Some Things…

It was a typical evening in Sunnydale and an even more typical night at the Summers’ home as Buffy quietly tiptoed from the bedroom that she now shared with Spike, clutching a small leather bound book to her chest. Before closing the door, she took one last look at her sleeping lover, his face somewhat aglow from the moonbeams streaming through the windows. She needed to make sure that he was still sleeping; otherwise there’d be no way she could get away with this little endeavor. This was important. Life and death! Mostly death – hers, if he ever found out what she was doing.

Over the last few days, she had come to realize just how much she truly loved the man that was now snoring lightly and taking up much of her bed. Their bed, she corrected herself. This was their room now. Once they had defeated the Master and sent the Fang Gang packing back to Los Angeles, she had asked Spike to move in with her. Now this was their room and their bed and it felt – right. Actually, Dawn had beaten her to asking him, but only by a few minutes, so it didn’t count. Not really. Besides, Spike had told Dawn that it was Big Sis’s question to ask and ask she had. And here they were. A couple. Sharing everything. Well, almost everything. That’s what this mission was about, to fill in the missing pieces.

After silently closing the door, she crept down the steps, knowing instinctively from years of practice, where to tread to avoid the creaks. At the bottom of the stairs she paused for a second, holding her breath as she listened intently for any noise from the second floor. Not a sound. Good. That was good. It meant she could continue on to the living room and get down to business.

Almost as silently as she had descended the steps, she glided to the couch and turned on the light. As she settled back against the cushions, a sudden pang of guilt swept through her, making her pause before opening the leather book that now rested in her lap. This book was personal – a journal of Spike’s innermost thoughts and feelings – and she was about to invade his privacy.

“Not like it’s anything he wouldn’t do if he ever found my diaries,” she said aloud to the room as she folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “Besides, if he’s not going to tell me everything that happened in England, I’m just going to have to do my own research.”

Garrick, Geoffrey and Giles had been of little help when it came to gleaming information about Spike’s time with Giles and the Council. ‘The Brits’, as she had come to call them, were all very tight lipped about it, including Spike who had refused time and time again to answer her questions. Which only meant one thing – they were hiding something. Had to be. That was just all fine, well and good because now she was going to find out exactly what it was that made Spike, uhmmm – Mr. William Giles, tick.

“What secrets do you hold?” She asked as she finally opened the cover, revealing gold trimmed pages and an inscription that told her that the journal had been a gift from Giles…so that Spike could put his thoughts down ‘on something nicer than notebook paper’. The importance of this gesture by her former Watcher was not lost on her; in fact, it made her love Giles all the more for taking care of Spike during what was, without a doubt, a very difficult time for them both.

There was no going back now, now that she had it open. Her heart beat rapidly as she scanned the pages, noting that each entry began in neat and proper handwriting, but for whatever reason, ended almost illegibly. After she read the first entry, she knew the cause for the change. He had been in pain. Not physically, but emotionally. What he experienced had been a deep emotional pain that no one, including himself, could quiet. That type of pain was something that stuck with you, day and night. While you were awake. While you slept. It was the type of hurt that snaked it’s way through your body, wrapping itself around every muscle, every nerve, letting you know that it was a part of your being until you just couldn’t breathe, let alone function normally. She knew that pain…all too well.

With each entry that she read, her heart ached more for the man she loved and the things he had endured to find his way back to her. He had truly been through hell and back. For her. All for her. She closed her eyes, suppressing the rush of emotions that now swept through her, screaming for her to run upstairs to hold him and never let him go. Instead of doing exactly that, she pushed herself to continue – to finish what she started when she opened Pandora’s box…or in this case, Spike’s journal, which seemed to be filled with nothing more than pain and guilt. Reading this was like gawking at a train wreck or a car accident – you know you shouldn’t be looking, but yet you just can’t bring yourself to look away.

It was horrible, all of it, including the parts that were about her and how much he hated himself for what he had tried to do, what he had tried to take from her. Deep down she had known how terrible he had felt about that night, but she had never understood the depth of his sorrow, until now. The self-loathing that dripped from every word – ‘Why did I do it? I can never take it back or make up for it. Luv, I’m so sorry, don’t ever forgive me!’ – cut to the very core of her being. These were not the words of a man who would purposely harm her. The day that he had come back, when he had spoken to her alone in the training room for the first time since the incident, she had seen the sincerity in his eyes and had forgiven him for his transgression. However, it wasn’t until this moment, that she totally understood what Giles had meant all those years ago when he had told her that to forgive was an act of compassion, not done because people deserved it, but because they needed it. Spike had most certainly needed it.

Finally, after several hours of reading more guilt and more pain, she decided that it was time to return the book to it’s hiding place and go back to bed, not so much to sleep but to just hold Spike and be close to him. Standing up, she wiped the tears from her eyes, causing the book to fall to the floor. As she leaned over to pick it up, she noticed that a small piece of paper stuck out from the middle of the journal. Without hesitation she pulled the paper from it’s place, opened it and began reading it aloud.

A poem to my darling Buffy…

Roses are red…
Violets are blue…
You’ve just been busted reading my journal…
Now what will you do?

