Gritting his teeth when Angelus shot him a condescending smile, Spike fought the urge to look away.
“Happy Valentine's Day, Dru,” he said, watching as she held her hand above the heart.
“Oh… Angel!”
Angelus raised his eyebrows at Spike, silently daring him to say something. Anything.
“It's still warm,” Dru said, oblivious to the tension between the two men.
Hearing the pleased, wistful tone, Spike closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before turning to look at Angelus once again.
“I knew you'd like it,” Angelus said, inhaling the aroma that drifted toward him. “I found it in a
quaint little shop-girl.”
Smirking when he saw the abandoned necklace, he picked it up, holding it up to study it. “Cute,” he said after a moment, reaching around Drusilla’s neck to fasten it. “Here.”
Reaching the end of his patience, Spike wheeled toward them as Angelus pulled Dru’s hair back, moving it out of the way to fasten the clasp. “I'll get it,” he said irritably.
Angelus looked up at Spike with a satisfied smile. “Done. I know Dru gives you pity access, but you have to admit it's so much easier when I do things for her,” he said with a smile, making his double entendre perfectly clear.
Barely controlling his anger, Spike never took his eyes away from the other man. “You would do well to worry less about Dru…” he paused, seeing Angelus roll his eyes. “…And more about that Slayer you've been tramping around with.”
Pacing around behind the table, Angelus suppressed a chuckle. “Dear Buffy. I'm still trying to
decide the best way to send my regards,” he said, sitting down on the table.
“Why don't you rip her lungs out? It might make an impression.”
“Lacks… poetry,” Angelus replied in a thoughtful voice.
“It doesn't have to,” Spike said, inhaling sharply as he looked up. “What rhymes with lungs?”
“Don't worry, Spike,” Drusilla said, looking back at Angelus with longing on her features. “Angel always knows…” She looked at the heart in front of her, “…what speaks to a girl's heart.”
* * * * *
Barely controlling his rage as he wheeled himself into his room, Spike slammed the door behind him, pushing himself out of the wheelchair, testing the strength in his legs. He nearly growled in frustration, wanting nothing more than to go out on the hunt with Angelus and Dru and kick the shit out of the poofter for daring to move in on what was his.
“This is the last time he does this,” he said in a low whisper, his voice barely carrying throughout the room.
Coming to a decision, Spike carefully walked out of the room, slowly working on rebuilding the strength in his legs as he left the factory on foot for the first time in months. He could feel his strength rebuilding with the exercise, even as he grew more fatigued.
Taking a route that would guarantee that he wouldn’t run into the Slayer, knowing that he wasn’t up to fighting her with the strength he currently possessed, Spike slowly made his way to the high school, slipping inside the building unnoticed.
Allowing himself a short break to gather his strength once the door slammed shut behind him, he hesitantly walked toward the library, listening intently for the sound of anyone else in the building. After weeks spent suppressing his hearing to avoid the sounds coming from his sire and grandsire when they returned home at sunrise, he found it more difficult to actually focus on the distant sounds in the school.
Approaching the library, he slipped into the shadows of a dark classroom when he heard footsteps, narrowing his eyes for a moment before allowing his demon guise to enhance his vision. Seeing the Slayer’s Watcher walk by a moment later, his arms laden with thick volumes from the library, he waited until he heard the distant slam of the door at the end of the hall before quickly walking toward the library and soundlessly walking through the double doors.
Staying still for a moment to listen for any foreign sounds, Spike continued into the Watcher’s office, hoping he could find what he was looking for and get out before the other man came back.
Even in his weakened state, he knew that he could easily overpower the middle-aged librarian, but he didn’t want to give the Slayer a reason to come after him… until he was fully healed, that is.
Scanning the pile of books that covered the surface, he grabbed a standard book of spells, knowing that it should have something useful in it.
As soundlessly as he’d entered, he left, breathing deep when he stepped into the hall and following the scent of chemicals and disinfectant until he reached one of the science labs.
* * * * *
“Diana… goddess of love and the hunt... I implore thee. Let my cries bind the heart of my beloved,” he said in a quiet voice, lifting the bracelet he’d taken out of Drusilla’s dresser and lowering it into the mixture of potions. “May she neither rest nor sleep until she submits to my will only.” Seeing the flame burn brighter as the power began to grow, Spike watched as a mist swirled around his hands. “Diana, bring about this true love and bless it.” The energy wrapped around him as he quickly blew out the candle, leaving him in darkness.
