Chapter 7
She was so confused…and frustrated. The more she tried to remember things, the more she felt like the answers slipped away. She could hold an image for a brief moment before it completely vanished from her mind. If she concentrated hard enough, she could understand bits of what the people were saying, but they spoke to fast. The worst part was she knew that at some point in her life she would have understood exactly what was going on.
When they had led her to the second floor, the pictures had caught her eye. More things that she should know, images of her and Dawn captured on paper. She wanted to touch them, feel them, absorb the knowledge they contained, but clear, hard surfaces blocked her finger.
Tara and Dawn had pulled her into a small room and made water appear out of thin air. Well that was interesting. They tried to take off Spike’s jacket. That wasn’t happening. He had given it to her and she was going to keep it. It was soft and warm and smelled like him. Weird smells that were as oddly familiar as everything else around her. The girls yelled and Spike appeared at her side. Gently, he coaxed her out of the jacket and into the water. She closed her eyes, murmuring softly. The water felt good.
Spike gently began to wash the mud off. At first she was afraid, the mud was her protection, her covering. His hand felt good against her skin and she relaxed. Behind her, Tara and Dawn began to chat agitatedly and then they left. Spike’s hand had run across an area of skin that made her shiver. A moan came out of the back of her throat and her eyes rolled in the back of her head. That felt amazing, and that sound…was that from her? He started to move his hand away and she panicked, grabbing it and trying to force him back to that same spot. She hadn’t felt that good in…well, ever as far as she knew. He chuckled against her ear and his lips brushed her neck as he whispered to her.
She sat perfectly still as he poured a cold, cream over her head and massaged it into her scalp. Then there was a slight tugging at her head. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable. She heard Tara come back into the room and start to tug on the other side of her head. It felt like they had been tugging at her forever, and she started to squirm in the now cold water. Finally, hands helped her to stand up and she was wrapped in softness. She buried her nose in it, trying to figure out why the smell comforted her. An image of a woman with curly hair and a smile flashed through her mind.
Tara was trying to put things on her. Things that stuck to her damp body and made her feel constricted. She tried to take them off, only to have Tara put them back on again. They compromised and Buffy was left with something over the top of her body. Her hair was dripping down the back of it, making it wet and uncomfortable.
Bored, she amused herself but drawing pictures of herself and Moyra in the steam on the mirror. Moyra. She missed him. She started to draw the pictures from her dreams, but stopped when she realized that she was, in a way, living in her dream. That thought scared her. What if this was another dream? What if she woke up in her cave? Alone?
She let Tara guide her to a sitting stool while she contemplated this latest thought, and then watched a Tara came at her from behind with the sharp object. Instinct kicked in, and she had Tara pinned to the wall in a moment. Dawn was screaming and yanking at her side. Even Spike appeared angry. Didn’t he understand that Tara was trying to kill her? When he grabbed her and forced her back, she thought that he was against her too. Desperately she tried to get out of his grip, but instead of letting go, he crushed his lips against her.
Her mind stopped working. Her last thought was that he was going to suffocate her, and she latched on to him with her teeth. He growled lowly against her and she relaxed. She opened her mouth and he slipped inside, massaging her, making all kinds of strange sensations shoot through out her body. His hands were moving over her and she leaned into his touch. He pulled away too soon. With a whimper, she tried to pull him back. He was like nothing she had every experienced before and she never wanted it to stop.
It was the red stuff that finally made her hesitate. She watched in fascination as he licked it off his lips. Her hand wiped the red stuff off her face and she stared at it curiously.
“Blood,” Spike said.
Blood. The red stuff had a name. It was called blood. She brought it to her lips to lick away, but Spike stopped her. No. No meant not to do something. She understood that. Spike was talking again, pointing at Tara and showing her hair. Oh, Tara was going to fix her hair. She smiled at her new found knowledge and sat back down on the sitting stool. Carefully, she repeated what Spike had told her and was delighted when Tara nodded.
She watched the growing pile of hair on the floor until Tara tapped her shoulder, letting her know that she was done. She ran her fingers through the shorten locks, amazed at how light it felt. Dawn led her in front of the mirror, and Buffy giggled at the reflection of herself. She looked around for Spike-he wasn’t in the mirror-and found him outside the door. She tried to wave him in front of the mirror, but he shook his head no.
