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| In Omne Tempus - Wait For Stormy Skies by Holly (0 Reviews) | | abc + + + |  | | | Chapter Fifteen
Wait For Stormy Skies
Buffy watched in fascination as Spike moved about the kitchen, collecting ingredients for what he assured her would be a better breakfast than anything she’d ever had at the local Aunt Martha’s Pancake House, where she occasionally met her friends on Saturday mornings.
She was of the persuasion that ignoring the small things he knew about her life was a good thing. Much less chance of being wigged every second throughout the day.
Still, some things were hard to let go of. “I can’t believe you’re making me breakfast.”
She’d been saying something to that effect every few minutes now for the past half hour. Spike merely glanced up and grinned, masterfully maneuvering the spatula over the eggs that were cooking to yummy goodness in the frying pan. “After this mornin’, luv,” he said with a wicked smirk, “I think it’s the leas’ I can do.”
She flushed brilliantly and glanced down once more. “You’re never gonna let me hear the end of it, are you?”
“From where I’m standin’, sweetheart, I’m hopin’ for many more of these sleepovers.” He favored her with a lavish leer. “Wakin’ up to you…that was jus’ delicious.”
“I’ll have you know that I don’t wake up everyone with a handjob.”
The word was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and the ground seemed to quake beneath her feet. She managed to give her actions this morning a term; a rather crude one at that. The blush burned deeper and she refused to meet his eyes.
Spike’s shoulders went rigid, but he didn’t bark his instinctive reply. The one she knew surfaced automatically, and though she knew he was thinking it, there was some comfort in the knowledge that he could tame his demon. That she was the motivation behind keeping the monster in line.
I’m the biggest hypocrite ever.
Instead, he muttered a noncommittal, “That’s reassuring.”
She was the first Slayer to have to tolerate thoughts that betrayed her Calling. And yet, how could it be betrayal if the Powers made it so? If the Powers mated her intentionally to the one she was supposed to kill; the one who was supposed to be her enemy. He fought his demon, she fought her slayer, and they would balance each other out for everything else that happened.
Clarity was still a ways off, but she was getting there. Slowly.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, smiling gently when he met her eyes. “You’d probably eat whoever I touched anyway, right?”
Spike studied her for a long minute, as though trying to gauge if the question was meant to trap him, then slowly grinned his thanks and nodded. “’m the only one you get to touch,” he retorted instead, still testing the waters, not trusting the calm. “’Specially like that. Anyone else who tries should be well an’ warned.”
“That you’ll eat them?”
“See, Slayer, there are certain things you’re not gonna get me to say, ‘cause I’ve found with as annoying as it can be, I do enjoy livin’ the unlife.”
“Well, I enjoy you living the unlife, too, so we can rule out death by slayer-stakeage.”
“Fair enough.” He scooped a helping of eggs onto a plate for her, where he had the potatoes and bacon already prepared. “You want orange juice or milk?”
“You really expect me to eat all that?”
“Every bite. What do you want to drink?”
“Are you fattening me up for Thanksgiving?”
“’m makin’ sure you don’ turn into a bloody beanpole, Slayer.”
She laughed uncertainly. “No chance of that. I have pouch-tummy.”
“In some mad world of Buffy’s Irrational Delusions, I’m sure you do.” He placed the plate at the island and flashed her a challenging glance. “’S nummy, baby. I’m a bloody good cook.”
“It smells good.”
“An’ you don’ eat enough.”
“I eat plenty!”
“Bollocks. You din’t touch that sandwich I made you last night. You haven’t eaten since your apple an’ yogurt yesterday at lunch.” Spike grinned wickedly when her eyes widened in shock. He tapped his nose and shot her a look of pure superiority. “Now eat.”
“You’re kinda creepy, you know that?”
The vampire barked a laugh. “In all my years, pet, that might be the tamest thing anyone’s ever called me.”
“I’ll bet,” she retorted wryly.
“Eat.”
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Death by greasy breakfast goodness?”
“Sweetheart—”
Buffy grinned and threw her hands up. The look on his face was treading on hurt that she apparently didn’t want to eat his food, and exasperation with her fixation on her weight. Well, that’s a girl thing. He has to get used to it. Instead, she walked to him, brushed a kiss across his lips, and said, “Okay. I’ll give it a try just because you’re pretty.”
If anything, that made him moodier. “Am not,” he scoffed.
“Well, I guess I can’t blame you for not knowing. I mean, you have been mirror-challenged for over a century.”
“Men are not pretty, Buffy.”
“Yeah, see, here’s the thing where I think my judgment is better than yours.”
“You’re off your bird.”
A frown crossed her face. “Didn’t know I was on a bird.”
Spike cracked at that; he laughed richly. “Eat your brekky, you saucy minx,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes glimmering.
Buffy smiled and took a bite of eggs, sighing as though it was a big inconvenience. “I guess this is okay,” she said, doing her best to suppress how good it tasted.
