Chapter 19
Forgiveness
After running away from the crypt, Spike stumbled his way to the tunnels to shade himself from the sun overhead, and to find a quiet space to gain perspective on what had happened. Correction.....what he had allowed to happen. That was the idea that had him bugged the most. What had he been thinking? Trying to turn her? In all the years of being in Sunnydale, the thought of making Buffy into one of his kind had never crossed his mind. In the old days, dreams of killing her, draining her dry and leaving her body to rot were among his better fantasies, but turning her had never been among of them. Even when things changed between them, when they became lovers, her life and warmth were the things he cherished most about her. If he had succeeded in his attempt, she would have woken and despised him for it. He would have made her into the thing she feared most. It was always the monster that dwelled inside of him that she hated, the reason she couldn't love him the way he loved her.
He was desperate. Desperation, he thought, often makes people do crazy things. But that wasn't quite it either. He'd experienced these feelings of despair before. He madly paced the tunnel recalling another event he'd endured that invoked the same feelings inside of him. He conjured the memories of the night when Buffy died. He'd been there through the whole process, much to the protest of her friends and watcher. He was there up until the end when they'd laid her body in the ground, feeling as though his whole life had crumbled in just a few hours. Though overlooked by the others, his grief had been as real and painful as that of any of the scoobies. Afterward, he'd spent many nights sitting by her grave, talking to her, and wishing she was there with him. Shedding buckets of tears, it took every bit of resolve he had not to greet the morning sun and allow his ashes to scatter above her on the dirt. He knew it would be the closest he would ever be to her again. The only thing keeping him from doing it was his promise to her, to be there for Dawn. And so he had been, until she miraculously came back, giving him a reason to want to live again.
Seeing her earlier, her body seemingly lifeless in front of him had caused his mind to go on temporary overload. The panic inside was only matched by the utter feelings of desperation to hold onto her, whatever it took, knowing what his world would be like if he lost her again. He convinced himself that this was his reasoning, or lack of, for attempting something so purely selfish, not thinking of what it would actually do to her. The extra nudge he was getting from the outside source only helped to increase his lack of judgment. He'd met the evil they'd been fighting and almost lost his will to it. The First was powerful, knowing just when to strike. He couldn't deny it that. But it didn't win. Buffy was still alive, and he was here to make sure she was all right.
It was dark, hours having passed since he'd emerged from the crypt in a fit of guilt and confusion. He'd spent most of the day sitting at the bar, drowning in his self-loathing, accompanied by the usual bottle of whiskey. The only difference from the usual routine was the blood chasers following it. Human blood. He'd needed something rich and potent to cure the cravings coursing through his body after allowing himself to dine on Buffy's blood. This, of course, added to his desire for the alcohol to help numb the guilt. The blood of humans, even bought from a seedy dive like the one he was in, was something he hadn't treated himself to since he'd acquired his soul. When he'd finally had enough, he decided it was time to check on her, knowing she would have been moved back to her own house by now.
Spike leaned against the tree, cigarette dangling between his lips, watching intently as a figure entered and exited from Buffy's room. The small lamp at her bedside left just enough light through the blinds to expose the outline of the area. He took one last drag on the butt and tossed it aside with the ten others already littering the ground beside him. He snorted, remembering times past when he'd stood in this very spot, wasting countless nights just to catch a stolen glimpse of the slayer in her window. 'The more things change, the more they stay the same' he thought to himself as he lit the next cigarette from the pack. He passed the time contemplating whether to sneak up to her window, or burst through the front door, fist and fangs flying if need be.
He paced impatiently back and forth, wearing a path in the grass beside the tree. It had been an hour and he was getting antsy, patience not being one of his strongest virtues. Finally, without a plan, the decision was made and his feet were carrying him up the porch steps to the door. If he had to face them, he would go in like a man, not a ponce who hid in shadows with his tail between his legs. Big Bad façade in place, he slammed the door open with a thud and stepped through. Glancing left and right, he dropped his guard when he realized no one was there to greet him. He stood silently, listening for any sounds that would indicate where the others might be. The house was quiet, the only noise coming from the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Without thought, he slowly made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached the closed door of Buffy's room. Placing his hand on the knob, he stopped, hearing the distinct click of a weapon behind him.
"What do you think you're doing, Spike?" Giles demanded. His voice was threatening, anger expressed in every word.
