[A/N: Thanks to everyone who waited oooh so patiently for the story to get to this point. Everything that I’ve thrown into the cauldron is going to start bubbling and boiling and. . well, we’ll see whether this will be a bitter brew or something more savory. . . . The title is from a quote by Peter Ustinov, (Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes habit) and the quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers, as always, are in full force and effect.]
Previously: Wesley has gone to meet with Lilah Morgan regarding surgeons; Dawn had a moment with Buffy about Connor; and Drusilla is back in Sunnydale. This picks up exactly where we left everyone.
Book Two. Chapter 22. Tender looks becoming habit.
At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.
Plato
Love is something eternal, the aspect may change, but not the essence.
Vincent van Gogh
To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.
David Viscott
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream, act I, sc. I
There was something interesting that happened to females when infants were introduced. Even females that had never expressed an interest or desire or any other concern about children became enamored with infants. The tinier the better it appeared. Giles was fascinated by the entire process. Buffy was constantly holding the boy, Dawn was usually eager to play with him, Tara was downright motherly and, lo and behold, even the former vengeance demon Anya was reduced to googly eyes and sotto voce behavior. It thoroughly mystified him.
And while he could admit that the baby was kind of cute and appealing, he didn’t see the need to get all starry-eyed over his presence. What was interesting and perhaps of some importance, at least in his opinion, was the boy’s development. He reacted differently when certain people were around, and it appeared his sense of smell was acute, because whenever he smelled his bottle, he howled piercingly, until the bottle was put in his mouth. It was a wonder Spike hadn’t purchased earplugs to block out the sound. And it wasn’t crying. It was howling.
Like he was doing at the moment. Anya was in the kitchen, fixing his bottle, while Giles tried to calm the infant. It was proving unsuccessful. Connor was wriggling in his grasp, howling his displeasure to everything in the general vicinity, including dogs. Giles almost wondered if there was more than vampiric blood shared between Dawn and Connor, because the pitch in each of their shrieks had to be identical.
He was fumbling, awkwardly holding the baby up to his chest, trying to rub his back and pat him at the same time, while trying not to crumble to his knees because of the damage to his eardrums when Anya finally came back into the living room. “Giles. What are you doing?”
“Apparently nothing. Is that bottle done?” The frustration in his voice was evident and he unceremoniously thrust the baby at her. “Here. You take him.”
Anya cocked her head to the side, taking the baby and giving him the bottle all in the same motion, talking to the boy, making insane noises, but her words were directed at him. “Silly Poppa Rupie. . .he doesn’t know how to take care of hungry little babies. . . such a silly old man.”
Giles huffed a bit, when his brain registered what she was saying. “Really, must you?” He took off his glassed, peering at her intently. “I’m not old. Nor am I Poppa anything.”
Anya laughed. It was such a happy sound, one that she hadn’t made in quite some time, and it made him smile in return. She’d been so quiet lately, quite unlike her usual self, and it pleased him now to see her in a better frame of mind. “Giles. You need to lighten up and smile more. Makes you look younger.”
His retort of “well laughter suits you much better than brooding does,” was out of his mouth before he could censor it, and the look on his face made tears well up in Anya’s eyes.
“I haven’t had much reason to smile lately. I just don’t understand.” She looked away from him and he laid a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. He remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. “If you love someone you shouldn’t say mean things. And tell them to be quiet all the time, right?”
“And your relationship shouldn’t be something to hide either.” She looked up into his eyes, trying to find some enlightenment there. “Am I thinking wrongly? These emotions. . sometimes I just don’t understand.”
He was beginning to, understand that is. So he told her. “I think you aren’t wrong. In fact, you’re quite right in believing that being in love shouldn’t be hidden. Its something to celebrate.”
“I used to think so. But now I’m not so sure. I think love hurts too much.” Anya sat down on the couch in a huff, jarring the baby a bit.
“Perhaps you’ve just gone about this all wrong.” He stood in front of her watching her closely.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Anya flushed and looked away from him.
Rupert smiled slowly. “Because I’m just now realizing that you’re an amazingly attractive woman.”
Her gaze snapped up to his and he thought the blush blooming across her face was terribly attractive and distracting. “You are?”
“Yes. I am.” He smiled crookedly at her and sat down on the couch beside her, reaching for the remote. "Shall we watch some television?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Realizing belatedly that Angelus’ minions were deliberately herding him away from Buffy, Spike tried repeatedly to break through and get back to her. His worry for her was uppermost in his mind and even with his superior strength, he couldn’t break through the number of minions blocking his way. It was only when he realized they weren’t fighting him that he actually stopped.
