First Time
In penance for yesterday's angst, today I offer Spuff.
Spike opened one eye and saw Buffy standing over him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she answered. “I brought you some blood. Don’t worry, it’s pig.” She handed him the mug with the straw and put the other bags on the end table, as he propped himself up on one elbow. “Feel any better?”
“Starting to heal. How long was I out?” He took a long draw from the straw and smiled. “Better.”
Buffy sat on the edge of the bed. “All day. And half the night. It’s ten o’clock.” She carefully pulled up the edge of his bandage. “The wounds have closed. I think we can take this off.” Gently, she peeled the tape from his chest, rolling the bloody gauze and dropping it into her wastebasket. She pressed her fingertips near the edge of one of the markings. “This hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not really.” He stared at her hand touching his flesh, and she pulled back. “House is quiet. Niblet asleep already?”
“Out. With Willow. They went to stay at Anya’s.”
Spike pushed himself up, trying to get off the bed. “I should go, then.”
“No.” She pressed her hand against his breastbone, careful not to touch the cuts. “They left so we could be alone. I asked them to.”
He looked at her in confusion. “Bet Bit hated that.” He tried to read the expression on her face. “Why?”
“We never finished our conversation.” She sat farther onto the bed, curling her legs under her. “What you said before you fell asleep. About who you were. That was true?”
“Every word,” he replied.
“So what you told me at the Bronze that night, William the Bloody, street orphan and general punk. That was a lie?”
He looked away. Took a sip of his blood. “Couldn’t very well tell you that old Spike was a lovesick poet. And a bad one.”
Putting two fingers under his chin, she turned his face back towards her. “Explains a lot. Now.” To his total surprise, she took the mug from his hand and placed it on her nightstand, then pressed her lips to his.
He pulled away. “Buffy, don’t. Not now.” His eyes were filled with pain. “Please. I can’t play any games. Not anymore.”
“No games.” She leaned back on the bed, lying on her side. Contemplating him. “You were wrong. In my basement. I don’t hate you. And I do believe in you. More than ever.”
“Then be my friend.”
A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “I hope I am.” She laid her hand on top of his. “I told you something once. Told you I could never trust you enough to love you. I was wrong.”
“What are you saying, Buffy?”
“I believe in you. I trust you.” She took his hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. “And I do so love you.” The warmth in her eyes matched his. “You’re crying.”
“So are you.” It was like he had seen all the coldness in her face from the last year melt away. “Is it true? I mean, I believe you. I just don’t believe this.” He inched closer to her, as he cupped her cheek in his palm. “I think I’m still asleep.”
“Then I like this dream.” She shifted until she was right beside him. Draped her arm around him. “Tell me if this hurts.”
He shook his head. “Nothing has ever hurt less.”
“So,” she smiled. “A Victorian gentleman. Living with his mother. Writing poetry. You wild man.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Buffy. I haven’t been that William for a long, long time. I’ve been a very wicked person. Don’t romanticize me.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” He started to pull back again, but she held him close. “And I know who you are.” She touched her forefinger to his lower lip, then dragged it down his chin, down the small of his throat, his chest. “So, crazy Dru, then Harmony. I know how you felt about her.”
“I hurt her. I know that. I was evil.”
“You should have known her in High School.” She nuzzled his neck. “Evil.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “And there were others?”
“A few. Nobody important. Nobody I...”
“Loved.” She sighed against his chest. “Can I make love to you, Spike?”
He didn’t know what to say. How to answer. How to tell her it would be his greatest dream come true. So he only asked, “Do you really want to?”
She answered with her kiss. Her gentle, loving kiss.
“Yes, Buffy,” he answered. “Oh, yes.”
“Good,” she smiled, as she caressed him. “Then I’ll be your first.”