Chapter 14

’it takes love over gold
and mind over matter
to do what you do that you must
when the things that you hold
can fall and be shattered
or run through your fingers like dust’
- “love over gold” by dire straits

Buffy pressed a glass of cool red wine against her forehead. Any aficionado would smack her for drinking red wine fresh from the fridge but she couldn’t be bothered by that thought now. She needed something cold, something to dull her senses a little bit.

These past few days had been a rollercoaster, both physically and emotionally.

They still didn’t have a clear edge on the Fates, and they seemed to be a bigger threat than they had originally expected. If Willow was right about that ultimate sacrifice thing… That was something on a very long list she didn’t want to think about at the moment.

Her mind was preoccupied with one single thought. Spike.

The Fates had made him remember, had lifted the spell from him. She should be happy about it but she couldn’t be.

He didn’t want to see her, he had sent her away. He was in pain. He was in pain because of her. A decade ago, that had been exactly what she wanted. She wanted to hurt him because he loved her, because he cared about her, because he was the only part of her world that actually mattered.

She didn’t want things to be like this, though. Nobody should want things to be like this. He loved her. He suffered more for her than anybody else. It had taken her long enough to realise that. And now he was in pain again. Once more, because of her. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Buffy took a sip from her wine. It was a little too dry for her taste but that didn’t really matter. The rich flavor rolled down her tongue and throat, the alcohol seeped languidly into her bloodstream.

She had never been a fan of using alcohol as a narcotic. It only worked for a few hours, and afterwards she always had a hangover. Today though… well, today was a totally different story.

The Slayer stood by the window, looking out into the night. A siren howled down on the street, urgent and persistent. At least some people were doing something useful.

If she hated one thing, it was sitting around, doing nothing. She felt useless, helpless even. No hell-ladies asses to kick, no vampires to stake, no nothing. In the past ten years, she had solely concentrated on that part of her life. Since the fiasco with the Immortal, she had abandoned the thought of ever having a normal, healthy relationship. She had gotten used to the fact that having a boyfriend, kids even, was not part of the Slayer package. Some of the other Slayers she had met had managed both but for her… yeah well, it just wasn’t meant to be.


*

Spike had no idea how long he’s been sitting in the shower, drenching himself in ice water. He had realised dimly that Buffy had been there, that she had turned the water off. Not that he could actually freeze to death but some part of him was quite sure that she had saved him. At least, she had saved part of his sanity.

He could have gone there again. He could have slipped into that part of his psyche that was a jumbled mess. Everything was easier there. Nothing made any sense. Where nothing made sense, he could just… be. Exist.

Maybe that was what had made him capable of dealing with the burden of his soul. He had withdrawn from the world, from the pain, from the guilt. Angel had been jealous that it taken him only a few weeks to come to terms with his conscience. But then, the two of them couldn’t have been more different to begin with.

Some part of him had wished he could just go back to that place, forget the current threat, forget Buffy. But trying to forget her had brought him into this mess in the first place.

It was always the same with her. Everything was jumbled up, confusing. He had never been any more confused than in those last few weeks in Sunnydale. He knew his place in her world, knew that he would never be the top player in the game. But at the same time, there had been moments between them (some of which Andrew had burned into bits and bytes on that DVD) when he wasn’t quite so sure about it.

Now he stood in front of her door, pondering whether he should knock or not.

The part of him that had agree to the deal with the fearie lord, told him not to, told him that it would start this entire mess all over again. On the other hand, there were the raging feelings inside him that had driven him up here. He loved her, he wanted her. And if he wasn’t entirely mistaken (again), at least a small portion of these feeling were mutual.

He had to know.


*

Buffy twitched so hard that she almost spilled her wine when she heard the careful knock on her door. She drew in a shaky breath before she spoke, “Come in.”

Spike had changed. Instead of his soaked jeans and t-shirt, he now wore black slacks and a black shirt that looked a little too big on his slender frame. He had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants, his head bowed slightly. He looked up at her from under hooded eyes. His voice was quiet, even hesitant. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied in that same tone. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged his unwounded shoulder. “Better now. I was… confused. It was… it is pretty intense.”

