Before anything else, I'd like to thank my two wonderful betas: Splishysplashy for her constant support, incredible editing skills and unmatched patience. Thanks for sticking with me even though it takes me ages to write. And to BiggiePanda for our late night brainstorming sessions, so helpful suggestions and her perfect impersonation of Anya that was an inspiration for this work. Also I wanted to give special thanks to MillennialCryBaby for the amazing banner she did for that story!
This is my first Spuffy story and english isn't my native language, but I hope you'll enjoy nonetheless.
The first thing Buffy's drowsy brain registered as she woke up was that she was alone. She didn't need to open her eyes nor turn to his side of the bed to know. Her vampire tinglies were painfully silent, and the lack of his strong body loosely curled around hers made her ache for him in ways she was terrified to acknowledge. They had only spent three nights together, yet it felt like she would never wake up again without feeling the pain of his loss.
She missed him.
She missed the way his love seemed to pour out with every touch, every smile, every small blissful sigh he let out whenever she snuggled closer. She missed the way their bodies fit just right together, the way she felt complete and whole whenever she was in his arms.
The lump already in her throat grew to an alarming size at the thought that he was well and truly gone. Knowing she would never again see the unconditional love and devotion in his eyes when he looked at her or enjoy the easy banter between them made her feel so forlorn and empty; it was like a part of her had died along with him.
Buffy took a deep, trembling breath in an attempt to calm down. She never thought she'd miss him that much. He was cocky, infuriating, and the biggest dope in the world, but… but the more time she had spent with him, the more she had been growing fond of the man he had become. To the point that she had started seriously considering the possibility of a them . Even hinted at it several times to him. And despite her crazy mixed signals, the last time she did, he'd actually hinted back.
Buffy woke up curled against his chest with an overwhelming feeling of inner peace. It was unbelievable how strong and grounded his embrace could make her feel, even hours from possible world endage. She wished she could just call off the whole thing and stay in the comfort of his arms forever.
Her hand slipped into his and she stroked his skin tenderly. A lazy grin tugged at her lips when his fingers mimicked hers.
He was awake.
"I could get used to this," she murmured, absently toying with his hand.
His shaky breath told her just how much her words meant to him.
"Me too, luv," he rumbled, and she could hear the awestruck smile in his voice.
Buffy nuzzled at his neck and let her lips gently brush his skin as she asked, "Still terrified?"
His arm tightened around her waist and he breathed into her hair.
"Not for much longer if you keep sweet talkin' me like that, baby."
She chuckled and her heart swelled with bliss.
Yeah. She definitely could get used to this.
That morning had been the first time they'd woken up together, all tangled limbs and hearts, affection flowing so naturally between them you'd think they had been a couple for years. That's when she realized that even without all the crazy hot sex, they could be pretty darn great together.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was hugging her pillow tight enough to break bones. She just wished he'd known how much he meant to her. It killed her inside knowing he died so convinced she would never love him that he denied it when she finally told him.
A single tear slowly rolled down her cheek. She couldn't even be mad at him for that. Not after she had kissed Angel just when they were getting close, and especially not considering she was just starting to realize herself she might have meant it after all.
A few more silent tears escaped her eyes. She wished they'd had the chance to find out what they could have been like as a couple. It would have taken some time, but judging by their final days together, they had been heading towards something meant to last. Not just the fairytale romance every girl dreams of, or the fiery passion of young lovers, but a true partnership. As equals.
Buffy turned around and dried her tears in a hurry when she heard her sister stir in the bed next to hers. She just wanted to pretend this was all a nightmare and go back to sleep with the hope that she'd wake up snugly tucked against his chest, but she couldn't take the risk of Dawn seeing her like that. She wouldn't understand. Buffy actually doubted anyone would, really.
Ironically, Xander was the only one that might. He was pretty devastated himself over losing Anya, and had seemed less hostile towards Spike, especially near the end. Maybe one day she'd gather the courage to confide in him…
In the meantime, she swiftly got out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom, shivering at how cold the tile floor felt under her bare feet. Almost as cold as the way she felt inside…
They had the Hyperion to themselves, courtesy of Angel - who had seemed more distraught at them returning without the amulet than at the mention of the losses they had suffered. She'd been so on edge that she had wanted to punch him right then, especially when he had piped in about the sleeping arrangements at the hotel. Thankfully, Faith knew how to take a hint and had snatched up Angel's old suite for herself before his not-so-subtle 'advice' about Buffy sleeping in there earned him a beating. The last thing she needed while mourning Spike was to be surrounded by Angel's things.
