Chapter 16
Spike snuck another sideway
glance at Buffy as he pulled the car onto Angel’s road. She was looking out the
window, watching the small suburban streets go by. For some reason he couldn’t
take his eyes off her this night. The beauty of the woman was emerging from the
shell of a girl.
There wasn’t a major
difference in her appearance. Her hair was hanging in the usual braid down her
back, but tonight she had braided both sides before they dropped into the one
long one. She had also raided his closet again. This time borrowing a burgundy
silk shirt that one of his exes had given him. She tucked it into a pair of
black jeans that were a better fit than most of the ones she wore. The pulling
on the material made it conform to her curves outlining the swell of her
breasts and teasing him with the merest hint of the lace on her bra. It was all
subtle changes, but the confidence she was gaining made her stunning.
“It’s going to be okay,”
Spike said, softly as he turned the ignition off. “Cordy already loves you and
Angel will, too, just because we do.”
“It’s just been a long day,”
Buffy said, obviously trying to explain away her quietness. She reached for his
hand. “I’ll be all right.”
“More than all right, pet,”
Spike whispered, scooting across the seat. He kissed her, letting his lips
drift across hers. “You’re going to do as wonderfully as you usually do.”
“Flatterer,” Buffy said,
stroking his chin with her fingertips. She smiled. “I appreciate the kind words
though.”
“That and the ice cream, Luv?”
“Always the ice cream,”
Buffy managed to say before his lips descended on hers. She opened her mouth to
him, letting his tongue dive in to taste her sweetness.
Their afternoon had been
spent in an idyllic haze of lovemaking and touches as they prepared for the
evening. Buffy’s innate sensuality was satisfying him in ways that he had never
been before. In her arms he opened his soul to their lovemaking, letting it
take him to new heights.
“Mmmm, I guess we should go
in,” Spike said, breaking away from her. He rubbed her nose with his. “I don’t
think they invited us over to make out in their driveway.”
“I don’t think so,” Buffy
said. She took her first real look at the modest home on a quiet side street.
It wasn’t a large house. She would describe it as a starter home but it was big
enough for the small family that lived there. “It’s pretty,” Buffy stated as
she stepped from the car. “They must be happy here.”
“They are,” Spike said,
taking her hand to lead her to the front door.
He crossed the fingers on
his other hand hoping that this would go well. He felt as nervous as Buffy
must. Angel and Cordelia had become his surrogate parents in so many ways since
his father had died. They had filled the gaps when his mother’s illnesses left
her unable to cope with a rebelling teenager boy. When his mother had finally
passed on herself when he was fifteen, the couple had taken him to live with
them in their small apartment. From them he had gotten the love and support he
needed to get himself together.
Other than Drusilla, he had
never brought any of the women he dated to their home. By accepting Angel’s
invitation he had admitted to them and to himself that Buffy was more important
than just a casual fling. He still didn’t know where they would end up as a
couple, but having everyone get along was important to him.
Taking a deep breath he
knocked on the door then squeezed Buffy’s hand. She squeezed back then leaned
against him for a moment. The sweet smell of the flower scent she wore wafted
over him, comforting and enticing him. In that moment of realizing that she
could do that for him with just the merest touch, he finally admitted what he
was feeling for her.
He was falling in love with
this woman who had more courage than anyone he had ever met. Her strength of
will was an inspiration to him. The joy of her arms was heaven and her touch
made him feel whole. It took his very breath away. And somehow it just felt
right to feel this way.
“Hey, you two,” Cordelia
said as she opened the front door wide. She smiled completely unaware of what
she had interrupted. “Come on in.”
Spike was disappointed. He
wanted to bask in his newly acknowledged feelings just for a moment. But he
smiled and played the proper guest. He went to hug and kiss Cordelia like he always
did but then remembered this afternoon at the lab. So, while still holding
Buffy’s hand, he gave Cordy’s cheek a quick peck.
“Hello,” Spike said. “Where
is hubby and child?”
“Playing,” Cordelia said,
closing the door behind them. “Hi, Buffy, when I talked to Spike earlier on the
phone he said you’ve had quite a day.”
“Hi,” Buffy said, smiling.
“It’s been interesting.”
“Did Fred call you with DNA
results?” Cordelia asked, leading them into the living room. With a sweep of
her arm she indicated for them to take a seat.
“She called,” Spike said,
leading Buffy to the loveseat. “But Captain Roberts wanted the results first so
we’re to meet in his office tomorrow morning.”
“That’s got to be
frustrating,” Angel said from the doorway. Holding his hand was Connor, their
four-year-old son.