The hum just beneath his skin had become a near shout and Spike whirled around thinking it was some new threat that was causing it. Should have fucking known. Expected it so, why didn’t I recognize it? She was cradled, ironically enough, in the outstretched arms of a winged marble angel. Cradled? She’s bloody lounging there like the bleeding Queen of Sheba.
The sight of Drusilla, ivory skin clad in scarlet and black lace, against a backdrop of pure white marble, normally would have moved him. Would have had him aching to be buried inside her, surrounded by crimson blood. Now, looking at her posed, he felt none of the old pull, none of the old attraction. No pulsing need to join with her. Just a naggingly real fear that something had happened to Buffy. He scrambled mentally, trying to think of a way to extricate himself from this situation.
Playing for time, Spike paced in front of Drusilla. He waited for long moments, wondering what she was up to and why she would plan something like this. And as usual, she didn’t disappoint. “Hullo Spike.”
“Dru” was all he said, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Are you cross with me?” She pouted and where once it would have had him running to smooth things over or on his knees making it up to her, Spike just rocked back on his heels.
“Oh you are. . . . whatever for? Can’t be because I left you William, after all you left me first. Taken by sunshine.”
He remembered the first time she’d said that to him, a very long time ago, long before they’d ever decided to come to Sunnydale. He’d scoffed at her then, completely dismissing her. But he had been taken by sunshine. Call her that all the time. ‘S what she is. My sunshine.
Before he could say anything, Dru slithered away from the statue, flicking her fingers at the minions, dismissing them.
“Why did you come Dru?” He swung his arms wide. “Why bother? For him?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. In the days and weeks following his escape from the Initiative labs, he’d tried everything to get some help – his distress sending reverberations through the bloodlines – yet none had responded, not even her. Instead he’d been forced to seek shelter and asylum from the Slayer. It had been the right thing, but his sire should have cared. “I needed you then and you ignored me. He calls once and you drop everything?”
“Miss Edith said you were already lost.” Drusilla tried placating him, but Spike was beyond caring.
“Fuck that soddin’ doll, Dru.” He looked at her, eyes hard and unfeeling, his nostrils flaring. “For once in your life, Drusilla, just tell me the truth, in plain English.”
“The truth? The truth is a whisper on the wind, a ray of light in the dark. The truth is not for the likes of us.” She was shaking her head, swaying a bit. “The truth already knows you, William. Sunshine and baby flowers. Precious little strawberries.”
Buggering fuck. “Drusilla you are mad as a hatter.” He flung out an arm, gesturing wildly, pointing her eastward. Spike stepped closer, until he was within touching distance. “He will be dust Dru. Leave now while you still can.”
She snapped at him, then giggled. “So brave and gallant, my knight, always protecting his lady fair.”
Spike rolled his eyes, loudly growling his aggravation. “Not yours Dru. Not for a long time.”
Drusilla curled into him, her hands on the duster’s collar. “Always mine Spike.”
He pushed her away, hard enough to make her stumble to her knees. “No Dru. Not then and not now.” He loomed over her, about to say something else when his attention was pulled away. That mouth-watering scent filling his senses was enough to tell him that his Buffy was on her way, he didn’t need her pounding hearbeat to know how close she was.
“Spike?” There was a quavering tone to her simple question, but he heard the tension clearly. Right then, she’s already seen Dru. How’re you gonna fix this one, eh, mate?
“Sunshine?” It took her half a dozen steps to reach his side, but as soon as she was in striking distance he hauled her closer, his eyes roaming over her, checking for obvious injuries. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” The hurt and fear were clearly audible in her tone and Spike knew it was because of the vampire behind him. She must have seen enough to misunderstand, or worse heard Dru’s last comment. He wasn’t hers. Had never really been hers, even when they’d been together. Spike stared down into Buffy’s eyes, his hands holding her shoulders so that she couldn’t possibly turn away from him. At first she wouldn’t look, wouldn’t return his gaze, but he shook her just a tiny bit and she finally looked up at him.
The emotion in his eyes humbled her. And yet there was still that tiny seed of doubt lingering in her mind. This was, after all, Drusilla she had found him with. Had it been Harmony, Buffy wouldn’t have felt it at all. But it wasn’t Harmony. Drusilla was the one constant in his life. And when she was gone. . . would it be Drusilla that he’d run too?
Drusilla was singing softly, swaying in time to a beat only she heard, her voice a bare whisper in the wind, and yet Spike felt no desire to turn away from the woman in his arms. His eyes bore into hers, midnight blue into forest green and he knew, oh yeah, nothin’ was worth losing her over. Not a bleedin’ thing on earth.
