Summary: Buffy Summer-Giles loses everything to a horrible accident and is sent to a cruel, uncaring father. Can a promise save her?
Rating: NC-17
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"Have you ever thought about going back to England?"
Spike glanced down at Buffy, who was sitting on the closed lid of the
toilet painting her toenails a candy cotton-shade of pink, and gave her
a curious tilt of his head. "Where'd that question come from?"
She shrugged, promptly smearing the last brush stroke across her toe
instead of its intended location. "Darn it! I suck at this," she said
with a pout.
He couldn't help but grin. She was incredibly cute when she got all frustrated like this.
Tightening his towel securely around his waist, he moved over to the
edge of the bathtub and sat down, grabbing her foot and setting the
delicate appendage on his lap. He motioned for the little bottle of
lacquer, placing it on the ledge next to him after she'd handed it over.
"I don't know why you decided t' do this now anyway. We have t' leave
in an hour," he told her as he moved the brush over the smooth nail of
her big toe.
She huffed a little, her lower lip poking out into a pout. "The shoes I picked out are open-toed and my feet looked all icky."
Arching a dark eyebrow, he glanced at her then back down at the tiny
foot perched on his thigh. "Nothin' about you is icky, luv. Your feet
are no exception."
"Maybe you're just not looking hard enough."
Oh, she really had no idea what she was getting herself into with this.
"Trust me, I've looked. There's not an inch on your body that I haven't
seen, kitten. A few places I might want t' explore a lil' more, yeah,
but I've seen it all. Make no mistake about that," he told her with a
lustful leer.
Truth of it was, Spike had been pretty obsessed with the female form
even before Buffy and now that it was her form that he was privileged
to see every morning, noon and night, he was going mad with
fascination. From the silky strands of her hair right down to the tiny
toenails he was currently painting, it was perfection in his mind.
Couldn't get much closer to heaven on earth than touching her, tasting
her, loving her.
His heart skipped a beat at that last thought. He was certainly no
expert on love, but he was pretty sure that what he was feeling was
completely bug-shagging, crazy in love. There was no other explanation
for it.
For over a month now, he had been trying to convince himself that it
wasn't love. After all, love was a dirty word to him. The definition of
it had become twisted and tangled in the face of his father's abuse and
his mother's acceptance. To admit that he was in love with Buffy opened
too many doors to the uglier side of the emotion.
It all boiled down to fear. Not so much fear for himself, but fear for
Buffy. What if he was more like his father than he chose to believe?
What if he hurt her? He would rather take a long walk off a short pier
than to do anything to harm her, but if he was anything like his
father, none of his best intentions would matter.
He must have paused too long in his thoughts because Buffy wiggled her toes at him and said, "What are you thinking about?"
"Somethin' I'd rather not be thinkin' about," he replied with a heavy sigh before returning to the task in front of him.
"Tell me."
His blue eyes shifted up and saw her quietly staring back. She always
tried hard not to push for more information than he was willing to
offer up, but he could tell she was dying to know. It wasn't that he
didn't want to tell her; he just didn't want to dredge up old ghosts.
"Jus' thinkin' 'bout my father."
"Is it 'cause I asked you about England?" she asked, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.
He blinked dumbly for a second as he tried to recall that particular
question. "No, it was..." His voice trailed off when he realized where
his statement was going. Now wasn't the time to declare his undying
love for her, not in the sodding bathroom.
"It was what?"
Shaking his head, he dipped the brush back into the bottle to coat it with more nail polish. "Doesn't matter why."
Her face fell in disappointment, but she didn't press for more. A part
of him appreciated that she didn't nag him about his past and the other
part of him felt sick when he thought about why that was. For too long,
she had been conditioned to be seen and not heard, to know her place in
a life that she had no business being involved in to begin with.
Anger flared within his chest when she began talking about something completely inane, like the weather or an episode of Friends,
instead of pressing him for an answer she more than deserved. Her
father wasn't even in the same state as her and he was still inflicting
his brand of mind control. Fucking Hank Summers.
