As You Are by BloodStainedSnow

Chapter #1 - Chapter One

A/N: Many to thanks to dawnofme for her wondeful beta work. I've completed the story, and the rest will be posted once the chapters are all cleaned-up. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated. “Ok,” Buffy said into the mirror and tried her best to put on a resolve face, “what doesn’t kill only makes you stronger, so let’s get this strength-getting started.” Any hint of resolve melted into uncertainty and sadness. Two hours had passed since she ended her “relationship” with Spike. When she had walked out of his crypt, Buffy had expected relief to flood her system. Instead, she had experienced emptiness, a piece of her felt high-jacked. “You were using him,” she told her reflection. She had to end things with Spike. Being with an evil, soulless creature had dragged her into blackness that threatened to engulf her. A twinge of guilt struck as she recalled the expression on his face when she had called him “William.” She had seen his heart shatter. Why did she care if she hurt him? He was soulless, after all. Her laughter broke the silence of the room. No one could look into those eyes—those too-blue, penetrating eyes—and say that a vampire couldn’t feel. He was no thing--no creature beneath her. Buffy pulled herself off the bed and away from the mirror on her nightstand. She walked to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. After rummaging, she found the black shirt and held it up to her nose, inhaling every bit of the smoke, whiskey, and earthy smell of her vampire. The scent took her back to the night, when in his impatience to have her, he had ripped her shirt and camisole to shreds. He had professed his love so many times that night, made her feel adored, wanted, desired, and safe—yes, she felt safer with a master vampire than she had since her return. How did she repay him? He won a punch to the nose and a few harsh words in the morning. Her eyes glistened with tears as she fingered a hole in the shirt, probably obtained from a patrol with her. After all he had done for her—standing up to Glory, trying to save Dawn and then watching over her after death, and the countless times he was just there for her—she still treated him like gunk in the bathroom drain. Of all the people around her, Spike was the only one to let her be, never expecting her to be happy when she wasn’t and never demanding she return his love. The tears fell down her cheeks as her eyes opened. After being abandoned numerous times, she had finally found the one who wouldn’t leave—who’d be the man she needed. The realization of why she kept him at a distance and treated him like nothing crept into her mind. If she pushed him away, he couldn’t hurt her. In doing so, she had wounded him deeply. She cringed as the images of his beaten and broken face bombarded her brain. He had only looked that terrible once before—after Glory had tortured him for information about Dawn. He hadn’t let her down then or since. Her thoughts briefly jumped to her friends. What would they think of her? A smile spread over her face. Suddenly, what they thought didn’t matter. Spike did. Buffy tossed the shirt on the bed and brushed her hair. A resolve face formed. She let out a deep breath and left to find her vampire. Spike paced in his demolished bedroom. He kicked the rubble that littered the floor and muttered under his breath. “Stupid bint—thinks she can just end things like that? Who does she think she is? I have feelings too, you know.” A low, harsh chuckle escaped his lips and echoed off the walls. His fist met the wall, causing a slight crack in the rock and a wide gash on his knuckles. “That’s right,” he said, “I don’t have feelings. I’m an evil, soulless thing that’s too far beneath Miss Holier-Than-Thou Bitch to matter.” His shoulders slumped. Spike’s anger twisted and faded until he became somber. After staring at his bleeding hand and watching the red nectar drip onto the ground, he walked to the bed and dropped onto the edge. The battered frame groaned under his weight and leaned to the side but was left unnoticed. He clenched his jaw to keep the tears from leaking. “I don’t deserve her,” he whispered to the room. She treated you horribly, a voice reasoned with him. Spike shook his head and dismissed it. Buffy deserved to be happy, to be in the light where she belonged. He tried to drag her in the dark and bring her down to his level. He should have encouraged her to be in the world and find that passion he always admired even in the days when he wanted her dead at his hands. Even though her friends were a bunch of wankers, he should have pushed Buffy to reconnect with them. