"Spike…" Buffy shouted up at him, but the wind caught her voice and carried it away.
Squinting and bracing herself against the wind, she took a laboured step forward and narrowly avoided being whipped by his coat as it danced about in the gale. Edging around the tomb, she looked back up at Spike, who was standing like he was on a cross with a look of sheer elation on his face. She smiled and shook her head at how much pleasure he could get out of something so simple as the wind pushing against him-challenging him. Suddenly his face turned to one of disgust and a heavy frown knit his brows.
"What the…" Wiping his cheek with his hand, Spike looked at it with sheer repulsion-it was covered in a clear jelly like substance.
"What?" Buffy called up to him and this time he heard her.
Hopping down from the tomb, he held his hand out for her to inspect.
Spike couldn't help but tilt his head as he watched her pretty nose wrinkle up at the sight of the slime coating his fingers.
"Some bugger thinks it's funny to go sliming…" He was cut off by the wet slapping noise of slime hitting Buffy's leather jacket.
Buffy looked at the arm of her coat and then accusingly at Spike, whose slime was still on his fingers, and he hadn't moved a muscle. Frowning, she scanned the cemetery and spotted their assailant-a 6ft tall overly muscular demon that was dripping goo as it walked toward them.
"Demons are so gross." Buffy wiped the slime off her jacket and tried to ignore the hurt look that crossed Spike's face.
Slipping her coat off she placed it over the top of a headstone before getting into a fighting stance. She hesitated as the slimy demon continued toward her.
Spike looked over at Buffy as she just stared at the demon, a pensive look on her face. He couldn't blame her for having second thoughts about launching an attack; he wasn't exactly enjoying the prospect of getting completely coated in the cold sticky substance that was on his fingers.
"You really sure we want to do this?" Spike asked her as she took several deep breaths that he recognised as a precursor to her attacking.
"No…we aren't doing anything. I'm doing this." Buffy replied flatly and kept her eyes fixed on the demon, avoiding Spike's hard look at all costs.
"It's always me, me, me with you, Summers. You think I'm going to bloody well let you tackle that thing alone, you've got another thing coming, missy. Besides, this is my sodding cemetery and it's not your bloody place to tell me what I can and cannot fight. It's not like we're going out, you're not my damn girlfriend…you're not even a sodding friend." Spike growled as he turned to face her, his exasperation evident in the tone of his voice and every word he spoke.
Buffy visibly cringed as he shouted at her over the wind. She knew from the number of swear words in his speech and the way she could clearly see his jaw muscles that she'd touched a raw nerve and amazingly, she felt bad about it.
Since she had come back from the dead, Spike had offered her comfort with no questions asked and now she'd taken the friendship he given her and thrown it back in his face.
Only he'd turned around and thrown it right back at her.
Whoever said that the truth hurts was right.
Buffy felt like she was being split in two by it. Part of her wanting to admit that she wanted him to fight alongside her, that she needed him in this fight.
That she needed him, period.
The other part was telling her to ignore him, just get on with the fight with the goo monster and let him do his own thing. In a day or two, he would have forgotten about this and he'd welcome her back with open arms.
Something about that thought stuck in her throat.
A feeling of discomfort settled in her stomach and squirmed there.
She'd done this far too often.
She'd thrown hell, heaven and high water at him and he'd borne it all. He'd taken every insult, every jibe and every harsh word, and he'd let her come back to him with her problems every time-never once mentioning what she'd said to him.
To hurt him.
To push him away.
So she didn't have to face her feelings for a little while longer.
But each time she had pushed him away, she'd gone back to him and now it had dawned on her that she actually liked patrolling with him-that was why she was here now. She liked being able to sit with him in silence, or talk to him about whatever was on her mind.
She liked the fact that he listened without judging her and when she was done, he offered her all the reassuring words she would let him.
She loved the comfort he gave her.
"Fine." Buffy said with false resignation and out the corner of her eye, she caught sight of him smiling-it stirred warmth in her stomach reminiscent of an inferno. She'd never made him smile before. "Just don't get in the way."
