Spike lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and listening to Angel and Buffy
talk outside his door. He was back. He knew who he was and what was going
on. But he didn't have all of his memories. They were slowly washing over
him, in sepia colors. He didn't want to see or talk to anybody until he was
settled, until everything wasn't so confusing and uncertain.
He did recall the trials for his soul. He vaguely remembered what the old woman and told him after he woke up from his pain-induced coma. He still had one more thing to do, and until he did it, he wouldn't be whole. Spike had been too tired to understand the urgency of this final test, and by the time he did, it was too late.
But somehow he was back. It must have had something to do with Buffy. Which meant she was his final trial. He was lost and confused without her, operating on auto-pilot, with no concept of the past or the future. But now he knew, and with each minute he remembered a bit more. With each passing minute he wished he could escape back to the dark recesses of his mind. It wasn't so painful there. It was the coward's way out, but Spike wasn't feeling very brave at the moment.
He wondered how he made it as far as L.A. The last place he actually remembered was in the middle of Africa. Somehow he had managed to travel half-way around the world without being aware of it. He also wondered how long he had been gone. There was absolutely no way for him to tell, he'd have to ask somebody. Which would mean actually talking to somebody, which he did not want to do at this point. Or ever, really.
Los Angeles was a big city. There were demons, vampires, and demon hunters. Plenty of chances to run into the wrong crowd and get killed. There was an excellent chance that you could drive through the entire city and never run into a familiar face. Yet somehow he survived the Big Bad City and furthermore, found Angel. Just his luck.
He hoped they would leave him alone for the rest of the night, at least. He needed his.
*** "..privacy?" Buffy demanded.
"No, not really," Spike responded, casually flipping through her diary.
"That's it, I'm going to kill you."
"Over a little thing like reading your diary?" Spike asked, pausing to read a passage.
Buffy ripped it out of his hands, "It's not a little thing, Spike. You can't just go around reading people's diaries!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's wrong."
"You're very predictable."
"Spike." Her voice held more than just a hint of warning.
"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what you're thinking if I don't read your diary?"
"Spike, this isn't the first time, is it?"
"First time for what?" He was all big-eyed innocence.
"You're read my diary before." It wasn't a question.
"Well, yes," he admitted, averting his eyes.
She sighed and weighed her options. She could knock him out, kill him, or fuck him. He didn't deserve to be fucked, and she really didn't feel like vacuuming up his ashes, so she settled for punching him in the nose.
"Hey, Slayer! Watch it."
"Spike, damnit, you're getting off easy here. How long have you been reading it?"
"Couple of weeks now," he muttered. He had at least looked ashamed of himself. But for all she knew, it was an act.
Buffy didn't say anything, just sank onto the bed, her face a bright red. She had three journals. One was her Slayer journal, the other one was fake, and then there was the third one. The one Spike was reading. In it she wrote everything about her life, how she felt, her deepest and darkest secrets. It was meant for her eyes only, and she actually had plans of burning it so nobody would find it after her death. She had tears of humiliation in her eyes.
Spike moved towards her. "Oh, are you crying Slayer? Don't cry...please."
She sniffed and rubbed her face, "I'm not crying."
He kneeled in front of her, "I didn't meant to upset you, Buffy. I just wanted to know more about you, is all."
"Why didn't you just ask me?"
"You wouldn't have told me."
"Maybe because I didn't want you to know."
"Do you want anybody to know?"
"What?"
Spike pointed to the diary, now lying on the bed beside her. "You haven't told your friends about that stuff."
"You haven't told the soldier either."
She shook her head, letting her long hair fall forward and hide her face. Spike reached up and gently pushed it back. "You can tell me."
Buffy looked up at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He was looking at her intently, his blue eyes dark and serious. His face was open and caring, and for the first time since she met him, he seemed patient, like he could wait for the answer. She wanted to talk to him, she needed to talk to somebody because sometimes it felt like she might drown under the weight of everything.
"I don't know how." It sounded lame to her ears, like a stupid excuse. But she couldn't explain it any other way.
Spike nodded, "I know it's hard to open up. But you can trust me, Buffy."
Could she really trust him? She trusted him with her body nearly every night, could she go as far as confide in him? Wouldn't that change the nature of their relationship though? She could deal with the guilt of messing around behind Riley's back because it was just sex. She could justify it. But if she started talking to Spike, started opening up, how could she justify it then? He wouldn't just a glorified sex toy anymore.. he'd be a person.
