Promises, Old and New

If Buffy had needed more proof that Spike was better, his behavior after she came back from the mall would have been enough. She returned home to find him in front of his computer, as she had thought she would, but there was that little smile on his lips, a smile that usually meant he was planning something and was quite satisfied with himself. Most of the time she ended up enjoying his ideas, but that didn’t mean she liked the anticipation and not knowing what he was preparing. He denied it, of course, giving her a look of perfect innocence that screamed ‘guilty’ even louder than his smile.

The next day wasn’t any better. Worse, even. There was a conspiracy going on, and she was sure everyone knew something she didn’t. Spike must have let Dawn and Steven know about his plans, because they were grinning every time they laid eyes on Buffy. Of course, the stupid grins might have had something to do with the gold ring on Dawn’s left hand middle finger that she had been admiring ever since coming down for breakfast. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

Or maybe not. She did see Spike and Giles conspiring. While they were at the Magic Box, she saw them talking together, too low for her to eavesdrop, and they immediately stopped when she came closer. Even more telling, Giles allowed them to leave in the middle of the afternoon without any protests or lectures about preparing for the apocalypse. There was definitely something going on. So, when Spike asked her to get ready because they were going out, she wasn’t too surprised. What she didn’t expect, however, was the blindfold.

Oh, they had played with blindfolds before, so that wasn’t the real surprise. The surprise was that he led her to the car, instructing her not to cheat and peek. They’d always stayed in the bedroom when playing this game before. Going out with the length of black silk tied in front of her eyes felt strangely exhilarating and a bit scary too.

The ride didn’t last very long, but at the same time it seemed like forever to Buffy. She tried to make him give her hints about where they were going, but he evaded her questions. When she asked whether they would be back in time for patrol, he told her not to worry, that the others would take care of it. The demonic activity had been so low for the last few nights that for all of them to patrol was certainly overkill, so she wasn’t concerned about it. But now she knew that wherever they were going, whatever Spike had planned, it would last at least until night.

At last the car stopped, and Spike asked her to wait inside for him, repeating again that she was not to peek. A few minutes later, he was opening her door and helping her out. Holding her hand, he led her through soft grass that tickled her legs, left bare to mid-thighs by her short black dress. Finally, he pulled off the blindfold, giving her back her sight, and she blinked several times to adjust to the light.

They were on one of the hills on the edge of town. Down in the valley, she could see Sunnydale, looking so quiet and peaceful from up here that no one would have guessed it was the home of so many unholy creatures. Behind the town, the sun was lazily sliding down toward the horizon, though it wouldn’t disappear for another good two hours. And right at her feet, on a large blanket spread out in the grass and sprinkled with red rose petals, was a picnic basket, a couple of glass votives to be lit later, her mother’s champagne bucket with the top of a bottle peeking out from ice, and Dawn’s portable stereo playing a slow song.

She turned to Spike, a bit stunned, and he was watching her, smiling softly. He was wearing a white shirt and tan trousers. She didn’t even know he owned a white shirt, but God did he look gorgeous standing there in the late afternoon sun.

“Dance with me, luv?” he purred, pulling her close to his body without waiting for her answer.

As they swayed lightly to the music, she looked into his eyes and let herself drown in the most beautiful shade of blue, sparkling with love and happiness.

“Thank you,” he murmured after a moment. “Thank you for putting up with me. For being here for me. For helping me through all this. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Without her, Buffy thought briefly, he wouldn’t have been in that position to begin with, most certainly.

“I love you,” she replied quietly.

“Love you too. So much.”

His lips covered hers, soft and warm, his tongue darting out to trace her mouth before slipping in, dancing languidly against her own tongue as they followed the slow rhythm of the music. After a few seconds, he broke the kiss and, sighing, she rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes in contentment. The world could end, she was already in heaven.

After a couple of more songs, they stopped dancing without needing to speak and sat down on the blanket. Spike quickly kicked off his shoes, before gently sliding hers off her feet, unnecessarily but deliciously caressing her calves as he did so. Then he pulled a few containers from the basket, making Buffy very curious. However, he asked her to close her eyes before he opened any of them and she complied, impatient to taste if not see what he had brought.

First she caught the scent of the strawberries, and soon enough a fresh fruit was pressed lightly to her lips. She opened her mouth, taking a bite, and gave a small sound of delight as the sweet savor hit her tongue. He fed her a few more strawberries, his fingers straying sometimes to caress her lips, until she captured one and nibbled on it lightly. Then again, more strawberries, but they were now coated with whipped cream, the soft and fluffy texture contrasting with the slightly rough fruits. His fingers slid in her hair to the nape of her neck, and he pulled her head slightly forward. She shivered when his tongue lazily traced her lips, cleaning the traces of cream that stained them, but to her regret he did not deepen the kiss, and instead let go of her. Then he was back to feeding her, and this time the berries were even sweeter than before, covered in what she quickly recognized was Nutella. She purred her appreciation, and was rewarded by a finger sliding in her mouth, coated in the delicious chocolate treat. She cleaned it slowly, her tongue meticulously and languorously running all over the skin, then suckling on it lightly, and she grinned smugly at Spike’s sharp intake of breath. She opened her eyes then, only to find his burning with desire. Letting go of his now clean finger, she gathered some chocolate on her own, and coated his lips with it. Leaning closer to him, she thoroughly licked his mouth clean, helped in her task by his tongue coming out to play with hers. This time the kiss lingered, the chocolate and berries taste making it even sweeter.

