99. Calm After the Storm
Buffy got into
the backseat of the DeSoto
beside her mate, who was already seated in the middle of the bench
seat. Spike's choice of seating was clearly to please Dawn, who was
seated on his other side. There was no question in the younger girl's
mind that Spike would want to sit next to Buffy – but she wanted to sit
next to him, as well.
Therefore – the middle was the only place that Dawn would allow him to
get away with sitting at the moment.
Buffy did not say anything for a long moment as she slid onto the seat,
simply studying the expressions on the faces of her mate and sister.
Both were looking straight ahead, Spike's expression one of practiced
calm, and Dawn's one of poorly concealed concern. Buffy knew
instinctively that her little sister had wasted no time in asking Spike
about just what had gone on in the room while she had not been in it –
and had been gently but firmly put off.
Now matter how much Dawn loved him, how badly she wanted to be a
supportive friend to him – she was still very young, and Spike refused
to share the painful, disturbing details of the situation with the
innocent young girl.
And perhaps – he simply could not find the words.
At any rate, Dawn's hand was holding tightly to Spike's in a
protective, comforting action that was all she had to offer at the
moment – at least, all that he would accept – and Buffy could see that
he was gladly accepting the gesture, tightly grasping her smaller hand
in his in a reassuring response.
Buffy just wasn't really sure which of the two of them he was trying to
reassure.
Spike did not look at her as she got into the car – his eyes focused
somewhere around the dashboard of the car – but when Buffy gently
wrapped her arm around his shoulders, he hesitated only a moment before
he gratefully laid his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes and
swallowing back the swell of emotion that rose up in him at her tender
touch.
*Yours, Buffy,* she heard his soft yet fierce voice in her head,
desperate and insistent. *Only yours – not – not...*
*Always, Spike,* she immediately offered the reassurance he craved.
*Always – no one else's – and I'm yours, too...just yours...*
The events of the past hour were simply overwhelming, both for the
vampire who had finally faced his past – and for the Slayer who had
finally left hers behind. Beyond the simple reassurances that passed
between them, that the bond they had established was and always would
be still intact – no words needed to be said.
They just sat there, silently taking comfort in each other, simply
feeling the nearness and connection between them, each shutting out
their own thoughts of the recent traumas they had endured.
Joyce had been driving for about five minutes when she spoke quietly
into the stillness, "Buffy, honey – do you think...?"
"*Mom*!" Dawn hissed in an insistent whisper. "Shh!"
Joyce frowned in slight irritation, glancing in the rearview mirror –
and was surprised at the sight that met her eyes. Buffy's position made
that of the invisible vampire in the mirror obvious, even though Joyce
could not actually see him. The two of them were snuggled close
together in the back seat, Buffy's hand resting peacefully on his arm,
which seemed to be wrapped around her waist; and her head was leaned
over slightly, resting on his, which was resting on her shoulder.
Both were fast asleep.
A little over an hour later, the car pulled to a stop in the Summers'
driveway, and the sudden stilling of the vehicle after the lulling
motion that had put her to sleep, now drew Buffy from her rest. She
looked up, glancing around for a moment, a bit disoriented, before
remembering where they were.
"Mr. Giles called while you were asleep, Honey," Joyce informed her. "I
answered your phone for you. He said he should be back in town tomorrow
morning."
Buffy just blinked at her sleepily for a moment, her mind still running
on slow speed as she allowed herself to wake up. She glanced out the
window just in time to see Xander parking his car next to the Desoto in
the Summers' driveway. Inside the car, her friends appeared to be
chattering on easily, as if now that they were all safe at home, all
was suddenly right with the world.
As if *her* world had not been shattered and put back together more
times than she could count, all in the space of the past twenty four
hours.
Buffy just stared for a long moment through the tiny gap in the
aluminum foil-covered cardboard that blocked out the sunlight, a slight
frown on her face, her mind running slowly through the events of the
past few days, before she and her family had taken off across the
desert.
