She gazed regretfully at Spike's sleeping form. 'I really should be
going…' she thought as her eyes took in the soft, ruffled hair, the rather
sweet, almost innocent smile. She didn't want to go.
He'd made love to her for the first time. Oh, they'd had sex before. Many times. But she knew the difference now. It was – as though he'd wanted to reward her for having seen the real person he was. Not just the cynical, taunting guy she could use at will, but the shy, sensitive, caring man … that she'd fallen in love with. No, that was wrong. She'd loved the cynic. But it was seeing the sensitive side of him that had made her realise it. She wondered how long she'd been trying to deny to herself that she loved him. All of what he was as Spike. William. There was no divide any more. She loved him for what he was.
Still, it was late – she should be getting home.
She sighed, and moved, trying not to wake him. But even as he slept he was aware of the movement and wrapped himself around her, murmuring her name.
He was dreaming of her! She smiled slightly, touched, and pulled the cover round them. 'Looked as though she'd have to stay after all, she was so closely intertwined with him.' She was glad of having the excuse to stay – she'd been so tempted to anyway. And she could hardly go now, could she?
He was purring. She smiled again. 'Obviously a good dream…' she thought. At least he didn't snore. 'Well, vampires don't, they don't breathe…' But she rather liked the purring, so quiet it was almost imperceptible – 'like a kitten,' she thought. 'Better than Riley's snoring…'
She nestled into his arms, content just to be. She felt safe, warm and comfortable in her lover's arms. The rest of the world just didn't matter any more. This was what she wanted, to be lying here in his arms. Nothing else mattered…
It was Spike moving his head to look at her when he awoke that disturbed her sleep. He smiled, still half asleep himself.
"Still here? I thought you'd have gone home."
She cuddled closer to him. "No. You were all curled round me, and I didn't want to wake you by moving. And anyway, I was happy where I was."
"Still happy now?" he asked, stroking her hair.
"Mm…" She closed her eyes. How she loved him!
He laid his head back down on the pillow, content just to hold her. It was good to feel the warmth of her body next to him, to know she was happy to be there. Knowing that she cared, at least a little. He'd settle for that. But he knew he was her friend, and that meant a lot. Her friend, and her lover. Not just the guy she slept with when she felt like it.
A small black ball of fur landed on him. He groaned. Buffy looked up, half puzzled, half amused.
"Yours? I didn't know you liked cats…"
He looked abashed. "Uh – well – just found the little thing by its mother in the woods. Rest of the litter was dead, so was the mother. Felt sorry for her…"
"What's she called?" she asked, holding out her finger to the kitten.
"Well – I just call her Kitty."
"Very original!" she commented. Then laughed.
"What?"
"Just remembering parent teacher night. Remember? When you attacked the school." 'Which had actually stopped her from being grounded. And his impatience, not waiting for St. Thingy's night, had probably saved her life, too…'
"Why?"
" 'Sla-yerr … here, kitty, kitty,'" she mimicked him. "Remember?"
He rolled his eyes. "Women! Trust you to remember that!"
"I was hardly likely to forget!" she teased. "So, was it deliberate, or just lack of originality?"
He debated what to say for a moment, then opted for the truth. "Lack of originality," he admitted.
"Cute little thing," she commented as the kitten sniffed her finger. "But what do you feed her on? Not blood, I hope?"
"Hardly. Dawn brought some milk for when she comes round here … and she brought some other stuff…"
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "She never mentioned it!"
"No, well, thing is," he stuttered. "Um – didn't want anyone to know. Y'know, doesn't fit the image … vampire takes in stray kitten…"
"Well, neither does, 'vampire sleeps with slayer' or 'vampire babysits slayer's kid sister' or 'vampire helps slayer to kill demons' or…"
"Point taken. But really, stray kitten?"
"It's cute!"
"Precisely. Vampires don't do cute."
"You're cute."
"I'm…" he stopped, realising what she'd said. "I'm cute? In what way?" he asked suspiciously.
"Smart and good-looking," she said, adding mentally, 'and adorable'.
"Oh!" he was relieved. He was a vampire, after all. He had a reputation to keep up…
Not that he cared much about his reputation while she was lying there in his arms.
