CHAPTER 5 - COMFORT
On his way down to the basement, Spike looked around, and not seeing anybody in the kitchen, he put the object he'd been looking for in his pocket and continued downstairs.
Spike took a good look around the basement, making sure nobody else was there. He then took the object out of his pocket, "Bloody stupid things," he said as he flipped open the cell phone and dialed the number. "Clem? Spike here...yeah, I'm alright, hey listen, there's something I want you to do for me..."
It would be at least 6 or 7 hours before he could do what he was planning; if she wanted to; if she trusted him.
"Do you trust me?" he'd asked her last year, showing her handcuffs for their fun and games. "Never," she'd replied. Hadn't been just about that. Been about everything.
Trust.
He sighed, restless. Nothing for him to do except rest until then, he thought as he closed his eyes.
Upstairs, Buffy was barely listening as Giles went on about the situation with the girls. On and on and on. She felt like she was drowning in it all. She was dizzy and she was starting to remember some things from last night. One thing she knew for certain: it hadn't been Faryl demons that had attacked her, more likely just a couple of vampires. She remembered walking near Spike's old crypt, then nothing else until she was being carried home by Spike. She realized that she had been extremely careless and had nearly paid the ultimate price. Again.
She was off her game; that was for sure. Spike was off his game, too. At least, not so much last night. How were they going to fight The First like this?
She knew she should care, that she should be training, but all she wanted right now was to go to Spike, talk to him, sit next to him. Didn't want to think about The First, didn't want to think of winning, losing, failing, didn't want fancy restaurant dates with someone new. Just wanted to be. Wanted to sit beside him, just be.
".....think we should start that this weekend," Giles said.
"Buffy? Did you hear what I just said? I think we should train the girls to use swords this weekend," Giles said, again.
"Huh? Sure, whatever you think is best, Giles," Buffy said, just to shut him up.
"Buffy, I understand that you were hurt last night and that Spike found you. How do you know that he didn't set it up? So that he could come to your rescue, so you'd see him as a hero?" Giles asked.
"Giles!" Buffy said, exasperated. "You really don't know Spike at all anymore, or you would never even ask me that."
"He's the one that saved me, didn't even know I was going out until I decided to, spur of the moment. And don't even suggest that once I was out, he found some vamp buddies to attack me, or that he did it himself. You are so wrong about this; about him, I can't even begin to explain it to you." Buffy said, wishing she didn't have to keep defending him.
Giles just looked at her and shook his head.
"I have to go and meet Xander at the gym. He's got to go to work and I'm going to take over training until about 6:00PM. I hate to leave you, but Willow is here," Giles said, glad to have some other topic of conversation.
"That's fine Giles," Buffy said, happy to hear he wouldn't be hanging around her all day. "Willow can take care of me, of everything," she said, with a smile.
"Good, fine. I'll be off then," Giles said, getting up to leave.
"Just one more thing, Buffy. Don't trust him too much. Spike," Giles said, as he closed the door behind him.
Trust.
One little word, one world of meaning.
Spike.
As soon as she heard Giles leave, she called to Willow.
"Hey, Buffy. What can I do for you?" Willow asked, coming into the bedroom.
"Willow, my head is still sort of wonky, but I need to, want to go see Spike. Can you walk me down the stairs? Please?" she asked, eyes pleading.
"Sure, Buffy. No problem," Willow said, starting to help Buffy up out of bed.
He was only half-asleep, dreaming about it. He hadn't seen it in almost 10 years, until last summer after he'd left Sunnydale. On his way to Africa, then again, before he returned.
He was now wide-awake as he sensed somebody coming down the stairs. Two people, one unsteady. He opened his eyes as Willow with her arm around Buffy, walked up to his cot.
"Buffy wanted me to bring her down to talk to you," Willow said, then smiled as she turned to leave. She handed the fresh icebag.
"See, Spike? No disparaging looks."
"Appreciate that, Red," Spike said, "I'll try not to snark at ya in return."
Laughing, she went upstairs and closed the door.
"Are you feeling better, Buffy?" he asked.
"Bit wobbly," she replied.
She looked down at him, watching her. Waiting for a word, from her. Always waiting for her word. Except, now, she didn't have any. She looked at him lying there and she was at a loss; loss of words, loss of direction; loss of everything.
He looked at her just staring at him, as if she was working something out in her mind. He knew he should get up so she could sit down, but he was frozen; watching her face as she looked at him.
He wasn't good at silences, "Buffy?"
"Spi...Spike," his name caught in her throat.
He understood now. She was lost and looking for a safe harbor; afraid to be lost, afraid to be found.
He opened up his arms to her and with a small shuddering inhale, she climbed into bed with him, burying her head in his neck, her arm over his chest, around his neck, holding onto him tightly, like he was a life raft. His arms enfolded her gently at first, as if she was a little broken bird; his little broken bird, then stronger as she clung onto him, looking for the security of his arms.
He rubbed her back, murmuring soothingly to her, until she finally relaxed, exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath forever, relaxed her hold just a little. He felt her heartbeat slow, as she finally drifted off to sleep, to a rest that she'd been denied for too long. There was a lump in his throat as he held her in his arms for this first time since?
Ever.
She'd never let herself be held by him. Never. Never held him. Not for comfort, nor out of any sort of feelings between them. Never. Only held onto him while fucking, to forget the pain, forget the loss. Maybe this was the same, holding for comfort, only minus the fucking.
But it felt different. More real. Wanted him to stay, needed him.
Maybe more.
He looked at the clock over the wash machine. Only another couple of hours. Then he'd ask her; when she awoke.
Ask her to trust him.
But for now, he would hold her in her sleep, as long as she needed, help her be at rest.
