Title: A
Measure of Happiness
Author:
Valerie
Disclaimer:
All characters owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc. I own nothing.
Summary:
More post-Giftage. This is essentially a B/S romance (with sex, of course), but
also will eventually deal with grander themes of good and evil. Maybe.
Rating: R
for adult concepts, language and semi-descriptive sex.
Spoilers:
Through the end of Season 5
Feedback:
Yes please!
Distribution:
Sure.
Author's
note: The title of this chapter refers to the song of the same name by Sarah
McLachlan. Possibly one of the sexiest
songs ever written. Many of the lyrics are also included in the body of this
chapter.
When Buffy arrived at the Bronze, Willow and Tara had already staked out a table. They called Buffy over enthusiastically.
"Hooray, you made it!" Willow patted the seat next to her. "Ooh, nice outfit!"
Buffy looked down at her short skirt, embarrassed that she
had changed her clothes with Spike partially in mind. "Well, I did have a little time to shop in London when I wasn't
being interrogated by watchers or following Giles around museums. Not that I minded the museums,
actually. But you know how Giles can
be."
The girls nodded sympathetically. Buffy noticed right away that some of the weirdness had drained
out of their interactions with her. I guess they no longer feel like they're
looking at a ghost, she thought, remembering Spike's comment. "No sign of Anya and Xander yet?" Buffy
asked.
Tara pointed onto the dance floor, where Xander and Anya
appeared to be groping each other and arguing simultaneously. Buffy smiled and shook her head. "I weep for their children."
"Oh, there's Spike," Willow said, glancing toward the
door. Buffy jumped, then tried to look
cool.
"Yeah, I, um, sort of invited him to join us," Buffy
commented. "You know, as a thank you
for all the time he's put in helping me get back into shape, uh, with the
slaying," she explained unnecessarily. She watched as Spike worked his way over to them. He always walked like a predator. Two years with that chip in his head and he
still looked at humans like they were very much his prey. Or like she was.
"Evenin' ducks," Spike drawled, taking the seat next to
Tara, and therefore putting a significant distance between himself and
Buffy. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief;
he was obviously respecting her wish to keep their encounter a secret for the
time being.
"Hi, Spike, how've you been?" Willow asked, her voice
warm. She had come to genuinely like
Spike after Buffy died and she saw that his willingness to do good extended
beyond a desire to impress Buffy, something she'd suspected since she saw the
flowers with no card that he had brought after Joyce died. "I haven't seen much of you the last two
weeks. You been hiding out in that
crypt all the time, or did Dawnie finally tie you up and give you that manicure
she's always talking about?"
Spike grinned. "Oh,
you know, Red, I've been busy. This and
that, here and there. My sexual
fantasies about Buffy alone take up several hours of every day." He winked, while Buffy spewed beer out of
her mouth. OK, so he's going to keep the secret, but not without yanking my chain
about it, eh? Buffy thought. Fine. Two can play at that game.
"Oh, Spike, I'm sure Willow would love to hear your
masterbatory chronicles, but really," she deadpanned, glancing at her watch,
"we only have a few hours." Tara
giggled and Willow looked at Buffy with raised eyebrows. Spike making lewd comments was par for the
course, Buffy shooting back lewder comments in return was just weird.
Spike was also a bit surprised, but then he smiled and
tipped an imaginary cap at Buffy. "Touché, Slayer."
At that point, Xander and Anya joined them at the table,
still having their argument. "Evil Dead, my man! Up for some pool? Please?"
Spike nodded and the two men headed toward the pool
table. "Xander wanted to get away from
me because we were arguing about the wedding. He wants to elope. He doesn't
understand that being surrounded by friends and wearing a big, beautiful dress
while your friends are wearing poofy, ugly dresses is a basic feminine need,"
Anya stated.
"We're going to be wearing poofy, ugly dresses?" Willow
asked.
"Don't worry about Xander, he'll come around. I didn't come back from the dead so that he
could run off to Las Vegas and get married without me witnessing it," Buffy
said, patting Anya's knee.
"We're going to be wearing poofy, ugly dresses?" Willow
asked again.
The girls continued talking together while Spike trounced
Xander at pool a couple of times. After
a while they returned to the table, Spike carrying two beers, one of which he
offered to Buffy. "Thanks," she said,
refusing to meet his eyes.
"Come on, An, let's dance some more. I promise no more talk of eloping," Xander
said, kissing her cheek. Anya smiled,
took her fiancé's hand, and led him to the dance floor.
"Shall we?" Tara asked Willow, and they too went to join the
dancing couples.
Buffy and Spike sat in silence for several minutes, watching
the dancers. Finally, when the song
changed, Spike downed the rest of his beer and held out his hand. "Shall we?" he asked.
She looked at his hand dumbly. "What?"