Tara and Dawn led her to the stairs again and toward the argumentative group below. Conversation stopped as she appeared. They were talking too fast for her, but when Willow pointed at her hair and smiled, Buffy knew right away what she was saying.
“Tara cut,” she said proudly. “No Blood.”
There was more talking that she didn’t understand, and harsh looks being thrown about. No one was paying any attention to her, which was good because she really had to relieve herself. She glanced around the room looking for a good spot, and briefly wondered where the others went because the cave didn’t smell like urine. Maybe they went outside. Well, she wasn’t going to interrupt and ask. She had to go too badly.
They had stopped talking and were looking at her. Great. She’d messed up again. Now they were yelling again. Giles was yelling at Tara and Spike was standing in front of her. Anya finally huffed out of the room and returned with a killing stick in her hand. She handed it over.
“Stake.”
Stake. Not killing stick, a stake. She knew this. She worked with this. As she moved, she started to remember things.
“Soul…soulless…evil…stake…heart…dust,” ran through her mind. It didn’t surprise her when Spike took up a fighting stance opposite her. Their fight was familiar. She knew all the steps to this…dance. They were dancing. Another word ran through her mind. Slayer. This was what she did. Stake to the heart equals dust. She remembered this, remembered fighting with Spike sometimes to hurt sometimes not. Somehow she knew the times for hurting were long gone, saw it in his eyes.
The line kept running through her head. Soulless, evil, stake to the heart, dust. It was on repeat and she couldn’t figure out why. Something (close your eyes) tugging at the ends of her memory, something (close your eyes) that she couldn’t quite grasp. She hadn’t realized that she had stopped fighting and was in a crouched position looking up at Spike. He looked to the group, confused and she took the moment to catch him by surprise. Fight over, she won.
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Spike lay on the floor in shock at the stake that was flying toward his heart. His eyes bore into Buffy’s in surprise. At the last possible second, the stake detoured to the floor.
“Slayed. Dust now,” Buffy said as she got up.
Spike propped himself up on his elbows and stared at her. “That wasn’t funny, luv.”
Xander raised his hand. “Actually, I found that very amusing.”
“Well, good thing no one asked for your opinion then,” Spike muttered.
“Well, at least she remembers how to fight,” Giles said.
“Yes, and I was the one who gave her the stake. I think you should all remember that,” Anya said.
“Yes, yes, we won’t forget that,” Giles replied.
“Okay, good. As long as I get credit,” Anya told him. “I’m tired. Can Xander take me home now?”
Dawn tried to stifle a yawn, but Willow saw it. “Yeah, I think it’s bedtime for all of us.”
“I’m not tired,” Dawn protested.
“Oh, sure. So that wasn’t a yawn, you were getting ready to practice your yodeling, right?” Tara teased.
“Yep, I am yodeling girl,” Dawn replied.
“Well, yodelay yourself on up to bed then,” Willow said, gently pushing Dawn toward the stairs.
“M’kay. Just one thing though.” And with that, Dawn ran over to her sister and threw her arms around her. “Missed you, Buffy.”
“Dawn.” Buffy slowly brought her hand up to Dawn’s hair and ghosted over it. Then she picked up each of Dawn’s arms, turned them over, and placed chaste kisses on the wrists. “No blood,” she whispered.
The whole room went silent as they watched the exchange.
“No, Buffy,” Dawn said, tears sliding down her face. “No b-blood. Good night.” Dawn turned and ran up the stairs.
“Wow! That was just…wow!” Willow breathed.
“I think…I think we should all get some rest. Tomorrow we should focus on helping to re-assimilate Buffy into our society,” Giles announced.
“Are we also going to try and figure out where she was? ‘Cause maybe that will help us help her?” Tara said.
“Yes…I think we shall break into groups. One group working with Buffy and the other doing research,” Giles said, rubbing his eyes.
“I’ll help Buffy. I’m good at that. I helped her with the stake,” Anya announced as she dragged Xander to the door. “Goodnight all!”
Xander managed a quick call of “night” before disappearing out the door. Giles followed him biding the girls and Spike goodnight.
“Spike, you’re welcome to stay here on the couch if you like,” Tara offered.
“Thanks, Glinda.” Spike was watching Buffy. Her eyes were still focused on where Dawn had run up the stairs and he wondered what she was thinking.
