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Because He Needs Me by DreamsofSpike
 
With Feeling
 
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When Dawn walked into the living room the following afternoon, just having returned from school -- she was both stunned and amazed by the strange sight that met her eyes.

The television was on, quietly, showing some vapid talk show host introducing a panel of guests who looked like the population of the local trailer park, while a colorful little box in the bottom left hand corner of the screen proclaimed proudly, “My boyfriend cheated on me with my mother -- and my sister!”

But as shocking as that statement was, it was not what had gained the attention of the youngest Summers.

Dawn had no way of knowing how the evening before had gone for her sister and Spike -- how the two of them had ended up falling asleep in each other’s arms far before they usually would have gone to bed, and how that had resulted in their waking up in the pre-dawn hours of that morning -- and how that unusually early rising had resulted in the impromptu nap on the couch that had overtaken them both about an hour earlier.

All Dawn knew was that Spike and Buffy were sound asleep on the couch, Buffy’s head rested comfortably against his chest, and Spike’s hand still, but tangled lightly in her soft blonde hair.

They were *together*.

Touching.

“Finally,” she muttered, rolling her eyes and heading for the stairs to do the homework she had completely neglected the night before, in order to be able to turn it in the next morning -- only one day late.

*Oh, well -- sleepovers aren’t meant for studying, anyway…*

She had seen the tension building between them over the past few weeks; it had been completely obvious that they were both just forcing themselves to hold back from touching each other. Buffy had been desperate to reach out and comfort Spike, but afraid that he would reject her attempts; and Spike had clearly been aching for that comfort, but afraid of what accepting it might mean for their fragile, tentative friendship -- and whatever might come beyond it.

She had no idea how, in one night of her absence, they had managed to get past those things -- but she was very, *very* glad that they had.

**************************************

“How would you feel about a movie tonight, love?”

Buffy glanced up at Spike in surprise across the kitchen counter, as she placed a warmed mug of blood in front of him and reached for the sandwich she had already made for her own lunch. With an effort, she kept her expression calm and even, trying very hard not to get her hopes up too high. But…

*Is he -- is he asking me out on a *date*?*

It had been almost a month since that fateful night when Spike had finally accepted her comforting arms around him, finally decided to allow her to be close again -- and over the course of that month, that closeness had become more and more comfortable between them.

It was nothing, now, for one of them to reach out to the other in certain moments -- a light squeeze of the shoulder, a brief (or not so brief) grasping of one’s hand, a gentle hug to show support for what the other might be going through…all were quite common by this point, and gratefully accepted by both. Their tentative friendship had developed into a bond that was close and intense and deeper than what one might call “just” friendship.

A month ago, Buffy had never expected to have this much with Spike again.

Problem was -- she was finding it harder and harder not to want so much more.

And there had been moments in which it had seemed as if things were going to change between them, move to a level that they had deliberately avoided thus far -- moments when the two of them would find themselves alone, and some look passed between them, some sequence of tender words, would draw them into a place so sweet, so intimate…

But then, without fail, Spike would abruptly withdraw.

Oh, certainly, much more kindly than before. He would make a gentle joke, or playfully tickle her -- something to effectively disarm the building situation, turning it into something much more harmlessly friendly, without hurting her feelings in the process.

At least -- he didn’t *know* that he was hurting her feelings.

Apparently, he didn’t know how badly she wanted the intimacy that he had been so consistently rejecting.

*Until -- until now?* she wondered, biting the inside of her lower lip as her mind raced to decide how best to respond to his question.

*It’d be easier if I knew exactly how he *meant* the question,* she thought ruefully. *Does he -- is he really trying to ask me out on a date?*

“Um -- that sounds nice, actually,” she replied finally, careful not to sound too overly excited at the prospect. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out for an evening -- you know -- slaying aside.”

“Yeah, that’s sort of what I was thinking,” Spike nodded with satisfaction, taking a sip from his mug before meeting her gaze. “I haven’t been to a movie theater since -- well, since the first days of Technicolor,“ he laughed ruefully. “And I know I’d like to -- and I’m sure the Bit could use a little time with us, yeah? She’s been spending entirely too much time with that little Janice bint.”

