"Secrets & Lies"
Author: Lynx
Email: lmentus@rochester.rr.com
Notes: For my fellow couch-sitters, especially Chelle, who never stopped
prodding. Bless your heart!
Freshly showered and surprisingly relaxed, Spike walked down the hall to his room, still thinking about the Slayer. HIS Slayer. He rubbed the towel over his wet hair, thoughts of her careening around inside his head. *I can't believe I told her that stuff, what the fuck is wrong with me?* Only Angelus had known about his childhood; he'd never even told Dru. *Bad enough that Angel knew, fuckin' wanker used it every chance he got.*
All the Slayer had had to do was ask, and he'd spilled his guts like one of those losers on Jerry Springer. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it. Part of him was glad that they'd shared something other than sex, while the rest of him wished he'd kept his big mouth shut.
Spike turned his attention to the warning she'd given him as they'd said goodbye. *Someone's making fledglings...interesting.* It wasn't against the rules, per se, but it 'was' proper etiquette to inform your Master, so that the new vampire could be welcomed into the fold. Someone obviously had something to hide. His money was on Darius- the sneaky little fuck. It was time to teach the boy some manners.
He opened the door to his room and stopped short. *Well, well, well, speak of the soon-to-be-dead little devil.*
Darius sat sprawled in a chair, looking for all the world like he belonged there. He looked up at Spike defiantly, not even standing at his Master's approach. *Kid's got a big pair, I'll give him that. Too bad they're about to be ripped off and shoved down his throat.*
Spike felt the familiar 'calm before the violence' settle over him, the air going perfectly still as he stared at the insolent vampire. His eyes glittered like chips of blue ice, every muscle tightly coiled to spring. When he spoke, the words were uttered in a dangerously low voice, one that had struck terror into countless hearts in the past, undead as well as alive.
"You have thirty seconds to convince me not to rip out your throat." Secretly, he'd always wanted to say that again. He hadn't had the patience to enjoy it the first time around, when that annoying little friend of the Slayer's had come calling. Spike watched as Darius squirmed and struggled to maintain his composure.
The younger vampire waited about fifteen seconds before replying. "Mark overheard something tonight that I thought you should know about."
"And that something is? It had better be good, for you to have invaded my privacy."
"Mark heard the Slayer's friends talking about how she killed Angelus and Drusilla. Several days ago, in the cemetary. I figured you'd want to hear about it right away." Darius was eyeing Spike cautiously, an 'I told you so' look on his face.
*FUCK! C'mon, Spike, make the save, burst the little shit's bubble-THINK, you fucking wanker!*
"Yes, well, I already HAVE heard about it, earlier tonight. I was planning on telling everyone myself tomorrow evening, IF the story is true."
"What do you mean, if? You don't believe that they're dead?"
"I find it hard to believe that the Slayer was able to get the drop on two vampires as powerful as Angel and Dru. Especially if they were together. I'd like to hear exactly how she did it." *Yeah, that's it, stall for time.*
Spike continued to stare down Darius, his face completely expressionless. He pretty much knew that the jig was up and he'd have to show some anger sometime soon. Darius would be expecting him to go ballistic.
Leaping to his feet in righteous anger, Darius began ranting. "If it's true, then the Slayer will have to pay for what she's done! She can't be allowed to live after this! I'll rip her still beating heart from her chest and make her watch while I eat it."
*Melodramatic much? Bloody hell, now I'm using her slang.* Spike almost laughed; the whole thing was just too funny. Or would have been, if he wasn't so pissed off about Darius being in his room.
He let his demon out, summoning just the right amount of rage. In two quick strides, he had Darius by the throat, lifting him until he was completely suspended in the air.
"The Slayer's blood is MINE! As eldest childe and current Master, vengeance is MY right...my responsibility. Anyone who usurps that right will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?" In full vamp mode, Spike let Darius feel the vast difference between a near fledgling and a two hundred year old Master, his power filling the room and crackling in the tense air.
With a look of indifference, he dropped Darius to the floor. "The Slayer will pay all right, but it will be at my hands. I'll have that bitch on her knees before me, begging for mercy." The Slayer, on her knees, begging. He had to force himself not to react to the arousing image that popped into his head.
Darius was quiet now, his head bowed respectfully. Everything within him balked at Spike's authority, but he wasn't stupid enough to show it. Spike could see it- the anger coursing through the younger vampire's body, anger at having to submit to someone else.
If anything, he understood it, remembering his own feelings toward Angelus. *Yeah, well tough.* That was the way things were and Darius would just have to deal with it. Or he would cease to exist. It was as simple as that.
Spike looked at the vampire in front him, seeing the wasted potential. It was a shame, really; Darius was the only one left with half a brain, and Spike hated to lose him. But he wouldn't think twice about taking him out, if the need arose.
"Get out, Darius. We're finished here." Spike watched as the vampire scrambled to his feet, letting him get to the door before adding, "By the way, your little fledgling won't be coming home. The Slayer got him."
Darius froze, wondering how Spike knew. "I thought it would help, if we had an increase in numbers." He was starting to feel actual fear. Why did Spike always seem to be one step ahead of him?
"Always thinking, aren't you Darius? No matter. From now on, I'll do the thinking for you. And if I ever catch you in my room again, you'll be wishing for the Slayer's stake to end your suffering." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Consider this your final warning...I'll brook no more insolence from you. Understand?"
The menace in Spike's voice was plain. He savored the other vampire's distress, enjoying the taste of fear that emanated from the cowed fledgling.
"Yes, Spike. It won't happen again." Darius quickly left the room, choking on his fear and rage. He vowed to find a way to remove Spike as Master of Sunnydale, even if it killed him.
Buffy slowly walked through the library doors, completely wrapped up in thoughts of the night before...and Spike. Spike the man, not Spike the demon.
The man who laughed when she tickled him. The man who brushed rose petals over her skin. The man who looked at her with so much desire in his eyes that it made her knees go weak. The man who'd once been a scared little boy, fighting for his life.
It was getting easier to forget that the demon existed, now that she'd experienced Spike's other side. Caught a glimpse of his heart, maybe even his soul. Buffy had to believe that his humanity had survived the change intact; how else to explain his capacity for tenderness, compassion, and...love. She had to find out, had to know, now that she'd allowed herself to admit that she loved him.
"Giles? Are you here?" Buffy walked over to the table and threw her books down. She turned to see Giles coming out of his office, nose buried in a book.
He looked up and adjusted his glasses, squinting at the sunlight streaming through the windows. "Ah, Buffy...I was just...researching our friend Spike. Not a lot written about him, I'm afraid, although there are various accounts of mayhem during the mid 1800's. Not surprisingly, Angelus is also mentioned quite frequently."
Buffy didn't want to hear horror stories about Spike, not now. She decided to confront Giles with her questions about the whole soul thing.
"Listen Giles, about Angelus...something's been bothering me, and I wanted to ask you about it." She sat down at the table and watched as he pulled up a chair.