Light fingers ran on her thigh, sending shivers through her body, then traveled up to her hip, grazed her side lightly before caressing her breast with a feather touch. She moaned softly in his mouth, leaning forward a little. He hadn’t touched her so intimately since they had claimed each other as Mates. Since they had become human again. Way too long.

Suddenly both his lips and hand left her, and her eyes snapped open as a whimper escaped her throat. She understood his purpose however, and waited as patiently as she could while he put the rest of the food safely away in the basket. As soon as he was done, her hands were on him, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing pale and soft skin on which she left a trail of burning kisses. As she did so, he was not idle, and fumbled with the zipper that ran down the back of her dress, until he finally could pull it off her. As she knelt in front of him, clad only in black satin underwear, his eyes ran over her hungrily, but nothing more than his eyes. Deciding to help him a little, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders, and the gleam in his eyes turned almost predatory as he crawled to her, pushing her softly until she was laying on her back and he was hovering over her, and she thought that if he didn’t touch her soon she would start screaming.

As if he had heard her, his fingers trailed on her bare skin, raising goose bumps all over her body. She arched her back, trying to increase the contact, and he smiled with something that very much resembled self-satisfaction. But Buffy didn’t care at that moment, because at last his right hand was applying pressure in all the good places, and his mouth was descending on her, first capturing a few moans as they escaped her lips, then gliding down her throat to the faint scars that marked her as his. His tongue caressed them lovingly, and each slow lick sent quivers of delight down to her toes. By the time he nibbled on the mark, she was wriggling under him, trying vainly to pull him down on her body. When he abandoned her neck to kiss his way to her breast, she changed her approach and slid both hands between them, quickly finding the fastenings of his pants and undoing them. She was quite satisfied to discover that at least one thing hadn’t changed in his clothing habits and that he hadn’t bothered with underwear.

His mouth torturing her nipples in turn was maddening, as was his hand tugging her panties down ever so slowly, but somehow she managed to completely remove his pants, using hands and feet in desperate movements until he was gloriously naked and finally pressing his body to hers, flesh to flesh.

His lips left her skin, his eyes coming up to look into hers. There was no need for words. Her legs parted and he slid between them, tantalizingly slow, until he was completely sheathed inside her, and he was home. She locked her hands behind his neck and raised her hips tentatively. He matched her movement, his eyes never leaving hers, and settled in a lazy rhythm, slow but deep strokes that soon had her breathless. One of her legs found its way around his back, changing his angle slightly, encouraging him to increase his pace, which he obligingly did. Quiet words started to escape his lips, light caresses on her soul, more tender than any touch could be. But eventually all that came out of his mouth were panting and moans that matched her own. Her release took Buffy by surprise by its suddenness and pulled a cry, his name, from her lips. Her body still quaking under his, he followed her over the edge with a wordless shout.

Resting by his Slayer’s side, arms and legs still tangled, Spike was watching her closed eyes and smiling lips. Every now and then, she was making these small noises, and he knew if she had still been a vampire she would have been purring. And he would have, too. She shivered lightly, and snuggled closer to him.

“Are you cold, luv?” he whispered.

The sun was rapidly sinking toward the horizon, and the air was getting a bit fresh.

“A little, but you’re all warm and nice and snuggly.”

As if to prove her point, she rubbed her face against his chest, and he chuckled lightly. She protested when he pulled out of her embrace, and again when he sat down and made her sit between his legs, her back to his chest. But when he wrapped the spare blanket around her and she took in the sight they were now facing, her complaints ceased and she snuggled against him contentedly. The setting sun seemed to have lit a fire in the whole sky, and the clouds above the horizon were burning with bright reds and oranges.

“It’s beautiful,” Buffy murmured dreamily. “It looks like the night you turned me.”

He tightened his arms just a bit around her. He hadn’t been able to see her last sunset then, but at least they could share this one.

All too soon, the show was over, but neither moved. The CD had stopped playing long before and now only the sounds of nature surrounded them. A few birds singing the arrival of dusk. Cicadas. The sounds of their breathing.

“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

She hesitated a second before answering, and turned her face from its place against his shoulder, until she could see his.

“I was thinking,” she said slowly, almost cautiously, “that we are both human now. And when humans do the things we’ve been doing…”

Her voice faltered and he frowned, not understanding what she was saying.

“How would you feel if I became pregnant?” she asked finally.

