Chapter 30
Spike held Buffy up against him, not willing to release her for any reason. He was lost in the sensation of finally being able to kiss her and hold her like any normal man in love with his girl would do. Anything outside their bubble mattered not to him.
“Spike,” she gasped, breaking their kiss and burying her face in his throat. She was breathing heavy and for that matter, so was he. Breathing had ceased to matter; all that had mattered was kissing her. Her breath on his neck was only adding onto his excitement. His entire body was breaking out in goose bumps.
“Please, Buffy, don’t tell me you regret that,” he begged her. “Please tell me you didn’t–”
“I didn’t. I don’t,” she whispered.
He held her tighter. “Thank you, thank you,” he chanted, pressing ardent kisses in her hair.
“You’ve literally swept me off my feet,” she laughed nervously.
Peering down, he found the tips of her toes just barely brushing the ground. He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Light as a feather, you are.”
She snorted. “Impossible.”
“It’s not,” he defended.
“I love you,” she said fondly and Spike trembled at the words.
“I love you,” he rasped, “Love you so bleedin’ much, Buffy. I feel like my heart is gonna burst from it, feel like I can’t breathe sometimes for how much I love you.”
“Spike,” she gasped.
“What, baby?” he murmured, stroking a hand under her jacket, rubbing her side, feeling her warmth.
“You’re going to make me cry!”
“How’s that?”
“Because you…no one has ever…and I need you, Spike. I need you to love me.”
“Oh, Buffy, baby, I’m right here and I love you with everything that I am.”
She pulled her head back so she could look up at him, “You know I love you back, right?”
“I know,” he whispered and kissed her again, tasting her salt on his tongue.
“Spike, I need to tell you something…” she trailed off when they’d broken apart. He let her touch Earth fully, but did not let her go. Instead, he pulled her to a nearby bench and pulled her to sit next to him. He wanted her on his lap, but he was harder than nails and didn’t want to scare her or shoot off in his pants.
“Talk to me, luv, tell me what’s on your mind,” he urged, squeezing her hand.
She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, staring at the ground. “I had a dream last night.”
“Oh?” So did I, funny that.
“I dreamt we were uh…you know…doing it.”
“You are blushing at least twenty shades of red,” he teased and caressed her cheek with the back of one hand. “I can’t believe it. I never thought you shied away from just blurting anything out.”
She nudged him with her elbow and he used the opportunity to pull her closer against him, wrapping an arm around her, and pressing a kiss into her hair once more.
“Was I doing something particularly saucy?” he asked huskily.
She laughed, “You’re disgusting.”
“Do you like it?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
He laughed, “Thought you might. So, tell me about this dream.”
“Well…that’s kind of where the fun ends. I don’t mean to throw a cold bucket of water on this shiny happy moment, but my Mom showed up at the end.”
He froze slightly and then forced himself to relax. “Oh?” he prompted as casually as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was make her think it was wrong, or that he was disturbed by it.
“Yeah, she was in the doorway when we were done and I called out to her and then the door slammed. I wanted to tell you because…I just wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I really am. I…” her voice trembled and Spike pulled her near on his lap and kissed her temple.
“You can tell me anything. Breathe, baby, breathe, okay?” he encouraged her gently.
“I’m trying to…get past it. It doesn’t feel wrong to love you in my heart. It’s just my head that gets all screwy and I think too much and I feel too much…People tend to think I don’t feel anything, that I have no emotion, but that’s not true. I feel like I feel everything, and all at once, and that’s what fucks me up. I keep it all inside and then I just explode.”
“I know you feel, sweetheart. I know you do. I’ve been on the receiving end of that big heart of yours and God, I know you feel. I don’t want you to keep it in anymore, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about anything, Buffy–”
“Some of it is about you!” she exclaimed. “I can’t tell you all that.”
“Why not?” he asked, pouting slightly.
Looking up at him, she giggled and kissed him. “So adorable,” she murmured, sweeping her tongue along his bottom lip.
“Adorable, eh?” he growled and nipped at her lips.
Resting her head on his chest, she sighed. “What’s it like for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“With my mom and me…what’s it like for you?”