"Go on." Giles looked at her expectantly, wondering what was on her mind.
"Giles, do you think that it's possible we're wrong, that a person's soul doesn't leave when the demon moves in? That maybe the demon takes control, uses a person's dark side, and enhances it?"
"I'm not sure what you mean." He was curious to see where she was going with this.
"Angelus was completely evil, right? Incapable of love. We just assumed it was the demon, that he was soulless when he was Angelus. But what if that was actually part of Angel's personality when he was human?"
Giles looked at her in shock. He couldn't imagine where this was coming from. Angel had loved Buffy; it had shown in the way he looked at her, the way he spoke about her, in everything he did.
"W-Why would you think that Angel had been incapable of feeling love as a human? He was capable of it when you were together. It was only after...well, after he lost his soul that his ability to love was taken away."
Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, trying to find a way to talk about Spike without giving anything away. "So, you're saying that it's the demon who's unable to feel human emotions. Well, if a vampire is supposed to be incapable of love, then how do you explain Spike? He's able to love...to care about someone other than himself. Why couldn't Angelus?"
"Buffy, we don't know that Spike is-"
"Yes, we do! We do so know it!" She forced herself to speak calmly, rationally. "Giles, how long was Spike with Drusilla? A hundred years? Why would a soulless demon hang around with one person that long, unless he really cared about her?"
"Buffy, have you forgotten what Spike has done since coming to Sunnydale? Parent/Teacher Night, the Order of Taraka? All the times he's tried to kill you? I sincerely doubt that Spike has a soul."
"It was all done for Drusilla. Everything he did was all for her, trying to cure her. Remember that whole thing with Ford? The only way I was able to stop Spike that night was to point a stake at his girlfriend's heart. Giles, he didn't even hesitate; he backed right off. Spike loved her, I'm sure of it." Buffy got up and began to pace, trying to put her thoughts into words.
Giles watched her with a frown. "All the more reason why I think that we should be extremely cautious where Spike is concerned. And I still don't understand what this has to do with Angel."
"I'm getting to it, and don't worry about Spike, I can handle him." She stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "Okay, here's my theory- I think that the soul stays and the demon becomes the dominant personality. But the person's real nature is what comes out, because the demon releases their inhibitions. Everything that's dark or negative comes to the surface. A weak or evil person just lets the demon do whatever it wants."
The researcher in Giles was intrigued now. And surprised at this very well thought out hypothesis. He'd always suspected that Buffy was more intelligent than she sometimes let on.
"If what you're saying is true, then what about Angel's curse? The curse was supposed to restore his soul; how could it, if he never lost it?"
"I don't think it did." Buffy looked up at him with pain filled eyes. "Angelus was completely devoid of humanity, and almost as crazy as Drusilla, in some ways. I think the curse restored his sanity- his sense of right and wrong- not his soul. Gave him a conscience, I guess. But I think that maybe his soul was already poisoned...before he became a vampire."
Giles was stunned. He'd never once considered the possibility that Angel had already been corrupted. He'd never seen any cruelty in him, until he became Angelus.
"Think about it Giles. Angel drove Drusilla crazy before he made her a vampire. And she stayed crazy afterward. If the demon was the sole personality, why would it be insane? It could be anything, if it was only using the body as a shell. And if it keeps the person's original identity, then why wouldn't Angelus be capable of love? Unless Angel wasn't capable of it in the first place."
It hurt, to think that all along she'd been in love with someone who might not have been the person she thought he was. But she knew nothing of his past, nothing of his mortal life. Spike, the supposed demon, had shared his human side with her, while Angel, the soul-filled vampire, had neglected to tell her anything at all.
"Giles, Angel never told me anything about his past. I have no idea what he was like when he was human. If he really loved me, why didn't he share anything with me? Maybe he didn't want me to know, because there wasn't anything good." Buffy started to cry and Giles hurried to take her in his arms. He rubbed her back while she sobbed, unsure of how to comfort her, but relieved that she was finally dealing with her grief. Thinking about what she had told him, he had to admit that it did sound plausible. Of course, if it was true, much of what they'd believed to be so could be rendered useless. It was something he needed to look into, that was certain.
Buffy's tears were ceasing, and she pulled away, sniffling. Giles handed her his handkerchief, studying her tear stained face. "You've, ah, given rather a lot of thought to all of this, haven't you?"
"Yeah, well...not sleeping gives you a lot of time for thought. I don't know how it all started, it's just that...Angelus was emotionally dead, you could see it in his eyes. If he were human, he'd probably be one of those socio-whatevers-"
"Sociopath."
"One of those. Anyway, I couldn't seem to stop comparing him to Spike. Spike's a killer, he's destructive, but he's also rational. He goes after something and finishes it. Spike isn't cruel and sadistic. He doesn't play with his food, the way that Angel did." She looked up at Giles, hoping that he'd understand without seeing too much. "I keep remembering how Angel was when I...when he-" Her head turned away from him. "He was like a rabid dog, Giles. When I killed him."
Buffy met his eyes squarely, and once again Giles could see the inner strength that enabled her to survive the many horrors that the Hellmouth managed to cough up.
"I'll see what I can find, all right? But are you sure you want to know? Wouldn't you rather remember him as the Angel you loved and...who loved you in return?"
"I just need to know, Giles. I'm not exactly sure why." She turned and began moving around the room restlessly, in an almost unconcious imitation of Spike. There was just one more question, one more thing that she had wondered about.
"Has it ever happened before? A vampire and a Slayer?" Her voice was low and hoarse from crying.
"You mean...like you...and Angel?"
*No, not Angel. Angel was a mistake.* She looked up with a half smile that was nearly a grimace. "Yeah, like me and Angel."
"I'm not sure, I-I do remember reading something...somewhere, perhaps in one of the earliest Watcher diaries. It will take some digging, I suspect."
Buffy nodded. "Willow will want to help, I'm sure. You know how she loves a good research party." She turned to look at him and they both grinned, thinking of Willow's enthusiasm.
Giles cleared his throat. "Ready to train? We could try the swords today."
Buffy smiled brightly at him, glad for the chance think about something other than the questions that had been puzzling her. There would be time later for searching through boring, musty old books. Right now, all she wanted to do was keep moving and hit a few things. It was, after all, what she did best.
I'm on a train, but there's no one at the helm
And there's a demon in my brain starts to overwhelm
And there it goes, my last chance for peace
I lay me down, but I get no release
Images burned behind closed eyelids, bringing with them feelings that Spike thought had died with his mortal life. William, cowering in a corner of the filthy room as blows from her hairbrush rained down on his thin body. His mother's once beautiful face now ugly with anger and hatred. Pleading with her to stop, please stop, he'd only meant to look- "I'LL TEACH YOU...FILTHY BRAT...TOUCHING MY THINGS..." Each word punctuated by the sound of hard wood smacking against flesh and bone.
I try to keep awake
I try to swim beneath
But I can feel this narcolepsy slide
Into another nightmare
Spike rolled, pulling the pillow over his head, trying to block out the movie playing inside his brain- but the scenes kept coming...in technicolor.
