tamingthemuse | Her Saving Grace, 10/?, Spike/Fred, R

WEEK 30!! *jumps up and down like a two year old*

Erm, yes. *coughs* On to the fic.

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Ten of ?
Prompt: #30 - Arrhizal for

tamingthemuse
Warnings: Character death (not the permanent variety)
Summary: An accident one night changes Fred's entire world. Shunned by the people who should care the most, she turns to the one person who does care, and finds something beyond friendship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Not even my mind these days.

Word count: 3136

Previous parts here

Pretty by

spikeshunny

Pretty by

mentalme85

Chapter 10: Grounding

The next night found Spike moving everything out to the new place while Fred made sure nothing was left behind. She'd offered to help, and had actually been looking forward to picking up the heavy boxes with ease, but Spike had told her to stay behind and tidy up. “Let me take care of the things with weight, and then later we can just grab the remainin' boxes and leave for good.”

The remaining boxes were actually just two little cardboard boxes they'd left out for all the “left over” things. All that was in them so far was a t-shirt she'd found behind the bed, two stakes from the bathroom, a first aid kit from beside them, and their toothbrushes. That was it.

Which left Fred with about thirty free minutes or so for thinking.

If she was a vampire now, she could've helped with the boxes, no problem. Spike hadn't needed to do that all by himself. He was probably trying to do the gentlemanly thing, but that left her feeling like the little woman charged with the duties of the house and the itty bitty boxes a two year old could carry.

For some reason, his words had unsettled her, angered her and saddened her all at once. The anger hadn't lasted long, but the sadness had, and with it the thoughts of what exactly she was accomplishing now.

She wasn't working in her lab, trying to find ways to help Angel and the people of LA. All she'd done so far was upset Spike's life. He'd graciously taken her in, given her a room, and what had she done for him? Made him go out more often for blood, made him run for his life, made him give up his apartment and move somewhere else because of her.

What good was she now? She couldn't really do anything, now that she was a vampire. Spike's simple actions and words from earlier agreed with that point. All she could do was exist. She could read, sure. She could drink blood. If she was being honest, all she could do was take up space. Spike didn't deserve that. Even if he liked her, he shouldn't be doing this. Even if she liked him, she couldn't do this. Not to him.

The front door opened, and Spike stepped inside the empty apartment with a grin. “We find anythin' odd between the cupboards?” he asked.

“Just a t-shirt that used to be black and is now practically white, thanks to the dust bunnies behind the bed,” she said, forcing a smile on her face. She'd have to tell him. She'd go back to her own apartment, get out of his hair, and...do what? Wait for Angel to come and...who knew what he'd do.

Spike's grin fell slightly, and his brow furrowed as he gazed at her. Then he was grinning again a few seconds later. “Then we'll just grab up the boxes and head out, eh? Almost like a fairy-tale, except I'm not gonna be the bloody Fairy Godmother. But I will take you out of the little, and apparently dusty, apartment and take you to the gleamin' and glistenin' palace. Well, not a palace, but you get my drift. Should I call you Frinderella now?” he teased. “Or would Frederella work better?”

“Frarrhizal would probably be best,” she mumbled, turning to grab the boxes. They were easy to take with one hand, and she turned back, blinking up at Spike who was now standing almost nose to nose with her with a very serious expression on his face, his grin long gone.

He took the boxes from her hand, setting them down on the kitchen counter beside them. Once his hand was free, he brought it back to gently hold her chin and raise her eyes to his. “You listen to me,” he said softly. “You are not useless in the slightest.” Her eyes widened, and his other hand rose to place a finger to her lips. “You forget you're talkin' to a literature geek who's a vampire with super-sensitive hearin'.”

She gave a sheepish grimace. She should've known he'd pick up on it in both senses.

“I don't want you thinkin' that you're nothin' more than a bug that should be picked off and tossed away because it has no value,” he said.

“I'm really not much better,” she started, but he shushed her.

“None of that. We'll get you doin' something to keep that mind of yours sharp, I promise. And that'll start with your training. If you're gonna be a vampire who's able to survive in this world, you've got to know how you work. I've been a vamp for so long I take those things for granted,” he said apologetically. “We'll get you goin'. I promise, Fred.”

Fred bit her lip. “It's not...not that. It's...” She sighed and glanced down. “I've done nothing but cause you grief.”

“Have not.”

Fred shook her head. “Angel's on your tail because of me.”

“Angel's always on my bloody tail.”

“You let me invade your space.”

“Invade's hardly the word I'd use, and I like the space a bit more when it's with someone else.”

“I, uh, I took your bed.”

“Graspin' at straws now, are we? I gave you my bed. You didn't take it. Try again.”

She was grasping at straws. Every argument she'd had solid and ready while she'd thought was now crumbling, thanks to his soft tone and his easy smile. “You, um, have to go buy blood more often...?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Sorry, excuse doesn't hold. I hate to inform you, but you're not a useless person. Sorry if that burst a bubble or two.”

