A/N: I haven't had time to update sooner and I hope I'll be able to keep the two chapters a week update ince I've got both a part-time job and trying to do a work experience. Wish me luck. lol I love you, kind readers. ;)

Beta'd by dawnofme and Mabel Marsters






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Chapter 31


The phone call didn’t prove to be particularly useful. They informed her that Faith was still unconscious, and couldn’t even confirm she’d be able to see her friend tomorrow. And if they let her, Buffy didn’t know how she’d cope with seeing Faith lying in a hospital bed all helpless. Giles, however, was fine and would be coming home in a couple of days, so that was a relief. The doctors wanted to run a couple more tests and observe if everything was fine after the blood transfusion.


“Buffy?”


She spun around.


Spike smiled and gently took the phone out of her grip before hanging it up. “You alright? How are the others?”


“Do you really care?”


“I hate seeing you unhappy.”


“They’re… the same. Giles will be coming home tomorrow or the day after that… I’m not sure.”


Spike reached out and cupped her cheek. “Don’t worry. Faith will pull through, she’s a tough one.” He dropped his hand.


“You knew her? Back when we… back at school?”


“More like knew of her. Was kinda scared of her to be honest. She’s the type of a bird that makes a bloke skedaddle with one look. A man-eater is what she is.”


Buffy chuckled. “Yes, that’s her.”


The urge to draw her into his embrace was too strong, so he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He hated having to walk on eggshells around her, fumbling with doubt. Could he touch her without being shrugged off? Could he say he loved her without getting rejected? Could he even say anything without having to fear she’d take it the wrong way?


“Spike?”


He shook himself and met her gaze, waiting. A small line appeared between her brows. As if she wanted to say something, as if she could feel his inner turmoil, but then it was gone and she was walking past him.


“We should get you something to wear. A clean t-shirt and maybe some sweats. I know Giles should have something in his closet. I’m sure he won’t mind. He probably won’t even notice.”


As he followed her up the stairs, Spike was pretty sure the Watcher would mind a vampire wearing his clothes, but he kept his mouth shut.


They entered a room and Spike leaned against the doorjamb, content to watch her search the Watcher’s closet. Did she even realize how beautiful she was? How she took his breath away and made him tremble with every move she made? How much he needed her love?


With a smile that made the butterflies flap their wings in his stomach, she crossed the room and showed him the clothes. A simple white t-shirt and black sweats.


“Are these okay?”


“They’re great. Thank you, luv.”


She blushed. “Umm… you’re welcome. And I’ll need your jeans so I can throw them into a washing machine along with the t-shirt. Good thing you only wear black because I can have them washed at the same time and… I’ll stop boring you with the laundry talk. Sorry.”


He could listen to her talk about laundry all day. “Should I take them off now?”


“That would be great.”


He expected her to go away or at least turn around but she didn’t. “Eh… Buffy? Not that I mind, but if you stay here, you’ll probably catch an eyeful.”


“Huh?”


“I’m all naked under these.”


“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh! Right… I’ll just… turn around.”


She did and Spike popped the button open before sliding the zipper down. Her heartbeat picked up in speed. Rolling the jeans down his legs was more painful that he’d have expected and he couldn’t suppress a growl of frustration.


“A-are you okay?”


“Think I ripped off some scabs. Bloody tight jeans.”


Buffy smacked her forehead. “Shower. You should go take one. Why didn’t I think of that before?”


Maybe because she wanted to touch him? Clean his wounds herself? He wanted to say but instead told her, “Well, it’s not like I’d be able to reach my back, right?”


“Yes, that’s true.” Her head turned to the side, but she kept her gaze on the wall. “Come on, I’ll show you the bathroom.”


He bunched the filthy jeans at his groin and followed her across the hall. When they entered the small bathroom, he couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks turned pink and how her eyes darted around the room to avoid looking at him.


“The towels are right next to the shower stall as you can see, and I’ll put the clean clothes right here.” She set them down on the closed toilet lid before rushing out of the bathroom.


*******


When he stepped out of the shower and walked down the stairs, he found Buffy sitting on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her. He wanted to lie down with his head on her lap as she played with his hair.


“All done?” she asked with a smile.


“All fresh and smelling girly. Though I feel ridiculous wearing these clothes. Been a while since I wore white. Feels wrong somehow. Not to mention it’s a couple of sizes too big.” He sat down next to her.


She stared at him with those soft eyes and he felt like a schoolboy again. Hopeful. Nervous.


“I like how your hair curls. I always have.” She reached out and brushed a stray wet strand away from his forehead. Before he could lean into her touch, she drew her hand back. “It’s late. I should probably go to sleep.”


She stood up and he leaped to his feet before she could leave. Closing his fingers around her forearm, he spun her around and threaded his fingers through her hair before smashing his lips against hers. As soon as made contact, his whole body screamed at him to touch her. To possess her.