* * * * *
Listening to Angelus and Drusilla leaving the factory the following night, Spike waited until he could no longer hear the traitorous sounds of his sire and grandsire before throwing his fist into a nearby wall.
It had taken nearly twenty-four hours and he still didn’t see any noticeable change in Drusilla. Frustration couldn’t begin to describe his frame of mind. Hearing the main door open and close a few moments later, Spike frowned. All of the minions had disappeared and he knew from experience that Dru and Angelus wouldn’t be back until the sun was peaking over the horizon.
Pushing himself out of the wheelchair with a soft grunt, Spike walked over to his bedroom door, pulling it open in one swift movement. Instinctively taking a step back as his survival skills kicked in, Spike narrowed his eyes as he looked around, feeling the undeniable power that radiated through the area.
Frowning as he turned around, he crossed the room, deciding to find another weapon before exploring the factory, knowing that fists and fangs wouldn’t cut it if he wasn’t in top shape, which he definitely wasn’t.
“Alone at last.”
Spinning around at the sound of her voice, Spike stared at the Slayer, his lips parted in surprise as she slowly walked toward him with a coy smile.
“Bloody hell! What do you want?” he asked, watching as she approached him with an unrecognizable expression on her face.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, lifting one shoulder in a meager shrug, her eyes openly perusing his body, something that Spike felt increasing uncomfortable with, even as his blood rushed south. His body obviously not able to differentiate between a defenseless woman and the Slayer.
“Just thought you might want some company,” she continued, biting her lip as she looked at him.
“Don’t need any company, Slayer,” Spike replied, narrowing his eyes when she continued to walk toward him. Taking in the sheer white shirt with the camisole underneath and the fitted black pants, Spike tried to figure out where she could have a stake hidden. Surely this was some trick, a way to get close enough to dust him.
“Everyone needs company… Come on,” she said teasingly, moving forward until she was nearly pressed against the stunned vampire. “It’s a party,” she murmured, tracing a hand along his belt. “Aren’t you gonna open your present?”
“Don’t really want to get to know your stake any better, pet,” he said warily, breathing heavily in spite of not needing to. The pull of air into his lungs seemed to keep him grounded in reality.
“No stake,” she said, pouting slightly as if he could have been foolish enough to think such a thing. “Me.”
Unsure of what was happening, Spike angrily gripped her arms, pushing her forcefully against the nearby wall, hearing the tiny ‘oomph’ that she emitted before the same devious smile settled on her lips.
Her eyes didn’t hold a trace of fear as she looked into his. Shifting her body to get closer to him, she raised a hand to his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt. A thrill rushed through her when he clenched his jaw, trying to suppress his body’s reaction to her touch.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, little girl,” Spike growled, not failing to notice that the rougher sound of his voice sent a shiver running through her.
“Games are fun,” she said, looking up at him with a hopeful expression.
“And what’re you playin’ at?”
“Ooh, so we’re going with the games aspect?” she asked with a smile, pressing herself more fully against him as her voice lowered to a seductive whisper, “Feel like rounding the bases?”
His grip tightened on her arms until he noticed the expression fade from her face, leaving her with a slight pout as she winced from the pain. Loosening his hold, he stared into her eyes, seeing that they were slightly unfocused as she looked at him.
“What are you asking for, Slayer?”
“What does it look like, Spike?” she countered, pressing her lower body against his, eliciting a low groan from him that seemed to delight her.
Not knowing or understanding what she was playing at, Spike growled as he threw her on the bed, slowly stalking toward her. “You’re playing with fire, baby,” he murmured, resting one knee on the mattress as she sat up. His eyes widened as he watched her pull the sheer shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but her black pants and skimpy white tank top.
“So burn me,” she said, tossing the shirt to the floor.
His brow furrowed as he looked at her, weighing his options before a slow smirk spread on his face.
“You want this?” he asked, tilting his head to study her.
“More than anything,” she said, her voice taking on a breathless whisper as she licked her lips in anticipation.
Reaching over to the nightstand, he opened the drawer, withdrawing several lengths of rope and holding them in front of her. Testing her.