“I guess so.” A weak smile spread on her lips.

Slowly, he looked up at her, his eyes shining very blue.

It reminded Buffy of that last night in Sunnydale. A night they had spent with quiet words, relaxed talks, a few jokes even. They had tried to ignore the fact that it might be their last night, although it had been present in every second.

Buffy put her glass down on the table, her hands shaking a little. She had no idea why she was this nervous.

Slowly, they closed the gap between them. One step at a time. Baby steps, even.

Spike’s shirt was brushing against hers when they stood in front of each other. He had pulled his hands from his pockets, and his fingers curled against her arm, brushing against her skin.

If he had been human, his heart would have been beating violently. He drew in an unneeded shaky breath, then swallowed hard.

“Tell me.” His voice was quiet, soft. His gaze met hers, drawing him half a step closer to her. “Tell me again.”

A beat passed between them where she just looked up at him. When she spoke, her voice sounded warm and gentle. “I love you.”

Spike exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He swayed a little on his feet, and his eyes flickered shut. A slow smile spread on his lips as he was bathing in the sunlight of her words.

When he looked at her again, his eyes were sparkling with an inner light. “And I love you, too.”

One little word. Three tiny letters.

By itself, that word didn’t mean very much. It was a little addendum, nothing more, nothing less. But for Spike it meant more, a whole lot more. It might mean even more than Buffy would ever know.

He had dreamed about this moment for years. He had imagined what it would be like, adding that one little word. When things had gone bad between them, he had remembered those dreams, had cherished them. And now… now those dreams had come true. His wildest fantasy had become reality.

Spike had no idea how long they had been standing in the middle of the room, staring at one another. And he didn’t care. His fingers were tracing lazy pattern along her forearm, hers had found the hem of his shirt, fumbling with the fabric.

“You want a drink?”

Spike blinked, confused for a moment. Then, a grin spread on his face. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Another beat passed between them before Buffy could tear herself away from him. She zipped into the kitchen, returning with another glass of wine.

When she came back, Spike had taken up her spot by the window. His fingers were drumming a steady rhythm on the windowsill.

“Here,” she held a glass out to him, which he accepted with a nod. After she had clinked her glass against his, she said, “I talked to Willow and Giles.”

“’Bout what?” Spike took a long sip from the wine, savouring the taste.

“You.” It came out a little harsher than she had intended. “And the Fates. Willow found something about a sacrifice. An ultimate one.”

“Is there any other kind?” A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Guess not. I told her keep looking. I really don’t want to sacrifice myself again.”

“Me, either. Get’s kinda old after a while.”

Buffy snorted a short little laugh, taking another sip. When she didn’t say anything more, Spike peered down to her. She was staring out the window, her eyes a little glassy, unmoving.

“What did you say about me?” Spike asked after a while.

She glanced up at him, her face serious. “I told them what happened to you.”

“There was a time when you told Giles to sod off when it came to… well, me.” Why was he sounding so… insecure?

“He was your confidant to begin with. And in case you didn’t notice, things have changed around here.”

“Right,” he nodded, somewhat sad.

“How come you never told Giles about the spell?” Buffy turned, leaning against the windowsill.

Spike eyed her for a moment. “I might trust him when it comes to you, but I sure as hell don’t trust him when it comes to me. ‘sides, it’s pretty private, don’t you think?”

She shrugged indifferently. “I guess.”

A moment passed between them before Spike spoke again. “Since when did things get so awkward between us? I remember a time when we could talk like civilized people.”

“Yeah, but that was before we had the very uncivilized sex.”

Spike grinned when he saw her blushing a little. “That, I remember as well. Better, even.” To his satisfaction, her blush deepened.

Silence fell between them. Buffy was taking nervous little sips from her wine.

“Spike?” she asked after a while. “Has there been anyone else?” Her face was very serious, almost gravely, but there was also a touch of insecurity around her eyes.

He hesitated for a moment. Should he tell her? Should he lie? He had always been honest with her, why change now? Besides, they might not have time for lies.