In the end, she had claimed another suite on the same floor with two double beds to share with Dawn. The wall between the bedroom and the living area had been partly ripped off, but the front door and windows were still intact, and there was electricity and running water, which couldn't be said for all the rooms in there…
She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and started to unwrap the bandages around her middle. She needed to get ready for the day, starting with a long, hot shower. No matter how hard the grief was hitting her, she had to go out there and face whatever was next.
Despite their new powers, it seemed most of the girls were still looking up to her for guidance, and she wouldn't let them down. The fact that she'd have an excuse to pummel a punching bag into oblivion - for the sake of demonstration, of course - was just a nice bonus. She desperately needed to hit something.
The day before had been a blur of tending to everyone's wounds, discussing what came next, and getting settled at the Hyperion. It was weird how a part of her had been expecting Spike to just stroll in, cheeky grin in place, and start teasing her about abandoning him under a pile of rubble.
She had actually asked Willow for a locator spell to make sure he wasn't buried somewhere within Sunnydale crater. But even after the spell confirmed his demise, the feeling that he was still around and on his way to find her lingered. He'd always come back, whether she wanted him around or not. And obviously , he had to dust the moment he was starting to worm his way into her heart, after being nothing but a nuisance to her ever since the day they met. She hated the irony of it all.
He'd been given a hundred plus years causing bloodshed as a demon, and the moment he'd started to change for the better and atone for it, he had to die for the greater good. It was so unfair…
Another glimpse at the mirror told her she had started crying again. God, she was such a mess she hadn't even noticed. This time, Buffy let the tears come out and the sobs shake her body for a moment, folding in on herself miserably over the sink. With any luck, she'd cry herself dry now and wouldn't break down in front of anyone later today.
After a few minutes, she pulled herself together again, and she had just started wiping her tears with a towel when her breath caught in her throat. Startled, she dropped the fabric and stared in disbelief at her left hand, which had just erupted into flames before her very eyes. Under normal circumstances she would have freaked out big time, but she recognized the warm tingle of his soul laid bare against her skin. Spike's soul. She could almost feel his presence.
Before she had time to allow herself the smallest sliver of hope, the flames disappeared and the Amulet - Spike's amulet - materialized in her palm. She dropped it in surprise, and a whirlwind of thick black fog and magic erupted from it.
Buffy held her breath as she could make out a humanoid shape appearing in the midst of the raging magic. All her instincts were telling her it was him finally coming back to her, but she didn't dare believe it. Anything else would break her if she did.
Thankfully, it didn't take long for her instincts to be proven right. A few seconds later, Spike was right there in front of her, screaming in agony while his body was being reassembled. He snapped his mouth shut once he was whole again and his eyes flew to her.
"Buffy," he breathed out, eyes wide from the shock.
"S-Spike?" she gasped, stunned beyond words.
Her hands reached out to touch his chest, as though she was making sure she wasn't dreaming. Or being messed with by the First. He was supposed to be gone, wasn't he?
"It's me, luv," the vampire confirmed quietly when her fingers found him to be solid indeed.
"Oh my god," she choked out, before tackling him into a fierce hug.
He returned the embrace with the same intensity, his heart swelling, his soul throbbing so hard in his dead body he could have sworn his heart had started beating again.
His soul.
It was there alright, but it felt... kinda strange. Although, considering what had happened in the Hellmouth, it wouldn't really surprise him if it felt a bit wonky for a while. He never thought he'd ever be that scared to lose the source of the agonizing guilt constantly burning in his chest, but when the amulet had basically tugged it out of him, he'd been terrified the damn thing was done for.
