Chapter 18 - Realities

Buffy had expected an awkward morning after. And it was in its own way, being that it felt strangely right waking up next to him.

She woke up sometime in the middle of the morning to find Spike watching her with a neutral expression on his face. He ran his hand over her hair as her eyes settled on him.

It was all so natural. No uncomfortable smiles, no embarrassed eye contact, no half-finished sentences—just him watching her.

“Morning, love.”

Buffy smiled, stretching beneath the sheet.

“Get all rested?”

“Mm-hm.” She yawned. “Do you sleep at night?”

“Some.”

She stretched again. “Is it okay if I grab a shower?”

“Help yourself.”

Buffy scooted over, getting out of the bed with no attempt to cover her nudity as she walked into the bathroom. She started to shut the door and—

“Oh my GOD!”

Buffy stared open-mouthed at her reflection over the sink. Her neck was blue and yellow, and she could see teeth marks in several places. She came out of the bathroom, pointing.

“You bit me. A lot.”

He actually looked a bit guilty. “Didn’t mean to, that bad.”

“You didn’t even really bite me, and it looks like this. Worse, maybe, cause it’s all over.” She put her other hand on her hip.

“Sorry, pet.”

“Did you do this to every girl you slept with?”

Spike tilted his head. “More or less.” He paused. “It hurt?”

“Not really, just bruise-y. Not at all last night. It just…looks really bad.”

“I won’t next time.”

“Okay, then,” she finished.

Buffy turned, going back into the bathroom.

A moment later, Spike heard the shower running.

He crossed his arms behind his head, his thoughts once again returning to Buffy.

He knew things could still go wrong with this.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, the decision had already been made. He’d known since the instant he’d seen her scared to death of the vampires in the alley that he would never end up hurting her. Despite what he’d thought before, it had all suddenly seemed so simple.

Spike had been at the club, of course, because he’d been following her. He hadn’t intended to; it had just sort of happened.

So he had been stalking her. Slightly.

He was supposed to walk away and never see her again. It was better that way. That had turned into watching her until he got her out of his system, as well as making sure no other humans made a grab for her. Regardless, he’d reminded himself why it wouldn’t be a good idea to carry on any further with her.

And though there had been something still bothering him about the whispered ‘Slayer’ he’d heard, it wasn’t necessarily the first reason he’d been following her. Keeping an eye on her was certainly part of it, but Spike had almost been as surprised as Buffy when the vampires grabbed her.

If he hadn’t been there, she would have disappeared. And he never would have known.

And he wouldn’t have her now.

But Spike still didn’t completely know how to deal with her continued presence in his life. No humans were supposed to have a continued presence in his life.

He was a vampire; humans were food. Anyone was fair game, unless he was being paid for them to be otherwise. Business was business, and business was separate. He even made it a point not to snack on those who hired him after a job was done. It wasn’t sporting-like. And it didn’t earn him any points with the criminal human count, who tended to pay with cash more than demons did.

Though it didn’t come up much, because he didn’t tend to see them again. There were the occasional names and faces that kept turning up on the street, but they had never turned up in his bed before. He had rules for business.

Spike stretched back in the bed, considering.

Buffy had stopped being business some time ago. She was something new. But so what if she didn’t fit with what he’d been doing before, or what he should do? He wanted her, and that was enough.

He did what he wanted, always made his own rules.

Right, then.

1. Buffy’s special.
2. Don’t kill Buffy.
3. Try not to bite Buffy.
4. Not even a little bit.

Number two seemed obvious, but only a week ago, he’d thought that he might end up draining her. Vampire/human relationships didn’t tend to work out, which was why he had decided it was better not to pursue this further.

He liked her for some reason and hadn’t wanted to do anything to her. Spike hadn’t had much reason to think that he wouldn’t end up hurting Buffy or even killing her, despite his desire not to. He was a vampire; she was human. Things happened. So he’d decided not to let them happen.

But seeing her in the alley had been a moment of clarity. He simply wouldn’t let himself hurt her. Certainly never on purpose, but not by accident, either. He’d been afraid of an accident, afraid that having her close for too long would be too much to resist.

