A/N: This story picks
up right after Entropy,
so obviously the Spike/Buffy part of Seeing Red did not take place for
the purposes of this story...but otherwise, just assume that everything
else from the end of Season Six happened just as in canon, with the
exception of Spike going to get his soul...Hopefully I'll fill in some
gaps and feel free to ask about it if something doesn't make
sense...and
if it's not a part of the mystery I'll do my best to *make* it make
sense! J
66. With Feeling
When Dawn walked into the living room the
following afternoon, just having returned from school -- she was both
stunned and amazed by the strange sight that met her eyes.
The television was on, quietly, showing some vapid talk show host
introducing a panel of guests who looked like the population of the
local trailer park, while a colorful little box in the bottom left hand
corner of the screen proclaimed proudly, "My boyfriend cheated on me
with my mother -- and my sister!"
But as shocking as that statement was, it was not what had gained the
attention of the youngest Summers.
Dawn had no way of knowing how the evening before had gone for her
sister and Spike -- how the two of them had ended up falling asleep in
each other's arms far before they usually would have gone to bed, and
how that had resulted in their waking up in the pre-dawn hours of that
morning -- and how that unusually early rising had resulted in the
impromptu nap on the couch that had overtaken them both about an hour
earlier.
All Dawn knew was that Spike and Buffy were sound asleep on the couch,
Buffy's head rested comfortably against his chest, and Spike's hand
still, but tangled lightly in her soft blonde hair.
They were *together*.
Touching.
"Finally," she muttered, rolling her eyes and heading for the stairs to
do the homework she had completely neglected the night before, in order
to be able to turn it in the next morning -- only one day late.
*Oh, well -- sleepovers aren't meant for studying, anyway...*
She had seen the tension building between them over the past few weeks;
it had been completely obvious that they were both just forcing
themselves to hold back from touching each other. Buffy had been
desperate to reach out and comfort Spike, but afraid that he would
reject her attempts; and Spike had clearly been aching for that
comfort, but afraid of what accepting it might mean for their fragile,
tentative friendship -- and whatever might come beyond it.
She had no idea how, in one night of her absence, they had managed to
get past those things -- but she was very, *very* glad that they had.
**************************************
"How would you feel about a movie tonight, love?"
Buffy glanced up at Spike in surprise across the kitchen counter, as
she placed a warmed mug of blood in front of him and reached for the
sandwich she had already made for her own lunch. With an effort, she
kept her expression calm and even, trying very hard not to get her
hopes up too high. But...
*Is he -- is he asking me out on a *date*?*
It had been almost a month since that fateful night when Spike had
finally accepted her comforting arms around him, finally decided to
allow her to be close again -- and over the course of that month, that
closeness had become more and more comfortable between them.
It was nothing, now, for one of them to reach out to the other in
certain moments -- a light squeeze of the shoulder, a brief (or not so
brief) grasping of one's hand, a gentle hug to show support for what
the other might be going through...all were quite common by this point,
and gratefully accepted by both. Their tentative friendship had
developed into a bond that was close and intense and deeper than what
one might call "just" friendship.
A month ago, Buffy had never expected to have this much with Spike
again.
Problem was -- she was finding it harder and harder not to want so much
more.
And there had been moments in which it had seemed as if things were
going to change between them, move to a level that they had
deliberately avoided thus far -- moments when the two of them would
find themselves alone, and some look passed between them, some sequence
of tender words, would draw them into a place so sweet, so intimate...
But then, without fail, Spike would abruptly withdraw.
Oh, certainly, much more kindly than before. He would make a gentle
joke, or playfully tickle her -- something to effectively disarm the
building situation, turning it into something much more harmlessly
friendly, without hurting her feelings in the process.
At least -- he didn't *know* that he was hurting her feelings.
Apparently, he didn't know how badly she wanted the intimacy that he
had been so consistently rejecting.
*Until -- until now?* she wondered, biting the inside of her lower lip
as her mind raced to decide how best to respond to his question.
*It'd be easier if I knew exactly how he *meant* the question,* she
thought ruefully. *Does he -- is he really trying to ask me out on a
date?*
"Um -- that sounds nice, actually," she replied finally, careful not to
sound too overly excited at the prospect. "It's been a while since I've
been out for an evening -- you know -- slaying aside."