Without taking his eyes from Buffy’s Spike said to Drusilla, “go back to where you came from, princess. There’s nothin’ here for you.”
She couldn’t smile at him. Couldn’t make her face change expression. The only thing she could do was let the tears that had been held off by sheer force of will, well up in her eyes.
Sparing neither a glance nor another word for the vampire behind them, Spike moved closer to Buffy and kissed her forehead. Breathing out against her skin, he said, “c’mon kitten, let’s go home.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn was spying again. She stopped at the top of the stairs, straining her ears for any sound from the two adults downstairs, but she couldn’t hear anything. It was driving her crazy, not knowing what the heck was happening in her own house. And this was crazy, whatever it was between Anya and Giles. Well, not in the sense that it was icky, coz it kinda wasn’t. But more crazy because Xander was gonna lose his mind when he found out about it. And really, Giles should know better than this, coz he’s like old. And hey, it was way better than Giles and Joyce getting together. Dawn suppressed a giggle when she realized that had been one of the couples she had thought might have been her real parents. Nope. Sooo glad it wasn’t Giles and Joyce.
Once she’d found out the truth, it made complete and total sense to her. She’d never questioned it, about Buffy and Spike, never even thought to question it. It just made sense. In the hellmouthy, nothing really makes sense sort of way. There were some couples that just made sense to her and some that . . . she couldn’t see. Like Tara and Willow made sense in the same way that Willow and Oz had made sense. In a really weird way, Oz and Tara made sense too, but not in the smoochies kind of way. They sort of just fit together.
Like Buffy and Spike. If there were ever two people who fit together better than those two, Dawn had never seen them. Even though they’d only been together since Buffy came back, it felt like forever. Felt like they belonged to each other. It was so different from when Riley was here. He constantly belittled everything, without even realizing it. He dismissed her friends as useless, even while he tried to be a part of them, and he treated her and Joyce like they weren’t real. Dawn wrinkled up her nose. But hey, Riley was way better than Angel. At least Riley had just treated her like a stupid kid. Angel had treated her like a cross between a meal and an alien. Even knowing that those memories were fake didn’t do anything to making them any better.
Her ears pricked up and Dawn heard movement downstairs. Giles murmured something, then it sounded like he got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Taking the chance that he had, Dawn got up from her seat on the floor and made her way noisily down the steps.
Anya was changing Connor, after the chow hound had downed another full bottle and looked up when Dawn stopped at the doorway. “Hello Dawn.”
“Hey.” In preparation and as a cool cover, she had a full laundry basket in hand, using her chin, Dawn indicated the laundry. “I’m just gonna head down to the basement and you know, do some wash.”
“Okay. That’s a productive thing to be doing.” Anya nodded her head, then went back to her task.
“I’ll just do that then.” Dawn sauntered away, intent on her next target. Giles was in the kitchen, fiddling with the teakettle and obviously searching for something for them to snack on. “There’s cookies in the jar.”
He stood up so quickly that he nearly whacked his head on the cabinet, but managed to miss it by less than inches. “Dawn. You really shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“Right. Coz I was being all stealthy.” She rolled her eyes and pretended insolence. She shrugged. “Anyway. There’s sweet stuff in there. Plus I think Spike has some chocolate hidden somewhere.”
“No. I was just looking for some biscuits.” Giles folded his arms across his chest, contemplating the teenager in front of him. He started to say something, then thought better of it. Judging by the look on his face, Dawn had an idea of what it was, and she decided to stop that idea from blooming into full fledged research.
“I don’t want to talk about it. About Buffy and Spike. Okay?” She moved toward the basement door, then looked at him over her shoulder. “I just wanted to know who I am. Who I really belonged too. It wasn’t anything more than that.”
“All right Dawn. I won’t bring it up unless you want to talk about it.” He understood her need to discover who she was, and who she was part of; it made perfect sense.
His easy agreement seemed to soothe her nerves, because she smiled at him and he was forcibly reminded just who her parents were when the smile ended in a slight smirk. “Thanks Giles.”
She was gone in a swirl of long dark hair, the sound of her feet thudding down the stairs countered by the light tap of Anya’s heels on the kitchen floor. Pausing to wash her hands at the sink, she turned to face him. “Connor’s asleep.”
“Oh good.” Giles suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands and he was relieved when the kettle whistled. “I fixed us some tea.”
“Are you nervous?” Anya studied him carefully, her eyes watching his every move.
“I am.” He fiddled with the kettle, filling the teapot and placing it slowly back on the burner.
“Why? Am I making you nervous?” She smiled brightly at him. “I don’t mean to make you nervous.”