But nope. Somehow they'd both made it back, and Buffy being here meant his sacrifice hadn't been in vain. He'd saved her. That was the only thing that truly mattered to him in the end, selfish sod that he was. He just wanted her to live, keep defying the odds and all but spit in the face of whatever sodding cunt had decided that slayers were coming with such a bloody short expiration date.
He inhaled deeply, taking her in, until he recognised the coppery scent of blood, and his eyes followed the smell to the pile of reddish bandages lying on the floor.
"You're hurt?" He asked, unable to hide his worry.
He started pulling back - no doubt to check her for injuries - but she wasn't ready to let go just yet. He was here. Really here . She tightened her grip on him and he caved in, squeezing back just as hard.
"Don't worry. It's almost healed," she replied, reveling in the feel of his body against hers. "Yay for Slayer metabolism."
Slayer metabolism and the temporary healing boost Willow had managed to weave into the spell she'd cast with the Scythe, allowing them to power through any non-fatal injuries during the battle. It hadn't helped many of the girls, but Rona and herself would have died without it. Buffy wasn't in the mood to go into details right now though, so she made a mental note to catch him up on that part later and focused on enjoying the moment.
"Dawnie and the others alright? The girls?" he asked warily, hoping against hope the Nibblet and Buffy's scoobies were fine at the very least.
He knew just how much it would hurt her to lose any of them.
"Anya died saving Andrew. Only seven of the girls made it."
He stroked her back, hoping to convey how deeply sorry he was at the news. It could have been much worse, but he knew any death at all was still too many for her.
"I'm so glad you're back," Buffy whispered into his neck, voice heavy with relief.
The words had just slipped out without her consent, but she couldn't bring herself to regret them. It was the truth, and after dying to save the world, he deserved nothing less, even if that meant lowering her walls a bit.
"Buffy? Everything alright? I heard screaming." Dawn's worried voice rang from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Give me a minute."
Spike could feel her body relax against his as she took a few deep breaths. She pulled away slightly once her heart rate had slowed down a bit, just enough to look at him.
"You saved the world, Spike," she said fondly, cupping his cheek.
His soul - his love for her - saved the world. She was so proud of him. Hopefully he could see it in her eyes.
" You saved me ," he whispered in the same reverent tone, leaning into her hand.
They exchanged a soft smile, and before she knew what she was doing, she was leaning forward ever so slightly.
Fortunately, a pounding on the door helped her come back to her senses and she leaned back, avoiding his eyes. She'd been about to kiss him, and the most unsettling part was that it had seemed like the obvious thing to do. In fact, it had seemed just as normal as breathing.
Buffy took a deep breath, hoping to get her spiraling emotions under control. Things were just too overwhelming right now, and she knew she wasn't thinking straight. Everything in her had been yearning for him ever since she woke up, and now he was right there, holding her.
Her treacherous heart wanted to kiss the living daylights out of him - at least until the mind-boggling feeling of relief tingling her insides decided to calm the fuck down - but it wouldn't be fair to him. The last time she went down that road with him, they'd made a giant mess of things, and she'd be damned if she let that happen again.
Oh, she did want to give their relationship a shot, but more than that, she wanted to do this properly. That meant shoving back the raw need to maul his lips. For now. Between him being back and the rush of the last few days, her feelings seemed all over the place, and ever since he got his soul, she sometimes felt like she didn't know him anymore.
It seemed to her that the best way to go about this was just to pause things where they were until her life was somewhat under control. Until she'd had the chance to get to know the new him a bit better.
Yes. Where they were was good. It was a cozy place right on the line between friendship and romance, and he was clearly enjoying it just as much as she did. They could stay there a while. She would just have to avoid any more mixed signals. Maybe have a word with him about her intentions.
"Buffy? I'm pretty sure it's been more than a minute!" Dawn called impatiently.
The slayer rolled her eyes while Spike smirked, and she reluctantly moved out of his arms to open the bathroom door for her brat of a sister.
"Guess who decided he was too obnoxious to stay dust?" Buffy announced, making him snort in amusement.
Dawn's face lit up in delight for a split second when she saw the vampire, until she seemingly remembered she hated him.
"Oh. It's you." She muttered, displeasure evident on her face.
Spike clenched his jaw slightly to hide his hurt. His relationship with Dawn had been strained ever since he came back to Sunnydale. Buffy must have filled her in on what he did just before he left to get his soul.