Spike swirled around, catching the sight of the crossbow aimed directly toward his chest. His glance fell from the wooden arrow to the man holding it.
"I asked you a question."
"Just checking on her, Rupert. Needed to see she was okay. Would you put that bloody thing away?!" He was unnerved by the bow so close. One wrong move... a twitch of a finger.
"No... I won't. And you've done enough. You need to leave while I'm feeling courteous."
"Don't do me any favors. And don't think I'm going to fall for this bleeding hero crap, either. We both know you won't do it." Spike took a step forward, challenging Giles' resolve.
"Don't be so sure, Spike. I've needed less reason to kill your kind."
Spike's eyes widened. "And what is that, mate? What is my kind?"
Giles passed it off, repositioning his finger on the trigger. "What were you trying to do, Spike? Drain her? Kill her? Just couldn't resist, could you? I should have known you'd strike when she was down...vulnerable. I always knew we couldn't trust you."
Spike's felt the rage in the pit of his stomach, building with every word Giles threw at him. He was trying to hold back, trying to prove he could control the demon inside. He clenched his jaw, keeping the anger at bay as Giles continued his rant.
"Buffy was stupid not to have taken care of you long ago. She was blind to what you really are. I've read the books... the watcher's accounts. I know what you're capable of. You think this thing you have... this obsession with Buffy, changes what you are or what you've done?"
Spike finally decided he'd taken enough. With lightening speed, the crossbow was ripped from Giles' hands and throw across the hallway. A low growl emitted from the vampire, now pressed up against the other man, holding him tightly against the wall.
Spike began to speak, a low menacing tone of warning. "You've bloody well had it in for me from the start. Didn't matter what I did... how many times I saved you, helped in the fight. Never enough for any one of you. It's time for you to get something straight. I. Don't. Kill. Humans. Not anymore." He let go of his grip, stepping back to allow the other man some room to breathe.
"So you went after the one person you could bite. You don't kill because of that chip in your head. That's not redemption. Without it controlling you, we would have been dead years ago."
"You might have been. But that was before. Things are different now. I've changed."
"Why? Because of the soul? I didn't see it doing you a lot of good this morning."
"What's between the slayer and me is none of your concern. You don't know what happened, so I suggest you sod off."
Giles crossed his arms in front of him, leaning casually against the wall. "Why don't you enlighten me, Spike. Explain it to me so I understand."
"Yeah. I'd like to hear this too."
Spike and Giles turned, both shocked at the interruption from behind them. Buffy was standing, weakly leaning against the doorframe, staring at the arguing pair.
"Buffy! You shouldn't be out of bed! You're weak," Giles demanded, rushing over to her, letting her grab onto him for support.
"I need to talk to Spike."
" I don't think..."
She cut him off, glancing at Spike who was still mesmerized by her appearance. "Giles....let me handle this." She turned, strength escaping her as she made her way back into the room, gesturing for the vampire to follow.
Spike passed by Giles, entering her room, much to the dismay of the watcher. Once inside, he stood, hands in the pockets of his coat, watching as she lay back down on the bed.
"Close the door. We need to talk."
He obeyed and closed the door, leaving Giles alone in the hallway. Turning back around, trying not to get too close, his gaze focused on her body and the several bandages adorning it in various places. His eyes traveled upward and finally rested on her neck.
He then met her eyes, anticipating her reaction to his being there. He continued to stare, even as he watched her hand slip the white gauze away from her neck, pushing her hair back out of the way.
She tilted her head, exposing the area he'd been tempted by earlier. "Is this why you're here? Is this what you want?" Her voice was sugary and inviting, almost begging for him to say yes.
The urge was powerful, knowing the intoxicating effect her blood had on him. She was tempting the demon, not realizing the struggle it was causing inside of him. He stepped back, almost tripping over his own feet, shock and confusion coursing through him. She let her hair go, allowing it to fall back in place. "That's what I thought."
Raising an eyebrow, he remained silent.
"I remember it, Spike. All of it."
"Buffy... I never meant..."
She didn't let him finish before she interrupted. "I remember you talking to me. I knew you were there. I could hear everything you were saying." She gazed into his eyes, trying to determine the mood in the blue orbs staring back at her. "But there was something else... another person. I thought I heard you talking to someone else."
