Author's Notes:
Hmm, it seems that angst inspires more reviews than schmoop. It's almost like you guys want me to make you cry! 'Cause I can do that... (evil grin). Hmmm... to have a happy ending or not...
She had no idea what time it was. It could have been next week or only an hour later since they'd left the backyard. All she knew was…
Wow.
And he was hers for eternity.
They hadn't talked since they'd returned from Africa, not really. It had been a week, ten days, of quiet reflection and notbrooding, of crying jags and soulful healing touches.
And then shagging like lustful, love-starved, just-married rabbits.
He was okay with that part, more than okay. Even if it had felt like nothing more than paper wrapping at times, unreal and undeserved. As if a filthy creature like him could put on airs and pretend to be what he was not.
But Buffy, his golden goddess, was pleased with him, with his return to her side, with his attentions to her in bed. And if she was pleased, how could he not be for her sake? He could push aside the pain and the anguish, the sense of wrongness he felt about himself, and exist in her love for a little while. It was enough.
And really, this having a sodding soul, it didn't change who he was. What he'd done. He couldn't ever take it back. The poet in him might lament all the evil he'd done, want to notbrood about it, but the pragmatist – the part of him that still, even through his self-loathing, loved life – that part of him realized that it was time to suck it up and be a bleeding man. Not an echo of the Giant Forehead-ridden Poof.
Didn't mean he wasn't still prone to… reflection. A tenderness towards all of humanity that was new. Or, perhaps, renewed. A sense of caution that had evaded him for decades. Underneath it was still the demon, the blasted creature that had hurt the woman he loved, more than once. But it was repressed now, held back even more than it had been before the soul, when it had only been by sheer force of his will. He was no longer ruled by his lust for blood and sex and violence, no longer dominated by rage and unbridled need. It was still there, but muted. And that was what mattered.
She'd died because of his demonic nature. He'd hurt her in other ways too, but her death and painful resurrection had been what had pushed him over the edge, made him understand that, yes, he did need a soul to be a man, a man worthy of the Slayer, and he'd done what he had to do to make sure it would never happen again.
The tormenting guilt he felt for everything else as well was no more than what he deserved.
He snuck out of their marital bed to fix himself a meal, something he'd only done while she was asleep since he'd returned with his shiny new soul. Maybe she didn't care anymore, but he did. He didn't need to see the reminder in her eyes of what he was.
No need for misunderstanding his feelings on the matter – he might say he wanted to be a man, but he didn't fancy being human really. He was right fond of the strength and power at his command, despite the unsavory need for blood that came with it. He was simply adjusting to being so very conflicted about his nature, something he'd never once been since he'd been turned, not even after falling in love with the Slayer.
Spike took his mug and sat on the couch, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace and notbrooding like he did so frequently.
He hadn't spoken much since they'd returned, between the force of his own bouts of crazy and not wanting to ruin her adorable enthusiasm for the special day they'd just had. But now, he knew he needed to talk to her, get things sorted. Amid her return from death and then demonic stint, followed by the move and his leaving for a soul, they hadn't ever really discussed just what they were to each other or where they were going.
He knew she considered them married, in spirit if not in name, and where they were going was no doubt Sunnydale so Buffy could return to her duties and classes, but… was she expecting him to be her sidekick? Househusband? Wage-earner? His role was undefined and it left him anxious.
It was all very well to be passionately in love, but fantastic shag-a-thons were not all there was to a married relationship, even Spike understood that. She'd hidden the debt she'd taken on from him, though there was no questioning the why of it. He hadn't exactly been prepared for such a topic these last few days, and he was sure she would have told him eventually, but he was ready to set everything straight now. Make sure there was nothing else left unspoken that shouldn't be.
Finished with his meal and his thoughts, Spike climbed back into bed, kissing Buffy's shoulder as she rolled into him, mewing sleepily.
Stretching languorously, Buffy slowly opened her eyes. She was sore all over, but it was a good kind of sore. A my-husband-just-gave-me-the-best-night-of-my-life kind of sore. Her eyes trailed the sleeping form of said husband, and she couldn't help but press her lips to his cheek. His face was soft and boyish in sleep, the worry lines that had creased it since she'd found him in Africa nowhere to be seen.
Buffy contemplated him, wondering how much he had actually come to terms with his newfound conscience, and how much of his calm façade was just for show. There was a spark that was missing from him now, that devil-may-care zest for life that he'd always had, along with his self-confident swagger and arrogant, aggravating smirk. He put up a good front, but she could see how haunted his eyes were when he thought she wasn't looking. She only hoped that the comfort she offered him was helping and not hurting him more. He wasn't quite as willing to talk as he'd once been, wasn't telling her everything, but she got it. She'd been there herself not so long ago.