“You want this enough to be tied up?” he asked, bracing himself for a punch in the nose, never dreaming that she would bring her wrists together and offer them to Spike. Clenching his jaw, Spike grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the bed with her arms over her head, her breath caressing his lips as she stared up at him with a bewildered expression. “What the hell are you up to?”
“I… I thought you wanted it,” she said softly, her eyes searching his face, looking for something to indicate what she could do to make the situation better. Slowly raising up as far as she could, her wrists still restrained above her head, she tenderly brushed her lips over his, pulling back to see the shocked look in his eyes. Deciding to try again, she tentatively pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes when he hesitantly kissed her back.
Abandoning his hold on her wrists, Spike trailed a hand down the length of her bare arm, pausing to gently wrap his hand around her neck, pulling her closer to him.
He had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that he had a warm, willing body beneath him, and in spite of his love for Drusilla, he wasn’t going to turn that away. Especially considering Dru was off somewhere, screwing her sire.
Pressing his mouth more forcefully against hers, he easily maneuvered her arms until he was able to tie her wrists to the headboard, smiling against her lips when she lightly tested the bonds.
“Don’t need any surprises, Slayer,” he whispered, pulling away long enough to move his lips down her jaw and along her neck.
Expecting the tension to flow through her when he came in contact with the sensitive skin of her throat, Spike nearly pulled away in surprise when she tilted her head to give him better access. Letting his demon slide to the forefront, testing her, his eyes widened when she arched her neck toward his fangs.
Shaking off the demon, he stared at her through cold blue eyes, not quite believing what he was seeing. Or feeling.
“I want you, Spike,” she whispered, raising off the bed as much as she could to kiss him again.
Surrendering to her, Spike practically shredded her camisole and bra, breaking away from her lips to leave soft kisses along the skin that was exposed. Moving lower until he managed to work the clasp on her pants, sliding them down her legs, admiring the muscles that were uncovered.
Gently kissing his way back up her body, he felt her trembling beneath him, pausing to look into her eyes. “What caused this, pet?” he asked quietly, unsure of whether he wanted an answer from her. He watched as she shifted restlessly in her bonds, obviously wanting to touch him.
“It's funny how you can see a person so often and not really see them, you know?”
“It’s funny,” he repeated, almost enthralled by her answer. “And it's just getting funnier.”
“When you think about it,” Buffy continued, giving a halfhearted shrug, even as she arched her body beneath his, causing Spike’s eyes to roll back in restraint. “We make a lot of sense.”
“We do?” Spike replied in amusement, frowning when Buffy practically shuddered at his tone of voice.
“You don’t think we do?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “So… what is this to you? Just a game?”
“Well… yeah,” he replied, raising an eyebrow when the Slayer’s expression darkened. The look would normally cause his more natural sense of self-preservation to kick in. As it was, he merely smirked at her.
“You make me feel this way and then reject me? What am I? A toy?”
“Didn’t reject you, pet,” Spike said, moving lower to gently rub the damp material of her panties. “In fact – considering I have you tied to my bed – I don’t plan on letting you leave anytime soon.”
Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his fingers stroking her, teasing her. Restlessly arching toward him, she whimpered when he pulled away, only to smile when she saw him take off his shirt and stand up to shed the tight black jeans he was wearing.
Licking her lips when his cock sprang out of the confining material, she hungrily looked him over, seeing him smirk at her pleased reaction.
“Want you,” she whispered throatily, her voice no longer sounding like her own.
Moving back to the bed, Spike slowly dragged the black panties down her legs, sending chills running through her when his fingers brushed against her skin. Buffy smiled when he tossed them over his shoulder, eagerly lifting her hips toward him.
Covering her body with his own, he kissed her neck, smiling against her skin when he heard her moan. Ghosting a hand along her ribs, Spike moved higher until he was able to cup her breast, gently tweaking a nipple and sending her body arching toward his.
“I need you,” she whispered, struggling against the ropes around her wrist. “Want to touch you.”
“Not that I’m against the idea, pet,” he said in a husky whisper, lightly biting her neck and smiling when he was rewarded with a throaty moan. “But I don’t really want a stake in the back.”
“I wouldn’t stake you,” she said, still lightly tugging at the ropes. “And it’s not like I could have one hidden on me,” she added, smiling when he chuckled against her skin.