"I was, luv. As daft as it may sound, Drusilla was there, talking to me... convincing me that I was gonna loose you. I was bloody stupid, Buffy. I just couldn't stand the thought..." He looked away, not wanting her to notice the tears he was trying to push back.
"The First."
He nodded in agreement, gaining control over his emotions. "It got a hold of me. Made me want to..." He gestured toward her, afraid to say the words out loud.
"You were gonna kill me?" Her eyes widened, waiting for an answer.
"No. That's not what it wanted. It didn't want you dead, luv. It wanted you alive. Well, sort of." He again lost the courage to look at her, instead focusing anywhere but where she was.
Realization set in, and understanding took over her features. "So... you were gonna turn me." Her voice was gentle. Too gentle for the subject they were speaking about. Surprisingly, he neither felt nor heard any anger from her.
"I'd never... I couldn't."
She began rubbing the healing mark, unaware that she was doing so. "Was it hard? To stop?" she asked.
His head snapped up, eyes squinting in disbelief. "Buffy... don't ask me that." His tone was harsh, almost scolding.
"I want to know. I need to know what it was like... for you."
"No... you don't." A look of annoyance was settled on his face. "Believe me, slayer. It's best if we just leave it alone. Forget it."
Pointing toward her neck, she shook her head. "Gonna be kinda hard to do that. Don't you think?"
The guilty feeling tried stepping up to the forefront again, but Spike pushed it away, instead putting himself on the defense.
"You wanna hear how I enjoyed it? Felt you under me, tasted your blood and didn't want to stop until I took every bit of it? Is that what you want to hear?!"
She tried not to let him intimidate her, knowing it was his intention to make her want to change the subject. She wouldn't let him.
"It's what I want to hear if it's the truth."
He sighed when he realized he wasn't getting out of it. "Vampire, remember? What do you think?!"
She looked at him calmly, not paying attention to the sarcasm in his question. "I think you wanted it. I think you've always wanted it."
"Is that so?" He pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and waited for her reply.
"It's in your nature, Spike. I've never forgotten that. It's what you are. But I also know you never tried to act on it, even after you found out you could. That's the part I always had a hard time remembering. I accused you of a lot of things. Of being a monster when you changed everything not to be."
"It's in the past, luv."
"No. It's not. It's always here... between us. I'm sorry for treating you like I did. I never even considered how hard it was for you to control it. You could have had that one good day you were looking for, and you didn't."
"But this morning..."
"This morning, you could have killed me. You fought back and let the man overpower what the demon craved. That took guts. More strength than I would have had if I were in your place. Especially with The First there. I just wanted you to know I understand. I don't blame you."
He took it all in, and moved closer, sitting on the bed beside her when she acknowledged it was okay.
"Buffy... I never would have hurt you. I was just confused... afraid. I wasn't thinking straight. You have to believe it would never happen again."
"I know, Spike, and I do. The First has a way of using things. Twisting them. I know that. I've seen what it can do."
"You keep saying that. What did it do to you?"
"I told you it appears usually in the form of someone you want to see. Well... I saw you. You'd been gone so long and I was afraid something had happened to you. Not knowing was killing me. The First showed up, looking like you, and I was so relieved. But then I realized something was wrong. It said things. Did things. Then I knew....."
"What kind of things? Did it hurt you?" His voice was angry and protective.
"No, Spike. It just made me realize how much I wanted you to come back. How much I needed you here. There was so much I wanted to apologize for."
"I'm sorry, luv. Had some things to work through. Never intended to come back here. Didn't want to face you."
"I thought you loved me." Her eyes were hopeful, but full of pain knowing he'd tried to stay away from her.
"You know I do. It's not a question of that. I've just done so much, Buffy. Things I have a hard enough time dealing with without troubling you about them. You deserve something better."
"What, are you taking lessons from Angel now? Angel, Giles, now you? Everyone always knows what's best for me! How about what I want?"
"What is it you want, pet? You're never very clear on that. I only seem to recall you wanting one thing from me. And I never denied you that, because you wouldn't allow more."
She closed her eyes, settling back into her pillow. It was now or never.
"I want you, Spike. I want you to love me the way you used to. As much as I tried to deny it, I always saw it in your eyes. Now when you look at me, I see pain... and regret. I don't want you to look at me like that anymore."
"You want me how? As your lapdog? Someone to chase you around so you can feel wanted?"
