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.
Rating: R for adult
concepts, language and semi-descriptive sex.
Spoilers: Through the end
of Season 5
Feedback: Yes please!
Distribution: Sure. Just
let me know.
Author's Note: The title of
this chapter is taken from the song by the same name by Jewel. Finally, an end
to the angst! For a little while, at least.
Chapter 15: Near You Always
Spike stood at the edge of
the dock, a small, weathered bag in his hand. He watched as lightening flashed
across the water and listened as thunder followed a couple of seconds later.
The storm was getting closer. He watched a man walk down the gang-plank of the
large freighter. With a single movement, he stood threateningly in front of the
man. "Where's this boat going, then?" he asked.
"What? Oh, ah, the UK,
I think. Swansea."
"That'll do." He
had never much liked eating the Welsh, but he supposed that wouldn't be an
issue this time. He let the man scamper away, then pulled out his cigarettes,
still staring at the ship. A few raindrops began to fall, splashing onto the
dock and the shoulders of his leather coat.
"You know, I was just
thinking to myself the other day that I hadn't driven a man out of Sunnydale
since I came back from the dead and it was getting to be about time."
Spike whirled to see Buffy standing several paces away, smirking slightly. He
didn't say anything in response, so she continued, stepping closer to him.
"You're just going to leave the DeSoto?"
"Can't drive to
Europe, luv," he said, turning back to the water.
"No, I suppose not.
Still, you and that car ... it doesn't seem right."
"Why are you
here?" he asked coldly.
"Because I went to
find you at your crypt and you were gone."
He turned to her again,
angrily throwing his cigarette to the ground. "What, did you get lonely?
Aching for a good shag? Sorry, pet, not playing that game with you
anymore."
Buffy let his harsh words
wash over her. "I've gotten a lot of advice over the last twenty-four
hours. First from Dawn. Did you know she's known about us for a while? She told
me that nothing about this is complicated. That you wanting to be with me and
me wanting to be with you should be enough. Then from Xander. He said breaking
things off because of Angel wasn't the right choice. He said I should just
figure out what I want and what's best for me and do that." It was raining
harder now, and the thunder began to drown out her words. She moved closer to
him. "So I wandered around for a while, wondering what that was. You see,
it's easy to say 'live each day the way you want to live it.' It's easy to say
'do what's best for you.' It's something else again to figure out what the hell
that is. So I decided to go see you. Not because I had figured it out, but
because I ... I just wanted to see you. And to apologize. Hell, maybe I was
lonely, like you said. So I went, and you were gone."
He frowned, watching the
rain dripping off her eyelashes. Finally he spoke. "I spent six months
loving you, wishing for a scrap, a crumb, anything from you. I hated
you, I wanted to kill you, I ached for you, I –" He stopped and swallowed,
looking at the ground. Then he looked up again into her eyes. "When I
finally knew, really understood, that you would never love me, I thought I
couldn't hurt any more than that. But then you died.
"When you came back, I
was just so relieved to be able to look at you again. Just to get to see your
face. Even knowing that it would never be more than friendship – that hurt, but
it was worth it. Then it happened. For whatever reason, you let me touch you.
You let me make love to you. I thought I was in heaven. I spent the next two
weeks trying to convince myself that I hadn't dreamed it. But you came back, and
it was real. You and me. And I knew. I knew you didn't love me, that you just
needed to feel needed and wanted. You needed me just to be there, no questions
asked. I knew deep down that eventually something would make you come to your
senses. 'Cause I'm not that bloke, the one you're waiting for. The one who's
going to take you away from all this.
"And that's why I have
to leave. Not because I'm not him, but because I don't give a damn that I'm not
him. I'll cling to you until it either kills us both or until I drag you down
into this dark place with me. I won't be a gentleman about it. I can't give you
up, not now. Maybe not even when I'm on the other side of the planet, but at
least you'll finally be free of me then."
Tears filled Buffy's eyes
as she listened to his words. They spilled over onto her face and mingled with
the rain. "You didn't let me finish."
He filled his dead lungs
with air, exhausted by his confession. "Then finish."
"I stood in your crypt
for a long time, staring at that damn TV. Just stood there. And that was when I
realized that my little sister was right," she said, grimacing slightly.
"What about?"
"We've been fools, you
and me. I've spent the last few weeks convincing myself that I didn't love you,
and you've been doing the same, telling yourself that your love was still as
unrequited as ever. But it wasn't true. Standing in that stupid crypt, candle
wax burning my fingers, staring at your ruined television, I realized..."
He moved closer so that
their faces were inches apart. "What?" he finally asked.
"I realized that I
love you," she said simply.
He stared into her eyes,
willing it to be true. Unable to stand the intensity of his gaze, Buffy tried
to look away, but his hand gripped her face and forced her to look at him.
Finally he spoke. "This time, I think being sure is a
requirement."
She took him by the
shoulders, pulling him into a kiss of startling intensity. She pressed against
his entire length and he felt her warmth through her wet clothes. Her teeth
raked against his lip, drawing blood. Finally she pulled away. "I love
you," she said breathlessly.