Finally she drew her attention back to her mother and nodded in
response, meeting her eyes with a serious, slightly sad gaze.
"Mom – can you do me a favor?" she asked quietly.
"Of course, Buffy, what is it?" Joyce's brow furrowed with concern as
she studied her daughter's troubled expression. "What's wrong?"
"Can you tell the others to just go home for right now? I – I really
just can't deal with them right now. I'm – I'm so tired, and I really
just -- don't know what to say to them...I just know that – that things
can't be the way they were before – not without some serious changes..."
She frowned thoughtfully, before adding slowly, "And...I guess that would
mean they *still* wouldn't be...like they were before – wouldn't it?"
Joyce couldn't help but laugh softly at her daughter's usual gift for
mutilating the English language – but the laugh quickly faded when
Buffy failed to return it, her emerald eyes still searching her
mother's, with a pleading question in them.
"Things won't ever be the same, Mom," Buffy concluded, her tone earnest
and desperate to make her mother understand what it was she was trying
to say.
She did.
"They're still your friends, Buffy," Joyce reminded her gently.
"Maybe they are," Buffy shrugged slightly, looking away. "Maybe they
aren't. But – if they can't accept Spike being a part of my life..." Her
voice trailed off, as she shook her head slightly. "Anyway," she
finally continued, "I need to sleep – and so does Spike. I'm sure we
all do. So – if you could just tell them that I'll call them tomorrow,
after I hear from Giles? And we can all meet up then."
She paused, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh as
she turned her gaze back toward the window.
"Hopefully by then – I'll have some freaking clue what to say to them."
"Of course, Honey," Joyce repeated gently, nodding her assent.
"Whatever you need."
Joyce immediately got out of the car and went around to the driver's
side window of Xander's car, where she somehow managed to politely
convince Buffy's friends that now was not the right time for the
explanations that they all craved; Buffy was simply too tired to face
anyone at the moment, and just wanted to sleep for a while.
Inside the DeSoto, Buffy tried to wake Spike enough to make the hurried
dash through the bright mid-morning sunshine into the shelter of the
Summers' house.
"Come on, Sweetheart," she said softly. "We're home. Time to wake up."
He barely stirred – and Buffy was reminded of just how terribly
exhausted he must be right now. She could barely bring herself to move,
either – and she knew that what he had been through had been a far
sight worse than what she had experienced.
On Spike's other side, Dawn began to wake up as well, yawning as she
turned to face her sister.
"We're home?"
The relief was clear in her voice, which suddenly sounded so very young
to Buffy's ears – and she felt a wave of regret for the trauma that her
little sister had to have been through over the course of the last few
days – witnessing the brutality that her sister had committed, being
forced to flee her home in order to escape the Council, being held
hostage in the hotel room...
Yeah. No wonder the poor kid was glad to be home.
Buffy knew the feeling, herself.
"Yeah, Dawnie," Buffy assured her with a smile that was warmer, softer,
than any look she usually gave her little sister. "We're home. Can you
go get the door open and make sure the curtains are drawn? We're gonna
have to make a run for it."
Dawn complied, and within moments the Slayer and the vampire were safe
within the cozy little house. Spike – who had not yet said a word since
their arrival home, and had only moved enough to comply with Buffy's
insistence that they go inside – immediately sank down on the sofa that
had been his bed the night before, lying down and closing his
eyes...ready to go back to sleep.
And Buffy remembered with sudden understanding – after all, this was
the middle of the night for him.
Before he could drift back off to sleep, she crouched down beside him
and shook his shoulder gently. "Spike -- *Spike*..."
"Mmm?" he granted her only a barely coherent mumble of question,
raising his head slightly but not opening his eyes.
She leaned down close to whisper in his ear, "Wouldn't you rather go
upstairs? There's actually room for two up there."
At that, the blonde vampire *did* open his eyes and looked at her
uncertainly, a mixture of surprise, doubt, and mild amusement in his
eyes as he replied in a voice that was husky with sleep, before closing
his eyes and lowering his head again.