"I've thought about it," he said interrupting her speech on the latest Ross and Rachel drama.
"Huh?"
He smiled and bit back a chuckle. "England. I've thought about goin' back."
Her eyes widened as hope flared in their foresty depths. "And?"
"Don't know. Lot's o' reasons never t' step back in that soddin'
country, but I miss it. Its beautiful there, luv. You'd love it." He
watched her smile broaden and suddenly, he wanted to jump on a plane
with her right this second and jump across the pond. "Maybe someday,
yeah?"
"Really? We could go?"
"I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, Buffy. Jus' name it." His thumb
moved from her heel to the elegant arch of her foot, rubbing at the
sensitive ribbons of muscle just beneath the translucent skin. A
visible shiver ran through body making her foot twitch in his hands.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice somewhere between a moan and a teasing tone.
He feigned innocence all the while continuing to massage her foot. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all."
"You," she began shakily. "Are so lying."
There was still so much to teach her. So much she didn't know about
being intimate with another person. And she wanted to learn, that much
was obvious, even despite her shyness and crazy notions about what was
acceptable and what wasn't. If it were up to him, he would spend the
remaining years of his life showing her just what it meant to make love
to someone and how it could make her feel.
"You started it, luv. All that talk of ickiness an' the like. Gotta
show you jus' how wrong you are," he rumbled as his fingers ran over a
few choice pressure points.
She moaned and tossed her head back slightly. "What about the party?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned inwardly. Oh, yes, the sodding party, how could he forget?
Up until twenty minutes ago, he'd been eager to go to Angel's birthday
bash at The Blue Temple. He and Buffy deserved a little fun after the
past couple of months and since she'd be around familiar people, Spike
figured it was as good a time as any to finally show her off. It was
also the perfect opportunity to start acclimating her to life without
her father's shackles, a life outside the confines of the apartment.
And then he had touched her, which had made him start to seriously reconsider going anywhere besides back to bed.
"You still wanna go?" he asked her, slipping his index finger between her toes.
She nodded her head at the same time she said no and Spike laughed.
That's exactly how he was feeling. He wanted to go and he wanted to
stay, equally. Although, to be honest, either way he was getting a
winning hand as long as he was with her.
"All right. I'll behave an' get the rest of lil' piggies all glittered
up so we can go t' Angel's party," he told her as his fingers moved
away from the more sensual parts of her foot.
"Mmm," she mumbled. "Maybe we can try it again when we get home."
"You're on, luv."
Buffy smoothed the crimson silk of her dress over her hips as they
stopped at the entrance of The Blue Temple. Nervousness bubbled up in
her stomach even though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was
the long line of people stretched out behind her, scowling at the fact
that she and Spike had jumped ahead of them. Maybe it was the prospect
of meeting his friends or that they would be meeting her as Spike's
girlfriend and not some distant relative. Could be because she was
sixteen and about to go into a club in which people under twenty-one
weren't allowed.
"You ready, pet?" Spike asked as the bouncer unhooked the VIP rope, allowing them to pass through.
Ready or not, there was really no turning back at this point, was
there? She gave him a smile and nodded even as her stomach flip-flopped
when he put his hand at the small of her back and gently pushed her in
front of him.
They moved quickly through a dark corridor and popped out on the other
side of a sparkly blue curtain of beads. The main dance floor was
packed with people moving to the techno beat of a song about smacking
someone's bitch up as the lights above flashed along with the music.
Strings of blue neon pulsed along the walls like a rolling wave, every
now and then hitting a large color wash light that sprayed the dance
floor in blue and green tiles.
She didn't remember much about her first trip through the club. Fatigue
and confusion had made everything a blur. Now that she truly saw it,
she was amazed, awed. This was where Spike worked? It looked like an
underwater carnival ride!
"I think they've already started. Wanna go up?"