Emma, puking all over the floor after one of her drinking binges. His own belt being used to whip him, the buckle cutting into his skin. His grandmother had given it to him- real leather, for wearing to church on Sundays. They didn't go to church anymore; Emma was always too hungover. Will had tried to go by himself, but Emma had caught him and used the belt on him, saying that bastards didn't belong in church; they were evil and an affront to God. He had never gone back, believing that God would strike him down if he did.
And I hold my breath 'til it's
more than I can take
And I close my eyes and dream that I'm awake
The pain was sharp and insistent, stabbing through him like the knife that had once felt so perfect in his hand. Tossing and turning, trapped between waking and dreaming, Spike was powerless to stop the onslaught of memories.
Ten years old, waking up to find Emma drunk, touching his hair, stroking his cheek. "Such a beautiful boy...Mum needs you to take care of her..." Her hand sliding lower, reaching for him while he lay there frozen, unable to stop her. Hating himself and wishing her dead. Wanting to run away, but having no idea where to go.
I try to keep awake
I try to keep awake
After that he had begun spending more time in the streets, only going home every few days to make sure that she hadn't choked on her own vomit. Sleeping in the livery stable, armed with a knife taken off of one of his 'marks'. Drawing blood before his eleventh year, when one of the sailors tried to rape him.
He'd stabbed the man in the gut, knife sliding easily through vital organs, feeling the hot blood pour over his hand. Horror and satisfaction mingling until his own stomach churned, before spilling its contents in the gutter. William the Bloody, a nickname earned long before he ever became a vampire.
Cause my greatest fear is that
sucking sound
And then I know that I will never get back out
The knife had felt like an extension of his hand, sliding into his palm in a split second whenever needed. A small boy with a delicately pretty face and cold eyes, attracting one perverted piece of scum after another, all of them assuming him to be easy prey. All of them feeling the stinging lick of his blade when they attempted to lay their hands on him. Their blood running in the street as he watched, expressionless, before relieving them of what little money they had. He never knew if any of them had died, not really caring one way or another. Completely alone, trusting no one, always pretending to be something he wasn't.
How'd you like to be alone and drowning
Existing one day to the next, growing older and more hardened each year. Finding Emma, bloated with flies and maggots, still in the same filthy room where they'd first settled. Dead several days and no one even noticing the stink coming from her body. Finally free of her, only to end up feeling more lost than before.
Drifting aimlessly...whoring, stealing, fighting, too stubborn to just give up and end it all. Meeting Angelus- so beautiful and seductive- promising untold power and an end to the loneliness. Realizing too late that Angelus was the worst of the lot, worse than anything he'd ever dreamt of as a child.
How'd you like to be alone and drowning
Spike's eyes flew open, unfocused for a moment as he came out of the dream state. *Bloody hell, what was that all about?* Shaking and sweating, he reached out for the Slayer before remembering that he was alone. Disappointment flooded him; he wanted to feel her next to him, needed her warmth to drive away the dreams. He couldn't get used to sleeping alone, not after over a century of having someone beside him almost every night.
Frustrated, he threw the pillow across the room, knocking a lamp to the floor. *Slayer, Slayer- what the fuck am I going to do about you?* How was he supposed to deal with wanting her...needing her, even? He'd never needed anyone before, except Drusilla, and look how badly that had finally turned out.
Spike groaned and flung an arm across his face, trying to dispell the memories that wouldn't go away. They just kept on coming, flashing before his eyes like a bad parody of This Is Your Life.
Remembering...remembering the nights washed in blood; blood that was no longer spilled and wasted but swallowed hungrily, eagerly. Gradually sinking deeper into his own personal hell as he became Angelus' pet; his humiliation complete as he realized that some dark part of him liked being his Sire's fucktoy. Giving the demon free rein, in order not to feel anything except the pleasure derived from feeding...and from being used.
Keep awake
Watching as Angelus became obsessed with Drusilla, driving her insane in order to possess her. Secretly hating him for it, but wanting her with them so badly that he did nothing to stop it.
The three of them, a perfect triangle; a family bound together by blood and lust and Angel's Svengali-like hold. His hatred of Angelus growing along with his love for Drusilla. Finding ways to undermine his Sire, breaking free little by little, until the night that he'd discovered the gypsy encampment.
He'd known that Angelus wouldn't be able to resist the girl. She was his type- young, innocent, pure- all of the things that Angelus liked to corrupt. Pointing her out had been easy and his Sire had taken the bait, just as Spike had known he would. The gypsies hadn't disappointed him; their penchant for revenge perfectly suiting Spike's needs.
Drusilla had never known the part he'd played in the disappearance of her precious "Daddy". All that had mattered was that with Angel out of the picture, Drusilla was Spike's and Spike's alone. Until the Slayer fucked the wrong guy and the prick came back into their lives as if he had never left.
Keep awake
That had been the worst; stuck in that fucking wheelchair, powerless to stop Drusilla from running back to Daddy. Choking on his hatred, biding his time, when all he'd really wanted was to tear off Angel's genitals and ram them down the bastard's throat. Fuck it, it was over now- both of them gone and he was alone again. Except for the Slayer, and who knew how long that would last?
Spike didn't want to think about losing her already, not when they'd only just started. How could he feel this strongly, after only a few days of being with her? It didn't make sense, it was too fucked up. When they were apart he ached from wanting her, could hardly think of anything else. She was screwing up his concentration, something he barely had a grip on as it was.
Keep awake
Spike couldn't understand what was happening to him. Why the memories hurt so much after all this time. It shouldn't be possible, not when he had the demon to take it all away, like it had always done in the past. *What in the bloody hell are you doing, sleeping on the fucking job?*
He depended on the demon to keep him sane, free from guilt and all that shit. If it had gone underground, he was well and truly fucked. How would he keep control of the minions? How could he keep from loving the Slayer, keep from running after her like some halfwit? His unlife was spiraling out of control and he couldn't stop it. Wasn't sure if he even wanted to, if it meant giving up the Slayer.
*FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck...* The endless litany played inside his head as he lay there, contemplating his own destruction.
And I can feel this narcolepsy slide...
-Third Eye Blind
Buffy could hear the phone ringing as she climbed the steps. Unlocking the door, she threw her books down and ran to answer it, picking up the handset with a breathless "Hello?"
"Hello, cutie."
At the sound of his voice, her stomach did a slow, lazy roll and a flush spread over her skin.
"Spike..." He'd never called her before. It felt wonderful and strange all at the same time. "Where are you? Is it safe for you to call me?"
"It's safe, ducks. Fledglings always sleep the whole day. Besides, I'm in my car on a cellphone, so no one can listen in."
"What about you? Don't you sleep?" She could see him in her mind- sprawled across the front seat of his car, probably smoking because he couldn't keep still, hands tapping against the steering wheel. Buffy smiled at the clear image, amazed at how well she felt she knew his mannerisms after such a short time.
