**Set in the sixth season, sometime after "As You Were", the one where Buffy dumps Spike. The song is "The Safest Place" by LeAnn Rimes from her album
Twisted Angel. This title is also taken from the same album. Anyway, enjoy. : D**It was midnight. Rain was falling steadily outside, streaking the windows. The world was crying, and Buffy was sure no one noticed but her. She was sitting on her bed, legs tucked under her, absently brushing her hair. Due to the rain, she had opted not to patrol - she didn't want to ruin another pair of shoes. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. And what was up with all the rain lately, anyway? It had been almost three days of non-stop raining, with a brief period of murky skies and muddy ground that just screamed *apocalypse!*. Hey, at least it was matching her mood, right? No, that's wrong, Buffy was happy, she'd done the right thing.
"I'm using you. I can't love you. I'm just…weak and selfish…"
"Really not complaining here."
"…and it's killing me. I have to be strong about this. I'm sorry…William."
Yes, she'd let him down as gently as she could have. She was dying, she could feel it inside. Then why do you feel so empty?
Angrily, she put her hair in a ponytail and began changing out of her pyjamas.
****
Dawn was sound asleep in her bed, the slim crack of light from the open door illuminated her peaceful face. Buffy closed the door softly before creeping down the stairs, being careful not to wake her sister or Willow. She was too restless to sleep, so she decided to take the jeep out for a drive. Shrugging into her leather coat, Buffy ran out the front door, keys in hand, and dove into the relative safety and warmth of the vehicle. For a moment she just sat there, remembering the last time she'd been in the car. It had been daytime then, sunny and warm, just before the rain had started…
Sunlight streamed through the car windows as Buffy sat, staring ahead at the beautiful green grass and the stately gravestones of the cemetery. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the ignition key. Unceremoniously, it tumbled to the floor. She bent down to grab it, but she couldn't see it, everything was blurry. Her tears were staining her pants and her breath came in gasps and hiccups. She was crying. Buffy was crying. Why? Oh yeah, something about demon-baby-eggs and trying to be strong. Frantically she tried to wipe her eyes and nose, but the sobs came and wracked her body. She wasn't supposed to feel this way. She wasn't supposed to cry for him, for
them, but she was, because she felt her heart being ripped from her chest. Guilt, that's it, she felt guilty for breaking his heart. Somehow, she knew it was all Spike's fault, it always was. Outside, rain began to fall…****
As Buffy turned off Revello drive, she turned the radio on, trying to drown out the pounding of the rain and the silence in the car. It was on some sort of hard rock station, electric guitars and wailing voices screamed at her from the speakers. She twirled the dial, flipping quickly through talk shows and classical music at high velocity. A snippet caught her attention and Buffy adjusted the dial to bring the song into focus. It was Sarah McLachlan, one of those dreary yet comforting songs that Buffy loved. She drove in silence, letting the music wrap around her like a warm blanket. When the song ended, Buffy felt much better. Maybe she'd be able to get some sleep now. She decided to take a quick drive around the demoniest parts of town to make sure all the evil things were taking rain checks on account of, well, the rain. Buffy turned the car onto main street and decided that the radio's current song was a little too upbeat for her. Damn that Shakira.
Buffy dug around in the glove compartment as she waited at a red light. She grabbed one of Dawn's CD's, the one Janice had given her for her birthday. Dawn had said it was a mix, that Janice made it special for her with all her favourite songs and had burnt it for her. Buffy didn't know what burning was, and she hoped it wasn't something illegal, but she figured if her sister had told her about it, it must be okay. She popped it into the CD player and listened to it whir around. The light turned green and Buffy drove forward. The first song was some kind of icky teeny bopper song by one of those stupid boy bands. Yuck. Next track. An evil sounding girl screaming lyrics, fighting with the blaring sounds of guitars and drums and…other unnameable instruments. Garbage. Next track. This one seemed interesting, a little spunky, a little sweet, not too much rock. Hmmm, this would do.
Day time, I'm fine
Everything is back to normal
Last night I thought that I would die
I had nightmares I was so scared
Thank God that you are by my side
To hold me when I cry
I wanna be strong
But I don't wanna be alone tonight
I wanna believe that I can save the world
And make it right,
Uhhh, ok, a little weird with the life-mirroring lyrics here…
But I'm only human
And you've got a hero's face
Right here in your arms
Is the safest place, the safest place
The song was poking her in the heart, it was telling her something. Buffy kept driving, but she wasn't really focusing on looking for demons anymore, the lyrics seemed too important…
It feels so real
You showed me I can trust you
With emotions I had locked away
It was your touch, your words
They healed the deepest part of me
That only you can see
I wanna be strong
But I don't wanna be alone tonight
I wanna believe that I can save the world
And make it right, but I'm only human
And you've got a hero's face
Right here in your arms
Is the safest place
As long as I am with you
As long as I can feel you
That's all I need to keep me going
On and on and on and on…
Once again, Buffy found herself crying alone in her car. This was becoming a bad habit. But hey, the song was right. Spike kept her going. That's why she went to him. It was comfort, it was sanctuary. Yes, it was selfish, and she was using him…that was wrong. But it's the other stuff that was right. The way his eyes twinkle when he sees her, the way he makes her want to hit him and kiss him all at the same time, the way her heart jumps when she senses him near her, his cold touch on her skin, his soft lips, his beautiful blue eyes, his adorable curly hair…a car honked as she swerved into oncoming traffic. Buffy's heart was beating a mile a minute, but it wasn't from her brush with death.
