.11.



Holding her shopping in one hand while the other clasped tightly around her mother’s, Buffy felt loved, accepted and strangely enough, she felt as though she had been absolved. They had been in practically every shop in the mall, maxed out most of the cards they had and still, Buffy hadn’t managed to tell her mother everything she could remember about hell.

They were currently sitting side by side in the beauty parlour, having had their hair done, complete with manicure and pedicure to finish off their pampering day.

“So then what?” Joyce was asking out of the side of her mouth, trying to remain inconspicuous, even though Buffy had already made it quite clear that she didn’t care how crazy people thought she was.

“He forgave me for trying to kill him, for trying to rape him, for trying to break him down.” Buffy smiled softly, “We started looking out for each other, I’d tell him when something was coming instead of just running away, we began to work as a team.”

“How long ago was that?” Joyce asked, fidgeting in her seat, her scalp was itching as she was desperate to get out of this uncomfortable vinyl chair, get her hair rinsed and go home.

“About three years ago.” Buffy replied with a grin. She knew her mother was still baffled by the fact that time went almost three times as fast where she was than here. “Angel was pretty pissed off when he realised he’d pushed me into Spike’s arms. He was just trying to get me out of his hair so he could concentrate on Dru, and when he did notice it was too late for anything else. I was madly in love with Spike and Angel was just my past.” Jumping up out of her chair when she heard the clock chime, she motioned for the beautician to assist her. Settling themselves in chairs to have the colourant rinsed off, Buffy reached out, taking her mom’s hand in her own as she continued her story. “We had a bit of an argument about what I deserved, Angel felt I should stay single until we could get back home, so that I could leave them and be all normal girl. Spike felt I was old enough to know what I want and old enough to be his. Dru wanted me away from her Daddy and I was still damn confused.” Squeezing her fingers gently to reassure Joyce she winked, “So I had some Buffy Summers temper tantrums.” She giggled, purposely using the name Joyce had given her more violent mod swings when she was growing up. Succeeding in making her mom smile, Buffy grinned in return. “So what happened with you and Giles?”

“What? I- Um, What?” Joyce stuttered, her mind unable to comprehend the sudden change of subject and talk about it coherently.

“You and Giles? You got with the smoochies?” Buffy giggled at the deep shade of puce her mother had turned in the space of two seconds. “Come on, you’re making it so obvious!”

“I don’t think that’s really-” Joyce struggled for something to say, stopping when she saw her daughter in fits of laughter, trying desperately to contain herself while Joyce became more and more flustered.

Straightening her face into what she hoped was a stern motherly look, Joyce crumpled, grinning back at her newly blonde daughter, the almost white blonde colouring making her look like a teenager again.

The day had given Joyce a strange understanding into the complications in Buffy’s mind, but strangely enough, she had also developed an understanding of how simple things were for Buffy now.

Right and wrong were what she decided them to be, she would no longer be put in place by a turned up nose or degrading comment. She was one of the most powerful beings there was and she was comfortable with that fact.

Joyce wondered how comfortable Faith would be with that knowledge. Faith was someone who would almost settle down, then she would spring right back, messing things up for herself, her wilful ways making her uncontrollable. No, it would be better for Faith not to have that knowledge, especially now that Buffy was back. She had witnessed first hand how jealous Faith could be over people she thought ought to belong to her, there was no telling what could happen to the emotionally unstable girl if Buffy were to assert her authority over her.

Authority that Buffy apparently held due to the fact that she was the eldest and most powerful in the line. It was definitely not something Faith should be informed of at this time.

Nudging her mom, Buffy smiled, running her fingers through her poker straight bleach blonde hair, marvelling at its softness. Seeing that Joyce had paid, Buffy picked up the bags and led the way to the car park, her mom walking silently behind her.

“Buffy?” Joyce stopped, setting her bags down on the floor between her legs while she fumbled for her keys. “Would you take it back if you could?”

“Take what back?” Buffy demanded, watching her mother flush under her scrutiny.

“Everything you did to Spike?” Joyce asked softly, not wanting to offend Buffy or to drive her away, but needing to know the answer all the same.

“No.” Buffy replied firmly, walking away from Joyce and heading straight for the car. She couldn’t find the words to explain why she wouldn’t change things if it were within her power, but seeing her mother’s closed off face, she guessed it wouldn’t do any good trying to explain how things had worked out in the end.

Following Buffy to the car, Joyce kept silent as the information Buffy had imparted refused to settle into anything logical. Her daughter had obviously gone crazy down there, killing things just to feel, taking things out on Spike, forcing herself on him.