"I want you to love me so I can love you back."
He was stunned hearing the words escape her lips. For three years he'd dreamt of the moment when she would say she loved him. It felt surreal and conflicting at the same time. His gaze melted into hers when he felt her reach out, taking his hand in hers.
"We need to think about this, Buffy." He almost couldn't believe the words he was saying. They flowed out without any rhyme or reason. Well, reason maybe.
"I'm done thinking, Spike. I'm tired of denying what I feel just because I'm afraid. I heard what you said to me earlier. You said we had a connection. And we do. And it does burn. But that's what makes it so good."
"There's other things to consider, luv. Other obstacles." He still couldn't believe he was fighting her. She was offering herself the way he'd always wanted. Why was he making excuses?
"Kitara?" she asked, annoyed having to speak her name.
"For one."
"You don't love her, Spike. I know it. Stop trying to convince yourself she's what you need. Believe me, you don't need her."
"Your friends. Your watcher. Can't see anyone being too happy about it." 'Shut up, Spike. What are you doing?!' the voice in his head screamed.
"I can deal with them."
"What if we can't do it without resorting back to the way things were? We weren't good for each other. You know it."
"We can be. We've both changed. I want you, you want me... it's that simple."
He made a gesture to open his mouth but she pulled him toward her instead, cutting him off.
"Just shut up and kiss me, Spike."
He sighed heavily, the battle lost, and he smiled. A smile years overdue. He slowly reached her lips, gently spreading them with his own, before relishing in the softness of the kiss. Tender and slow, built on love and intimacy instead of the urgency and desperation they'd previously know.
"I'm tired, Spike. I need to sleep. Will you stay here with me?"
"No place I'd rather be, luv."
He stood up, stripping out of his duster, throwing it over the chair beside them. He took his place, lying along side of her, letting her feel the love in his embrace. Realizing it was the first time she'd actually allowed him to hold her, he wrapped his arm even tighter, pushing his body closer against hers. He watched intently as she drifted off. He chuckled softly to himself recalling the day's events. If he'd known it would turn out this way, he would have bitten her a long time ago. He shook his head at the amusing thought and relaxed, allowing himself to join her in sleep.
TBC
Forgiveness
After running away from the crypt, Spike stumbled his way to the tunnels to shade himself from the sun overhead, and to find a quiet space to gain perspective on what had happened. Correction.....what he had allowed to happen. That was the idea that had him bugged the most. What had he been thinking? Trying to turn her? In all the years of being in Sunnydale, the thought of making Buffy into one of his kind had never crossed his mind. In the old days, dreams of killing her, draining her dry and leaving her body to rot were among his better fantasies, but turning her had never been among of them. Even when things changed between them, when they became lovers, her life and warmth were the things he cherished most about her. If he had succeeded in his attempt, she would have woken and despised him for it. He would have made her into the thing she feared most. It was always the monster that dwelled inside of him that she hated, the reason she couldn't love him the way he loved her.
He was desperate. Desperation, he thought, often makes people do crazy things. But that wasn't quite it either. He'd experienced these feelings of despair before. He madly paced the tunnel recalling another event he'd endured that invoked the same feelings inside of him. He conjured the memories of the night when Buffy died. He'd been there through the whole process, much to the protest of her friends and watcher. He was there up until the end when they'd laid her body in the ground, feeling as though his whole life had crumbled in just a few hours. Though overlooked by the others, his grief had been as real and painful as that of any of the scoobies. Afterward, he'd spent many nights sitting by her grave, talking to her, and wishing she was there with him. Shedding buckets of tears, it took every bit of resolve he had not to greet the morning sun and allow his ashes to scatter above her on the dirt. He knew it would be the closest he would ever be to her again. The only thing keeping him from doing it was his promise to her, to be there for Dawn. And so he had been, until she miraculously came back, giving him a reason to want to live again.
Seeing her earlier, her body seemingly lifeless in front of him had caused his mind to go on temporary overload. The panic inside was only matched by the utter feelings of desperation to hold onto her, whatever it took, knowing what his world would be like if he lost her again. He convinced himself that this was his reasoning, or lack of, for attempting something so purely selfish, not thinking of what it would actually do to her. The extra nudge he was getting from the outside source only helped to increase his lack of judgment. He'd met the evil they'd been fighting and almost lost his will to it. The First was powerful, knowing just when to strike. He couldn't deny it that. But it didn't win. Buffy was still alive, and he was here to make sure she was all right.
