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Softer World by Constance
 
Chapter One
 
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Chapter One

Spike balanced himself on the awning outside the Slayer's window and listened to her dream. The tiny whimpers told him it was a bad one but there were no words, nothing to indicate which of the troubles in her life was giving her nightmares at the moment. He hesitated on the window ledge, unwilling to enter uninvited. She may have been spirited in her defence of him the day before but Spike was afraid of her reaction if she woke to find him in her room.

But a second anguished sob broke his resolve and a moment later he was kneeling beside the bed, gently shaking Buffy's shoulder.

"Spike, no!" she screamed, jerking bolt upright.

Ah, that dream. Spike blanched and was already backing away, hands up in denial, as she opened her eyes.

Buffy had seemed perfectly relaxed in his company during the day, no longer skittish as he'd put it. Had requested his presence, more than once, and he'd allowed himself to hope that she was starting to forget how he'd hurt her, now he'd have to chalk that down to Buffy's amazing fortitude and dedication to the mission.

That was his girl alright, gold medal in bottling things up. Too focused on her duty to bother with hysterics, and too compassionate to hate him like she must want to. These last few weeks he thought he'd been helping, she'd asked him to stay; maybe she just knew how much he needed to feel needed.

And it left Spike in a bit of a dilemma. To flee now would be cowardly and downright strange, but he was well aware he was the last person she would want to see right now.

Buffy swam into consciousness to find she was already sitting up. She blinked owlishly at Spike who looked like small child caught at a bad thing, backing towards the bedroom window in nervous dismay.

"Sorry L... Slayer, didn't mean to intrude. You were... I mean... I'll be off."

Buffy ran a tired hand through her hair. "S'okay. Stay a minute. I was having a really horrible dream."

"Yeah, I heard." Spike shook his head, half to himself, refusing to meet her eye. "Can't be nice waking up to find me here, I'll get out of your hair." He dared a glance up. "I am so sorry, Slayer."

"Kind of got used to you calling me Buffy," she remarked absently, rubbing her eyes again and trying to shake off that nightmare feeling of dread. She eyed Spike narrowly. "It's not so much better waking up in a cold sweat on your own, no need to be sorry."

"Meant about giving you nightmares in the first place. And you can't want me here, do understand that."

"You'd think you'd have learnt your lesson, assuming you know what I want."

Spike visibly flinched, frozen halfway between the bed and the window. And where the hell had self-pitying Spike returned from when they were getting along so nicely? Comprehension dawned, only one thing could make Spike brood.

"Wasn't that kind of dream," she spoke softly, "And I didn't mean it like that."

Buffy wanted to say more, cause it was unnatural seeing Spike so dejected, but she didn't want to think about her dream and was too tired to find the words.

"Wasn't the other kind," said Spike dryly, not approaching the bed. "They smell nicer. And you said my name, screamed my name. Again, not in a good way." His eyes were sympathetic as much as pained, no melodrama here, just regret.

Maybe Buffy could learn to appreciate the new Spike, if only he would stop moping. But right now she was missing the classic version, especially the way he told her everything in a stream of consciousness rant that left her in no doubt what he was thinking. God he could be exhausting, but she had less than no idea of what to do with penitent Spike.

"Wasn't that kind of dream," Buffy repeated. "Only a nightmare of the standard 'we're all going to die' variety. Everyone was dead." She shuddered despite herself, trying to erase the mental image of her slain friends.

"I killed them?"

"Fuck no!" Buffy exclaimed with genuine exasperation. "There really is just the one lonely track in your mind, isn't there? And I really think I preferred it when the train was going in the other direction. Was a time when if I'd said your name in my sleep you'd never let me forget it, now you get all offended."

"I'm not-" for a second there was a glimpse of the old Spike, quickly reined in. Buffy decided to poke a little more.

"You know, you're starting to sound entirely too much like another vampire of my acquaintance."

"So what were you telling me not to do?"

The question was mildly spoken but the fear in his voice gave him away, he was plainly sure his original assumption was correct.