Buffy's gaze snapped away from the dance floor and followed the length
of his arm as it pointed to a mid-level balcony covered in sheer blue
and white fabric. "Um...okay," she replied softly, trying to rein in
the edgy zap running across her skin like lightning in the desert.
Instead of pushing her forward, he grabbed her hand in his and held on
tight. They walked towards the spiral stairway and quickly made the
ascent to the next level. Just as she was about to slip through the
curtain, he tugged on her hand and pulled her back.
"If you feel like you wanna leave, luv, jus' let me know." His hand
came up and brushed a loose tendril away from her cheek. "I want you t'
have fun tonight, that's all. If you're not havin' fun, we'll leave."
Her anxiousness must have been showing a lot more than she'd thought
and she silently chastised herself for not having more control. It
wasn't fair to him that he always had to put his life on hold just
because she was uneasy or scared. She was so tired of being a burden to
him.
"I'll be okay, Spike," she replied, giving the biggest smile she could muster.
His eyes narrowed on her and she felt like he could see right through
her. "I mean it, Buffy. None of that 'I'll stick it out' crap."
She nodded. "I will."
It had taken her almost an hour to finally relax and Spike realized
just how nervous she had been. Of course, she hadn't once asked to
leave, but that didn't surprise him much. She was always putting on the
brave face, trying hard not to appear weak or frightened. The girl had
so much more strength than she thought.
He wished he could have that kind of strength. Oh, sure, he was
excellent at running his mouth off and acting like the big bad wolf,
but really that was just stupidity most of the time. When his temper
got the best of him, that's when his stupidity really showed. Jumping
into the fire without giving much thought to how it was going to burn
him and only caring about his gut reaction. That wasn't strength.
If he had that, he'd be able to tell her how he really felt.
Instead, he kept his mouth shut, afraid of what she might think even
though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him to love
her. It was fear. In the end, there was only fear. He didn't want to
hurt her, but he worried that he might. Love made people do crazy
things after all.
Taking a long drink from his glass of bourbon, he noticed Xander
staring at him from across the room. He set the glass on the table and
quirked an eyebrow at Xander. What was his bloody problem?
Xander gave a short nod towards the door, motioning with his eyes that
he wanted Spike to follow him, before excusing himself from the group
of people he was standing with. Reluctantly, Spike trudged off after
him, snaking his way through the throng of people on the dance floor to
meet Xander at the bar.
"Can I get another Heineken?" Xander called out to the bartender, who Spike realized belatedly was Gunn.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Do you need me t' go t' the loo with you too?"
"Shut up, Spike," Xander retorted. "I wanted to ask you about something, but I didn't want to do it up there."
"What's that then?"
A bottle of beer appeared in front of Xander and money exchanged hands.
Gunn gave a quick two-fingered wave before rushing off to help another
customer. The bar was slammed tonight and without Spike and Angel
working, they were very short-handed. For a moment, Spike had even
contemplated jumping back there and helping out, but he had gotten the
night off for a reason and it wasn't to pour. Besides, the bartenders
on duty would be well compensated in tips for all of their hard work.
"So..." Xander took a long swig of his beer and gave Spike a smile. "You and Buffy."
"That's not a question," Spike replied dryly.
Xander didn't look amused. "You know what I meant."
"Yeah, I know, but I don't see how it's any o' your business."
He'd never been the kind of bloke to kiss and tell. His reputation had
been built purely on speculation and women who couldn't keep their
bloody mouths shut. It was nobody's business what he did behind closed
doors and he intended on keeping it that way.
"I'm not fishing for details, Spike. I just want to- Fuck, I don't
know. Make sure you knew what you were doing?" Xander folded his arms
over his broad chest and stared at the peroxide blonde Brit.
Spike's eyebrows came together, partly in confusion and partly in anger. "Wasn't too long ago you were surprised nothin' had happened an' now you suddenly start worryin' that somethin' has?"