Kitty started mewing. "Wants some milk," he explained, regretfully getting out of bed. He returned once the kitten had been fed, and curled up with Buffy again, who was watching the kitten.
"I think you're more interested in Kitty than in me," he said, pretending to be upset. She looked up at him quickly and smiled.
"Being interested in a pet is a compliment to the owner," she replied.
"I'm beginning to think she owns me," he said ruefully.
"Cats are like that," she said comfortingly. "Anyway, it must be nice to have her around."
"Mm. And Dawn loves playing with her…"
"You and Dawn!" she laughed. "You really are like brother and sister … apart from the age difference, of course."
"Mm." A thought struck him. "Will she be okay? You know, on her own?"
"Not on her own. Willow's there with her."
"They won't worry about where you are?"
She smiled. "No, I told them where I'd be…"
"Oh – so you were intending to come round here anyway?" he teased.
"Well, I had a suspicion I'd run into you on patrol."
"And suspected I'd pounce on you and drag you back to my crypt?"
She smiled again. "Well, I was right, wasn't I?" she said sweetly.
"Lack of originality strikes again!" he said, with a self-ironising curl of the lip.
"Well, nobody else has tried it. Most vampires just try to kill me."
He chuckled. "Something I'd never do!"
She batted him gently on the arm. "I should hope not!"
He looked tenderly at her for an instant. "Well, not any more, anyway," he said softly.
She nestled closer to him. "That's a relief…"
"I could never have killed you."
She looked up at him, surprised. "Why?"
"Too clever. Too resourceful. Always finding a way out…"
'Time for an admission,' she thought. "I could never have killed you, either." 'It had to be said.' "You were too strong."
He kissed her on the forehead. "Equally matched. Well, you know what they say. If you can't beat'em, join'em."
"So you end up sleeping with the enemy?!" she teased.
"That's mixing metaphors!" he reproved. "Anyway, you're not the enemy any more."
"Always good to know. Given the choice, I'd rather be on your side in a fight."
"Flattered! But you killed the Master … he was stronger than me, surely…"
She considered. "Physically, maybe. Harder to kill. But – you'd already killed two slayers. Angel thought you'd be harder to beat too, because you didn't give up when you started something. The way you spoke to me, you were so sure you'd kill me, it almost convinced me that you would, and – you looked so normal. I mean, the master was ugly. But you – I don't know, there was something that made me feel threatened. I was afraid of you. Not of being killed by you, as I was by the Master. I was afraid of you."
"You're not now, though, are you?" he said, alarmed.
"No. Not now. Not any more." 'Could she say that part of her fear of him was his attractiveness? That part of her had felt somehow drawn to him, even though she'd feared him? That part of her would have let his teeth sink into her neck, would have let him draw the life from her…? Maybe some other time…'
"Good. I don't want you to be afraid of me…" his fingers caressed the back of her neck gently, winding in her hair. I'll never hurt you – never leave you … unless you drive me away, of course. But then, you'd only have to crook your finger and I'd come running.."
She knew he meant it, and it comforted her. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to leave, that being with him felt so right, but he began talking again.
"I noticed even then how beautiful you were…"
'Bet Drusilla was pleased,' she thought. 'No, he wouldn't have told Dru.'
"And I noticed how well you fought. Better than the other two. I knew it would be a close thing, if we fought…" He shook his head as if to dispel the memory. "Ah, well. All in the past now."
"Mm. Glad of it."
"So am I. You hungry?"
"Starving."
"Well, then, let's have some breakfast." Buffy sat up as if to get out of bed. "No, stay there…" He disappeared off to the fridge.
She was sprawled on her front, eyes closed, when he came back. Hearing the chink of glasses, however, her eyes flew open. "What…?" she began. He grinned amiably back.
"You should keep a tighter rein on that sister of yours, you know. She told me you might pop round to see me, so I laid in some supplies…"
She raised an eyebrow. "Champagne and strawberries? On the off- chance? What else did she say?" 'Had Dawn told him?'
"Just that she thought you might appreciate it. It was her idea," he said modestly.