"Don't think I'm up for much besides actual sleeping at the moment,
pet..."
"Me, either," Buffy shook her head, giving him a warm, if slightly shy,
smile. "I think I could sleep for a week straight. But..." She hesitated,
looking down for a moment before admitting softly, "... I'd much rather
do it – next to *you*."
Spike did not move or respond for a long moment – before he slowly
opened his eyes again to gaze into hers, rising up slowly to face her,
his expression softening with a look of affection, mingled with a
disbelief that was almost awed.
"Buffy," he began softly – and then found that the power of what he
felt for her would not allow him to go on. He shook his head slowly,
lowering his head to rest against hers, as she ran her hands gently
over his shoulders, her eyes closed, her lips parted, as she fought
back the impulse to claim his mouth with her kiss.
No matter how bad she wanted it, she knew – now was not the time.
"Will you come upstairs," she whispered, the words coming out slightly
breathless, and full of a vulnerability that called out to her mate
with the intensity of their connection. Her lips curved slightly in a
playful smile as she added in a voice that was somehow suggestive and
innocent at the same time, "and sleep with me?"
There was no way that he could have refused her.
He returned her soft smile, his eyes closed, nodding against her brow,
before reaching out to take her arms and pull himself up to a sitting
position – and then rising quickly from the couch completely. But in
his haste and extreme nearness to his mate – he managed to nearly knock
her over backwards in the process.
Buffy let out a little yelp of surprise – which turned into another
musical laugh, as he quickly caught her and steadied her, drawing in
closer to her as he did.
"Sorry, love," he murmured, his face inches from hers, unable to look
away from her emerald gaze, shining with adoration for him.
"It's okay," she whispered back automatically, her eyes shifting
between his eyes and his lips as she put her hands on his waist and
slid even nearer to him, without realizing she was even doing it. "It's
okay..." Her tone was terribly distracted, as her eyes finally chose the
single focal point of his full, parted lips.
"Buffy," he whispered, his gaze following hers to her mouth.
They were both silent for a moment, before Buffy finally broke the
silence with an urgent whisper.
"*Upstairs*," she replied, turning abruptly toward the stairs, clasping
his hand in hers tightly and pulling him along with her.
Within moments, the pair had disappeared up the stairs.
Dawn walked slowly to the foot of the stairs, looking up them
speculatively. "Do you think they even remember that we're here?" she
asked teasingly, as her mother walked up beside her and put her arm
around her.
"Probably not," Joyce replied, shaking her head. "I don't think they're
aware of much at the moment, besides each other. They're gonna need
some time to rest before they'll feel like – like processing
everything."
Dawn pulled slightly away from her mother, giving her a dubious look.
"Rest," she echoed skeptically. "Yeah. They're gonna get a lot of
*rest* this morning!"
Joyce could not suppress the slight wince that crossed her face at the
reminder of the very intense relationship her daughter was now involved
in with yet another vampire.
"Don't remind me, Dawnie," she sighed wearily, turning away from the
stairs and heading for the kitchen. "I'm very happily vacationing in
Egypt at the moment – no need to make me leave."
Dawn frowned after her for a moment, puzzled. "Egypt? Huh?" She
shrugged when her mother made no attempt to respond, casting glances
between the very tempting staircase, and the kitchen door where her
mother had disappeared for a moment – indecisive.
Finally, she cast one last furtive look to be sure that her mother was
not returning yet, before putting her foot on the stairs.
"Dawn," her mother's stern voice called. "Maybe you should go watch
television in the living room for a while."
Her tone left no room for argument.
With a sigh of resignation, Dawn turned and headed into the living room
– marveling at the fact that even exhausted, even after the trauma and
turmoil of the past few days, her sister and her vampire lover were
ever ready to go at it again.
*Kinda gross, actually,* she thought as she sat down on the couch and
picked up the remote control. *Buffy having sex – ewww!*
Five minutes later – she was fast asleep – a mere two minutes after the
weary warriors in the bedroom upstairs.