“Don’t have much choice,”
Spike said, holding his arms out for the boy. Connor broke into a grin and ran
to him. Gathering Connor onto his lap, Spike turned to Buffy. “Buffy, I’d like
you to meet Connor. Connor, this is my friend, Buffy.”
“She your girlfriend,”
Connor announced, with a finger pointed at Buffy. “Mommy and Daddy were talking
about her.”
Spike could almost feel
Buffy shrink back into the cushions. He cast an irritated look at his cousin
and wife. He wasn’t sure if it was for making Buffy uncomfortable or talking
about her in the first place. His protective side was roaring its head in case
they had banded against Buffy.
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend,”
Spike agreed, reaching for Buffy’s hand. “I hope your parents were only saying
good things.”
Connor gave an enthusiastic
nod and patted Buffy’s hand being held in Spike’s. “Mommy says Buffy pretty and
she makes you smile.”
“Hey, didn’t like the
implication there,” Cordelia said, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to
Spike. She slipped an arm around Spike, laying her hand on Buffy’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Spike, you should know me enough to know that if I had a problem
with anything I would tell you to your face. I’ve certainly done it enough
times.”
“Same here,” Angel said,
sitting on the couch opposite of them. “Hi, Buffy, I’m Angel.” He held his hand
out over the coffee table to shake hers. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And it
was all good, I promise.”
“Hello,” Buffy whispered.
She tentatively put her hand in Angel’s, allowing him to shake it. “I
appreciate you all inviting me over.”
There was an awkward silence
for a moment as they realized they weren’t sure why Buffy was there other than
for Angel to check her out. They had only been there for a few minutes and
there had already been one misunderstanding. Buffy’s hand was trembling in his,
Connor was chattering about his day at pre-school, and the adults were quiet.
Spike knew he had to do
something before the situation totally disintegrated. His mind was running in
fifty directions trying to find something when Buffy surprised him.
“Cordelia said you were in
security,” Buffy asked, directing her question at Angel. “What exactly do you
do?”
Her hand was sweating and
trembling even more now that she had spoken. He squeezed it, stroking it with
his thumb. Pride swelled his chest as Angel started to answer her question. He
knew it was going to be okay. A few minutes later they moved into the kitchen
where Cordelia served them dinner. Angel was still explaining his company while
Spike and Cordy rolled their eyes behind his back. Once he got started he could
discuss the finer points of home alarms and body guards for hours. But what
mattered was that Buffy was fitting in with the most important people in Spike’s
life.
~~~~~~~
By the time Buffy excused
herself to use the restroom she felt ready to explode. She hurried off in the
direction that she had been given barely taking the time to notice the
surroundings. It was on the way back to the kitchen that she stopped to look at
the family pictures that hung on the wall in the hallway.
They told a story of a happy
family filled with achievements and togetherness. There were pictures that told
of Angel and Cordelia’s relationship from the beginning to the birth of their
son then family portraits of his progression. A photo hung of a younger Spike
standing with an older man and woman. His parents? She gazed hungrily at the
ones of Spike. Of the little boy he was playing on a playground with his cousin
Angel. There were pictures of them all as they graduated from high school,
college or the police academy.
“I see you got caught on our
bragging wall,” Angel said, leaning against the opposite wall. A hand gestured
toward the photos. “All of our shining moments in one place.”
“You seem to be a happy
family,” Buffy said. “Exactly what a perfect family should be.”
“Don’t do that to us. We are
far from perfect.”
Buffy looked down, letting
her gaze sweep over herself in a critical assessment of her looks and life. Why
was it only when she was in Spike’s arms did she feel that she was okay? Was it
just an illusion? Did she feel that his perfection rubbed off on her and she
could bask for a moment in the normalness of his life?
“Buffy, we’re not perfect,”
Angel said, coming to her side. He tilted her chin up to look at him. “The
pictures only tell the story of the good times. The moments that we’ve achieved
in spite of the bad times we’ve gone through. Don’t think you’re not good
enough for us.”
“How can you say that?”
Buffy said. “I’m just a kid who only got through high school because a tutor
came to my house two days a week. I’ve got this past that…”
“Spike never told you, did
he?” Angel said, interrupting her tirade.
She shook her head.
“Damn him,” Angels said,
with a sigh. He took her hand, only raising an eyebrow when she tried to pull
it back. “You love my cousin, don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy
mumbled.
“Yes, you do,” Angel said,
squeezing her hand. “And he loves you so that makes us family.” He tugged her
toward the kitchen despite her dragging her feet.