I wanna be strong
But I don't wanna be alone tonight
I wanna believe that I can save the world
And make it right, but I'm only human
And you've got a hero's face
Right here in your arms
Is the safest place
Right here in your arms
Is the safest place, the safest place
The safest place…
She parked the car. Her body was shaking, she was fighting back tears. How could she have been so stupid? She wasn't dying, she was falling in love. She'd been scared, she'd been angry…she'd convinced herself that she couldn't love him. That she couldn't love the Big Bad. This was her MO. Reel them in then toss them back. That's why she treated him that way. She didn't want to be hurt, so she hurt him instead. It didn't have to be that way…no, it didn't. Buffy got out and locked the door, then started running through the cemetery. The song had brought her right to him.
****
"Spike?" she called out. There was no answer. Cautiously she entered the crypt, dripping water all over the stone floor. The floor and furniture were littered with empty beer bottles, drained packets of blood and greasy buckets of chicken wings. Barbeque, she knew. The candles weren't lit, but they were still drippy. Recently used. She gingerly stepped around the litter and placed a hand on the top of the television. Warm. Downstairs, he must be downstairs. She gathered up her courage - she was going to fix her mess.
****
He was lying in his bed, naked, as usual. His ivory body was marred with cuts and bruises, his face bloody. Buffy sat beside her prone love and began cleaning his wounds with a wet cloth. He moaned in his sleep - no, in his unconsciousness, because sleep is peaceful. Gently, delicately the cloth moved across his body. Down his chest, up his arms, around his mouth. The bruises already looked better than they had when she'd first arrived, and his cuts were healing nicely. She took a clean part of the cloth and began wiping the blood off her hands. Once clean, she stroked his face, revelling in its sharp planes and smooth skin. Her thumb brushed across his lips and his eyes finally opened.
"Buffy?" he muttered groggily. He figured he was dreaming. His Slayer wouldn't be in his crypt, not now, not ever again. Spike almost whimpered in his frustration, almost growled at the cruelty his subconscious was showing him, but all he managed to do was sigh at his pathetic life. The dream-Buffy shhhed him and began running her fingers through his hair, playing with it, watching it straighten then curl, straighten then curl under her touch. Spike's eyes fluttered closed at her caress. Maybe this wasn't such a bad dream after all… Her fingers left his hair and began wandering down his face, studying his features like it was an interesting story written in Braille. She fingered his scar, the one on his eyebrow, and that's when Spike realized she was warm. His eyes snapped open and he looked at Buffy. Her hair was wet, very wet, and water was dripping onto her clothes and his bed from the tip of her ponytail. She was wearing her leather jacket and there were water droplets seeking the ground in rivulets. Her jeans were soaked, her shoes were soaked…he figured it was either still raining or she'd forgotten you needed to be naked to bathe. Her fingers were now making their way down his arms in little swirls that made his skin itch. Why was she here? What was she doing? He searched her face for the answer, and he found pain; her brow was furrowed, her mouth tight, her jaw set. His blue eyes met her green ones and they spoke to each other.
I'm sorry.
For what, love?
For…everything. For leaving.
I understand…
No, you don't. I was wrong.
Pet -
No! I lied. Well, I didn't know I was lying until a while ago, but it was a lie all the same.
Why are you here?
Does it matter?
Yes.
Oh.
Did you clean me up?
Yeah.
Why?
You looked pretty bad.
Bar fights'll do that to a bloke.
You got in a fight? Why?
Cuz the girl I love left me.
Oh. I'm so sorry.
Yeah, you said that.
I don't think you understand yet.
Really? What's there to understand?
I lied.
You said that too. But you didn't explain.
I need you.
Uh-huh.
No, really. I…I love you.
Come again?
I love you.
Her fingers found his and they entwined each other. He sat up, never breaking contact with her eyes. Their faces were inches from each other and he could feel her warm breath on his cold face.
Say it again.
I love you, Spike. Oh, God, I love you!
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes for the second time that night. Buffy felt the sobs clutching her throat, hitching her breath. They were nose to nose now, and she didn't know why he didn't kiss her. Maybe…maybe he didn't love her back!
Of course I do, pet. You know that.
And he brushed his lips against hers, softly, lovingly. Spike pulled the tie from her hair and she shed her jacket. Then she laid against his naked chest and began to cry. He stroked her wet hair as she released her anguish. She clutched at him like he was her life preserver, her saviour. Spike pulled Buffy even closer and as her sobs lessened, she found that she fit perfectly against him, head on shoulder, arm on chest, stomach against hip. She felt peaceful, safe. As she drifted off into her long-awaited sleep, that song echoed in her mind.
Thank God that you are by my side
To hold me when I cry
I wanna be strong
But I don't wanna be alone tonight
Together they fell asleep in the comfort of each other's arms. Outside, it stopped raining.