"So what now?"
Her eyes strayed across the room to where he sat, a gaze he returned. It had been a few days since the warehouse burned, and was subsequently torn down by a wrecking crew the next day. There was a distinct change in her. She was coming out of her room more, speaking to others again, and they were both finding a way toward healing. She still had the nightmares and occasionally he would catch her staring off into space and shaking, but he couldn't fault her for that. He was still haunted by everything that had happened too.
"I don't know. I wonder if I should sell the townhouse. It's tainted now, for both of us I expect."
"But it's your home!" The words were blurted out loudly before she quieted. "I mean, you grew up there."
"I did. But we both know I never quite fit in there."
She remained silent and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking, allay the fears before they began, but it wasn't her he was thinking about when he thought of the townhouse. He thought about the rights as Ripper with his father, and then being possessed by that demon and abusing her, enslaving others there. It was all too much to think could be cleared away with time.
"I've been thinking."
"About what, dearest?"
"I've always been pretty fucked up."
"You're not-"
She waved her hand to silence his interruption, getting up off the couch to cross the room and kiss his temple. She sat on the arm of his chair, he didn't protest this time, and put an arm around his shoulders. He reveled in the affection, gratified and soothed by the fact that she didn't flinch at being touched.
"I've always been fucked up. Always. Life hasn't dealt me a great hand, but I've played it. This time I don't think I can do it on my own. I'm thinking maybe I try something I haven't tried before. They had a shrink in prison, did you know that? I tried talking to him once or twice before I busted out. Maybe…"
He looked up, wide eyed, knowing what she wanted to say and wanting to actually hear her say it.
"Maybe I should try again."
"Oh! Faith, that's…" He reached up and squeezed her hand, eyes shining as he looked at her. "I think that's a brilliant idea."
"Maybe you should, too?"
"Ah. Um, yes, I suppose it could help. The Council has some on retainer. They're trained to deal with our lifestyle. Plenty of trauma to go around in our profession."
She got up and then squatted down next to him, getting on eye level. She took up both his hands in hers, holding them as she sat.
"Tell you what. Let's try this for a while, see what happens. You don't decide what to do with the townhouse until we've been at this a while and I don't decide what to do with this ring."
He blanched. "You've been reconsidering?"
"Yes, but it's not what you think!" She tugged him up with her as she stood, wrapping both arms around him in a tight embrace. "Like I said, I'm fucked up. You deserve better than that for a wife, especially after everything."
"Faith, no," he admonished quietly. "You can't think it. I love you more than anything. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
He cupped her chin in his hands and pressed kisses to both of her cheeks. "I want you, all of you, for my wife."
"In my head I know that. The rest of me is kind of...well, it's just not getting the message. For sure it's me, not you."
The others had gone back to live in their own apartments, Buffy only after she had made him promise twice that he would call her, day or night, if he needed anything at all. Out of respect he'd let her have the run of the flat, in case she wasn't ready to share a room with him. Because she loved him, and because she knew he had his own trauma, she still slept in his bed. They needed to protect each other, knowing the other had been through something equally as horrific as their own trauma.
"You have a deal."
She nodded, happy to have that resolved. She knew she'd been sort of lost in her own head and missed how close she used to feel about him. She pulled him close and nuzzled his neck, placing a light kiss against it. He shivered, his fingers flexing against her lower back. He gave a soft hum ending it with a sigh. He kissed her cheek and moved up next to her ear.
"Faith…"
He was asking her permission. She paused, her eyes flashing with something he couldn't place. When she leaned up and kissed him he groaned, closing his eyes and pulling her against him. He scooped her up, carrying her to the couch, laying her gently on it. His eyes stated plainly what he wanted but he was determined to go at her pace. It had been a while since they'd been physically intimate.
"Faith, are you sure, dearest?"
"I think so. Just..." She looked away, frowning a little before looking back. "Just go slow, ok?"
"Of course."
He knelt next to the couch and kissed her, placing delicate touches of his lips on her skin like butterflies. She let out a low, keening sound tilting her head to allow him to travel down her neck. Encouraged, he continued to pepper light kisses over her skin, letting his hands slide along her body. When he lifted his head he looked her in the eyes and smiled at her.
"I love you, Faith."
"I love you too."
She sat up and drew his shirt over his head, running her hands down the musculature of his chest. It wasn't that she'd forgotten how he looked or the feel of his skin but in the moment it all felt like new. She marveled at him, taking each second of it in. She bent down and kissed one cheek, then the other, and then his lips. She savored those more than any touch of his skin and reveled in the warmth that blossomed in her belly and spread outward to the rest of her body. It infused her blood with love and confidence and a driving passion to feel what had become the air she breathed.
She had never known a love like him, or any kind of comfort like his touch.