Buffy was so stunned by
Angel’s announcement that she couldn’t move. If Angel hadn’t been pulling her
along, she felt that she would have collapsed on the floor. Not once had she
ever thought that Spike could love her. Care about her, be her friend, yes, but
never love her. Not when he wanted her gone the day after next.
“Cuz,” Angel said, stopping
by the table. “For some reason Buffy thinks this family is perfect. And that
you’re too good for her because somehow you haven’t been tainted by life. Don’t
you think it’s time to tell her everything?”
Spike stared at his cousin.
His mouth opened and closed several times before shaking his head. “I don’t
know if I can,” was all he said. He buried his face in his hands. There was a
slight tremble to his body as if he was overwhelmed.
Buffy took a seat in the
chair next to him.
“Its okay, Spike,” she said,
wrapping her hand around his arm.
“No, it’s not,” Cordelia
said. “Spike, you need to start letting go. It’s over with. It wasn’t your
fault.”
“And it’s not like you don’t
know everything there is to know about Buffy,” Angel added.
Spike snapped his head up to
look at Buffy. She felt his confusion and hoped that he understood she only
wanted to know because she cared. Somewhere in the past few days he had become
so much more than a protector to her. He was her friend and her lover. He
laughed with her, played with her, and understood both her dreams and fears. She
loved him with all the promises that life had to offer.
“It’s up to you, Spike,”
Buffy said, letting her thumb caress his arm. “I hope that you trust me with
whatever it is, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”
~~~~~~~
Spike continued to stare at
Buffy. There was a spark in her eyes that wasn’t even there when they made
love. It warmed him, making him feel safe with her. If there was going to be
any relationship, whether it was a friendship or something more than she had
the right to know everything. She had the right to decide if she could live
with the reality of the man he was and not just the man she thought he was. And
he wanted to know if there was a chance she could before he got in too deep.
“Come on, pet,” Spike said,
standing up. He turned to Angel. “Okay, if we do this just the two of us?”
“Sure, Spike, whatever you
need.”
Taking her hand he led her
to the enclosed rear patio. There was a loveseat swing hanging on one end of
the porch. He took a seat, pulling her down beside him. Already he was hearing
his father’s voice in his head telling him how disappointing he was. Spike
leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. Buffy’s leaned closer to him
and he wanted to hold onto her, letting her chase away the nightmares that
still haunted him.
“My dad was a cop,” Spike
started, sitting back but still staring at the ground. Anywhere but at piercing
green eyes that saw too much and had invaded so much of his life. “And he fit
the profile of the old time cops, very tough and macho. He wanted me to be the
spitting image of him. Even when I was little and would skin my knee or
something, he’d tell me to suck it up and be a man.”
Spike puffed out his chest
in an imitation of how he remembered his father to be.
“How could you be a man when
you were only a little boy?” Buffy asked with her eyes wide.
“It’s what he expected,”
Spike said, shrugging. “Boys didn’t cry and I learned not to let him see me. I would
rather have swallowed back the worst pain in the world instead of facing the
ridicule he’d give me if he saw a tear.”
“Oh, Spike, that wasn’t
fair. Where was your mother?”
“My mum was always sickly
and I tried to take care of her,” Spike said with a laugh. “My father wanted me
playing sports like Angel did, but I was
spending a lot of time indoors, reading to her, and helping her out with the
chores.”
He stopped to take a ragged
breath. Memories flooded over him. The images of his father trying to teach him
to play football when he was worried if his mother had taken her medicine on
time still hurt him. The scorn he endured because he would cook dinner then
washed the dishes afterwards.
It was women’s work and his
father never let him forget. He’d even gone so far as to buy his son a pink
apron to wear when he was in the kitchen. Maybe he was only hoping that the
mockery would toughen Spike up and make him want to be more like his father. It
only made the situation worse and encouraged an anger that still hadn’t faded.
“Didn’t he understand you loved your mother
and that you were only trying to protect her?” Buffy asked, taking his hand.
“No, not really,” he
laughed. “He resented Mum. He married her because she was this beautiful petite
English china doll and then didn’t understand why she was weak.”
“What did she do about your
father?” Buffy asked. “I mean about the way he treated you. Did she try to stop
him?”
“How could she? She was
dependent on him for everything,” Spike said, putting his arm around Buffy’s
shoulder. “She married him when she was nineteen and never worked a day in her
life. What was she going to do? Make him angrier? She was terrified of being
kicked out.”
His mum always told him that
he had to behave. He couldn’t upset his father. He just had to try harder. But
it was never enough. Torn between trying to please a father who wanted an All
American boy and a mother who needed him to care for her, it always felt like
no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough.
“She let you be abused?”
Buffy asked bitterly. “She could have found a way if she wanted.”