She'd put off really talking to him, giving him time with his thoughts while she focused instead on their celebration, which had seemed more and more important to her as the thought grew in her mind. It was time now, though, to draw him out from the shell he'd encased himself in.
Buffy got up and fixed herself a bowl of cereal, surprised to see it was already past noon, then freshened up and returned to bed, watching Spike as he slept through the early afternoon. Now and then, he'd tense and flail, and each time she wouldn't have to do more than smooth his brow before he settled down, once more as still as a corpse.
When the filtered light coming in through the closed curtains began to dim, she pulled away the sheet that was draped over his midsection, rolling her eyes when she saw Spike was already half-erect. At least having a soul hadn't changed that part of him. Stroking him until he was fully engorged, she scootched down, engulfing him in her mouth. She could tell the moment he awoke, from the way his body tensed and then relaxed. His hands crept into her hair.
"Like this?" she asked around him.
"Think 've died and gone to heaven, waking to your hot little mouth on me".
Buffy hummed contentedly. He'd told her he'd be happy to indulge any of her fantasies, and waking him this way had been one of them. Not that it was terribly kinky, but it wasn't like she was a girl with much experience. Each new sexual experiment with Spike was kinky to her. She rather liked it that way.
When she could sense he was close, she squeezed his balls gently, rolling them in her hand, and he came with a shout, his grip on her hair bordering on painful. After he released her, she moved back up his body to lie in his embrace. "Morning, husband," she said, a thrill running through her at those words.
"Mmm. Think we should get married more often. Like this, having nothing other to do than love your sweet body".
"It is nice isn't it?" Buffy replied with a satisfied smile. "What about… talking? Is that okay too?" she asked softly, trying to ease into a conversation.
"Love talking to you, pet. You know that".
"Okay. Good. 'Cause, I think we've got some things to talk about. Not – not in a bad way or anything, but-"
"Shh, luv. I was thinking the same earlier".
"Earlier? When I was…? Was it not good?" she asked, crestfallen.
"Bloody hell, Buffy. Could barely remember my name then, never mind wanting to talk about anything serious. Silly chit," he murmured affectionately. "I meant earlier earlier".
Relief coursed through her. "Oh. Good. 'Cause that wouldn't do much for the self-confidence," she laughed shakily.
"Nothing for you to worry about there, sweetheart. I don't think I've made it clear enough to you. Everything you do to me, for me, with me – it's like nothing I've ever experienced. Nothing holds a candle to you".
"You're exaggerating".
"No, 'm a man desperately in love. Much better".
She snuggled into him, sighing. "It is. I love you so much. Which is why… we should talk". She pressed a kiss to his chest. "But maybe you should start. Tell me how you're doing. Really".
"I think I'm okay. Or, I will be. If I had to do this on my own… my sympathies to Angel, I can understand what the wanker was going through". Spike closed his eyes and Buffy waited, sensing he wasn't done.
"The thing is, the soul makes me think about the past, and the future. Demon was perfectly content to live in the present. I… I'm not going to sit around and brood 'bout what I've done. Hurts, plenty, but… Can't change it, no point in boohooing it. Best I can do is play the White Hat and make amends that way. The thing I worry 'bout is the future. I – this is new to me. I feel like I should have some kind of plan. Goal. Maybe even… a mission, much as it disgusts me to sound like his Broodiness. And I don't know how that fits in with what you want, because truth be told, luv, I'm not sure what you want from me besides a good time".
"Ouch," Buffy protested.
"Ah, no, don't take it that way. Just me running off at the mouth. I meant I know how to take care of you on that front. But what else am I to you? We're playing at married, so… do you expect me to bring home the dosh? Mow the yard? Cook and clean? I haven't much to offer you in a traditional sense. 'M not sure what my role is. This is all new to us".
She pulled away from him so she could look him in the eye. "First, you better understand we're not playing at married. I know it's not legal or whatever, but… You. Are my husband. Got it, buddy?"
Spike nodded contritely, a little half-smile on his face.
"Second, your role is whatever you want it to be. You're not my slave or anything else. You're my partner. My equal. So, if you want a mission, then that's what your role is. I just… I just hope it's in Sunnydale, because that's where my mission in. Although… the Council still doesn't know about me being back, so I guess we could go somewhere else if you wanted to…"
Spike stared at her in wonder. She would do whatever he decided? That was too much responsibility on him. He shook his head quickly. "No, pet, enough trouble at the Hellmouth for two of us. And you've got your school to get back to".
"I don't have to go," she shrugged.
He frowned. "Yes, you do. Know it's important to you, not going to keep you from that".