Spike nodded. "Wouldn't dream of it, love."
Buffy was about to turn her attention back to the demon when she felt something cold and sticky grab hold of her. She squealed as she was lifted from the floor and her legs dangled helplessly.
It took Spike a moment to realise what was happening, but the second it got through to him, he punched the demon square across the jaw-only it was deflected by the slime and slid harmlessly off Buffy's attacker and hit her instead.
"Gee…thanks." Buffy muttered through a face full of slime and wriggled hard. As she began to slip from the demons embrace, she landed a solid kick at the juncture of its thighs and grinned as it let go of her.
Spike winced as he watched the demon grab at its crotch and make a small bubbling noise that he figured must have been a cry of pain because the next second it had launched itself ferociously at the Slayer. Grabbing hold of the monsters arm, Spike struggled to keep a grip on it as he tried to pull it away from Buffy.
Buffy punched it hard in the chest, pulling a face of disgust as she started pummelling it as quickly as she could. Almost every punch that she landed slid off the demons slimy body and she didn't want to look at her hands-she could feel they were coated in the clear jelly-like substance.
Spike wrapped his arm around the demons neck as he leaped onto its back and tried to contain it. He grinned as it made a choking noise and saw Buffy roll her eyes over how much he was enjoying it. Just as he was about to make a comment, he was thrown to the floor.
Buffy looked down at the slime-covered form of Spike on the floor.
"Gross much?" She stated and Spike looked sickened as he gazed down the length of his body-his precious leather duster slimed beyond recognition.
The next thing Buffy knew was a sharp pain as her shoulder smashed against a head stone. She grabbed hold of her arm tightly in an attempt to ease the pain, but it began to throb so hard that her whole body felt like it was pulsing with intense heat.
Spike scrambled to his feet only to be thrown roughly against a tomb. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and then growled as he saw the demon advancing on him. Leaping to his feet, Spike punched the slimy monster hard in stomach and then grunted in pain as it grabbed hold of his head and smashed it against the tomb.
Through the throbbing in her body, Buffy watched as the demon continued to smash Spike's head against the solid stone wall, never relinquishing its vice like grip on the vampire. Something about it enraged Buffy and gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up and stumbled towards the demon as it flung Spike to the ground like he was a rag doll and then turned to face her.
Buffy plunged the stake into its shoulder as deeply as she could and then yelped in pain as she was thrown roughly to the floor next to a semi-conscious Spike.
As the demon pulled the stake out of its chest, it made a low bubbling noise and regarded the weapon for a moment before throwing it at her.
Buffy dodged the weapon and then looked up as she held onto her shoulder.
"Wound for a wound." She spat at the demon and then quickly covered her face with her arm as it made a snorting, wheezing noise and shot slime all over her and Spike.
As the cold slime slid down his face, Spike groaned and Buffy looked over at him. She reached out and wiped the jelly from his face, scooping it out from around his eyes and flicking it to the floor.
"You okay?" She asked as he slowly opened his eyes and moaned.
"What happened?" Spike gave her a confused look as he found a slime coated Buffy watching him.
"One second it's throwing my stake at me, the next minute it's blowing slime at us. Wait…eww…did that thing just sneeze on us?" Buffy wrinkled her nose up in distaste as she looked in the direction the demon had made off in.
"Bloody well looks like it." Spike muttered as he propped himself up onto his elbows and then shut his eyes tightly as pain made his head spin.
Buffy let concern briefly show in her eyes as Spike clutched his head and breathed out sharply through his nose.
"You alright?"
Spike gave himself a moment for her words to etch themselves on his memory and then opened one eye and looked at her.
"You think this is where Angel gets his hair gel from?" He waited tentatively for her to say something, but her expression remained stony.
It started out as a small giggle that seemed to escape her lips no matter how hard she tried to contain it and before she knew what she was really doing, she was laughing.
And it felt good.
Spike grinned and chuckled along with her.
He'd never thought he'd hear her laughing at a joke made about Angel, but there she was, covered in slime and laughing so hard that he could practically see her tonsils.