"Where should I start?" She whispered.
"Why are you with me? Why do you allow me to touch you like this?" His fingers lightly caressed her breasts.
"I don't know."
"Buffy, you do too."
"Well, if you know what it is, why are you asking?"
"I want you to say it."
"Why does it matter so much to you?"
"Buffy, it's not about me. It's about you. You have to learn how to open up and let people in."
"It hurts to let people in."
"Sometimes," Spike conceded, "But your friends and your mother loves you, they would never betray you."
"What about you?"
"You know I wouldn't."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you."
"You're the one who wants to be open. So answer me."
"What was the question again?"
Buffy growled in frustration, "Do you love me?" It was an insane question to ask, Buffy knew that. It wouldn't change anything, but it would change absolutely everything. And didn't she already suspect he answer anyway, or else she never would have asked?
"You answer my question first."
Fair enough. "I sleep with you because I want you. And because I don't have to hide anything from you. The others wanted me to be a girl, but with you I can be a girl, a slayer, and a woman. You accept all of me, and I need that."
It was a short speech, but her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. It took so much to make that one simple confession, and she couldn't look at him as she waited for his reaction.
Spike watched her for several seconds, his heart in his throat. He had seen glimpses of her vulnerable side before. At first it made him uncomfortable, but now that he knew her a bit better, he was thrilled by her hesitant confession. He wanted her confidence more than anything, and it occurred to him that reading her diary wasn't the best way to go about that. But maybe it would force her to talk to him, and that was worth her anger.
"Oh Buffy," he said softly, "I make you feel all those things because I love you."
Part of her already knew it, but she was still surprised when he said. Could soulless vampires love? She didn't know. She always thought that they couldn't. Angel couldn't love her without a soul. Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because Spike was intently watching her with apprehension. "I don't know what to say to that," she finally whispered. "I don't know how to respond."
Spike leaned forward until his lips were just a breath away from hers. "You don't have to say anything."
"I don't know what it means.." She said helplessly.
"Let me show you."
She nodded and stretched out on the bed, waiting for him to touch her. He whispered as he leaned over her, "I still want you to..
*** ".talk to me?" Buffy demanded.
Spike didn't answer. She pulled him out of his reverie, reliving that memory was sweet. He had been so worried that Buffy would kick him out of her room, her life, if he pushed her. And he was afraid she would laugh if he told her he loved her.
She didn't exactly react with joy to that revelation, but she hadn't laughed either. It was enough to give him bittersweet hope.
"Spike, please, you can't just ignore me forever."
She was right, he couldn't. But he could ignore her for the rest of the night. It wouldn't do any good to simply tell her he wanted to be left alone. She sat beside the bed, staring at him, waiting for him to respond to her somehow. Maybe if he gave her a crumb she would be satisfied and let him alone.
"How long?"
"How long have you been gone? Ten years."
Spike blinked in surprise. Ten years? No, he couldn't believe that. How could he have been lost in his own blank mind for ten years? How was that possible?
"It seems longer than that though," she continued, "I missed you so much Spike. I really have."
He didn't doubt it. Nobody could touch her like he could. But that was all she missed. She had said as much before he even left. Did he really go get a soul for her? With a newfound objectivity, the notion seemed quite stupid. What the hell had he been thinking? Obviously not much of anything.
"Spike, is it alright if Lorne tells me what he saw? He doesn't want to breach your privacy." Spike really didn't care. "Don't care."
"Spike..will you come with me? To Sunnydale?"
Why was she asking him this? Why would he want to go anywhere with her? Didn't she know she had destroyed him, made him insane? Didn't she care that she broke his heart and his mind, and maybe he couldn't deal with her anymore? He didn't respond.
"Ok, will you think about it? Spike, I want to help you get better."
" 'm fine."
"No, you're not." Buffy got closer to the bed, almost touching him. He didn't have the energy to move away from her, though he wanted to. "I still remember when you helped me get better. I never thanked you properly for that."
"What?"
"The night you told me you loved me. It was so different, so..
*** ".gentle."
"I can be gentle," he said, smiling.
"I didn't know that."
"You never let me show you. You're scared."
"I'm not scared of you," Buffy denied.
"I never said you were scared of me."
Buffy was laying against Spike, her butt pressed against his semi-erect cock, her head resting on his arm. He was rubbing her lightly with his fingers, tracing the side of her body. They were facing the window, and Buffy was watching the way the moonbeams danced in and around the clouds.