END OF CHAPTER 5
On his way down to the basement, Spike looked around, and not seeing anybody in the kitchen, he put the object he'd been looking for in his pocket and continued downstairs.
Spike took a good look around the basement, making sure nobody else was there. He then took the object out of his pocket, "Bloody stupid things," he said as he flipped open the cell phone and dialed the number. "Clem? Spike here...yeah, I'm alright, hey listen, there's something I want you to do for me..."
It would be at least 6 or 7 hours before he could do what he was planning; if she wanted to; if she trusted him.
"Do you trust me?" he'd asked her last year, showing her handcuffs for their fun and games. "Never," she'd replied. Hadn't been just about that. Been about everything.
Trust.
He sighed, restless. Nothing for him to do except rest until then, he thought as he closed his eyes.
Upstairs, Buffy was barely listening as Giles went on about the situation with the girls. On and on and on. She felt like she was drowning in it all. She was dizzy and she was starting to remember some things from last night. One thing she knew for certain: it hadn't been Faryl demons that had attacked her, more likely just a couple of vampires. She remembered walking near Spike's old crypt, then nothing else until she was being carried home by Spike. She realized that she had been extremely careless and had nearly paid the ultimate price. Again.
She was off her game; that was for sure. Spike was off his game, too. At least, not so much last night. How were they going to fight The First like this?
She knew she should care, that she should be training, but all she wanted right now was to go to Spike, talk to him, sit next to him. Didn't want to think about The First, didn't want to think of winning, losing, failing, didn't want fancy restaurant dates with someone new. Just wanted to be. Wanted to sit beside him, just be.
".....think we should start that this weekend," Giles said.
"Buffy? Did you hear what I just said? I think we should train the girls to use swords this weekend," Giles said, again.
"Huh? Sure, whatever you think is best, Giles," Buffy said, just to shut him up.
"Buffy, I understand that you were hurt last night and that Spike found you. How do you know that he didn't set it up? So that he could come to your rescue, so you'd see him as a hero?" Giles asked.
"Giles!" Buffy said, exasperated. "You really don't know Spike at all anymore, or you would never even ask me that."
"He's the one that saved me, didn't even know I was going out until I decided to, spur of the moment. And don't even suggest that once I was out, he found some vamp buddies to attack me, or that he did it himself. You are so wrong about this; about him, I can't even begin to explain it to you." Buffy said, wishing she didn't have to keep defending him.
Giles just looked at her and shook his head.
"I have to go and meet Xander at the gym. He's got to go to work and I'm going to take over training until about 6:00PM. I hate to leave you, but Willow is here," Giles said, glad to have some other topic of conversation.
"That's fine Giles," Buffy said, happy to hear he wouldn't be hanging around her all day. "Willow can take care of me, of everything," she said, with a smile.
"Good, fine. I'll be off then," Giles said, getting up to leave.
"Just one more thing, Buffy. Don't trust him too much. Spike," Giles said, as he closed the door behind him.
Trust.
One little word, one world of meaning.
Spike.
As soon as she heard Giles leave, she called to Willow.
"Hey, Buffy. What can I do for you?" Willow asked, coming into the bedroom.
"Willow, my head is still sort of wonky, but I need to, want to go see Spike. Can you walk me down the stairs? Please?" she asked, eyes pleading.
"Sure, Buffy. No problem," Willow said, starting to help Buffy up out of bed.
He was only half-asleep, dreaming about it. He hadn't seen it in almost 10 years, until last summer after he'd left Sunnydale. On his way to Africa, then again, before he returned.
He was now wide-awake as he sensed somebody coming down the stairs. Two people, one unsteady. He opened his eyes as Willow with her arm around Buffy, walked up to his cot.
"Buffy wanted me to bring her down to talk to you," Willow said, then smiled as she turned to leave. She handed the fresh icebag.
"See, Spike? No disparaging looks."
"Appreciate that, Red," Spike said, "I'll try not to snark at ya in return."
Laughing, she went upstairs and closed the door.
"Are you feeling better, Buffy?" he asked.
"Bit wobbly," she replied.
She looked down at him, watching her. Waiting for a word, from her. Always waiting for her word. Except, now, she didn't have any. She looked at him lying there and she was at a loss; loss of words, loss of direction; loss of everything.
He looked at her just staring at him, as if she was working something out in her mind. He knew he should get up so she could sit down, but he was frozen; watching her face as she looked at him.
He wasn't good at silences, "Buffy?"
"Spi...Spike," his name caught in her throat.
He understood now. She was lost and looking for a safe harbor; afraid to be lost, afraid to be found.
He opened up his arms to her and with a small shuddering inhale, she climbed into bed with him, burying her head in his neck, her arm over his chest, around his neck, holding onto him tightly, like he was a life raft. His arms enfolded her gently at first, as if she was a little broken bird; his little broken bird, then stronger as she clung onto him, looking for the security of his arms.
He rubbed her back, murmuring soothingly to her, until she finally relaxed, exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath forever, relaxed her hold just a little. He felt her heartbeat slow, as she finally drifted off to sleep, to a rest that she'd been denied for too long. There was a lump in his throat as he held her in his arms for this first time since?
Ever.
She'd never let herself be held by him. Never. Never held him. Not for comfort, nor out of any sort of feelings between them. Never. Only held onto him while fucking, to forget the pain, forget the loss. Maybe this was the same, holding for comfort, only minus the fucking.
But it felt different. More real. Wanted him to stay, needed him.
Maybe more.
He looked at the clock over the wash machine. Only another couple of hours. Then he'd ask her; when she awoke.
Ask her to trust him.
But for now, he would hold her in her sleep, as long as she needed, help her be at rest.
END OF CHAPTER 5