillow tucked up underneath her arm, head downstairs.

“Tara” Dawn’s whisper startled the other girl, causing her to turn around, her hand covering her scream.

“Gods Dawnie, you scared me. What are you doing up?”

“Dunno. Something woke me up.” With a glance at the pillow, Dawn made a decision. “C’mon Tara, my bed is way more comfy than the couch.”

Starting to shake her head in denial, Tara said “go back to bed sweetie, I’ll be fine” but Dawn’s voice interrupted her.

“C’mon, I’ll take the floor. Don’t . . “ as Tara turned to go.

Dragging the other girl into her room, Dawn checked the hallway, then closed her door.

Before she knew it, Tara was in Dawn’s bed, the teen on the floor and the lights out.


******************************* *******************************


Spike knew the moment she fell asleep. He’d been so focused on her breathing it would have been hard not to know. When he’d shifted earlier to pull the blanket up, she’d gripped his arm tight enough to bruise. And after, she hadn’t relaxed her grip at all, only wormed her way closer, which was almost impossible. Any closer and they’d be skin to skin.

Not that he’d object or mind. He was just finding this all a bit hard to believe.

Her revelation of where she’d been hadn’t come as a complete surprise. He’d suspected as much. Not likely that the All Mighty would consign the Chosen One to a nether region. Bloody stupid assumption anyway.

Buffy shifted in his arms loosening her hold on him. Taking the opportunity Spike moved Buffy under the covers. He got up, going to keep watch in his chair, when her sleepy voice whispered “come back to bed Spike.”

He was so startled by her statement that when he turned to look at her, he actually used her name. “Buffy?”

She smiled at him, a sleepy warm smile that he’d never actually seen before, and just repeated her words.

“You sure?” He just had to ask because he almost didn’t believe his ears.

“Yes Spike, come back to bed.”

His boots hit the floor within seconds and his shirt quickly followed. He left the jeans, not willing to trust himself or believe her to think it was more than comfort she was looking for. Sliding under the covers, it was the most natural thing to gather her back into his arms.

She didn’t resist.

If anything, she moved into his embrace as easily as if they’d been doing this for years, not just for the first time. Kissing the top of her head, Spike said, “go to sleep, I’ll be right here.”

He nearly scuttled away from her when she nuzzled his chest, a soft “mmmmm” vibrating against him.

His eyes closed in near bliss. She was so warm against him, her heat seeping into his bones. Nuzzling into her hair, Spike inhaled unnecessarily, just drawing in her scents.

Buffy. Vanilla. Jasmine. Chocolate. Tears. Power.

Her heart thumped against his bare chest only her thin sleep shirt between them. Her hand snaked around his waist, her fingers hooking into the belt loops, anchoring them together. Unconsciously his left hand began drawing circles on her back, smoothing the shirt down.

A smile crept up over his face as his eyes drifted closed. Oh yeah, this was just fucking great. He could stay like this forever. Would trade anything for this to be real, for this to continue, for it to be more than just this moment. He’d give his soul, if he had one, for this.

She brought her other hand up, resting it between them, her palm splayed across his chest. Her thumb moved in tandem with his hand, running up and down, just out of reach of his nipple. Her other thumb began moving against his back, dipping just under his waistband. His right arm circled around her head, which was where it had been resting since he’d pulled her close.

Pressing a light kiss on her forehead, Spike breathed out. “Go back to sleep sunshine.”

He felt her smile against his chest.

So intent on listening to her heartbeat, Spike almost missed her words “comfy. Don’t wanna sleep. Wanna stay like this.”

Oh Jesus.

Christ on a cross.

He couldn’t have heard her right. There’s just no way in fucking hell she just admitted to wanting to be in his arms. No way. Had to be grief or something else talking.

Had to be.

Involuntarily he tightened his hold on her. Instead of backing away, Buffy molded herself closer, tightening her own hold on him.

Bleeding Jesus.

He couldn’t hide his body’s reaction to her proximity any longer. And they were so tightly enmeshed in each other’s arms she couldn’t possibly mistake it for anything else. Bracing himself for her withdrawal, Spike pulled her closer with his hand at the small of her back. He couldn’t help himself, had to at least feel her this close once in his life.

She sighed, settling in, their bodies completely flush. He kissed her forehead one more time, because he couldn’t not and froze when she returned the kiss.

His chest burned where her lips had touched him.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake. He’d almost managed to convince himself he’d imagined it when she did it again.

He groaned rocking his hips against hers. Lifting her up slightly, Spike tilted her head up.

“Kitten” he breathed at her.

Her eyes focused on his face.

He smiled at her, a soft awed smile.

They moved together, meeting each other halfway. Her arms curled up around his head while both of his settled around her hips.

Mouths open, tongues met, clashed then gentled. She mewled softly, he growled in response.

Breaking apart when she needed air, he pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, whispering, “sleep now sunshine.”

Closing her eyes, her head once more tucked in the crook of his neck, Buffy sighed, once, twice and on the third deep breath, slipped into slumber.





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