Gathering herself, Buffy looked down at the pile of ooze they were sitting in and pulled another face of disgust. The slime had been bad enough when cold, but now it was warming through from her body heat it felt as though it was starting to set. She could almost feel it stiffening against her skin.
"Think we should get cleaned up." Buffy mumbled as she sat up.
Spike nodded in agreement and scrambled to his knees. "You think we should tell Giles about the Slimy-what-his-face?"
"Yeah…oh…we can't. He's out, gone on some retreat to find himself or something." She tried to wipe some of the globs of slime off her clothes and then giggled. "We could make a sport out of this. Slime wrestling…could make a fortune."
Spike chuckled as he tried to steady himself. "Willy would probably pay for it…"
With each movement Buffy made, she became increasingly aware of just how much mucus covered her body; she could feel it oozing down her skin. Looking at Spike as he held a hand out to her, she tried not to laugh. He was plastered head to toe with the clear jelly and even though he was doing a fine job of not looking bothered by it clinging to his skin and his leather duster, she could see that he wanted revenge as badly as she did.
Taking hold of Spike's arms, she tried to find her footing in amongst the slime. They stood slowly, their grips on each other tightening as they tried to maintain their balance on the slippery ground.
Spike tried to remain standing as Buffy slipped, but not even vampire agility could save him as she yanked down on his arms. Falling face first into the muddy slime, he growled as Buffy erupted in laughter.
"Sorry…it's just…what a night." She giggled as she got onto her hands and knees and slowly eased her way to where he was laying in the mucus. Gritting her teeth, she took hold of his shoulders and pulled him up off the ground.
Her eyes widened as she saw the right side of his head clearly for the first time.
"Jesus…" Buffy breathed as her eyes roamed over the blood that seemed to cake the whole side of his head. It had seeped into his hair and mixed with the slime, making it look like cranberry jelly. "Christ…what did that thing do to you?"
Spike hadn't been bothered by the damage done to the side of his face until Buffy had become suddenly, and uncharacteristically concerned. He raised himself to his knees and then tentatively touched the side of his head. Bringing his fingers away, he frowned down at the red slime clinging to them.
Buffy grabbed the hem of her top. "Keep still."
Before he could question what she was doing, she was using the bottom of her top to clean the side of his head. She carefully wiped all the mucus from it, trying not to disturb the grazes and long scrapes that marred his skin. She shut out the small voice at the back of her mind that said she was slipping; she was showing feelings towards Spike when she should be letting him take care of himself.
Spike closed his eyes as he concentrated on the gentle sweeps of cloth against his skin. He breathed deeply, keeping himself under control as he listened to the sound of her heart beating hard against her chest and her soft breathing.
Something had changed.
She'd been close before, close enough that she would let him reach out to her and talk about things.
But she'd never been so close.
So attainable.
If he just reached out a little more, stretched a little further than he'd allowed himself to previously, he knew he could touch her.
As she stopped cleaning his face, he opened his eyes and stared at his knees. He quickly realised that she was crawling away from him, all he could see was her backside wiggling side to side as she moved towards the clean grass. Following her lead, Spike crawled onto the slime free ground and stood up.
Buffy raised her brows as she looked at him and she could tell from the amused look in his eyes that she was just as slimed as he was.
"We really need to get clean…I think this stuff is starting to…ow…" Buffy grimaced as her shoulder ground in its socket and she grabbed hold of it.
"Ow?" Spike cocked his head to one side and walked over to her, concern evident on his face as he looked at her shoulder. "Looks pretty nasty, love…"
She craned her neck to the side and tried to look at her shoulder; from what she could see, it was as grazed as Spike's face.
Buffy almost jumped as Spike's hand appeared in view and he wiped the slime off her shoulder. He'd never touched her anywhere other than her hands since she'd come back and his fingers seemed to set her skin on fire as they brushed against her, removing the mucus and revealing the cuts underneath.
Pulling his duster off, Spike took off his red shirt and used it to clean the cut on Buffy's shoulder. He frowned in concentration as tended to her and tried to ignore the worry that had settled in his stomach.