"Wasn't too long ago that you were still trying to protect Buffy from
your big bad self either!" Xander shouted, poking a finger into Spike's
shoulder. "Look, you're my friend and Buffy is too. I'm just making
sure that-"
"I'm not hurtin' her, right? What the soddin' hell is it with people thinkin' I'm takin' advantage o' her?"
"That's not what I was going to say. I know you, Spike. Hurting her is the last thing you want to do," Xander said.
"Then what?"
"Is it more than just a fling to you? I hope so because that girl up
there loves you and she's not gonna understand it if you suddenly
decide you don't want that kind of responsibility."
Spike frowned. Is that really what he thought? Is that what everyone
thought? That this was some sort of game to him? That he'd really toss
Buffy aside when things got too heavy?
His throat closed up a little and he choked on the air he was trying to
breathe in. "It's not a fling. God, I... I'm in love with her."
Bloody hell...he'd just said that out loud, hadn't he?
Buffy hadn't seen Spike leave, but when she finally noticed he was
gone, she felt herself panic a little. Where had he gone and why hadn't
he said anything?
All right, just calm down, Buffy. He probably went to the bathroom or something, that's all, she told herself.
"You okay, Buffy?" a voice asked from behind her.
Turning, she saw Angel standing there, a concerned expression on his
face. "Oh, I'm fine," she told him, trying to sound carefree, which she
had failed miserably at.
"You want me to go get Spike? I think he and Xander went down to the bar," Angel offered and immediately, Buffy relaxed.
See, nothing to worry about, silly.
"No, it's okay. I just..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured wildly, hoping Angel didn't ask any more questions.
He gave her a flummoxed look. "Uh, okay." Suddenly, his face
brightened, a grin appearing on his handsome face. "Hey! You wanna go
dance?"
"Well, I don't know... Maybe I should-"
"C'mon, Buff, you got to have at least one dance with me. It's my birthday, you know."
She wasn't sure why she was hesitating. After all, it was only Angel.
Spike would be okay with her dancing with Angel, right? And Angel did
have a point, it was his birthday and they were all there to have a
good time.
Shrugging, she returned his smile. "Sure, why not?"
Angel set his drink on a nearby table and offered his arm to her. After
looping her arm in his, he led her down the staircase and onto the
dance floor where a fast dance beat was pounding out of the speakers.
He startled her by grabbing her hand and spinning her around, but once
she regained her footing, she giggled. Laughing at her expression,
Angel began dancing along with the music and Buffy quickly followed his
lead.
This was actually pretty fun. She hadn't ever really had the
opportunity to dance like this before, with other people and in public,
no less. Sure, she'd danced within the confines of her own room and had
been known to strike a pose at Spike's apartment, but that was usually
when she was all alone with nothing but the music to keep her company.
Now, she knew what she'd been missing at all of those school dances and
parties that she hadn't been allowed to go to.
Angel spun her around again and this time she was ready for it. As soon
as she made the full three-sixty back to him, she didn't miss a beat,
jumping and doing a little shimmy.
She probably looked like a complete dork, but at least she was in good
company. Angel's idea of dancing were a set of jerky movements
interspersed with outdated fads like the 'Running Man' all the while
continuing to grin like the doofus he was. Of course, he might have
only been doing his lame dance moves to make her feel less
self-conscious.
As she watched Angel do the 'Hustle', Buffy wondered about Spike. How
did he dance? Did he even dance at all? Once she saw him again, she
decided she would ask if he wanted to dance. Maybe to something slow,
if The Blue Temple played anything slow, that is.
While she was pondering Spike's dancing skills, she didn't notice that
Angel had abruptly stopped moving and was now staring at something
behind her. "Buffy, come here!" he shouted over the music, motioning
her with his hand.
"What's wrong?"
Angel gave her a miserable frown before shaking his head. "I'm about to cause a whole lot of trouble."
"Why?" she asked, slowly turning to see what he was looking at.
Oh.
