Spike woke up a couple of hours later, his eyes blinking open in the dim stillness of the room, broken only by the white, grainy light emanating from the snowy television screen, and the soft white noise of the static it produced. He turned his head slightly toward it to read the glowing green digital clock on the DVD player.

Clearly, the movie had long since been over.

*Must have been a bloody sight more tired than I thought,* he realized. *Didn’t even make it to the bit about the fire swamp and the ROUS’s!*

He moved slowly to sit up, but found his progress gently impeded by a light tugging on his hair when he tried to move upward, and a comfortable weight across his chest and shoulders. He turned his head slightly to the other side, and could clearly make out the Slayer’s sleeping form, one soft arm resting across his chest, and her other hand not moving, but still tangled in his hair.

It filled his heart with an odd warmth to think of her sitting there with him, long after he had fallen asleep, her hand gently running through his hair in a gesture of tenderness and affection that had been pure and guileless, with absolutely no ulterior motives. It might have forever been unknown to anyone but her, until she had fallen asleep as well, leaving him to awaken and find her in this touching pose.

Dawn had fallen asleep before he had, but apparently she had awakened at some point, and gone upstairs to her own bedroom, as she was no longer in the living room. He glanced toward the stairs, wondering what time she had gone to sleep. It was two-thirty in the morning; he hoped it had been a good long while, or she was going to be exhausted for school in the morning…

*And just when did you turn into such a bloody buggering ponce?* he demanded of himself when he realized the line his thoughts were taking – but without much venom.

He liked to think that he was becoming a part of this fractured little famly.

He just lay there for a few moments longer, raising a hand to gently wrap around Buffy’s slender but powerful arm, nestling his body in closer to the warmth of her unconscious embrace. He could not remember the last time he had felt so content – so at peace.

Buffy had genuinely been making quite the effort lately to be sure that Spike and everyone else around them knew just how much she truly did love him. It was almost awe-inspiring, the fierce protectiveness that had come out in her on the first – and last – time that she had found the need to defend him to her friends, namely Xander.

At first, Spike had naturally had his doubts, though he had wanted desperately to believe that it was all real; he couldn’t really help it, considering all Buffy had put him through in the past – but watching her take up for him against her best friend had made it nearly undeniable, and by now, all his fears had all faded away like mist in the morning sun.

There was no denying the reality of Buffy’s love for him at this point – not when she showed it so freely – even in unconscious moments like this, cradling him close to her in her sleep.

Spike tried again to slip quietly out from under her gently possessive arm, which even in unconsciousness did not seem willing to release him. Clearly, she had spent more than enough time without him over the course of the past few months, and her subconscious did not seem inclined to let him go anytime soon. But that was all right; Spike did not mind.

He really didn’t *want* to be let go.

But then – he *had* been lying in the same position on the couch for presumably a couple of hours now, and he was starting to feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable. He sighed quietly in resignation; he had not wanted to disturb Buffy, but it appeared to be unavoidable at the moment, if he intended to go home at some point before dawn.

Another thing he didn’t particularly want to do, come to think of it.

“Buffy,” he said softly, his voice low and husky with sleep and affection as he gently pushed her arm across his chest in an attempt to rouse her. “Buffy, love…”

The Slayer released a girlish little whimper of sleepy displeasure, her arm shifting to encircle him once more, tightening slightly as if afraid of his leaving her -- before she began to wake up a bit. Her eyes slowly opened as she raised her head, and Spike sat up slowly, swinging his legs off onto the floor and scooting in closer to her with a warm, affectionate smile of greeting.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he said softly, his eyes shining with a soft light that she would not have imagined there a couple of months ago.

She stretched slowly, her arms over her head for a moment, before returning one of them to rest around him, the other lying idly across her own lap. “How long have I been out?” she murmured, returning his smile through sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bit less than I’ve been, I’d wager,” Spike guessed, raising a hand to gently push a stray lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. “Though I can’t rightly tell you, pet. Just woke up m’self,” he admitted.