Buffy blinked, but gave no other indication of her surprise at the implications of that statement -- or her disappointment.

*So -- not a date then…*

“You’re right,” she agreed sincerely -- because she really did agree with him about Janice -- but she fought to keep the tears from her eyes as she casually continued the conversation. “I don’t like that girl, she’s nothing but trouble for Dawnie. But -- if I forbid her from seeing her, it won’t stop her, will it?”

“No,” Spike agreed with a grim sigh. “She’ll still find a way to do what she wants, if she wants it bad enough. Best bet is just to keep her distracted when we can, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “Yeah -- a movie sounds good. What should we see?”

*********************************

A few hours later, the three of them were making their way down a darkened hallway into the crowded movie theater, with the advantage of Spike’s enhanced vampire sight to lead them. Dawn walked ahead of Spike, guided by his hand on her shoulder, while Buffy trailed slightly behind him, her hand clasped lightly in his, in order to keep them together until they reached their seats.

She was almost disappointed when they did.

*Not a date…not a date…* she kept reminding herself firmly -- but she found that once she had gotten the idea into her head, her heart did not seem willing to part with it.

The only seats that seemed to be left in the crowded room were a few at the end of an aisle near the back of the theater -- and there were only two together, though there was one directly in front of those two. It seemed to be as close as they were going to get to the three of them sitting together.

For Buffy -- it was more than close enough.

It seemed that Dawn felt about the same way, as she immediately took the single seat in front, without glancing back, as her sister and Spike exchanged a strangely shy look, before smiling a bit awkwardly and sitting down behind her.

Buffy already could feel the disappointment of loss, expecting to lose the contact of his hand in hers now that they had found a seat, and there was no further need for it.

Except -- that loss didn’t happen.

Spike’s hand stayed wrapped gently around hers, resting on the armrest between them, his thumb stroking lightly over the back of her hand, even as his eyes focused calmly on the wide screen in front of them. He did not even seem aware of the gesture, as if it was a simple act of friendly affection, the same as he might have offered to Dawn, had she been sitting beside him instead.

*God, does he *know* what he’s doing to me?* Buffy wondered with a mingled sensation of joy at the contact, and frustration at how he likely *saw* that contact. *Just my friend…he’s just my friend…stupid Buffy…watch the movie…just watch the movie…*

It was a dark horror film that would have been frightening, had the three of them not been so familiar with the real horrors that surrounded them all the time. Really, Buffy had to admit that the special effects were quite well done, and her fifteen-year-old, pre-calling self would have found it quite terrifying. She was vaguely aware of the fact that if circumstances had been different, she never would have allowed her younger sister to witness the bloodshed and intense horror of the film they had chosen.

But while the others movie-goers cringed and covered their eyes, Dawn stared at the screen with a vaguely bored expression on her face, idly tossing popcorn into her mouth.

She had seen much worse than this in her two years of actual existence.

After a few moments she rolled her eyes with a weary sigh, turning in the pitch blackness of the theater toward her sister and her surrogate brother, squinting slightly as her eyes took a bit to adjust to the darkness, due to the rather small amount of light generated by the dark movie scene in front of them.

“Please,” she hissed in a stage whisper. “I’ve seen real monster blood, and that doesn’t even come *close* to looking real! I mean, you’ve squashed bugs with better guts than that! Of course -- they were demon bugs the size of rabbits, but…”

Dawn’s voice trailed off, as her eyes finally adjusted -- and she realized that Spike and Buffy had been taking full advantage of the scant lighting in the room, focusing almost entirely on either other…and also that neither one seemed to be aware she had even spoken at all.

Smiling to herself, she turned around and did her best to pay attention to the rather inane and entirely not scary movie.

“Come on,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s like they’re not even trying…”

*******************************

*Don’t try too hard, Buffy,* the Slayer was silently urging herself, trying as hard as she could not to completely lose herself in the intent, earnest gaze of the vampire at her side. *Just -- just let him take the lead here -- let him decide when he’s ready…*

They had been talking softly in whispered tones since they had taken their seats, and the quiet, soft intimacy of the darkness and whispers and closeness was having a definite effect on both of them. The movie went mostly ignored, as they found themselves edging closer to each other, gradually losing themselves in each other’s presence, as they had done so many times before.