"Yeah, that's sort of what I was thinking," Spike nodded with
satisfaction, taking a sip from his mug before meeting her gaze. "I
haven't been to a movie theater since -- well, since the first days of
Technicolor," he laughed ruefully. "And I know I'd like to -- and I'm
sure the Bit could use a little time with us, yeah? She's been spending
entirely too much time with that little Janice bint."
Buffy blinked, but gave no other indication of her surprise at the
implications of that statement -- or her disappointment.
*So -- not a date then...*
"You're right," she agreed sincerely -- because she really did agree
with him about Janice -- but she fought to keep the tears from her eyes
as she casually continued the conversation. "I don't like that girl,
she's nothing but trouble for Dawnie. But -- if I forbid her from
seeing her, it won't stop her, will it?"
"No," Spike agreed with a grim sigh. "She'll still find a way to do
what she wants, if she wants it bad enough. Best bet is just to keep
her distracted when we can, yeah?"
"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "Yeah -- a movie sounds good. What should we see?"
*********************************
A few hours later, the three of them were making their way down a
darkened hallway into the crowded movie theater, with the advantage of
Spike's enhanced vampire sight to lead them. Dawn walked ahead of
Spike, guided by his hand on her shoulder, while Buffy trailed slightly
behind him, her hand clasped lightly in his, in order to keep them
together until they reached their seats.
She was almost disappointed when they did.
*Not a date...not a date...* she kept reminding herself firmly -- but she
found that once she had gotten the idea into her head, her heart did
not seem willing to part with it.
The only seats that seemed to be left in the crowded room were a few at
the end of an aisle near the back of the theater -- and there were only
two together, though there was one directly in front of those two. It
seemed to be as close as they were going to get to the three of them
sitting together.
For Buffy -- it was more than close enough.
It seemed that Dawn felt about the same way, as she immediately took
the single seat in front, without glancing back, as her sister and
Spike exchanged a strangely shy look, before smiling a bit awkwardly
and sitting down behind her.
Buffy already could feel the disappointment of loss, expecting to lose
the contact of his hand in hers now that they had found a seat, and
there was no further need for it.
Except -- that loss didn't happen.
Spike's hand stayed wrapped gently around hers, resting on the armrest
between them, his thumb stroking lightly over the back of her hand,
even as his eyes focused calmly on the wide screen in front of them. He
did not even seem aware of the gesture, as if it was a simple act of
friendly affection, the same as he might have offered to Dawn, had she
been sitting beside him instead.
*God, does he *know* what he's doing to me?* Buffy wondered with a
mingled sensation of joy at the contact, and frustration at how he
likely *saw* that contact. *Just my friend...he's just my friend...stupid
Buffy...watch the movie...just watch the movie...*
It was a dark horror film that would have been frightening, had the
three of them not been so familiar with the real horrors that
surrounded them all the time. Really, Buffy had to admit that the
special effects were quite well done, and her fifteen-year-old,
pre-calling self would have found it quite terrifying. She was vaguely
aware of the fact that if circumstances had been different, she never
would have allowed her younger sister to witness the bloodshed and
intense horror of the film they had chosen.
But while the others movie-goers cringed and covered their eyes, Dawn
stared at the screen with a vaguely bored expression on her face, idly
tossing popcorn into her mouth.
She had seen much worse than this in her two years of actual existence.
After a few moments she rolled her eyes with a weary sigh, turning in
the pitch blackness of the theater toward her sister and her surrogate
brother, squinting slightly as her eyes took a bit to adjust to the
darkness, due to the rather small amount of light generated by the dark
movie scene in front of them.
"Please," she hissed in a stage whisper. "I've seen real monster blood,
and that doesn't even come *close* to looking real! I mean, you've
squashed bugs with better guts than that! Of course -- they were demon
bugs the size of rabbits, but..."
Dawn's voice trailed off, as her eyes finally adjusted -- and she
realized that Spike and Buffy had been taking full advantage of the
scant lighting in the room, focusing almost entirely on either
other...and also that neither one seemed to be aware she had even spoken
at all.
Smiling to herself, she turned around and did her best to pay attention
to the rather inane and entirely not scary movie.
"Come on," she muttered under her breath. "It's like they're not even
trying..."