It was dark, hours having passed since he'd emerged from the crypt in a fit of guilt and confusion. He'd spent most of the day sitting at the bar, drowning in his self-loathing, accompanied by the usual bottle of whiskey. The only difference from the usual routine was the blood chasers following it. Human blood. He'd needed something rich and potent to cure the cravings coursing through his body after allowing himself to dine on Buffy's blood. This, of course, added to his desire for the alcohol to help numb the guilt. The blood of humans, even bought from a seedy dive like the one he was in, was something he hadn't treated himself to since he'd acquired his soul. When he'd finally had enough, he decided it was time to check on her, knowing she would have been moved back to her own house by now.
Spike leaned against the tree, cigarette dangling between his lips, watching intently as a figure entered and exited from Buffy's room. The small lamp at her bedside left just enough light through the blinds to expose the outline of the area. He took one last drag on the butt and tossed it aside with the ten others already littering the ground beside him. He snorted, remembering times past when he'd stood in this very spot, wasting countless nights just to catch a stolen glimpse of the slayer in her window. 'The more things change, the more they stay the same' he thought to himself as he lit the next cigarette from the pack. He passed the time contemplating whether to sneak up to her window, or burst through the front door, fist and fangs flying if need be.
He paced impatiently back and forth, wearing a path in the grass beside the tree. It had been an hour and he was getting antsy, patience not being one of his strongest virtues. Finally, without a plan, the decision was made and his feet were carrying him up the porch steps to the door. If he had to face them, he would go in like a man, not a ponce who hid in shadows with his tail between his legs. Big Bad façade in place, he slammed the door open with a thud and stepped through. Glancing left and right, he dropped his guard when he realized no one was there to greet him. He stood silently, listening for any sounds that would indicate where the others might be. The house was quiet, the only noise coming from the low hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Without thought, he slowly made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached the closed door of Buffy's room. Placing his hand on the knob, he stopped, hearing the distinct click of a weapon behind him.
"What do you think you're doing, Spike?" Giles demanded. His voice was threatening, anger expressed in every word.
Spike swirled around, catching the sight of the crossbow aimed directly toward his chest. His glance fell from the wooden arrow to the man holding it.
"I asked you a question."
"Just checking on her, Rupert. Needed to see she was okay. Would you put that bloody thing away?!" He was unnerved by the bow so close. One wrong move... a twitch of a finger.
"No... I won't. And you've done enough. You need to leave while I'm feeling courteous."
"Don't do me any favors. And don't think I'm going to fall for this bleeding hero crap, either. We both know you won't do it." Spike took a step forward, challenging Giles' resolve.
"Don't be so sure, Spike. I've needed less reason to kill your kind."
Spike's eyes widened. "And what is that, mate? What is my kind?"
Giles passed it off, repositioning his finger on the trigger. "What were you trying to do, Spike? Drain her? Kill her? Just couldn't resist, could you? I should have known you'd strike when she was down...vulnerable. I always knew we couldn't trust you."
Spike's felt the rage in the pit of his stomach, building with every word Giles threw at him. He was trying to hold back, trying to prove he could control the demon inside. He clenched his jaw, keeping the anger at bay as Giles continued his rant.
"Buffy was stupid not to have taken care of you long ago. She was blind to what you really are. I've read the books... the watcher's accounts. I know what you're capable of. You think this thing you have... this obsession with Buffy, changes what you are or what you've done?"
Spike finally decided he'd taken enough. With lightening speed, the crossbow was ripped from Giles' hands and throw across the hallway. A low growl emitted from the vampire, now pressed up against the other man, holding him tightly against the wall.
Spike began to speak, a low menacing tone of warning. "You've bloody well had it in for me from the start. Didn't matter what I did... how many times I saved you, helped in the fight. Never enough for any one of you. It's time for you to get something straight. I. Don't. Kill. Humans. Not anymore." He let go of his grip, stepping back to allow the other man some room to breathe.
"So you went after the one person you could bite. You don't kill because of that chip in your head. That's not redemption. Without it controlling you, we would have been dead years ago."
"You might have been. But that was before. Things are different now. I've changed."
"Why? Because of the soul? I didn't see it doing you a lot of good this morning."
