first_summers | Riverview >> Inbox

[ She can feel that shaking in his touch, the vibration humming along her skin and cooling the fire within her. As much as she wants it to be now, fast, all-consuming, that's not the best thing for them now. For him. That's what they'd done the first time around, and even setting aside her myriad of emotional issues at the time, he deserves so much more than that now.

So she pulls back, slowly and purposefully, just enough to be able to breathe a declaration onto his skin. ]

I love you.

[ It doesn't matter that he's not her Spike, that they have no idea what they're doing with this, none of that changes what she feels. He's Spike, and she will love him until she takes her final breathe. ]

[Her words cut worse than any knife he's ever felt, any ray of sun that's burned over his skin. It blisters and stings and has him faltering, panting against her lips, hands holding her in an almost painful grip as he sits there, drawing back enough to look up at her. There's wet around his eyes, tears leaked out over the corners that trail down the sides of his face, tears matched by hers as he blinks up at her.]

No, you don't.

[She can't. No matter what she says, no matter what he's done, she can't love him. It's too impossible.]

[ His words break her heart and bring a fresh wave of tears as her throat tightens at the memory of when she's last heard him say those words. When they'd said goodbye and he'd given his life for all of them, for the entire world. She can still feel his hand in hers, that pain of losing him still lingering despite his being right there in front of her. ]

You said that before you died, when I told you for the first time. You were wrong then and you're wrong now.

[ The words are cracked and frayed by emotion, her tone almost pleading with him to believe her. She doesn't know if he did before and was just... putting on a brave face in the moment, or if he truly hadn't believed that she'd loved him. Whichever it was, he has to believe her now. ]

I love you, Spike.

[He laughed, but it was a pained sound. Something to show those broken bits still floated around inside him.]

No, Pet, you don't. You can't. I'm... You're sunlight and what's supposed to be good in the world. You do something because it's right, even if it hurts. I'm... me. I'm a demon. I'm selfish and I take what I want because I want it. I'm not him, Buffy. I'll never be him.

[And that's what it boiled down to. He'd never be Angel. Not enough for Dru and not enough for her.]

[ Those broken bits fit so well against her own, she just has to show him that. She has to prove it, and as much as that hurts, she can understand it. He doesn't have the years that she does, the memories and heartache and revelations. So she doesn't snap, or argue, or push him away in frustration. She frames his jaw with her hands and tries again. ]

I love you, Spike. You remind me of what it is to be alive. You give me the strength to keep fighting when I don't have anything else. I need you, Spike, I choose you.

[ She'd choose him even if Angel were there. ]

[Oh, he wanted to believe her. He wanted it so much that every part of him vibrated. His hands shook where he held her again, grip almost too tight, too painful for even her before he remembered himself. That pained laugh turned to something so helpless, so open and raw that he had no control over it. Just long, quiet breaths his dead body didn't need anymore to try to keep himself in one piece.]

You don't know how much I want to believe that...

[ She doesn't react to the discomfort of his touch even as it borders being too much, because she know he doesn't mean it. He's lost in his own head, fighting ghosts and pain that should never have been inflicted. ]

It's okay that you don't.

[ The moment she says it, her voice as reassuring as she can make it, she knows it's true. There's no rush, there isn't an impending apocalypse and neither of them are going anywhere anytime soon. What's a few more days, even weeks? He's alive, so to speak, and that's all that matters. ]

You can take your time. We can-- get to know each other again. You can make your own choice; mine isn't going to change.

I think we already know each other more than well at this point.

[He'd stalked her. Hunted her. Tried to kill her. Hung on the fringes of her little group for longer than he'd expected to be allowed to. He knew her. That's what made all of this so hard to believe. Still... maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought if she could sit there on his lap like that, looking at him like he was... worthy.]

Humor me, then? I didn't get to do this the right way the first time around.

[ She tries to make it a joke, but it's weak in the face of the truth of her statement. Everything about their beginning had been wrong, and they both deserve better this time. More than just passion for passion's sake, they both deserve love. Whether they can manage to make it work... that'll remain to be seen. ]

What are you suggesting? Moonlit walks on the beach? Dates?

[Not that he'd be against any of that. In fact, it might almost be a nice change from blood and gore and pain. Funny how there was a possibility of a bit of a normal life for him after he'd died.]

[ She gives a little shrug at that, but there's a smile curling at the corner of her lips as she does. It's an amusing idea, but also a pretty damn nice one. ]

Our 'dates' used to involve hunting demons or training Potentials. A beach might be kinda nice. Or even just watching TV in your crypt.