“Then what am I?” she asked. “If I'm not doing anything, I can't even help you move stuff over to the new place, I'm the reason you have a new place when you were just fine here, but now that Angel's following us we have to move and...”

“Shhh,” he whispered, placing his finger on her lips again. “Reason I didn't have you helpin' me was because I wanted it to be a bit of a surprise. I didn't mean to make you feel this way, luv. So that part's my fault entirely.”

“No, it's mine,” she said, sighing and shaking her head at herself. “I don't know why I even started thinking all of this.”

“Fred, you've got a beautiful brain, but let's face it, it's been bored. And I should've known better than to leave a genius bored,” Spike said, and when she glanced at him, he smiled. She found her lips curving up in response.

“I'll do my best to keep it busy from now on, promise,” he said. He leaned forward then, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed against her forehead. Sweet, chaste, good. She was good now.

When she opened her eyes, he was pulling away, and their eyes met with him closer than before. He stopped, she froze, and for a minute everything else besides them disappeared. It was just the look in his eyes that said he wondered, her non-existent heart hammering away in her mind, and the very tiny space between them.

After a few moments, he pulled back, giving her a friendly smile. “Should get goin', or we won't be able to grab tacos to christen the new place with,” he said, turning and heading for the door. Her mind was still stuck on the I could've kissed him part of her day to acknowledge what he was saying.

She wouldn't have. Shouldn't, even; she hadn't even told him how she felt yet. There'd just been thoughts and wondering. Like she'd seen him do a few moments before. She could wait. She would tell him, and then she would wait, and then she'd get the kiss she found herself suddenly wondering about. She had an eternity to wait, after all. She didn't really have a biological clock ticking anymore.

Or you could have an eternity OF waiting, a voice in her head whispered. She could feel her demon coming forward in her thoughts, and it whispered again, Don't be afraid. Take what you want. What you know he wants. Buffy told you he likes you. If you don't start it, he might never start it, and you'll both be nowhere.

He was almost at the door, and she was still back at the counter, silently trying to figure out what she should do. She should tell him first.

Why?

It was the proper thing to do. Well, at least she'd always thought so. And didn't she need an invitation to kiss him?

No. Actions speak louder than words ever could, you know that. You could have something wonderful, but you have to reach out and take it.

He opened the door out to the hallway, and Fred stepped forward towards him. He turned back to her, and blinked when he found her practically nose to nose with him. She bit her lip for a moment more, then reached forward, her hands cupping the sides of his face, bringing his lips down to hers.

The first touch was simply that: a touch. His lips against hers, and they felt soft and silky and everything that was wonderful.

A moment later, and he parted his lips slightly to pull ever so gently on hers, and she closed her eyes, letting her lips move against his like a dance. Slow, gentle movements, skin gliding across skin, wet and soft and perfect.

She felt herself falling into the kiss, losing herself completely in the feel of him, the touch of him, and now the taste of him as her tongue daringly slid out to lick his lower lip. He made a soft noise, and it made her want to do it again, so she did. His tongue met hers this time, and she parted her lips further, not wanting an eternity of waiting, but an eternity of this.

She pulled away finally, wanting to gauge his expression and his feelings. When she raised her eyes to his, she knew she'd done the right thing. He looked as if he were glowing, and she could see his smile reflected in his eyes long before she saw his lips turned up.

“Someone tapped into her demon's impetus,” he said, raising his eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, smiling. “It seemed to make sense, so I listened.”

“Knew you were smart,” Spike murmured, and her smile grew.

“Ready to see the new place?” he asked, and she nodded, following him out of the apartment. As they walked, though, his hand found hers, and his fingers found themselves tenderly tangled in hers.

Fred tangled hers back, and hand in hand they headed down the corridor.

The minute she saw the door, she knew she'd love the place. It was dark wood with knots that almost looked as if they were placed to match the constellations. She was sure if she stared hard enough at them, she'd figure out a few.

Spike slid the key home, and it was really strange to be able to hear it in the lock, tapping against metal and pins and slowly disengaging the lock. She bet vampires would be awesome lock-pickers.

He began to open the door, then stopped, glancing at her. “Ladies first,” he said, giving a small bow.

Fred grinned and did a small curtsy. “Why thank you kindly,” she told him, before turning the knob and stepping inside.

She didn't get very far. Two steps in, and she stopped, then she took a step back so she could really see everything.

The walls in the living space were a green mix, not light enough to be deemed good for Easter colors, but not dark enough that the room became a forest at eternal night. This green was solid and colorful and faded out enough that the eyes didn't burn, and the entire room seemed to come alive because of it. The floor was a light, smooth wood, the type of wood she'd dreamed of having to dance on as a little girl in her parents' one story house, and her eyes couldn't get any rounder.