They needed to find out what this demon was and if there were any side effects to the mucus. By now it would be in both their systems, and where he was sure he would be immune, he couldn't say the same for Buffy.
"What?" Buffy said as she caught the anxious look in his eyes.
"We need to find out what this demon is, get you cleaned up and get some antiseptic on that." He nodded at the cut and she suddenly looked worried.
"You don't think…I mean…it's just slime…it wouldn't be toxic…it couldn't." Buffy tried to hide the panic that was welling up inside her but it was clear from the gentle look on his face that he'd seen it.
"It could…" He said in a soft voice that he hoped would reassure her as he struggled against the tidal wave of fear that was threatening to overwhelm him. "But I'm buggered if I'm going to let you…you know."
Buffy nodded.
She knew he'd never let her go again. He saw her return as a blessing, a second chance and now he was never going to let her get hurt-he'd always be there for her, protecting her.
"Let's get you home." Spike wrapped his leather duster around her shoulders as she cleaned the slime off her face.
Grabbing her jacket off the headstone she'd placed it on, they started out of the cemetery and back to her house.
Buffy didn't complain when his arm lingered around her, the sensation of it against her body seemed to alleviate the weight of worry in her stomach and she found herself leaning into him.
The walk back to her house was a silent one and even with Spike's arm never leaving her, she still couldn't stop her anxiety from increasing with each step.
As they reached her front door, she pushed it open and called out to her sister. When no reply came, she remembered that Dawn was staying the night at Janice's and she was silently thankful. She moved straight across the room to the stack of books that were sitting on top of her weapons chest.
Spike caught hold of the book as she went to pick it up and he took it away from her.
Buffy turned to look at him with a confused expression and he looked toward the stairs.
"Go, get showered, love…clean up, scrub if you have to…just get that bloody stuff off you."
She stood silent for a moment, fighting an internal battle against reason as she looked at him.
Everything seemed to have changed in such a short space of time. A small admittance that she was treating him wrong had upset her world of denial, it had broken the floodgates and it seemed like all her feelings were crashing in around her.
Engulfing her
Until she felt as though she was drowning in them.
"What about you?"
Her question was asked in such a curious and childlike tone that he had to smile and look at himself. She was right, he was a complete mess but right now, his primary concern was her.
"Don't worry about me, sort yourself out." He turned her around and pushed her toward the stairs but she looked back at him, a smile fleeting across her lips.
"You can shower second."
And with that she disappeared upstairs and he was left staring down at the book on demons he was holding tightly in his hands.
He could shower second.
She was suddenly so comfortable around him, not only allowing him to touch her, but offering him home comforts, too. It had taken one solitary outburst from himself to hit her the hardest. All the blows they had exchanged over the years hadn't done as much damage as a handful of words.
They hadn't even been carefully chosen.
It had been a spur of the moment outpour of his pent up feelings about what was happening between them and for once she'd listened.
Buffy had actually listened. She'd taken in every single word and it had clearly changed her.
Released her.
He sighed heavily and looked at the chair and then at himself.
Something clicked.
He could shower, but he didn't have anything to wear.
Buffy walked down the stairs to find Spike standing in exactly the same spot she had left him. She rubbed the towel against her wet hair and let her eyes trace the outline of his body as he stood straight as a statue on her living room rug.
"Find anything?" She tried to hide the hope in her voice, something about the calm look on his face told her she was safe but she needed to hear him say it-needed to hear his dulcet tones soothing away the hurt again.
"Grak'schul." Spike said as he stared intently at the open book in his hands.
"That the name of Mr Slimy?" She asked as she moved to look over his shoulder at the page, getting as close to him as possible while not getting slimed.
"Yep. Your regular, non-toxic slime demon." He grinned and handed her the book, the look of relief on her face made his smile widen.
"Thank god…" Buffy sighed and then frowned as she realised she had just put her hands in slime that had been left on the cover by Spike. "You want the shower?"
"Slight problem…no clothes." He shrugged as she cocked her head to one side and assessed what he was wearing.
