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Treacle-Antlers
"What do you want me to bloody say?"
She saw his knuckles show white through the skin, his fingers gripping the back of the chair as if he wanted to throttle it, throttle her. For once she was almost glad he didn't have the vampire strength any more. Her Mom had bought that.
"I don't know, all right? Just...try and be OK with this."
God and now the jaw was going. She suppressed the need to roll her eyes at all the macho histrionics, tell him what a fool he was making of himself. But he really was. She got to her feet, moved a step or two towards him, tried to put her hand over his but he jerked back and she felt a sudden flash of exasperated anger,
"Oh for Pete's.....Spike, will you just...."
Shit. She really had to try and remember that. But he was already half way out the door, his face as black and brooding as the vampire's ever was.
"Shoot...I mean...William...will you just listen to me?"
Her hand went out, but he was already out of there and if he'd still had the coat she guessed that it would have been swirling in his wake. God, why was he was so mad? What had she done to make him so mad? The front door slammed shut knocking her Mom's portrait off the wall and she shook her head in total disbelief. Typical. This was A-Grade Spike and she had so thought this wasn't the sort of thing she was going to have to deal with any more. She walked slowly back down stairs, replaced the picture. Tried to straighten it out.
He was so darned moody. Why did he still have to be so darned moody? Along with the soul, maybe they should have thrown in a lifetime prescription for Prozac, cos Jeez, the vampire mood swings? Really not conducive to the whole stable relationship thing. There was still so much of the...Spike in him and, whereas that sometimes had it benefits, she could really do without the angst factor. Less angsty Spike...more of the romantic William. She straightened the picture again. Joyce smiled back at her. Wise, green eyes. She groaned inwardly, rested her head against the wall.
"God...why does it have to be so hard?"
She heard the reply in her head almost immediately, as if her Mom had spoken. Remembered a long ago conversation, a post-date autopsy, a boy, a movie, a total wash-out. Cocoa and toll-house cookies in the kitchen.
"'Cos love never is sweetie. It hurts and it's hard, but we all have to go through it."
she'd let herself pout, yanked the stupid barrette out of her hair, the head going down on the counter.
"But why do we though? Why can't it be like...movie love? Why can't there just be...that something. You know...like you just...know...and then it's all perfect."
Her Mom quizzed her with her eyebrows as she warmed to her topic,
"He just looks into your eyes and you both...just feel it."
That'd sounded weird and she hadn't meant it that way but her Mom was smiling anyway, sharing the joke,
"Because life isn't like that honey. You don't just see someone and *bam*!"
she'd rethought that one, remembering her own youth for a second, revised,
"O.K, well sometimes it's bam...but that isn't really it."
She'd smiled at her daughter but her eyes had been serious. This was important. Remember this one Buffy.
"It's knowing someone. It's being with them, learning everything there is to know, sharing it, sharing things, stupid things sometimes,"
she needed her to get this,
"It's about accepting Buffy, but not compromising. Seeing the person's good and bad, all the shades in between and loving it all anyway."
And she did get it. She really did. Her head came up, let her eyes rest on the familiar face for a moment.
Thanks Mom.
Planted a kiss on the glass, trying not to let the tears well up, although this time they were good ones. Thanks for reminding me.
The back door slammed open, clogs on tiles.
"Is he here? Is Angel here yet?"
Dawn swung into view, all pinks and purples, glossy brown hair streaming out behind her in a curtain. Her eyes made the almost tears, the slight flush of the cheeks.
"Is everything OK? He didn't hurt you did he?"
her eyes went wide,
"Did he..he didn't hurt Spike?"
At least she wasn't the only one having trouble remembering the name thing.
"No, Spi...he just left."
"He left? Was he upset."
Let me see...the shouting...the general crankiness...the testosterone fuelled rage.
"A bit. But I'm sure he'll be fine as soon as..."
"As soon as he and Angel have a nice friendly chat?"
Now with the crossed arms. God and the face, the one that always conveyed so perfectly her complete lack of respect for all things sisterly.
"No,"
she managed not to grit her teeth,
"I was going to say...when Angel and I have had a chance to talk."
She was shaking her head now, like she knew SO much better. Man, where was the key for her bedroom, couldn't she just sent her there, lock her in until this was all over?
"Buffy, you really think Spike's going to stick around till then?"
What was she talking about? Where was he going to go?
"Dawn, Sp..." Jeez, "William's a grown-up. He's just mad right now. He knows there's nothing between Angel and me. He just needs to...get his head together."
That really didn't sound as convincing as she'd hoped it would and Dawn didn't think so either.
"Buffy, last time he needed to 'get his head together' he went to Africa. And we didn't see him for four months."
"He's not going to do that again. He just needs...some time."
And then it was her Mom's eyes looking at her, not Dawn's, wise, green eyes, trying to make her understand. This is important Buffy.
"No Buffy. He needs you."
When did you get so clever Dawnie? So old? Is it the Key thing? Is that what you really are? Ancient magic thing that opens magic doors?
"He loves you...and he's scared. He thinks you still want to be with Angel, that he's just...the consolation prize or something."
She shook her head, pulling herself out of the reverie,
"But...I don't."
Her lips were set in a firm line, the left eyebrow went up, arched.
"Yeah, I know. But did you actually tell him that?"
~
A suitcase. He really should have bought a suitcase. But who was to know.
Grabbed his clothes by the armful, shoved them into the hefty bag. Tried to tie it. What the hell had he bought all these new togs for anyway? He gave a short bitter laugh, oh yeah, the new him. What a joke that was. 'Mean who was he trying to kid? The soul, the breathing? That was all just spit and polish when it came down to it, wasn't it? What was underneath...that's what counted in the long run and as she knew only too well by now, with him...what you saw was pretty much the whole package. He pulled at the flimsy plastic ties, cursed like a sailor as they tore away in his fingers.