“All the same to you, Goldilocks, I prefer we do it this way.”
Pouting slightly, Buffy eagerly parted her lips when Spike kissed her again, his mouth capturing the muffled cry she emitted when he thrust into her, surprised by the sudden invasion of her body, as he stretched her. Buffy eagerly moved her hips with his, frantic to feel as much of him as she could.
Noticing her erratic movements, Spike frowned, reaching down to grab her hip, stilling her movements until she looked up at him.
“Spike,” she groaned in frustration.
“Easy, Slayer. Much as I wouldn’t mind going at it like animals, you’re gonna have to give me a minute.”
Biting her lip and giving him a coy smile, Buffy raised her head, nuzzling the side of his neck, instinctively knowing that would be an erogenous zone for the vampire. Getting the desired affect, she nearly squeaked when he frantically thrust into her. Pushing the limits, she bit down on the exposed skin, smiling against him when she got a growl of approval.
Crying out when he began grinding his hips against hers, Buffy eagerly met his lips in a brutal kiss, pushing against him more forcefully when she felt his face morph into its demon visage.
Jumping slightly when she felt one of his fangs graze her tongue, Buffy’s breath caught in her throat when Spike eagerly sucked at the few droplets of blood as the demon continued to savage her mouth.
Pulling away after a moment, Spike looked down at her with golden eyes before practically lunging at her throat, feeling the need to fully taste her. His fangs sliced into her silky flesh, surprised by the soft sigh of contentment she gave him.
Struggling more forcefully against the ropes around her wrists, wanting to hold him to her, Buffy settled with turning slightly to leave a gentle kiss on his neck, feeling him shiver above her. His fangs sunk deeper into her neck in response, sending her over the edge with a strangled cry. Buffy’s hands fisted as he continued to draw out her orgasm, speeding up his thrusts until stars were bursting in front of her eyes.
Slowly catching her breath, Buffy turned toward Spike as he extracted his fangs, seeing the pleased look on his face. Arching her hips against his as he continued to plunge into her, Buffy looked into his eyes, brushing her lips over his, barely registering the metallic tang of blood that lingered on his lips.
Pulling away, she waited until he made eye contact before offering him a soft smile. “I love you,” she breathed, seeing the shock that passed over his face before his eyes squeezed shut as he came with a harsh growl.
Practically jerking away from her when he regained his motor skills, Spike was about to stand up when the sound of soft laughter filled his ears, causing him to freeze in shock.
“Well,” a voice said from the doorway. “I knew there was a reason I wanted to cut the night short.”
Turning toward the voice with a low growl rumbling in his chest, Spike narrowed his eyes on the man in his room.
“Moving in on my territory again, Willie?” Angelus asked, slowly walking toward the bed, his tone light even as the deadly intent was evident to Spike.
“I’m not yours,” Buffy said in a low voice that held an unsurprising amount of power and deadly intent, considering she was at the mercy of two very powerful vampires.
Not needing to look at the other man to feel the anger that radiated off of him at the Slayer’s words, Spike clenched his jaw. Something inside of him twisted at the idea of his grandsire draining the woman beneath him when she was helplessly tied to the bed and he quickly loosened the ropes, allowing her to free her wrists.
“Didn’t know you liked it so kinky, lover,” Angel said with the same cold smile as he looked at Buffy. “I would have taken more advantage of that.”
Mildly surprised that he wasn’t in the middle of a fight yet, Spike climbed off of the bed, grabbing his jeans off the floor, deciding that if a fight was in his future, he didn’t want to risk his most valuable possessions getting damaged. Dressing quickly, he was mildly surprised to feel the Slayer’s fingernails gently pressing into his back. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was taking comfort in his presence. Shaking off the idea, Spike turned toward her, seeing that she was clearly uncomfortable with Angelus being in the same room.
“Sod off, mate,” he said, looking at the other man with nothing but contempt.
“Not until she’s gone,” Angelus growled, watching Buffy move even closer to Spike.
Knowing there was no other way to avoid a confrontation, Spike shrugged. “Fine with me,” he said, not noticing the confused look on Buffy’s face. “She’s not worth a second go, anyway.”