"What's between the slayer and me is none of your concern. You don't know what happened, so I suggest you sod off."
Giles crossed his arms in front of him, leaning casually against the wall. "Why don't you enlighten me, Spike. Explain it to me so I understand."
"Yeah. I'd like to hear this too."
Spike and Giles turned, both shocked at the interruption from behind them. Buffy was standing, weakly leaning against the doorframe, staring at the arguing pair.
"Buffy! You shouldn't be out of bed! You're weak," Giles demanded, rushing over to her, letting her grab onto him for support.
"I need to talk to Spike."
" I don't think..."
She cut him off, glancing at Spike who was still mesmerized by her appearance. "Giles....let me handle this." She turned, strength escaping her as she made her way back into the room, gesturing for the vampire to follow.
Spike passed by Giles, entering her room, much to the dismay of the watcher. Once inside, he stood, hands in the pockets of his coat, watching as she lay back down on the bed.
"Close the door. We need to talk."
He obeyed and closed the door, leaving Giles alone in the hallway. Turning back around, trying not to get too close, his gaze focused on her body and the several bandages adorning it in various places. His eyes traveled upward and finally rested on her neck.
He then met her eyes, anticipating her reaction to his being there. He continued to stare, even as he watched her hand slip the white gauze away from her neck, pushing her hair back out of the way.
She tilted her head, exposing the area he'd been tempted by earlier. "Is this why you're here? Is this what you want?" Her voice was sugary and inviting, almost begging for him to say yes.
The urge was powerful, knowing the intoxicating effect her blood had on him. She was tempting the demon, not realizing the struggle it was causing inside of him. He stepped back, almost tripping over his own feet, shock and confusion coursing through him. She let her hair go, allowing it to fall back in place. "That's what I thought."
Raising an eyebrow, he remained silent.
"I remember it, Spike. All of it."
"Buffy... I never meant..."
She didn't let him finish before she interrupted. "I remember you talking to me. I knew you were there. I could hear everything you were saying." She gazed into his eyes, trying to determine the mood in the blue orbs staring back at her. "But there was something else... another person. I thought I heard you talking to someone else."
"I was, luv. As daft as it may sound, Drusilla was there, talking to me... convincing me that I was gonna loose you. I was bloody stupid, Buffy. I just couldn't stand the thought..." He looked away, not wanting her to notice the tears he was trying to push back.
"The First."
He nodded in agreement, gaining control over his emotions. "It got a hold of me. Made me want to..." He gestured toward her, afraid to say the words out loud.
"You were gonna kill me?" Her eyes widened, waiting for an answer.
"No. That's not what it wanted. It didn't want you dead, luv. It wanted you alive. Well, sort of." He again lost the courage to look at her, instead focusing anywhere but where she was.
Realization set in, and understanding took over her features. "So... you were gonna turn me." Her voice was gentle. Too gentle for the subject they were speaking about. Surprisingly, he neither felt nor heard any anger from her.
"I'd never... I couldn't."
She began rubbing the healing mark, unaware that she was doing so. "Was it hard? To stop?" she asked.
His head snapped up, eyes squinting in disbelief. "Buffy... don't ask me that." His tone was harsh, almost scolding.
"I want to know. I need to know what it was like... for you."
"No... you don't." A look of annoyance was settled on his face. "Believe me, slayer. It's best if we just leave it alone. Forget it."
Pointing toward her neck, she shook her head. "Gonna be kinda hard to do that. Don't you think?"
The guilty feeling tried stepping up to the forefront again, but Spike pushed it away, instead putting himself on the defense.
"You wanna hear how I enjoyed it? Felt you under me, tasted your blood and didn't want to stop until I took every bit of it? Is that what you want to hear?!"
She tried not to let him intimidate her, knowing it was his intention to make her want to change the subject. She wouldn't let him.
"It's what I want to hear if it's the truth."
He sighed when he realized he wasn't getting out of it. "Vampire, remember? What do you think?!"
She looked at him calmly, not paying attention to the sarcasm in his question. "I think you wanted it. I think you've always wanted it."
"Is that so?" He pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and waited for her reply.
"It's in your nature, Spike. I've never forgotten that. It's what you are. But I also know you never tried to act on it, even after you found out you could. That's the part I always had a hard time remembering. I accused you of a lot of things. Of being a monster when you changed everything not to be."
