* * * * * Chapter 16: Revelation * * * * *





Spike pulls back a bit, his soft lips leaving my neck, and he tries to meet my eyes. I look down. If possible, I feel more naked now than he is. Not at all true to Buffy form to blurt out such statements. My thoughts dart around in my head, desperately looking for reason, for any reason in what I said. The only one I can find is that I meant it. I just didn’t mean to say it, swear it like a solemn oath. I, Buffy, trust Spike. Like a vow. A promise. The reality of my feelings for Spike are multiplied by this realization and the weight of them is nearly paralyzing.

The silence in the room as I perform my self-examination is starting to get weird. I muster up my courage and lift my eyes, looking at him through my lashes first and finally straight into those bluest of blues. I try to read what I see in their depths, but it is confusing. I see that my statement has rattled him. Big time. There is undeniably love there, also worry, gratitude and pure unadulterated fear. Fear? Seeing so much fear in Spike’s eyes is unsettling to say the least. My eyes shift back and forth, studying his. Also, he’s not talking, which I find even more unsettling. Then, it hits me. How could I be so stupid? He’s afraid because I doubt he fully trusts himself. Nobody trusts vampires, he knows this. I’ve come to him for help, counted on him to protect Dawn, but he knows I’ve never really trusted him. And by the look in his eyes, the idea of him failing me, of betraying that trust is enormous and terrifying.

But maybe there’s something else, too. I’m no mind-reader and I have to calm his fears somehow. His arms have dropped away from mine. I shrug the rest of the way out of my shirt and I sit there, fully exposed, wide open to him. He seems unsure of what to do. I reach up to his temple, brushing my fingers there and into his curled up hair. So much nicer loose like this, free. He won’t meet my eyes, so I try another route.

"I didn’t mean to scare you, Spike." I take one of his hands in mine and press our palms together. He barely reciprocates as his eyes dart away. "What’s wrong?" I’m sure this is the first time Spike and I have ever been in bed, completely naked and...talking. Wonders never cease. He straightens up and we face each other.

"Buffy, I have to tell you something." His eyes meet mine briefly, but then drop away again. I still see fear and I don’t like it. Where’s my Spike, who never would have allowed me to say that I scared him? Would have denied it big time? "You won’t like it, I’ll wager. But there are extenuating circumstances, so please, luv, don’t jump to conclusions." My heart is starting to pump and I’m getting a queasy feeling in my stomach. What is going on?

He takes a very deep, yet completely unneeded breath. He acts so human I forget he no longer is.

"The chip is gone."

Wham. Like I was hit with a sack of hammers, I am knocked flat, completely struck dumb. Without really thinking, I pull back, begin to scramble away from him, a parade of emotions plowing through me. No chip? Is this the old Spike then? Is this what seems different about him? Is he back to kill Buffy and her friends, like old times? Oh God. My throat goes dry at this thought. Have I lost him? My mouth opens and closes, searching for words, searching for reason. He takes my hand in his, but I pull it back. Anger decides to step forward, as it often does in our relationship.

"That is why you left me alone for two months?? To get your CHIP out?!" My voice pitches higher. "But why, Spike, why??"

His anger rises to meet mine like an old sparring partner. "Bloody hell, Slayer! ‘S not why I left, not what I was trying to do, it just...happened."

"It just HAPPENED!?" I’m starting to lose control and also be very aware of my nakedness. Hot tears are threatening to course down my cheeks at any second. I begin to struggle to my feet. I have to get out of here. He takes a hold of both my wrists. My eyes meet his, sparks flashing. "Let g-"

"Buffy. Wait." I squirm. His eyes are pleading and his anger is already dissipating. Very unlike Spike. I know I can bust out of his grasp, but there’s a large part of me that desperately wants to stay, to hear his explanation, to hope I can believe it. I struggle in a purely token fashion and look at him expectantly. He look slightly surprised that I’ve tacitly decided to listen. I’ve changed too.

"Luv, it’s not like you think, okay? Didn’t ask to have the chip removed, but it’s gone. I went to see some mystical types in L.A. and this was one result." I’m skeptical. Why would some magic bigwig just zap Spike’s chip? To what end? His words raise more questions than they answer for me.

"Buffy, believe me." My eyebrows are scrunched up as I look at him. He gives my wrists a gentle shake. His eyes plunge into mine and I feel myself get a major jelly belly. He speaks slowly and deliberately. "Believe me." I really want to. "I haven’t had the chip in weeks. Haven’t hunted or fed on any humans. Don’t intend to. I think you knew before I left that I’ve buried that part of me. Can’t be the man you want if I’m out hunting defenseless humans for snacks, now can I?"

I finally find my voice again. "Spike, it can’t be all about what I want. What if I piss you off - are you going to take that out on an innocent? I mean, hello, you’re a vampire!" He sighs. Here we go again.

"There’s more to it than that, Buffy. I don’t want to anymore."

"Don’t want to what?"

"Kill humans. Sure, still want the blood, but I’ve lost my taste for the kill. Rather protect them like I’m some damn Scooby." I sit and try to process what he’s saying. Is it even possible for a vampire to not want to kill humans? After a few moments of tense silence, he speaks again, quietly. "Did you mean it, luv?" He seems very subdued. "Did you?"

"Did I mean what, Spike?" I’m exasperated and upset. I wanted to see Spike, fall back into his arms, not worry about him without a chip. Nothing goes to plan in Sunnydale, I should know that by now.

"Do you trust me?" Oh. Did I mean that...I did. God help me, I did. It was right there in my head, carved in stone like a truth of the ages. One I hadn’t noticed before. My anger begins to fade, forced out by my love for him. Love. Huh. Still takes some getting used to, though I’ve told the world, well, my world, anyway. He takes my hesitation the wrong way and this time, he begins to pull away. I do the only thing I can.