It was for the best, really. It was about time the Nibblet understood how dangerous a monster he could be, no matter how much it had hurt to face the loathing and betrayal in the eyes of the only person who had always believed in him.
He gave her a sad smile. "Sorry to disappoint, Nibblet."
He averted his gaze almost instantly to look at their surroundings and missed her expression softening into a tiny smile.
"So where are we, anyway? Gonna fill me in on what happened? Couldn't have been gone that long, right?"
Buffy had briefly explained the situation to him, before kicking them both out of the bathroom to wake herself up properly with her morning shower.
Spike was now sitting at the foot of Buffy's bed, taking in his surroundings while absently toying with the amulet in his hands. The room was in a bit of a rough shape, what with the half demolished wall separating the beds and en-suite bathroom with the rest of the place. He could see a kitchen area on the other side with a round table and four chairs. The furniture was scarce and looked like it had been out of fashion for the last century or so, but the place seemed clean enough, even for humans. He thought he'd glimpsed a balcony as well, before the Nibblet had drawn the thick curtains with a great deal of huffing and puffing. She'd seemed so brassed off that he hadn't had the heart to tell her there was no need, since the large windows were West facing and it was nearing mid morning.
Speaking of, Dawn was now leaning against the wall a few feet away. He could feel the girl's eyes on him. Could hear her heartbeat thumping in anticipation. She was either looking for the right words to say or gathering the courage to breach an uncomfortable topic. Knowing her, he'd bet on the latter. The Nibblet had never been one to beat around the bush when it came to uncovering hard truths. That was one of the things he'd always liked about her.
"You have questions." The vampire prodded when he couldn't take the uncomfortable silence anymore.
He finally met her eyes. She looked as fierce as ever, and it somehow reminded him of Joyce with her axe.
"How are you back?" she demanded, and something told him it wasn't what she had meant to ask at all.
"Dunno." He shrugged. "Thought I was done for."
She nodded absently, her expression just as stern as before.
Speaking of, now that he'd had some time to think, Spike wasn't exactly sure how he felt about being back. Burning up to save the world with the very soul he'd gotten for the woman he loved would have been the perfect exit after three wonderful nights with her.
He knew he would die and had had time to make his peace with it. Hell, he'd been as ready to go as he'd ever been. No more soul burning his insides, no more rejections and heartbreak, only the hope that Buffy could have loved him back eventually, if he'd survived.
He shook his head at his own foolishness. Now that he was back, reality was painfully crashing down on him, along with the accumulated guilt of more than a century of bloodshed and mayhem.
God , he was just so bloody tired.
"What makes you different? Now that you have a soul." Dawn asked a few minutes later.
He tilted his head, genuinely surprised by the question. Hadn't Buffy explained this? Surely she knew, right? On the other hand, his own experience with the soul had been quite different from Angel's, he supposed…
"I can feel , Nibblet. Remorse, guilt, empathy. It's all in there," he said, rubbing at his chest with a wince, "shows me what's good from what's evil."
Dawn frowned suspiciously. "You could do all that without the soul."
Was that what was bugging her, then? That he wasn't all that different from his old self. Was she scared that the soul hadn't changed anything at all and he was just as dangerous as before? From the outside, he supposed it made sense. He had done his very best to hide it, after all.
He was almost ashamed sometimes, to have done something so big - so life-changing - for someone who would never love him back. He didn't exactly regret doing it, but he wished nobody knew. It wasn't as if he deserved to be treated any differently, anyway.
But he could feel it. It did make a difference. His head was clear now.
"I couldn't, really, no. Was mostly just guessing whether or not something would get me in trouble with you or big sis."
"And you didn't think rape would get you in trouble?" she asked bluntly.
He closed his eyes, lowering his head in shame. Of course that's what she'd wanted to get to. She wanted to know what the hell had possessed him to do such a thing to the woman he claimed to love. His insides twisted at the memory. He winced and closed his eyes. Just thinking about it was nearly enough to drive him starkers with remorse again.
Bloody Summers women would be the death of him.
