Love Takes Time – Part 2

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Buffy has just lost her mother, whom she has been estranged from for five years due to her mother’s marriage to a certain man by the name of Spike. Now, Buffy has returned home to bury her mother, face Spike, and the whole mess of demons returning home has unleashed. Spike, it appears, has his own demons to face, and Buffy may end up needing him more than she realizes.

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Chapter 31

Spike decided the best he could do for Buffy was go for honesty. “I don’t know, Buffy, I don’t know if she is.”

“You weren’t supposed to say that,” she pouted.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Lie. Tell me she’s not angry with us. Tell me she’s happy for us.”

“I want her to be, but I don’t know that. I can’t know that. But, Buffy…either way, we have our lives to live now.”

She pulled her head back. “Do you really feel that way? Or do you think you should feel that way?”

He stared at her.

“You forget I know you, Spike. You forget that I know you have a guilt streak in you to rival mine. And you forget that I,” she tapped his chest, right over his heart, “know your heart.”

He took a ragged breath, shaking his head. “So, my girl is perceptive, eh?”

“Always have been. So?”

“I have had my reservations, yes–”

“I knew it!”

But, Buffy, if I took up with anyone after your mother, there would have been some guilt attached.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, “But since it’s her daughter…”

“Look at me,” he demanded, something inside him snapping. There was no way he was going to give up the bliss he’d felt from kissing her and holding her; no way he was going to give up the sheer bliss he felt at just loving her over a few uncertainties.

She looked up at him.

“I love you, dammit, and I’m not going to be stopping anytime soon and I don’t want to. Nothing has ever felt so right in all my life and I am not going to let it go – not going to let you go. You are my girl. That’s it. That’s the end of the story. We will work the rest of it out, but I am not going to give something up that makes me a better man, that makes me stronger, and gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning because of some guilt and dreams. I’m staying by your side, Buffy, and that’s it. You’re gonna have to use a crowbar to get me away from you, you understand me?”

She visibly shivered, “Wow.”

“What?”

“That was hot.”

He smiled, “It was?”

She nodded adamantly. “And that helped, believe it or not. It’s just not going to be the end for me and my guilt. You understand?”

He heaved a sigh, “Yeah, I know. I feel it too, Buffy, I do. But . . . I have to move on. I can’t help the fact that I fell in love with you. You’re it for me, that’s all my heart knows, and you’re all it wants. I can’t help that, and God help me, I don’t want to.” Bringing her to him, he kissed her hungrily, reveling in the feel of her body pressing against his. Tangling his hands in her hair, he angled her head and deepened their kiss, dipping his tongue in her mouth, and tasting her sweetness.

“Ahem.”

They both froze and their eyes popped open and locked on one another. Buffy ducked her head and Spike peered over her shoulder. He grinned. “Well, hello there, Bea!”

“Time’s up,” Bea said matter-of-factly. “Buffy’s got lunch.”

Spike sighed, “All right. Can you give us a minute? I’ll walk her in.”

Bea rolled her eyes and trudged off.

Buffy sighed and looked up at him apologetically. “Sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked gently.

“For being here.”

He shook his head, “Don’t you apologize for that. You felt you needed help and you got it. Buffy, I love you, so of course I want what’s best for you.”

Now she smiled softly. “Thank you.” Her smile spread, “I love you, too.”

Groaning, Spike smothered her in another kiss and reluctantly broke away when his baser needs started to get a hold of him. “Come on, now luv; let’s get you some food, all right?”

Nodding, looking as reluctant as he felt, Buffy slid off his lap and just raised a brow at the visible erection he was sporting.

“What did you expect?” he grumbled and she laughed.

********

January 14, 2006

Dear Joyce,

I miss you. I really do. I miss our talks, I miss your guidance. I miss your hugs and I miss your laughter.

I don’t think I ever told you what a wonderful woman I thought you were. I don’t think I ever thanked you for all the things you did for me, and all the things you gave me that I so desperately needed. You helped me in so many ways that gave me the start I needed in my life.

I wanted to discuss Buffy with you. She’s a great girl, Joyce. You did well with her. I wish I could say the same for Hank, but as far as I’m concerned, what you did and what Buffy did out of sheer tenacity, made her into the lovable person she is today.

And I love her Joyce. I love her so much. I know you didn’t think we’d ever get along much less fall for each other, but we have. You are ever present in our minds. The guilt we feel; the worry we have over you and what you think follows us.

But I want to move on Joyce, and I want to help Buffy do the same. I know that how you feel on the matter could go either way – you might bless us, you might hate us. You might have been responsible for pushing us together, or you might be responsible for the obstacles threatening to pull us apart.

Whatever it is that you feel, I want to tell you that I love your daughter very much and I’m going to take good care of her. The last thing I want is for her to suffer any more pain and I am going to be there with her every step of the way as she heals. You’d be so proud of her Joyce; she’s doing so well and trying so hard. She doesn’t quit, she just keeps going, keeps fighting.

I know ultimately you do want us to both be happy, so all I’m asking for here is for you to understand on the off chance that you don’t. It’s not disgusting, it can’t be. What I feel is real and true, I know it. It doesn’t mean that I never loved you, because I did and a part of me always will, it just means that I’m ready to move on – to move on from being a widower, and move on to the next phase of my life. I want that next phase to be with Buffy by my side. I hope that you can understand that. Your understanding would mean so much to her and I.

Thank you for all you’ve done for me –

Goodbye, Joyce –

Spike.

With a blue balloon in hand that he’d gathered from a nearby party store, Spike tied the letter to the string of it, and let it all go from a park bench in Boston Common. He smiled, feeling peace wash over him when it started to snow.

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