"Not much. Never have, actually. As I recall, you couldn't have gotten much sleep this past week either."
"Goes with the job, remember? I'm used to walking around on autopilot. I usually manage to grab catnaps here and there."
Spike was sitting in his car, exactly as she had pictured him. Unable to sleep because of the nightmares, and the memories that he didn't seem to be able to turn off, he'd come down to the garage with his phone, fighting with himself the whole time over whether or not it was wise to call.
Just hearing her voice was comforting in a way, although he would never admit it. He told himself that he was bored, that was all. *Yeah, right.*
"Listen, the reason I called...word's out, luv. About you killing Angel." He didn't like to mention Drusilla. He felt responsible for her, even though it was the Slayer who'd done the actual deed.
"And?"
"And the boys are out for your blood. I told them that the privilege of killing you was mine, but-"
"Gee, thanks. I'm so flattered."
"Slayer, I'm serious. Just...watch your back...all right, pet?"
Buffy gripped the phone tighter and tried to keep her tone light. "You're not worried about me, are you?"
Spike swallowed before answering, relying on his sarcasm to mask what he was feeling. "Of course not, why should I be worried? You're the bloody Slayer, aren't you? If you weren't around I might get bored, is all. And the next Slayer might not be as cute."
Buffy smiled. "So, you think I'm cute?"
He answered automatically, without thinking, "No, I think you're beautiful." *Christ! Why am I always blurting things out like an awkward, bloody teenager around her?* He rammed his head into the steering wheel, hoping to drive some sense into it.
Positive that he could hear her heart pounding over the phone, Buffy tried to think of something to say, anything at all, but her mind refused to cooperate. His words kept replaying in her head- watch your back, I think you're beautiful- words that she would never have expected to hear from him. Not during the day, anyway.
"Spike..."
"Listen, Slayer...I was thinking that maybe we should lay off for a few days. Until I can figure something out. A few of the older ones would like nothing better than to overthrow me and there's no fucking way I'm letting that happen. I need to establish control before some other pillock decides he wants to be Master of Sunnyhell."
She knew that he was right; they did need to back off, if only so that she could get a grip on her own life. Buffy had seen the strange looks that Willow was giving her, and Giles would become suspicious before too long. Still, the thought of not seeing him was almost painful. She wondered if he felt the same way.
"Okay, Spike. We'll back off for now. I need to focus on slaying, anyway." It took everything within her to sound casual about the whole thing. "So, I'll probably see you around?"
"You'll see me, luv. Just don't stake me, all right?"
He was already trying to figure out how to get through the next few days without touching her. He'd probably go mad, but there was no way around it. He had to do something about Darius and the whole mess at the mansion.
"As long as you behave yourself, I won't have to."
"Behaving isn't my strong suit, pet."
Buffy sighed. "I know." *We can do this...we have to, and it's only for a few days, right?*
They reluctantly said goodbye, both of them dreading the days ahead and the nights apart.
The days passed with agonizing slowness. Spike gave Darius permission to create fledglings, then sat back and watched as the Slayer took them out, one by one. It amused him no end, watching the younger vampire grow more angry and frustrated with every defeat. The fact that Spike himself had added five new minions to the family only served to heighten the tension and hostility between the two of them.
Spike had broken his own rule about making 'children', the urgent need for loyal minions overriding his distaste. He'd gone to neighboring towns and searched out strong, athletic types, finally settling on three men and two women who didn't appear to be too terribly stupid. It had been a time consuming process, but at least it had kept his mind off of the Slayer for awhile. And it had irked Darius, which only made it more satisfying.
The new fledglings were nothing special, but they seemed competent enough, and they followed his orders without question. His nights at least, were busy and full, teaching his new charges the ropes and pretending to be planning revenge against the Slayer. The days, however, were another story.
His dreams, when he could sleep at all, were filled with her- her scent, her taste, the incredible heat of her body- each one more vivid than the last. Her hair trailing across his skin. Her hot mouth closing around his cock. Her arms and legs wrapping around him as he sank into her heated depths. He could feel her body twisting beneath him, hear her soft cries as they moved together. Inevitably, he'd wake up spurting into nothingness, his cold semen spilling across his abdomen onto the sheets.
The restlessness which followed the dreams was worse than before, leaving him feeling trapped by the daylight. He tried calling the Slayer a few more times, but it only aggravated the longing- her voice giving him painful hard-ons that refused to go away. His hand was getting tired from jacking off all the time, but he refused to use one of the females to relieve himself.
He didn't want cold flesh anymore, not after being touched by the sun. That was what she represented to him; sunlight- bright, shining, golden. Warming everything around her, even his cold, dead heart.
Without the Slayer to calm him, his agitation grew, manifesting itself in outbursts of violence against Angel's minions. Since he was no longer interested in killing the Slayer, and was unable to fuck her for the time being, terrorizing the minions seemed the next best thing for releasing pent- up aggression. There was nothing more satisfying than slamming someone headfirst into a wall, or seeing the look on their face when he threatened to make them gargle with holy water.
His demon wallowed in their fear and Spike was only too happy to oblige him, lashing out if anyone even looked at him wrong. Keeping the demon happy meant keeping the memories at bay, something that Spike desperately needed to do.
He hated the way they made him feel- almost vulnerable, and he bloody well couldn't allow that, now, could he? So instead, he concentrated on inflicting pain wherever he went, indulging the demon's thirst for bloodshed and brutality. It worked...sort of. He didn't seem to be able to disengage as completely as he once had. Bloody, fucking nuisance, that. It was much easier to hurt and kill if you couldn't feel anything- or better yet, if you could take pleasure in it. Spike didn't want to think about what it all meant. Maybe if he ignored them, the feelings would go away.
Things at the mansion were shaping up. The female fledglings were keeping the boys happy and they made useful spies, telling Spike everything that Angel's minions said about him. Darius was too busy with his little project to stir up much trouble and didn't dare question Spike about his plans for the Slayer. Everyone rushed to do his bidding, feared and respected his power- everything was falling into place. Spike was in control again, just as he'd wanted. So why wasn't he enjoying it?
Kick, spin, kick, punch- Buffy threw everything she had at the vampire, not giving him a chance for retaliation. Another newbie, he didn't even know what hit him as she flipped him to the ground and drove a stake through his heart.
"Another one bites the dust..." she sang as she stood up and looked around the cemetary, hoping for some more action. *No such luck.*
Every night, a new vampire had risen which she had staked efficiently, but she still felt restless. Not enough fight to burn off all of her excess energy and no Spike to relieve her sexual tension. That was the worst part...no Spike.
Her whole body throbbed with need for the blond vampire, and the few times that he'd phoned had only made it worse, that sexy voice of his nearly driving her insane with desire. She'd resorted to touching herself to try to relieve the ache between her legs, but it wasn't the same. She needed to feel HIS hands on her body, wanted to be ravished by his mouth, wanted...Buffy shook her head. Didn't he have any idea what he was doing to her? Did he even care?