"Yes." He stops. Looks at me with a little less fear, a bit more wonder.

"Without the chip?" He braces himself, waiting for the blow that never comes.

"I hope I never regret this, Spike. But yes. With the chip, without the chip, I trust you. I think I have to."

He cocks his head. "You have to? What d’ you mean, pet?"

"I can’t be with you like this anymore, " I gesture between us, reminding us both of our unclothed state. "if I don’t trust you. And I....I can’t NOT be with you like this. If there’s anything I learned in two months, it’s that I can’t NOT be with you. Nearly killed me." I try to stay somewhat matter-of-fact, but my emotions betray me. Tears trickle down my cheeks. He smiles at me, brushes the tears away with his thumbs. I smile back. We are like two goofy lovesick teenagers, only I’m the Slayer and he’s a more than a century-old vampire. Close enough.

"Feel the same way, pet. Kills me to be away from you." I keep smiling, basking in his words like a cat in the sunlight.

I reach up and touch his head where I imagine the chip was, allowing myself to run my fingers through his bleached locks. "What does it feel like? To not have the chip?"

"Must admit, not that different. Couldn’t hurt humans before and now I just don’t anyway. There’s still a demon inside me that wants to kill and feed. Difference is, I’m stronger than it, stronger than that hunger now. Besides, I find that other less-deadly activities hold plenty of appeal." He leers at me suggestively and I have to laugh. I love being with him. I know the Slayer should never laugh when bloodlust is the subject, but I can’t help myself. Plain old lust kicks bloodlust in the ass. Yay, lust! I giggle, feeling naughty and happy and all tangled up in him. Trusting Spike. This is new for me, but it fits. I’ve got millions of questions. I know I should ask more about how the chip was removed and by who, plus what else happened, but it sounds like research and I’m not in the mood for research mode. We can talk more later. Spike’s back and right this very second, I only have one question for him.

"Spike?"

"Yes, luv?"

"You’re not leaving again, right?"

"D’you want me to?"

I smile. "No."

"Good, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere." I squeeze his hands in mine, a grin spreading across my face. Wow, I can hear myself telling the gang now: ‘So, remember how I told you I loved Spike, the vampire that has tried to kill us all repeatedly? Well, he’s back, he’s got no chip, and I still love him, how ‘bout that?’ Should go over real well.

* * * * * Chapter 17: Truth Telling * * * * *

Spike’s crypt, 7:30 a.m.

We pick up where we left off. I decide to shut my brain off for once and just enjoy this moment. And only this moment. Yes, Spike is back. Spike has no chip. And Spike appears to be a little different, but change is good, right? Questions, questions...why did he go to L.A.? Hmm, L.A., don’t suppose he talked to...

"Angel!"

"Oi, luv! Rather you not scream his name when I’m in bed with you, eh?" Spike straightens up suddenly and I am so sorry I distracted him. He was doing such an interesting thing with his tongue. I have GOT to stop blurting things out.

"No, no... I’m sorry, Spike. It’s not like that. I just...well, I just realized that you went to L.A. Which naturally leads me to...well, y’know."

Spike shakes his head. He and I both know my idea of ‘not thinking, just doing’ is turning into a flop. Might as well just have the ‘talk’. He cocks his head to the side and studies me for a minute. "Buffy, luv? If we’re going to talk now, you’d better cover up. Too bloody distracting like this." He gestures at my naked body and I can’t help but blush.

I pull the sheet up and cover my breasts. "You too, Spike." I smile at him. He is still not used to my flirtation, my willingness to engage in playfulness with him. ‘Course I haven’t mentioned the L word in our brief chats yet... He slips under the sheet too. His leg brushes mine and I get that warm feeling down low. Yum. Buffy! Talk, must talk. Talk is important. Talk is good.

We both lie down, facing each other, propped on our elbows. The proximity to his lips is a bit distracting, but I’ll manage. For now.

"You’re right, Buffy."

"I am? I knew it." I pause. "About what, exactly?"

"Saw the poof in L.A."

"You did! You did? Um, forgive me for being on the thick side, but don’t you pretty much hate his guts?"

"Oh hell, yes." Spike grits his teeth a bit at the thought.

"So, not a social call, I take it?"

"No, definitely not." Spike hesitates and I see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

I wonder where this is going. Definitely not just a friendly visit between those two. Spike would never willingly go to Angel, unless he needed something he couldn’t get anywhere else. And what would Angel have that no one else could.... "oh."

"Oh?" He looks at me curiously.

The lights have just clicked on. Acting different. Went away to ‘better himself’. Saw Angel. Angel, the vampire with a... "soul. You went to him about a soul??" Despite reaching this conclusion on my own, I am still fairly shocked. And so is Spike.

He recovers fairly quickly, "I...did."

My mind boggles at the thought. Spike? William the Bloody...seeking a soul? After all his derision of Angel and his brooding and his do-gooder ways. This is all so weird. I’m having trouble formulating a question. So, I go for the obvious. "Did you get one?"

Spike laughs, shortly. "Oh, Buffy. This is one of the things I love about you. Right to the bloody point." He brushes the hair out of my eyes, lets his fingers linger on my cheek for a moment. "The truth of the matter is...no. I didn’t. I tried. Tried really bleedin’ hard...but I am still the same old Spike." That tinge of fear is back in his eyes. It’s almost like he expects the party to end soon, and that he won’t be invited back. He is trying to hold onto every moment. What is he scared of? He looks so tired. I’ve just noticed. What has he been through in these two months?

