Chapter 14
Shadows were filling the corners of the bedroom by the time Buffy roused from sleep. She stretched, pointing her toes and throwing her arms out wide. Her habits were changing. Never before in her life had she been able to take uninterrupted naps in the afternoon. It felt like heaven to her. Except that Spike wasn’t beside her. The muffled sounds of the television playing told her he was most likely in the living room. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was past dinnertime, but there were no enticing smells wafting in from the kitchen.
Buffy threw back the covers, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, foregoing any underwear. After all, she didn’t need it here. With her hair pulled into a careless bun, she made her way to join Spike. He didn’t say a word when she entered the living room. He only gave her a glance, but there was definitely disapproval in it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Buffy asked, looking around as if she didn’t know, but she did know what was wrong. Well, she suspected. Their relationship had taken on a bizarre parental / child quality to it. The rules weren’t laid out in an easy to follow map that would keep her on Spike’s good side. She wasn’t afraid of him, not physically anyway, but emotionally he could ruin her. Their relationship was about trust, and as unusual as it was, she knew she could trust Spike. It was just time to test the boundaries, see what she could and couldn’t do within the parameters of this situation.
“Buffy,” Spike said, with a voice that would make any child or one of his victims tremble. He stood to join her, and then nodded toward the kitchen. “You told me you did the dishes.”
“I did,” Buffy replied, fighting back an intense urge to giggle at the absurdity of Spike scolding her over dishes. If she did though, this relationship would be over and she would be back to freefalling without a safety net. It was a sobering thought, and she hung her head. “Didn’t I do it right?”
“There was still grease on them.”
“I’m hungry,” she argued. “Can I just wash them again with the dinner dishes?”
“No, now,” Spike said, putting his hands on his hips. She didn’t move, instead she stared at the floor, watching her foot move back and forth. “Buffy, don’t make me force you.”
Buffy peeked out from under her lashes at him. “Okay,” she gave in. She really didn’t want to argue with him, and the memory of the first morning when he’d thrown her to the floor returned. That memory was enough of a deterrent. She moved past him, and into the kitchen. He sighed, and she wondered if it was in relief that he wouldn’t have to follow through. This time she scrubbed them until they sparkled. A weird sense of pride flooded her when she finished. Before, it had been another chore that had to be done in between slaying. This time it was different. It was almost as if it was a link in the chain of making a home with Spike.
“You done?” Spike asked, from the entrance, making her jump.
“Yes,” Buffy said, smiling at him.
“That’s my girl,” Spike said, holding his arms out to her. She ran to him, letting him cuddle and pet her. “Thank you.”
She didn’t analyze the euphoric feelings of contentment she felt in his arms. It only made her want to please him again so he would continue to hold her. Burying her face against his chest, she snuggled even closer to him. He just held her tighter.
“Um, can we eat now?” Buffy asked, with a giggle. “I’m starving.”
“Anything you want,” Spike answered, kissing the top of her head before he stepped back. “Would you like to go out? There’s a little restaurant not too far from here that I think you might like.”
“Oh…what about Faith and Robin?”
“You’re protected, remember,” Spike said. “And they can’t make you leave with them.”
Buffy nodded. She looked down at the rumpled clothes she was wearing and laughed. “I don’t think this will do. Give me just a minute and I’ll go and get changed.” She kissed his cheek, and then hurried from the room.
After quickly dressing in a long, white peasant type skirt, and pink tank top, Buffy slipped into sandals before rejoining Spike. He whistled appreciatively at her.
“You look beautiful, pet,” Spike commented. He tilted his head, as he looked her over again. “And you look happy.”
“That’s because you make me happy,” Buffy replied with a smile. She just wasn’t sure if that was the right word to describe her state of mind. She was ecstatic to be with Spike again, and thankful that she wasn’t carrying a load of responsibilities. However, there was also a niggling in the pit of her stomach telling her that something just wasn’t right. She shook her head in denial. No, she would be happy.
La Vuelta wasn’t too far away from the house, but it was a nightmare for driving, making Spike mutter way too many, ‘bloody hell’s’, before he got the car into a parking spot. By that time, Buffy was giggling at him. It was just too normal and it was the only way she could deal with that knowledge. He was just a man, and she liked it.
“Do you think it’s funny?” Spike asked, lifting one brow as he coolly assessed her.
“Well, kind of,” Buffy replied, sliding across the seat. She nuzzled against Spike’s face. “You’re so darn cute with all your cussing. It kind of turns me on.”
He tickled her, letting his fingers dash along her rib cage in torturous movements that sent her into a flurry of struggling to get away. He was laughing as he pinned her down on the seat.
“Let go,” Buffy begged, pushing at his chest. “Please….I’ll never laugh at your manliness again,” she couldn’t help it. She broke out in peals of laughter as she used her leg to push him away. He was grinning above her, letting her have her freedom. “Thank you,” she tried to say with a prim and proper air, but she was still giggling too much for it to have the effect she wanted.
“Come on, lamb,” Spike said, opening the door. He crawled out, and then reached a hand in to help her out of the car. She took it, enjoying the feel of the strength of his hand in hers. He pulled her close to him, slamming the car door shut, and then led her through the crowds. There were too many people milling the streets, and Buffy was grateful for Spike’s arm around her. She kept looking around, searching each face for one that was familiar. Maybe they’d sent someone else after her. Maybe they were all there, like they were in her mind, badgering her. It made her want to hide. “It’s okay, Buffy. We’re turning in here.”