Her dreams were so vivid; she could feel him, taste him, smell him; always waking up with his name on her lips, shuddering as she climaxed in her sleep. She didn't think that she could go on like this much longer, gripped by a fever that could only be broken by the coolness of his skin against hers. Walking around like one giant nerve ending, like a stranger in her own skin.
Was this what love was supposed to be like? This aching, burning need? If so, then what had she felt for Angel? Whatever it had been, it certainly hadn't felt this intense, this desperate. Buffy sighed and began heading for home, purposely avoiding the park...and the treehouse.
She'd gone there once, even went inside, some part of her hoping that he'd be there. But the room was empty; the faint scent of candle wax the only evidence of their night together. Her eyes had swept across the floor, catching sight of a single rose petal lying discarded in the corner. It reminded her of how tender Spike had been with her; how open and relaxed he'd seemed. How he'd bared his soul, letting her see more than Angel ever had.
Two hundred years spent on this earth and he'd experienced the worst that life had to offer, much of it occurring when he was still a child. And yet, he'd survived with his sanity, his humor- and yes, his humanity, intact. Humanity, a soul- whatever you wanted to call it- it was there. She had seen it in his face, felt it in his touch, and she would prove its existence, no matter what the cost.
The research wasn't going well. Giles had already checked several sources, trying to determine if it was possible for the soul to stay during the change, but had come up empty handed. There seemed to be no evidence to support her theory. Buffy refused to give up; she'd even offered to look through the books herself, something she rarely- if ever, did.
Tonight, she had paced and hovered over everyone's shoulders, driving them all crazy with her restless interference. Finally, Xander had had enough, voicing what everyone had been thinking but didn't dare say.
"Geez, Buffy! Go out and slay something, would you? You're scarin' the information right out of the books!" He shoved the one he'd been looking at across the table in frustration.
Buffy had been close to retaliating when she realized that leaving would be best for everyone. Grabbing her jacket, she'd stormed out of the library, hoping against hope that she'd run into Spike and be able to relieve some of the agony that she was going through.
*Fat chance!* All she'd found was one pathetic little fledgling, almost not worth the effort it took to stake him. Buffy never thought that she'd actually wish for stronger vamps or new varieties of demons to come along. In the past, she'd always been grateful for some downtime, in fact, had tried to weasel out of slaying more often than not. Now, all she wanted to do was hit something until it was dead. Or fuck Spike until she couldn't see straight.
What was happening to her? Where had all of this aggression come from? These feelings...they reminded her of how she felt after killing the Master. After she'd returned from the dead. Were they a side affect of killing Angel? Or...did they have more to do with Spike? Questions, always questions, but no answers.
"SHIT!" Buffy's frustration echoed in the empty street as she headed home to her equally empty bed.
Spike was bored. Nothing new there- he was always bored, but without the Slayer, things were even more tedious that before. Even hunting was wearing thin, his usual prey offering no challenge. He found himself stalking the biggest, meanest, strongest looking males that he could find, thinking that maybe it would be enough. His time was spent hanging out at sports bars, looking for thick-necked former jocks and bullies- even pretending to be gay so that they'd be provoked into some sort of violence.
He should have known better. Humans were pathetic, the lot of them. Every one of the supposed "tough guys" had crumbled like the nancyboys that they really were, whimpering and pleading for their lives. Christ! He'd killed women who'd shown more spine. At least the women tried, clawing and scratching, going for his balls. *Deadlier than the male? Deadlier than the bunch around here, anyway.*
His female fledglings were starting to show their mettle as well, knowing that they had the males right where they wanted them. They had also made several overtures toward him, but he'd always put them off. He couldn't even remember their names half the time...why would he even consider shagging them? He had enough to deal with as it was; fucking his fledglings didn't even rate a mild interest. There was only one person he wanted, one person who could calm the storm that raged inside him.
Spike was sprawled across the hood of his car, which was parked near the school. He'd been out hunting with one of the new boys, testing the fledgling's ability. They'd fed on two homeless men and now were "hanging out", for lack of a better term.
Spike leaned back against the windshield and stared up at the stars while Dave? John? Joe? - whatever the fuck his name was - droned on about his glory days as a college football star. *Something interesting better bloody well come along soon, or I'll lose my everlovin' mind.* He sighed, unable to stop the longing running through him. *Slayer, where the fuck are you?*
Laughter rang out as the Scooby Gang strolled home from the Bronze, the two couples walking close together while Buffy kept a watchful eye on the shadows around them. They'd been telling Oz about Xander's infatuation with a praying mantis, making sure to elaborate on every embarrassing detail.
Buffy enjoyed watching Xander squirm; he'd been getting on her nerves a lot lately. She flipped a stake through her fingers as she walked, her mind wandering back to Spike, as it always did, wondering if he thought about her, if he missed her. Shaking her head, she turned back to the conversation with a question.
"Has anyone noticed that Giles is acting strange lately? He just doesn't seem like himself." She was struck by the irony of her statement. Giles wasn't the only one not himself. Well, at least it would give them someone else besides her to wonder about.
Willow's brow furrowed. "I've noticed. Every time I come into the library, he seems so...jumpy. Well, jumpier than usual, anyway." It bothered her, his distant behavior, as if whatever was troubling him had to do with her. She couldn't think of anything that she might have done to make him act this way.
Oz squeezed her hand, seeing the worry on her face. "Maybe there's some new evil on the horizon. That's always a possibility. You know, geographically speaking."
"That would be nice." Willow looked at them guiltily. "Not that I think evil would be nice, 'cause I don't. Evil is bad...I hate evil. But it would be nice to have a simple explanation for Giles' weirdness."
Buffy stiffened. "Well, it looks like evil is going to rear its ugly head anyway. There are vamps up ahead." She nodded toward the school campus, feeling her spider sense creep down her spine. Excitement coursed through her at the prospect of some action.
"Everybody armed?" Without waiting for an answer, Buffy set off for the school, almost skipping with eagerness.
The breeze shifted, sending a familiar scent Spike's way. His game face flickered briefly and his body tensed in anticipation as he waited for her to reach him. He cast a sideways glance at the other vampire, thinking how fortunate it was that he had someone so inexperienced with him. It would be a lot harder to fool Darius, or one of the older minions. As it was, this would be a very interesting confrontation.
"Heads up, mate. We've got company." He nodded in the direction of the corner, expecting to see her any minute now. From the sound of things, she wasn't alone. Spike wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or just another complication.
"Keep the others from interfering. And no matter what happens, stay out of it."
Buffy rounded the corner and stopped short, the sight of him sitting there leaving her breathless. From behind her came a startled squeak as Willow realized who was sitting on the car.
"Buffy! Th-that's Spike!" Willow tugged on her arm, panic stricken. "As in walking-around-no-wheelchair-out-for-revenge Spike!"
Carefully disengaging herself, Buffy tried to calm the hacker. "Relax, Will. Two of them, five of us. And odds are, old Spikey isn't up to his full strength yet." Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, she slowly walked forward, eyes locked on his.