His eyes widened as realization hit him. He had accepted long ago that he would never father children, and barely ever thought about it after that. Since his humanity had been restored, his mind had been too crowded to even think of that little detail. How would he feel? He had no idea, truthfully. What kind of father would he make? He didn’t want to listen to them, but he heard what they said, that he was a killer and had no business and no right creating life. And a child would make his return to life more real, for some weird reason, more definitive, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Being human still felt like a bad dream at times. Yet it wouldn’t be just his child. It would be hers too.

“It would be nice to have a little Buffy,” he said slowly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “That is, if you wanted a baby. Do you?”

She turned a little more in his embrace, one of her arms sliding around his back, the other hand coming out of the blanket to caress his face.

“Never thought about it before,” she admitted with a smile. “But yes I would enjoy making a child with you.”

His hand glided to her belly and rested there, stroking lightly, and he briefly wondered whether they had created life together already. For a little while they were silent, until she finally asked:

“What about you, what are you thinking?”

That was a difficult question. So many thoughts were cluttering his mind. At least the voices were subdued, and he was grateful for that relative peace.

“I’m thinking this is the first time that I ever was in a position to have a child.”

She tilted her head up a little, and he guessed the raised eyebrow more than he saw it.

“Yes,” he answered with a quiet smile. “William died a virgin. You were the first human I ever shagged as a vampire, and again now as a human.”

Her lips came up to his, pressing softly for a second, and then she said:

“So I was your first twice. I think that calls for a repeat.”

The grin was clear in her voice, and already her fingers were finding places to explore, but he had another idea. This seemed like the perfect time.

“Wait, luv. I had another kind of repeat in mind…”

Reaching out to the picnic basket without letting go of his hold on Buffy’s waist, he fumbled inside until he found the lighter he had stuck in there, and quickly lit the two votive candles, bringing some light to their cocoon of warmth and love. Reaching again to the basket, he pulled out this time a small velvet covered box.

“You never gave me the other one back, so I guess we could pretend we’re still engaged,” he said softly as he opened the box and pulled out a ring. “Or I could ask you again. Buffy, luv, will you marry me?”

For one thing, he wasn’t on one knee in front of her. For another, they were both naked as the day they were born on top of a hill and not in the middle of Giles’ living room. But it was the same surprise and awe on her face. And the same words that she had said then, now with a small smile tugging the corner of her lips.

“It’s so sudden,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say yes,” he played along, smiling, “and make me the happiest man on earth.”

He slid the ring on her finger, and she breathed a quiet ‘yes’ before throwing her arms around him and kissing him wildly. Repeat, it was.

Lying on her stomach under the blanket, Buffy watched the piece of gold on her ring finger gleam lightly by the flames of the candles. On his side and pressed against her, Spike threaded his fingers with hers, before pulling her hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss to the ring.

“It’s made of three interlocked gold bands,” he whispered. “Pink, yellow, gray. One for the woman, one for my Slayer, one for my Mate.”

She rolled to her side and rested her head against Spike’s arm, her hand pressed right above his heart.

“We can get one just like it for you,” she suggested softly.

The air of the night was fresh on her face, but enclosed in the comfort of his arms and under the blanket she felt warm and contented. His fingers were playing on her back, so soft, so nice.

“Would you have asked me if we had remained vampires?” she asked a bit sleepily.

“’Don’t know, pet. We were Mates. That would have been enough for me. Would you have wanted me to ask you?”

“’F course,” she mumbled. “Pretty dress. Bridesmaids. Not green though. Wind…”

Spike watched his Slayer’s eyes flutter close as she muttered something about songs and cake. Caressing her face lightly, he pulled a strand of hair away from her face, and she moaned at the touch. Quietly, he recited words he had memorized, wondering whether she could hear him still.

“I promise you salt from my kisses
I promise you honey from my hands
I promise you blue skies in your dreams
Flowers and lace, tender nights for you
I promise you my soul and the key to its secrets
I promise you my life, laughter and tears alike
I promise you fire instead of fights
I believe in us like I believe in the sun
I believe in us like a child believes in heaven
I believe in us, in your skin, your arms around me
I just promise you a different story
If you will help me believe again

I promise you days as blue as you veins
I promise you nights as red as your dreams
Burning hours, white minutes
Careless seconds in the rhythm of your hips
I promise you my hands to carry your fears
I promise you my eyes if you cannot see
I promise you happiness if you lose hope
I believe in us like I believe in the sun
I believe in us like a child believes in heaven
I believe in us, in your skin, your arms around me
I just promise you a different story
I so need you to believe again

And even if it’s not meant to last
Even if our fates are sealed
If words are as faint, as light as the wind
Even if our story ends that day
I promise you for a while softness and fever
At least a few hours, if not forever”

Buffy stirred in his embrace and smiled, her eyes still closed but obviously not sleeping.

“Promise?” she whispered.

“I promise.”