Homecoming pt. 23
Buffy sat in her rock hewn hot tub, partially submerged in the natural spa. Leaning back, she was almost dozing when Spike entered the chamber. "Sleep well?" she asked.
"Better when you're with me," he replied. He leaned over the side of the basin and dipped his hand in the hot water. "So, what did ya do today, then?"
"I had a very busy day. I trained, for about five minutes. Bench pressed fifty pounds, which is nothing, but it still wore me out. Went out to the garden and read one of your poetry books. And yes, I wore sun screen. Came inside and had a nap, not that you noticed I was there, coma boy. Came in here and soaked. That's about it."
He narrowed his eyes. "Did you eat anything?"
"And I had lunch. Tuna sandwich. Don't worry."
"I get to worry." He traced circles in the water with his fingertip. "It's my job." He looked down at her nude body and nodded appreciatively. "You're puttin' on weight."
"That's what every girl wants to hear." She splashed water into his face.
"You know what I mean."
"I know." She looked at him, her large luminous eyes full of life. "I've been thinking."
"That's a switch," he grinned, as he was barraged with another splash.
"I'm serious. I've been thinking about your soul. It's so strange. I've been looking for some sort of difference, anything, but you're just you." She smiled at him. "Not that I'm complaining. It's you I love."
He smiled back. "To be honest, Buffy, I'm damned if I know. Or maybe I'm not, now. I know there's things I regret now. Things I'd never do again? Is that the soul? D'know"
She reached out and took his hand. "I've been thinking about Dawn, too. I'm going to call Social Services. See if I can arrange formal visits at her foster home. I know she can't stay here; they'd never agree to that. Besides, I think it's been good for her, being there."
"It won't be that long, 'for she's of age. Her room's all ready here, when she's able." He frowned. "Wish I could figure out how to get away with hookin' up a phone line. Maybe a cell?"
"Can't afford it. Not yet. Soon, I'll go find another job. Something without the involvement of grease." She sighed. "Meanwhile, hot tub. Join me?"
"How long you been in there?"
"About a half hour. Why?"
"Long enough." He bent over to pick her up out of the tub, stood her on the side, and dried her off with a fluffy towel.
"You're getting all wet." She pulled his head down, whispering in his ear, "So am I."
He pulled back. "Don't rush it, Buffy. I want you to be well again. Don't forget, you died a week ago. Your heart had stopped."
"Yep. Good thing I wasn't playing baseball." She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm much better now. I figure in a week I'll be back to slaying. Lucky I live so close to the office." She lifted her head and kissed him, deeply. "Take me to bed."
He picked her up in his arms and carried her down the tunnel to their bedroom. Gently, he lay her down on the sheets. "You're sure?" he asked.
"I won't break." She pulled at the hem of his damp t-shirt, lifting it up over his chest. He tugged it off the rest of the way.
Divested of all garments, he climbed under the comforter, holding her, skin to skin. "I love you, Buffy. I'll never leave you again."
"You'd better not." She brushed her forefinger across his lips. "Do you think, now that I'm better, we'll start fighting again?"
He cocked his head. "Do you want to?"
"Sometimes. Maybe. Not tonight." More gently than their bedchamber had ever seen, they made love. After, as she lay wrapped around him, she whispered, "Now I feel like this is home."
"Me too," he replied. "Home is in your arms."
THE END
Buffy sat in her rock hewn hot tub, partially submerged in the natural spa. Leaning back, she was almost dozing when Spike entered the chamber. "Sleep well?" she asked.
"Better when you're with me," he replied. He leaned over the side of the basin and dipped his hand in the hot water. "So, what did ya do today, then?"
"I had a very busy day. I trained, for about five minutes. Bench pressed fifty pounds, which is nothing, but it still wore me out. Went out to the garden and read one of your poetry books. And yes, I wore sun screen. Came inside and had a nap, not that you noticed I was there, coma boy. Came in here and soaked. That's about it."
He narrowed his eyes. "Did you eat anything?"
"And I had lunch. Tuna sandwich. Don't worry."
"I get to worry." He traced circles in the water with his fingertip. "It's my job." He looked down at her nude body and nodded appreciatively. "You're puttin' on weight."
"That's what every girl wants to hear." She splashed water into his face.
"You know what I mean."
"I know." She looked at him, her large luminous eyes full of life. "I've been thinking."
"That's a switch," he grinned, as he was barraged with another splash.
"I'm serious. I've been thinking about your soul. It's so strange. I've been looking for some sort of difference, anything, but you're just you." She smiled at him. "Not that I'm complaining. It's you I love."
He smiled back. "To be honest, Buffy, I'm damned if I know. Or maybe I'm not, now. I know there's things I regret now. Things I'd never do again? Is that the soul? D'know"
She reached out and took his hand. "I've been thinking about Dawn, too. I'm going to call Social Services. See if I can arrange formal visits at her foster home. I know she can't stay here; they'd never agree to that. Besides, I think it's been good for her, being there."
"It won't be that long, 'for she's of age. Her room's all ready here, when she's able." He frowned. "Wish I could figure out how to get away with hookin' up a phone line. Maybe a cell?"
"Can't afford it. Not yet. Soon, I'll go find another job. Something without the involvement of grease." She sighed. "Meanwhile, hot tub. Join me?"
"How long you been in there?"
"About a half hour. Why?"
"Long enough." He bent over to pick her up out of the tub, stood her on the side, and dried her off with a fluffy towel.
"You're getting all wet." She pulled his head down, whispering in his ear, "So am I."
He pulled back. "Don't rush it, Buffy. I want you to be well again. Don't forget, you died a week ago. Your heart had stopped."
"Yep. Good thing I wasn't playing baseball." She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm much better now. I figure in a week I'll be back to slaying. Lucky I live so close to the office." She lifted her head and kissed him, deeply. "Take me to bed."
He picked her up in his arms and carried her down the tunnel to their bedroom. Gently, he lay her down on the sheets. "You're sure?" he asked.
"I won't break." She pulled at the hem of his damp t-shirt, lifting it up over his chest. He tugged it off the rest of the way.
Divested of all garments, he climbed under the comforter, holding her, skin to skin. "I love you, Buffy. I'll never leave you again."
"You'd better not." She brushed her forefinger across his lips. "Do you think, now that I'm better, we'll start fighting again?"
He cocked his head. "Do you want to?"
"Sometimes. Maybe. Not tonight." More gently than their bedchamber had ever seen, they made love. After, as she lay wrapped around him, she whispered, "Now I feel like this is home."
"Me too," he replied. "Home is in your arms."
THE END