Part Six

The talk show gave way to soap operas and they both watched with glazed over eyes. At one point Buffy realized what they were watching, frowned, and considered changing it. A glance down at Spike told her that he didn’t care and since she didn’t really feel like reaching for the remote, the soaps stayed on.

Spike was teetering on the edge of bliss. Sure his ribs still ached and he could feel the bones in his arm mending, but she was touching him. Intentionally, with affection, she was touching him. One of her hands rested on his chest while the fingers on her other hand had continued to gently fiddle with his hair. He knew that men couldn’t actually die from blue balls, but he wondered if vampires could. He’d dust happy. She wanted him. She’d said it. She’d said that she wanted him. It wasn’t something he was likely to forget, ever. But even without the memory of her words he would have known. It was there, obvious even. Her scent, her arousal filled him with every unneeded breath. She was enjoying having him close. She liked him. She’d said that, too. He laughed.

Buffy frowned slightly at the chuckling vampire on her lap. As far as she had seen, nothing particularly funny had happened on the television. “What?”

“You like me.” He smirked.

She smiled. That was funny. “Don’t get me wrong. I still think that you’re a pain in the ass. I mean, you’re totally rude and my lawn looks like an ashtray and…and you’re a total slob.” She shook her head. “It’s like you grew up with a maid.”

“I did.”

The wrinkle appeared between her eyes. “You…?”

He shrugged and then winced. “So, I’m a total prick, but…”

“But yeah…I like having you around.” She shook her head again. It troubled her that she really knew so little about Spike and the man that he once was. She wondered if he would become more like that man now that he had his soul back. “Tell me…tell me something that I don’t know.”

“Queen Victoria died in 1901, Indian whisky is actually rum and Istanbul was previously called Constantinople. There’s actually a catchy song about that last bit.”

Buffy laughed but wasn’t deterred. “I meant about you.”

Spike tensed noticeably. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, pet.” He replied quietly.

“I’m not trying you set you up, Spike. I know that you’ve…I know that you are a vampire.” She sighed. “Who were you before?”

He frowned. “Before I was turned?”

“You told me before that you were a bad man, but…” She trailed off, unsure of how she could explain that she just didn’t believe him. She wondered why exactly she didn’t. She supposed it had something to do with the manners that he generally tried to hide, but had popped out around her mother or the fact that when she’d hurt his feelings he’d looked like those feelings had been trampled plenty of times before. Maybe, she acknowledged, she just didn’t want to consider the possibility that Spike’s good qualities actually came from the demon.

“I lied. Wasn’t really bad.”

She smiled. But he continued before she could say anything.

“I wasn’t really good either. Weak. Self-Involved. No one.” No one Buffy could have loved, he thought. He didn’t really think someone like Buffy would have ever even noticed the man he was. Maybe, he amended, if she would have had to come and rescue his sorry ass. Then, he was sure that he would have been memorably lame.

“I’m sure you weren’t so bad.”

“I was a grown man living at home with his mother because I hadn’t found a wife. I wore reading glasses even when I wasn’t reading and I had…stupid hair.”

Buffy bit her lip to hold back her mirth. “How,” she said, giggling, “how was it stupid?” She resisted, barely, the temptation to make a crack about his current preferred hairstyle.

He glared for a moment before his expression turned serious. He couldn’t help but worry that Buffy asking about his past would only lead to badness. “Why do you… There’s a lot I’m not proud of, Buffy. I can’t change that.”

“Spike, I told you. I’m not playing a game. I’m not trying to get you to tell me all the things you did so that I can tell you they were wrong. I know plenty of that stuff. I know…plenty. And I know that you are different now.”

“Still a vampire.”

“I know that.” She frowned, wondering why he’d said that. “I don’t…” Mind was the word that popped into her head, but she wasn’t sure it was the right one. “I know that. It doesn’t change how I feel.”

He wanted to push her to explain those feelings, but instead he asked, “Because of the soul?”

She nodded.

He looked away. “I loved you before I got it back.”

“I know.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his temple. “Do you wish you hadn’t gotten it back?”

He looked up at her then, startled.

“I’d be easier, right?” Her tone was oddly neutral. “If you didn’t have to deal with all the feelings and…”

“Thought you weren’t testing me.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t regret it. I mean…” He snorted and paused for a moment. “I probably should have prepared better for the aftermath, getting back here was hell.” He gave her a small smirk. “I’ve never been one to stop and think things through first. I wanted my soul. I got it.”

“For me.”

His eyes widened at her admission. He swallowed and nodded once.

Her heart raced. It was almost too much. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known that he’d gotten the soul for her. Of course she had, he’d told her himself. But he’d been crazy at the time. Her reaction hadn’t been important. Now it was. He was watching her, waiting with his head tilted and a touch of fear in his eyes. What could she possibly say? What words could ever express the overwhelming totality of his act? Thank you just seemed so cold. She kissed him again instead and cursed herself for her failing.

Spike pulled away after only a few seconds. “Does it make you happy? Is it what you wanted?”

“No! I mean yes, of course it makes me happy.” She sighed. “It’s incredible, Spike. I just meant…I could never have asked you…anyone… to do something that…” She blinked but didn’t turn away to hide the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

He sat up quicker than he should have been able to and pushed in close to her. “I wanted to be a better man, for you. I still want--Bloody hell, Buffy I still lo—”

“Don’t!” She threw her hands up and shook her head. “Oh God, Spike, don’t say it. Please.” She watched in horror as the hurt on his face quickly changed to anger.

He turned away from her. “It’s nothing you don’t already know.”

“I know, but—”

“But what, it’s okay for you to use my feelings but not to hear about them?”

“No, William.” She said his other name with a slow deliberateness, hoping its use would show how very much she wanted to be gentle “I just-”

He turned to her then, eyes blazing. “You saying goodbye again? Pull out a bloke’s given name when you plan on breaking his heart?”

Her own anger reared its head. “Stop it! Just…stop.” She took a series of shallow breaths. “I can’t say it back.” She wished she could. In that moment she wished that she could just say the words that he wanted to hear. She just couldn’t let him say them and not hear them back. It was cruel and she was sure it would break both of them.

He scoffed. “Didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say it…yet.” She couldn’t say them until she was sure that she meant them, until she was sure that she could do something about them. That was the bigger question, really. Could she give them a real chance? They’d both been through too much already for anything less than a full commitment.

Spike saw his life rush before his eyes. Surely the girl was trying to kill him. His voice was weary when he asked, “What does that mean, Buffy?”

She scooted across the couch and reached up slowly to cup his face in her hands. “I have feelings for you. I told you that, but…” But what she asked herself in frustration, you’re not sure you care enough to face your friends or you’re still not sure that you’re even capable of a real relationship?

“You can’t love me.” He whispered her words back to her as though they were a sacred chant. There wasn’t any question in his tone. He really didn’t think she ever could.

“Give me a chance to decide for myself.”

Spike was going to say something. He hadn’t decided what exactly, but he knew that there had to be something to say. She might love him. She had said that she thought she might love him. He had to have a response.

She didn’t wait for one. She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth and whispered shakily. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, Spi…William, but I need some time. Could we try a fresh start, like a taking things slow and figuring things out kind of start?” She rubbed her thumb gently across his cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Now that she’d finally started talking, the words came easier. “Can you give me some time?”

He stared at her, open-mouthed, for several beats before nodding. “I’d give you anything, Buffy. Die for you.” He didn’t tell her that he loved her, though he still didn’t really understand why she didn’t want him to say the words.

“Don’t.” She rested her forehead to his. “I want a chance to get to know you.”