"I don't know… it's not like… I've been thinking about this. I've already outlived my expiration date. Or out-resurrected it, I guess. It was silly of me to ever think I could be a normal girl. What good is college going to do me? Maybe I should just focus on my calling, especially now that I'm so strong. Really focus on my own mission. It's what I'm good at, what I'm meant for".
He cocked his head, studying her. There was something she wasn't saying.
"What is it?" he asked gently. She didn't answer. "Buffy. I love you. Nothing you say to me could change that. Tell me what's wrong". She tried to curl in on herself, but he didn't let her.
Sighing, she said, "It's not like I'm good at anything else. I'm dumb at school stuff. And I can't do any wifely things like cook or keep house. Even my own mother would rather have a vampire cook for her than have me do it. I can't even drive a car. It's… well, it's discouraging. I'm not good at anything but killing things. Even you have more going for you than that. No offense," she added quickly. "Just – you know, you're a vampire. Shouldn't I be better at real life than you?"
His poor girl. "Buffy, sweetheart. You aren't failing at life. You're still so young. You can't expect to be accomplished at every little thing, when your Slaying duties have been getting in the way of what you call real life. You got into college didn't you? Can't be that dumb. And it took me 150 years to learn how to cook. So give yourself a little credit, yeah?" He kissed her brow. "There's nothing wrong with wanting more than you're supposed to have. You want to be more than just the Slayer, good on you. I wanted more than what I was supposed to have – and look. Got me you, didn't it? 'M the poster child for reaching beyond your limits, and you are too. No other Slayer like you. No other woman like you. S'why I love you so much".
She was snuffling against him. "Yeah, you're right. Okay, that's good. I can… But! Oh!" She sat up again. "I'm supposed to be helping you feel better, not making it about me!"
"How can I be happy if you're hurting? Foolish girl". He stroked her hair. "Tell me, luv. What do you want? What do you want besides being the Slayer?"
"I… I don't know, really. I mean, I want to get a degree, but I have no idea in what. And…I want to, you know, learn to keep house a bit better I guess. Maybe you could teach me to drive?"
"Whatever you need. We'll take it one step at a time. There's no rush. You've got your whole life".
"No, I don't. I'm not going to live long".
"You listen to me, Buffy. You will. You were the best Slayer the world had ever known before you died – and now you're stronger than ever. You've got your mates to help, and now me by your side. If you think, for one instant, that I will ever let you die again-"
"Okay, okay!" she gave in with a breathless laugh. "Long life, got it. Or at least, a few more years". She smiled at him. "So, we're still a go with moving back to Sunnydale and me going to college. We patrol at night, save the world, and come home and celebrate our success with some good-quality loving. What about the rest of it? What else do you want?"
He shrugged. "Could get a job".
"A – a job? You?" she replied incredulously.
"Did it before, in Sunnydale, when I had that flat. How'd you think I was paying for things?"
"Was trying not to think about it, honestly. What kind of job?"
"Muscle, mostly. 'M strong. Invulnerable. Pass for human. Makes it easy to get work, good-paying work too".
"Work that your conscience will be okay with?"
"Yeah, no worries there".
She frowned. "I don't want you thinking you have to support me. I mean, I could get a job. And I have loans and a small amount of scholarship money…"
"Would make me happy, luv, to take care of you. My girl shouldn't worry about that if I can do it".
"This is going to sound petty, but… just another thing you're better at than me".
Spike shook his head. "No, Buffy. You could do the exact same work – but you've got something more important to worry about – your schooling. Let me do this for you, okay? Let me take care of you".
"That's really what you want?"
"Funny enough, it is".
"You're so weird".
"But you love me".
"Yeah. I do. I really, really do".
Spike's eyes filled with tears at her declaration, and she wiped them away. "Aren't we a silly pair?"
"Happy, though, yeah?"
"God, yes. Never knew I could be this happy". She kissed him softly. "And you? Are you happy?"
"Happy as can be".
"Do you want to talk more about – you know? Will you tell me about your past? It might help".
"Not yet, luv. I will though, I promise. Need more time on my own with it first".
"Okay. But – I'm here for you. Like you always are for me".
He gave her an acknowledging kiss, and they fell silent for awhile. "So we're sorted, then?" Spike asked after a time.
"Yup. We're going to be a regular all-American couple. You know, minus the fact that you're a walking corpse and we're going to be spending our evenings killing things that shouldn't exist".
"You're pretty spry for a corpse yourself, pet. And don't forget the incredible shagging after. Know nobody else is going to be having the fun you're having".
"Well, they better not be. I'd be jealous". Buffy licked her lips. "But 'til then, the only thing we need to worry about today is…"
"The incredible shagging?"
"That's my man".
"Think we should come up for air? Say hello to the others?"
"I don't think they expect to see us for days. Now, about this incredible shagging. Why don't you show me how it's going to work".
