PART SIX
He slipped into the training room, unnoticed by the others. He'd weighed his options—listen to the lot of them explain what was going on, or go to Buffy. Really, there hadn't been a choice. He clicked the door shut quietly behind him and just looked at her.
She was killing her punching bag. Right, left, right, left, kick, kick, left, left, right, kick, right, kick. She had heard the door click and paused only long enough to say, "Go away, Spike." Then she continued on the defenseless bag.
He stood there for a moment, watching her vent her frustrations. She had a neutral expression on her face, refusing to show emotion. Like the little announcement out there hadn't affected her at all. Like she didn't care. Like this was just normal training that was going to bring the bag down from the ceiling. But he knew better.
"Slayer."
She stopped punching, holding the bag still. "What? What do you want? Can't you just go away?" She rested her forehead against the bag, not looking at him.
He approached her, but she still wouldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the pity. Either pity, or gloating. Knowing Spike, it would most likely be the gloating.
When he stood close enough to touch, he said softly, "Look at me, Buffy."
"Go away."
"Slayer, look at me," he said, starting to sound annoyed.
She stubbornly kept her eyes on her feet, rubbing her head back and forth on the bag. "No."
He shoved her hard. She looked up in shock at him. "Why the hell did you do that?" she asked, rubbing her arm where he'd pushed.
He didn't answer. His eyes held a challenge. Before she could ask him again, he punched her. Completely unprepared, her head flew back and she stumbled. Her eyes narrowed angrily at him. So that's the way he wanted it? Fine.
Spike hid a smile when she assumed her fighter's stance. She'd get no satisfaction from hitting an inanimate object. If this was what she needed, he'd give it to her.
"Come on, Slayer. Show me what you got."
She feinted to the right and punched him in the jaw when he fell for it. He retaliated with a punch aimed at her nose, missing so completely that she expelled a short laugh. He growled at that and charged her but she shot to the side. She spun around and kicked him in the butt, making him fly a few yards in the air and fall on his face.
He managed to gain his feet before she could jump on his back. He spun around and caught her stomach with an instinctive kick. She fell back for a moment, the wind knocked out of her. He smiled smugly and beckoned her forward again. She didn't hesitate. She fell into a handspring and aimed her feet at his face. He saw her coming and dropped flat to the floor causing her to fly unheeded over his head. Her exercise mats cushioned her fall but she was still completely winded. Before she could regain her breath, Spike had straddled her waist, holding her arms down.
"Better?" he asked.
She didn't have to ask him to elaborate. She nodded.
"Can I let you up?"
She nodded again.
"On the other hand," he said, with a thoughtful look on his face, "I kinda like this. Got you right where I want you, s'matter of fact." He squeezed his thighs together slightly and pressed back onto her pelvis.
Her eyes clouded briefly with desire before she bucked up, trying to get him off. "Move, Spike."
"C'mon, Buffy. I'll make you forget my old poof of a sire."
Her struggling stopped. Tears glistened in her eyes as she remembered what started all this. She was too hurt to even take offense at Spike's callous comment. "Why, Spike? How could this happen?"
As soon as a tear slid down her face, Spike rolled off of her. He pulled her unstruggling form onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Cradled there as she was, she let the tears flow more freely. Sobs wracked her slender form as she buried her face in his shirt.
"There, now. Don't fret, luv. It'll be all right. Everything'll be just fine." He rubbed a hand lightly down her side. She cried for a long while and he murmured encouraging words to her the whole time. Eventually, she started to calm down and he could only hear the occasional sob escape, in amongst the hiccups.
She raised her tear-streaked face up and met his gaze. He glimpsed embarrassment there as she tried to pull herself from his lap. He held her tighter.
"No, pet. Let me do this for you."
"I can't, Spike." She spoke simply, without anger toward him. "If I let you now, I'll never be able to stop."
"And what's wrong with that? I'm not going anywhere."
Her eyes moistened again for a moment before she squared her shoulders. She said nothing.
He had seen the sheen in her gaze before she pushed it back. "What? You think I'll leave now, after everything you've done to push me away? Bugger that. I'm not leaving. When the bloody hell are you gonna realize that?" he asked, roughly grabbing her chin and turning her face up to meet his eyes. "I'm not him," he added, nodding toward the door. "And I'm not soldier boy, gonna leave on some grand adventure." He shook her slightly. "You're enough adventure for me, luv." He looked pleadingly down into her eyes.
She nodded in acceptance. That was it. She didn't try to pull out of his arms, didn't try to deny what he said. All she did was nod. And slump a little more against him, laying her head on his shoulder.
After a long moment of silence between them she said, "Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?" He tentatively stroked her hair back from her face as she looked up at him again. She looked so beautiful, even with her nose all red from crying.
"How could this have happened? Angel…he can't…he's a vampire!"
Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Couldn't really say. Never heard it happen before. It's right strange, at that." He thought a moment. "And who's the mum?"
Before she could respond to the question of all questions, the door opened. Angel stood there with a shocked expression on his face as he took in the comfy picture they made.
