Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike 30in30: Day 17: Alone, Away, Looking back, The Beginning, and Stay
Word Count: 876
Date Written: 20 May 2017
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Most of the time, Spike tries not to let himself dwell on his past. He's spent whole nights mentally running, and sometimes physically as well, from his past. But then there are times like now, quiet, happy, little times, when he actually lets himself think back -- and smiles.
He finally understands it all now, he thinks, holding his cherished love in his arms. He finally understands why he had to become a Vampire, why he had to have his love tossed back into his face the first several times he dared to try to love. He even understands why Buffy had to die before she could come back and finally open her heart to him.
He couldn't find love in the time in which he was born. Had Buffy's soul inhabited another body back then, it had been nowhere near London, especially nowhere near him. It had taken surviving all the centuries he had, sometimes clawing his way through unbelievable pain and suffering, to bring him to her side. It had taken every loss he had endured and every time she had rebuked him to make him realize the kind of man he still wanted to be, to hush the cries of his inner Demon enough that he wanted to be a better man not just for himself but for her. Of course, that had meant even more trials and suffering, but now at last, everything, from the very beginning when his human mother doted upon him because she believed no one else would and Cecily had thrown his love back at him with cruel rejection and crueler laughter, everything finally made sense and was worse the suffering.
It's all been worth of it. Every moment of pain, every moment of sorrow, of tragedy, of loss, of suffering, it's all been worth it, because now he has her in his arms and, for the first time, she doesn't want him to go anywhere not just because she needs him but because she wants him. The realization brings unshed tears to his eyes and sends words of love tumbling through his mind in bits of poetry that he won't recite now for fear of being laughed at. He won't tell her how much he loves her with poorly chosen words; he'll continue showing her instead with actions that will always last far longer than words.
"You're brooding," Buffy murmurs, looking up at him with a pout.
"No, I'm not," he says quickly. "I've got nothing to brood about, no reason to be upset."
"Then what are you thinking so hard about?"
He strokes her long, blonde hair, glad she's grown it back out again which she did, he knows though she won't admit, because she knows he likes being able to comb his fingers through her hair. "How lucky I am to have you," he whispers, kissing her temple. There. He's said it, but he hasn't tried to speak poetry to her. Maybe she won't laugh at him.
Buffy doesn't laugh; she smiles instead, reaches up, takes her hand in his, and threads their fingers together. Part of him wants to apologize for running from him for so long; the other part just wants to enjoy this moment with him, laying here in silence and just feeling how much he loves her from the way he holds and caresses her. "I'll never send you away again," she vows softly, her words taken even her by surprise.
"Promise?" he asks.
She looks up into his eyes but bites her bottom lip. She's the Slayer. There will be times when she has to send him away for his own protection. "Not unless I have to -- " she starts to say, determined to be honest with them both.
"Buffy -- "
"I'm the Slayer, Spike. It's going to happen sometimes."
"It doesn't have to. Just because you're the Slayer doesn't mean you have to be alone. Isn't that one of the things you've fought for since Day One? That you didn't have to be alone? That you could have your friends and your personal life too?"
She hushes. He is right, after all.
He kisses her temple again, then starts a line of kisses down the side of her beautiful face. In between, he murmurs to her, "You don't . . . have to be alone . . . ever again. Send me away, . . . but I'll stay with you . . . forever . . . no matter what."
"You're right," she says as he comes to a stop, looking directly into her beautiful, green eyes, his nose pressing slightly against hers. "It is what I've fought for."
"Never again," he vows. "I love you, Buffy, and I won't leave you ever."
She beams, letting herself melt for one more night. "I love you too," she whispers just before he takes her lips with his and they begin to make sweet, beautiful love once more. He does love her, and she him, and as their words cease, they show each other with their bodies instead how very much they do love one another and always will. He never did need poetry, Spike realizes, making love to her. He just needed the right woman; he just needed his soul mate.