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so ashamed of him. “Bloody unlikely,” he laughed. “Always gonna be ashamed of me. A tarnish on her light, I am.” Still, he craved her, desired her, and most of all, he loved her. He wished she could see that. “I’ll have to show her—prove to Buffy I can be the man she deserves.” Spike leapt off the bed and scanned the room for his duster. Spotting it on the bedside table, he scooped up his second skin and slipped it on. He walked a few steps and stopped. Patting down his coat, Spike found his pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. He struggled with his Zippo—fingers not still enough to flip the lid—but he managed to light it and take a long drag from the filter as he thought of ways to open her eyes. After grinding the butt into the ground, he hurried up the ladder but fell flat on the floor when he met a figure. “Bloody hell, Clem! Don’t sneak up on a bloke like that,” he gritted out while wiping the dust off his jeans. “Sorry, Spike,” Clem said with a slight grin. “I figured you knew I was here, vampire senses and all.” Leaping out of the hole brought Spike beside the demon. Spike snorted a laugh when he noticed Clem’s hands full of beer and cheesy chips. “I must have forgotten our date,” the vampire said. “I’m hardly dressed for such an occasion.” “Well, there are some movie marathons on tonight, and I thought we could hang. But you must have something pretty heavy on your mind to have missed me, not to mention the chips.” Clem gave the bag a pat. “These puppies are extra saturated with the orange stuff.” Walking past him, Spike grabbed a cup of blood off the TV and took a swig. He slammed it back down and said, “Yeah, I’ve got a plan going and some business to attend to.” “What business?” Clem asked, opening the bag and stuffing a handful of chips into his mouth. “Going to see a man about a girl,” Spike said. “Can you watch the crypt while I’m gone?” Mouth full, Clem mumbled, “Sure.” After swallowing a bit, he added, “This girl wouldn’t happen to be the Slayer, would it?” Spike raised his brow, and Clem said, “Right.” With a nod, Spike headed out the door. All he had to do was grab his bike, and he could be on his way to proving himself to Buffy. He halted at the spot where his ride should be. He walked back into crypt and saw that Clem had already made himself at home. “Clem, did you see my bike when you came in?” “Oh yeah,” he said. “I saw a vamp with it, and he said that the Loan Shark wanted to fix it up real nice for you.” Staring up at the ceiling, Spike muttered, “Oh balls.” Louder he said, “And you didn’t think that seemed a bit dodgy?” Clem shrugged. “Seemed alright to me.” Spike sighed. “Train station it is then.”

Chapter #2 - Chapter Two

AN: Thanks to dawnofme for being a great beta :) Buffy circled Restfield Cemetery three times before heading towards Spike’s crypt. Her courage came in waves. “Come on, Buffy. You know he loves you. Just tell him how you feel.” She tried to ignore the voice of doubt; the voice that said maybe he finally had had enough. Maybe she was too difficult, too harsh, and too undeserving, and he would leave or laugh, breaking her heart like she had done to him. “It’s your turn to go to him. He deserves that,” she said to convince herself to try. She refused to allow her past issues to bollix this chance up. Grinning at her word choice, she found the last boost she needed to move forward. When she reached the door, she hesitated but still managed to go in. Taking a deep breath, Buffy put a smile on her face and ventured onward. Flickering lights illuminated the crypt’s stone walls, while the “I Love Lucy” theme song floated on the air. “Spike?” she said and walked to the couch. Her smile faded as her eyes met Clem and not her vampire. “Hiya, Slayer,” Clem said, waving cheese-stained fingers. He held the bag out. “Chip?” Buffy shook her head and fiddled with her fingers. Keeping her voice casual, she asked, “So, where’s Spike?” “Left town. Asked me to keep a watch on his place. Can’t leave prime real estate like this abandoned for too long.” Buffy opened her mouth, but her words tangled in her throat. “He left?” she whispered. “Did he…did he say why?” Silly, Buffy, the voice told her, you already know why. Clem scratched his head, leaving an orange glop on his scalp. “I think he said he had to get something. ‘See a man about a girl’ were his exact words.” Buffy’s strength faltered, and she collapsed on the couch, glazed eyes staring at nothing. Clem gave her a hesitant pat on the back. “Come on, Slayer, don’t be like that. He didn’t leave that long ago, and I’m pretty sure he was going to the train station.” Shaking her head, Buffy’s eyes focused on the demon with her brow set in anger. “Well, why didn’t you say that before?” Holding up his hands in defense, he said, “Wasn’t really thinking, and I had no clue you were going to get so upset. Sorry.” The anger passed, and hope replaced it. Her eyes glimmered, and she bolted off the couch. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have…but…I’ve got to…” Clem nodded. “Go get him, Slayer.” After flicking the cigarette nub away, Spike pulled another out of his duster and lit it. The train had yet to arrive, and he felt like he would be older than Angelus’ whore of a sire before he could get what he needed. He paced in front of the bench, the flickering streetlamps putting his nerves on edge. “Patience, William,” he told himself and forced his body to sit. His eyes traveled to the sky, which sparkled with dotted stars. A smirk edged across his face as he recalled Dru’s misguided, but good-natured attempt to name them all. “Simpler times,” he said and laughed. Caring for Dru and all her insanity seemed the park stroll when compared to his current “relationship.” He took a final drag of his cigarette and let it drop to the gravel. He knew that simpler did not always mean better