A cocky grin lit up Spike's face. "Well, well, if it isn't the Slayer. Long time no see." *Too fucking long. If I'm not careful, I'll get a bloody hard-on and embarrass myself.* He sat up and slid gracefully off of the car.
Buffy's eyes were drawn to the planes of his face, the hard lines of his body. The tension in her own body increased as she stared at the man she loved. And wanted. Wanted desperately, with a hunger whose force never failed to surprise her.
Time seemed suspended, until another squeak from Willow reminded her that they had an audience. Plastering a derisive smirk on her face, she took a step forward, turning the stake casually in her hands.
"Not long enough, Spike," she said, the heat in her eyes belying her words. "Out of the chair, huh? Guess I'll have to do a better job this time around."
Spike laughed, then answered in a silky purr. "Can't keep a good vampire down, luv. I'm looking forward to you trying, though."
The electricity between them crackled in the night air, but only the two of them knew that it was from desire, not animosity. It was all Buffy could do to keep from flinging herself into his arms and ripping off every stitch of his clothing. Anxious for a distraction, she flicked her gaze toward Spike's companion.
"Cute fledgling. Is he yours?"
"Now, now, Slayer. You know I never bite and tell." He ran his eyes up and down her body, lips quirking up in an insolent smile.
*Son of a bitch! I'm gonna wipe that smirk right off his face!* She knew he needed loyal minions, but it still irritated her. She was supposed to keep him from doing these things and his activities made her feel like a traitor.
The others watched as Slayer and Master vampire traded quips. The two began circling each other, edging away from the group. Spike indicated the stake with a nod of his head.
"Do we really need weapons for this, pet?"
With a feral grin, Buffy tossed the stake aside. "I don't need weapons to kick your ass, Bleach Boy."
Spike laughed sarcastically, moving slowly backward until they were in the middle of the campus lawn. "Oh, I'm scared. You want a piece of me, you'd better come and get it, little girl."
Buffy advanced on him, every muscle coiled tightly and poised to spring. Her body needed release and a fight was almost as good as sex. Almost.
"I've been itching for a good fight all week. Those pathetic vamps you tried to turn weren't much of a challenge."
"Actually, those belonged to Darius. He's quite pissed off at you, by the way. You should know, pet, that when I turn someone, they stay that way." He could see the fire in her eyes and it excited him even more. If he couldn't fuck her, he'd definitely settle for fighting.
Without warning, Buffy spun suddenly, catching him in the face with a perfectly timed kick. His head snapped back, but he recovered quickly, blocking the punch that followed. Grabbing her wrist, Spike tried to pull her close, but she twisted out of his grasp and dropped to the ground, sweeping his legs. He went down hard, rolling away before she could stomp him with her foot. Spike rose fluidly to his feet and they faced off again, sizing each other up for their next move.
The Slayer's friends watched anxiously from the road, crosses in hand, as the two fighters came together in a flurry of kicks and punches, neither one holding anything back. More than two weeks of sexual frustration tried desperately to find an outlet in the violence, but instead of squelching their desire, the fight only served to fan the flames. Each blow was like an electric shock wherever they touched and their bodies unconsciously sought out closer contact, until their fighting was little more than a wrestling match.
Xander watched impatiently from the sidelines. "What the hell is she doing? Why doesn't she stake his undead ass and be done with it?"
He couldn't understand why Buffy was letting Spike get so close. Or why he felt strangely turned on watching them. His eyes followed their every move as he vowed that he'd get past the vamp in front of him and enter the fray himself.
Almost out of control, Spike swept Buffy's legs out from under her and slammed her to the ground, landing between her legs. He stared down into wild eyes that mirrored his own need. He could smell her arousal and his demon edged ever closer to the surface. Pinning her arms above her head, he pressed his painful erection into the junction between her thighs, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips.
"I want to fuck you so badly, Slayer. You have no idea what I've been going through these last couple of weeks." His voice was barely above a growl, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he fought to keep his lust in check.
Buffy gazed up at him hotly, her senses whirling. "Mutual."
With a groan, Spike morphed. Quick as a cobra strike, he nicked her throat with his fangs, neatly lapping up the blood.
The Scooby Gang watched in terror as their friend was pinned helplessly beneath the vampire. Willow screamed as Spike bent his head for what they assumed was a killing blow. As one, they surged forward, ready to stake the fledgling and rush to her aid.
Willow's scream jolted Buffy into action, making her realize that they'd soon be coming to her rescue. "Spike."
He raised his head and looked at her dazedly, licking the blood from his lips.
"Make this look good." She hooked her legs under his and heaved with her lower body, throwing him over her head. She rolled and produced stake from her sleeve, trying to calm her breathing.
Spike leaped to his feet, snarling. "I thought we said no weapons, pet. Buffy smiled. "I lied."
"This isn't over, Slayer. Not by a long shot." He made sure that his voice carried so that the others could hear.
"I'm counting on it not being over, Spike. Now get your ass out of here before I change my mind and turn you into dust." She watched as he backed away, letting him get in his car and drive off. With a heavy sigh, she walked toward her friends, still high from the fight and sexual tension.
Xander pounced as soon as she reached them. "What the hell was that? I can't believe you didn't kill him when you had the chance!" He was so angry with her, he almost couldn't see straight.
"I didn't have the chance, it was a close fight." She didn't want to be here anymore. All she wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, and try to relieve herself, yet again.
Xander grabbed her arm. "Didn't have a chance, my ass! He could have killed you!"
Buffy yanked her arm out of his grasp. "Back off, Xander! That was the best fight I've had in weeks. You have no idea how bored I've been lately. I just needed to let off steam."
Willow reached out and touched Buffy's neck. "You're bleeding, Buffy. He bit you."
Buffy shrugged her off. "It's just a scratch, it's nothing. I'm fine." She looked at the group, unable to take any more of their concern. "I'm going home, okay? I need a shower and some sleep. Do you mind going the rest of the way without me?"
Xander was about to protest when Willow jumped in. She could see how wired Buffy still was, and knew that Xander was about to get royally stomped if she didn't separate them.
"It's fine, Buffy. Go on home. I'll call you tomorrow."
Willow watched as the other girl said a quick goodbye and left, concern furrowing her brow. She wished that there was something she could do, some way to find out what was going on with her friend. With a sigh, she grabbed Oz's hand and turned to go, worried about the friction that seemed to permeate their group lately. She hoped that things would return to normal soon. *Whatever that is.*
Buffy raced home, adrenaline flowing through her as she ran. Her whole body was on fire, throbbing with unreleased passion.
Reaching her house, she climbed through her bedroom window before remembering that her mother was gone for the weekend. Another buying trip. Instead of feeling abandoned, Buffy was relieved. The only person she wanted to see was Spike. He was the only one who could calm the pulsing, burning need that coursed beneath her skin.
