2007
Slipping into the house as silently as possible, I keep my ears perked for any sign that Spike is awake. Only the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the air conditioner fills my mind as I slip off my winter coat and pumps, groaning at the dull ache in my ankles and joints that I now know comes from more than just slaying and wearing heels. Quietly padding up the stairs in my now bare feet, I use the handrail to prevent my footfalls from being too loud. After all, Spike has his acute vampire hearing.
I usually try not to wake him during the day, so he is fresh for demon slayage with me at night. Sometimes, if I'm feeling feisty, I will pounce on his prone form and startle him out of his dreams. If he is really far- gone to reality, he switches immediately to his vampire face, complete with fangs and ridges that he patiently lets me explore with all the tingling nerves in my fingertips and lips.
Today, after the news I received, I just want to be near him, snuggled up in the cool comfort of his arms.
I approach our bed cautiously, my senses on hyper-alert for the slightest hint of movement. In the darkness, he lies unmoving on his side with one hand tucked underneath the pillow, and his face is the picture of peace that comes in a boneless sleep. My scalp tickles a little in the nearness of his presence, and in slow motion, I lift the sheets, feeling the rolling air drafts that roll past me before I slide dress and all into the place where my whole world rests. I ease my back and hips against his chest, wiggling my hips slightly to find our familiar comfortable position. In his sleep, his free arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him as I inhale his scent and making me wish for a moment that he were awake.
My wish comes true.
"Kitten?" His voice is hoarse and low from disuse, and the breath from his speech laves over my earlobe, sending goose bumps flying across my skin.
I don't feel like talking about what happened just yet. "Ummm."
"What did the doc say?"
Twisting in his embrace, I face him with a shy smile and peer into his eyes from wide lids. "I love you."
"Love you, too, pet," he returns, kissing the tip of my nose. "But you didn't answer my question."
He knows me too well.how I like to avoid telling him things that scare me. He has always been patient and persistent with me. That's one of the characteristics I love most about him.
"Can we talk about it later, and," I run a finger down his chest seductively, "do other things now?"
He grabs my hand with his free one. "No," he insists. He can tell something is wrong.
Tears brim over my lashes and spill in hot trails over my cheeks. His fingers immediately are there, wiping away the liquid that is stinging my face. His lips sweep over my skin, which only makes me cry harder.
He sighs softly, "Please tell me, love. I want to know, so I can help."
I bury my head in his chest so that my voice is muffled. The truth sound better that way. "Leukemia. A-adult lymphocytic leukemia. I-I have a pamphlet d-downstairs."
Stroking his hand down the length of my spine, he lets me sob openly.
After several minutes, he finally asks, "W-what does that mean?"
"I'm dying."
"Are they sure? I mean, the docs? How do they know you're dying?" His tone is desperate for a small hope.
"I'm too far along. And with my body producing more white blood cells than most people because I'm a slayer, the growth of the damaged white blood cells is more rapid. Hence, there's nothing they can do."
Tears fall unbidden down his cheeks. Reaching up to cup his face in my palm, I smile in the realization that I love how he can display his rawest emotions with me. He's the first person I've ever known who feels so deeply and isn't afraid of his feelings.
He scowls suddenly and pushes away slightly. "Stop smiling. There's nothing to bloody smile about. I'm losing you all over again."
"Damn slayer healing powers. Never thought I'd be saying that one," I jest mildly, trying to soothe him in my own fashion. "And you haven't lost me, yet. I'm still here. Not going anywhere. I love you."
His muscles stiffen as his mind wars with the swirl of emotions that are painted in his eyes. In one motion, he leaves my side and our bed, causing me to gape at him in shock. "I gotta go. I gotta have some time to process this."
He pulls on a pair of jeans and is striding toward the door as I call after him, "It's sunny outside, Spike."
"I'll be all right," his voice echoes back to me.
TBC.
Slipping into the house as silently as possible, I keep my ears perked for any sign that Spike is awake. Only the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the air conditioner fills my mind as I slip off my winter coat and pumps, groaning at the dull ache in my ankles and joints that I now know comes from more than just slaying and wearing heels. Quietly padding up the stairs in my now bare feet, I use the handrail to prevent my footfalls from being too loud. After all, Spike has his acute vampire hearing.
I usually try not to wake him during the day, so he is fresh for demon slayage with me at night. Sometimes, if I'm feeling feisty, I will pounce on his prone form and startle him out of his dreams. If he is really far- gone to reality, he switches immediately to his vampire face, complete with fangs and ridges that he patiently lets me explore with all the tingling nerves in my fingertips and lips.
Today, after the news I received, I just want to be near him, snuggled up in the cool comfort of his arms.
I approach our bed cautiously, my senses on hyper-alert for the slightest hint of movement. In the darkness, he lies unmoving on his side with one hand tucked underneath the pillow, and his face is the picture of peace that comes in a boneless sleep. My scalp tickles a little in the nearness of his presence, and in slow motion, I lift the sheets, feeling the rolling air drafts that roll past me before I slide dress and all into the place where my whole world rests. I ease my back and hips against his chest, wiggling my hips slightly to find our familiar comfortable position. In his sleep, his free arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him as I inhale his scent and making me wish for a moment that he were awake.
My wish comes true.
"Kitten?" His voice is hoarse and low from disuse, and the breath from his speech laves over my earlobe, sending goose bumps flying across my skin.
I don't feel like talking about what happened just yet. "Ummm."
"What did the doc say?"
Twisting in his embrace, I face him with a shy smile and peer into his eyes from wide lids. "I love you."
"Love you, too, pet," he returns, kissing the tip of my nose. "But you didn't answer my question."
He knows me too well.how I like to avoid telling him things that scare me. He has always been patient and persistent with me. That's one of the characteristics I love most about him.
"Can we talk about it later, and," I run a finger down his chest seductively, "do other things now?"
He grabs my hand with his free one. "No," he insists. He can tell something is wrong.
Tears brim over my lashes and spill in hot trails over my cheeks. His fingers immediately are there, wiping away the liquid that is stinging my face. His lips sweep over my skin, which only makes me cry harder.
He sighs softly, "Please tell me, love. I want to know, so I can help."
I bury my head in his chest so that my voice is muffled. The truth sound better that way. "Leukemia. A-adult lymphocytic leukemia. I-I have a pamphlet d-downstairs."
Stroking his hand down the length of my spine, he lets me sob openly.
After several minutes, he finally asks, "W-what does that mean?"
"I'm dying."
"Are they sure? I mean, the docs? How do they know you're dying?" His tone is desperate for a small hope.
"I'm too far along. And with my body producing more white blood cells than most people because I'm a slayer, the growth of the damaged white blood cells is more rapid. Hence, there's nothing they can do."
Tears fall unbidden down his cheeks. Reaching up to cup his face in my palm, I smile in the realization that I love how he can display his rawest emotions with me. He's the first person I've ever known who feels so deeply and isn't afraid of his feelings.
He scowls suddenly and pushes away slightly. "Stop smiling. There's nothing to bloody smile about. I'm losing you all over again."
"Damn slayer healing powers. Never thought I'd be saying that one," I jest mildly, trying to soothe him in my own fashion. "And you haven't lost me, yet. I'm still here. Not going anywhere. I love you."
His muscles stiffen as his mind wars with the swirl of emotions that are painted in his eyes. In one motion, he leaves my side and our bed, causing me to gape at him in shock. "I gotta go. I gotta have some time to process this."
He pulls on a pair of jeans and is striding toward the door as I call after him, "It's sunny outside, Spike."
"I'll be all right," his voice echoes back to me.
TBC.