It gave him hope, though, because the little chit wouldn't go through the trouble of breaching such an uncomfortable subject unless she wanted to patch things up between them. Right?
"Well?" she prodded impatiently.
The only problem was that he had no sodding clue how to answer that. How do you tell a girl you never meant to try and rape her sister? How do you convince anyone , really, that you didn't realize what you were doing until it was too late?
"Not sure what you want me to say, bit."
"That you're sorry ?" The girl thundered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if it was even something you could just apologize for.
"Wouldn't make a lick of a difference, though, would it?" he bit back sharply, and he hoped she knew the bitterness in his tone was directed at himself and himself only.
Dawn inwardly groaned. The guy could be so thick, sometimes… honestly, how good was that soul of his if it couldn't even knock some sense into him?
She knew him well enough to have recognised the desperate edge in his voice, though. The particular harshness of his tone - voice almost cracking but not quite - that meant he was stricken with grief and blaming himself. She had witnessed it enough times when they had mourned Buffy together.
Dawn deflated and took a deep, calming breath. There was no use raising her voice when he was like that.
"Maybe," she said quietly. "But it's the first step to being forgiven."
He clenched his jaw at that and became fascinated by the godawful pattern on the wall she was leaning on.
"I don't think I deserve forgiveness, Nibblet," Spike replied, with such hopelessness she wanted to slap him.
Where was the brash, overconfident vampire who taught her to never give up?
"Well, that's not up to you," she retorted, imitating Buffy's commanding tone as best as she could. "You don't get to decide that. Now answer the question."
Spike wasn't sure if it was the direction this conversation was taking or the whole dying to save the world thing, but he was downright knackered.
He let out a heavy sigh and couldn't help but indulge the girl nevertheless.
"Dawn," he started, using her name to try and convey just how serious he was. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cover how I feel."
Hell, the demon had been sorry the moment it snapped out of it - until it came back to its senses, that is, which is exactly what had pushed him to leave town in the first place.
"Swear to me. Swear you won't hurt her like that ever again."
Something inside him roared with fierce determination. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that. He had done the impossible to make sure of it. He wasn't going to let it all be in vain.
"I swear it, Nibblet. I won't. I nearly bloody died getting my soul to make sure I won't."
He knew his words wouldn't be enough, but it hurt nonetheless when Dawn kept looking at him suspiciously.
She didn't believe him.
"How can you be so sure?" she challenged, with the same fire in her eyes she had threatened him with when he first came back to the house with his soul. "Souls don't prevent humans from hurting the ones they love. Why would it be different with vampires?"
He had to admit, he was bloody impressed by her reasoning on the matter. Ever since crossing paths with his wanker grandsire, Buffy and the scoobies had associated soulful vampires with good as opposed to soulless, and that was the end of it. That Dawn was able to rise above the misconceptions of her elders was a testament to how bright and clever the girl really was. A Summers through and through.
And she was right. The soul didn't make him 'good' per se, it was only a tool enabling him to see things from a human perspective. A presence in his mind that challenged everything he thought he knew. It was also true humans didn't always listen to theirs. Some conveniently forgot it was even there.
But that was all the difference. He had craved the answers a soul provided - even if he hadn't realized what he was seeking at the time - and had spent so much time without one, now that he had his own it was simply impossible to ignore. It was a burden, but a burden that lifted him above the darkness. Above what he used to be. Like wings.
He nearly snorted at his own train of thought. Bloody rotten poet's soul , he thought, mentally rolling his eyes.
"Because they take their souls and the ones they love for granted, bit. I don't. Had to fight for my own. Had to fight to earn Buffy's trust. I won't let regular human flaws ruin it all," he promised, his eyes locked to hers.
Even if she didn't believe his words, he hoped she could see the unwavering determination in his eyes this time.
The girl nodded, clenching her jaw, but her expression remained carefully neutral. Spike had just started mulling over what he could add to try and convince her, when she all but threw herself into his arms. It was slightly awkward with him sitting down, so he stood up to return the embrace.
Thankfully, it wasn't their first time hugging, so he at least knew what to do with himself. It had never been quite like this, though. This was quiet and composed, when their previous embraces had been messy and desperate at best, with a great deal of tears, sobs, and snot, as if clinging to each other had been their last resort to try and fill the void created by Buffy's death.