“Jus’ okay?” he asked with a teasing grin.
“I’ve totally had better.”
“Uh huh.”
She grinned and conceded without making a sound, rather lowering her fork to her plate to scoop up another mouthful. It was nice; just sitting with him as though they were normal. As though she wasn’t the Slayer. As though they weren’t so horribly complicated, and the burden of the future didn’t mean it would change her life forever.
Merrick had changed her life, but that wasn’t the same thing.
Spike looked at her and her world was different.
She knew he was being patient for her, and that she wasn’t making it any easier on either of them. Not with her actions the night before, not with the way she had woken him, not with the way she felt every cell in her body urging her to the solace of his embrace.
The faster she confronted what was holding her back, the faster she could be with him without a weight holding her down.
“Spike,” she said, nibbling at her bacon. “What’s going to happen?”
“When?”
“When we…I mean…what I feel now has nearly taken over me. Will it completely when we…” Buffy flushed and glanced down. “When it happens…is it going to get worse?”
“No, sweetheart.” He smiled. “It’s this bad now ‘cause we haven’ done it. It’s gotten worse with time. The more we’re around each other, the more we need to make it complete, I’d wager. Which is why it feels like this when we’re together.”
“Like this?”
“Always on the border of losin’ control.” Spike sighed and shook his head. “You’re feelin’ it as richly as I am…only you don’ have a demon, so when you lose control, it’s not nearly as bloody violent. An’ you don’ know why you’re doin’ it.”
“This morning?”
A grin. “That wasn’t a loss of control, pet. That was a girl bein’ a girl. You’ve never…this is all new to you.”
“But not to you.”
Spike paused, frowning as though he was weighing his words carefully. “I’ve been with women before, yes,” he said slowly, wincing when she winced. “But no, Buffy…’s never been like this for me before.”
“Liar.”
“I bloody swear to you.”
“I’m not exactly the best consolation prize. I mean—”
A growl tore through the air and he stormed forward, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her to him fiercely. “Never think that,” he snarled. “You irritatin’ thick-skulled chit, I wouldn’t say it if I din’t mean it. You drive me wild. I’ve waited for you, wanted you, dreamed of you for fourteen years. An’ now that I’m here…that I’ve touched you…tasted you…god, there’s no way to explain it. An’ I’ve never felt anythin’ like it. Ever.”
Buffy shivered, her insides rattling under the power of his gaze, but she refused to lose her footing. “But it’s because of the claim, right? Not because of me.”
Spike’s eyes squeezed shut, as though he was about to lose his last hold on control. “No,” he ground out. “Not the claim. Not the sodding claim. The claim jus’ means you’re mine; it doesn’ mean rot to how I feel about you.”
“How…you feel about me?”
“Right.”
“You feel…”
A small smile crossed his face. “Yes, Buffy. I feel many, many things.”
“Spike—”
She didn’t get another word out. The vampire seized her lips in a furious kiss, and she instantly melted into him. She flung her arms around his neck, sighing in relief as the distance between them that had tortured her all morning became nonexistent. His mouth was against hers, his hands on her body, his hips thrusting into hers. Her flesh was on fire, her panties were drenched, and the haze that threatened to overwhelm her completely suddenly didn’t seem so daunting. She was in Spike’s arms, and it was wonderful.
“God, Buffy,” he gasped between kisses. “I want you so much.”
“Uhhh…”
“’ve wanted you forever. Want to be inside you. Want your hot, sweet pussy squeezin’ me to oblivion. Want to taste you. Drink you. Fuck, I want it all.”
He was tugging on her slacks.
No. Not here. Not like this.
“Spike—”
“Want you so much.” He broke his lips from hers, mapping a wet path to her throat. “Want you to be mine.”
“Spike! I…stop!”
Buffy pressed her palms to his chest and forced him off her, even as her body cried out in protest. He crashed haphazardly against the counter, his eyes wide as he returned to himself.
“Oh God.”
She was heaving deep breaths that made her chest ache. The distance between them nearly tore at her skin, but there was something dangerous within her that would push her boundaries to unfamiliar territory if she dared touch him again. This was becoming insufferable. She needed him, but the need terrified her. The need was chipping away at her resolve. The need was devouring her whole.
Still, the look in Spike’s eyes told her plainly that it wasn’t any easier where he was standing.
“So,” she said between gasps. “This…this goes away when we make the claim official?”
“Well, partly.”
“Only partly?”
He flashed a weak smile. “There’s no way that my wanting you is ever gonna go away.”
“Oh.”
“It’ll jus’ be easier to control.” A pause. “Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?”
A wicked grin spread across his lips. “Once I’ve had you, baby, I don’ think I’ll ever get enough.”
“What if I suck?”
He waggled his brows. “I wouldn’t mind at all if you sucked a bit.”
“Spike!”