▪ ▪ ▪
TBC
He slipped into the training room, unnoticed by the others. He'd weighed his options—listen to the lot of them explain what was going on, or go to Buffy. Really, there hadn't been a choice. He clicked the door shut quietly behind him and just looked at her.
She was killing her punching bag. Right, left, right, left, kick, kick, left, left, right, kick, right, kick. She had heard the door click and paused only long enough to say, "Go away, Spike." Then she continued on the defenseless bag.
He stood there for a moment, watching her vent her frustrations. She had a neutral expression on her face, refusing to show emotion. Like the little announcement out there hadn't affected her at all. Like she didn't care. Like this was just normal training that was going to bring the bag down from the ceiling. But he knew better.
"Slayer."
She stopped punching, holding the bag still. "What? What do you want? Can't you just go away?" She rested her forehead against the bag, not looking at him.
He approached her, but she still wouldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the pity. Either pity, or gloating. Knowing Spike, it would most likely be the gloating.
When he stood close enough to touch, he said softly, "Look at me, Buffy."
"Go away."
"Slayer, look at me," he said, starting to sound annoyed.
She stubbornly kept her eyes on her feet, rubbing her head back and forth on the bag. "No."
He shoved her hard. She looked up in shock at him. "Why the hell did you do that?" she asked, rubbing her arm where he'd pushed.
He didn't answer. His eyes held a challenge. Before she could ask him again, he punched her. Completely unprepared, her head flew back and she stumbled. Her eyes narrowed angrily at him. So that's the way he wanted it? Fine.
Spike hid a smile when she assumed her fighter's stance. She'd get no satisfaction from hitting an inanimate object. If this was what she needed, he'd give it to her.
"Come on, Slayer. Show me what you got."
She feinted to the right and punched him in the jaw when he fell for it. He retaliated with a punch aimed at her nose, missing so completely that she expelled a short laugh. He growled at that and charged her but she shot to the side. She spun around and kicked him in the butt, making him fly a few yards in the air and fall on his face.
He managed to gain his feet before she could jump on his back. He spun around and caught her stomach with an instinctive kick. She fell back for a moment, the wind knocked out of her. He smiled smugly and beckoned her forward again. She didn't hesitate. She fell into a handspring and aimed her feet at his face. He saw her coming and dropped flat to the floor causing her to fly unheeded over his head. Her exercise mats cushioned her fall but she was still completely winded. Before she could regain her breath, Spike had straddled her waist, holding her arms down.
"Better?" he asked.
She didn't have to ask him to elaborate. She nodded.
"Can I let you up?"
She nodded again.
"On the other hand," he said, with a thoughtful look on his face, "I kinda like this. Got you right where I want you, s'matter of fact." He squeezed his thighs together slightly and pressed back onto her pelvis.
Her eyes clouded briefly with desire before she bucked up, trying to get him off. "Move, Spike."
"C'mon, Buffy. I'll make you forget my old poof of a sire."
Her struggling stopped. Tears glistened in her eyes as she remembered what started all this. She was too hurt to even take offense at Spike's callous comment. "Why, Spike? How could this happen?"
As soon as a tear slid down her face, Spike rolled off of her. He pulled her unstruggling form onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Cradled there as she was, she let the tears flow more freely. Sobs wracked her slender form as she buried her face in his shirt.
"There, now. Don't fret, luv. It'll be all right. Everything'll be just fine." He rubbed a hand lightly down her side. She cried for a long while and he murmured encouraging words to her the whole time. Eventually, she started to calm down and he could only hear the occasional sob escape, in amongst the hiccups.
She raised her tear-streaked face up and met his gaze. He glimpsed embarrassment there as she tried to pull herself from his lap. He held her tighter.
"No, pet. Let me do this for you."
"I can't, Spike." She spoke simply, without anger toward him. "If I let you now, I'll never be able to stop."
"And what's wrong with that? I'm not going anywhere."
Her eyes moistened again for a moment before she squared her shoulders. She said nothing.
He had seen the sheen in her gaze before she pushed it back. "What? You think I'll leave now, after everything you've done to push me away? Bugger that. I'm not leaving. When the bloody hell are you gonna realize that?" he asked, roughly grabbing her chin and turning her face up to meet his eyes. "I'm not him," he added, nodding toward the door. "And I'm not soldier boy, gonna leave on some grand adventure." He shook her slightly. "You're enough adventure for me, luv." He looked pleadingly down into her eyes.
She nodded in acceptance. That was it. She didn't try to pull out of his arms, didn't try to deny what he said. All she did was nod. And slump a little more against him, laying her head on his shoulder.
After a long moment of silence between them she said, "Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?" He tentatively stroked her hair back from her face as she looked up at him again. She looked so beautiful, even with her nose all red from crying.
"How could this have happened? Angel…he can't…he's a vampire!"
Spike shrugged his shoulders. "Couldn't really say. Never heard it happen before. It's right strange, at that." He thought a moment. "And who's the mum?"
Before she could respond to the question of all questions, the door opened. Angel stood there with a shocked expression on his face as he took in the comfy picture they made.
▪ ▪ ▪
TBC