“We'll have to get some furniture,” Spike's voice came from behind her. “Buffy said she'd help on that matter. She said we needed to find something metallic, since she didn't like the thought of either of us hangin' around wood chairs.”

Fred grinned despite her awe and wonder. “She's got a point, you know.”

“Yeah, but in the likelihood of a fight, that means we're stuck with nothin' to break into kindling and weapons.”

“We already have weapons, and we could use the metal chairs to knock them out,” she said, stepping inside further.

Spike was either contemplating that, or didn't have an answer. The ceiling was higher than she'd originally thought, making the smallish room look even bigger and more welcoming. To the left was an open kitchen, with a counter that held a light above it and space below it for bar stools. The back counter beyond that held the usual electric suspects: the fridge, the microwave, and the oven. There was space in between them for placing things, and on the right wall of the kitchen the counter branched out to the sink. The wood on the cabinets above the counters and the counters themselves matched the floor in the living area, and the floor in the kitchen was a dark tile.

“There's more,” Spike spoke up again, and she turned to see where he was pointing. A wide hallway led off opposite the kitchen, and she made her steps quick. The bounce she couldn't help; this place was like a tiny castle, beautiful and enchanting and inviting. How could anyone NOT love this place?

There were four doors from the hallway; two on the left side, one on the right side, and one straight ahead. She opened the first door and glanced inside.

Empty for now, but the cream colored walls were a beautiful mix with the wood on the floor. She flipped the light-switch, and blinked when a soft glow entered the room from the right corner. There was something in the room: a tall lamp, and its glow gave the room a warm feeling. She smiled as she flipped the switch again, turning the lamp off, and headed further down the hall.

The second door on the left was either an itsy-bitsy bedroom, or a large walk-in closet, the walls the same cream as the previous bedroom. Probably the latter, for whatever they needed it for. The door on the right turned out to be a bathroom, which was actually a fairly decent size. The last door was straight ahead of her, and she opened it.

And froze. The walls caught her eye first: a dark, beautiful red, a romantic color that reminded her of roses. There were four lights in the room, each positioned in the walls at the four corners, and the lone piece of furniture in the room made her stare.

Dark wood, polished wood, not carved, but striking nonetheless. Four tall towers standing at attention at the corners. Large frame, filled with a large and thick sea of comfort that she wanted to dive right into.

A four poster bed.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered. Now she was convinced that she was a fairy-tale princess, and she'd been brought back to the palace.

“You like?” Spike asked from right behind her. She glanced back at him and found his own smile there from obvious hope.

“I love,” she told him, and watched the smile perk up with pride. He'd picked well, very well, and she told him as much.

“Had a friend help me search,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, and he looked adorable standing there all bashful and blushing without the actual blood rising to his face.

She leaned up on tip-toe to plant a kiss to his cheek, and his blushing would've deepened, if the look on his face was anything to go by. “It's perfect,” she said. “Thank you.”

“It's me who should be thankin' you, luv,” he said. “If all that 'grief' hadn't happened, I'd be sittin' alone back at the old apartment. I'd rather be here with you,” he added softly.

And how could she not smile at that?

“We need furniture,” she said, and he nodded.

“It'll have to wait until tomorrow: while the apartment might only have a couple windows, the rest of the world doesn't.”

She blinked, glancing into the bedroom. One lone window that was covered with heavy blinds was on the left wall. It was only then that she realized that was window one out of two. The other was in the living space, also heavily blinded.

“Your friend knows you're a vampire, doesn't he,” she said, feeling silly for stating the obvious, but the obvious hadn't really occurred to her until just now.

“He's known me for years, actually,” Spike said. “Long before I even came to LA. I'll take you to meet him sometime; Clem's a real friendly sort. Should take Buffy too. I know she was worried about him gettin' out of Sunnyhell all right. I'll give her a ring tomorrow.”

“Do we have a phone in here?” she asked, glancing around. She'd seen outlets, but she hadn't really seen a phone.

“There's a pay-phone downstairs,” Spike told her. “We're the third floor up, which means we're distant enough that we won't hear people comin' and goin' too much, but we're not the fifth floor, which means we get a bit of a walking break. And THAT will be important come furniture day. But today is just moving in day.”

“And that was enough,” she assured him, glancing around again. The place was perfect; his friend, whoever Clem was, had a good eye.

“Last touch,” Spike said, causing her to turn back to him. Something came at her, and her hands flew out to catch it, then blinked at the little gold key she now held. “We'll have to get you somethin' to put it on so you're not digging into every pocket trying to find it,” he said.

Just a little key, but the words behind it spoke volumes. The last of the fears she hadn't known she'd had were chased from her thoughts at the strongest symbol of his wanting her there. She had a key to get in anytime, which made this place partially hers. Shared with him. His home, her home, their home.

She raised her eyes to meet his, before she let her smile that was going to be blinding begin to grow.

< --- >

Awwww, aren't we feeling all sappy now? *cackles and rubs hands together gleefully*

~Nebula