[ Because she knows he has a setup there. ]

They don't have Passions here...

[Said almost wistfully, but he lifts a hand from its death grip on her hip to stroke against the side of her hair, watching her with a sort of curious fascination.]

A date, eh? They've got pools, you know. Out past the city. Out in the jungle. I'd tell anyone else not to bother, what with it being all dangerous and all, but you... well. You can take care of yourself, can't you.

[ She closes her eyes at the way he touches her hair, not as a way of flinching at the sensation, but rather to savor it as best she could. As much as her heart might be singing at the moment from having any of this at all, there's still a small piece of her that's terrified of losing it again. Losing him again. ]

I do better when you have my back.

[ When she opens her eyes again, there's nothing but sincerity and genuine affection in her gaze. She's not going to hide the way she feels from him, but she's not going to rush him into things either. It's amazing enough that he's still sitting there with her at all, she doesn't need to push her luck. ]

[There was a very strong urge to say something along the lines of having her on her back, but with herculean effort, he managed to keep that to himself. For now. But it made him chuckle, shaking his head at her.]

We'll have to see. I think... I think I should go for now. Work on figuring out what'd impress a Slayer for a first date.

[ The very idea of it leaves her smiling, her entire being brighter for the hope that he's given her. That they have the chance to try this again at all... Even if it doesn't work out, if their paths take them different places, at least they'll have tried. ]

Good luck with that.

[ He'll have to work to impress her, but she believes in him. ]

[He looks up at her, confusion still there on his face, but there's something almost shy, almost hopeful in that smile he gives her.]

You'll have to get up for me to go, love. Unless you plan on having me take you along.

Tempting.

[ And it really is. She knows it's better for him to go, for them to take this as a slower pace while they figure things out, but that doesn't mean she entirely likes it. Or that she's ready for him to leave.

No, she'll be good. It's what she does, right? But first she leans in, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then she begins the process of setting him free by leaving her very comfortable perch on his lap. ]

[He makes a small noise in protest, his body quite happy to keep her where she was, hands sliding down along her legs as she moves, but he doesn't make her stay. He does have to keep his coat in front of himself when he stands, but maybe she won't notice.]

Right. Well... Keep the bottle. Consider it a, ah, housewarming gift. I'll give you a call when I figure something out, yeah?

[ Oh she notices, but she doesn't say anything. The old her would have, and it likely would have been pretty awful, and she doesn't want to risk giving him any sort of wrong impression. He's used to that side of her and it's better to do everything she can to put distance between those parts of herself, as much as possible anyway. ]

I'll be looking forward to it.

[ Tucking her robe around herself, she picks up the bottle in question and takes a sip straight from it -- she even manages not to make a face. ]

Thanks for the gift.

[A small, hopefully unheard sigh leaves him, and he shakes himself to rid his mind of the thoughts running through it.]

Right. Well... ah.

Bye.

[A wave from the hand not rammed in his pocket keeping his coat half closed, then he starts to back up towards the door, already trying to think of places a girl like her would want to go.]

[ It hurts to see him go. There's a part of her that frantically wonders what if I never see him again? what if this is all a dream? and her breath catches in her throat. She has to stop herself from following him, stopping him and keeping him here with her forever. Her grip on the bottle tightens and she holds it to her chest like one might an old stuffed animal, trying to find comfort in clinging to something that isn't him. ]

Spike?

[ Her voice is small, betraying that thread of fear and uncertainty in her if he listened, and her smile's mostly faded. ]

Don't take too long.

[He finally figures out what it is he's hearing in her voice, and for a moment, it stuns him. Hope. She has hope in regards to him, and he's not sure what to do with that. Not just yet. But he finds himself nodding, a hand behind him to open the door as he takes a last look at her. Something familiar in all of this chaos. Something that he seemed to want. Someone who wanted him back, against all the odds.]

I won't.

Good.

[ Again there's the urge to move closer, grab handfuls of his shirt and pull him back to her. But her feet stay firmly where they are and she keeps control of those urges; the time for losing control will come later. Until then-- Her expression turns playful and she makes a motion with her hands like a teacher waving away a small child. ]

Now shoo, I need to get my beauty sleep.

Not that you need it.

[He winked, but he slipped out the open door and closed it behind him. He leaned back against it for a moment, taking a breath and letting it out slowly, then moved to head out of her place properly. He had a date to think about, and some... needs to see to.]

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