"I never let you do this either. Hold me."
"I've always wanted to."
She sighed, "I know. But this.this is different, Spike. It's moving our relationship in a direction that frightens me."
They laid in comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Her naked skin glowed in the silver light, and Spike delighted in the way her long, golden hair reflected the pale light. Truth be told, he delighted in her entire body. It was magnificent, and every time she allowed him to touch her, kiss her, fuck her, it was like a precious gift.
He sighed and felt rather content. He had made love to her before, but she never really wanted it like that. Tonight though, she had really wanted it, almost begged for it. She was opening up to him, trusting him more and more.
"What time is it?" Her voice was thick, and her breath was slowing. He knew she was going to drift to sleep soon.
"A little past 10, actually. We got an early start tonight."
She jumped and sat up. "Shit."
"What?"
"I..I came home to change. Patrolling and a date."
"So what? You wanna go patrol?"
"Well, I promised Riley I'd meet him.."
"No, Buffy."
"No?"
"No, you aren't running away. Not tonight."
"You can't force me to stay," she said coldly, pulling away from him.
"If you leave this bed to go to him, that's it. I'm not coming back."
"Spike.." She was getting angry now. That was fine with him. "You know the deal."
"And what's the deal Buffy? You are leading two lives now, and you won't be able to keep it up. You stay with me tonight."
"You think I'll just choose you? You think I don't want what Riley is offering me?"
"I don't care what you want Slayer. You're going to stay here, with me, tonight."
"Spike, you can't just tell me what to do," she protested.
"You are staying here," his voice was low, his words measured and clipped. Buffy finally felt how tense he was, could sense his anger. Whatever was on his mind, was it really worth fighting over? It's not like she needed to see Riley. But at the same time, she didn't want to give in and let him think he could just boss her around whenever he felt like it.
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"We still need to talk."
"I don't.." I don't want to talk, she was going to say, but she didn't think Spike was too concerned about what she wanted.
"Tough shit, Princess."
"You know, you aren't being very pleasant."
"If you lay back down, I can't be very pleasant."
She sighed, but relaxed against him. There was no use fighting him when he got like his, he was surprisingly stubborn.
"Fine, what do you want to talk.."
*** ".about?" Spike asked.
"You made me talk, Spike. You made me open up. It changed me."
Spike shrugged, and looked unconcerned. "It won't change me."
He did recall the trials for his soul. He vaguely remembered what the old woman and told him after he woke up from his pain-induced coma. He still had one more thing to do, and until he did it, he wouldn't be whole. Spike had been too tired to understand the urgency of this final test, and by the time he did, it was too late.
But somehow he was back. It must have had something to do with Buffy. Which meant she was his final trial. He was lost and confused without her, operating on auto-pilot, with no concept of the past or the future. But now he knew, and with each minute he remembered a bit more. With each passing minute he wished he could escape back to the dark recesses of his mind. It wasn't so painful there. It was the coward's way out, but Spike wasn't feeling very brave at the moment.
He wondered how he made it as far as L.A. The last place he actually remembered was in the middle of Africa. Somehow he had managed to travel half-way around the world without being aware of it. He also wondered how long he had been gone. There was absolutely no way for him to tell, he'd have to ask somebody. Which would mean actually talking to somebody, which he did not want to do at this point. Or ever, really.
Los Angeles was a big city. There were demons, vampires, and demon hunters. Plenty of chances to run into the wrong crowd and get killed. There was an excellent chance that you could drive through the entire city and never run into a familiar face. Yet somehow he survived the Big Bad City and furthermore, found Angel. Just his luck.
He hoped they would leave him alone for the rest of the night, at least. He needed his.
*** "..privacy?" Buffy demanded.
"No, not really," Spike responded, casually flipping through her diary.
"That's it, I'm going to kill you."
"Over a little thing like reading your diary?" Spike asked, pausing to read a passage.
Buffy ripped it out of his hands, "It's not a little thing, Spike. You can't just go around reading people's diaries!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's wrong."
"You're very predictable."
"Spike." Her voice held more than just a hint of warning.
"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know what you're thinking if I don't read your diary?"
"Spike, this isn't the first time, is it?"
"First time for what?" He was all big-eyed innocence.
"You're read my diary before." It wasn't a question.
"Well, yes," he admitted, averting his eyes.
She sighed and weighed her options. She could knock him out, kill him, or fuck him. He didn't deserve to be fucked, and she really didn't feel like vacuuming up his ashes, so she settled for punching him in the nose.