"You...you don’t seem the same to me, Spike." I don’t know how I feel about this news. Would Spike with a soul be better? I thought I couldn’t love him without it, but I was so very very wrong. So far to the wrong. Am I...relieved that he didn’t get the soul? Would it change him too much? God, this is so confusing. "You seem...like you’ve...suffered. Have you?" I reach over and take his free hand in my own. Again, my tenderness is throwing him. He is having as much trouble as I am finding the right words.

"Not nearly enough, Buffy. Not nearly enough." He shakes his head. This conversation could not get any more strange. First off, we rarely talk this long. And second, he’s acting so un-Spike. Almost like he feels guilty or something. Another unfamiliar behavior.

"Okay, I’m confused. Let’s just stop this conversation now before it gets more on the wacky track. What exactly happened to you? Start from the beginning." He looks at me, unsure. "Please?" I squeeze his hand. He nods, takes another one of those deep breaths that I find somehow charming. We both sit up and face each other on the bed. I cover myself with the sheet as requested, smirking a little at him as I do.

"Alright then. You know the beginning, I left that morning after I wrote you the letter, after that night with you. I want you to know, Buffy, I never wanted to leave you. Never. I just wanted you to love me the way I loved you. And once you admitted you couldn’t, I had to leave. Had to try something, anything. Believe me, I never wanted to visit the mighty poofter, but every place I turned in L.A. led me back to him. So, I swallowed my soddin’ pride and went to him."

I want to interrupt and tell him how I feel, but I’ve just had another revelation which totally sidetracks me. "Oh, Spike. Wait a minute. Spike! Was there karaoke??!"

"Wha-? How the...when did you... did he TELL you?"

"There WAS karaoke! You sang?! What kind of twisted game was Angel playing at?"

"Uh, he’s got a demon friend who can read your mind and heart while you sing. But how the hell did you know about it? Thought you didn’t know where I was?" Spike is genuinely confused.

"Well, I didn’t know it was you. I just now put two and two together. I called Angel to...talk to him and he acted really weird. He was even less talkative than usual. And I heard karaoke music in the background. Holy crap. You were there?"

"Yeah, I was there. He didn’t tell me you called, ‘course. Wanker can’t be THAT helpful... Anyway, Lorne, the demon, he read me when I sang. Also offered me a job, but that’s another story. So, the poof let him help me. Didn’t much like the idea of me loving you or wanting a soul, but I have to give him credit. He still helped. Plus he threatened to kill me, but I’ve grown used to that."

My eyes are just about bugging out of my face. This story is already mind-blowing and I get the feeling we’re just getting started...

"So, then, Lorne and I head out to look for this bird he knows. Lorne’s a good bloke, don’t know why he’s friends with Angelus, but sometimes there’s no accounting for taste. We find this...don’t know what, not human, but her name was Ka’jiin. Says she can hook me up with the Powers that Be. She does some chanting and poof, I’m somewhere else. And I don’t mean somewhere else in L.A. I mean, somewhere ELSE. Total other world, alternate universe, something." He stops as he sees a new reaction on my face.

"That explains it," I whisper. I look down, working out the details in my head. That would be just about right...I look up when I realize Spike is waiting for me to continue. He looks at me quizzically. "I...uh..well, I asked Willow and Tara to find you. With magicks." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"You were looking for me? And the witches helped?" For someone who is not easily stunned, I am doing a bang-up job on Spike tonight.

"Of course, Spike. I missed you. I...mentioned that. I was getting worried, so I convinced them to do a locating spell. Figured I could bail your butt out if necessary and bring you back." I smirk at him and he allows my comment to pass. "Only...they didn’t find any trace of you. Nothing." I study my hands for a few seconds. Even though I know it’s not true, I remember the feeling. The throbbing emptiness I felt when I thought Spike was gone. Dust. I feel drops hit my hands and I realize I’m crying. I look back up at him, eyes shining. "I thought that was it, Spike. Thought you were gone for good." His eyes are gentle, probing the emotion in mine, a bit wondering at this Buffy, I bet. Not the same girl he left.

"I’m right here, Buffy. See?" He takes my hand and presses it, palm flat onto his chest. The silken skin cools me. "Like I said, not going anywhere."

"I...I know. Just, that night, I was...it was bad. But then Willow came to me and she did another spell. Don’t tell anyone, but she tapped into something dark, I think. She kinda projected me, y’know, astrally? Sent me looking for you. And I found you. Only for a second. I wasn’t even sure what happened, but Will explained it. Said you were somewhere otherworldly, but that you were still alive...or er, undead. "

"Buffy, you could have been lost forever. Did you know that?"

"Yes."

"Yes? And? Why would you take such a risk?"

"It was killing me not to know...when they told me they couldn’t find you..." I look away, off into the darkness before snapping my eyes back to his. "I just had to know. And hey, I’m the Slayer. Danger is my middle name. Also, Anne."

Another smile pulls at his mouth. He is just delicious. "I felt you. I thought it was a dream, Buffy. But still, it kept me going, luv."

I lean forward and gently brush my lips against his. The motion is almost involuntary. His lips demanded kissing. "So, what happened after you got zapped to another world?"

"Quite a lot, actually....let’s see, first there was this little girl..."



 

* * * * * Chapter 18: Atonement * * * * *



Spike’s crypt, 10 a.m.



I can’t believe what I am hearing. Spike tries to gloss over details in his story, to spare me pain or him, I can’t tell. I pry them out of him. I have to know it all. Every last painful detail. If someone is going to suffer this much for me, I should have to hear it. To try and feel some of it. He tells me about protecting Sarah and I am moved. Just like he looks after Dawn.

But the story of his past victims. Of how they tortured and beat him and....I shudder. I know he did unspeakable things to them and he deserved retribution, but I still can’t believe he was able to take on that much punishment and survive. They punished the man when I know the demon was responsible for their deaths. Spike is clearly still wracked with guilt from these encounters. Guilt. Without a soul. It is only one thing I don’t understand out of countless details. I hate to see him suffer, but I also know he has to work through it. It is this process that will separate him from his past. Only now do I see the web of faint scars on his body.