Feeling as if her heart had been ripped out for the second time in weeks, Buffy stood frozen to her spot, her chin quivering as she looked at the floor. Trembling as she looked around the room, she suddenly became extremely aware of her nakedness.
Angelus, however, didn’t miss her reaction and the demon felt an odd satisfaction at the pain she was in. Even if he hadn’t been the direct cause.
“As long as that’s how you feel,” Angelus said with a shrug. “I’m sure you can show her the way out.”
Spike frowned, vaguely wondering why the other vampire wasn’t going in for the kill when the Slayer was obviously vulnerable, or at the very least, beating him to within an inch of his life, but shrugged off the feeling when he heard the door close. Turning around, his frown deepened when he saw Buffy bending over to pick up her scattered and shredded clothes as she angrily swiped the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.
Closing the distance between them, he cleared his throat as she put on her pants, watching as her back went rigid, obviously not expecting him to be so close to her.
“Here,” he said as her eyes rose to his. Forcing himself to remain unaffected by the tears that were about to spill down her cheeks, he watched as Buffy tentatively reached forward, accepting the red shirt he offered.
Knowing that she couldn’t walk through Sunnydale wearing the tattered remains of her camisole with the sheer top overlaying it, Buffy quickly slipped on the shirt and buttoned it, flipping her hair over the collar as she grabbed the remainder of her clothes.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said quietly, inwardly cursing himself for sounding so much like William.
“I can find my own way,” she said in a cold voice, never looking at him.
Shrugging as he sat down on the bed, Spike contemplated the events of the last hour. His eyes widened as everything fell into place.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, standing up on unsteady legs, weakened by the recent events of the night. Grabbing the bracelet off of the nearby dresser, he stared at it intently for a moment before gritting his teeth, realizing that he’d never seen Drusilla wear the particular bracelet.
“Poofter,” he muttered, restraining the urge to bang his head into the dresser. Knowing that Angelus must have been keeping a few mementos from the Slayer, he clenched his jaw as it all fell into place.
The love spell was cast on the wrong woman.
* * * * *
Wandering through the cemetery a few nights later, Buffy kept a careful eye out for Angelus or Drusilla, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to take both of them together. Hanging her head slightly, her shoulders slumped as she continued her patrol.
“Really should be more careful.”
Spinning around to face the shadows, Buffy narrowed her eyes when she saw Spike approaching her.
“Not on your guard, dropping your shoulder like that. Any nasty can come along and take a bite out of you.”
Her hand unconsciously drifted to her neck, lightly running her fingertips over the scars that resided.
“I know I’m running a risk by being here,” Spike said, glancing at her before shoving his hands in his pockets. “But you don’t… have certain feelings toward me, right?”
‘Way to go, Spike,’ he told himself, nearly rolling his eyes. ‘Sound like a first-rate whelp.’
“I hate you,” she said without hesitating, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that the answer you were looking for?”
“Actually, yeah,” he said with a pleased smile. “I’ll just be off then. I’m sure you’ll have a merry ol’ time slayin’ some pals of mine.”
“What if I want to start with you?” she replied with an edge to her voice, raising her stake forebodingly.
“Easy, Slayer,” Spike said with a slight smile. “Don’t want to do anything rash, do you?”
“Staking your ass?” she retorted. “Not rash. Smart.”
Spike barely blinked before Buffy had launched herself at him, catching him with a right hook to the jaw. Retaliating, Spike slammed his fist into her cheek, spinning around and kicking her, effectively pushing her a few feet away from him- her blood had done it’s part to heal him and he wasn’t about to back down from a fight.
“Come on, love,” he said with a smile, panting lightly from the adrenaline coursing through him. “Give us a go.”
Kicking him forcefully in the stomach, Buffy didn’t repress the rage that was flowing through her. “Why should I? I’m not worth a second go, remember?”
Refusing to feel bad for something he’d said, Spike forced an indifferent expression on his face, smashing his fist into her nose and sending her reeling back with the power of it.
“I don’t know about that,” he said with a smirk, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed on him when she got mad. “Might be up for round two, if you are.”
To Spike’s surprise, Buffy took a step back, a confused expression marring her features. “Go home.”
Her softly spoken words carried enough power and conviction that nearly had Spike doing just that. But he stood his ground.
“Now, why would I leave when it obviously bothers you that I’m here?” he asked with a smile.
