A Kiss Is Simply This... by Caitlin Jenay
Confusing by Caitlin Jenay
Author's Notes:
Contains spoilers for season six, and all seasons before, up ‘till ‘Once More with Feeling,’ after that goes slightly AU, changing their entire relationship. Probably not much angst, action or violence, but I like to be safe because I tend to run a bit off course... Most of the story is Buffy’s thoughts so first person... It’s kinda like the angel on one shoulder, devil on the other type of deal… Told in both first and third person, I know some like third better than first person, I personally have no opinion, but anyway…on to the story.
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Kick, jump, punch, duck, kick again, and stake.
Rhythm, you always have to have rhythm. I had rhythm when I was singing.
Oh yes, singing, let’s remind myself of that again. Oh! And I kissed Spike, and…here’s the clencher; I liked it!
I kissed Spike, again, and I liked it, a lot. Like enough to want it to keep going on and on and on, but then there’s the issue of air…for me, not him…obviously.
And during our little air break, I came to my senses, realized what I was doing and…yes, you guessed it; I ran. Because it’s what I always do, I run.
Except when I’m fighting, like I’m supposed to be doing now. Probably should get back to that. Now where is that other vamp, the really, really ugly, stuck in the sixties one. Oh there! Currently flying through the air after jumping from a nearby tombstone. I’m guessing he was trying to jump on me and knock me to the ground. Moron. I crouch down, the look on his face is comical once he realizes that he’s going to fly right over my crouching form and slam into the tombstone behind me. The look turns to terror as I thrust my hand upward, the stake I’m holding sliding easily to his heart. Again, moron.
“Blech!” Of course this move cost me. Vamp dust. Everywhere. In my eyes, in my nose, covering my outfit, and best of all; in my mouth…lovely. So now, as if things weren’t bad enough already, I’m desperately trying to spit the dust from my mouth when the sound of clapping overrides my hearing. I don’t have to look to know that this is déjà vu of our first meeting.
“Now that was attractive Slayer!”
I stand, heaving a sigh, making clear the fact that I’m not overly excited to see him. Now normally I’d actually be happy to see him, the one person who completely understands me, who knows me better in the few years he’s been here than the people who’ve been with me since high school, but today is different. Today I kissed him…well not actually today, it was yesterday, 22 hours, 37 minutes and 20-something seconds--I’m gonna stop now.
“Nice move though luv, on your part at least, bloody idiot he was.” He’s pointing to the dust scattered on the ground, stepping forward at the same time.
Oh-oh God. He’s moving closer…no-no-no stay, stay right where you are. He’s inches from my face now and…and damn it why am I not moving! ‘Cuz I don’t want to that’s why. I want to be close, I want him to kiss me, kiss me like he did 22 hours, 38 minutes, and 17 seconds ago. But inside I know it’s wrong. Yes wrong…very, very wrong.
No…not those eyes, God not those eyes. I can’t lie to him when he looks at me like that, all understanding and dare I say it…loving. But most of all, when he looks at me like that…I can’t lie to myself. I can’t tell myself its wrong, that wanting him is wrong, that loving him would be wrong. I don’t love him, not yet, but I could, and that thought scares me more than I can comprehend.
I don’t have the greatest history with vampires, I mean hello, remember Angel? But then again I don’t exactly have the greatest history with humans either, cases in point: Parker Abrams and Riley Finn.
Angel told me I was better off without him and left me. Parker just used me (and can officially be named as the biggest mistake of my life), and Riley, well Riley chose vampire whores over me, which doesn’t exactly give a girl a healthy self-image if you know what I mean.
But then…there’s him.
He would never leave me, not unless I made him, that much I know…that much I’m sure of. He also loves me, I believe that, which means he would never just use me for one night of selfish passion. It also means that he would never go to some vamp whore for a few cheap thrills. If he’s anything at all, it’s loyal. He once told me he was love’s bitch; I see now what he means.
He’s doing something with his hand, lifting it up towards my face, I should move, run, because I know if he touches me I’ll be lost, I’ll give in to what my body and my heart want me to do. For some reason my mind can’t come to terms with what it wants, but luckily for me those long fingers bypass my skin, moving instead to brush the remaining vamp dust from my hair. In relief, I release the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, but my relief is short-lived because his hand drifts down to cup my cheek, fingers ghosting against my skin.
I suck in a breath, willing myself not to lean into his touch and instead do something productive; hit him, kick him, knee him, something, anything. But instead I just stand there like a complete moron; frozen, not breathing, not moving, apparently no longer functioning on the higher level most humans are capable of.
He tilts his head down slightly, observing me curiously through hooded ocean-blue eyes. I hate the way he can read me so easily because next he smiles, a knowing, almost taunting smile. He can sense my indecision, knows more about what I’m thinking than I even do. His lips drift closer, I’m tempted to shut my eyes, lean towards him, let him kiss me, but at the last second he drifts back up, pressing those ever-kissable lips to my forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back to look into my dazed eyes. He smiles again, this time a real smile, less smirky, more gentle.
“We kissed Buffy. You can’t forget that, no matter how much you may want to. When you’re ready to talk to me about it, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me.”
He steps away, pulling his hand slowly from my flesh. He’s turning now, walking away, I should let him, I should… “Spike!”
He turns. “Yes luv?”
Oh god, what did I do that for, what was I gonna say damn it! Oh! Oh right-yeah.
“Say it again…please…” I’m pleading shamelessly but I need to hear it, need to hear him say it, need to be sure that if I give myself over to what I’m feeling, that if I give myself over to him, I won’t be hurt, that it’ll turn out better, that he’ll never leave me.
He’s confused for a moment, but then it dawns on him and he understands, he always understands. He steps back over, bringing both hands up to cup my face and tilt it upwards.
“I love you Buffy. Always.” His eyes exude truth, and I can see the love he speaks of clearly within the blue.
He told me what I needed to hear, and he can give me what I need to have. All the things I should only be able to get from human beings, human men, but yet can get from no one but him: true love, caring, protection, understanding, consistency. He will never leave me…if I let him stay.
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TBC
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