Spike swung by the mansion to drop off...Tom? Bill? Steve? *Steve, that's it!* Turning the car around, he drove as fast as inhumanly possible to the Slayer's house. He was done dicking around with playing it safe. He wanted her and he was going to have her- he didn't give a fuck about the consequences. His hard-on had only partially subsided after the fight; now the very thought of her started it surging back to life.
After parking a block away, Spike ran until he found himself standing in her yard. He noted the absence of her mother's jeep, grateful that the woman spent so much time ignoring her daughter. They had two weeks to make up for, and he wouldn't appreciate any interruptions. He quickly climbed the tree and slipped through the open window.
In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Buffy turned to see him standing there and froze for the briefest of seconds before launching herself at him. Spike caught her easily as she wrapped her legs around his waist, their mouths hungrily searching and finding, hands ripping at the clothing that seperated them. The buttons flew from her blouse as he wrenched it open, grabbing and tearing her bra between her breasts. Buffy grasped his t-shirt at the collar and yanked, rending it neatly down the middle.
Will you let the morning come
soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Moans of frenzied lust echoed in the room as bare skin came together, cold against hot. Spike reached under her skirt and shredded the scrap of fabric covering her mound as Buffy frantically undid the fastening on his jeans, releasing him. He turned, slamming her against the wall as he impaled her on his painfully hard cock. The violence of their fight carried over into their lovemaking as all of the aggression poured itself into every thrust of their bodies.
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
"S-P-I-K-E!" Buffy screamed as she felt him pounding into her, her nails clawing furrows down his back, drawing blood.
"FUCK!" As the scent hit him, his face changed, yellow eyes boring into hers. He lowered his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, biting down. Buffy's hands came up to grip his hair, pressing herself farther into his mouth. The orgasm ripped through them at the same time- suddenly, violently- catching them both by surprise.
Buffy sobbed with relief as she felt his cock surge inside her, echoing her own spasms. Spike continued suckling at her breast, lapping at the drops of blood that dripped from the puncture wound. His fingers gripped her ass, bruising her flesh as they leaned against the wall, trembling from the force of their release. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her breast and looked up into her flushed face.
Your favourite slave
Buffy reached up, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. His features melted back into his human visage and he brushed his lips across hers tenderly.
"Slayer..." Uncertainty clouded his face- that, and a reluctance to voice his feelings. Buffy understood, feeling overwhelmed by what had just transpired. She kissed him back, softly at first, then with deepening passion as desire for him flared again.
On shaking legs, Spike carefully eased away from the wall and walked toward the bed, still buried deep inside her. He set her down and slowly removed the rest of her clothing. Yanking off his jeans, he joined Buffy on the bed and began worshipping her with his lips and tongue.
In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here
Everything faded away as they lost themselves in each other. Eyes meeting as fingertips grazed sensitive skin. Whispered words of longing between kisses. Now that their first frenzied coupling was over, they moved with infinite slowness, trying to make every touch last an eternity.
Spike could feel her all around him, enveloped by her scent, her very essence. He belonged to her; she owned him completely and no amount of time spent apart could change that. It was pointless to try to deny it.
Buffy felt him enter her, slowly, teasingly, filling her inch by inch until he was fully sheathed in her warmth. She tasted the salt of his skin- breathed him in- reveling in that musky scent that was his alone.
At that moment, she couldn't imagine anything else, couldn't imagine life beyond this room, this bed - this man, moving inside her with a rhythm as familiar as her own name. Without him, she'd felt as though she would splinter into a million pieces. She needed him to feel whole again...human again.
I'm hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here
Spike looked down at her face, wondering what she saw in him. If she saw something that no one else did. Did his feelings show as plainly as hers did? Could she tell how desperately he needed her? He just wanted to stay inside her forever, surrounded by her softness. Apart from each other, their demons raged and screamed, as though nothing could tame them, two restless spirits searching for peace and only finding it when joined together.
In your room
Your burning eyes
Cause flames to arise
Their passion burned brighter as the friction increased. No longer content to take things slow, their bodies slammed against each other harder and harder as they climbed the peak again. Cries of pleasure pierced the air, punctuated by the sounds of flesh smacking together. Spike laced his fingers in hers, holding Buffy's hands over her head as he drove into her.
Will you let the fire die down
soon
Or will I always be here
She arched against him, taking his cock as deep as it would go. Spike's mouth came down on hers as his body began to shake, signalling his impending release. He thrust hard against her sensitive clit until he felt her start to spasm around him. Growling, he poured his seed into Buffy's hot channel, listening to her repeat his name over and over as she rode her own climax.
Spike tightened his grip on her hands, trying to hold on as he lost all sense of time and space. He felt her squeezing back, saw his own dazed look mirrored in her eyes, and knew then that he never wanted to let go.
Your favourite passion
Your favourite game
Your favourite mirror
Your favorite slave
I'm hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here
She was running through the trees, branches catching at her hair, scratching her arms. Her long dress snagged on the forest's undergrowth. Which way? She had to remember... *Oh please, let this be the right path!* Nothing mattered except finding him; she had to reach him before the others. They would kill him...slowly, painfully. Her love, the other half of her soul.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she looked around desperately, trying to get her bearings. NO! She screamed her frustration. Everything looked the same! Tears streamed down her face. She'd never reach him in time. He was going to die and it was all her fault. *I'm so sorry, my love, please forgive me!* The sense of hopelessness and despair overwhelmed her.
"SPIKE!" Suddenly awake, Buffy frantically reached out for him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Her whole body trembled from the nightmare. It had seemed so real that she almost expected to see the scratches on her arms. Prophecy? Dear God, she hoped not.
"I'm here, luv." He kissed her forehead. "Bad dream?" Her face was wet with tears. He'd just drifted off when she had begun talking in her sleep. In fluent French.
"I was running. They were going to kill you...and I couldn't get there fast enough." Buffy pressed against him as though she were afraid he'd disappear.
"Who's 'they', pet?"
"I-I don't know. I never saw them. I just...knew they were there." The thought of losing him terrified her and she buried her face in his chest, rubbing her cheek against his cool skin.
Spike's arms tightened, his fingers threading through her hair in a comforting motion. Gradually, the shaking ceased and her breathing became regular again.
"You were talking in your sleep. In French. Do you remember?"
Buffy shook her head. "Did I say the cow should touch me from Thursday?"
"What?"
"Never mind. Anyway, I can't speak French. I'm failing French."
Spike shrugged. "Maybe you should have a talk with your teacher, luv. You spoke it well enough a few minutes ago."
"And you understood me? What did I say?"
Spike hesitated. Had she really been dreaming about him? She'd used the word love. Several times. *In for a penny, in for a pound, as Gram always said.*
"You said something about losing your love, your soul - no, the other part of your soul." Her soul? What did that mean? What else had she said? Oh, right.
"You said, 'Je regrette, mon amour, je te prie de me pardonner, s'il te plait- I'm sorry, my love, I beg you, please forgive me'...I think. You were talking so bloody fast, I couldn't catch all of it."