“Fine,” she muttered, turning away from him. “I’ll leave.”
Rolling his eyes as he took a few steps forward, Spike took a deep breath. “Slayer, wait.” Watching Buffy stop but not turn toward him, he continued, “What’s wrong?”
Opening her mouth to respond, Buffy stopped herself, shaking her head as she turned to walk away.
“Buffy.”
Hearing her actual name spoken quietly from the man behind her, Buffy felt tears gather in her eyes. Turning to face him, she quietly sized him up, obviously wondering if she could trust him enough to talk to him. “Can I ask you something?” she said after a moment.
“You just did, pet,” he replied with a smirk, rolling his eyes when she didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Out with it.”
Swallowing nervously, Buffy looked at the ground, feeling the Slayer side of herself slipping away as the girl remained. “What is it about me?” she asked, her voice soft and unsure.
“Not quite following,” Spike said, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looked at her.
Opening her mouth to speak, Buffy slowly closed it, unsure of how much she wanted to tell a man who had humiliated her only days earlier.
“Talk to me, Slayer.”
Looking up into his penetrating gaze, Buffy battled the tears in her eyes- the stress of the last few months was adding up, leaving her more emotionally exposed than she ever cared to be.
“What am I doing wrong?” she finally asked, biting her lip as she avoided his eyes, mentally kicking herself for how immature she sounded, even to her own ears.
Looking away in confusion for a moment, Spike’s eyes widened when he realized the meaning behind her words. “Nothing,” he said, not seeing the point in lying to her. He didn’t take pleasure in her emotional pain the way Angelus did. Spike had always preferred a fair fight.
“Right,” Buffy replied with a disbelieving laugh, angrily wiping her eyes as she attempted to walk past him. “Thanks for the honesty,” she said sarcastically.
Spike grabbed her arm before she could walk away. “What would be the point of lying?” he asked, staring into her eyes.
“I don’t know, Spike,” she retaliated, the fighter reappearing, pushing the timid young woman out of reach. “You either lied to me or you lied to Angel. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which is the truth.”
Remembering what he’d said about her that night, Spike hesitantly looked at the ground. “And why would you assume that anything I say to the pillock is the truth?” he asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one as he waited for her answer.
Unable to force herself to raise her gaze to his, Buffy kept her eyes trained on his scuffed black boots. “Because it seems to be the popular theory,” she said, biting her lip to keep her chin from trembling.
“What’re you…? Oh,” he said, his eyes widening in comprehension.
“Now you know,” she said, closing off her emotions as cold eyes looked up into his. “Go have yourself a nice laugh with Angel. I’m sure I’ll provide you with entertainment galore.”
Walking away from him before he could say anything, Buffy took a shortcut through the graveyard, foregoing patrolling, knowing that she wouldn’t be on the top of her game.
Hearing the soft thud of footfalls behind her, Buffy spun around in time to see Spike running toward her.
“Slayer! Come on now, stop!”
“Get away from me, Spike,” she said, doing her best to ignore him.
“Not until you hear me out,” he said, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him.
“What’s to say?” she asked angrily.
Looking at her for a moment, Spike swallowed nervously, suddenly realizing the weight his words would have on her. “I don’t love you.”
Buffy arched an eyebrow in response.
“I mean… something happened. Something fucked up and… it’s my fault, but I don’t love you.”
Buffy blinked.
Spike stared at her, waiting for the explosion that he was sure would come. And she didn’t disappoint.
Chin quivering, Buffy took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. Unable to hold back any longer, she began giggling hysterically, clutching at her stomach as she tried to pull air into her lungs.
Staring at her in shock, Spike crossed his arms over his chest, his patience running thin as she continued to laugh, nearly folding over on herself.
“What’s so bleedin’ funny?” he yelled after a minute.
“You… I…” Buffy trailed off, gasping for breath as she slowly came back to herself. Clearing her throat to cover up the rest of her giggles, she managed to look at Spike with a straight face. “I know you don’t love me, Spike,” she said, a smile pulling at her lips as she spoke. “I don’t love you, either.”
Frowning after a moment, Spike looked at the ground, trying not to think about how much that stung. His brow furrowed as he thought about the spell book, trying to remember something in it about the spell wearing off. His eyes widened when he realized that it broke when the person who cast it confessed their feelings – true or not.