"Hey, Slayer! Watch it."
"Spike, damnit, you're getting off easy here. How long have you been reading it?"
"Couple of weeks now," he muttered. He had at least looked ashamed of himself. But for all she knew, it was an act.
Buffy didn't say anything, just sank onto the bed, her face a bright red. She had three journals. One was her Slayer journal, the other one was fake, and then there was the third one. The one Spike was reading. In it she wrote everything about her life, how she felt, her deepest and darkest secrets. It was meant for her eyes only, and she actually had plans of burning it so nobody would find it after her death. She had tears of humiliation in her eyes.
Spike moved towards her. "Oh, are you crying Slayer? Don't cry...please."
She sniffed and rubbed her face, "I'm not crying."
He kneeled in front of her, "I didn't meant to upset you, Buffy. I just wanted to know more about you, is all."
"Why didn't you just ask me?"
"You wouldn't have told me."
"Maybe because I didn't want you to know."
"Do you want anybody to know?"
"What?"
Spike pointed to the diary, now lying on the bed beside her. "You haven't told your friends about that stuff."
"You haven't told the soldier either."
She shook her head, letting her long hair fall forward and hide her face. Spike reached up and gently pushed it back. "You can tell me."
Buffy looked up at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. He was looking at her intently, his blue eyes dark and serious. His face was open and caring, and for the first time since she met him, he seemed patient, like he could wait for the answer. She wanted to talk to him, she needed to talk to somebody because sometimes it felt like she might drown under the weight of everything.
"I don't know how." It sounded lame to her ears, like a stupid excuse. But she couldn't explain it any other way.
Spike nodded, "I know it's hard to open up. But you can trust me, Buffy."
Could she really trust him? She trusted him with her body nearly every night, could she go as far as confide in him? Wouldn't that change the nature of their relationship though? She could deal with the guilt of messing around behind Riley's back because it was just sex. She could justify it. But if she started talking to Spike, started opening up, how could she justify it then? He wouldn't just a glorified sex toy anymore.. he'd be a person.
"Where should I start?" She whispered.
"Why are you with me? Why do you allow me to touch you like this?" His fingers lightly caressed her breasts.
"I don't know."
"Buffy, you do too."
"Well, if you know what it is, why are you asking?"
"I want you to say it."
"Why does it matter so much to you?"
"Buffy, it's not about me. It's about you. You have to learn how to open up and let people in."
"It hurts to let people in."
"Sometimes," Spike conceded, "But your friends and your mother loves you, they would never betray you."
"What about you?"
"You know I wouldn't."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you."
"You're the one who wants to be open. So answer me."
"What was the question again?"
Buffy growled in frustration, "Do you love me?" It was an insane question to ask, Buffy knew that. It wouldn't change anything, but it would change absolutely everything. And didn't she already suspect he answer anyway, or else she never would have asked?
"You answer my question first."
Fair enough. "I sleep with you because I want you. And because I don't have to hide anything from you. The others wanted me to be a girl, but with you I can be a girl, a slayer, and a woman. You accept all of me, and I need that."
It was a short speech, but her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. It took so much to make that one simple confession, and she couldn't look at him as she waited for his reaction.
Spike watched her for several seconds, his heart in his throat. He had seen glimpses of her vulnerable side before. At first it made him uncomfortable, but now that he knew her a bit better, he was thrilled by her hesitant confession. He wanted her confidence more than anything, and it occurred to him that reading her diary wasn't the best way to go about that. But maybe it would force her to talk to him, and that was worth her anger.
"Oh Buffy," he said softly, "I make you feel all those things because I love you."
Part of her already knew it, but she was still surprised when he said. Could soulless vampires love? She didn't know. She always thought that they couldn't. Angel couldn't love her without a soul. Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because Spike was intently watching her with apprehension. "I don't know what to say to that," she finally whispered. "I don't know how to respond."
Spike leaned forward until his lips were just a breath away from hers. "You don't have to say anything."
"I don't know what it means.." She said helplessly.
"Let me show you."
She nodded and stretched out on the bed, waiting for him to touch her. He whispered as he leaned over her, "I still want you to..
*** ".talk to me?" Buffy demanded.
Spike didn't answer. She pulled him out of his reverie, reliving that memory was sweet. He had been so worried that Buffy would kick him out of her room, her life, if he pushed her. And he was afraid she would laugh if he told her he loved her.