A huge, hulking man was trying to push past the crowd and he was
glaring daggers at Angel every step of the way. Maybe six foot four
with arms the size of truck tires, he looked like a charging bull that
had just seen red.
Grabbing her hand, Angel started pulling her off the dance floor. "I
gotta get you out of here," he said, his eyes darting side to side as
if he was looking for something.
"That guy looks pissed. What the heck did you do to him, Angel?"
Angel glanced at her, giving her a sheepish half-smile. "I might have slept with his girlfriend."
"You what!" Buffy exclaimed before punching him in the arm.
"Ow, you hit hard," he replied, momentarily letting go over her hand to
rub at his bicep. "It's not like I knew she was his girlfriend! I found
out afterwards...when he came home and chased me out of the house with
a meat cleaver."
"I-"
Without warning, Angel was pulled backwards, taking Buffy down with him
and they both hit the floor with a loud smack. Glancing up, she saw the
Bull Man snarling down at them and she yelled when he reached down and
clamped his meaty hand around Angel's throat.
"Put him down!" Buffy shouted, pushing herself up and trying to grab at the Bull Man's arm.
Angel's feet were kicking frantically as he tried to seek purchase on
the floor five inches below him. "Buffy, get out of here!" he rasped
out.
Buffy ignored Angel as she continued to loosen the Bull Man's grasp,
pulling and shaking at the length of solid muscle holding Angel up.
"Leave him alone! Stop, you're hurting him!"
All she was doing was annoying the giant man and he quickly got tired
of her weak attempts. With his free hand, he shoved her and Buffy went
sliding on the slick floor, stopping a few feet away. Her hip burned in
pain and for a few moments, all she could do was whimper on the floor.
Crying isn't going to help Angel. Get up!
It took every ounce of strength she had, but she did eventually will
her body off the floor. She limped back over to the two men, her legs
protesting and her nerves screaming. "Let. Him. Go!" she forced out of
her burning lungs.
The Bull Man smirked at her then looked at Angel, who was quickly
turning an ugly shade of purple. "She doesn't quit, does she?" he
sniggered, shaking Angel a little in the process. Then his mean smile
disappeared and he was raising his fist, directing in towards her.
Oh my God! I'm gonna-
There was a loud smack and Buffy's eyes popped open.
"You really don't wanna be doin' that, mate."
Spike had the Bull Man's fist in his palm, halting the violent punch
from striking her. In a blur, Spike threw the fist backwards and
slammed his own into the giant's jaw. Angel fell to the floor, gasping
and clutching his throat.
One of the spotlights from above chose right then to shine on Spike's
lean figure, his cold glare visible for all to see. His muscles were
tense as he stared the Bull Man down, not giving an inch as the man
started towards him.
"Ain't none of your business. This is between me and this fuckwad right
here," the giant snarled, pointing at Angel's battered form.
Spike's smile began slowly and then turned into a malicious sneer.
"See, that's where you're wrong. This here's one o' my best mates an'
where there's one, there's the other. We come in pairs, you know."
"He fucked my girlfriend!"
"Oh." His eyebrows rose as if he was surprised. "Well, in that case, have at 'im, mate."
The Bull Man grinned and made a move for Angel again. Buffy looked up
at Spike is shock. He wasn't really going to leave Angel to get killed,
was he?
Spike stopped, his finger pointed up in the air as he spun on his heel. "There might be one problem though."
"Oh, yeah?" the giant said, his fists already filled with the dark blue fabric of Angel's shirt. "What's that?"
"You touched my girl," Spike told him, his ice blue gaze darting to Buffy. "Now, it really is my business."
The Bull Man didn't look very intimidated by Spike's announcement. He
shoved Angel away and stomped over to Spike, leaning in so they were
nose to nose. "Maybe if she'd kept her nose out of it, I wouldn't have.
Maybe you should learn to keep your bitch in line."
Spike's angry gaze turned deadly, his nostrils flaring as he stepped
even closer to the giant. "Maybe you shouldn't push my buttons."