I reach out and touch one as his tale winds down. He flinches, not from pain but from my sudden touch, sudden warmth. Telling this tale has left him raw, exposed like a live wire. Every sensation, every emotion, every memory is heightened to the point of pain. We are both crying at this point, tears flowing absently. I continue to trace the scars on his perfect body, one after the other. My fingers trying to undo the violence that caused them. I can almost feel the memory of each scar as I trace it, the violent tearing of skin, Spike’s borrowed blood welling up there. I hate the thought of it. He cannot resist my touch, cannot pull away. I make my attempt to reverse time, to take away these marks of his past. But of course, they remain.

I take his left hand in mine and turn the palm over. I uncover a scar where someone sliced open his hand. I trail my index finger the length of it. I can feel him twitch. I look up, "Does that hurt, Spike?"

He whispers back, "No, luv. It’s okay." I return to my solemn duty, taking his right hand and finding a matching slice on that palm. As I touch this scar, I have a flash of last year, just before I died. In the Winnebago, Spike saved my life - not for the first time - when he grabbed the sword of one of those wacko knights right before it stabbed me. His hands were sliced open when the knight pulled the blade free. He did that for me and I never even thanked him. It is memories like this that are forming a twisting knot of remorse in my gut. Things with Spike could have been so much better so much sooner. I lean down slowly and kiss the scar on his palm, saying softly, "I’m sorry."

"For what, Buffy?" Naturally, Spike’s confused; he’s no mind-reader.

"Lots of things, Spike. Lots of things." Seems only fair. He’s been forced to repent his sins. I should do the same.

"I’m sorry for not seeing the good you have been doing. For not recognizing how much you’ve changed. I’m sorry you are never thanked for your hard work, never invited to sit down and join us, never made to feel welcome. Sorry for being a bitch to you whenever the mood strikes me." I smile wryly at this and he can’t help but smile back. "For never defending you to my friends. I’m sorry you had to leave, sorry you suffered so much and sorry you had to go through it alone. Spike, I’m sorry for more things than I can count, more than I can say. Maybe over time, I can just show you."

Spike stares at me. This is very nearly the most I’ve ever said to him at one time. Certainly the most revealing and kind things I’ve ever said. He opens his mouth to respond but apparently finds words inadequate. He reaches out with one hand and slides the fingers through the hair that frames my face. I’ve never understood how those hands can be so very gentle. His gesture is so intimate, so careful. Since he’s come back, he acts like he’s afraid to move too suddenly, too sharply, like he’ll pop this bubble we’re in and it will all turn out to be a dream. That’s the way I feel, too. Inside this dark crypt, my world is simple. His love for me is of the good and there are no distractions to feeling it wash over me. I feel safe. He cocks his head, examining my face. It feels like he is trying to learn every bit of it, like I’m a mirage that will soon turn to vapor in his hands. But I’m not. I’m very real and I really really want him.

"Spike."

"Luv?" His blue eyes are penetrating.

"I still want to know the rest of what happened, but can we finish this conversation after?"

"After what?"

"This." And I tackle him. I take him completely off-guard and he ends up on his back beneath me, my legs straddling his waist. Good old Slayer skills, useful in so many household situations. Surprised, he tries to move slightly and I squeeze tighter with my thighs, shaking my head at him. He stills, staring at me with wonder.

He starts to talk, "Buf-" but I bring my finger to my lips to shush him.

"No, please. Let me do the talking for awhile." Time to show Spike how I’ve changed during his absence. No more pretending I don’t want him, that I don’t feel him every minute of every day on my skin. No more using him with no thought for his feelings. I liked to pretend before that it didn’t matter what I did because he was Spike. Just Spike, an evil, bloodsucking vampire. I pretended not to notice when he saved my life, when he protected my sister, when he fought night after night by our sides.

Well, I’m noticing now.

Noticing the moonlit quality of his skin against my bronze. Noticing the way his bottom lip is just begging to be kissed. Yum. I reach down and touch his skin. He quivers a bit as I run my finger down the strong column of his neck. I lean down and let my tongue follow the same path, very, very slowly, ending in a kiss against his jugular. He twitches and I hear a low rumble in his throat. His hands snake up around my hips, pressing fingers into soft flesh, willing me to continue. I pull my head back and then repeat the action on the other side of his neck. His fingers press deeper.

"You like that, Spike?" I whisper in his ear. "Should I continue?"

"Hell yes." I snatch his earlobe in my teeth and nibble lightly before tracing the edge of his ear with my hot tongue. "Jesus, luv." I let both my hands slide into his platinum locks. I take a firm grip of his hair.

"Spike. Look at me." His eyes, which had slipped closed, open slowly. God, I could drown in those pools. I regain some of my composure and stare steadily at him. I squeeze my thighs together around his waist and my hands in his hair. His eyes snap to alertness. "Did I mention how much I missed you?" The tinge of fear in his eyes fades to mirth and I am treated to a devastating smile.

"See, I missed that smile." I smile in response and lean forward to touch my lips to his briefly. "And, ooh, these lips..." I start to pull back but I have to go back for seconds. We kiss hungrily, tongues diving and tangling. I finally pull back, slightly breathless.

"Also, I missed these ears..." My tongue swipes down the edge of each ear, suckling the lobes.

"Oh, and this hair. This bleached out hair. Missed it." My hands slide through the curls, mussing it just the way I like it.

"I missed these eyes, these cheekbones, this nose." I stroke the bones of his face with my thumbs, following with my lips.

"Mmm, this neck. I missed this." I bite my way down his neck and I feel his grasp on my hips tighten and perhaps, his control start to slip. He growls.