But he’d known since she got on his bike that he wouldn’t be able to stay away again, known since they came together that he needed her. Known since he had his teeth on her throat that he wouldn’t damage her. He wouldn’t even take a taste.

Spike thought of her bruised neck. All the frenzied gnawing he’d done with his blunt teeth in an effort not to injure her had possibly done more harm than if he’d just bitten her outright. She was going to be wearing scarves for a while, to say the least.

He actually hadn’t liked seeing the bruise on her neck.

Suddenly, he heard the shower cut off.

A moment later, Buffy came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She leisurely picked up her clothing from where it was strewn on the floor and started changing.

“Leavin’ so soon?”

“I should.” She shot him an apologetic glance as she put on her shoes. “I didn’t call home last night. So, are you still going to be following me around?”

“Maybe. Depends. Can’t have anything gettin’ you.”

“Well, maybe you should do it more openly, if you know what I mean. Like a personal escort.” She grinned.

“You goin’ anywhere today?”

“Only home.” Without another word, she smiled, grabbed her purse, and walked out the door.

Spike watched her go. As the door shut, he stretched back. He could use another hour or two of sleep, and he wasn’t planning on getting out of the bed that Buffy had shared anytime soon.

-----

Buffy had left Spike’s with a very confident, afterglowy morning-after feeling. She’d gotten a cab back to the club and picked up her car. If her mother had noticed her absence, she didn’t comment on it. And judging by the bottle in the kitchen, Joyce probably hadn’t noticed much of anything last night.

As Buffy made her way to her room, she passed her father’s exercise room, which was richly equipped, though hardly ever used.

She worked out religiously twice a week. Mainly because she wanted to look cute. And she did—her tummy was toned and her buns, while not of steel, were quite shapely. But she had never really done any exercises to build muscle; it had all been about burning fat. After looking in the mirror for a moment, Buffy realized that her arms were really sort of thin. They could do with some definition, she decided.

Plus, she would no longer hit like a girl.

Her mind made up, Buffy hovered around the exercise room that morning, looking at the different pieces of equipment and wondering which one she should use first.

-----

In the afternoon, Cordelia unexpectedly picked her up for a round of shopping. Buffy put on some real clothes while Cordelia waited downstairs, and she hastily found something to cover her neck. She’d already had to put concealer over the bruise on her cheek where the vampire had hit her, but she had covered up Spike’s marks on her neck mostly by wearing her fluffy bathrobe while around her mother.

As they hit the stores, Buffy, for the first time in her life, paled as she checked the price tags. She had no idea exactly where the financial situation stood, but she gathered it wasn’t good. So she watched Cordelia as she racked up purchases into the thousands, and only bought a few tank tops herself.

It was evening by the time they were done, and Buffy told Cordelia that she’d catch a cab home. Once she was in the backseat of the taxi, she gave the driver directions to Spike’s.

She’d surprise him if he was there, and she could always go home if he wasn’t.

When they were a mile or so away from his apartment, Buffy caught a flash of bleached hair. She whipped around and looked out the rear window.

“Stop! Right here’s fine,” she told the driver. She dug through her purse and pulled out the bills before jumping out of the cab.

Spike had disappeared, but she walked in his direction and soon spotted him on a side street. He was a fair way down it, but his hair stood out in the gloom. His back was still to her, and she started to call out before she realized that he was with someone.

A girl someone.

He was kissing her.

Wait.

No, he wasn’t.

Buffy felt something inside her drop as she realized exactly what he was doing. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the girl slide—the body slide to the ground.

It had been the question she couldn’t ask.

And now she had her answer.

Buffy turned and ran.

She heard footfalls behind her, and she knew he was coming after her. She knew he would catch her. He was faster than she was. But she didn’t have to make it easy for him.

“Buffy!”

Another few seconds and he caught her arm, pulling her to face him. They were on the street now.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” His vampire face faded.

“I know,” she whispered. “And suddenly it terrifies me.”

His fingers flexed slightly, and with a sort of added horror, Buffy realized that the hand gripping her arm was warm. “Get off!” she yelled.

To her surprise, he did.

She left. And he didn’t follow.