"It's in the past, luv."
"No. It's not. It's always here... between us. I'm sorry for treating you like I did. I never even considered how hard it was for you to control it. You could have had that one good day you were looking for, and you didn't."
"But this morning..."
"This morning, you could have killed me. You fought back and let the man overpower what the demon craved. That took guts. More strength than I would have had if I were in your place. Especially with The First there. I just wanted you to know I understand. I don't blame you."
He took it all in, and moved closer, sitting on the bed beside her when she acknowledged it was okay.
"Buffy... I never would have hurt you. I was just confused... afraid. I wasn't thinking straight. You have to believe it would never happen again."
"I know, Spike, and I do. The First has a way of using things. Twisting them. I know that. I've seen what it can do."
"You keep saying that. What did it do to you?"
"I told you it appears usually in the form of someone you want to see. Well... I saw you. You'd been gone so long and I was afraid something had happened to you. Not knowing was killing me. The First showed up, looking like you, and I was so relieved. But then I realized something was wrong. It said things. Did things. Then I knew....."
"What kind of things? Did it hurt you?" His voice was angry and protective.
"No, Spike. It just made me realize how much I wanted you to come back. How much I needed you here. There was so much I wanted to apologize for."
"I'm sorry, luv. Had some things to work through. Never intended to come back here. Didn't want to face you."
"I thought you loved me." Her eyes were hopeful, but full of pain knowing he'd tried to stay away from her.
"You know I do. It's not a question of that. I've just done so much, Buffy. Things I have a hard enough time dealing with without troubling you about them. You deserve something better."
"What, are you taking lessons from Angel now? Angel, Giles, now you? Everyone always knows what's best for me! How about what I want?"
"What is it you want, pet? You're never very clear on that. I only seem to recall you wanting one thing from me. And I never denied you that, because you wouldn't allow more."
She closed her eyes, settling back into her pillow. It was now or never.
"I want you, Spike. I want you to love me the way you used to. As much as I tried to deny it, I always saw it in your eyes. Now when you look at me, I see pain... and regret. I don't want you to look at me like that anymore."
"You want me how? As your lapdog? Someone to chase you around so you can feel wanted?"
"I want you to love me so I can love you back."
He was stunned hearing the words escape her lips. For three years he'd dreamt of the moment when she would say she loved him. It felt surreal and conflicting at the same time. His gaze melted into hers when he felt her reach out, taking his hand in hers.
"We need to think about this, Buffy." He almost couldn't believe the words he was saying. They flowed out without any rhyme or reason. Well, reason maybe.
"I'm done thinking, Spike. I'm tired of denying what I feel just because I'm afraid. I heard what you said to me earlier. You said we had a connection. And we do. And it does burn. But that's what makes it so good."
"There's other things to consider, luv. Other obstacles." He still couldn't believe he was fighting her. She was offering herself the way he'd always wanted. Why was he making excuses?
"Kitara?" she asked, annoyed having to speak her name.
"For one."
"You don't love her, Spike. I know it. Stop trying to convince yourself she's what you need. Believe me, you don't need her."
"Your friends. Your watcher. Can't see anyone being too happy about it." 'Shut up, Spike. What are you doing?!' the voice in his head screamed.
"I can deal with them."
"What if we can't do it without resorting back to the way things were? We weren't good for each other. You know it."
"We can be. We've both changed. I want you, you want me... it's that simple."
He made a gesture to open his mouth but she pulled him toward her instead, cutting him off.
"Just shut up and kiss me, Spike."
He sighed heavily, the battle lost, and he smiled. A smile years overdue. He slowly reached her lips, gently spreading them with his own, before relishing in the softness of the kiss. Tender and slow, built on love and intimacy instead of the urgency and desperation they'd previously know.
"I'm tired, Spike. I need to sleep. Will you stay here with me?"
"No place I'd rather be, luv."
He stood up, stripping out of his duster, throwing it over the chair beside them. He took his place, lying along side of her, letting her feel the love in his embrace. Realizing it was the first time she'd actually allowed him to hold her, he wrapped his arm even tighter, pushing his body closer against hers. He watched intently as she drifted off. He chuckled softly to himself recalling the day's events. If he'd known it would turn out this way, he would have bitten her a long time ago. He shook his head at the amusing thought and relaxed, allowing himself to join her in sleep.
TBC