Dr. Giles knew what he was talking about was the only thing Spike could think. Buffy was opening the door for him to reveal the exact nature of his feelings for her, what she meant to him and how it was different from her mother. He just hoped that she was in fact prepared to hear it. He was uncertain how to tread here; Dr. Giles had been all for honesty yet, Spike was hesitant. Would she feel offended for her mother to learn that what he felt for her was so much more?
“It’s…precarious,” he said after some time.
She looked up at him curiously, “How?”
Thinking sod it all, Spike swept her legs up and then pulled her onto his lap. She studied him, her head cocked to the side. “Well?” she prompted.
“I’m thinking, woman.”
“Is that what I smell burning?”
He poked her, “Smart ass.”
She smiled cheekily, “Intelligent rear end.”
He grinned and then heaved a sigh, turning serious. “The way I love you and the way I loved your mom is different, Buffy.”
“I would hope so or that would really fuck with my head. And that particular worry already has.”
“It’s not that I didn’t love your mom.”
“I know. You married her after all,” she said quietly, looking down.
“But…your mom…she gave me something I needed at the time.”
She looked back up at him. “What was that?”
“At the time I’d met your mom, I had just lost my parents. I didn’t know what I was doing with my life, just kind of waffling about. When I met Joyce, she gave me some direction, she gave me some guidance, and she gave some unconditional love that I needed.”
“She was like a mom for you,” Buffy stated.
He should have known his girl was smart enough to pick up on that. Nodding slowly, he agreed, “Yes.”
“And me? Cause,” she started to giggle, “I know it’s not my nurturing ways.”
“I just finished telling you that you have a big heart.”
“Yeah, that may be so, but I’m not like her. I’m not open and giving like her. I reserve all that until I feel you’re really worthy.”
“Thank you.” And he pecked her nose.
“For what?” she asked incredulously.
“I must be worthy.”
She smiled, “You are.”
“Buffy, with your mom, I was yes, nurtured. Taken care of. Coddled, some would say. With you, I’m a man standing on my own two feet, asking the big questions, and finding out who I am and what I want. You challenge me. You make me want more for myself; you don’t let me get too big for my britches–”
“Who says that?” she teased.
“I do. I’m being serious here, imp.”
“Sorry. You know how I am. I make jokes when I feel nervous. Continue.”
“What’s to be nervous about?”
“I’m not used to someone singing me praises. You know, that isn’t my mom. I never thought I’d be responsible for all that you say I’m responsible for.”
“For making me want to be a better man?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Man, that’s huge.”
“Nothing you can’t handle, or haven’t handled so far.”
She smiled. “You have a lot of faith in me.”
He nodded, “I do. I wish you had more in yourself.”
“What a coincidence, so do I.”
He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “I was afraid to tell you.”
“Tell me…?”
“How I loved you and your mother differently. Buffy…”
“Yeah?”
“I have something to tell you, too.”
“You mean you didn’t just say it?”
“Not all of it,” he said softly.
“What is it?”
“I dreamt of you last night too.”
She sat up straight and stared straight ahead. “We…?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You started to cry.”
“Jesus, what did you do to me?” she demanded, looking at him.
He couldn’t help but laugh at that, and then poked her. “Serious time.”
Nodding she gestured for him to continue.
“You were crying after we finished and I was about to ask you what was wrong when Joyce appeared by the bed and said ‘Now look at what you did!’”
Her eyes widened. “Then what?”
“I was going to tell her that I was sorry–”
“F-for cheating on her?”
“No! Have you been listening to me at all? I was going to tell her that I was sorry that I hurt her, but I loved you.”
“Spike?” Buffy whispered mournfully.
“Yes, my love?” he asked, afraid she’d recoil from him now. Reaching up, he twined her hair in his fingers and pulled her head down until her forehead was against his.
“Do you think she’s angry with us?” she asked in a small voice.
He hadn’t braced himself for that question, and he should have. He knew she’d been struggling with the same issues as him. So, was he honest with her at this point and admit he worried about the same? Or did he tell her that no, he didn’t think Joyce was angry with them?
About now would be a great time for some Divine Intervention…