Chapter 8
Spike lay entertwined in the sheets, clutching Buffy to him, as he felt her heart rate slow and her breaths become even, indicating that sleep had overtaken her. He was still for a moment, enjoying the feel of her silken skin against his as she willingly lay pressed against him, something he couldn’t ever remember her actually doing before. He reached for the blankets at the foot of the bad and pulled the covers over her to ward off the cold, then curled back around her. She signed softly in her sleep as he returned to her embrace and snuggled against him. Spike knew Buffy had thought he was drifting off to dreamland in the aftermath of their lovemaking, but he couldn’t possibly begin to sleep, too much had just been said for him to have any peace. He needed time to process what had just happened.
She’d told him she loved him. Not straight out, but she’d finally said the words. He knew it was supposed to be a sodding role playing game and he wasn’t Spike and she wasn’t Buffy. He knew this was supposed to be some strange little fantasy where they were star crossed lovers who would mouth such platitudes to one another at the height of passion. But surely she knew he could see through the charade? Every word he had said to her tonight, every touch, every statement about what she meant to him was true and he hoped it was for her. She didn’t have to say the things she did. She could easily have allowed him to worship and coddle her all night if that was what the game was all about.
But she hadn’t. Instead she showed some genuine emotion to him in both her actions and words. She’d pleasured him first, something uncharacteristic of her unless she wanted something from him, which she hadn’t tonight. She’d known he was intent on making her feel everything he could – there had been no need for her to persuade him. And she’d stayed with him, something she’d never done since that first night together. She was still here, in his arms, sleeping contentedly and trustingly.
And her words. He knew it was foolish to trust declarations in bed, but she’d never said anything like that before in their encounters. She’d rarely said anything at all to him, other then commands or occasional inarticulate moans or screams of ecstasy, and he was pressed on many occasions to even wring those from her.
She had talked about real things, not the pleasure he was bringing her, not the way she liked the swirl of his hips, the slide of his body, the play of his lips on hers. Rather she’d praised the things he’d done for her in the past to try to show his love, and them affirmed what he had so long hoped for, that a little part of her could love a little part of him. She could call him Lancelot, but he knew she saw Spike when she’d let those words slip from her lips. For the first time in several months, he had hope in his heart. She might not be ready to say those words to him directly, and she might not be willing to accept him as both man and vampire yet, but the time would come. He finally drifted off into slumber, his arms wrapped tight around his beloved Buffy, determined for a better morning after than their first night togethe
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She awoke with a start, knowing something was unfamiliar. Buffy stared at the rock ceiling and realized there was a man’s solid chest against her back, his cool arm around her waist. Spike. Deja vu, was she in that wrecked house? And then the memories flooded back. The game, the seduction and the love-making that followed. She didn’t know whether to be concerned or not about what she said to him last night, but he stayed with the game, calling her Guinievere to his Lancelot, so she resolved not to worry about it for the moment.
Last night had been nearly perfect and she had promised herself the entire weekend to enjoy herself. It was only Saturday morning. As long as Spike didn’t get weird on her, she wasn’t willing to walk away from this quite yet. She waited for one of her InnerBuffy voices to perk up and announce she should leave because this was wrong, but decided they all must have enjoyed the previous night as well, because her internal dialogue was strangely silent. Content with her decision, she rolled over and kissed him on the cheek, then softly rubbed the tip of her nose against his until he began to twitch against her. One blue eye opened and he smiled.
“Good morning, my lady,” he murmured in his husky bedroom voice that always revved her just a little, then reached over to pull her under him for an extended good morning snog.
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, Ahh, he remembers and we’re good, we’re still in the fantasy world, then gave herself over to the joys of Spike kissage.
He finally broke off the kiss and softly spoke as he nuzzled her earlobe, “Luv, is there anywhere you have to be, any,” he cocked an eyebrow to emphasize the irony, “duties back at the castle?”
“No.” Buffy breathed as she maneuvered to return the nuzzling. “I’m with you for the weekend.”
Spike’s head pulled back sharply and he stared at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Love, you mean it, we’re…..” he searched for the metaphor, “safe from the castle guards?”
“Yes, they’ve all gone out on the hunt and won’t be back until Sunday,” she replied, remembering the excuse in her dream as she reached for him again.
He suddenly sprung from the bed to her surprise and then reached back down for her. Spike pulled her into his arms and spun her around, around, around, as he danced her around the crypt to music only he can hear. Buffy feel slightly dizzy from the rapid spinning, but was pleased by his enthusiasm at her simple statement. She suddenly realized that at that moment, she was possibly happier than she had been since she came back to earth. Rather than dwell on that thought, she focused on her exuberant knight before her. Spike finally stopped with the spinning and gently set her at the edge of the bed, then knelt before her, slowly raising one of her hands to his mouth. As he kissed her, Buffy thought they must be a ludicrous sight, both stark naked and rumpled from the previous night, with him kneeling at her feet in such a courtly pose. She ran her free hand through his hair and pulled him back up beside her.
“What do you want to do today?” she asked.
He looks at her oddly, then sighed.
“I want to see you bathed in the sunlight,” he whispered, them looked down, “but for today, how about we simply stay in and enjoy one another?”
She smiled her agreement and quickly curled back in the bed with him as they slowly moved together, touching and tasting and welcoming the new day. Spike realized with relief that they had managed to avoid the bitterness and acrimony that had marked the last time they woke up in each others arms. Much like that morning in the wrecked house, there were things between them that needed to be confronted Buffy knew. But neither was quite sure what to make of it all, and both Buffy and Spike pushed their thoughts aside for the time as more enjoyable distractions presented themselves.