"I'm glad you're back." She confided against his chest.
It felt like his body was warming up from the inside with her sweet words. He closed his eyes and allowed the wave of happiness to wash over him for a moment. He had missed her friendship, the way she would look up to him like the little sister he had lost so long ago, how easy it had been to confide in her, the unconditional trust… a shaky breath left him at the thought. Christ , how badly he had let her down…
After the shitshow that had become his life ever since that last time she had visited his crypt, he had given up hope that they could go back to what they had before. And yet here she was, stoking hope back to life in his undead heart.
"I've missed you, Nibblet," she heard him murmur quietly, like it was some kind of big dirty secret.
The worst part was that she had missed him too. You'd think you'd stop caring about your friends if they behaved badly enough, but it turns out life isn't that easy.
"You were gone for like a day. No need to get all weepy about it," she chided in mock annoyance.
Dawn smirked to herself when she felt him chuckle. She knew he was really talking about that last year, but she'd missed teasing him.
"It felt longer." He said as he pulled back.
For her too.
Dawn looked up and rolled her eyes at his tender expression, but felt she was in a gracious enough mood to refrain from any snarky comments. She knew how he could get all bothered and offended whenever his soft side was mentioned.
She grinned instead, thinking of all the teasing to be done now that he was officially retired from being evil. Oh, and the soul jokes! They wouldn't be as easy as the eye jokes for Xander, but she couldn't wait to try and coax some fancy British swearing out of him. Also, if he thought she had forgotten he owed her lockpicking lessons from that bet about how much garlic he could eat before throwing up, he had another thing coming.
Just like that, she realized their weird friendship was worth another try, and she was about to hurl herself at him again when she noticed Buffy was observing them from the bathroom door frame with a soft smile.
"About time!" She scolded her sister in an attempt to hide how emotional she really was after patching things up with her best friend. "You better not have used all the hot water."
The vampire turned around and his eyes met Buffy's. She looked like she'd been standing there a while. How had he not heard her? Smelled her? He really needed to catch up on his kip if she could just sneak up on him like that.
They both watched Dawn dive into the bathroom enthusiastically, and he scooted over to sit on the side of the bed and somewhat face her, leaving a wide space for her to settle on if she wished, but she didn't move.
"How much did you hear?"
She had heard his promise not to ruin things between them, and the certainty in his voice would have been enough to make her a believer if she wasn't already.
"Not much," she replied, not willing to admit she'd been eavesdropping.
Spike raised an eyebrow at her. That was nice and vague... Oh well, it wasn't as if he had anything to hide from her, anyway. Everything he'd told the Nibblet, he could just as easily have told her sister. He never actually had, though. Maybe he should.
"I'm glad you two made up," Buffy said, interrupting his train of thought. "I know she meant the world to you, even before the soul."
"She does. When you were gone, there were days when walking into the sun would have seemed quite tempting if it hadn't been for her."
Pathetic as it sounded, it was true. Without Buffy and Dawn, he would have had no real anchor to the world, no one to rely on and nothing he truly cared about. He would have become an empty shell, and it wasn't as if the scoobies would have cared all that much if he dusted.
"It's for the best you told her, though. It's about time she saw me for what I am."
"What you were ," Buffy corrected at once, her tone leaving little room for argument, "and I didn't tell anyone. Xander found me there crying, saw your duster, and was all too happy to put two and two together."
He raised an eyebrow at the bitterness in her tone but didn't comment on it. He was too exhausted to investigate the matter further, anyway.
He could only assume that Harris had then been all too happy to tell everyone, as proof that he'd been right all along about Spike. The rub was that the whelp had been right, hadn't he?
"Spike?" She called, before his mind could wander to darker thoughts.
He raised his eyes to hers and tilted his head, intrigued by the sudden vulnerability evident on her face.
"Do you still have it?" she asked, her voice oddly quiet.
It took him a few seconds to understand what she was talking about, but he eventually shoved the amulet in one of the inner pockets of his duster, before pulling Mr. Gordo from another with a tiny smile.