"So you went along with it … you really are wrapped round her little finger!" she said, relieved. Dawn hadn't blabbed. She'd have hugged her sister if she'd been there.
'Certainly made breakfast an interesting affair…' she thought, as Spike fed her strawberries. 'Way more fun than eating toast or cereal or something.' She was enjoying it – being pampered, breakfast in bed … feeding Spike the occasional strawberry. 'She didn't really have much fun, being the slayer. Not really a fun job. It made a nice change.'
Spike refilled her glass.
"Trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me?" she teased.
"Oh, I don't need to get you drunk for that," he whispered suggestively in her ear, holding out the last strawberry to her.
"No, you have it."
"Share it?" She nodded, expecting him to bite it in half. But instead, he held it between his teeth and raised an eyebrow…
'Nice way of sharing…' she thought as her lips touched his. She ate her half strawberry as Spike licked the strawberry juice off her fingers.
"D'you have to go to work today?" he asked, a single finger tracing her collarbone. She shook her head.
"No, they still think I'm recovering with my ankle."
"Good… Anything planned?"
"No. Not yet."
"Even better."
"Why? Do you have anything planned?" she asked teasingly.
"Oh, I don't plan," he replied, kissing her.
When he eventually lifted her mouth from his, she asked, "What do you usually do during the day?"
"Sleep, for some of it. But I've only just woken up, so I'll sleep later… Then, sometimes, I watch the telly. Write…" he glossed over the poetry. "Play solitaire, or other games … maybe I could teach you some…?" She giggled. "Do you play chess?" he inquired innocently. She rolled her eyes.
"My dad tried to teach me, once, a long time ago. I don't really remember how to play."
He smiled. "How about I teach you?"
She found she was actually good at the game once she'd got the hang of it. She was used to thinking tactically, and it helped her understand the game. She won time and again.
It didn't seem to bother him, and he hummed as he made her lunch. 'Dawn was going to have a lot to answer for…' she thought. But it had been a pleasant morning – lazing in bed, a leisurely breakfast, more – lazing, playing chess, playing with Kitty. She was now firm friends with the kitten after hand-feeding it some tuna. She felt absolutely free of worries and responsibilities, and she was revelling in it, determined to enjoy it while she could.
Lunch surprised her as much as breakfast had done. Spike – or Dawn, whichever was the culprit – had gone to a lot of trouble to provide a delicious lunch, with some of her favourite foods. She made no objection as Spike sipped a mug of blood while she ate, occasionally thieving from her plate.
"Why don't you have some of your own?" she teased, trying to defend her last slice of cucumber. "I know there's more in the fridge…"
"More fun this way!" he said, as she hastily consumed the rest of her meal.
She wondered if she should go. It was obvious that he and Dawn had planned this, though, and she was curious to find out what else was planned. However, the champagne and the large midday meal were conspiring to make her sleepy, and she found herself whisked back into bed.
"Spike…" she said as he covered her over.
"Mm?"
"Why don't you join me? You said you wanted to sleep…"
He hesitated a moment, then slid into bed beside her, though he didn't really feel like sleeping. "Can't bear to sleep alone?" he teased as he wrapped his arms round her.
"Just like knowing you're there," she replied.
She liked it – the feel of his arm, cool against her warm skin, her cheek resting against his shoulder, his strength encompassing her. She felt totally relaxed, and happier than she'd been for a long time. She wondered if it was possible to die of happiness. If it was, she was a prime candidate.
He started singing, softly. A lullaby, the Sandman's song:
"I shut the children's peepers, sh!
And guard the little sleepers, sh!
For dearly do I love them, sh!
And gladly watch above them, sh!"
She remembered her father singing it to her when she was younger, how it had always made her feel safe, as though the sandman really was guarding her. Her eyes started to close…
"Then slumber, slumber, children, slumber,
For happy dreams are sent you thro' the hours you sleep!"