“I wasn’t abused,” Spike
said, looking at Buffy in surprise. “We just didn’t get along. I was never good
enough for him and he wasn’t bashful in letting me know it.” He shrugged.
His father had never raised
a hand to him. His words had often been harsh. He was never given affection by
the man who raised him. But he never lacked for food, clothes, or other
necessities. Being a cop, he knew what abuse was. It wasn’t him.
“How did it end?” Buffy
asked.
“He died in a car accident.
In the car with him was the woman he was having an affair with and her seven-year-old
son,” Spike answered, detachedly. Not once had he ever let himself really
accept what happened. If he did then he would have to accept his own failure. “The
little boy was killed, too. Apparently my dad had been seeing her for awhile.
Telling us he was working overtime when he was with her and the boy who was
fulfilling his dreams.”
“What do you mean?”
Spike looked over at her
with a wan smile. “I found out that the little boy was everything I
wasn’t. He was into soccer, little
league, a real sports type.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Maybe,
just maybe if I had been enough for him the kid wouldn’t have been in the car.”
“Oh, Spike,” Buffy said,
snuggling closer. Her arms snaked around him, holding him tight. “It wasn’t
your fault. Your father made his own decisions and you were barely more than a
child yourself.”
“Didn’t feel like it, Luv,”
Spike said.
“How did you and your mother
cope?”
“It wasn’t really one of our
brighter moments,” Spike said. “We got through it though. We got the police
widow and survivor pension to help keep a roof over our heads. I did odd jobs
to help bring money in. My Mum ended up clinging to me tighter. She wanted me
to take over the household and run everything. I was all she had so I did. The
bills, the shopping, the housework, taking care of her and school, too.” He
laughed. “I worked my ass off but I guess it wasn’t enough. She died when I was
fifteen. I think she just gave up.”
“How sad for her,” Buffy
said. “Is that when you went to live with Angel and Cordelia?”
“Yeah, I got so scared that
I’d end up in a shelter or something,” Spike said, with a shiver. “They showed
up as soon as they got the news and took me home with them. I gave them hell because
I was so angry about everything but mostly at myself. I kept going over
everything I could have done differently but nothing changed. It took months
but I finally settled down. They made me face who I was.”
“Someone very special,”
Buffy whispered.
“Don’t think that, Luv,”
Spike said. “Told you before that I’m just a man and sometimes a very fucked up
man at that.”
“But you’re always trying to
be the hero,” Buffy said. “And you’ve saved me twice now.” She chuckled. “In my
book that makes you special.”
Spike shook his head. She
just didn’t understand. How could she? She’d been the golden girl, growing up
with money, looks and personality. What happened to her had happened outside
her world. He’d grown up in a world that didn’t accept him, where he didn’t fit
in even with his family. Sure, Angel and he had always been friends but he
reasoned they were forced to because they were related.
Not being able to accept her
pity, he stood and started to pace. He was on the second turn when she stood in
front of him. Her hands cupped his face. The kiss she bestowed was filled with
so much love it made him ache. If only she did love him. If only life was
fairer than what it was, maybe they had a chance. But one day he would let her
down like everyone else. It was one of the reasons he wanted her to leave. That
way she would remember him as her hero.
“Stop it,” Buffy ordered. “I
don’t want you to be perfect. Not when I’m as messed up as I am.”
“I’m not who you want me to
be,” Spike said, holding her wrists to try to keep her away from him. He needed
to make sure she understood that he would disillusion her eventually. “No
matter how much I’d like to fit that fantasy, this man doesn’t have wings or a
sword.”
“No, you have something
better. Honor and courage,” Buffy said. “I want you just the way you are. Let’s
go home so I can show you how much.”
Without waiting for an
answer she took his hand to lead him back into the house to make their
good-nights. He meekly followed the girl who was shining a beam of light into
his soul. Angel and Cordelia shooed them out the door with grins on their
faces.
The ride home was made in
silence but she was beside him. This time when they stopped the car, there was
no running, no laughing as she led him through the parking lot and inside the
house. Spike locked the front door then followed her through the darkened
living room into the bedroom. She had lit a few candles around the room. Afraid
it was only a dream, he didn’t say anything. He watched her undress then come
to him with only a smile.
Her hands were gentle as she
undressed him. Soft caresses were trailed across his skin as she pulled his
clothes off. The invitation was clear when she lay across his bed, her hand
held out to him. He followed her down, accepting her control when she covered
his body with hers. She kissed and nipped her way from his chest to his stomach
then lower. Her mouth heated as she pleasured him.
And he wanted to believe.
to be continued….