“I don’t know what came over me,” she said with a shrug, looking at the ground. “It’s not like I randomly go into vampire’s lairs for some action.”
“Feel free to come back to mine anytime, pet,” he replied with a slight smile, raising his eyes to hers.
His soft words provided the solace she needed.
“Listen, Slayer, I don’t really want to get to know your stake better, but I think you should know.”
“Know… what?” she asked, watching him carefully.
“I… I did something I probably shouldn’t have.”
Bracing herself for what might have been the final blow, Buffy nodded at him to continue.
“There’s a spell. Sort of a love spell that-”
“You did a spell on me?” she asked in outrage, taking a step toward him, nearly crushing the stake in her hand.
“Not on you,” he said, backing up and holding his hands in the air, hoping for a truce between them. “Dru. I wanted Dru back.”
Her features softened slightly at that. “What went wrong?” she asked, seeing him relax at her different tone of voice.
“Apparently the poofter I call a grandsire decided to keep a little memento from you.”
“He hasn’t exactly been shy about keeping his distance,” Buffy muttered, taking a deep breath. “But I’m not in love with you now… I remember it… remember feeling something,” she said quietly. “Did it wear off?”
“Something like that,” he muttered, not wanting to bring up a sore subject again.
Nervously shifting from foot to foot, Buffy took a deep breath. “Do you still want to do the spell on her?” she asked, looking into his eyes.
“What’s the point?” he muttered. “The second it wears off, she’ll just be back in his arms… and his bed.”
Cringing slightly at that image, Buffy tried to shake it away, looking up at Spike with a slight smile. “It’s hard to forget,” she said quietly.
“Especially when they don’t make a habit of being quiet,” he said, kicking angrily at the grass beneath his feet.
“No,” Buffy said, shyly looking down to avoid his gaze. “Us. It’s hard to forget us.”
Tilting his head to study her, Spike’s brows knit together. “There’s an us?”
“There was,” she said tentatively before clearing her throat and laughing nervously. “I-I mean… forget it, I’m just being stupid.”
Catching her arm before she could pass him, Spike forced her to look at him. “What are you gettin’ at, Slayer?”
“It was… it was nice,” she said, shrugging slightly, reminding him of when she’d first stepped into his bedroom- part shy schoolgirl, part seductress.
“It was,” he replied. “I don’t know if I would describe it as nice,” he added with a smile.
A smile played on her lips as her confidence grew. “And what would you call it?”
Deciding to take a risk, Spike took a step forward, really noticing her for the first time as he gently swept her hair away from her shoulder, lightly holding onto her neck to look into her eyes. “Amazing,” he said in a husky whisper.
Swallowing nervously, Buffy gave a slight laugh, looking downward to avoid his penetrating gaze.
“Buffy.”
Hearing her whispered name, she slowly looked up at him. Her breath caught in her throat when he lowered his lips to hers, causing her to grab his arms to steady herself against the rush of emotions. Closing her eyes and tilting her head when he began kissing along her jaw and down her neck, Buffy gasped for breath, clutching at him, relying on him to hold her upright.
“Want you,” he said, his voice low and aggressive as he pushed her against a tombstone.
“Spike,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice pleading with him to take her.
Pulling away to look into her eyes, Spike studied her for a long moment, noting with some amusement that she was growing frustrated with him.
“What’s with the intermission?” she asked, pulling him forward.
“Is this you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. “I mean… not that I care, but… is this you?”
“It’s me,” she said, running a hand over his cheek. “No danger of me staking you if you don’t give me what I want. You’ll be on the tail-end of a hissy-fit but not my stake.”
“That was a risk?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you saying you would have turned me down?” Buffy replied, closing her eyes when Spike moved forward, lightly biting her neck.
“Not in this lifetime,” he said, reaching for the button on her pants, making quick work of stripping them off. “Next time, sunshine, be a love and wear a skirt.”
“Skirts… check,” Buffy said breathlessly, barely noticing when Spike lifted her up and rested her on the tombstone. Eagerly helping him with his belt, Buffy pulled him toward her for a kiss, her grip tightening when she felt him seeking her out. Trembling when he gently ran the head of his cock along her entrance, she nearly panted in frustration. “Spike, please…”
Crying out when he thrust into her, Buffy eagerly met his frantic pace, gasping when he lifted her and spun them around to press her to the side of a mausoleum.