The song ended, she was almost asleep. He only just caught the barely audible words she murmured drowsily as she drifted off to sleep. Words that seared through him, spreading their warmth. Words that would echo in his heart and mind for eternity. Words that made tears of happiness flow down his cheeks. Words that, in any other circumstances, to anyone else, might have meant so little. Words that he knew she meant. Four simple words, murmured on the brink of sleep, that would change everything:
"I love you, Spike…"
He'd made love to her for the first time. Oh, they'd had sex before. Many times. But she knew the difference now. It was – as though he'd wanted to reward her for having seen the real person he was. Not just the cynical, taunting guy she could use at will, but the shy, sensitive, caring man … that she'd fallen in love with. No, that was wrong. She'd loved the cynic. But it was seeing the sensitive side of him that had made her realise it. She wondered how long she'd been trying to deny to herself that she loved him. All of what he was as Spike. William. There was no divide any more. She loved him for what he was.
Still, it was late – she should be getting home.
She sighed, and moved, trying not to wake him. But even as he slept he was aware of the movement and wrapped himself around her, murmuring her name.
He was dreaming of her! She smiled slightly, touched, and pulled the cover round them. 'Looked as though she'd have to stay after all, she was so closely intertwined with him.' She was glad of having the excuse to stay – she'd been so tempted to anyway. And she could hardly go now, could she?
He was purring. She smiled again. 'Obviously a good dream…' she thought. At least he didn't snore. 'Well, vampires don't, they don't breathe…' But she rather liked the purring, so quiet it was almost imperceptible – 'like a kitten,' she thought. 'Better than Riley's snoring…'
She nestled into his arms, content just to be. She felt safe, warm and comfortable in her lover's arms. The rest of the world just didn't matter any more. This was what she wanted, to be lying here in his arms. Nothing else mattered…
It was Spike moving his head to look at her when he awoke that disturbed her sleep. He smiled, still half asleep himself.
"Still here? I thought you'd have gone home."
She cuddled closer to him. "No. You were all curled round me, and I didn't want to wake you by moving. And anyway, I was happy where I was."
"Still happy now?" he asked, stroking her hair.
"Mm…" She closed her eyes. How she loved him!
He laid his head back down on the pillow, content just to hold her. It was good to feel the warmth of her body next to him, to know she was happy to be there. Knowing that she cared, at least a little. He'd settle for that. But he knew he was her friend, and that meant a lot. Her friend, and her lover. Not just the guy she slept with when she felt like it.
A small black ball of fur landed on him. He groaned. Buffy looked up, half puzzled, half amused.
"Yours? I didn't know you liked cats…"
He looked abashed. "Uh – well – just found the little thing by its mother in the woods. Rest of the litter was dead, so was the mother. Felt sorry for her…"
"What's she called?" she asked, holding out her finger to the kitten.
"Well – I just call her Kitty."
"Very original!" she commented. Then laughed.
"What?"
"Just remembering parent teacher night. Remember? When you attacked the school." 'Which had actually stopped her from being grounded. And his impatience, not waiting for St. Thingy's night, had probably saved her life, too…'
"Why?"
" 'Sla-yerr … here, kitty, kitty,'" she mimicked him. "Remember?"
He rolled his eyes. "Women! Trust you to remember that!"
"I was hardly likely to forget!" she teased. "So, was it deliberate, or just lack of originality?"
He debated what to say for a moment, then opted for the truth. "Lack of originality," he admitted.
"Cute little thing," she commented as the kitten sniffed her finger. "But what do you feed her on? Not blood, I hope?"
"Hardly. Dawn brought some milk for when she comes round here … and she brought some other stuff…"
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "She never mentioned it!"
"No, well, thing is," he stuttered. "Um – didn't want anyone to know. Y'know, doesn't fit the image … vampire takes in stray kitten…"
"Well, neither does, 'vampire sleeps with slayer' or 'vampire babysits slayer's kid sister' or 'vampire helps slayer to kill demons' or…"
"Point taken. But really, stray kitten?"
"It's cute!"
"Precisely. Vampires don't do cute."
"You're cute."
"I'm…" he stopped, realising what she'd said. "I'm cute? In what way?" he asked suspiciously.
"Smart and good-looking," she said, adding mentally, 'and adorable'.
"Oh!" he was relieved. He was a vampire, after all. He had a reputation to keep up…
Not that he cared much about his reputation while she was lying there in his arms.