He rolled his eyes. "What do you think? Dance."
"Oh! Oh. I don't know if that's a good idea."
"Come on, Slayer, I'm not going to shag you on the dance
floor." He grinned wickedly. "Unless
you want me to."
Now it was Buffy's turn to roll her eyes. "Fine, let's dance." One
dance, what harm can it be?
They moved onto the dance floor, surrounded by the pulsating
beat of a Sarah McLachlan song. Buffy
put her arms around Spike's neck and he put his hands chastely on her waist,
and with a conservative distance between their bodies, they began swaying to
the music.
...
voices trapped in yearning...
Buffy inhaled Spike's scent. Cigarettes and leather, and faintly, blood.
..the
night is my companion and solitude my guide...
Spike very gently moved his hands up so they were slightly
beneath Buffy's shirt. He caressed her
bare, warm skin. They moved slightly
closer to each other.
...and
I would be the one to hold you down
kiss
you so hard, I'll take you breath away...
God,
how does he do this to me? Buffy wondered, aware of every caress, and
feeling a little drunk from the beer and Spike's proximity.
..through
this world I've stumbled, so many times betrayed...
Spike buried his face in her hair. She smelled of vanilla and autumn leaves and something that was uniquely her.
...you
speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes...
Buffy began to relax a little, leaning her head against his
shoulder and closing her eyes.
...my
body aches to breathe your breath, your words keep me alive...
Spike pulled her closer, stroking her back and guiding her in the dance.
...and
I would be the one to hold you down
kiss
you so hard, I'll take you breath away...
Images of the night they spent together flashed through Buffy's mind. She pressed her body against his and absently stroked the back of his neck with her fingers.
...through
this night I wander, it's morning that I dread...
Spike longed to be alone with her. He had imagined making love to her again about a million times in
the last two weeks. He kissed her head
gently.
...into
the sea of waking dreams, I follow without pride
cause
nothing stands between us here and I won't be denied...
"Uh, guys?"
Buffy was jolted from her reverie by Xander's voice. She jumped out of Spike's embrace quickly,
glancing guiltily at Xander. The song
that had seduced them was ending and another song started up.
Xander offered his hand to Buffy. "May I have this dance?"
She took his hand and let him lead her away from Spike. As they started to dance, she observed that
Spike and Anya had started to dance with each other.
"So what was that about?"
"Huh?" Buffy looked
innocently at her friend.
"The close dancing with Spike. I thought I'd have to pry you apart with a crowbar."
"Oh, um, it was nothing. You know, the song..." She trailed off.
"Yeah, Sarah McLachlan can get you in the mood for
lovin'. Just be careful; I'm fairly
certain Spike is still into you."
"Me too," Buffy whispered.
"What?"
"I said, I'll be careful."
----------------------
When everyone parted ways outside the Bronze at the end of the evening, Spike and Buffy were left standing together. "Walk you home?" he asked.
"OK."
They walked in silence for a while. Finally Spike spoke. "So did the council keep
you busy every day, or did you actually get to play tourist at all?"
"Giles took me around to see some of the London sights. Big Ben, Parliament, Harrod's –"
"Horrid's, we used to call it. It's a tourist trap."
"Yeah. And we spent an exhausting day at the British
Museum."
"Hey, now, that's a great museum. The British Empire did a
lot of work pillaging other cultures to fill that museum."
"Yeah, I noticed. Actually, Giles made an excellent tour
guide; he pointed out which of the relics have magical properties and which
ones were actually made by demons and stuff. Definitely not part of the regular tour. But it was still exhausting."
They had arrived at her door. "This is my stop," Buffy said.
Spike pulled her into a long, languorous kiss that left her
weak-kneed and with her heart racing. Which he can easily hear, she reminded herself. "Um, Dawn's home, so I don't –"
"We'll be quiet," he whispered into her ear.
"I don't know," she said, torn between her desire and common
sense. She knew it wasn't a good idea getting deeper into this with Spike.
He kissed her again, then gave her his most seductive grin.
"Well, I can understand if you think you won't be able to control yourself.
Wouldn't do for li'l sis to hear you screaming my name."
She arched an eyebrow, then went to whisper in his ear:
"When I get finished with you, you'll be the one screaming," she said. He growled and pushed her against the door
for another kiss that she felt all the way down to her shoes. She opened the door and they both went
inside.
Later, she lay in bed with him spooned around her, his
fingers tracing up and down her arm. That's one nice thing about him being dead,
she thought, no body heat to interfere
with snuggling afterwards. They had
both been quiet, but it had definitely been a challenge. She figured it was a good thing he had
accelerated healing capabilities; the scratches on his back and her teeth marks
in his shoulder would probably be gone by morning. She smiled, and gradually, fell into a satisfied slumber.