Not bothering to be careful with her, Spike violently plunged into her, encouraged by the sounds she was making as her hands slipped beneath his duster, clawing at his skin through the thin t-shirt he was wearing.
Brutally holding her hips in place, Spike slammed into her, fighting the urge to let his face shift as he bent lower to bite her neck, tearing the skin with his human teeth.
Holding onto him as he pounded into her welcoming body, Buffy trembled when she felt his teeth at her throat, partly in fear, partly in anticipation. Threading her fingers through his hair, she arched her back against his, craving more, even as he tasted her blood. Pushing against him with as much strength as she could, Buffy’s gaze met his as she took a deep breath, letting everything slam into her with perfect clarity.
Realizing what was happening at the same time, Spike slowed his movements. His hands softer, his touch more gentle, his kisses sweeter. Closing her eyes, she shivered in his arms, as he slowly rocked his hips against hers. Seeing the emotions in his eyes, Buffy frantically blinked away the tears in hers, not understanding what was happening.
Spike sped up his thrusts slightly, still holding Buffy’s gaze. Nearly closing his eyes when she affectionately ran a hand over his forehead, he watched her intently. His brow furrowed as she continued in the same soothing manner, almost trying to feel the ridges of the demon’s brow, even when he wasn’t on the surface.
Leaning forward, Buffy pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, sensuously sliding her cheek along his as she lightly bit down on his earlobe. Her voice was a breathy whisper as she clung to him. “I want to love you.”
Pulling back to look at her in shock, Spike’s jaw set in a firm line as he thrust into her, wrapping his arms around her, needing to hold her close.
Buffy arched against him as her orgasm washed over her a few moments later, intensifying when Spike’s fangs cut into her throat. Screaming out her climax, she grasped Spike’s shoulders, too scared to let go as he spilled himself inside of her.
Breathing heavily for a moment, she let her head fall to his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Pulling back to look into his eyes, Buffy tried to trample the fear that was spreading through her body. “For what?” she asked nervously.
“Wanting to love me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “No one’s ever wanted that.”
Closing her eyes in contentment, Buffy was somewhat aware when Spike lowered her to the ground. Reluctantly separating herself from him, she slowly pulled on her pants, surprised when she turned around to see his duster laying on the ground as Spike held his hand out to her.
“Come here, baby.”
Closing the distance between them, Buffy allowed herself to be pulled to the ground, mildly surprised when he lay down and guided her to lie on top of him. Sighing in contentment when she felt his hand moving through her hair in a soothing gesture, Buffy closed her eyes.
“This can’t be this easy,” she whispered, feeling him tense slightly before continuing to play with her hair.
“What do you mean, pet?”
“Angelus and Dru,” she said quietly, pulling him closer in a defensive maneuver. “They’re still out there. Still a threat.”
“Is there a plan?”
“I have to take out Angel.”
“Need help?”
Looking up in surprise, Buffy blinked, trying to understand what he was saying. “You’ll help me?” she asked in shock.
“Can’t kill Dru, love.”
Looking away, she took a deep breath. “I didn’t ask,” she whispered, covering the hurt in her voice.
Sighing heavily, he gently ran a hand over her hair, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head. “But I won’t stop you.”
Raising up to look at him in shock, Buffy lips parted as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.
“I don’t like it,” he said, reading her expression. “But it’s not like she wants to be with me.”
“And if she did?” Buffy asked nervously, sitting up slightly, only to be held in place by the strong arms wrapped around her.
“I’ve loved her for over a century, Buffy.”
“I understand,” she said quietly, still making a move to stand up.
“No you don’t,” he said, holding her close. “She’s my past.”
“And your future,” she filled in, looking down at him, trying to disguise the hopeful expression in her eyes.
Brushing a tender kiss to her lips, Spike pulled her as close as he could. “That depends on you.”
“What do you mean?” Buffy asked, daring to hope that one man she cared about wouldn’t leave her.
“What’s it sound like?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.
“Spike,” she said in a warning tone, surprised when she was jerked up by her arms, only to be pulled back toward him, shivering when his lips met hers in a possessive kiss.
Breaking away after a moment, he gave her a hesitant smile, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “It means, I want to love you.”