Kitty started mewing. "Wants some milk," he explained, regretfully getting out of bed. He returned once the kitten had been fed, and curled up with Buffy again, who was watching the kitten.
"I think you're more interested in Kitty than in me," he said, pretending to be upset. She looked up at him quickly and smiled.
"Being interested in a pet is a compliment to the owner," she replied.
"I'm beginning to think she owns me," he said ruefully.
"Cats are like that," she said comfortingly. "Anyway, it must be nice to have her around."
"Mm. And Dawn loves playing with her…"
"You and Dawn!" she laughed. "You really are like brother and sister … apart from the age difference, of course."
"Mm." A thought struck him. "Will she be okay? You know, on her own?"
"Not on her own. Willow's there with her."
"They won't worry about where you are?"
She smiled. "No, I told them where I'd be…"
"Oh – so you were intending to come round here anyway?" he teased.
"Well, I had a suspicion I'd run into you on patrol."
"And suspected I'd pounce on you and drag you back to my crypt?"
She smiled again. "Well, I was right, wasn't I?" she said sweetly.
"Lack of originality strikes again!" he said, with a self-ironising curl of the lip.
"Well, nobody else has tried it. Most vampires just try to kill me."
He chuckled. "Something I'd never do!"
She batted him gently on the arm. "I should hope not!"
He looked tenderly at her for an instant. "Well, not any more, anyway," he said softly.
She nestled closer to him. "That's a relief…"
"I could never have killed you."
She looked up at him, surprised. "Why?"
"Too clever. Too resourceful. Always finding a way out…"
'Time for an admission,' she thought. "I could never have killed you, either." 'It had to be said.' "You were too strong."
He kissed her on the forehead. "Equally matched. Well, you know what they say. If you can't beat'em, join'em."
"So you end up sleeping with the enemy?!" she teased.
"That's mixing metaphors!" he reproved. "Anyway, you're not the enemy any more."
"Always good to know. Given the choice, I'd rather be on your side in a fight."
"Flattered! But you killed the Master … he was stronger than me, surely…"
She considered. "Physically, maybe. Harder to kill. But – you'd already killed two slayers. Angel thought you'd be harder to beat too, because you didn't give up when you started something. The way you spoke to me, you were so sure you'd kill me, it almost convinced me that you would, and – you looked so normal. I mean, the master was ugly. But you – I don't know, there was something that made me feel threatened. I was afraid of you. Not of being killed by you, as I was by the Master. I was afraid of you."
"You're not now, though, are you?" he said, alarmed.
"No. Not now. Not any more." 'Could she say that part of her fear of him was his attractiveness? That part of her had felt somehow drawn to him, even though she'd feared him? That part of her would have let his teeth sink into her neck, would have let him draw the life from her…? Maybe some other time…'
"Good. I don't want you to be afraid of me…" his fingers caressed the back of her neck gently, winding in her hair. I'll never hurt you – never leave you … unless you drive me away, of course. But then, you'd only have to crook your finger and I'd come running.."
She knew he meant it, and it comforted her. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want him to leave, that being with him felt so right, but he began talking again.
"I noticed even then how beautiful you were…"
'Bet Drusilla was pleased,' she thought. 'No, he wouldn't have told Dru.'
"And I noticed how well you fought. Better than the other two. I knew it would be a close thing, if we fought…" He shook his head as if to dispel the memory. "Ah, well. All in the past now."
"Mm. Glad of it."
"So am I. You hungry?"
"Starving."
"Well, then, let's have some breakfast." Buffy sat up as if to get out of bed. "No, stay there…" He disappeared off to the fridge.
She was sprawled on her front, eyes closed, when he came back. Hearing the chink of glasses, however, her eyes flew open. "What…?" she began. He grinned amiably back.
"You should keep a tighter rein on that sister of yours, you know. She told me you might pop round to see me, so I laid in some supplies…"
She raised an eyebrow. "Champagne and strawberries? On the off- chance? What else did she say?" 'Had Dawn told him?'
"Just that she thought you might appreciate it. It was her idea," he said modestly.
"So you went along with it … you really are wrapped round her little finger!" she said, relieved. Dawn hadn't blabbed. She'd have hugged her sister if she'd been there.