"Can't believe you made me go to battle with that thing." He said fondly as he handed it to her.
"It's just in case I don't make it. Leave a piece of me behind with you." He said, tucking his lighter into her jeans pocket.
"You're sure? What if I'm the one who doesn't make it?"
"Then it won't be the bloody lighter I'll miss, will it?"
She smiled and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.
"Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."
"You're kidding me, right?" He complained, as she offered him Mr. Gordo. "First the tacky jewelry, now this?"
"It's a piece of me. I want you to have it."
He heaved out a long-suffering sigh and slipped Mr. Gordo into his duster.
" Of course it had to be a bloody pig plush. Couldn't have been your knickers or somethin'," he grumbled moodily.
She rolled her eyes but chose to ignore the innuendo. They didn't have time for another round of banter.
"You're a pig yourself. You should get along just fine." She said, to end the discussion.
He snorted in amusement and followed her upstairs to save the world.
Buffy looked down at the plush she was holding, a lump slowly forming in her throat. This was the only thing she had left from their life in Sunnydale. Her home, her things, all gone. The only things that remained were the memories of it all. And Mr. Gordo.
"Thank you for keeping it. He's… He's all I have left of Sunnydale, now."
Her voice was hoarse and heavy with grief. He figured losing the only home, the only life she'd known for the last seven years was quite the blow. After everything she'd done and sacrificed to save the sodding world, the universe had to go and take even more from her. What a bloody joke.
Although, it might have been for the best. Wiping the slate clean - or in this case, the entire fucking hellmouth - meant she finally got to choose what to do with her life, especially with all those new slayers running about. He didn't think she'd ditch the whole thing and scamper off to retire on a sunny beach somewhere, but just having the option to even so much as take a break must be mind-blowing. He wondered briefly if that fact had hit her yet.
"Your chums made it, pet. That's what matters. World's too big for you to rot away babysitting a sodding hellmouth, anyway."
She lowered her gaze and pressed her lips together, before walking to Dawn's bed. She knew he was right, but losing her home had still left a gaping hole in her chest. They would have to find a new place to live, a new purpose, a new life, and it was terrifying. She didn't even know where to start. And naturally, she would be expected to lead and take all the hard decisions again, wouldn't she?
Her lips curved up ever so slightly as she tucked Mr. Gordo in her sister's bed. Spike would be there though, and that fact alone filled her with all kinds of warm feelings. He was her safe haven. Had been for a while, now - as painfully ironic as it was. And if she was to train and live among a bunch of hyperactive teenage girls with newfound superpowers as Giles wanted her to, having Spike by her side might actually be the key to keeping her sanity, she thought with a wry smile.
Buffy came back in front of him and caught his gaze while fishing for his lighter in her jeans pocket. They were wearing matching grins as she produced it, and he caught it easily when she threw it his way.
"Thanks, luv."
Then, something happened that he hadn't experienced in half a century.
He fucking yawned.
The vampire frowned and tensed up. That had felt weird, and definitely didn't help the exhaustion one bit.
Buffy was watching him warily. "Do vampires usually yawn?"
No. No, they did not. Except when they were about to pass out from exhaustion, that is - some kind of human reflex or somewhat. The last time it happened to him he hadn't slept for a week.
"Huh. Not really, no."
Buffy's heart skipped a beat, suddenly remembering the prophecy Cordelia had mentioned to her a few years ago. What was it called? Shinshoe? An ensouled vampire saving the world would be rewarded by becoming human again. What if it had never been meant for Angel? Spike had just saved the world. Using his soul, no less. It certainly fitted the description.
It could also be the reason for him being warmer than usual when she'd hugged him earlier. She had assumed it was a result of being incinerated alive and brought back, but what if it wasn't? Now that she thought about it, he hadn't noticed when she got out of the bathroom. He even asked her about it, when he should have known the exact moment she was out with the super hearing and all. Then, there was the fact that he felt different. Her vampire tinglies weren't chilling her spine as usual. It was still there, but it felt warmer, almost soothing. Safe and familiar.
But surely he would have noticed if he was human. Wouldn't he? Maybe not. She hadn't exactly been all too aware of what was going on with her body immediately after coming back from the dead. Everything had just felt numb and foreign.