*******************************
*Don't try too hard, Buffy,* the Slayer was silently urging herself,
trying as hard as she could not to completely lose herself in the
intent, earnest gaze of the vampire at her side. *Just -- just let him
take the lead here -- let him decide when he's ready...*
They had been talking softly in whispered tones since they had taken
their seats, and the quiet, soft intimacy of the darkness and whispers
and closeness was having a definite effect on both of them. The movie
went mostly ignored, as they found themselves edging closer to each
other, gradually losing themselves in each other's presence, as they
had done so many times before.
Except -- this time -- the moment seemed to stretch on just a tiny bit
longer...
Whatever Spike had been saying -- which Buffy had not really been
hearing, anyway -- slowly faded away, as his eyes drifted from hers to
her soft, slightly parted lips, and he found his body instinctively
leaning him toward her, and hers pulling her insistently toward him,
until their lips were no more than an inch apart, both sets of wide
eyes focused with longing apprehension on the elusive point of contact
that was not yet.
"Buffy," Spike whispered suddenly, pulling just slightly away from her,
though they were still close enough that she could feel the cool brush
of his breath against her own lips -- and both knew what was coming, if
they allowed it to come. "Buffy, love...maybe we should..."
"What?" Buffy cut him off in a hoarse, almost desperate whisper, her
wide eyes of darkened jade glittering in the darkness, inches from his
own. They were so close, and she wasn't sure that she could make
herself deny it again. "Wait? Spike, we've *been* waiting...how long do
you want to wait?"
She inwardly cringed at her own words the moment after she had spoken
them -- but she was not exactly sorry that she had let them out.
"I -- I don't know," he whispered, breaking eye contact with her,
swallowing hard as he drew back a bit further. "Buffy, I -- this isn't
the place..."
Buffy hesitated a moment, warring parts of her heart and mind telling
her both to back off, to allow him to make the decision as to whether
or not their relationship might move further at this point -- and to
take the initiative and push just that tiny bit that her instincts were
telling her it would take to move them forward.
As always -- she found that she was a woman of action.
Her lips set firmly as she tightened her hand slightly around his and
rose to her feet, pulling him to his own and out into the aisle before
he could even begin to protest. As she started to pull him gently but
insistently toward the back exits into the hallway, Spike finally
seemed to find his voice again.
"Buffy," he whispered loudly. "What are you...?"
"Come on," she replied in a stage whisper to match his. "We need to
talk this out."
"Talk *what* out?" he replied, his jaw setting stubbornly as they came
to a halt in the darkened, empty hallway. "We're going to miss the
movie..."
"Oh, like you were actually watching it!" Buffy countered, her eyebrows
raised in a challenge as she met his gaze.
"Maybe I was!" Spike shot back defiantly.
"What's the main character's name?" Buffy demanded without hesitation.
When Spike could only sputter out a non-answer to the rather simple
question, she continued, "Half an hour into the stupid flick and you
don't know *that* much -- seems to me it's too late to start watching
it now! We have more important issues to handle right now, Spike."
"Like what?" Spike countered, not quite meeting her eyes, as he sighed
heavily, and leaned back against the wall behind him.
"Like why every time something like this happens, you pull away from
me, even when you know we both want...something else."
" 'We both'?" he echoed in a tone that was slightly more scathing than
he had intended it to be. "You and who else, love?"
Buffy flinched, though she knew deep down that he hadn't meant the
words. "So you *didn't* want to kiss me just then," she concluded
softly, flatly, certain in a part of her heart that the words were
false -- but just enough afraid that they might be true to make her
vulnerable and uncertain, as she raised her hesitant eyes to his again.
As always, Spike was lost to the hurt and need in her eyes.
He sighed heavily in frustrated defeat, as he shook his head and
whispered, "You know I want to, Buffy. Bloody hell, you *know* that!"
Buffy's eyes lit up with hope as she took a firm, deliberate step
closer to him, her lesser height making it easier for her to catch his
reluctant gaze. "Then why won't you?" she whispered.
There was a long moment of silence, stretching on until Buffy was not
sure that Spike was going to answer at all.
"I'm just -- not sure we're ready..."
"Let me clear up at least half of that for you," Buffy broke in
matter-of-factly. "I'm ready. I'm readier than ready. I couldn't
possibly *be* any more ready. So -- you're just not sure *you're* ready
-- is that it?"
"Right," Spike conceded, rolling his eyes with rising agitation as he
stepped away from the wall, moving slightly into her space. "S'pose
that's what I'm saying, yeah!"
Buffy was quiet for a moment before asking almost timidly, "Why not? Do
you -- do you not trust me?"