'Certainly made breakfast an interesting affair…' she thought, as Spike fed her strawberries. 'Way more fun than eating toast or cereal or something.' She was enjoying it – being pampered, breakfast in bed … feeding Spike the occasional strawberry. 'She didn't really have much fun, being the slayer. Not really a fun job. It made a nice change.'
Spike refilled her glass.
"Trying to get me drunk so you can seduce me?" she teased.
"Oh, I don't need to get you drunk for that," he whispered suggestively in her ear, holding out the last strawberry to her.
"No, you have it."
"Share it?" She nodded, expecting him to bite it in half. But instead, he held it between his teeth and raised an eyebrow…
'Nice way of sharing…' she thought as her lips touched his. She ate her half strawberry as Spike licked the strawberry juice off her fingers.
"D'you have to go to work today?" he asked, a single finger tracing her collarbone. She shook her head.
"No, they still think I'm recovering with my ankle."
"Good… Anything planned?"
"No. Not yet."
"Even better."
"Why? Do you have anything planned?" she asked teasingly.
"Oh, I don't plan," he replied, kissing her.
When he eventually lifted her mouth from his, she asked, "What do you usually do during the day?"
"Sleep, for some of it. But I've only just woken up, so I'll sleep later… Then, sometimes, I watch the telly. Write…" he glossed over the poetry. "Play solitaire, or other games … maybe I could teach you some…?" She giggled. "Do you play chess?" he inquired innocently. She rolled her eyes.
"My dad tried to teach me, once, a long time ago. I don't really remember how to play."
He smiled. "How about I teach you?"
She found she was actually good at the game once she'd got the hang of it. She was used to thinking tactically, and it helped her understand the game. She won time and again.
It didn't seem to bother him, and he hummed as he made her lunch. 'Dawn was going to have a lot to answer for…' she thought. But it had been a pleasant morning – lazing in bed, a leisurely breakfast, more – lazing, playing chess, playing with Kitty. She was now firm friends with the kitten after hand-feeding it some tuna. She felt absolutely free of worries and responsibilities, and she was revelling in it, determined to enjoy it while she could.
Lunch surprised her as much as breakfast had done. Spike – or Dawn, whichever was the culprit – had gone to a lot of trouble to provide a delicious lunch, with some of her favourite foods. She made no objection as Spike sipped a mug of blood while she ate, occasionally thieving from her plate.
"Why don't you have some of your own?" she teased, trying to defend her last slice of cucumber. "I know there's more in the fridge…"
"More fun this way!" he said, as she hastily consumed the rest of her meal.
She wondered if she should go. It was obvious that he and Dawn had planned this, though, and she was curious to find out what else was planned. However, the champagne and the large midday meal were conspiring to make her sleepy, and she found herself whisked back into bed.
"Spike…" she said as he covered her over.
"Mm?"
"Why don't you join me? You said you wanted to sleep…"
He hesitated a moment, then slid into bed beside her, though he didn't really feel like sleeping. "Can't bear to sleep alone?" he teased as he wrapped his arms round her.
"Just like knowing you're there," she replied.
She liked it – the feel of his arm, cool against her warm skin, her cheek resting against his shoulder, his strength encompassing her. She felt totally relaxed, and happier than she'd been for a long time. She wondered if it was possible to die of happiness. If it was, she was a prime candidate.
He started singing, softly. A lullaby, the Sandman's song:
"I shut the children's peepers, sh!
And guard the little sleepers, sh!
For dearly do I love them, sh!
And gladly watch above them, sh!"
She remembered her father singing it to her when she was younger, how it had always made her feel safe, as though the sandman really was guarding her. Her eyes started to close…
"Then slumber, slumber, children, slumber,
For happy dreams are sent you thro' the hours you sleep!"
The song ended, she was almost asleep. He only just caught the barely audible words she murmured drowsily as she drifted off to sleep. Words that seared through him, spreading their warmth. Words that would echo in his heart and mind for eternity. Words that made tears of happiness flow down his cheeks. Words that, in any other circumstances, to anyone else, might have meant so little. Words that he knew she meant. Four simple words, murmured on the brink of sleep, that would change everything:
"I love you, Spike…"