- 4 -


Buffy woke with the feeling of Spike’s arms wrapped around her middle, and his body pressed tightly against hers. She felt her heart flutter with the thrill that she always felt waking up this way—wrapped securely in the curve of Spike’s arms with his scent surrounding her. She lay there for a moment, her eyes stubbornly kept shut while she soaked up the contentment she felt before reality intruded and the feeling faded, leaving her with the heavy feeling she had gone to bed with the night before. She knew it was jealousy, and she hated herself for feeling it, but Drusilla had been his one and only for the past century and over the past few weeks her own feelings for Spike had been making themselves more than obvious to her. Buffy cared for him—deeply—and it stung to know that he was still in love with Drusilla.

She didn’t expect Spike to just forget about his sire; it was absurd to think that his feelings for Drusilla had died the same moment he drove a stake through her heart, nor did she expect him to be able to get over Drusilla as quickly as she had gotten over her love for Angel. Buffy had been afforded several months to come to terms with the death of her relationship with Angel, Spike had only had weeks. Buffy knew that, she accepted it even, but it didn’t stop the hurt she felt each time Spike brought his sire into the conversation and effectively—albeit unknowingly—reminded her that he had been in love with his sire.

Buffy slowly opened her eyes to stare blankly at the wall across from her; she didn’t want to think about Drusilla anymore, but the vampire refused to be erased from her thoughts. Sighing, she gently extracted herself from Spike’s arms, her body clock telling her it was roughly seven o’clock in the morning and she would need to be up soon anyway. She left Spike alone in the bed, the thin sheet haphazardly pulled up over his body, as she quickly dressed and left the room.

The house was quiet for once as Buffy made her way down the newly carpeted stairs. Despite her dampened mood, she couldn’t help the happy sigh that escaped her as she looked around her home—finally finished, and free of the workmen that had inhabited for the last few weeks. He’d never done this with Drusilla. They’d never settled down together in one place and made it home, Buffy couldn’t help but think with a small amount of smug satisfaction. As stupid as she felt for getting jealous over a dead vampire, she couldn’t stamp the feeling down. She felt possessive over Spike, as if he belonged to her in someway and the thought of Drusilla touching him was almost more than she could bear.

Unworthy. Drusilla was unworthy of calling herself his lover, when for over a century she had used him as little more than a sex toy and a minion to cater to her every whim only to turn around and throw it back in his face when Angelus reappeared on the scene. Spike deserved so much more. Buffy knew how deeply he could feel things, and she knew that his love for his sire had been no small thing.

Buffy didn’t—just couldn’t—understand what it had been about that woman that could so completely enthrall both Spike and Angel. Yes, Drusilla had not been without her beauty—tall, dark, willowy and mysterious, a seductively dangerous combination—but it was more than just an appreciation of her looks that had held them. Buffy couldn’t believe that their devotion to her had been solely on based on her gothic beauty. The only thing she knew for sure was if being like Drusilla was what it took to gain Spike’s attention, she would never be anything more to him than a friend. She couldn’t be.

Buffy sighed heavily as she made her way to the kitchen. She would only depress herself if she kept thinking about Drusilla and Spike. It was amazing how quickly her feelings for him had grown. That Buffy could be so deeply jealous of Drusilla after only a little over a month and half of living with the blond vampire was telling, not even Angel had evoked that strength of emotion from within her. Spike had pushed his way into her heart and taken hold of her, and she felt helpless to stop her descent.

Just the sight of him would send a burst of tingles racing over her skin. He excited her, left her breathless and feeling like she was freefalling with no end in sight, and she was left helpless to do anything but pick up the pieces of the mess to which he could effortlessly reduce her. Buffy couldn’t say that she was in love with him, not yet, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was well on her way to the real thing. And if this was the precursor to loving Spike, then what she had had with Angel didn’t deserve the title of love. It held little more than a spark to the fire that was raging within her, and that thought frightened her. Losing Angel to Angelus had been horrific; she knew she wouldn’t remain standing through Spike’s rejection if it came.

Buffy swallowed tightly. Already she could feel a knot of worry and dread forming in her stomach. Spike was a vampire and she was the Slayer—she couldn’t help but feel she was setting herself up to be crushed under the downfall.

I’ve got to be the worst Slayer in history, she mused to herself as she made her way into their kitchen and started to go through the motions of reheating leftovers from the night before for breakfast. One vampire was bad enough. I just had to fall for two.


~::~


Spike stared at the empty spot in the bed beside him. He had awoken not long ago after reaching out to draw Buffy’s warmth back into his side, instead encountering sheets that had long since turned cold from her absence. Disappointment had flooded his stomach as he had opened his eyes to confirm what his mind already knew. He knew he was being stupid, and more than likely overly sentimental, but since the first night he had crawled into bed beside her, there hadn’t been a morning when he hadn’t woken up to her—usually still held snugly within his arms.

His whole being felt icy from the lack of her presence at his side and her heat to warm him and suddenly it was of the utmost importance that he found her. She had gone to bed upset over something the night before, and the thought that it might have something to do with him worried him. Spike rolled from the bed easily and quickly pulled on his jeans from the night before, hurrying from the room barefoot and bare-chested to find her.

Spike could hear her long before he saw her, ordering around the men who had come to deliver their furniture.