This time, he knew it was
true. He dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her
waist and burying his face in her stomach. They stayed that way for a time,
until finally she stepped backwards, causing him to look up at her
questioningly. "We should get out of this storm."
"I suppose we
should," he said, not moving. "I love you, Buffy."
She pulled him to his feet
and they headed away from the dock, the rain still falling in sheets out of the
sky. Buffy moved in a daze, still a little bit astonished at what she had
realized about her feelings for Spike. She looked down at her rain-soaked
clothes. "I must look like a drowned rat," she said.
Spike groaned as they
walked. "Only you would be worried about the way you look right now. We
had quite a moment back there, you know. Real romance novel stuff." He
looked up at the sky, smiling. "The rain just makes the setting that much
more gothic, and – AAAAGH!"
Buffy had gotten a little
ahead of him as he mused on the romance of their encounter. When he screamed,
she whipped around to see him lying on the ground a few feet away, and where he
had been walking, the severed end of a downed power line crackled.
"Spike!" she screamed, running over to him, wondering what effect an
electric shock would have on a vampire.
Spike was groaning and
lying on the ground. "Bloody hell," he rasped, trying to push himself
up on his elbows. "What the hell was that?"
"It looks like you
stepped on a downed power line," she said, relieved that he seemed to be
mostly OK.
He sat up, holding his
head. "That was … interesting. Like what the chip does inside my head, but
all over my entire body." He looked at her and smiled. "So much for
the romance."
She giggled. "Yeah,
especially with your hair standing on end like that," she said, and the
sight of him fussing with his hair made her laugh harder. The ridiculousness of
the entire night and the emotional overload caught up with her and she
collapsed on him, giggling hysterically. A few people abroad on that miserable
night stared in amazement at the couple sitting on the side of the street,
soaking wet, laughing and kissing as if completely unaware of their
surroundings.
----------------------------
"Let's go in through
the kitchen; I don't want to track mud all over the floors," she said,
dragging him by the hand around to the back of the house. Still laughing, they
stumbled in through the kitchen door. Buffy started to reach down to take off
her shoes, but Spike pushed her up against the kitchen counter, kissing her
passionately. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the
kiss.
Dawn, who was attracted by
the noise they had made coming in, watched them with an amused expression for a
few seconds before making them aware of her presence with a loud, fake clearing
of her throat. "A-hem!"
Buffy and Spike broke apart
quickly, Buffy frowning at her sister's interruption and Spike grinning
guiltily at Dawn.
Dawn smirked at them.
"I see Buffy came to her senses then," she said.
Spike smiled down at Buffy.
"Yeah, I guess she did."
Dawn nodded her head at
that. "Good. I'm going over to Lisa's house to study for our Algebra II
exam. I'll be back in a few hours." She started to head out of the
kitchen, then turned back to them, an evil grin on her face. "Oh, and
guys? I do have to eat in here, you know, so no sex on the kitchen table. Take
it upstairs." Then she dashed out the door before Buffy could react.
"When did my little
sister get so crude? Was that your influence?" she reprimanded Spike.
He shrugged, smiling.
"I'm sure it's Xander's fault." He looked at her. "You're
shivering, pet."
"Yeah, well, I am
completely soaked through," she said, her teeth chattering a little.
"Yeah, I
noticed," he said, unable to tear his eyes away from the way her shirt
clung to her skin. "Let's take Dawn's advice," he whispered in her
ear. "I'll warm you up."
In her bedroom, she let him
slowly, almost reverently undress her and towel her dry. She flushed,
embarrassed by his intense gaze. "What is it, luv? I have seen you naked
before," he remarked, smiling.
"I know. It's just ...
different now."
"Why? Because now you
love me?"
"No. Because for once
I'm not locking a part of myself away when I'm with you." They continued
staring into each other's eyes as he dropped the towel on the floor and
continued caressing her skin with his hands. She kissed him gently, enjoying
the feel of his soft lips against hers. Buffy ran her fingers through his
drying hair and down his bare back. She relaxed back against the pillows,
pulling him down with her. For a while they just clung to each other, needing
to feel the simple contact of skin on skin. Soon, though, their sexual need for
each other began to take over, and Buffy moved her hips against him in a way
that made him moan softly in her ear.
She rolled over onto her
back, looking into his blue eyes again. "Make love to me," she said.
While they made love, Buffy found that she was intensely aware of everything:
every caress, every kiss, every wave of pleasure that washed over her.
Afterwards, she curled up
next to him with her head on his shoulder, their fingers entwined. She brought
his hand to her lips and kissed it gently.
"Slayer," he
said, "Do you realize how bloody wrong for you I am?"
"Yeah."
"Then why? Why stop me
from leaving? And don't say because you love me; you have more common sense
than that." He turned and looked her in the eye appraisingly.
She shrugged. "Right
now, you make me happy. Right here, right now, this is what I want. I know it
might not last. I know eventually it might kill us both. But I can't bring
myself to care about that. I deserve ... I deserve a measure of happiness in my
life." She kissed him. "You give me that."
He kissed her back, wishing
fervently that at that moment they could just freeze time.
TBC! (Cause it can't stay
this happy.)