Confession and Trust

Spike and Buffy were back in their London apartment no more than five minutes when Buffy stepped on broken glass that was lying in their hallway – having originally formed part of their hallway mirror. At her yelp Dawn came running out of the living room full of apologies.

"Sorry!" she said, genuinely, "Was just about to pick that up."

"It's okay," the Slayer insisted, through gritted teeth, as she pulled the larger fragments out of her foot using her fingers, "Will teach me to wear sandals in February."

Spike was livid. "It's not bloody okay," he shouted – face red with fury.

Both girls flinched at the uncharacteristic anger in his voice.

"Could've really hurt her," he continued. "Thought we told you to be careful, Dawn?!"

"Spike, calm down," Buffy urged him, "It's really okay. I'm okay."

"You didn't need to yell," Dawn blurted, with tears forming in her eyes, "I didn't mean to, honest. It was an accident."

At that point Giles walked through the front door, carrying a dustpan and brush. "What's the shouting about," he asked, eyeing Spike, "I could hear you the whole way downstairs."

Guilt washed over the ex-vampire for snapping so extremely. "'m sorry," he said, at first to no-one in particular, then repeated his apology specifically to Dawn, but she walked away from him, back into the living room.

"What the hell was that?" Buffy asked him, with a firm glare, "Why so harsh?"

He was speechless. So she shook her head and followed her sister.

Dawn helped Buffy to the couch and handed her a first aid kit, sniffling all the while.

"He shouldn't have lost it like that," said Buffy, softly, tucking a lose strand of Dawn's hair behind her ear, "I don't know what got into him, but I'll deal with it later. Are you okay?"

Dawn nodded. "I'm sorry I messed up."

"Hey, how many times do I gotta tall ya? It's okay,"

Both sisters forced a smile.

"Help me get this last bit out, would you?"

Giles and Spike remained stood in the hallway.

Spike had his head down, half trying to think of a way to explain his outburst, and half trying to stop himself from having a second one.

"Do you still crave blood?" Giles asked him, outright.

"What?!" he exclaimed, in shock. "That's not what this… It's not about- I haven't touched a drop!"

The Watcher remained calm. "That's not what I asked," he pointed out, before repeating the question.

Spike pouted and hung his head again, silently telling him all he needed to know.

"Buffy?" Giles called into the other room, "Could we speak with you a moment?"

The now bandaged Slayer limped out into the hallway again. "What's going on?" she asked, suspiciously glancing between her father figure and her husband.

Spike's eyes grew wide, wondering just how she was gonna react to this little revelation.

"It seems Spike overreacted because you were bleeding," Giles explained.

"Huh?" came the response.

"I… uh, blood" said Spike, scratching his head, unwilling to meet her eyes. "Don't need the stuff, anymore. But I do desire it. Well, not all blood exactly. Yours, exactly. It kinda sets me off."

The Slayer had a quizzical look, "Again I say huh?"

"Sorry, Baby, I should have told you. Didn't exactly know at first, and then I hoped it would, y'know…"

"Go away? Not come up?" she finished the sentence for him.

"Well, yeah," he said, looking downcast.

"Right," she nodded, before looking at Giles, "I think I need a talk with my husband. Could you take Dawn home, make sure she's okay?"

Giles looked concerned but said nothing – simply handed her the dustpan and lifted his coat.

"Dawn," Buffy called to her sister, "Giles is going. Spike's not feeling very well."

The teenager appeared at the doorway, "What's wrong?" she asked, with a small shake in her voice.

"Nothing big. He'll be fine," Buffy reassured her, "Got a problem, but we'll fix it and it'll be okay; Nothing to worry about."

"Spike?" said Dawn, wanting to hear confirmation from the horse's mouth.

"Never gonna yell at you again, Niblet," he told her, before asking, "Forgive a stupid old man who doesn't deserve it?"

"Yeah," she agreed, "If you can forgive the mirror, and the blood."

Spike winced at the reminder of Buffy's injury he didn't need. "Course I forgive you," he ground out.

"I'll call you later," said Buffy, drawing her sister's attention back to herself.

"Giles," she continued, taking hold of her Watcher's arm and guiding him to the front door, "I trust you'll research, or something." Whispering she added, "Don't say anything to her. And don't worry."

Giles gave her a look that spoke volumes, but she ignored it, speaking loudly again, "Okay, have fun. Don't have too much ice cream."

"We're getting ice cream?" said Dawn, almost cheerily, as Buffy closed the door behind her.

When Buffy and Spike were alone they took a moment to just look at each other.

Finally the Slayer took a deep breath, before telling him, "I really wish you'd said something before. But I meant what I said, we'll deal."

He had a look in his eyes that Buffy had became well acquainted with – one of awe.

"I'm gonna make tea," she continued, moving past him, "Why don't you pick up the rest of the glass?"

Spike reached out to her, and she folded into his embrace. There was so much he could say; that he wanted to say, but somehow it wasn't necessary. Eventually the hug ended and they went about their tasks.

Spike drank his tea as Buffy unpacked the large backpack they'd taken to Scotland with them. She could feel him staring at her, and after a while it became too much. Turning to face him she asked, "Is the smell still bothering you?"

He shook his head, "The fact that we're not talking about this is bothering me. Buffy, the last thing I want to do is upset you."

She sighed, "I'm not upset with you, I'm just trying to figure you out."

"'m not hiding anything else. There's nothing more to it than what you know."

"That's not what I meant. I know you don't understand what's going on – why you want my blood. But somebody somewhere must know, and I want to find out. It's not your fault, you know I don't hold it against you, right?"