"No problem. I'll clean them with mine, they'll be dry by the time we're done researching Mr Slimy." She said breezily as she put the book down on the table. "Now, shower, mister. Just leave the clothes on the vanity with my ones and I'll grab them while you're getting clean."
Spike carefully peeled the sodden clothes off his body. He was more interested with being in Buffy's bathroom than having a shower. Taking in his surroundings, he placed his clothes down piece by piece on the small vanity unit like she'd instructed him to and started his investigation.
He opened cupboards, savoured the smell of her perfume and smiled amusedly at the small rubber duck that was sitting on the rim of her bath.
It felt like he'd stumbled into Buffy's inner sanctum. The place where she was just the girl, not the Slayer or the heroine, just the woman she hid deep inside.
He arched a brow at the sight of her clothes next to his on the vanity. Deftly rummaging through them, he grinned as he extracted her panties from the slimy mess and held them up.
Spike gave them a curious look. In the long years of his existence, he'd never seen anything so small-they were barely worth wearing.
His thoughts got stuck on that word.
Wearing.
She'd been wearing these up until a few moments ago, had been fighting along side him in them against the slimy demon and he couldn't stop his body from reacting. He shifted uncomfortably on the tiled floor as he looked down at his crotch.
"Not now." Spike hissed at it but the feeling of her lacy string against his fingers and the lingering scent that permeated the air was making control slip through his grasp.
Ramming the panties back into the pile of clothing, he frowned at it and took a deep breath, trying to claw back some modicum of control.
Turning the shower on as his body began to relax, he stared briefly at the mirror above the vanity and held his hand out to it, touching the cold glass and frowning at the absence of a reflection.
It was something he'd never got used to.
It made him feel like he didn't exist.
He suddenly felt empty inside, cold and dead like he was.
Taking one of the small peach-coloured hand towels, he draped it over the mirror and glared at it.
He did exist.
He did.
And she made him feel like it more than anything else, with one look in his direction she could let him know that she really saw him, and saw what she meant to him.
Stepping into the shower, he methodically cleansed himself of slime by starting at the top and working his way down the length of his body. He winced as he ran his head under the jet of water and the heat of it stung the cuts that ran across the side of his face and into his hair.
The sound of the door easing open made him halt his breathing.
He could hear her heartbeat; it was pounding hard and fast against her ribs and playing out a pretty melody that had him instinctively slipping into hunt mode. He couldn't stop himself as he focused on her as she shifted around the bathroom, probably gathering their clothes.
He closed his eyes as he heard her footsteps stop and he wondered what she was thinking.
Buffy cocked her head to one side as she looked at the towel-covered mirror.
For some reason it seemed to hit something home about Spike that she'd never thought she'd find herself thinking.
He really was a man with a demon co-inhabiting his body, and not the other way around.
He could deal with everything about himself, the blood, the violence, the darkness, the death, but he couldn't deal with this one thing.
Lack of reflection.
She pondered it as she looked at the mirror.
What would she feel like to know she was there, but not there? Did it make him feel as though he only half existed? Like he was a shadow walking between two worlds but belonging to neither? Did a century or more of existence get wiped away the moment he saw no reflection looking back?
Her reflection had made her feel comforted when she'd come back. It had let her know she was really there and she had felt better for seeing it. It gave her a sense of reality, a sense of existence because she could see her reflection.
A sense that she wasn't alone.
She was right there in the mirror whenever she needed someone.
Spike didn't have that.
She realised that the movement in the shower had stopped and reaching out her senses, she could feel his focus on her intensely in her stomach.
She froze as it dawned on her that Spike was naked, in her shower, with his vampiric senses honed in on her.
Her stomach flipped.
She turned slowly and stared at the misty glass panel of the shower.
"Spike?" Buffy said weakly.
"Yeah, love?" His voice came back to her, deep, British and laced with curiosity.
She closed her eyes and swallowed noisily.
All she wanted to do was tell him that he did exist; he was as real as she was. She wanted to reassure him of that, but her words failed her and the moment slipped through her fingers.