Except -- this time -- the moment seemed to stretch on just a tiny bit longer…

Whatever Spike had been saying -- which Buffy had not really been hearing, anyway -- slowly faded away, as his eyes drifted from hers to her soft, slightly parted lips, and he found his body instinctively leaning him toward her, and hers pulling her insistently toward him, until their lips were no more than an inch apart, both sets of wide eyes focused with longing apprehension on the elusive point of contact that was not yet.

“Buffy,” Spike whispered suddenly, pulling just slightly away from her, though they were still close enough that she could feel the cool brush of his breath against her own lips -- and both knew what was coming, if they allowed it to come. “Buffy, love…maybe we should…”

“What?” Buffy cut him off in a hoarse, almost desperate whisper, her wide eyes of darkened jade glittering in the darkness, inches from his own. They were so close, and she wasn‘t sure that she could make herself deny it again. “Wait? Spike, we’ve *been* waiting…how long do you want to wait?”

She inwardly cringed at her own words the moment after she had spoken them -- but she was not exactly sorry that she had let them out.

“I -- I don’t know,” he whispered, breaking eye contact with her, swallowing hard as he drew back a bit further. “Buffy, I -- this isn’t the place…”

Buffy hesitated a moment, warring parts of her heart and mind telling her both to back off, to allow him to make the decision as to whether or not their relationship might move further at this point -- and to take the initiative and push just that tiny bit that her instincts were telling her it would take to move them forward.

As always -- she found that she was a woman of action.

Her lips set firmly as she tightened her hand slightly around his and rose to her feet, pulling him to his own and out into the aisle before he could even begin to protest. As she started to pull him gently but insistently toward the back exits into the hallway, Spike finally seemed to find his voice again.

“Buffy,” he whispered loudly. “What are you…?”

“Come on,” she replied in a stage whisper to match his. “We need to talk this out.”

“Talk *what* out?” he replied, his jaw setting stubbornly as they came to a halt in the darkened, empty hallway. “We’re going to miss the movie…”

“Oh, like you were actually watching it!” Buffy countered, her eyebrows raised in a challenge as she met his gaze.

“Maybe I was!” Spike shot back defiantly.

“What’s the main character’s name?” Buffy demanded without hesitation. When Spike could only sputter out a non-answer to the rather simple question, she continued, “Half an hour into the stupid flick and you don’t know *that* much -- seems to me it’s too late to start watching it now! We have more important issues to handle right now, Spike.”

“Like what?” Spike countered, not quite meeting her eyes, as he sighed heavily, and leaned back against the wall behind him.

“Like why every time something like this happens, you pull away from me, even when you know we both want…something else.”

“ ‘We both’?” he echoed in a tone that was slightly more scathing than he had intended it to be. “You and who else, love?”

Buffy flinched, though she knew deep down that he hadn’t meant the words. “So you *didn’t* want to kiss me just then,” she concluded softly, flatly, certain in a part of her heart that the words were false -- but just enough afraid that they might be true to make her vulnerable and uncertain, as she raised her hesitant eyes to his again.

As always, Spike was lost to the hurt and need in her eyes.

He sighed heavily in frustrated defeat, as he shook his head and whispered, “You know I want to, Buffy. Bloody hell, you *know* that!”

Buffy’s eyes lit up with hope as she took a firm, deliberate step closer to him, her lesser height making it easier for her to catch his reluctant gaze. “Then why won’t you?” she whispered.

There was a long moment of silence, stretching on until Buffy was not sure that Spike was going to answer at all.

“I’m just -- not sure we’re ready…”

“Let me clear up at least half of that for you,” Buffy broke in matter-of-factly. “I’m ready. I’m readier than ready. I couldn’t possibly *be* any more ready. So -- you’re just not sure *you’re* ready -- is that it?”

“Right,” Spike conceded, rolling his eyes with rising agitation as he stepped away from the wall, moving slightly into her space. “S’pose that’s what I’m saying, yeah!”

