'She's beautiful.' Spike thought as he sat beside Buffy on her back porch the night her mother went to the hospital. He came here to kill her but the moment that he saw her tear stained face, he knew he couldn't go through with it.
He knew that this was not going to be easy. Loving a Slayer probably never was. Did he care though? Nope. He was love's bitch and now he belonged to her. Forever.
He hadn't known waht led to him loving her, but he knew he did. Probably more than he ever loved Drusilla. All he knew was he wanted to protect here.
As long as he had any say in it, she would always be protected. No one would ever hurt her again. Now, he was sitting beside her, trying to comfort herin her greatest time of need.
'Where the hell is Captain Cardboard? He's her tosser of a boyfriend. Where's he at?'
He wandered what could possibly be so important that he would ever leave her by herself to deal with her mother being ill. The only thing that kept him from going to kill him, was that Buffy needed him, and he would be damned if he left her alone.
The William inside of him had poetry going all through his mind. He had no idea he could have this much inspiratoin from one tiny woman.
He sat beside her, running the lines through his head. Wanting to write something that would be at least a little good.
When she decided she was going to head up to bed, he said goodnight and started walking home, reciting the poem out loud in little spurts. Once he finally arrived home, he quickly grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Then he wrote:
'I sit fin silence
with you beside me.
We both stare off into the distance.
Our minds linked.
Our bodies mirrored.
Backs hunched.
Shoulders rounded.
Knees being grasped.
Without talking
I know how you are feeling.
And at that moment
I turn my head to you and smile.
You complete me.
I love you.
You are my dream come true.'
Once he had finished, he went to his desk that had dislodged papers all over the place, knowing that there had to be something in there that had her picture on it. He had so many pictures of her before. Mainly to take in the view of his greatest enemy.
Now he realized that it probably wasn't all for the fact of wanting to know your enemy. It was more for the fact of wanting your enemy. He wishedhe had seen this sooner. Would have stopped him from wanting a bint like Harmony.
'Christ! Harmony! What am I gonna do bout her? Guess I could stake her, but I don't really wanna have to clean up the mess. Just gonna have to let her down easy I suppose. But how would I do it? I guess just write her a note or I could just tell her to her face. I will just have to figure it out.'
He sighed heavily, "AHA! I knew I had a picture of her somewhere in here." He pulled the picture out, admiring how beautiful she looked in it. Her hair was shining in the sunlight. Her mum was next to her smiling at her. He could practically see what Joyce was looking at in her daughter.
Potential.
Too bad that her potential was to be a Slayer. She would have had a great life without that calling. But in some ways he was greatly appreciative of whoever destined her to be a Slayer. Because if she weren't one, then he would have never met her.
And he wouldn't have written what he considered to be the best poetry that he had ever written. Yeah, he was definately glad she was the Slayer. But more importantly, she was his Slayer. And whether or not she noticed it or accepted it or acknowledged it, it was true.
Now all he had to do was put the piece of paper with the words that he had written her, about her, for her. All he wanted to do now was go to bed, and dream about the beautiful blonde that he knew he would be seeing a lot more of from now on.
He would be there for her no matter what came her way. He would see everything of her. The good and the bad and the things in between. He knew he loved her and he knew that he never left the ones that he loved. No matter what happened. He just hoped that she would see that, too.
FIN