Spike breathed a sigh of relief, before saying, "Right".

She looked at him intently, "You thought I was mad at you?"

"Well, yeah. Wouldn't blame you."

"Spike, this is not your fault. You didn't ask for the desire and, yeah, telling me before now would have been a smart idea, because maybe we could have avoided the little scene we had, but in the grand scheme of things it's not unforgivable."

"What if I'm a monster? I fought to get rid of that side of me, for you. And what if it was all for nothing?"

She put down the laundry she was holding and walked over to him, placing a hand softly on his cheek, "Then I wouldn't care, you're still you and I love you."

"Buffy, I-"

"Shh," she said, cutting him off, "I love you. Let's just go to bed, I gotta be up early for work."

In the morning Spike tried to raise the subject again, but Buffy shrugged it off.

"We can talk about it when I get home. Then we'll get Giles round, see if he's got any info. In the meantime you are not going to worry, got it?"

"Yes m'am," he agreed.

When she walked in their front door later that day she found him pacing.

"This is what not worrying looks like?"

"I, uh… yeah. Sorry."

Buffy rolled her eyes and set down her handbag. "You weren't worried before I knew, why is it suddenly panic worthy?"

"I never almost bit off Niblet's head before, did I?"

Buffy smiled at him.

"What?"

"You, feeling guilty for making someone else upset. It just shows how far you've come. Monster indeed."

"Didn't like upsetting Summers women while I was still a vampire, if you'll remember," he replied.

"I remember," she affirmed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Spike glanced at her bandaged wrist. "Dressing needs changed."

Buffy frowned. "You can smell my tattoo healing? Wait, that's why you went outside while I got it done?"

He hung his head. "Spike!" she admonished, gently.

"I know, I know, I should have said something. I'm sorry."

"I know you are," she said, withdrawing her arms and kissing him.

While Buffy was washing up in their en-suite she called out to Spike, who was sitting on their bed.

"When did you first discover the blood thing anyway?" she asked him.

There was silence.

"Spike?"

"Bloody hell."

"What?" she said, popping her head around the door.

"Do I have to admit it? You'll probably slap me."

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Cause it's gross," he said, mimicking her voice, "Or so you'd think. Seems perfectly natural to me now."

Silently she waited for him to continue.

With a deep sigh he admitted, "The first time you got your monthlies, alright?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, come on. Let's be having that slap."

"I'm not going to slap you."

He considered that, saying, "You are taking this whole thing better than expected."

"Better than you," she teased, re-wrapping her tattoo and joining him on the bed. "I totally don't want this to be the only thing we talk about all day, but I've been thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you want my blood there must be a reason, right?"

"I guess."

"The powers that screw up people's lives destined you to become human, from the beginning of time, it seems, if that prophecy is anything to go by,"

He nodded, smirking slightly at the levity in her tone, as she continued.

"And so I'm thinking the P.T.S.U.P.L.-"

"P.T.B., luv, it's easier to say."

"Fine," she allowed, cuddling into him, "The PTB must have allowed you to keep some of your abilities, and they must have allowed this too, so logically they'll have a purpose for it, which means it's good."

"I'm not sure it's that simple."

"Okay, probably not – never is with them – but still, I think the basic theory holds water, whatever that means. I do think there's a good reason for your desire, and maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe it's that they want us to claim each other, like you said. It could be like their gift to us."

Spike was shocked, "Be a hell of a gift, pet. Wish they'd left a tag on it."

"You don't think it's possible?"

He sighed, "I don't know. Let's see what Rupes has to say."

Rupert Giles was appalled by Buffy's theory.

"I cannot imagine for one minute that the Powers that Be would ever allow such an activity, let alone endorse it," he said.

"No Giles," Buffy insisted, "I've thought about this. It's the only explanation that makes any sense. I don't know the details but I know I'm right about this. Unless your books say otherwise?"

The Watcher clamped his mouth shut at the question.

"As I thought."

"Cuppa tea?" Spike asked the fellow Englishman, in a bid to break the tension.

Giles ignored him, and Buffy continued.

"I don't know how it's going to work, with him being all non-fangy these days, but there must be a way."

"Wait, Buffy, you're seriously planning out the practicalities of this without more information? That strikes me as extremely reckless. I expected better from you."

The Slayer frowned – equal parts hurt and angered by the words of her father figure.

Spike traced circles in the skin of her lower back using the pad of his thumb, to relieve a bit of her tension.

"We're doing this," Buffy told Giles, point blank, "Even if it's not the right answer I'm sure it wouldn't hurt."

"Wouldn't hurt?!"

"Figuratively speaking. I see no bad coming from us being mated."

"Then that shows how truly blind you are!"

"Oi, watch it, Rupert," Spike warned.

The Watcher turned to him, asking, "What exactly have you told her? Sold her some romantic fantasy about such an unnatural act, no doubt."

Spike was beginning to get angry, "I said watch it."

"I know what I'm getting myself into, Giles. And it was my idea. You know what? I don't deserve to have my judgment questioned. Remember how well that's gone for you in the past? Should be thankful I'm even letting you in on this at all."

He was stung by her words, but it didn't change his opinion.

"I can't stop you from doing what you want," he began, to which Spike snorted. "If you don't respect my opinion then perhaps I'll stop providing it."

"There's a difference between respecting your opinion and following it," said Buffy, exasperated.

Giles shook his head in resignation, took a final look at her and then exited the apartment without another word.

When Spike turned Buffy around to face him her eyes flooded with tears.

"He left," she stuttered, "Oh god, he just left."

"Oh, Buffy," he soothed, holding her close.

To be continued...