Buffy's True Love

Chapter 16

“So, what did Paloma say to you, kitten?”

Buffy shrugged, continuing to stroll down the beach back toward their house. She’d been quiet since they’d returned, and a short while ago requested if they could go for a walk. It was a little past midnight. The night air was cool as it blew in a gentle breeze around them. Buffy wore a sweater wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her feet bare as she walked along the edge of the waves, not seeming to mind as the water lapped around her ankles.

The moon hung over them, illuminating their way as they walked in near silence. Each time Spike attempted to start a conversation, she would give monosyllabic answers or just not say anything at all. She didn’t seem upset or angry, more contemplative than anything. It just bugged him that she wasn’t letting him into her thoughts. He sighed, rummaging in his pockets for his cigarettes. A habit he gave up for awhile when he first returned, now it was a necessary relief from the memories that haunted him.

Buffy’s hand wrapped around his before he could light up, taking away the cigarette and tucking into her pocket.

“Don’t,” she said, looking up at him. Her eyes filled with curiosity. “She said that one day I’ll have to return.”

“Don’t you want to…one day?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy shrugged, turning her gaze to the ocean. “I guess I knew I had to, but it seemed like something I didn’t need to worry about right now.”

“You don’t.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s all going to work out, you know? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, taking his hand as she started walking again. Spike was beginning to get an inkling of what was going through her mind. Buffy had learned over the years to strategize, to plan things out, and already she was figuring out her debut back into the world she’d left behind only a few short days ago. He looked up to see home only a few feet away. The lights welcoming them back home as they made their way inside.

Considering the hour, Spike figured Buffy would be ready to go to bed. He began to prepare the house for the night while she disappeared into the bathroom. His nightly routine was very carefully followed to keep them both safe. Double-checking to make sure that the windows and doors were locked, and that the motion detector floodlights were turned on. There was also the small thing of the traps set around the perimeter. It wasn’t just that someone might come after Buffy, but that there were things that might come after him. After all, he’d survived, and knew things he shouldn’t know. Things he didn’t want to know, but did anyway. If he wasn’t careful, those things could kill him. Once he was done checking everything, he ended up in the kitchen, heating up a mug of blood before bed, when Buffy joined him.

She had changed into silk pajamas that were too large for her. The sleeves covered her hands while the hem of the pants dragged on the floor. She resembled a lost little girl with no makeup and her hair loose around her face. He smiled at her, but she didn’t return it. Tilting his head, he studied her, and asked, “What’s up, pet?”

“I need to know,” Buffy said, laying a hand across her heart. “I hear you, but I’m not sure…not yet anyway.”

“Not sure of what?”

“That you’ll never leave me.”

“I told you I won’t,” Spike responded, reaching for her. She sidestepped him, moving to the other side of the kitchen. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“You just did,” Buffy said in a hushed voice. “You said you would never hurt me,” she turned her head away, shielding her eyes from his scrutiny. “But yet you did.”

Spike was about to turn away when she met his eyes with a steeliness that curled in the pit of his stomach.

“Shall I go on?”

“No, Buffy. What is your point?”

“How do I know you’re not lying now…about loving me? About wanting to be with me forever, through anything, and everything. How do I know you won’t deny my love again?”

“How do I know you won’t decide that I’m an evil thing again?” Spike responded, with a shrug. He didn’t know what else he could do to prove how much she meant to him. At some point, they were just going to have to trust each other, and build on it from there. “You’ll have to take me at my word.”

“They all said that,” Buffy said. She scanned the room frantically as if the answer she was searching for was hiding, and she could find it so that all would be right in her life again. “They all lied.”

“I’m not them.”

“But you say the same thing,” Buffy said. She breathed a sigh, reaching for a plate in the drainer then dropping it on the floor. “What if I make you angry?” She took a cup next, met his gaze, and then let it fall to the floor. “What if I disappoint you?” Next was a drinking glass. It shattered in tiny shards next to the larger ones of the plate. “What if I’m not the girl you fell in love with anymore?” This time she swept the entire drainer to the floor.

Spike wasn’t sure what to do for a second. Her actions were begging for a reaction from him, but his mind was lagging in trying to follow what she wanted. It took him a second and her reaching for the cabinet above her to make him connect everything. He could walk away and she would never feel secure or he could prove that he would stand by her no matter what. He grabbed her arm so hard; she practically sailed over the broken dishes at her feet. Her gasp didn’t make him slow down, her stumbling didn’t make him stop, nothing did until he yanked her into the dining room.

It wasn’t something he’d ever planned on doing, but she was begging for the security, leaving him no choice. He sat on a chair and dragged her over his knee. She struggled, but not enough to make him let go.

“You were told the rules,” Spike scolded, putting one hand on the middle of her back. He drew the other one back. “You were a bad girl.” He smacked her hard on the ass. She jumped but didn’t pull away. “Now you have to be punished.” The next smack drew a whimper from her, but she accepted what he was doing. He counted each time his hand met the supple flesh of her behind. Then gave up when his hand burned from the unaccustomed ritual. He stopped, pushing her to the floor. “Are you going to behave now?”