Spike requested one of the nooks where they could be alone and it would be less likely for anyone to see them. Buffy relaxed as she slid into the seat against the wall. This way she could see everyone in the restaurant, and easily spot anyone who came too close. The waiter came by to give them menus, and Spike ordered them a pitcher of margaritas. The menu was in Spanish and although she recognized many of the dishes, Buffy wrinkled her nose.
“So, um, there isn’t any dog on the menu is there?” Buffy whispered to Spike in a conspiratorial whisper. “There doesn’t seem to be very many strays roaming the streets.”
“Wrong neighborhood, Buffy,” Spike retorted. “Too many people around for the dogs to survive. And not like that,” he added, with a roll of his eyes. “Geesh, woman, you’re from LA, you should know Mexican food.”
“I do,” Buffy sniffed. “Before we moved to Sunnydale, my friends and I would come down to Mexico for the weekend. I guess I’ve kind of forgotten over the years. I was only fifteen.”
“This was before you were called?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Things were different back then…I was different.”
“I don’t think you were very innocent though,” Spike commented, before thanking the waiter for their drinks. He quickly placed orders for combination plates for them both, along with a plate of nachitos for them to start with. He looked at Buffy when he ordered, waiting for her approval on each item. She smiled, thankful that he was taking charge, but considerate enough to ask her opinion. The waiter moved away, and Spike poured them each a glass of the margaritas. “So, were you innocent?” He asked as he pushed a glass in front of her.
“Angel was my first,” Buffy said, staring at a spot across the room from them. “You know that Spike. Why bring it up again?”
He wrapped his hand around hers again. “No, I don’t mean in bed, Buffy. And I’d say that before me, you were still pretty naïve,” He chuckled. “I meant…worldly.”
They’d touched on these subjects before, but never in any depth or with any real honesty. It had always been a game, trying to stay in control of the relationship, taking what they needed. At least, until that last night. It was the most intimate they ever were, whispering desperate words of love because they knew they were going to die. Then he did, letting her go with his denial. But he came back without telling her. She studied him for a second, but knew that if they were going to have a real relationship, a chance at a lifetime, at least hers, then they needed to quit hiding.
“I wouldn’t say worldly. I wanted to be, but I wouldn’t say I was. I was a crowd follower, one of your typical valley girls…”
“Man, those girls were yummy,” Spike said, with a chuckle. “Always so indignant that they were being accosted by a vampire. Like we shouldn’t exist in the world because they said so.”
Buffy flashed him her ‘you’re pushing it’ look and he only squeezed her hand before leaning back.
“Sorry, pet, but they were.”
“Fine, I’m trying to be honest and you’re being all jokey. Forget it, I was…”
“Doing fine,” Spike said. “I shouldn’t have been joking,” He sighed. “It was the truth though.”
Needing a chance to regroup, she took a sip of her drink while watching Spike from under her lashes. He was a vampire. It was as much of a part of him as being that girl once was to her. She needed to accept it. They wouldn’t be who they were now, if they hadn’t been them.
“It’s okay,” Buffy said, with a small nod and smile in his direction. “You were an evil vampire for a long time. So, you should be able to talk about it.” She wagged her finger at him. “Just as long as you don’t start missing it, and want to start with the whole bitey thing again.”
Spike laughed. It warmed her insides, and gave her heart a small lurch. She ducked her head in a shyness that confused her. There wasn’t anything this man hadn’t seen of her, so why should she feel uncomfortable around him?
“No, pet, no wanting to return to the old days,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “I’ve got something better now, and don’t want to mess it up.” He tugged on a lock of her hair dangling across the tabletop. “You make me happy.”
“How can I? I don’t even make myself happy.” She hid behind her drink again. There wasn’t anywhere else she could go, and besides it was her that was pushing for the honesty. She looked over at Spike, who seemed comfortable with this conversation. When had he become so mature? No longer was he the group clown, the desperate lovesick vampire, or even her hero. He seemed to have found a balance since Los Angeles. She admired it. Maybe it was what was going to get her through this phase of her life. She was amazed to feel something that she recognized as hope. It wasn’t something she was familiar with, but it felt nice to have it again.
“You will.” He looked around the restaurant. “It’s not like you’ve had a lot of chances to sit back and decide what would make Buffy happy, much less the opportunity to pursue it.”
“Who are you?”
Spike laughed. “You know.”
“Yeah, I do,” Buffy whispered, cupping his face. “You’re my Spike.”
Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he tugged her closer to him. Her words had pleased him. It was all he’d wanted before. To belong to her, and to have her admit it. He’d been right. She’d been too sanctimonious, and too in love with the pain to recognize what made her happy. Those things didn’t matter anymore. They hadn’t made any difference in the end. He was right. She had the opportunity to figure it out now.
Spike pressed his lips to her. She could taste the tangy lime of the margaritas on him. It made her hungry for more, and she opened her mouth to him. His tongue swept in, dominating, taking what already belonged to him. She threaded her fingers through his hair to keep him close. If she wasn’t starving for food, she would probably suggest they go home to make love again. Sensing someone standing next to the table, she pulled back expecting to see the waiter there.
It wasn’t.
to be continued…
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