“Just put that down over there for now, thanks. I can move it around to where I want it later,” he heard her ask politely as he reached the bottom of their stairs.

“Are you sure, miss? It’s pretty heavy. I don’t mind hanging around a bit longer if you wanted some help,” was the reply. Spike clenched his teeth, the tone of the man’s voice was silky smooth, so much so that was it was more than obvious he was flirting with his Slayer.

Buffy giggled and Spike’s insides constricted. She was responding to that wanker’s advances.

“That’s okay. I already have someone who is more than capable of helping me. Thank you, though,” he heard the Slayer reply brightly, and something inside him relaxed marginally.

That’s my girl. Tell him to go jump, Spike thought to himself even as he became aware of the fact that he was standing outside the door eavesdropping on their conversation like some pathetic loser.

“Does this someone happen to be your boyfriend?” the unknown male asked again.

Spike bit back a growl as he stepped into the room. He had heard more than enough from this wanker.

“Morning, pet,” Spike said silkily, effectively ripping her attention away from the other man. Buffy spun around at the sound of his voice. A bright smile lit up her face as her gaze landed on him and she quickly made her way over to him.

“Look! Our furniture is here!” she said excitedly as she reached his side.

Spike smiled back at her affectionately and drew her into his arms, “I can see that. It looks fantastic, kitten,” he replied sincerely even as he glared over his girl’s head at the wanker who was still standing stupidly by the couch. Buffy returned his embrace easily and Spike’s glare turned into a smirk in the other man’s direction, knowing that he had the human beat when it came to the Slayer.

Buffy pulled back and looked up at him happily. “It will, once we’ve positioned it all. I didn’t want to move anything around until you got here.”

“Well I’m here now. What’s say we get started while these other blokes bring the rest of it in, yeah?” Spike said, nodding absently in the human’s direction.

Buffy nodded quickly in agreement giving him a quick squeeze around the waist before letting him go. Spike smiled down at her, glad to see that the tensions and sadness that had appeared so suddenly the night before had almost completely vanished in the face of the excitement she was feeling of getting their new furniture. Yet as she moved away from him, he could still see remnants of it clinging to her every movement.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to manage?” The deliveryman asked again as Buffy made her way over to one end of the couch he had helped bring in.

“We’ll more than manage, mate,” Spike replied coolly, taking up his position opposite the Slayer. “You ready, love?”

Buffy nodded and together the hoisted the couch up and into their arms.

“Holy shit,” the human whispered as he watched the ease with which the two super beings lifted what he and his partner had struggled to.

“Excuse me,” Buffy called, gaining his attention. The man looked up at her with wide eyes. “Do you think you could move? You’re kind of in the way.”

“Oh, um…sure,” he said, taking more than a couple of steps backwards. “I’ll just go help the others.”

“You do that,” Spike added with a smug grin as he watched the wanker scurry from the room. Buffy felt her lips quirk in amusement, as she watched the man leave from the corner of her eye.

“You know you could have at least put a shirt on before you came down,” she said with a smile as together she and Spike manoeuvred the couch into the position the wanted it and gently lowered it to the floor.

“I was in a hurry to find you, pet. Was wondering where you had got to,” Spike replied cautiously, his senses attuned to her for any reaction to the comment. He was testing the waters he had been wary of broaching until now. With Angel’s death still so fresh, he hadn’t wanted to push her away by embarking on something he didn’t know whether she was ready for. Perhaps now was the time. While she had refused the human’s advances earlier, she hadn’t reacted adversely to them, and that knowledge gave Spike the confidence he needed to know that maybe she was ready to move on. If he waited too long and someone else came along, he would never forgive himself.

Buffy felt her throat constrict and her heart miss a beat and prayed to God that Spike hadn’t picked up on it. He had been in a hurry to find her. Buffy couldn’t prevent the swell of emotion she felt in her chest. He had missed her, or at least it would seem he had.

Against her will Buffy felt her cheeks flush pink.

“I, um…I got up early so I would be ready when our furniture arrived,” she managed to get out finally as she tried to swallow around the tight feeling in her throat.

“You should have woken me up, pet,” Spike replied, as his mind raced to piece together the significance of the skip and slight increase in her heart rate. Perhaps it was possible Angel wasn’t as close to the forefront of her heart as he had assumed.

“I wanted to let you sleep. I thought you might be tired having to keep daylight hours and all,” she lied, knowing that the she had just wanted to avoid facing Spike for as long as possible that morning. She knew he would have questions about what had happened the night before, and she didn’t have any answers for him. She had never been a fan of awkward confrontations, so instead she had let him sleep.

Spike moved around the couch till he was standing in front of her. “Thank you,” he replied sincerely. He knew she was lying to him, but he also knew that she wouldn’t take well to being forced into a confession, so instead he pulled her into his arms and placed a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

Buffy melted into his embrace, her heart in her throat and pounding out a rhythm for the world to hear. There was something different about his embrace—more intimate. She knew that something had just happened between them—something had shifted. She just didn’t know what that something was.




AN: Thank you Andrea for the beta and to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter *hugs*. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter :D

On a side note, this will be the last update I post for a while as I have end of year exams and assessments coming up at uni. I'm not going to promise anything, but if i can find the time, I'll try and have another chapter ready for posting by next week.