"It's nothing…" She said feebly and cursed herself for being weak. There was nothing wrong with offering a little reassurance to Spike after everything they had been through together. He deserved a friend and she knew if she allowed herself to, she could be that person, the one he needed. "I've put a bathrobe over the chair…I'll go clean these things now…promise not to shrink them."
She took a step toward the shower and bit her lip as she held onto his clothes.
Listening to him moving again under the water, she walked toward the bathroom door and stopped with her hand on the knob.
She took a deep breath and quashed her nerves.
"You do exist." She whispered before closing the door behind her.
In the shower, Spike closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.
Buffy was pouring in the washing powder as she felt him approaching her from behind. She let her Slayer senses focus on him as he slowly advanced, stopping just a few feet from her.
"Don't laugh." He said in a serious tone that had her automatically ready to giggle.
Turning slowly to face him, she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter that was pushing up from her stomach-the sight of Spike in her white towel bathrobe was amusing to say the least.
She let her eyes run down his body until they reached his feet, her brows rose as she looked at his ankles-the bathrobe barely reached halfway down his calves, whereas on her it almost touched the floor.
She giggled.
"I said don't laugh, missy." Spike waggled a warning finger at her and she reigned in her giggles and tried to look serious.
"Sorry…just the sight of you in my bathrobe…it's…well, nice ankles." She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter from bubbling up again as he scowled at her and then looked down appraisingly at his ankles.
"Thanks…I guess." He muttered and then raised his head to meet her eyes.
Buffy's laughter fleeted from her lips as she found her eyes locked with his and she swallowed hard. She wondered if he'd heard what she'd said about him existing-if he did, he was doing the honourable thing and not picking her up on it.
"How about some hot chocolate while we look into Mr Slimy?" Buffy managed to break his gaze and walked straight past him to the stairs.
"With little marshmallows?" Spike asked as he followed her.
"With little marshmallows." Buffy confirmed as she held the basement door open for him and then watched him walk into the kitchen.
She didn't know why, but the sight of him walking around her house in her bathrobe made her stomach warm. It was a scene of such domesticity, something she'd never expected to see when Spike was involved and oddly, it felt nice.
Buffy walked into the kitchen and looked at him where he was sitting at the kitchen island with the books spread out in front of him. The bright lights directly overhead made it apparent to her that the cuts on his scalp had been irritated by the water of the shower and had begun to bleed again.
Spike caught her hand in a lightning fast move as she reached out towards him. When she gasped and furrowed her brows, he realised he was hurting her and released her hand.
"Sorry…instinct." He mumbled as she continued to stand next to him with shock echoing in her eyes.
Seeing she wasn't going to make another move to touch him, he caught hold of her hand and pressed her fingers to the cuts in order to show her it was okay.
Buffy watched his strong hand guiding her smaller one along the grazes on the side of his face and she realised she was concentrating more on how it felt to have him holding her hand than she was on the wounds themselves.
As he let go of her hand, she looked at her fingertips.
They were red.
"You're bleeding again." Buffy said quietly and he looked up into her eyes.
"I know…it'll stop soon." Spike answered with a reassuring smile. "Will stop even quicker if you make that hot chocolate."
Buffy nodded and went to move away, but instead turned around to face him again with a serious look in her green orbs.
"Just don't get blood on my bathrobe."
Spike nodded in agreement and let his eyes follow her as she moved around the island to the mugs that had been placed on the counter in preparation.
At first, he watched her as she started to make the hot chocolate, but after a while, he started to idly flick through the books in front of him, searching for any more information on the Grak'schul that would be of use to them.
He had a feeling they were going to meet it again.
As Buffy appeared directly in his line of sight, he watched her quietly pouring the hot chocolate into the mugs and narrowed his eyes. It seemed like such a perfect moment, free from words or fighting, just Buffy and himself in a domestic scene that went straight to his heart.
He felt like she was building bridges with a mug of chocolate.
As she pushed it towards him, he gave her an appreciative smile and couldn't help noticing the way she was clearly waiting for his approval of the drink.
He blew on it and then took a small sip.