God, she had to know. This was so big. She wasn't even sure how she'd feel about it. Her eyes grew into saucers. How would he feel about it? He used to love being a vampire before the soul, didn't he? What about now?
The next second, her hands were on him. She checked his wrist, his neck and his chest, frantically trying to find a pulse, but there was nothing.
"Oi! Quit molesting me, woman!" He yelped vehemently as he jolted to his feet.
"I… I was just... never mind."
The vampire raised an inquiring eyebrow at her, but thankfully didn't push the matter - one of the welcome changes that had come with the soul.
She was just being silly, really. Of course he would have noticed if he was human. The yawn might just be one of his many human quirks taking over due to exhaustion. She figured saving the world, dying and coming back to life in the span of 24 hours had to be pretty taxing, and he did look utterly drained.
"Always welcome to feel me up, luv," he said with a lazy grin. "A bloke might appreciate some warning, though."
Spike watched her roll her eyes with amusement, delighted to have managed to coax yet another one of those genuine smiles from her lips. First in the bathroom and now here. He was on a bloody roll.
"Just go to sleep," she drawled with a playful glint in her eye, "you look like you're about to drop dead."
Alright, the pun was of the lame, but it was true. His shoulders were slightly slumped, as if he didn't have the energy to stand up straight, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like a corpse. Well… more than usual, at least.
"I hope that wasn't meant to be a witty joke, Slayer, because it was bloody terrible."
They exchanged a smirk and he shrugged out of his duster to drape it over the back of the closest chair. Then he looked around the room and turned to her, as if he just realized something. "Hm, where should I-"
"Take my bed," she answered at once, opening the covers for him.
He didn't need the blankets, really, but she knew he liked to feel the weight of it resting over his body while he slept. She had unwillingly picked up on quite a few of those little quirks and sleeping habits of his during their time together last year. Back then, she used to find it all infuriating because they kept reminding her he wasn't just a thing for her to use, but now she just found them shamelessly endearing.
Spike frowned and gave her a long look. It was one thing for her to tag along in his bed, but quite another to invite him in her own. Her bed had always been off-limits. The vampire had expected her to get him settled in another room or something. She did mention the Hyperion was empty apart from their crew. Surely there were tons of rooms available. He wondered if she realized this looked suspiciously like a step - however tiny it was - toward something she'd never been willing to give him.
"Are you sure?" He asked carefully. "I could-"
"Spike," she interrupted with that no-nonsense tone, "just get in the bed, alright?"
Well, he didn't need to be told thrice. Any crumb she would be willing to throw his way, he'd happily catch. The vampire kicked off his boots and lay down under the sheets. But it seemed she wasn't done surprising him today, because he watched in awe as she sat down on the side of the bed.
He had a snarky remark about her tucking him in on the tip of his tongue, but she spoke first. "We'll be off to buy supplies later today. I'll get you some blood."
Spike perked up at that, forgetting all about the banter. "That would be ace. Ta, Slayer."
He shuffled into a more comfortable position and was about to blink out and get some kip, when he realized she was looking at him intently. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head against the pillow.
"Something on your mind, luv?" He asked.
After a few seconds watching him, her expression softened and her mouth curved up slightly. "We… we can rest, now," she whispered, her tone soft and heavy with meaning.
A sharp breath escaped him, halfway between a chuckle and a sob, and he returned her tender smile. He couldn't believe she remembered his desperate plea as the cross was searing into his skin. The mad ramblings of a hopeless creature who had risked everything to change what he was and finally be loved. He would likely never get there, but at least things were mostly ok between them, now. No more fighting, no more using and hurting each other. No more abuse, tricks or lies. And as of today, no more impending apocalypse to abort.
Surrounded by his Slayer's delicious scent lingering in the sheets, Spike's eyelids drooped closed and the last thing he saw before falling asleep was the flicker of affection in her eyes as she looked upon him.
They could rest.
Tell me what you think! I've spent 2+ years reading all your wonderful stories before having the courage to publish mine so I hope it will meet the standard and contribute to the community.
The story is all written and ready to post, so I'll publish a chapter per day. See you all tomorrow for the next chapter!