She couldn't believe she'd said those things out loud. She'd referred to Spike as 'her love'. And what was that stuff about her soul? *Maybe my subconcious is reacting to all of the research we've been doing. That must be it, but how could I possibly have been speaking French?*
Buffy ran her hand over his chest. "I didn't know you spoke French."
"Before I met Angelus, I was 'involved' with a French whore. And I spent a lot of time in Europe. You tend to pick stuff up here and there." Her hand was drifting lower, moving across his stomach. Spike stifled a groan as he felt himself growing hard again. "Pet..."
Buffy turned her head and licked his nipple. "What time is it?" she murmured.
Looking over at the clock, Spike swore. "Almost four. I'd better-"
"Don't go." She stared up at him, pleading with her eyes. "Stay with me."
"Slayer..." Leaving her bed was the last thing he wanted to do, but stay all day? In the Slayer's house? Within seconds, the decision was made for him.
A warm hand wrapped itself around his cock and began stroking him. Spike growled as Buffy rubbed her thumb over the slit, lubricating him with his own pre-cum. She quickly straddled him, lowering herself onto his waiting shaft. Her lips found his jugular and her tongue flicked over the sensitive skin as she rode him, bringing him close to the edge.
Spike thrust upward mindlessly, his hands cupping her breasts, pinching the nipples between his fingers. *Christ! She never plays fair...the little minx. Lucky me.*
"SLAYER!" She was squeezing him with her muscles, concentrating only on making him come. He slipped his hand between them, fingering her slippery clit.
"Come with me, love. I need to feel you..." He wanted to feel her come, loved the way she tightened around him when she found her release.
Her breath quickened as she rocked against him, driving the nightmare from her mind the only way she knew how. With his touch.
"Ooooh god, Spike...I lov-" He silenced her with his mouth, absorbing her words as he kissed her. A strangled scream rose in her throat as his expert fingers worked their magic, bringing her to a swift climax. As soon as he felt her convulse, Spike let go, throwing his head back as he released his seed in pulsing spurts.
"AAAAAHHHHH, BUFFFYYY!" His cock continued to twitch as she drained him, pressing down hard on his stomach to keep him inside her.
Nothing could compare to how it felt when he came inside her- that swelling, throbbing sensation as his cool semen flooded her. It made her feel so incredibly good- warm, powerful...loved. In that one brief moment, there was nothing but fire and ice, skin and sweat...the sound of their passion. Complete and utter rapture.
Sighing, Spike kissed her swollen lips before she collapsed against him. "You win, luv. I'll stay."
Free will seemed to drain away in her presence, but at least he knew he wouldn't be restless with her by his side. Now that they were together again, that peaceful calm had settled over him and he wanted to prolong it.
Buffy kissed him softly. "Thank you."
She got up from the bed and went out into the hall to the linen closet to get blankets for the windows. Later, she'd go out and get him some packaged blood. He'd probably complain, but at least he'd have something to eat. Buffy smiled. He was going to spend the day with her. That was all that mattered.
Buffy and Spike had finally drifted off to sleep- mercifully dreamless- and now lay in a tangle of limbs, her hair splayed across his chest. The two lovers slumbered peacefully, cocooned in the warmth and darkness of the room, until a sound invaded the stillness, causing Buffy to groan and roll over.
*What's that noise? The doorbell? Shit!* She eased out of bed carefully, trying not to wake Spike. As she turned to look for her robe, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
"Where are you going?" His eyes were still closed, as if asleep. He'd known the minute she'd moved from his side, coming awake instantly.
"The doorbell's ringing."
"Ignore the bloody thing and come back to bed," he growled, tugging her down on top of him.
Buffy laughed. "I can't, it's probably Willow. She said she'd check on me. I'll talk to her and come right back."
"Ten minutes, or I'm coming after you." Spike released her and watched as she threw on her robe. *Christ, she's so fucking beautiful.*
The bell was still ringing insistently, making him want to break the finger that was responsible. He growled again, bringing more laughter from the Slayer. She blew him a kiss and ran downstairs, opening the door just as Willow was about to give up and walk away.
Willow stared at Buffy's attire. "Oh, Buffy...I woke you. I'm sorry, I thought you'd be up, it's after 10:00..."
"It's okay, Willow. Come on in." Buffy waved her through the door and into the living room.
"I was on my way to the library and I thought I'd see if you wanted to come along."
"Not today. I'm going to stay in bed and be completely decadent." *In more ways than one.* "I think I need to, after last night."
"Buffy, I've never seen you like that before. You were so...you usually just fight, stake 'em and move on. But with Spike, it was like you enjoyed it, like you didn't want to stop." Willow wasn't sure if she was saying it right.
Buffy smiled. "I did enjoy it, Will. There hasn't been anything going on for weeks now and it was great to finally have someone who could last more than two minutes. Sometimes I just have all of this bottled up energy and I need to let it out. I can't do that with Giles, I'd hurt him."
Willow nodded. "I understand, I think. We've just been so worried about you, what with everything that happened with Angel- "
"I know. And I'm sorry for driving you all crazy with the research and everything. I can't explain it, I just know that it's important, somehow."
"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"
"I'm sure. I'd only be in the way." She was up, though, so maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to run out and get Spike something to eat. "I do have an errand to run, though. How about if I walk with you part of the way?"
The redhead smiled. "That would be great."
"Just let me throw some clothes on."
Buffy ran upstairs to her room. She stopped and stared at the lean, naked body sprawled across her bed, her eyes following the play of muscles in his back as he stretched. *God, he's incredible, I could look at him all day.* She shook her head. *Clothes, get dressed, Willow's waiting.*
"Spike?" She watched as he rolled over and opened one eye.
"Get back into bed, Slayer."
"Are you hungry?" She made sure not to get too close. If he touched her, she'd never leave.
"Hungry for you. Take that bloody thing off and get over here." He opened his other eye, piercing her with his gaze. "Now."
"Spike, I'm serious. I should go and get you something to eat. I'm up anyway and it'll only take a few minutes."
He sighed dramatically. She was right, he WAS hungry. "Well, I suppose it's only fair, since you made me work up an appetite. Go to Willy's, he's got the best stock. And I want human, not swine. Pig's blood may have been good enough for Brood Boy, but it's not my cup of tea."
Buffy glared at him. "Anything else, Mr. Bossy?"
Spike grinned. "Yeah, come here and kiss me proper."
Against her better judgement, Buffy walked to the bed, yelping when he grabbed her and pulled her down beside him. Their tongues battled ferociously for a moment, before she tore herself away, gasping.
"I have to go, Willow's waiting."
"You know, pet, maybe you should take a shower first so that you don't have every dog in the neighborhood following you- like in that Stone Temple Pilots song." At her questioning look, he explained. "You smell like you've been shagging six ways from Sunday. Which you have." He laughed at her red face. "Of course, if I had my way, you'd never wash."
Buffy smacked him. "Eeeewwwww! I'll go tell Willow to wait a few more minutes." She hurried to tell the hacker she was jumping into the shower and ran for the bathroom.