or guarantee happiness, and that just maybe he could find the latter with his change. Spike settled back into the bench and pulled a battered book out of his pocket. With one hand, he traced the book’s edges, ending with a gentle caress of the cover. Looking down, he opened the binding and began to read the sonnet’s lines. His head jerked up in alert when he saw movement to his left. His eyes widened in shock. “Buffy? What are you doing here?” Buffy turned her head sideways and smiled—her face exuding warmth and comfort. She raised her hand to his face but stopped before making contact. Instead, she brought it to the hem of her skirt, worrying the fabric there, but keeping eye contact with him. Her gestures puzzled Spike. “Are you alright, Lu—Slayer?” “I’m more than alright,” she replied, eyes never leaving his questioning stare. “I want you in my life, Spike, and you doing this will make it a reality.” His jaw clenched. How had she found out? His brain worked to remember whether he had told Clem his plan. Unease started to settle in his gut. Placing the book back in his duster, Spike stood. “Me doing what?” he asked. Giggles escaped from her form. “It’s ok, Spike. I know what you’re doing, and I want you to trust that it’s the right decision. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” “I’ll be sure to stay resolved then,” he said, unsure of what was causing him such alarm. Buffy walked up to face him, her body inches from his. “That’s my vampire,” she whispered. He closed his eyes to inhale her scent, and flung them open when no hint of vanilla and jasmine met his nostrils. He stumbled backwards as his gaze met deserted ground. Pinching his chest to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he surveyed the station to make certain no one was there. “Bloody hell,” he said. “I must be losing my mind.” He reached in his pocket for another light and scowled when his hand came up empty. “Gonna need a mess of smokes to calm down after that,” he muttered. Spike noticed the store beside the train station was still open, and he headed over to restock. Sweat beaded on Buffy’s brow as she sprinted. Her clothes clung to her body, but she paid no attention. She refused to allow this to be a rerun of the helicopter incident. This time, she really did want to make it. She had to stop him from leaving town and from leaving her by going to some remote location where postcards and phone lines couldn’t reach. Spike held her focus, and nothing could stop her—nothing except badly timed vampires. “Why now?” she asked as a gang of five vamps emerged and blocked her path. “Hello, Slayer,” said the lead vampire, who looked more suited for a frat party than the forces of evil. “Uh, hi,” she replied. “Do you think we can make this quick? I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” He chuckled. The rest followed suit like a pack of hyenas catching up on the joke. “I’d wager you’ll be taking a rain check on that one. You’ve got somewhere more important to be.” After pulling a stake from her waistband, Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the weapon against her bicep. She tilted her head sideways. “And just where would that be?” “In the ground,” he sneered and lunged at her. One of the flunkies whipped a chain out of his jacket and swung it above his head lasso-style. Using her supernatural reflexes, Buffy stabbed the first vamp, but the chain caught her arm, causing her to lose balance. As she fell, she tugged hard at the links, bringing the roper down with her. A jerk of the chain brought him within staking distance. She flipped herself upright after dusting him and prepared herself for the last three who resembled frightened schoolboys caught in the middle of a prank and awaiting their punishment. “Do you guys still want to do this? We could meet up another time if you’re so gung-ho on joining your dusty friends here,” she said and gestured to the remains already being carried off by the breeze. “Sorry, Slayer,” a bulky one said. “We’ve got strict orders. You’ve got to die tonight, and it’ll be way worse to go back in failure than to be dusted by you.” “Whose orders?” Another vampire, finding new confidence, stepped forward and grinned. “You couldn’t even fathom the power of that which we serve. Even if you succeed in killing us, you’ll never be able to stop our master. We would be doing you a fav-” His words halted when Buffy’s stake plunged into his heart. The other two stared in shock as his form faded away. Their gaze met Buffy’s. “You bad guys really need to do less talking and get to the point if the job’s that important. Your master can’t be too powerful if he’s enlisting idiots like you.” The last two rushed her, and she dispatched the first one easily. The second once almost got his hands on her, but she rolled her shoulder back, causing him to stumble forward. She flung the stake at him, embedding it in his upper back. Before he could reach to pull it out, she grabbed his head between her hands and twisted it off—a killing blow Spike would have relished. She wiped the dust off her clothes as that thought brought her back to the real mission of the night. She could worry about the new evil power later. Right now, she had to get to Spike before he became a “what if” that would haunt her forever.