Buffy glanced with the blankness of just waking up around the room, before returning her gaze to Spike’s oddly intent face, gazing into her eyes when she turned.

“Dawn?” she asked in a soft query.

A teasing, mildly suggestive grin on his face, Spike replied, “Not for hours.”

It took Buffy a moment to process his little joke, her mind still addled a bit with sleep – and a lot with the breathtaking expression on Spike’s face at the moment. When she did realize what he was saying, her eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and she laughed softly, instinctively edging nearer to him and squeezing her arm around his shoulders slightly.

She felt warmed and encouraged when he did not pull away from her, but rather nestled in closer to her, still smiling that peculiar smile into her eyes.

“I’ve told you recently that I love you, right?” Buffy whispered, returning his smile, though she found herself feeling a bit mesmerized by the intensity of his startlingly blue eyes focused on hers. At the same time, she relished the pleasure of feeling so comfortable and safe and at ease with the man she loved – whose love she had come so near to destroying.

Spike winked at her as he replied teasingly, “Only a couple of times this past evening, pet. Of course, Niblet was with us most the night, so you might have been trying not to make her nauseous – but still…I think you’re slippin’ a bit.”

“Well, then,” Buffy murmured, leaning slightly nearer to him, her lips aching to kiss him, but restraining herself with every ounce of willpower she possessed, “let me try to remedy that.” Her free hand rose to rest on his cheek as she whispered intently, “I love you, Spike.”

There was a moment’s silence, and those gorgeous eyes grew a bit more serious, as Buffy waited quietly for his response.

Since that evening in the cemetery, when they had agreed to try again, but to take it slow, neither one of them had really made a secret of their feelings for each other, though they had agreed to refrain from actually acting on those feelings – much. A few brief, cut off before they became anything more than innocent – but that was really about it.

Spike had been the one to initiate all of those kisses – and Buffy had been the one to end them – in her opinion, just in time.

She wanted him desperately by this point, and she knew by the expression on his face in those moments that he *knew* she did, and it confused him a bit – but she just did not want things to move along too quickly this time around. She was waiting to be sure that she had regained his trust completely, before she allowed them to take that final step. The fact that he was willing to take things further, physically and emotionally desired her, did *not* mean that he was ready.

But – it was possible that he *was* ready…wasn’t it?

After tonight – Buffy was beginning to allow herself to hope that he was.

“You know I love you, Buffy,” he replied finally to her softly spoken words, his eyes shining with his affection for her. “So much.”

She felt the powerful impulse to kiss him, her eyes trying to hold his gaze, but failing, drifting between the fathomless blue depths of his eyes and the lush tempting fullness of his lips beneath them, her upper body shifting slightly sideways and closer to him, without her even realizing that she had moved.

Spike’s eyes began to follow hers, a look of longing building in them, and she heard him draw in a soft, unnecessary breath – betraying his rising arousal, which was certainly no greater than the intense desire she was feeling for him, but trying to repress…for his own good.

But perhaps – perhaps it was not necessary to hold back anymore.

As if echoing her thoughts, supporting her rising hope that maybe – maybe the time had finally come to renew their love, Spike placed his hand at her waist, turning her slightly to face him more fully, his thumb rubbing a slow circle on her soft skin just at the base of her t-shirt, as he looked downward a bit self-consciously, his eyes focused on the rhythmic motion of his own hand.

His lips parted to speak – then hesitated for a moment.

She waited breathlessly to hear what he would say, her own lips hovering inches from his – only waiting for his invitation.

“Buffy,” he whispered, longing in his voice. “Buffy, I want you so much…I don’t know if I – if I can wait…any more…and really, pet – we don’t have to. I do trust you Buffy – you know I do.”

Buffy felt a rush of elation flood her heart, mingled with her trepidation and uncertainty, as she whispered in reply, “You’re sure? You – you know for a fact that you’re ready for this?”