Buffy screamed as the larger man shot his fist out, but Spike was much
quicker as he ducked out of the way and punched the guy low in the gut.
The Bull Man grunted in pain and went after Spike again, his arms
raised with the intention of pounding his opponent into the ground like
a fence post. Spike snapped his knee up, slamming into the man's groin,
then bounced back as the giant fell backwards holding the flesh at the
apex of his thighs.
By the time the Bull Man moved to get up, security was already reaching
for him. He shouted at Angel and Spike, promising that he would get
them someday, as the bouncers dragged him off the dance floor.
"You all right then?" Spike asked Angel, offering his hand to help his friend off the floor.
"Feel like I've just swallowed a coffee can full of nails, but
otherwise..." Angel shrugged and started back up to the VIP room,
slowly, very slowly.
Spike stood with his back to her for what felt like hours, the muscles
beneath his shirt twitching furiously. When he finally did turn around,
Buffy didn't know what to make of his expression.
"Spike, I-"
He grabbed her arm sharply and pulled her behind him as he stalked off
the dance floor and through a door that stated 'Employees Only'. They
moved quickly down a dark hallway and stopped at a door at the end
where Spike pushed her inside.
"Spike, I'm-"
"Stop." Spike slammed the door and rushed across the room where she was
standing. He grabbed her shoulders, keeping her still as he looked her
over. "What the bloody hell were you thinkin', Buffy!"
"I-"
"What if I hadn't been there? Huh? What then?"
Normally, this would be the point where she broke down and started
crying, but all she was really feeling was anger. "What was I supposed
to do, Spike? Just let that guy beat Angel up? I couldn't do that."
His jaw tensed for a second, but then his whole body relaxed and he
cupped her cheek in his palm. "You could have gotten hurt, luv. I don't
know what I would've done if you..."
Buffy could swear she saw his eyes water up, but she brushed the thought aside. It was probably just the light.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't just leave him," she replied.
Spike nodded slightly. "I know. I would have done the same thing."
"Yeah, but you kicked that guy's butt. I just yelled at him." She gave him a tentative smile.
"He got off lucky."
"Where did you learn to fight like that? He was so much bigger than you were."
Spike chuckled at that, running a hand through his curls. "There's no
such thing as a fair fight, luv. I jus' use whatever I need t' to knock
the bastard down. Learned most o' it when I was still a bar back here.
We were the back-up, filled in where were needed."
"Do you ever get scared?"
His smile faded. "I got scared tonight. The minute I realized it was you out there."
"God, Spike, I'm-"
And for the millionth time that night, he cut her off, only this time, it was with a kiss.
His tongue darted out to trace her soft, plump lip before slipping inside her mouth and tasting her.
She moaned and he slipped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest
and holding her in a solid embrace. There were days he felt like she
would just slip away and this was one of them. It only made him hold
onto her tighter.
"Buffy," he whispered, his lips trailing across her cheek towards her
ear. "Gotta promise me somethin', kitten. You ever get into a situation
like this again, you run. I don't care who you're with, run."
"Spike, I can't prom-"
He stepped back so quickly that a wave of dizziness washed over him. "You have to. If anythin' ever happened t' you, I'd..."
She looked up at him with her huge hazel eyes and he was lost. He
couldn't live without this beautiful creature at his side, waking up to
her sweet smell in the morning, seeing her brilliant smile when she
looked at him, listening to her laugh that sounded like a chorus of
bells. She was a part of him, anchored in his heart and filling the
void with her warmth.
"Buffy, I love you."
"You..."
"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said in a rush, his breath coming out in short pants.
It took a minute for the shock to fall away from her face, but when it
did, it was replaced by that brilliant smile he couldn't live without.
"Really?"
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "God, yes. I'm so fuckin' in
love with you I can barely stand up straight. God, yes, I love you,
Buffy."
"Spike?"
His eyes popped back open and he felt breathless all over again. "Yeah, kitten?"
"I think I'm ready to go home now."
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