"And damn, did I ever miss that growl." I snap up and bite his bottom lip, holding it between my teeth for a second. Spike’s eyes are widened in surprise and darkened by extreme arousal. I was right, he’s starting to lose it. His fingers are clutching my hips so tightly, I know there will be ten little bruises in the morning.

"Cor, pet...I...don’t think..."

"Shhhhh, " I press one finger to his mouth. "Don’t think, just listen. I’m trying to tell you something and I don’t like to be interrupted. You know that. Now where was I? Oh yes, I hate to leave this neck but there’s so much more. I missed these shoulders." I kiss each one.

"And these arms." I grab his left arm, releasing its grip on my hip. "I mean, look at this arm. Honestly." The skin glows silver in the dim light of the crypt. The sharp shadows outline the muscles of his arm as I drag my hand the length of it. I reach his hand.

"And Spike, I can’t begin to tell you how I missed these hands." I kiss the palm. "So strong and supple. But more to the point, I know what they can do to me." I turn his hand over, maintaining eye contact the entire time. I bring his hand closer, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I twist around it with my tongue before pulling it back out slowly. Spike’s mouth is hanging open. "These hands can make me quiver." I take the index finger next, slowly drawing the entire length into my mouth. I suck gently on it before pulling it back out. My smirk is positively evil. Spike closes his mouth and swallows hard. "These hands can make me cry for mercy..." I take the middle finger in one slow swallow, sliding my teeth along as I withdraw it. "They can make me scream." I look at him through my lashes. By the time I am done sucking on his fingers, his eyes have turned storm cloud dark.

"And, oh my, this chest. Mmm." I splay my hands on his chest, gently caressing his ripped muscles, grazing his nipples and eliciting a pleasured gasp, on my way down to his incredible..."Abs. I mean, honestly. How can these be more sexy? Rhetorical question, Spike. Shh. I just want to...well, I think you’re getting the idea." Reaching his abs brings my hands in very close contact to my own dripping wetness where I’ve straddled him. I run my index finger up my slit and it comes out glistening.

"Wanna taste, Spike?" With a growl, Spike bolts up and grabs my hand, holding it motionless in the air. I am shocked and aroused and loving every second. He takes my finger and gives me a taste of my own medicine, so to speak, only he does the actual tasting. My index finger slides between his lips and I feel his cool tongue bathe it, licking off my juices. I shudder, feeling a spark of electricity below my waist. As my finger is pulled from his lips in slow motion, I find myself watching, my mouth slightly agape, as he licks his lips.

After a few seconds of mesmerization, I remember that I am supposed to be in charge. Showing Spike how I feel about him. Right. Yeah. I am starting to sweat in his presence, tiny beads slipping down my back. I tilt forward, pressing my hands into his shoulders to hold him to the bed. I press my lips to his, I can still taste something musky, which must be me. I talk into his mouth, my hazels locked on his dark blues, "I wasn’t done yet, Spike. You interrupted my little journey. I also missed..." Without warning but with full use of my innate Slayer speed, I lift my hips, slide back and slam back down on his fully erect cock, impaling myself in the process. We both moan and scream all at once at the incredible and sudden sensation. I am filled to the hilt. Spike is once again driven senseless by my behavior. I’ve never released his eyes and the parade of emotions that flit across their landscape turn me to jelly. I am reluctant to move at first. "I missed this too, Spike. I missed feeling you inside me, knowing you were as close to me as possible. Feeling my heart beat on your chest, my breath on your skin. Being in you, you being in me. Didn’t know how right it felt ‘til you were gone." I feel tears tickling my eyes. Can’t believe how much I’m crying lately. "I’m sorry for that too."

"Buffy?" Spike’s voice is fractured. I realize how tight the muscles are in his neck, his arms, even his abs are contracted.

"Should I move now?"

He nods.

"Getting ready to lose it?"

Another nod.

"You realize the moving won’t actually help with that, right?"

He nods again.

"Don’t care, right?"

"Right." His voice is stretched thin. A normal man would have exploded awhile ago. That’s why I’ve got Spike. I gingerly lift my hips, letting him about halfway out before dropping back sharply. I repeat the motion time after time, my pace relentless. He gasps over and over, clutching at me like a man drowning. His cool hands sizzle against my super-heated skin. I angle my hips so every thrust pounds against my swollen clit. My own sighs of pleasure echo in the dark crypt.

As I feel the moment growing, I smile at him, taking a second to kiss his lips. He matches my smile right before he bellows like a madman. I feel him tense up and the whole world screeches to a halt as his cool seed fills me. I twist my clit and collapse under the shockwaves that rock me from navel to knees. I bonelessly slide down onto his chest, my head resting right upon his unbeating heart. I plant a kiss on the silent spot. I mutter in my near-sleep, "Missed this too..." as his taut arms wrap around my back and hold me to him.



* * * * * Chapter 19: Insatiable * * * * *

Spike’s Crypt, early afternoon



I stumble out of sleep, smiling a sly, satisfied smile. Mmm, that was the best dream I’ve had....oh God, again with the subconscious confusion. Not a dream at all. It’s such a pain my Slayer skills do not extend to a more alert morning Buffy. My cheek is still pressed into Spike’s chest. I can’t tell if he’s awake without moving and I’m reluctant to...what if my moving causes it all to end? Get a grip, Buffy. Reality here. Moving can’t cause him to go poof, unless I had a stake right on his heart, which I don’t...and rambling now. Just move. I lift my head a bit and I feel him stir ever so slightly. Without the telltale breathing changes, it’s impossible to tell when he is asleep or awake. I push myself up and look on his face. My mind struggles to catch up as my eyes drink in the sight in front of me. So much has changed in the last few hours. And there he is, his face unlined, at rest. He is incredibly beautiful to me. I better not ever call him that, might insult his manliness. But God, how can I be expected to stand looking at those lips without kissing them. Whoops, guess I can’t.

