-Two Months Later-
"Careful!" Buffy called up to Spike as the ladder teetered.
"I'm being careful!" Spike said back to her. He reached up and cautiously placed the gold star in his hands on top of the decorated Christmas tree. He heard Buffy make a noise of happiness. He came back down just as attentively as he had climbed up, standing next to Buffy as they looked at their work.
"It's beautiful," she said with a loopy grin.
Spike raised an eyebrow, studying the 8 foot tree which stood in front of the dusk-darkened window. He didn't know if 'beautiful' was quite the right adjective for the piece of work. Colorful rainbow bulbs were spread across the branches, followed by candy canes and plastic icicles. A rope of multi- colored mini Christmas lights was strung throughout the boughs followed by a popcorn garland. Buffy had insisted on the plastic figures of snowmen, gingerbread, and Santa Claus's which hung gaudily from the tree, smiling blankly at him. The whole tree was then covered in shiny, silver strips of cellophane meant to be ice cycles.
"Yeah, we uh, did a pretty nice job," he replied as Buffy beamed.
"The star's crooked," she said suddenly after a pause.
"What?" Spike asked, staring at it, cocking his head to one side.
"It's crooked, it leans to the left," she pointed out, staring at him.
"It is not," he argued. "How can you tell with all the lights off anyway?" He asked, pointing out the fact the only illumination in the room came from the Christmas lights. No way was he climbing back up that latter, he was lucky he hadn't fallen the first time, a second was tempting the Fates.
"Because I can. Spike! We can't have a crooked star! Please, please, please, can you fix it?" Buffy pleaded with her most pathetic look.
"Bloody hell," Spike cursed as he started up the ladder again. "Break my neck 'cause the bleedin' star hangs a bit to the left. All I need is to be paralyzed again," he muttered as he reached up and moved the star.
Buffy watched him with a smile on her face. He wasn't really angry, she knew that, he just liked to argue. He would have done it without her pathetic look. The smile slowly melted off Buffy's face as she studied Spike from the ground. He would have done it even without the pathetic look, she repeated in her head. He was willing to do anything for her, not just fix a stupid Christmas star, but anything. Wasn't he here right now, keeping her company?
"Is that fine?" Spike asked from the ladder.
"Perfect..." She said back quietly, not even looking.
Spike climbed down again and brushed his hands off on his jeans, staring at her. She looked ill. "You all right love? I didn't mean that stuff..." He assured her, thinking perhaps he had made her feel bad.
"I---" She meant to say I'm fine, everything's fine, but the words that spilled from her mouth were completely different. "I love you."
Spike took a step back. "Come again pet? What did you say?" The smell of pine must be going to his head, Spike told himself.
"I love you," she repeated, louder, meeting his eyes. She didn't blink, or smile, or cry, or do anything to signal she was joking or going insane. She looked completely normal, as if this was something she said everyday.
Spike couldn't answer, his world was spinning. Buffy had just said she loved him. Buffy, unreachable, goddess Buffy, had confessed her love. Spike barely restrained himself from slapping his face. This wasn't a dream, it was real, actually, truly, incredibly real.
"I love you too Buffy," he replied finally, his voice catching.
"I'm sorry," Buffy said, her own voice hitching. She threw her arms around his neck.
"Sorry for what?" Spike asked as his arms automatically enclosed her waist.
"For not telling you sooner," she said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his neck. "For being so stubborn and telling myself what I felt was only gratefulness and friendship."
Spike had nothing to say, he hugged her tighter.
"It's true, it really is, I love you." Spike felt a warm tear on his cold skin.
"Buffy, love, don't cry, I'm not blaming you for anything. Don't dwell on it. Only thing that matters is that you told me now, and that's it." He lifted her chin and stared into the hazel depths, cloudy with tears. "Everything's ok now."
She stared at him, and the love she was feeling so deeply turned to something else, darker, but just as deep as love. Lust. Passion. Want. Need. The emotions unfurled inside her as rapidly as her realization she loved him, completely and fully, no matter if he was Spike the Vampire or William her Husband.
And the words tumbled from her lips in a low murmur that only he could hear, "Make love to me."