“Harmony,” he said then, regretting it the instant he saw the shocked surprise on her face. “Just once. After I got corporeal again,” he injected quickly. “Needed to let off some… steam. She went all kinds of Emily Rose on me. It’s a long story.” Oh, he was flailing. Badly. Sometimes a white lie was better than the truth.

“Harmony?” was all Buffy said, staring at him in disbelieve. “At least, you could’ve picked someone with an IQ higher than toast.”

“You were snuggling with the Immortal,” he shot back matter-of-factly. “You got me beat.”

“That was a secret mission. I was trying to gain his trust to take him out.” Buffy took a defensive step away from him. “Besides, he sucks in bed,” she added quietly.

“I knew it.” Triumphant glee illuminated his face.

This time, the silence between them was awkward, laden with unsaid words.

Spike’s voice was quiet and resolved when he spoke again. “There is never going to be someone else, Buffy.” His gaze met hers, his eyes warm and gentle. “Never. Even if I had never remembered, you’re always going to be the one.”

Buffy’s face was lit by a slow smile. Her hand darted up to his face, her thumb grazing the contour of his jaw. “There is that look again,” she said more to herself than to him.

A smile tugged at his lips, and he lowered his eyes almost bashfully.

“I missed you,” Buffy added quietly. “I missed talking to you, having you around.” She lowered her hand again. “I should have told you all this a long time ago but I only figured it out when it was too late. I didn’t…”

“Buffy,” interrupted her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Would you please shut up and let me kiss you now?”

Her shoulders sagged with relieved tension. “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

He shot her a lopsided grin, twisting his fingers into her hair. Stepping closer to her, he bridged the gap between them. He could smell the remnants of her perfume, of her shampoo; something he had found annoyingly attractive a long time ago.

Leaning a little into her, he drew in a breath, savouring her scent. Her hair tickled against his skin, and a shiver crawled down his spine.

His lips grazed hers like butterfly wings. He could smell her, taste her already but he wanted to draw this out. It had been ten years but now he didn’t want to spoil the moment by rushing into it too fast.

Her lips tasted like red wine, rich and fruity. She melted into him with a soft sigh.

They had done unspeakable things to each other, most of them anything but gentle.

This kiss, though, was slow, sweet. It was everything Spike had ever wanted it to be. He might be the tough guy vampire, the slayer of Slayers but when it came to kissing her, he was still the romantic poet. A fool for love after all.

He nipped at her lips, peppering them with a series of tiny kisses. When he started teasing her lips with his tongue, she let out a little moan.

Buffy parted her lips for him, letting her meet his in a slow dance. This was no fight for dominance but a languid, lingering dance.

She had never been kissed like this. She had never let anyone kiss her like this. Especially not Spike. This was closer, more personal than anything they had ever done. It was… intimate. Not that all these sexcapades hadn’t been intimated but this wasn’t about the pure physical pleasure and release. This was (for the lack of a better word) about soul.

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body up against his. Her fingers brushed through the short stubble in the dip at the base of his skull, gently raking at his skin.

Spike let out a little whimper when her thigh came in contact with his groin. His hands cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, slowing down even more at the same time.

When she pulled away from him, her head felt a little light. Though not from the slight lack of oxygen but from the intensity of the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest, lingering over his heart for a second. Slowly, she opened her eyes to meet his.

“Spike?” Her voice sounded hoarse, she had to clear her throat before she spoke again. And yet, her words came out a little shaky. “Will you make love to me?”

Spike looked her with a touch of amused curiosity. “Always have.” He shrugged and shook his head a little as though it had been the most ridiculous request she could have made.

“I know.” She lowered her eyes, a little blush creeping on her cheeks. “But this time we’re going to make it right.” She hesitated for a moment, then looked back up at him. “This time I’m going to love you back.”

He regarded her with steady eyes but she hadn’t missed the little slip in his façade. In a swift motion, he planted a hard kiss on her lips. “You say the sweetest things.”

When he let her go, she beamed at him. “Pretty please. With cherry on top.”

He all but winked at her. “There will be cherries involved?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m not going to ask.” With that, he swept her off her feet, turning towards the bedroom. “I’ll show you.”


***