"You don't have to spare my feelings," he continued when she didn't answer. "I deserve it, we both know it, but you don't and I'm so-"

"Disintegrate," interrupted Buffy, unable to stand any more.

"Huh?"

If a reference to Angel wasn't enough to distract him she'd just have to steel herself and find the words. "The Uber-vamp killed everybody. You remember, the evil baddies that I'm actually worried about? I was going to kill the Uber-vamp when you just appeared, like apparated. Now I think about it, was probably my subconscious noticing you in the room. Like when your alarm goes off and your dream suddenly gets real noisy? Or if you get cramp in the night and dream something's biting your leg. Do vampires get cramp?"

Turned out her subconscious really didn't want to talk about her dream, either. She noticed Spike's raised eyebrow. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Yeah," agreed Spike fondly. "But I'm making a tit of myself so you're one up."

Buffy returned his grin but still felt a little uneasy, dreams for her too often portents. And she wanted to make sure he understood.

"I staked you," she confessed. "I was going for the Uber-vamp and I couldn't stop and you dusted. Really wasn't a good dream. But it was kind of nice that you were here when I woke up. And by the way? I think you've apologised enough for your entire existence, and if you don't cut it out you're going to end up with a deficit of evil deeds to catch up on."

And there was a real smile, the one he seemed to save specially for her.

"'Kay Love." His eyes held oceans of feeling but all he said was; "I'll take my self absorbed arse out of here and let you get some sleep."

Buffy pouted and wriggled over to the far side of the bed. "Stay. You can protect me from the nasty nightmares."

Buffy guiltily enjoyed watching Spike's face try to decide on an expression. Surprise, pleasure, doubt, more guilt, and oh look, lust. But she almost wished she hadn't spoken as he seemed to settle on embarrassment and toed at her carpet as he answered.

"Mighty kind of you Love. But I think I'm safest in the basement."

Buffy shrugged and burrowed herself under the covers. Well damn him too, not like she was going to jump him and they really did have an overcrowding problem.

"Suit yourself. But you'll be sharing with two new potentials and frankly I snore less."

Spike narrowed his eyes. "More girls?"

"'Fraid so. Giles got back after you went to patrol." Buffy folded back a corner of the duvet and patted the bed invitingly. "You are welcome, Spike, though it's okay if you'd rather not."

"Oh I'd rather." He stared at her a long moment before seeming to come to a decision, strode swiftly across the room and sat down on the bed. His movements were brusque and defensive as he unlaced his boots. "One more teenager and I might have had a relapse."

He suddenly turned and frowned anxiously. "I'm kidding, you know that, right?"

Buffy offered him a sleepy smile. "You're such an idiot, sometimes. I thought we were friends now?"

The absurdly pleased smile he gave her in return made Buffy feel indefinably guilty as he shrugged off his duster and got into bed fully clothed. Impulsively she snuggled against his chest.

Spike hesitated a second then put his arm round her shoulder and lightly kissed her hair.

"So we're friends now?"

A flash of panic but it didn't sound like a loaded question, just hopeful.

"Yes," she answered firmly.

"We're gonna win, Buffy Love. You're gonna give the source of all evil a darned good talking to and break all its evil toys and I'll have your back, the whole time, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Cause you deserve to have nice dreams about puppies and boybands and such."

Buffy laughed. Tried to imagine a dream where she slaughtered evil boybands but was just too tired. And this was just so... nice. Could dream about fluffy bunnies every night, sleeping like this, held and soothed and protected.

Why did her life have to be so complicated?

"Night Spike."

"Goodnight Buffy."

Spike listened as her breathing deepened and her heart rate slowed, wished he could pinpoint and preserve the precise moment of her falling asleep in his arms. When he was sure she was under he planted another soft kiss on her forehead.

"Love you, Buffy."

"Love you too," she muttered against his chest.

Spike smiled. It may not be him she was dreaming of this time, but it was enough that he'd stopped the nightmares.
 
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