"Careful!" Buffy called up to Spike as the ladder teetered.
"I'm being careful!" Spike said back to her. He reached up and cautiously placed the gold star in his hands on top of the decorated Christmas tree. He heard Buffy make a noise of happiness. He came back down just as attentively as he had climbed up, standing next to Buffy as they looked at their work.
"It's beautiful," she said with a loopy grin.
Spike raised an eyebrow, studying the 8 foot tree which stood in front of the dusk-darkened window. He didn't know if 'beautiful' was quite the right adjective for the piece of work. Colorful rainbow bulbs were spread across the branches, followed by candy canes and plastic icicles. A rope of multi- colored mini Christmas lights was strung throughout the boughs followed by a popcorn garland. Buffy had insisted on the plastic figures of snowmen, gingerbread, and Santa Claus's which hung gaudily from the tree, smiling blankly at him. The whole tree was then covered in shiny, silver strips of cellophane meant to be ice cycles.
"Yeah, we uh, did a pretty nice job," he replied as Buffy beamed.
"The star's crooked," she said suddenly after a pause.
"What?" Spike asked, staring at it, cocking his head to one side.
"It's crooked, it leans to the left," she pointed out, staring at him.
"It is not," he argued. "How can you tell with all the lights off anyway?" He asked, pointing out the fact the only illumination in the room came from the Christmas lights. No way was he climbing back up that latter, he was lucky he hadn't fallen the first time, a second was tempting the Fates.
"Because I can. Spike! We can't have a crooked star! Please, please, please, can you fix it?" Buffy pleaded with her most pathetic look.
"Bloody hell," Spike cursed as he started up the ladder again. "Break my neck 'cause the bleedin' star hangs a bit to the left. All I need is to be paralyzed again," he muttered as he reached up and moved the star.
Buffy watched him with a smile on her face. He wasn't really angry, she knew that, he just liked to argue. He would have done it without her pathetic look. The smile slowly melted off Buffy's face as she studied Spike from the ground. He would have done it even without the pathetic look, she repeated in her head. He was willing to do anything for her, not just fix a stupid Christmas star, but anything. Wasn't he here right now, keeping her company?
"Is that fine?" Spike asked from the ladder.
"Perfect..." She said back quietly, not even looking.
Spike climbed down again and brushed his hands off on his jeans, staring at her. She looked ill. "You all right love? I didn't mean that stuff..." He assured her, thinking perhaps he had made her feel bad.
"I---" She meant to say I'm fine, everything's fine, but the words that spilled from her mouth were completely different. "I love you."
Spike took a step back. "Come again pet? What did you say?" The smell of pine must be going to his head, Spike told himself.
"I love you," she repeated, louder, meeting his eyes. She didn't blink, or smile, or cry, or do anything to signal she was joking or going insane. She looked completely normal, as if this was something she said everyday.
Spike couldn't answer, his world was spinning. Buffy had just said she loved him. Buffy, unreachable, goddess Buffy, had confessed her love. Spike barely restrained himself from slapping his face. This wasn't a dream, it was real, actually, truly, incredibly real.
"I love you too Buffy," he replied finally, his voice catching.
"I'm sorry," Buffy said, her own voice hitching. She threw her arms around his neck.
"Sorry for what?" Spike asked as his arms automatically enclosed her waist.
"For not telling you sooner," she said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his neck. "For being so stubborn and telling myself what I felt was only gratefulness and friendship."
Spike had nothing to say, he hugged her tighter.
"It's true, it really is, I love you." Spike felt a warm tear on his cold skin.
"Buffy, love, don't cry, I'm not blaming you for anything. Don't dwell on it. Only thing that matters is that you told me now, and that's it." He lifted her chin and stared into the hazel depths, cloudy with tears. "Everything's ok now."
She stared at him, and the love she was feeling so deeply turned to something else, darker, but just as deep as love. Lust. Passion. Want. Need. The emotions unfurled inside her as rapidly as her realization she loved him, completely and fully, no matter if he was Spike the Vampire or William her Husband.
And the words tumbled from her lips in a low murmur that only he could hear, "Make love to me."