“Its not just you.” Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Giles stopped fiddling and looked directly at Anya. “Its me also. I’ve . . . I’ve developed. . . that is . . . “ oh buck up you git. “You are a beautiful and attractive and intelligent woman Anya. And you deserve much better than Xander Harris could ever give you.”
There. He’d said it. But he wasn’t prepared for her reaction at all, because when Anya burst into tears, Rupert Giles was at a complete loss. On the other side of the basement door, Dawn was silently screaming at him, give her a hug, c’mon Giles, just do it. Somehow, in the cosmic way of things on the hellmouth, he must have heard her, because Giles took two steps toward her and then folded her into his arms.
Peeking one eye through the partially opened door, Dawn pumped her fist once in the air, then with a huge grin, jumped down the entire flight of steps.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were quiet the whole way home, both of them wrapped up in their own thoughts, neither one of them willing to share at the moment. Spike had a feeling he knew what was bothering her, but he wasn’t really sure he wanted to start this discussion anywhere but inside the safety of their own home.
For Buffy, seeing Drusilla had dredged up lots of memories and emotions she didn’t want to face. Not for a very long time. Drusilla had the love of both Angel and Spike and she feared that she would never, ever be able to compete with that, to carve out a place for herself. She’d known, deep down inside, in some way that Angel was more in love with her image than the real deal, but she wasn’t always so sure about Spike. Not that she doubted he loved her, but. . . sometimes the doubt about how long and how deeply would creep in. He’d been with Drusilla for over a hundred years. That was, in itself, an incredible feat. How could she hope to measure up to that? She wasn’t even going to have twenty more years with Spike. And that hurt. Because right now she wanted a. . . lifetime. A real lifetime. She wanted to be able to see Dawn grow up and have kids; hell, she wanted to see Connor grow up. But she wasn’t going to get that. And Spike would have a really long time to forget about her. A really, really long time.
Trudging in the back door, they missed the hurried movements and guilty expressions on the faces of the other two adults, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Giles and Anya bid them a hasty goodnight, slipping out the front door within moments of their arrival, barely imparting that Dawn was downstairs doing laundry and Connor was asleep in the living room.
Spike went to the basement door, telling Dawn they were home then locking up, while Buffy silently collected the infant and drifted up the stairs with him. Normally, since they were home so very early, Spike would have settled himself in front of the television and watched some movies or something, but tonight he didn’t even look at the television. He locked all the doors, left a light on for Tara and followed Buffy up the stairs.
She was just putting Connor in his crib when he walked in the doorway, and he stopped to watch her for a long moment. He knew she was upset about Drusilla, knew it was bothering her but he suddenly couldn’t think of a way to get her to open up. The only light in their room was from the small bedside table lamp and he thought, while watching her, that she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on. Figuring he might as well tell her that, Spike quietly murmured as he closed the door behind him, “you know she can’t hold a candle to you. You are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
For once, he must have said the right thing, because she swung round to face him, her hands on the sides of the crib, her heart in her eyes.
“You are you know.” Seeing the denial on her face, Spike forestalled any vocalized refutation by closing the distance and repeating himself. “Trust me, kitten, she can’t compete with you at all.”
“Really?” Her voice was small and flooded with disbelief.
“Really.” He was standing close to her, nearly chest to chest, his hands resting on hers, his gaze focused intently on her. “Yeah. Really.”
Her eyes drifted closed and Buffy drew in a deep breath. His scent surrounded her, pulling her in and she swayed closer to him, just a little, but it was all the invitation he needed. Swinging up into his arms, Spike moved toward their bed, his words low and gruff against her ear. “If I have to prove it all night, I will.”
Arms around his neck, she nuzzled against the duster, wanting really to feel his skin. She must have made some noise, because he shifted her higher and her mouth sucked on a bit of his skin. He stopped in his tracks, inches from the bed, every nerve in him pulled taut. “Oh god, kitten. Don’t. . . not now.. . jus’ gimme a . . . “
His words ended in a growl when she nipped at the spot just under his ear. Spike couldn’t think, just wanted to feel her under his hands, responding to his touch. His brain was screaming at him to slow it down, but his body wasn’t listening. He moved his hands to grip her by the waist, rubbing his thumbs in circles on her skin. “Love you so much. . . so bloody much.”
Spike kissed her then, his mouth hungry and needy on hers, nipping at her lip, tongue curling against hers. She broke away, pushing the duster off his shoulders. “Spike. . . “
The momentary break gave him clarity. There were some things he needed to say to her, things she needed to understand. “Buffy. . . love, look at me.