Chapter #3 - Chapter Three

Thanks to dawnofme for the beta. Please see author's note at the end. Once the train station came into sight, her stomach fluttered in nervous anticipation. She smoothed her hair and scanned the area. A sudden twinge of pain that quickly morphed into panic hit her. Her steps slowed until she looked like a child lost in a forest. The fluttering in her stomach became a thud—lead bricks weighing her body and hope down. Tears pricked her eyes. A few minutes passed before the full realization of her loss finally hit. With a zombie-like gait, she shuffled to the bench and slumped down. When she saw the pile of cigarette butts, her control failed, and the sadness took over. Leaning over, she let her head fall into her hands. She had been too late. For once, she had a man who never wanted to leave, and she had discarded him like an unwanted puppy. The opening of a door startled her, and sniffling, she raised her head in alert. “Spike?” she whispered as the blond vampire exited the station store. His eyes widened, and he dropped the pack of cigarettes on the ground. The one already in his mouth hung limp as he noticed her tear-stained face. “Slayer?” he asked, not sure if he could trust his vision. A breeze sent leaves skating across the ground. One halted when it met Buffy’s boot, and her scent danced on the air, tantalizing his senses. Once he realized that he wasn’t going insane, he had to utilize all his strength to keep from reaching out to wipe the falling drops from her face. His mouth tightened on his cigarette, and he brought the Zippo to the tip. He let a casual trail of smoke escape his lips to downplay how much her presence affected him. With her intentions still unknown, he wanted to give her nothing. Buffy hoped that her tears and the simple fact that she came would be enough for him. Suddenly, the determination and courage of earlier failed her, and she switched to offensive mode. “So, you were just going to leave town without telling me?” she said with slayer resolve, her arms folding and posture stiffening. He bit back a remark exposing the show he realized she was performing. “Didn’t think you’d care, Slayer. Figured once you discarded your used goods, they didn’t matter much anymore.” Her eyes—unable to handle that hurt, accusing stare—darted from his. The afternoon returned, along with all the previous times she had called him a thing, evil, or soulless. Why did he love her when all she did was bring him pain? Spike watched her reactions and feared he had pushed too far, perhaps halting whatever declarations she may have come to make. His hand stretched out and stroked her shoulder with a lover’s touch. Although she tensed, he didn’t pull away. He flicked the cigarette to join his pile and sat down beside her. “Buffy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.” Her laughter threw him off guard, and he felt a tangle form in the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry,” she said between giggles. “It’s just ridiculous.” Clenching his jaw, he removed his hand and started to stand. A soft touch on his thigh stopped him. He stared at her and was met by sparkling eyes bordered by tears. This is it, she thought. It’s time to be brave and not stupid, Buffy. “Spike,” she began, “I wasn’t laughing at you. Well, I was, but not like that.” She paused, hating her inability to say what she meant. “It’s silly for you to be apologizing to me after all I’ve done to you and said to you. I deserve that and worse.” She put a hand to his face and traced his cheekbone. “What I don’t deserve is you.” Spike’s heart trembled in anticipation of what she might finally be saying. As her words sunk in, he shook his head and stroked her golden locks. “Nonsense, Pet. You deserve the world.” Their eyes met, and for once, she didn’t look away. She allowed his stare to penetrate her, traveling through her and crushing the walls barricading her heart. Smiling, she took his hand and entwined it with hers. Breaking the gaze, he stared at this tiny gesture of affection and knew more than a crumb was being thrown his way. “Spike…” “Yeah, Luv?” “I want to be clear. I don’t love you.” When he growled and pulled away, she held him with all her strength and hastily added, “Please, Spike, just hear me out.” He stilled his body and looked forward. His patience—never truly present—fell, but he tried to trust that she wouldn’t obliterate his heart twice in one day. Something in her voice convinced him of that. “Spike?” she whispered. “I’m listening.” She inhaled and exhaled a few times and fiddled with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t love you.” “Already established that,” he muttered. Ignoring the remark, she continued, “Right now, I don’t even like myself very much, let alone love the self that I am. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a tiny bundle of issues.” His smirk gave her more confidence. “You deserve someone who will treat you…well, who won’t treat you like nothing, and I want to be that person, but I have to get all my Buffy bits aligned and get right with me again. And I’m hoping that you can understand that because I think I could really…” She stopped, knowing this was the big moment. She looked at his face and finished, “you know, love you.” She held her breath for what seemed liked a millennia waiting for his reaction. Sparks of joy coursed through his body as he soaked in her words. He pulled her close—brushing her lips lightly with his—and whispered, “Of course, I get that, and of course, I’ll wait. Would wait forever for you, Buffy.” “Glad to hear that,” she said and pulled away to look at him. She marveled at the affection staring back at her. “So,” he grinned, “what exactly does this waiting entail?” “For one, no sex.” He waved his hands across his body. “Deal’s off then…kidding,” he added after she nudged his shoulder with hers. “Remember the alignment part?” she said. “I don’t think that’ll happen if you keep shagging me senseless all the time.” Spike chuckled. “Careful, Luv, you’re picking up my words.” “Next, I’ll be cheating at kitten poker.” “Hey, I don’t…” Buffy cocked her brow in a manner that rivaled his own, and he conceded. “Ok, maybe once or twice.” “Right.” She laughed, loving the ease and comfort between them that had replaced the tension. “Ok, no sex,” he said, bringing them back on topic. “So what will this be then?” Buffy’s fingers explored his hair, squirming their way between the gelled ridges and transforming them into soft curls. “We don’t have to call it anything right now, do we? I don’t want to be confined to a definition and feel like we have to live up to that. We can just be, right?” Dropping his head a little, he said, “And I’ll still be your little secret?” The fragile look in his eyes foiled his light tone. The poet craved recognition and still feared this would unravel and be revealed as a cruel joke. Buffy saw the desperation and wished to wipe it from his face. Trying to acknowledge his question without stomping on his manliness, she said, “Well, since you’re willing to go cold turkey for me, I thought it would only be fair to do something for you. I’m going to tell my friends that you’re in my life—that you’re the man in my life.” Spike fought the urge to kiss her right then, wanting to be sure she wasn’t lulling him into some false sense of security. His emotions had been driven all across town and back by this beautiful, stubborn, pain-in-the-ass, amazing woman, and she kept surprising him, denying those feelings any reprieve. “You mean that?” She nodded. “I do.” Unable to control his excitement any longer, Spike leapt to his feet, pulling Buffy with him. He twirled her in the air, gracing her face with light kisses when her heels touched the ground again. Happiness engulfed him. Seeing the radiance on her face told him she felt the same. To be certain, he asked, “Are you sure this is what you want, Pet?” “Seriously, if Mr. Percepto-Guy can’t read all the signs I’ve been handing out all night, then I should consider myself a failure and forego the helping of me. I don’t think I can say it any clearer. I, Buffy, want you, Spike. Huh,” she said with a laugh, “I suppose that’s way clearer.” When his face turned from jubilant to somber, she worried something she said had hit wrong. “Spike? What’s the matter? You went from Mr. Happy Vamp to bad-moody in record time.” He sighed. The earlier vision—or whatever it had been—could have been a sign. Buffy needed to know what she was missing. Despite what her words said, she deserved more. “Buffy, you should know,” Spike said, “I was going away tonight to get something. For you. Something to make me more worthy of kissing you, holding you, being near you. I was going to get-” Her finger on his lips halted his words. Pulling him closer, she replaced her finger with her mouth and kissed him as if they were teenagers experiencing each other for the first time. When they parted, Buffy held him close to her, circling her fingers around the nape of his neck and stroking the fine curls. “I don’t care what you were going to get or what you were going to do. I want you just as you are.” Spike’s heart swelled at those words, and he gained the courage to take her hand. They strolled away from the train station, both basking in their new beginning. As they became spots in the distance, a figure appeared in the shadows. A frown marred its features. “Well, that is disappointing.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: This is the end of this part of the story. Obviously, there are aspects left open, and I plan to continue unraveling in a sequel. I just wanted this part to focus on Buffy and Spike's relationship getting in sync. Thanks to all who read and reviewed. It's much appreciated.