Dark and Bright: Acceptance
by Seralis
Chapter One - Acceptance
“Well at least you could tell me you’re glad to see me.”
She smiled up at him, and if his heart could beat, he was sure it would have skipped in that moment. He leaned down to catch her lips in his own, when he felt a small hand on his chest.
Her hand.
Her smile held a tinge of sadness, as her hand kept him at bay. She was silent for a moment, knowing what she said next could very well make or break things with him. Her eyes shone as she finally spoke, “I’m sorry Angel. It’s just that.….it wouldn’t be right.”
“Oh, yeah, well, we can take this somewhere else.”
“It’s not that. Angel, I-I’ve become, uh, involved with someone.”
“Oh.” The vampire felt the hot rush of jealousy flow through him, which he quickly cooled with his usual broody rationality. What did you think? That she would wait forever for you? That she’d just let you walk back in whenever you wanted? “Who is it?” he couldn’t keep himself from asking.
They were rudely interrupted as the ‘dead’ preacher threw Angel across the room, where he slumped, unconscious. The gory looking evil turned his bloody gaze on a surprised Slayer, “Are you ready to finish this, bitch?”
Head feeling a little dizzy from a sudden meeting with an urn, she defaulted back to her usual banter, “Just how many times to I have to kill you? A round number is fine.”
“You understand nothing,” Caleb snarled, his voice twisted. He lunged toward her, pushing her up to be pinned to the cold stone by her own scythe. She kept her grip, sliding to knock him off his feet. “You stupid girl. You’ll never stop me, you don’t have the b--”
She twisted the scythe in her hand, to come up from underneath the not-so-holy holy man. “Who does nowadays?” she asked wryly, before pulling the blade up, effectively slicing him in half.
A shuffling sound caught her attention, the angry face of the knocked-out vamp furiously searching the room, “Now I’m pissed! Where is he?”
A glance down and a small snort of laughter confirmed her handiwork, “He had to split.”
Angel joined her in her gaiety, but when laughter had quieted to silence, he took up a folder, handing it to her. Once more in a semi-serious mood, she asked, “Reliable?”
“Not remotely.” He pulled out a large shiny amulet hanging from a silver chain. She eyed the thing skeptically. “It’s very powerful Buffy. And possibly very dangerous. I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, or how to use it, but it’s supposed to go to a Champion, someone more than human, but has a soul.” He could see her mouth begin to part for speech, but he went on before she could raise any objection, “You shouldn’t wear it. It’s dangerous.”
If anything, this statement seemed to irk her even more, “You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do Angel.”
“Then I’ll stay and do it.”
“No.”
Her flat-out rejection surprised, not to mention hurt him. “Does it have to do with this….guy you’re seeing?”
“No….yes….I don’t know.”
“Who is he Buffy?” She could normally slide around questions such as these, well experienced thanks to years of life as a Slayer. But the look he was giving her, not too unlike that of Willow’s resolve face, was unavoidable.
She seemed to squirm under his inquisitive gaze, “Spike.”
She knew it was coming the moment she saw the dark fury rise in his eyes, and it was hard to remember that it was Angel, not Angelus who stood before her now. “Spike! SPIKE! What were you thinking? How could you get involved with someone like Spike of all….things?! He could hurt you at any moment, he’s a threat to you Buffy, whether you see it or not.”
Her cold glare stopped any further ranting, her voice just as frostily clipped, “It is not up to you who I choose to be with, Angel. He wouldn’t hurt me, he’s not like that anymore.” Here, her voice took a somewhat childish tone, “Besides, even if he did piss me off, I could so kick his ass. And if you keep acting like this, I might have to do some Angel butt-kicking too.”
“Do you love him?”
If either had been listening closely enough, one could distinctly hear a sharp, yet unneeded intake of breath from the shadows in the corner. It was long moments before she spoke, her head tilted not in shame but upwards, in almost defiance.
“I do.” In that moment of confession, her bravery seemed to slip away into uncertainty, and she looked down, “At least, I think I do.”
The rest of the conversation was lost on the figure in the darkness. The blond vampire seemed frozen, as if by a spell. The gentlest of smiles was on his face, and for once since coming to this hell-damned town, he was ecstatic, if such a word could be applied to William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers.
She loved him.
He’d known it all along, of course, but hearing the admission from her own lips had been an unexpected slice of heaven, one he would treasure for the rest of his unlife, depending on how long that lasted. The only thing better would have been if she had admitted it to him, instead of the big poof, but he would be content with this. The love of his Slayer.
********
He heard her coming before he saw her, despite the distant sounds of the dozen or so Potentials above. He watched silently as she made her way towards him, a golden angel with the expression of one who knows they may not live to see another day. He could call it the Slayer look.