"Mmm, luv. One of my favorite ways to wake up." Spike snatches me around the waist and rolls me over. He presses his lips to mine, harder. Not the only thing getting harder. I squirm a little to confirm that Spike’s mouth is not the only part of him fully alert. He moans deep in his chest.

I pull back from his kiss briefly, widening my eyes in pretend innocence. "Well, better get going. I can see I’ve disturbed your beauty rest." I squeak a little when he growls. "No? Don’t want me to go?" I smile at him.

"You’re not going anywhere, ducks. I’ve got plans. Schemes. Evil plots. And you are the subject of all of them." He snaps at my lip, tugging the bottom one into his mouth. As it slips out again, he looks at me. Those blue eyes never get old. They just blaze a trail into me. "You game? I know that vampire stamina may be a bit too much for such a sweet young thing like yourself...." He loves to bait me, dare me, tease me. I give it back in spades.

"Perhaps you’ve heard of me, Spike? Vampire Slayer? Anything you can do, I can do better. Longer. Harder." My smirk is matched my his.

"I say we should test that theory, luv."

"Bring it on, blondie." And yum, he does. After kissing me ‘til my lips throb, he slides down my body, visiting some favorite places, but clearly one track in his thinking. I wiggle around, hardly able to contain myself. I just want to burst out of my skin, spontaneously combust, something. Spike’s cool hands are the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames, I’m sure of it. They slide around my waist and then around my back. He lifts my ass with them, raising me to his soft, soft lips. I throw my head back as his lips gently kiss the inside of one thigh, then the other. Heat is issuing from me in waves. He touches his slick cool tongue to my slit and tastes me. I whimper slightly and he lifts his head., cocking that eyebrow at me.

"Want I should stop, luv? Need a break?"

I bite my lip and shake my head. Words have escaped me. A common effect of his tongue, I’ve noticed. Magic tongue. Should ask Giles...no, better not. Can only imagine that conversation. ‘So, Giles. How’s London? Spike does this thing with his tongue...I’m sure magical forces are involved...’ Nah. Oh oh oh. The tongue is at work, shut UP, Buffy. I look down to see his blond head between my legs right before I gasp out loud. For the first time, but not the last. His mouth is working overtime. I can feel the path of his tongue over and over, his pressure on my clit seems constant. I start to breathe harder as he hits the right rhythm. I feel my feet go numb. As the sensation creeps up my body, I start to cry out. Finally, with one furious drive, Spike flings me over the edge. I howl in pleasure. Just as the ripples are starting to dissipate, I taste Spike’s lips on mine. My eyes open sleepily to his glinting ones.

"Not getting tired already, luv?" He kisses my cheeks, my chin and starts to work his way down my neck. I moan and work on an answer to his question. The difficulty of stringing words into sentences is incredible.

"No. Not tired." There, that was eloquent. He sure does bring out my talkative side.

"Good, good." With that, I feel his fingers slide into me. I shimmy up the bed, trying to escape the intense sensation, bordering on pain. The nerve endings are raw from my recent orgasm. I take deep breaths, trying to relax into it. It starts to work as his fingers slide effortlessly in and out of me, dripping. I move with him, anticipating the feeling of fullness. But his fingers are not enough, now that I am not out of my head, I want more. I think I can manage to say that.

"More, Spike." There.

"More, pet? What do you mean?" He knows damn well what I mean. His thumb slides up to press on my clit with every thrust of his fingers. I feel a third slide in. "Like this?"

I nod because it really does feel amazing, but then shake my head. "More of you. Want you."

"Cor, I love driving you nearly speechless, Buffy. Your wish, my command." His fingers withdraw and I emit a low whine. "Is this what you want, darling?" His head is brushing against my entrance. I try to slide onto his hard cock, but he holds my shoulders. "Is it?"

I nod furiously. What, he wants me to talk again? "Yes, dammit. Spike, I want you inside me. Now." My low voice, nearly a growl, gets his attention. My eyes are blazing.

"That’s my girl, one that knows what she bloody well wants." He slides into me slowly, tantalizingly slow. I feel every centimeter of him pulsing inside me. Finally, he is fully enveloped and I shudder in extreme contentment. He is like a missing piece of me that I’ve finally reclaimed. Spike is studying my expression very curiously. I don’t know what my face is telling him, but I am not hiding anything. My whole range of emotions are on display in this wholly unguarded moment. He squints at me a little, as if he is trying to make out something in the distance, only I’m right in front of him. His scrutiny makes me nervous. I wrap my legs around his back and squeeze, pushing him deeper than I thought possible.

This gets his attention.

His eyes widen slightly as his focus leaves my face and seems to go back to the electricity coursing through him, through us. I release him from my grip and he starts to slide out and then back in, slowly. I want to curse at him, go faster, go harder, but I know what he is doing. He is drawing us both deeper into this moment, letting the physical sensations be fully wed to the emotions edging right to the surface. I feel my control slipping as he works in and out of me, increasing the pace and the force in the smallest increments. I join him, matching every thrust so we are meeting in the middle. Equals. It’s just like a battle, only more tender, less with the trying to kill each other. He kisses my lips, my neck, my shoulder, never losing the rhythm. I constantly search for his eyes - any time he leans away to kiss a part of me, I feel cold. I want the blue fire in them.