"Of course I trust you, love," Spike replied softly, a smoldering fire
in his blue eyes as they locked onto hers intently. "I've slept in your
arms every night for the past month. I've told you things..." His voice
trailed off, and he began again after taking a moment to strengthen his
composure, repeating, "...of course I trust you, Buffy."
"Then -- are you not sure -- you love me anymore?" Buffy's next
question was barely over a whisper, and made her suddenly sound very
vulnerable.
Spike stared at her dubiously for a moment, before remarking flatly,
"If you believe that, love -- then you're bloody daft. You know I love
you -- always will."
"Then -- if you love me -- and you trust me -- then what's holding you
back?"
"I-I'm just not sure, Buffy. I don't feel ready..."
"Ready to what? Go on with your life?" Buffy demanded, her voice rising
with slight agitation.
Spike was silent for a moment, before taking them both by surprise with
his quiet, slightly startled confession, "Well -- yeah."
Buffy blinked, surprised, and then drew in a deep breath. "Well," she
replied finally, her voice soft and even -- all of her frustration
seemingly vanished with that simple, honest admission, "the funny thing
about that is -- short of staking yourself or walking out in the sun,
you haven't really got much of an option about that...and those aren't
options either!" she hastened to add, giving him a severe look that
softened as quickly as it had arisen, as she continued, "I wouldn't let
you do that -- any more than you would have let me dance myself to
death that night last year. What was it you told me? About -- going on
living?"
She knew that she had touched a nerve, when he looked away from her a
bit uncomfortably, shrugging slightly as if he did not remember.
But she knew that he remembered.
She had never forgotten.
"Something about how -- no matter how bad it seemed then -- I'd get
through it -- because that's just what you have to do -- you have to go
on living, Spike." She paused, moving in closer to him, encouraged when
he did not attempt to move away from her. She was silent, waiting,
until he reluctantly met her eyes, and she added softly, "You may never
*feel* ready, Spike. That's why you just have to decide to *be* ready
-- to move on, and leave the past behind. Oh, I know it'll always be
there in a way, but you *can* live through it. You just have to let
yourself go on."
She was quiet for a moment again, swallowing hard in an attempt to
suppress her own rising emotions -- emotions so powerful that they
would have kept her from saying what she had to say -- and she *had* to
say it.
"I love you, Spike -- and I want to live through the rest of the time I
have -- with *you*. Maybe you can't handle it, alone." She laughed
sadly, shaking her head, compassion and sorrow for what he was going
through in her eyes as she added, "I know *I* sure couldn't. But --
that's why you have me -- and Dawn. People who love you, and want to
help you through this. You just -- you just have to make the choice to
go on."
She took a deep, shaky breath, looking down for a moment before meeting
his gaze again, her own both frightened and determined, as she forced
out the next words.
"You keep pushing me away, Spike -- but maybe I -- I'm what you need to
get through this. Did you ever think of that? I know I -- I *want* to
help you get through this," she confessed softly, glancing down again.
"I know I want to be the one person in all the world that you know that
you can turn to about *anything*. I want to -- to hold you each and
every night, and kiss away the nightmares as they come. Because they
*will* come -- but -- I don't think they'll be as bad...if you're not
sleeping alone."
Spike studied her expression for a long moment, his deep, piercing blue
eyes searching hers in the dim light, as his mind processed what she
was saying, the genuine love and sincerity that motivated her words --
and the fact that she was right.
Chances were, he would never reach the point when he felt that all the
pain, all the traumatic memories, all the issues of the past few months
were firmly behind him forever, never to be thought of again.
Certainly he would not reach that point alone.
He had to make the choice to go on living -- and the one thing he knew
he had to live for was the surrogate family he had found in the Summers
girls.
And the love he had found in Buffy.
His eyes began slowly drifting again, leaving her eyes to glance down
toward her lips, now stained with tears. He found himself drifting in
closer to her, reaching out his hands to rest at her waist and draw her
in against him, a soft, tentative smile beginning on his lips as he met
her eyes again and murmured softly,
"There's -- something else I remember -- about that night, love...if I
remember right, it...er...ended...something like..."
And in the next moment, their lips met, crashing together with all the
intensity of the desire they had been denying for so long.
Inside the darkened theater, the ending credits for the movie began to
roll.
And just as that fateful night a year earlier -- the curtains closed on
a kiss.