"Good…make it like your mum does." He said with a warm smile.
Buffy felt her whole body heat through and she realised she was blushing as she dropped her eyes to rest on the counter.
"I'm not that good." She said with a weight of honesty in her voice that made him want to reach out and cup her cheek in order to reassure her that he'd been telling the truth.
Instead he just stared at her and then down at the drink in his hands. He watched the marshmallows puffing up as they floated on the surface, spinning slowly as they followed the current she'd caused by stirring the drink.
His eyes unfocused as he let the marshmallows whirl around in front of his eyes, his brain travelling down routes that he'd barricaded long ago when she'd told him she could never love him.
Never is a promise.
And from where he was sitting, she was going to break it.
He hadn't realised she'd moved around the counter until her foot accidentally brushed against his. He inhaled sharply and listened to her mumbled apology as she arranged herself on the stool beside him.
"Grak…" Buffy tried to remember the name of the demon they had encountered.
"Grak'schul, love." Spike pushed his book along the counter until it was sitting neatly between them. "Need to find a weakness, something we can use to figure out what it's up to."
Buffy nodded and let her eyes linger on his for a moment too long.
She'd never realised how blue they were, in the bright light of the kitchen with him so close to her they seemed so intense, so rich in colour as he watched her intently. She could see he was trying to figure out what she was up to, it was all there in his eyes for her to read and she realised he was always like this with her. He wore his heart on his sleeve for only her to see, would open up and tell her everything, just in case she took the chance and let him in-it was as though he hoped that by giving himself so openly and freely to her, that she would be encouraged to do the same in return.
And part of her was.
Only the other part of her felt the need to continually push away from him and put him in his place-at her feet.
He was a vampire.
She was the Slayer.
They should be fighting to the death, not sitting peacefully with hot chocolate and research.
Not falling in love.
These feelings were wrong.
Worse than that-they were wrong, but they felt so right. She'd never been so open with anyone as she was with him and each tiny step she took towards accepting him into her life, she grew more bold and opened up a little bit more.
Soon she'd be wearing her heart on her sleeve too.
That petrified her.
To think that she could be so vulnerable, as vulnerable as she had ever been in her short life, and that she had to trust him not to take what she would be giving and break her with it.
And oddly, she did.
Times like these she didn't see the vampire, she saw the man and he was a vulnerable as she was. He was sitting next to her, his eyes locked with hers as they searched her innermost feelings, looking into every corner of her soul in the hopes he'd see what he was trying to find.
That crumb.
That tiny sliver of hope that one day she could love him.
And right now, she wanted to give it to him, hand it to him on a silver platter and tell him his patience had paid off.
There was a chance, glimmering in the recesses of her soul, hidden deep within her so she didn't have to admit to its existence.
There was a chance.
That scared her too.
If she let him in, he'd want to be all the way in. He wouldn't settle for what Riley had, or Angel. He'd want all of her, right down to the core. She was living a life too full of danger to let someone do that, to let them in all the way, until she couldn't live without them. She'd even kept her sister at bay, and her mother before that, locking away a tiny portion of herself so if she ever lost them it wouldn't hurt so badly.
But Spike would want it all. He wouldn't accept what she would want to offer him, wouldn't take the part of her she was willing to sacrifice to the fear of losing him.
Wouldn't stop until he had every last bit of her, had made her completely his and she needed him more than anything.
She couldn't let someone do that, couldn't bear the pain that would tear her heart apart if she lost them, couldn't let them reach in and take hold of her soul.
She couldn't.
Tearing her eyes away from his, she tried to ignore the hurt look in his that said he'd seen the change in her feelings a moment before she'd broken contact.
She quietly sipped her drink and ignored the pain he caused inside her when he sighed heavily and pulled another book toward him.
He sat in silence for a few minutes, scanning the pages in front of him and trying to shut out the fact he'd seen her, for a few short seconds she'd let him really see her before taking it all away again.
"Eyes." Buffy said and then realised that it was probably the exact thing he was thinking about.
