Spuffy. PG-13. Written for Spikes_sway and fondly dedicated to her.

Proofs


The door of the crypt banged shut behind Spike, and the loud noise was fitting for his mood. He felt very much like shouting, but was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop if he started, and he couldn’t afford that. Buffy would come to him, he was sure of it, and yelling at her when she did would help nothing. It wouldn’t convince her to tell her friends about them. He knew it; he had already tried that road. She hadn’t spoken to him for nearly a week after that, and they hadn’t talked of it afterwards.

Spike had tried not to ask too much from her, tried to let her take as much time as she wanted, as much time as she needed, but as weeks passed and he remained her little secret, he couldn’t help wondering – would she ever tell them? The Scoobies had been decent to him since he had taken that plunge down Glory’s tower to save Dawn. He was sure – or at least, he hoped – that they could come to accept his relationship with Buffy, if she only told them about it. But Buffy still balked at the idea, and tonight had been a painful reminder of that.

They had been patrolling together, bantering between kills, challenging each other with kisses for rewards. A perfect evening, one of many of the same kind, that had come to an abrupt end when they had stumbled on Xander and Willow. The two friends were still mopping over their respective lost loves, each of them having broken up with their girl a few weeks earlier for reasons that, as far as Spike was concerned, were ridiculous. Harris had proposed to Anya, only to back-pedal when she had demanded to set up a day for the wedding, apparently realizing he wasn’t ready. As for Willow, she and Tara had progressively argued more and more about Willow’s use of magic over the last few months, until Willow had gone too far and scared Tara away.

The two Scoobies had clearly decided that joining Buffy on patrol would make for a better evening than crying over their girls at home. Their surprise at finding that Buffy wasn’t alone had been the first blow for Spike; clearly, Buffy hadn’t bothered to mention to them that she and Spike had been patrolling together ever since he had recovered from his fall. The way she had avoided his eyes for the rest of the patrol, practically ignoring him as she talked with her friends, had been the second blow, and Spike had gritted his teeth for a while before deciding that he had had enough. He had stormed away with no more than a glare at Buffy.

“OK, I get it that it runs in your family, but the brooding act? So not your style.”

Stopping his pacing, Spike threw a dark look at the Slayer who was leaning against the door she had just closed much more calmly than he had earlier.

“And apparently, humor isn’t for you either tonight,” she sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry…”

“Are you, now?“ he cut in abruptly, flicking what remained of his cigarette to the ground and stomping on it angrily. “I might have believed you the first couple of times, but I’m not sure I still do, Slayer. What am I, to you? A dirty little secret? A game? Someone to pass time with until you find the guy you won’t be ashamed to introduce to your mates?”

She took a few hesitant steps toward him, shaking her head. “I’m not ashamed,” she said calmly. “And you’re not a game to me.”

He couldn’t help snorting at that; she would need to be more convincing this time.

“I’m not playing with your feelings, Spike,” she insisted. “You do mean a lot to me. And I’ll tell them, I will, just… not now. I’m not ready.”

She had reached him and her hand cautiously came up to rest on his chest. Somehow, the touch seemed to drain the fight out of him.

“You know what it felt like, to be with you and your mates tonight? It felt like everything that happened between us was just a fantasy. That it happened only in my head. I could have told them, I could tell anyone, and none of them would believe me. None of them would believe you’d ever lower yourself…”

Two fingers pressed to his lips stopped him from spilling his thoughts even further, and he was grateful for the gesture. For long minutes, they remained silent, the only contact between them her fingers on his lips that slowly slid across his cheek and up to his scarred eyebrow.

“You want a proof?” she asked at last, her voice so quiet that he could barely make out the words. “A proof that it’s not just in your head, that you’re not dreaming all this, and that you mean more to me than I can express with words?”

He tilted his head into her touch. “Yeah, I want that,” he replied, wondering where she was headed.

She nodded once, and shrugged out of her jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind her. Next came her top, discarded as easily to leave her clad in her boots, jeans and bra. He followed her hand as it came to her neck, and as usual, something clenched inside him when his eyes fell on the scars there.

“You hate these, don’t you?” she said as her fingers brushed against the scars. “You wish they were yours.”

Before he could catch himself, a quiet growl had passed his lips. He still didn’t know where she was going with that, but he wouldn’t have expected that her torturing him like this would be part of it.

“I trust you,” she continued, offering to him her gaze that held nothing more than truth. “I care for you. I…” She gulped, clearly struggling to let the words out, and Spike waited as patiently as he knew how, hoping that this time, maybe… “I love you,” she finally finished, and Spike blinked, now sure that he was dreaming because never in the few months they had been together had she ever said…

“I love you,” she repeated, a little more easily this time. “And I want to prove it to you. I… I want you to bite me. And next time you think you’re dreaming because I’m too much of a coward to tell my friends about us, you’ll know it’s not a dream because the mark will still be there you’ll know that and so will I and…”

It was only with her increasingly faster words that Spike realized she meant it, all of it, and was scared as hell by what she was saying. Scared, but still ready to go through with it to give him this proof he needed. He stopped her ramblings by pressing his mouth to hers, hard and demanding and thankful all at once.

“So, will you do it?” she asked, a little eager, a little anxious, when they broke off the kiss after a few instants. Fingers tangled into her hair to hold it back, he looked at the scars that marred her skin. She was right, he had often wished they had been his, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bite her, or even could.

“I can’t,” he reminded her with a slight shake of his head. “Chip, remember? Can’t lay a fang on you any more than…”

“But it’s not about you hurting me,” she interrupted him gently. “It’s about… something else. And I’m asking for it, I want it, so the chip shouldn’t react, just like when we…” Her voice trailed off and she blushed brightly, giving him a small embarrassed smile.

It was hard not to believe her, not when she had plainly said she wanted it, and still Spike was hesitating. The idea was tempting, of course, he was a vampire after all and she was all but offering her neck on a platter. And that was what was stopping him. He didn’t want to start craving her blood any more than he already did. He didn’t want to think of her as of a tasty snack. And he was afraid that was what would happen if he went ahead and did what she was suggesting.

“You think too much,” she informed him when after a few seconds he still hadn’t moved. “I’m going to start believing you don’t want me.”

“Of course I want you,” he immediately replied. “It’s just… I don’t need that kind of proof, Buffy.”

She observed him for a moment, her gaze unreadable, before she finally said: “OK. You don’t need a proof. But I do. I want to know it’s not just in my head. I want something I can see, or touch when you’re not with me. Will you do it for me?”

There really wasn’t a way for Spike to answer no to that.


(direct sequel coming soon)


Home ~ Spuffy Menu
Your name: 
Your e-mail:
Story you are reviewing:
Reviewing chapter:
Your review:


Please press only once.



The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction. -->