Finally, as we both feel the inevitable building, our eyes lock. I whisper his name as the hum of my body threatens to drown out conscious thought, willing him to not leave me, not to look away. There is a tenderness infused in that one syllable, a true intimacy. He is frozen in the moment. I know our bodies continue their ruthless pace, but everything else seems like slow motion. He opens his mouth to say something to me, but just then the climax hits us both, as if scripted. We’ve never had a moment quite like it. I scream like never before, full of pent-up fear and love, worry and passion. I wail like a banshee as his deep roar shakes the bed. As we start to come down, I find I can’t stop. I moan and cry and clutch for him. I am sobbing so hard I hiccup and my chest heaves. In between sobs, I realize Spike’s face is near mine, concern in those sweet blue eyes. I try to smile, kissing his lips in an attempt to allay his fears.

"Buffy? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

I hiccup again, calming down a bit more. "No, no, Spike. It was...I just felt so much. I started to lose control and...I...it all came to the surface." I stroke his cheek lightly. I whisper the next part, "I thought for awhile there I would never find you again, never see you, never feel you again.. And now, here you are, flesh and blood." I’m still shaking. I can’t believe the words that are just flowing out of me like water.

"Bloody hell, pet. I promised to come back. I’m sorry. I...didn’t even let myself believe you would miss me, to tell you the truth." He takes one thumb, brushes the tears off both cheeks. He is still inside me and I realize I could live and die like this. I slowly wrap my legs around the backs of his, maintaining our full body contact. I can’t seem to get enough of him. He takes my waist in his hands and rolls us over so I am resting on top of him. His arms tighten around my waist, holding my body against his. He, too, is hoping to savor this moment. I wiggle very slightly and he smirks.

"Of course I missed you, Spike. I wondered where you were the whole time...in fact, I still have some questions about that. We got...distracted before you could really finish. How did you get back from this alternate reality you were in?"

"It’s a bit hazy for me, luv. I remember blacking out after... And well, waking in some strange room. While I was out was when I dreamt about you coming to find me. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it at that point. Vampires can’t really bleed to death, but I figured maybe in that world I could. A normal person would’ve." I can’t help but shiver at his words. The image is disturbing. "Then, I remember a voice. The bloody Powers that Be never did show their faces. If they have faces. Just voices. Told me all sorts of mumbo jumbo and basically said, even though I survived their trials, I wasn’t....ready for the soul. That if I was a very very lucky vampire, I may just get it one day, but not today."

Something about what Spike is saying seems off. His eyes drift from mine and the flickers of pain in those eyes worry me. I am ready to kick some Powers ass. "After all that? But Spike, you passed every test they put in front of you! How could they be so cruel..."

"Eh, well. Powers that Be are not like us...don’t bother with reason and logic and all that bollocks. Just do whatever gets their rocks off, I reckon. Turned out to be torturing a vampire that day." Spike shrugs. Something definitely seems off in his story, but he did say he was hazy... Besides, mystical powers and stuff. Big time heavy.

"Are you...disappointed?"

"Disappointed? Not really the word, luv. I was royally pissed. Wanted to rip something apart. Something not human, ‘course." He looks at me, making sure I believe him. He never said he lost the taste for a good fight. And I’m happy to hear it. Best sparring partner I have. "But the Powers don’t really respond well to violence. I had no choice but to accept their terms."

"Terms? What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just mean, accept what they said, luv. No soul for the Big Bad." Just like with Willow, I know when he is hiding something. And he SO is. I squint at him a bit, trying to decipher just what he is not telling me. He runs his hands up my back, tracing the hollow of my spine. My nerves are alive with his touch and again, most of the words in my head become scrambled. He cranes his neck up a little to bump his lips against mine. "Tired yet, luv?" I feel him start to harden inside me again and I can’t help but smile. Unbelievable. I never stuck around long enough before now to learn just how much stamina he does have.

"You’re insatiable." I somehow know this is some kind of diversionary tactic, but it’s an awfully good one. Can’t seem to keep my mind on anything but his touch.

"Truer words were never spoken, Buffy." I feel his proof start to move inside me and I moan. I’m going to be so sore later and it’s going to be so worth it...


 

* * * * * Chapter 20: Stay * * * * *

Spike’s crypt, late afternoon.

I roll over in the cool darkness, reaching for Spike. I reach and reach. Nothing. My eyes fly open as I don’t find him with my searching hand. I sit up suddenly, my heart racing. There’s a noise upstairs in the crypt. I grab the sheet and wrap it around me, jumping from the bed. I slip into the shadows beyond the ladder. If whoever or whatever is up there did something to Spike, I will...well, I’ll do what I do. I hear footsteps approaching the ladder. Glancing around for a weapon produces a dagger, which I clutch tightly, waiting. Good old Spike, weapons always lying around. Dark boots appear on the ladder. A dark form reaches the bottom of the ladder and I fly into action, tackling the figure to the ground, knife to his throat.

"Whoa, luv! ‘s me!" I jerk back, lifting the blade from Spike’s neck in relief. I sit back, straddling his waist. I look to the side and see a white paper bag he must have dropped when I hit him, its contents spilling out . He was bringing me something? Food. Spike, who doesn’t need to eat, was bringing me food. I start to laugh. He sits up on his elbows, studying me. Must think I’m cracking up. "Uh, Buffy? You okay there, pet?"

I look down at this...man. There is no doubt, he is a man to me. Not a vampire, not an enemy, not a demon, not a crutch. He is a man. Full of feelings, notably a love for me. A love I doubted, questioned, derided. But it’s true. He loves me. So much. I feel a warmth in my belly spreading outwards, making my thighs tingle. "I’m just fine, Spike. Sorry to tackle you...I just woke up and you weren’t here...and then I heard noises. Anyway, where were you?" I’m still smiling at him. He likes it from the glint in his eyes and the way his lips are twitching up.

"Thought you might be hungry. Nothing to eat here, so I went out." He says this nonchalantly, as if it were easy for him to wander out into broad daylight and get me a lunch without being burnt to a crisp. "Besides, I don’t really mind when you tackle me, luv."