"Huh?" Spike looked over at her, his face a mask of blankness, not one emotion on show and for some reason she didn't like him hiding his feelings from her.
"It says we have to, eww, gouge out its eyes." Buffy pulled a face of disgust as she showed the book to Spike; he just stared at it and then shrugged.
"So we gouge its eyes out, no problem." He said flatly and then caught the slightly hurt look in Buffy's eyes. He didn't mean to be like this with her, didn't want it this way, but something about the way she'd get so close to him that he could practically taste her when he breathed and would then pull away again drove him crazy and he couldn't bear it anymore.
It was all or nothing.
All she had to do was make her decision and choose.
He knew it was going to be hard for her, knew her modus operandi as though it was his own, but love was a world of tough decisions and he wasn't going to settle for second best. He'd seen the way she loved, only giving half her heart to the person she was supposed to be in love with, and he didn't want that.
He wanted it all.
Every last drop of her.
Spike swallowed his pride and met her eyes, letting his own soften slightly as he held her gaze for a moment before speaking.
"Patrol with me."
Buffy felt her breath hitch in her throat. They were more than just three simple words; they were an offer and an ultimatum at the same time.
She didn't do ultimatums.
So she tried to skirt the issue and buy herself time to think. "When?"
Spike wasn't willing to give her that time. "Tomorrow."
Buffy just swallowed noisily and toyed with her mug as she tried to think of something to say. She wanted to patrol but things had seemed to spiral out of control tonight and now she was scared of how close they were getting to each other.
"I can't." She said resolutely and listened to his breath hiss through his clenched jaw as he exhaled his disappointment.
"Why not?" Spike ventured as she continued to keep her eyes fixed on her mug and the way her fingers were idly stroking it.
Buffy knew it was going to sound pathetic before she even said the words but her sister had put such effort into arranging everything that she couldn't back out now, no matter how much she really wanted to.
"Because it's Valentines." She said quietly. "And I have a date."
Spike felt like she'd just punched a hole in his chest and ripped out his heart as he stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open and disbelief in his eyes.
He took a moment to collect the fragments of his feelings and shrugged it off.
"Of course." He said in a bitter tone. He'd meant to say it casually, a flippant dismissal of the pain she'd unwittingly caused, but it had come out full of crushed emotions and now she was looking at him with eyes full of regret.
Buffy tried to let his expression and the tone of his voice roll off her, like water off a ducks back, but it wouldn't shift and she was struck by how easy it was for her to hurt him-and how much she hurt herself by doing so.
"You don't have a date?" She asked in a small voice that was laced with curiosity.
"Didn't say that." Spike said with false bravado as he heard the machine in the basement stop and was thankful for the distraction. "Clothes are done."
Buffy took the hint and slipped down from her stool. She could tell he didn't like the fact that he was her prisoner while his clothes were cleaned, and it was clear to her that he really wanted to leave now that the mood between them had cooled.
"I'll need to dry them." She said absently as she moved toward the basement door.
When she reached it, she stopped and looked back at Spike. She wanted to ask why he'd offered to patrol with her when he had a date but she already knew the answer.
If it wasn't her, then it wasn't important.
He'd blow off his date in order to spend just a few moments with her, close to her, fighting by her side.
She knew it instinctively, because she'd do the same.
"Spike…" She started and then almost lost her nerve as his eyes met hers again and even at that distance, she could see the hope in them, could feel it in his signature. "…Let me sleep on it, okay?"
Spike nodded, he'd be a fool if he said he wanted her to make a decision right that moment. Pushing Buffy wasn't something a wise vampire did and he knew that by granting her a few hours to think about it, he was exponentially increasing the chances of her actually patrolling with him rather than going on her date.
"Buffy…if you do decide…meet me at the Bronze…"
She hesitated for a moment before answering him with a restrained nod of her head. What he'd proposed didn't sound much like patrolling but she knew why he'd asked her to meet him there. Everyone in Sunnydale that had a date would be down the Bronze, it was where she was supposed to be going and by asking her to meet him there, he was giving her to the last second to make her decision.
She was thankful to him for granting her that.
Because she'd need it.