A soft, mildly sarcastic laugh left the vampire’s lips as he shook his head slightly before meeting her eyes again to reply, “Of course I’m not sure, Buffy. Can’t bloody well be really sure – without taking a chance on it to find out, now can we?”

His expression softened slightly as he added, “That’s something a real smart bird told me once – kinda stuck with me.”

Buffy returned his smile, affectionately, remembering when she had recently told him just that. Strangely, though she had longed and waited for this moment, she began to feel the sensation of nervous butterflies in her stomach as she contemplated the thought of how near they were to what she had been waiting for.

Suddenly, she wondered – was *she* ready?

“Besides,” Spike went on, a note of dry, gently mocking humor to his voice, “it’s not *me* being sure we’ve been waiting on!”

“Yes,” Buffy argued earnestly, looking him in the eye and willing him to understand, “it *is*. I just – just wanna know that *you’re* ready – that’s why I’ve been waiting. I wanna know that you’re absolutely comfortable with me – sure of – of *us*. That you *know* how very real and important this is to me, how committed I am to you. That in that split second when you wake up in the morning, before you open you’re eyes, you’re not going to wonder if I’ll be there when you *do* open them.”

“I am – I do – I *won’t*,” he assured her without hesitation, his low voice warm and reassuring. “Buffy – it’s taken a bloody long time to be able to say this, but – but I think I *am* ready for this. I do trust you, Buffy. I do.”

Buffy’s eyes welled with tears at the sound of the words she had longed to hear for months now, and she lowered her head slightly to hide them.

But Spike would have none of it.

Gently, he tipped her chin back upward with his fingers, until she met his eyes again, reluctantly, her own eyes glittering with unshed tears. A sympathetic smile came over his lips as his hand rose to gently cup her cheek.

“We’re back to the beginning, love – the original question,” he informed her softly, holding her gaze. “Not about me, or my trust in you. It’s about whether or not *you* trust you, Buffy.”

She frowned slightly, puzzled by his words.

“You’ve changed so much these past months, pet…and I know it hasn’t been easy. But you’ve done it. You’ve proven yourself and that you mean what you say – and though I once thought I’d never soddin’ say this again – I *do* trust you. With my life, Buffy. How else is a master vampire gonna lay his head in the lap of a bleedin’ Slayer and take a bloody *nap*, love?”

Buffy could not help but laugh through her tears at the incredulous, slightly disbelieving note of amusement in his voice – and she realized that he was right. After this evening, and the trust he had shown in her, to doubt that trust was ridiculous.

“No,” Spike shook his head slowly as he concluded his point, “the question’s not whether or not I trust you. At this point, love – I think *you’re* more afraid you might hurt me than I am.”

She looked down, caught of guard by the nevertheless *not* surprising perception that the vampire always seemed to show when it came to matters of her heart.

Firmly, Spike pushed her chin back up to face him again, gazing without reserve or the slightest sign of uncertainty, into her red-rimmed, glimmering eyes, staring up at him with a look of mingled hope, and enough uncertainty for the both of them.

“But you *won’t*, Buffy,” he assured her gently, with a surety that made her feel instantly more secure in what they were about to do. “You won’t hurt me. Leastwise not any more than I’ll hurt you, or any other couple hurts each other in the normal course of making mistakes and learning each other and all. Can’t expect either of us to be perfect. But I *do* know that you’re gonna do your best to love me, pet – and I’m gonna do the same.”

The poignant sincerity of his final words smote her heart with a sensation of warmth and safety and the knowledge that they were actually going to be okay. The way she saw it, they were right back at square one, just as he had said – with a whole future yet to build between them.

True, they could have been a lot further along by now, if not for the dreadful mistakes that she had made. But considering those mistakes, she was grateful and content to be where they were right now.

Poised on the edge of a brand new start.