Buffy was crying. Sobs that shook her shoulders and made her breath come in gasps as she scrambled away from him. He didn’t react. He couldn’t. She stood, staring at him, but he knew with a sick heart that it wasn’t enough. Even Angel, Giles and her father had punished her, given her rules but gave up when she was too headstrong follow them. They all left her when she thought she could count on them, and she was too afraid of letting down her walls to him, then losing him in the end.

This time his lamp hit the floor. “What? You think that’s some kind of punishment? You haven’t even begun to hurt me,” Buffy screeched, reaching for some knick knacks on the shelf, and he lunged for her, pulling her against him. She raged, as he dragged her across the floor. “You fucking coward. I should just dust you.”

Spike slammed her against the wall, shaking the painting next to them. It almost fell but then stayed, hanging crooked as it clung precariously to the nail in the wall.

“Is that what you want?” He snarled, pinning her with his weight. “To dust me? Oh, that would solve everything wouldn’t it? You could hide in that bloody shell of yours, saying that there isn’t anyone alive strong enough to handle you? Is that what you want? Because we can fight, but remember that I’ve killed two slayers before you, and I’ve never let you see my full strength.”

“You’ve never seen mine either,” Buffy said defiantly, staring at him with trembling lips and fearful eyes. She was going to take this to the end, and he searched his mind for what to do with her to get his point across without resorting to blood.

“So, do we fight?”

Buffy only shook her head, relaxing her body so that he knew she wasn’t going to fight whatever punishment he meted out. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but knew there were worst things, and hoped he never had to resort that far. He pulled her to the corner, forcing her to face it.

“On your knees,” Spike instructed. She obeyed. “Put your forehead on your knees, and your arms behind your back…hands crossed.”

It was an uncomfortable position and it wouldn’t take long for her muscles to scream at her. But as long as she would accept this, he wouldn’t have to resort to restraints.

“Don’t move until I tell you that you can,” Spike squatted beside her, and whispered. “Do you understand, bitch?”

“Yes.”

It was all she was allowed to say, and it broke his heart to see her this way, but if punishment was what she needed then he would dole it out until she felt safe with him and the love he offered. Standing, he hurried to the back verandah, and the comfort of nicotine. He shook under the impact of this latest turn in their relationship.

He stared unseeing at the ocean as his mind turned backwards, filtering through the years of knowing Buffy and wondering why she was the one. Why was he willing to take so much pain for her? Why didn’t he just walk away from her like everyone else? He took a deep drag of his cigarette as he let his heart answer for him. Because she needed him. There wasn’t anyone else in her heart and life before him. Unlike Drusilla, he was the only one for her, and they both knew it. Buffy wanted it. Craved it like the air she breathed, and he never had to worry about walking in to find her fucking someone else. Or coming to him saying she was taking off to find her pleasures elsewhere. He was her salvation, her partner, and the lover who had truly taught her what the flesh was made for. And for that, he would always love her.

Hanging his head, he stared at his feet for a moment while he tried to decide what his next move would be. He couldn’t just go to bed, or take off, or even enjoy himself while she was being punished. It was ripping him apart, but he couldn’t let it end until he knew every muscle in her body was screaming at her to move. He cursed every man who came before him, and did this to her, and he swore that soon she would be the woman she was meant to be. Then their lives together could truly begin. That made him smile, as he fantasized what it would be like to live with a happy Buffy. A Buffy who wasn’t afraid of being alone, of her mission, and of being alive. It would be a turning point for him, too, because finally the man he once was would have the love he’d dreamed about with the remnant dreams of the lost poet he kept hidden inside.

In the end he didn’t move. He stayed on the back steps, watching the waves, listening to her breath, and waiting for the right moment. Dawn was approaching before he made his way back into the living room. She hadn’t moved. He could feel her pain as if it was his own. He heard her quickly inhale, holding her breathe as she waited to see what he would do.

Spike didn’t make her wait. He knelt beside her, but didn’t touch her.

“Are you done being a bad girl, Buffy?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Her body quivered under the unexpected movement, even as small as it was. “Sir,” she added when he didn’t respond immediately.

“Spike is fine,” he instructed. He didn’t want to play superiority or Daddy games with her, just give her what she needed so she could find her way again. “Do you know what you need to do?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, then you can get up. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

He got up before he could give into the temptation of helping her get up. He heard her stumble against the wall before she was able to work out the kinks of her aching body. By the time she got into the kitchen to start cleaning up the mess, he was naked and waiting in their bed. He listened to her every move while she worked. Then finally, she returned to their room. He pulled back the covers in a silent invitation, and she hurried to crawl in next to him. There weren’t any words between them as she molded herself to his side. Her arm was over his waist while her face was buried against his shoulder. He held her tight, kissing her forehead as he gave her the reassurance she needed. There wasn’t going to be any sex, just him holding her tight as she drifted off to sleep.

to be continued…