I shake my head at him. Always makes me laugh. "Just went out, eh?"

"Well, I went down really. Sewers and a quick dash. I put the rest of the food in the fridge for later. Uh, if you’re here later, that is. Know you probably have to leav..."

"Shhhh." I rest my hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him. "Thought I was the only one who rambled. Making you nervous, Spike?" My other hand traces circles on the bare skin exposed above the open buttons of his shirt. He twitches a bit.

"Uh, no. Just figured you‘d be on your way soon." He tries to set his jaw, showing his toughness, his acceptance. His eyes betray him to me.

"Is that what you want, Spike? You want me to leave?"

His voice drops to a sharp whisper. "No. I don’t."

"Well, me neither, so it’s settled. I‘ll stay." I press a quick kiss to his lips and flash another bright smile at him. He cocks his head at me. Woman of mystery, that’s me. "Now, what did you bring me? I am starved. Girl can work up a real appetite with you." I wink and stand up, holding the sheet around me and grabbing up the bag and its contents. Spike stays on the floor, watching me. I walk back towards the bed, studying my lunch...dinner? Don’t even know what time it is. Tuna salad sandwich on whole wheat bread. I glance at him. He just watches me. I peel back the bread and a smile stretches across my lips. Pickles. How did he know this is my favorite sandwich? I peer in the bag and see a huge bunch of red grapes. Plus two chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of water. I set all the food down on the bedside table and walk slowly back to Spike. I reach my hand down to him and he gives me one of those devastating grins. My knees wobble a bit and as he takes my hand, I feel the electricity shoot up my arm. I pull him to a standing position in front of me.

"Did I do okay, luv?" He knows. He knows he has surprised me again. I fight the smile and lose. I take his chin in my hand and lean closer, my breath warming his face. "You did great. Thank you." My kiss presses into his soft lips and I remember all over again why I’m here, underground, in a dark crypt with a vampire named Spike. My eyes shut tighter as I let the feelings wash over me. I love him. Hard to believe how long it took me to realize that and yet now it feels like I’ve loved him for years. So why can’t I tell him? I guess I’m scared. Pretty sad. Not scared of bloodsuckers or gooey demons, but love? Eek. The Slayer package has nothing to do with emotional stability. Every guy I’ve loved has let me down...what if he does the same? My chest burns at the thought, my breathing constricts. He picks up on it immediately. Our lips break contact and I make a sad little noise, missing him immediately.

His eyes search my face wordlessly. Spike senses my emotional turmoil and for once, he decides not to try a full frontal attack. He takes my hand in his and starts to walk toward the bed. I stutter step a bit, following him, the sheet falling away from me and trailing onto the floor. My head is swirling. We stop at the side of the bed. I crawl in, slowly, my nudity having its effect on him. I hear his unneeded breathing accelerate. I look over my shoulder and Spike is nearly naked himself. Once his clothes are discarded, he slides into the bed with me. I marvel again at the sculptural perfection of his body. We lie on our sides, facing each other. He just keeps looking at me and that inner warmth suffuses my every inch of skin. I’m radiating heat like a small sun. Spike moves into orbit next to me, taking my reflected warmth as his own. His hand rests on my hip. I slide my hand under his arm and let my fingers curl around his side.

"Hungry, luv?" I nod. For someone with a witty comment for every slimy beastie, I go rather wordless with Spike. Again. He takes his hand from my hip and reaches for the grapes, twisting one off with a flick of his thumb and index finger. As it comes closer to my mouth, I part my lips slightly. He slides the grape in, letting his thumb follow it between my lips. I close my moist lips on his thumb and watch him as it slides out. The heat between us increases palpably as he feeds me the succulent grapes. I bite one before it gets fully in my mouth and the juice slowly drips down my chin. I swallow the grape and as Spike leans closer, I hold my breath. His tongue gently but firmly licks the sweet liquid up my chin and off my lips. I tremble as the same tongue pushes in between my lips, meeting little resistance. I go to meet him with my own tongue and the juices mix in our mouths as we press harder, then gentler, tasting and twisting. "Cor, you are delicious." His husky voice grabs my attention.

"It’s the grapes, Spike."

"What grapes?" Grabs my earlobe in his teeth, tracing the edge with his tongue. "Just as sweet right here." He adjusts his position and licks my neck, then presses his lips there. "And here." He returns to my mouth, his tongue darting out to wet the bottom lip. He is moving in slow motion to my eyes. Just before our lips meet again, my eyes slip closed. I am completely lost in the kiss. I still can’t believe how my whole body reacts to his lips. Tremors. His movements remain slow and languid, relaxing me. I remember how tired I am, how exhausted I’ve been for so long. Worrying and loneliness took its toll and is starting to catch up with me. And Spike, he should be sleeping for weeks after what he’s been through. I feel him reach down and move the grapes, dropping them on the bedside table. His arms reach under and around me, pulling me closer. My warm, limp body molds itself to his. He turns slightly so my head rests on his chest. I let my arm slide across, holding him to me. We cling to each other, comfortable and at peace. His left hand travels in a winding path up and down my spine. I feel myself start to drift. Just as I think he is already asleep, I feel his arms tighten slightly. "Buffy." I lift my head, thinking he is asking me a question with the whispering of my name. Spike’s eyes are closed. He was merely assuring himself I was here. That I was in his arms. And I realize it is the only place I really want to be.

"Oh, Spike." I pause. I feel him stir at my words as I study his face, those sharp features dissolving into his tender lips. The next words are coming out of my mouth before I can edit them, remind myself of my fear. Just as I begin to speak, his deep blue eyes flutter, opening to meet mine. "I..."

An electric shock bridges the gap between us.

"...I love you."



 

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