Buffy was quiet for a moment before asking almost timidly, “Why not? Do you -- do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, love,” Spike replied softly, a smoldering fire in his blue eyes as they locked onto hers intently. “I’ve slept in your arms every night for the past month. I’ve told you things…” His voice trailed off, and he began again after taking a moment to strengthen his composure, repeating, “…of course I trust you, Buffy.”

“Then -- are you not sure -- you love me anymore?” Buffy’s next question was barely over a whisper, and made her suddenly sound very vulnerable.

Spike stared at her dubiously for a moment, before remarking flatly, “If you believe that, love -- then you’re bloody daft. You know I love you -- always will.”

“Then -- if you love me -- and you trust me -- then what’s holding you back?”

“I-I’m just not sure, Buffy. I don’t feel ready…”

“Ready to what? Go on with your life?” Buffy demanded, her voice rising with slight agitation.

Spike was silent for a moment, before taking them both by surprise with his quiet, slightly startled confession, “Well -- yeah.”

Buffy blinked, surprised, and then drew in a deep breath. “Well,” she replied finally, her voice soft and even -- all of her frustration seemingly vanished with that simple, honest admission, “the funny thing about that is -- short of staking yourself or walking out in the sun, you haven’t really got much of an option about that…and those aren’t options either!” she hastened to add, giving him a severe look that softened as quickly as it had arisen, as she continued, “I wouldn’t let you do that -- any more than you would have let me dance myself to death that night last year. What was it you told me? About -- going on living?”

She knew that she had touched a nerve, when he looked away from her a bit uncomfortably, shrugging slightly as if he did not remember.

But she knew that he remembered.

She had never forgotten.

“Something about how -- no matter how bad it seemed then -- I’d get through it -- because that’s just what you have to do -- you have to go on living, Spike.” She paused, moving in closer to him, encouraged when he did not attempt to move away from her. She was silent, waiting, until he reluctantly met her eyes, and she added softly, “You may never *feel* ready, Spike. That’s why you just have to decide to *be* ready -- to move on, and leave the past behind. Oh, I know it’ll always be there in a way, but you *can* live through it. You just have to let yourself go on.”

She was quiet for a moment again, swallowing hard in an attempt to suppress her own rising emotions -- emotions so powerful that they would have kept her from saying what she had to say -- and she *had* to say it.

“I love you, Spike -- and I want to live through the rest of the time I have -- with *you*. Maybe you can’t handle it, alone.” She laughed sadly, shaking her head, compassion and sorrow for what he was going through in her eyes as she added, “I know *I* sure couldn’t. But -- that’s why you have me -- and Dawn. People who love you, and want to help you through this. You just -- you just have to make the choice to go on.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze again, her own both frightened and determined, as she forced out the next words.

“You keep pushing me away, Spike -- but maybe I -- I’m what you need to get through this. Did you ever think of that? I know I -- I *want* to help you get through this,” she confessed softly, glancing down again. “I know I want to be the one person in all the world that you know that you can turn to about *anything*. I want to -- to hold you each and every night, and kiss away the nightmares as they come. Because they *will* come -- but -- I don’t think they’ll be as bad…if you’re not sleeping alone.”

Spike studied her expression for a long moment, his deep, piercing blue eyes searching hers in the dim light, as his mind processed what she was saying, the genuine love and sincerity that motivated her words -- and the fact that she was right.

Chances were, he would never reach the point when he felt that all the pain, all the traumatic memories, all the issues of the past few months were firmly behind him forever, never to be thought of again.

Certainly he would not reach that point alone.

He had to make the choice to go on living -- and the one thing he knew he had to live for was the surrogate family he had found in the Summers girls.

And the love he had found in Buffy.

His eyes began slowly drifting again, leaving her eyes to glance down toward her lips, now stained with tears. He found himself drifting in closer to her, reaching out his hands to rest at her waist and draw her in against him, a soft, tentative smile beginning on his lips as he met her eyes again and murmured softly,

“There’s -- something else I remember -- about that night, love…if I remember right, it…er…ended…something like…”

And in the next moment, their lips met, crashing together with all the intensity of the desire they had been denying for so long.

Inside the darkened theater, the ending credits for the movie began to roll.

And just as that fateful night a year earlier -- the curtains closed on a kiss.
 
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