“Huh?” She asked, wrinkling up her nose. “What kind of poem is that?”

“One that says exactly what it means,” a voice said from the stairs.

She spun around to see Spike standing there, his back against the wall, arms folded across his chest and a smug smile gracing his face. Blushing, she quickly tried to hide the book behind her back. How long had he been there?

“What’s that you’ve got there, Slayer?” He inquired, one eyebrow quirked and the grin becoming wider.

“N-nothing,” she stuttered. Caught. She had been caught red handed. How was she going to talk her way out of this one? Why hadn’t she sensed his presence, heard him descend the steps? Him not being a vampire anymore really made things difficult sometimes.

“Right. And I’m really William Giles,” he teased, closing the distance between the two of them. “Now, I’m going to ask again. What do you have behind your back?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine. Here,” she said as she thrust the book towards him.

“Caught with your hands in the proverbial cookie jar...” he said with a smirk as he took it from her, their fingers brushing in the process. He watched as her anger deflated with his touch. There was only one thing left for him to do now. It was time for her punishment. Turning around, he casually tossed the journal on the table by the wall and then turned back, encircling her waist with his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked playfully, batting at his chest as he pulled her tighter against him.

“I’d say it’s about time I discipline you for your behavior.”

Her eyes widened and she stopped struggling. “What do you mean discipline me? I didn’t do anything wrong…well, not really anyway.”

“Really? You mean sneaking out of our room and coming down here to read my personal thoughts is something that occurs often then?”

“No! It’s just that I…”

“You what, Buffy?” He asked, cocking his head to the left and staring at her intently.

Oh God. Not the head tilt, she thought. And those eyes, how could she deny anything with those blue eyes looking at her that way? Closing her own eyes, she sighed, trying to summon the strength to go on. “It’s just that I wanted to know more about what happened to you. You wouldn’t tell me and neither would the guys, so I just thought that all of you were hiding something from me.” Everything came out in a rush, but she felt better saying the words, finally giving voice to her concerns.

“Buffy…”

“Don’t,” she said stopping him. “I know you weren’t, it’s just that I don’t like secrets and I thought you were keeping something from me because you didn’t trust me. Now I know you weren’t and I’m sorry for not believing in you.” She looked up into his eyes, begging for him to forgive her, to understand her actions.

“Buffy, I didn’t tell you those things not because I didn’t want you to know them, but because it was still just too painful to talk about. Sometimes, some things are better left unsaid.”

“You’re right. But I want you to know that if you ever need to talk about it, any of it, I’m here. I’m not exactly Miss Forthcoming with stuff either…”

“No! You don’t say!”

She punched him lightly in the arm as a broad smile crossed her face. “I’m trying to be serious here!”

“I’m sorry, Luv. Please continue.”

“Spike, I know we’re both sorta new at this whole relationship thing and our track records aren’t the greatest…”

“Now hold on right there,” he said, feigning indignence. “I’ll have you know that Dru and I…”

“Hey! She left you! Twice! And let’s not even talk about the Angelus thing. So don’t give me that whole song and dance about how great of a relationship you two had.”

He chuckled. “Right you are. I just love when you get your knickers in a twist.”

“As I was saying, regardless of what direction my knickers are twisting,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I’m here for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Pet,” he replied, touching his forehead to hers. He suddenly felt a surge of love sweep through his being, knowing that she was trying her best to open up to him. They had come such a long way since their first meeting. So many obstacles over come. Had he known that her reading his journal would help her as well, he would have left it lying around for her to find long before this. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m ready to talk about it all.”

“Promise?” She asked, searching his eyes for the truth.

“Promise,” he said, nodding and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

She whimpered softly when he pulled back, pleading with him to kiss her again. There were times when she thought she would never get enough of him, and having him this close and feeling the pangs that she did after reading his thoughts, she wanted nothing more than to comfort him and show him how much she loved him.

Soon their kiss turned passionate and before things could get out of hand, Spike swept her up in his arms and headed towards the stairs. “What’s say you and I continue this conversation in bed?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said breathlessly. “There’s just one question I have to ask though.”

“What’s that, Luv?”

“How did you know I was going to read it?”

“Simple logic really,” he replied as he looked her in the eye and smiled mischievously. “Figured since the first thing I did when I moved in was read your diaries, you’d do the same given half the chance.”

“You read my diaries?” She bellowed, incredulously. “How dare you…”

He laughed as he set her back down on the floor, making her even angrier. She looked so beautiful was she was brassed off. “Ah, ah, ah, Slayer. Glass houses and such,” he stated, wagging a finger at her.

She blushed again when she realized he was right. “Fine. Whatever. Next time I’m going to be the one with the glass house and you’ll be the one without the stones.”

“Next time, right,” he said dryly with a smile. “Before the next time though, I think there’s a bed calling our names.”

She smiled warmly at him, and placed her hand on his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Pet,” he replied as he swept her up into his arms once again and kissed her passionately.

The last coherent thought she had before Spike whisked her back upstairs was that he had been right; some things were better left unsaid.

The End