"They're not really designed to be used as luggage."
The head came up, soft hazel brown eyes met his, arms folded in the familiar gesture of denial. He saw the stance and had it all mapped in a moment. This was the gentle brush off then, the 'it's been fun but my real boyfriend's back now' and he felt his mouth start to twist in a ghost of a Spike sneer,
"Come for a last goodbye grope for old time's sake, pet?"
That didn't go so down well, he saw the fire spark up for a second, thought, this could be interesting. Maybe more of a...goodbye barrage? But no, as quickly as it had come it was gone and the guarded look was back again. The one he'd just been thinking this morning might have had gone for good. But there it was again like an old friend and he was on the outside once more, staring over the battlements into Fort Buffy. He felt sick, turned away to empty the mini bar. Hoped she was too wrapped up in thoughts of Angel to see the redness around his eyes.
"So, that's it? You're just going to leave?"
This was worse. Was she going to try the soft soap now? Surely not the 'let's be friends'?
"Yeah, thought I'd maybe swing by LA. Haven't checked out the scene for a coupla years...who knows, maybe it'll have improved."
"And then?"
"And then...maybe somewhere else. Maybe not."
he rammed a pair of boots into the second hefty, couldn't help but salt the wound though.
"Or maybe I'll just go and look up Dru...see if she's got any propositions I might find interesting."
That did it. She was coming for him now, all flying blonde hair and fury, eyes dark with anger. Hit a nerve there did I Slayer? Don't want the goods but you don't want anyone else signing for them do you? Pinning his arms to his sides, forcing him down onto his back. It was almost like old times, although the pain in his shoulders seemed a little more acute now. Ready for a last tumble Buffy? One for the road?
And then she was kissing him and not like before. Like now. Covering his face with kisses, his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth, pressing her fingers through his hair, kissing his throat, his mouth again, her eyes calm brown now and serious. He let his hands slide up her back in wonder, rested them there, listened to her voice as she spoke softly to him, kissed the words into his lips,
"It's you I want. You hear me William, Spike...whoever you are. You. Not Angel. I only want you."
He could feel her breath warm on his neck as she curled into him then, let her head slide into the crook between his chin and shoulder, her hands finding his skin under his shirt, fingers tracing a pattern of intimacy.
"Me?"
and he felt his own voice make his chest vibrate against her, blonde hair tickling him.
"You choose me?"
Her eyes came up, laughing at him, a little surprised,
"Yeah...you!? You think you're such a bad catch?"
He frowned, considered the possibilities for a second,
"Um...well...yeah love, now you come to mention it."
"...I don't think I got such a raw deal."
Sitting up now, her hips pressing down into him, smiling slow at him like she meant business. He squirmed, rolled his eyes in pained pleasure. Oh, don't do that to me Buffy, not unless you intend to see it through this time. Breathed heavy as she pulled his t-shirt up and over, then hers, let herself drape over him like a warm, living blanket. His hands moved over her back, fingers flexing as he felt the muscles there, iron sinew under that soft as peach skin.
Her lips parted a little and he could feel himself straining against his jeans as she locked eyes with him, moving against him soft and slow, like she knew it must be killing him.
"Buffy..."
"Mmmm?"
Less of a word more of a sound, a purr in the back of her throat as she stared down into his face, brushed his lips with hers again like the tantalising little vixen he knew she was.
"You said..."
God, was he actually going to say this?
"You said that...maybe we should...wait? Remember."
Her expression altered a little, a touch of concern, but the movement didn't stop,
"You don't want to?"
"God...yes!"
that came out more like a gasp that a statement,
"I mean...yeah of course...but, I mean...do you think you're...ready?"
Those eyes a little nervous suddenly. Was that him? Had he put that there?
"Yeah...I mean yeah...I think so."
She pulled back a fraction, rested her elbows on his chest.
"I mean...it's not like we haven't...before?"
He found a strand of her hair, twisted it, frowned,
"But we haven't though...not really."
She was searching him now, trying to understand. He blinked. Didn't she know?
"We've had sex."
he tasted her lips, softly, let the realisation enter her, watched as her eyes fluttered closed, opened again as she suddenly got it.
"Oh. You want to...make love?"
Jesus, why did she have to make it sound so damned corny and where was that look coming from all of a sudden, all virginal coquettishness, covering up her breasts with chaste little hands. He sighed, tried to draw her back down but found he had to fight her a little, ease at the stiffness of her back. Since when was she such the bloody novice? Then took one look at her pink little face and understood. Almost laughed at her then.
She was shy of him.
Only one other serious boyfriend and he was betting that that one hadn't set off any internal fireworks. And then there was him and they'd had fireworks a plenty, catherine wheels, rockets, the works. But never just this. The one thing he'd always longed for with her, the thing she had always denied him, despite all her cries of passion, and now he knew why. She was afraid of it, of letting him into that private place. Into the part of herself that she knew she could always hold just out of reach. He kissed her again, wrapped his arms around her, feeling her muscles soften a little as she tried to let herself relax.
Oh Buffy, you have to let me in now. I promise not to hurt you. He kissed a line down her shoulder, found her eyes again, all huge and full of trepidation now, felt his heart skip as he saw it. Just a flicker but he thought it was there. Trust.
"I love you."
She smiled into him, returned his kiss, her lips parting to whisper the miraculous.
"Love you too."
The cold hard voice that followed it almost tipped them both off the bed, clutching at each other in a sudden panic. Angel, large as life in the doorway.
"Well, I have to say...that wasn't what I was expecting."