He shrugged off the duster, tossing it on the chair behind him, stilling her almost frantic hands. “Hey, sunshine, listen to me. . . “ he caught the fear and tears in her eyes and he knew he had to speak before they got lost in each other. “Kitten, lemme hold you a moment. I want you to understand something.”
She nodded against his chest after burying her face against him, inhaling deeply. “I did love her.” He felt her stiffen in his embrace, but he knew he had to finish this. “I said did. .. . but it wasn’t anywhere near the way I feel about you. She freed me from being nothing, gave me enough to set me free of who I was. But she . . . much as I loved her, I wasn’t first in her heart. Not then. Probl’ly not ever.” Spike knew he was about to lay himself bare for her, but he didn’t care any more. He loved her, every inch, from her shampoo commercial hair to her incredibly powerful little feet; and it was time he made her understand what that meant.
“Dru was my way out. But you kitten, you . . . “ he smiled at her, a real genuine smile and tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at her. “You are everything. You make me feel things I’ve never felt, never thought I wanted to feel. You make me want things I told myself I couldn’t have anymore. I love you an’ I will never stop lovin’ you. Not if I live forever.”
Buffy pulled away from his chest, looking back up at him, tears sliding down her face. “I’ll love you even if you never love me back, kitten. I can’t help it. Don’t want to. Told you once I was drownin’, I meant it.”
Her hands slid beneath his shirt, curving up around his sleek back. She could feel the tension in him, feel that he was nervous about all this and Buffy just couldn’t fight it any longer. “I don’t want to lose you Spike. Not for any reason.”
“You’re not gonna sweetheart.” Inhaling deeply, Spike took one last gamble, and prepared himself for the rejection. “I . . . Buffy. . . “ he had to clear his throat, because the emotion was clogging it and he couldn’t force the words past his tongue, couldn’t even get them to form. . . but then a memory of another time he’d asked her something similar crossed his brain, and Spike grinned internally. Maybe. . . “I love you kitten. An’ I’m askin’ you to hear me out, before you say anythin’.”
Buffy smiled at him, then settled down on the bed, pulling him up after her. Her head hit the pillow and she waited patiently. He hovered over her, held away from her body by the strength of his arms, his face inscrutable. “The bond Dru an’ I shared was only Sire and Childe. . . nothin’ more. She wouldn’t . . . didn’t want to make it anythin’ deeper. An’ after a while I stopped thinkin’ about it.” Spike paused when she started to speak, saying, “Shush. I asked you to wait, yeah? Right then.”
“Stopped wantin’ anything deeper with her. With you, though, its different. All I want is more . . . somethin’ deeper. Something permanent. I want you with me . . no, not turnin’ . . . never that. But, kitten, I want . . . I’m askin’. . . : He slumped a little, his forehead resting against hers, unable to force the question out. Christ, why was this easier hopped up on magics than now? Coz now, you git, it means more.
“Spike?” Her arms were around him and he nearly couldn’t think anymore. “What are you saying?”
He blew out the breath he didn’t need to hold and ruffled her hair in the process. “I’m sayin’, Buffy, that I love you more than anythin’ else and that I want to make this permanent.”
Buffy brought a hand up to cup his cheek, forcing him to lift away from her forehead and look at her. “What are you asking me Spike?”
“Stubborn bint. Gonna make me spell it out for you?” He rolled over then, getting himself into a sitting position against the headboard, then pulled her over onto his lap. “All right then. Not gettin’ down on bended knee, already did that.” Taking a deep breath and not looking away from her, Spike finally spoke. “Guess I should have planned this out better, but . . . Buffy?”
Her smile was soft and full of love, something he never expected to see. “Spike? Would it help if you already knew the answer?”
Without thinking, the words shot out of his mouth, “bloody right it would. Never thought askin’ you to be mine would be this hard.”
Her giggle lit up the room and he realized belatedly what he’d just done. “Oh bollocks.” Spike watched her, then just finally said what he’d been thinking all along. “Wanna make you mine, kitten, want you to be my Mate. That means forever. Always. No matter what happens. We’d belong to each other.”
Please leave a review. I have no other validation than what you give me that this story is any good at all, that anyone likes it, that anyone thinks its worth continuing. I'm struggling with these chapters, because I really don't think they are any good, that any one thinks they are worth posting. So please, please, let me know. Just one little sign that you like it, that's all I ask. Thank you. Nia
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I apologize for this taking so long, some real life issues got in the way, and hopefully they've been resolved. I'd like to thank everyone that's reviewed so far, and Dee and Kristen, I answered your questions in the reviews, so please check the last chapter.