"I want you, Rupert."
He grinned at those words, his face lighting up like the dawn. He reached out his hand and she took it, following him through the house toward their bedroom. She looked at all of the memories they had, photographs of the both of them, as she passed. She wanted to reconnect to that feeling. It was buried inside of her like a seed in the snow, waiting to be awakened with the warmth slowly suffusing her limbs with life. She nuzzled his neck again, nipping at his earlobe with a purr.
He swept her up against his body, kissing her passionately as they reached their bedroom. She returned it without hesitation and started working at his pants to get them to the floor. She overtook his senses, strippig logic and reason and replacing them with passion and love. Heart hammering, he stripped her clothes without hurry, letting her enjoy being adored, touching and memorizing every inch of her skin like new. Her sighs were something new to his ear and gratified him beyond measure. His hard length strained against his pants as he enjoyed her until she reached down and released it from its prison with a mischievous grin. She sank to her knees and took it into her mouth, causing a spasm through his body and a loud groan of her name.
"Faith, Christ, do you mean to undo me entirely?"
His senses took leave of him as she descended all the way down his diamond member, engulfing the length entirely. No thought could be held in his head as he sank a hand into her hair, allowing her to move at her own pace. Her tongue moved against the underside of his cock, unafraid as she took him all the way to the hilt. His teeth grit at the pleasurable onslaught, unable to hold back how impossibly turned on he was by her. He adored her, every part of her, and had missed their intimacy. He missed her passion, how beautiful she looked done up in pleasure. She moved at a pace that was nearly maddening, rising and descending over him quickly enough to keep him alive with ecstasy, but not close to enough to lead to his climax.
She swept her tongue up the underside of him from base to tip, letting her hand lazily work him over as she glanced up with lust hazing her eyes. He took her hand in his and knelt to be on her level, bringing her lips to his again. He sank down with her onto the carpet, taking up his crusade of kisses again.
"Faith, please, be merciful. I need you."
She looked into his eyes, taken out of their lovemaking for a moment. It took some searching before she nodded and moved to settle on top of him, her hips flush against his. She could feel him between her legs, shifting to make him slick with her considerable arousal. His entire body coiled in anticipation, hissing with indrawn breath when her hips shifted at last to take him in. She sank down over him slowly, so slowly, until they were flash together again. He didn't dare move yet letting her get used to the sensation.
"Tell me you love me," she gasped, her inner muscles working furiously at the intrusion.
"I have never loved anyone so well as you, Faith. How could I? You were meant for me and I for you. Every beautiful thing in you I see and cherish. You deserve everything but I offer you my love and devotion, insufficient as they are for what you deserve."
"Shut up," she returned affectionately. "You're good enough for me if I'm good enough for you."
With that she began to move over him crying out as she took him deeply. Her channel was sleek and tight and she moved as if she had all the time in the world to enjoy him. Rising almost all the way off and then plunging to take him back in entirely, she moaned and got used to the feeling of their lovemaking again. His hands took up her breasts and massaged them, doing everything he knew she liked. With a groan he pitched, arching up against her to drive deeper.
"Faith! Christ!" His hands dropped to her hips but he made no attempt to guide her; he simply wanted to be along for the ride. "Fuck!"
She laughed, the sound causing her body to ripple around him. "I like when you say that."
"Fuck!" He repeated in a strained tone, meaning it, but also partly to amuse her.
"Rupert," she bent down to kiss him. "I missed you."
"And I you, dearest."
He finally took up for her, moving to thrust into her body with every care to make it enjoyable for them both. His hands guided her to roll her hips, bringing her down even as he thrust up to meet her. They found a natural rhythm after a moment of adjustment, moving together as one. He drank in her cries and let them wash over him like a balm and clung to the fact that she loved him and that he loved her utterly in return. He gave up trying to think about anything as he felt her coming over him. His fingers flexed on her hips and brought her down faster, taking up to draw out her orgasm as much as he could. The way her body moved in the throes of passion was like art. He studied her face in the light from the window and the look on her face, losing himself as her beauty struck him. With a desperate groan he came just after her, burying himself and spending hard. She milked his length with an approving purr, shifting her hips to draw every drop from him.
When the waves of ecstasy passed he collapsed back, eyes closed. He was panting, no idea how much time had passed. His hands were still on her hips but they'd stopped moving. He glanced up; she was smiling.
"Do I want to know what you're thinking?"
"We could have at least made it to the bed."
To illustrate her point she slapped the mattress next to her, a scant foot from where they'd dropped. He began to laugh and she joined him. The sound was joyous and welcome.
"Next time," he promised. "We'll try to make it to the bed next time."
"Or the couch," she purred. "Or the kitchen table. Or the desk in your study."
"Wherever you want me, I'm yours."