He slid one hand to her lower back and tugged her closer, his lips claiming hers in a bruising kiss. Buffy gave as good as she got and sucked at his tongue. Nothing could compare to the desperation of needing to taste her lips. So sweet. So his. So voracious as she bit his lower lip and scraped his nipples with her fingernails. He groaned and his hands wandered to her bottom, stroking and kneading until she was gasping and wriggling to press her body closer.


The oxygen was becoming an issue, so she leaned back. In a haze, he sought her mouth again, suckling her soft upper lip between his before drawing away to let her breathe.


“W-what was that?”


“A goodnight kiss.” His lips trailed down her neck to taste her skin.


“You know I can’t resist you when you do that.”


He kissed the shell of her ear and whispered, “Don’t want you to resist me. Need you. Can you feel how much I need you, Buffy?”


“Y-yes.” She panted against his neck. “Gotta go to bed.”


“Mmm… yeah, we should.”


“Me. You stay here.”


“I don’t want to. Have to touch you. Kiss you. Taste you.” His hands slipped under the waistband of her shorts and knickers to caress her backside. She was burning him.


“Uh-huh. I mean… no!” She pushed him away, her eyes unfocused. “I-it’s late. We shouldn’t… not like this. Not now.”


He forced himself not to follow her as she backed away. If she wasn’t ready, the last thing he wanted to do was push her. Even if he couldn’t stop imagining pressing her against the nearby wall and stripping those little shorts off her body.


“You can sleep anywhere you want… the couch or Faith’s room.” Then she fled, the door slamming close behind her.


He sighed and collapsed on the couch.


It was going to be a long night.


*******


Sometime in the middle of the night, Buffy stirred awake for the thousandth time and groaned into her pillow. She couldn’t stop thinking about Spike sleeping just a couple of walls away—all mussed hair and delicious lips. What was he doing to her? Why couldn’t she keep her hands off him?


It seemed pointless to even try to fall asleep. Every time her eyes closed, he was there, waiting. Eyes twinkling, a smirk playing around his lips, his voice deep and rumbling as he whispered filthy nothings into her ear. And when he wasn’t, Faith stared at her with accusing eyes, asking why Buffy hadn’t been faster. It was starting to drive her crazy.


She kicked off the covers and lifted herself from the bed, pacing. There had to be something she could do to take her mind off things. A menial task. Her eyes landed on the heap of Spike’s blood stained clothes resting on her chair. She’d dropped them there while he showered then got distracted and had forgotten to throw them into the washer.


With a shrug she gathered them and headed to the bathroom where the washing machine was. Her mother used to forget to empty the pockets, and Buffy often found the money she’d been carrying around soggy and in need of thorough drying. For a moment she wondered how her mom was doing, if she was happy that she didn’t have to worry about her daughter anymore. Did she even know the school had been closed? Would she care?


'Maybe I should call her… maybe she misses me.'


Buffy snorted and searched the pockets of Spike’s jeans for any non-washable items. Her fingers encountered something smooth and cold.


A Zippo lighter.


'Guess he really smokes after all.'


She turned the other pocket inside out and a piece of worn fabric fluttered to the floor. It seemed familiar for some reason so she bent down to pick it up.


It was her red hair tie.


***


His fingers delved into her hair and he untied the knot of the tie. A wave of affection almost overwhelmed her at the look on William’s face as he massaged her scalp and spread her hair around her shoulders.


“You always do that,” she said with a smile.


“Love your hair like this. It makes you look even more beautiful.”


“Then I’ll never ever wear it up again.”


“Perhaps I’ll hide this just to be sure.” He grinned and caressed her cheek.


***


Buffy hastily put it back into the pocket so he wouldn’t know she’d found it. The realization he’d carried it with him everywhere was mind boggling. It had to have been after he was turned and the thought of him keeping something of hers made her heart clench. He’d told her of course, that he’d missed her so much, thought she was dead, but… This was the first time she actually got it. Realized he’d been desperate to be close to her in any way he could.


For her, it was through his poems that she’d felt closer to William. Were they really all that different?


How could she possibly deny his humanity now?


Buffy dropped the clothes into the washer, turned it on and tiptoed into the living room.


Spike was sprawled on the couch, his lips slightly parted, a pillow clutched to his chest. How many times had she wished to have him back? How many times had she cursed God for taking him away, crying until her voice turned hoarse because she couldn’t touch and talk to him anymore? And now he was here, within her reach, still her William at heart.


Before she could talk herself out of it, she crossed the room and knelt down next to the couch. He mumbled something and turned on his side, facing her. Even in sleep, he sought her. Not wanting to wake him up, but unable to help herself, Buffy gently stroked his hair. Her heart felt as if it burst if she didn’t get the words out. It would be better this way, that he couldn’t hear it.


She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering as she whispered against his skin, “I love you.”


With one last glance, she stood up and went to her bed.


TBC