“Where’s the trinket then?” She pulled the dark pendant from her pocket. “It’s mine.”
“How do you figure?”
“Someone with a soul, but more than human? Come on pet, you and I both know you won’t let the poof wear it, it’s too dangerous for you, so who does that leave? Me, that’s who.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“You’ll need someone strong to bear it then.” He was tiring of her stubbornness. He knew and she knew it; he was the only one she could give it to.
She spoke softly, the large shiny amulet dangling from her fingers. “Angel said it was meant to worn by a champion.” He could not help, even now, from feeling a wave of exasperation at her thinly-veiled jab at him. How he hated the way she continually brought up his not-so-saintliness. When she pressed the thing into his hand however, he met her gaze to find a look of trust, of faith.
The next moment, it was gone, replaced by puzzlement and what he feared was suspicion, “How did you know about it?”
He tried innocence, “Know about what pet?”
“Don’t play dumb with me Spike. How did you know about the amulet?”
He saw the mounting frustration in her eyes, saw the way her hand clenched and unclenched, as if it were reaching for a stake. “I heard.”
“How much?” Almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Almost. He still shifted around, trying to avoid the question. “Spike!”
“Everything, all right!”
His outburst seemed to silence her, and he could only hear the sound of her heart, with an occasional whisper of girlish laughter drifting from above. “Did you hear….what I told him?”
“You told him lots of things luv.” In his heart, he wished, hoped this was it. That she would say those simple words that would bring him to completion. As much as the agonized look on her face pained him, both man and demon couldn’t help but prod her a little, to see if she would give in.
He amused himself to see the changing emotions on her face. First there was her deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, then a quick flash of anger, finally to a sombre quiet. Her face like steel, eyes radiating defiance, her voice betrayed her emotion; soft, choky, and could he detect a hint of fear?
Finally the brave spirit came to her, the one he loved and would cherish, if she’d let him. “I love you.”
It was surprising how those few simple words could affect a man. Suddenly Mr. Big Bad was in the middle of total meltdown. She smiled at him, the shadow of a long-lost girl from years before haunting that curve. That was it. He was putty in her hands. Of course, you always were, isn’t it mate? His hand reached up to gently touch her cheek, and inside, he was rejoicing to feel her lean into his touch, instead of the recoil and rejection he still feared. “I love you Buffy.”
She smiled again, and that same familiar rush flew through him, making him feel as if the sun was beaming down on him, in a non-threatening way of course, like a goddess was bestowing a gift upon a sinner. Which to him, wasn’t too far from what was happening.
********
How could she explain the emotion she felt right now? Basking in his love, his gentle smile, she could almost believe she would live to see beyond tomorrow. She loved him, and the freedom that came with this acceptance was daunting. She saw him now, both man and demon, together to become what was Spike. A sweet, considerate gentleman called William, mixed with the dangerous fierceness of the vampire. She loved them both, or some mixture of the two. She needed some monster in her man. He was right of course. She needed the comfort of darkness as much as he needed the salvation of light. But it was more than comfort now, wasn’t it? Cold comfort?
His movement towards her, his lips on hers convinced her of that. She had stepped from that dirty land of abuse to wonderfully clean land of love. It was a nice place. His arms snaking around her to hold her close, his increase of pressure on her lips, and all such thoughts were rubbed from her mind. Instead they were filled with only images of bleached hair, cool arms, blue eyes. She buried herself in the scents of tobacco and leather, accented by the copper tang of blood. Surrounded by all this, how could she know he too was burying himself in a sensual world of sunshine, golden hair and hazel eyes.
********
Too soon she had to come up for air, though passion and habit found both of them breathing heavily. Held within the safe circle of his arms, she nuzzled his neck, a gesture that thrilled him more than she could know. A breathy whisper came to his ears, in a voice he had never heard before.
“Make love to me Spike.”
For once in over a hundred years, the vampire froze at the mention of sex. He saw the hurt look in her eyes, and held her tighter. “I can’t. I won’t hurt you again pet. I don’t want it to be like that.”
She rolled her eyes at him, scoff to his discomfort, “I’m not asking to be hurt. I’m not asking for….what I used to.” She let her voice soften a little, “I’m asking for love Spike.” Poking him in the chest, she looked up into those hooded eyes, “And don’t ever suggest that I’m asking for anything but, or else I’m going to have to get Mr. Pointy out.” Flirtatious once more, she batted her thick eyelashes at him, “And we wouldn’t want that, would we Spikey?”
He laughed inside, silly bint just can’t make up her mind, can she? Does she want to shag me or dust me? Quickly he corrected he thoughts, it wouldn’t be like before, she’d said so. Making love wasn’t screwing around. His mind firmly set, he drew her to him, bringing her lips to his once more.
They had a whole night ahead of them.
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