“Or called out my name. You can keep doin’ that.”
“I…” Her cheeks were burning. She cast her eyes to the ground and expelled a deep, controlled breath. “I really…so we mate…we claim each other. And that’s it? Nothing changes? Except I’ll be in control of myself and the mate of a vampire. Does that mean I’ll be all…submissive? ‘Cause buddy, I don’t think—”
Spike held up a hand. “Sweetheart, I don’ want you submissive, so you can wipe that thought right outta your pretty li’l head.” He smirked. “Though ‘f you ever feel the need to drop to your knees before me an’ do some of that aforementioned sucking, I won’ be one to stop you.”
“You pig!”
“Oink bloody oink. Never denied it, baby. Don’ you forget it.”
That much was true. Didn’t do much to help her blushing problem, but he was honest with her, and she appreciated it. Buffy just grinned and looked anywhere but his stormy eyes. That always got her in trouble. Those eyes were lethal weapons.
“So…no submissive-Buffy.”
“’Less she feels like it.”
She conceded that point. “Unless I feel like it. Will I…is there anything else?”
The teasing fire died from Spike’s eyes, and he glanced down.
“Spike?”
“There’s one more thing. Your Watcher told me as much last night.” He paused. “Buffy, the part of you that makes you the Slayer…the part of you that gives you your strength…that part of you will…I don’ know what it is, really, but Rupes implied that you have a li’l demon in you.”
Her body went numb. “D-d-demon?”
Spike didn’t say anything.
“There’s demon in me? What? I can’t…how is that—”
“’S where your powers come from, baby, an’ it’s not evil. Jus’ makes you a li’l more the superhuman than all the other girls your age. ‘S nothin’ to be ashamed of…or afraid of.” He met her eyes steadily. “But when it happens, when I claim you, that part will immortalize you.”
A long silence stretched between them. “What?”
“Slayer…”
“Immortal?”
There had always been a strange combination of fear and peace in the knowledge that her life would be short. Granted, while she didn’t crave death, the prospect of fighting the forces of darkness for the entirety of her life had always shrouded her future in darkness. And now…
Now…
“I…” Buffy shook her head and stepped away. “I can’t do this.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this.”
Spike’s eyes darkened. “I thought we covered that this isn’t somethin’ either one of us have a choice in.”
“I don’t mean I…I need this…Spike, I can’t…I…” She shook her head again, and turned so she wouldn’t see the pain in his eyes. “I just…I need to think. I can’t just do this and…”
“So you’re kickin’ me out.” A beat. “Again.”
“When you’re here, I can’t think of anything but what it feels like when you touch me. I never act like this, Spike. Never. And yes, I know that it all serves a greater purpose, but where does that mean I have to be immortal?” She had started crying without realizing it; rich tears spilled down her cheeks, and her body was shaking with the weight of her confusion. “Please…”
There was a slow, controlled breath. She felt him step closer. “I don’ wanna leave you while you’re upset, baby.”
“I need you to.” She shook her head. “There’s the basement. I use it sometimes to sneak out when Mom’s made sure to lock my window from the outside, and I get out through the sewers to patrol.”
He nodded. “I know, kitten.”
“Yeah, I thought you would.”
Spike stepped forward once more and prompted her to face him. “I don’ wanna leave you while you’re upset,” he said again. “You don’ know what your tears do to me.”
“I know.” Buffy forced a smile. “But I can’t do this. I can’t just be with you until I’ve figured some things out for myself.”
“How long will that take?” he asked hoarsely. As though she had the answer. “I can’t be away from you for long, sweetness. Not now that we’ve…that I’ve gotten so close. I can’t—”
“I know. Me neither. I just…please, Spike.”
“I’ll make it worth it for you,” he swore ardently. “Immortality’s not such a bad gig, y’know. I’ll make it so you never regret it.”
“I don’t doubt it. I just…I have this thing and I have to sort it out without you here. You…my feelings for you are too strong for me to think for myself, and I just need some space.” Against her better judgment, she closed the space between them once more and brushed a kiss against his lips. “It won’t be long.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Like she could stay away from him any more than he could from her.
A sigh rumbled through him. He kissed her again before forcing himself away; he grabbed the duster that was hanging by the back door, and disappeared into the basement. She didn’t budge until she no longer felt him in the house, then allowed herself to collapse.
God, it hurt.
It hurt.
“What’s happening to me?” Buffy drew in a sharp breath and wiped her eyes. But it was a redundant question; she knew what was happening, and why.
She wanted him. He was gone only seconds, and already it felt as though part of her was missing.
She needed to talk to someone.
Thus she did what any girl in her shoes would do; phoned her best friend, and begged her to come over.
This required tissues, Terms of Endearment, and gallons of ice-cream prior to the part where Willow talked some sense into her.
After all, such was the contractual obligation of the best friend.
To be continued in Chapter Sixteen: From Now Until Forever…
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