She didn't exactly react with joy to that revelation, but she hadn't laughed either. It was enough to give him bittersweet hope.
"Spike, please, you can't just ignore me forever."
She was right, he couldn't. But he could ignore her for the rest of the night. It wouldn't do any good to simply tell her he wanted to be left alone. She sat beside the bed, staring at him, waiting for him to respond to her somehow. Maybe if he gave her a crumb she would be satisfied and let him alone.
"How long?"
"How long have you been gone? Ten years."
Spike blinked in surprise. Ten years? No, he couldn't believe that. How could he have been lost in his own blank mind for ten years? How was that possible?
"It seems longer than that though," she continued, "I missed you so much Spike. I really have."
He didn't doubt it. Nobody could touch her like he could. But that was all she missed. She had said as much before he even left. Did he really go get a soul for her? With a newfound objectivity, the notion seemed quite stupid. What the hell had he been thinking? Obviously not much of anything.
"Spike, is it alright if Lorne tells me what he saw? He doesn't want to breach your privacy." Spike really didn't care. "Don't care."
"Spike..will you come with me? To Sunnydale?"
Why was she asking him this? Why would he want to go anywhere with her? Didn't she know she had destroyed him, made him insane? Didn't she care that she broke his heart and his mind, and maybe he couldn't deal with her anymore? He didn't respond.
"Ok, will you think about it? Spike, I want to help you get better."
" 'm fine."
"No, you're not." Buffy got closer to the bed, almost touching him. He didn't have the energy to move away from her, though he wanted to. "I still remember when you helped me get better. I never thanked you properly for that."
"What?"
"The night you told me you loved me. It was so different, so..
*** ".gentle."
"I can be gentle," he said, smiling.
"I didn't know that."
"You never let me show you. You're scared."
"I'm not scared of you," Buffy denied.
"I never said you were scared of me."
Buffy was laying against Spike, her butt pressed against his semi-erect cock, her head resting on his arm. He was rubbing her lightly with his fingers, tracing the side of her body. They were facing the window, and Buffy was watching the way the moonbeams danced in and around the clouds.
"I never let you do this either. Hold me."
"I've always wanted to."
She sighed, "I know. But this.this is different, Spike. It's moving our relationship in a direction that frightens me."
They laid in comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Her naked skin glowed in the silver light, and Spike delighted in the way her long, golden hair reflected the pale light. Truth be told, he delighted in her entire body. It was magnificent, and every time she allowed him to touch her, kiss her, fuck her, it was like a precious gift.
He sighed and felt rather content. He had made love to her before, but she never really wanted it like that. Tonight though, she had really wanted it, almost begged for it. She was opening up to him, trusting him more and more.
"What time is it?" Her voice was thick, and her breath was slowing. He knew she was going to drift to sleep soon.
"A little past 10, actually. We got an early start tonight."
She jumped and sat up. "Shit."
"What?"
"I..I came home to change. Patrolling and a date."
"So what? You wanna go patrol?"
"Well, I promised Riley I'd meet him.."
"No, Buffy."
"No?"
"No, you aren't running away. Not tonight."
"You can't force me to stay," she said coldly, pulling away from him.
"If you leave this bed to go to him, that's it. I'm not coming back."
"Spike.." She was getting angry now. That was fine with him. "You know the deal."
"And what's the deal Buffy? You are leading two lives now, and you won't be able to keep it up. You stay with me tonight."
"You think I'll just choose you? You think I don't want what Riley is offering me?"
"I don't care what you want Slayer. You're going to stay here, with me, tonight."
"Spike, you can't just tell me what to do," she protested.
"You are staying here," his voice was low, his words measured and clipped. Buffy finally felt how tense he was, could sense his anger. Whatever was on his mind, was it really worth fighting over? It's not like she needed to see Riley. But at the same time, she didn't want to give in and let him think he could just boss her around whenever he felt like it.
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"We still need to talk."
"I don't.." I don't want to talk, she was going to say, but she didn't think Spike was too concerned about what she wanted.
"Tough shit, Princess."
"You know, you aren't being very pleasant."
"If you lay back down, I can't be very pleasant."
She sighed, but relaxed against him. There was no use fighting him when he got like his, he was surprisingly stubborn.
"Fine, what do you want to talk.."
*** ".about?" Spike asked.
"You made me talk, Spike. You made me open up. It changed me."
Spike shrugged, and looked unconcerned. "It won't change me."