“Mom?” Buffy repeated for the third time as she climbed into the car.

“Sorry?” Joyce asked blankly looking anywhere but at her baby. Her baby needed her and all she could think about were the awful things she had described. Her baby girl had almost forced Spike to have sex with her just so that she could feel good about herself. She would be ever grateful to Spike for helping Buffy get back on her feet and understand what she could be.

“Do,” Buffy’s voice trailed off as she tried to force the words out, “Do you still love me?” She whispered tearfully.

Desperate for some kind of reaction rather than silence.

“Oh Buffy.” Joyce whispered softly, her heart breaking at the desperation on Buffy’s face. “I will always love you.” Turning her head away in anguish, she started the car, driving away in silence. Neither woman willing to break it and hurt each other any further.

Pulling up outside the mansion, Joyce smiled weakly at Buffy.

“I think you need to talk to Spike.” Joyce said firmly, gesturing to the open doorway where Spike stood, mere inches from the sun’s deadly reach.

“I love you Mommy.” Buffy whispered, slipping from the seat and gathering her multitude of bags.

“I’ll see you later?” Joyce couldn’t help but confirm their plans. She knew Buffy was going to speak to Spike, and possibly patrol for a while, but she was eager to continue their tale of what had happened in the time she had been gone.

Nodding, Buffy made her way into the mansion, not stopping to wave as her mother sped down the drive, churning gravel as she drove, smiling at Spike's figure, motionless and silent.

"Hey." She greeted, wrapping her arms around him in greeting, squealing when he hauled her up into his arms and headed straight for the stairs, taking them two at a time in his hurry to get to their room.

Pushing open the door with his boot, Spike strode across the room, sinking down onto the bed with Buffy still held tightly in his arms, his lips pressing against hers, bruising her less than delicate mouth with his ferocity, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, desperate to reclaim her as his.

She was his, and she always would be. He knew that deep inside, but these periods of absence were beginning to strain him, having never been separated since their claiming.

Breaking away from his kiss, Buffy wriggled out from under him, straddling his hips and hungrily diving back down for more.

Being pinned to the bed by his horny mate was something Spike had been dreaming abput all day, but now she was here, he was desperate to take control, to show her just how much he had missed her being cooped up in the mansion while the sun was in the sky. Growling, he tightened his grip on Buffy’s arms, rolling them over so that she lay on her back and he was able to dominate their play.

Letting Spike take charge, Buffy lay back, so engrossed in their foreplay that all thoughts of her evening plans flew out the window. This was much more satisfying than patrolling any day.

Within minutes they were both divested of their clothes and letting her mate worship her body with his nimble fingers and talented mouth, Buffy was in ecstasy. There was nothing more sensual for either of them than the erotic display of claiming each other over and over again. Every single touch seemed to inflame Buffy’s skin, making her writhe beneath his every touch, begging and pleading for more.

Once Spike was satisfied that she had begged enough for the release he was denying her, he slid up her body slipping effortlessly inside of her hot, tight little body and began rocking them gently together.

Tightening her grip around Spike, Buffy began to squeeze her inner muscles like a vice around his cock, panting and squeezing in time to his rhythmic thrusts, bringing him to the edge faster than Spike would like to admit and with one quick squeeze, Buffy tumbled taking her mate with her, their feelings open to one another while the pleasure coursed through their beings, shaking them to the very soul that made them one.

Rolling off of Buffy, Spike pulled her close for a cuddle, wanting to share the link for just a while longer before it would undoubtedly fade into a background without their constant connection.

The link between them was always there, but needed constant connection to be as powerful as it was now. The further away from each other they got, the weaker the bond became until it was merely a feeling that someone was there.

It had been Buffy’s guide to her partner while they had been in Hell, she had used it as a homing beacon, telling her instinctively where Spike was and she had quickly grown used to it when fighting alongside him. Wanting to test how different it was now that she was back home she sat up, abruptly pulling away from Spike and reaching for her clothes.

“Wanna patrol?” She asked, bouncing back onto his lap, using her wide, puppy dog eyes until he agreed to accompany her to the cemetery. Throwing him his jeans from their hiding place half under the bed, Buffy sprang around the room like a jack in the box, humming to herself as she dressed in her new clothes and fluffed her new hairdo.

Turning to pout at Spike, Buffy struck a pose, her shiny nails reflecting in the poor lighting of the room as she dragged them slowly through her hair.

“It’s nice.” Spike chuckled without looking up, making her pout even more when he ushered her out of the room, calling out to Angel and Dru as they left.