“I’ll find sheets,” Willow said and walked upstairs as Tara began to struggle with the pull out couch.
“Sorry, pet, lemme help.” Spike bent down and pulled the bed out in one smooth motion.
“Oh, thanks. I-I’ll get the curtains.”
“Sorry Spike. All we have is some old Strawberry Shortcake sheets. Hope they’ll do,” Willow said, holding the sheets up for inspection.
She and Tara quickly set the bed up.
“Okay, you should be good. The curtains are closed and I locked the door, so no one will come in unannounced,” Willow said. “Oh, plus I put a little spell on the curtains so that no one can open them unless I say so.”
“Thanks, Red, ‘ppreciate it.” Spike sat down on the lumpy bed and watched Tara try to coax Buffy upstairs. She hesitated for a moment, looking over to Spike, but finally followed the girl up the stairs. Spike curled up on the bed and pulled a pillow into his arms. He inhaled the scent of the sheets deeply. The sheets must have been Buffy’s at one point because he could faintly detect her smell on them. There were other scents on there as well, but none that he could pick up on. It would be awhile before sleep claimed him. His mind kept replaying the events of the night. Especially the kiss he and Buffy had shared. He groaned as he grew hard at the memory of his tongue brushing against hers. Desperately he tried to adjust himself into a different position, but his mind became focused on her moan when his fingers had accidentally brushed against her. It was going to be a long night.
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Buffy followed Tara back up the stairs. At first she thought they would go back into the room with the water, but Tara turned into a different doorway.
“Bedroom,” Tara said slowly. “Buffy’s bedroom. Your bedroom.”
“Bed-room,” Buffy repeated slowly as she walked around the room. She sat down on the bed. Soft, so soft. She brought the pillow up to her nose and inhaled. It smelled familiar. She brought her hair to her nose and sniffed. Oh, same smell. She held the pillow against her head.
Tara giggled and walked over. She pulled the covers down and climbed into the bed, demonstrating how to lie down. Buffy followed her example, but sat up again when Tara got up.
“No, this is your room Buffy. Mine is next door,” Tara motioned with her hand. She watched as Buffy lay back on the bed. “Night. Willow and I are next door if you need us.”
Buffy watched as Tara left the room. “Bedroom,” she repeated to herself. “Buffy bedroom.” She stood up and started to walk around the room. There was another door that led to a small room filled with things similar to what she was wearing. She started to pull them out to inspect them. Some of them were pretty and she put them on. Hmm, they made it hard to move.
Her stomach started to make noises just a she made it over to the dresser. She needed to find food. Slowly, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was completely dark. She followed the wall to the stairs and walked down. There was a weird noise coming from the place where Spike was, and she crept closer to him. She heard him whisper her name.
“Spike,” she answered.
He sat up, his eyes wide with surprised. “Buffy, er, luv, what are you doing up?” he asked as he took in her appearance. She had on three shirts and a dress.
She cocked her head to one side and approached him, but he just pulled the blankets tighter around himself. She sighed and was about to say something when her stomach made the noise again.
“Oh,” Spike said. “Hungry, are ya? Well, best see what we can find in the kitchen.” He fumbled under the blanket a second before getting out of bed and leading her into the kitchen. He nudged her into one of the stools at the island, and opened the fridge to pull out the pizza that Willow had ordered earlier and then forgot about. He warmed it in the microwave and set it in front of her. “Pizza,” he said. “Mushroom and pepperoni, your favorite.”
Buffy stared down at the three slices on her plate and then looked at him in confusion.
“You eat it,” Spike said. “Food, see.” He picked up a piece and bit into it. “You try.”
Buffy took the piece from him and sniffed it before taking a bite. A huge smile lit up her face as she swallowed, and she quickly set to work demolishing the several slices in front of her. When she had finished, Spike put her dishes in the sink and led her back to the stairs.
“Go back to bed now,” he said, gently pushing her toward the stairs. Buffy didn’t move. “Come on, luv, time for all good Slayers to go nighty night.”
Buffy grabbed his hand. “Buffy room,” she said, tugging slightly.
“You want…you want me to go with you to your room?”
“Buffy room,” she insisted and pulled him up the stairs with her.
Spike swallowed thickly, but followed her into the room. Oh, bloody hell, she was pulling him into bed with her. “Wait, luv…”
Buffy smiled and began to take off her clothing.
“Oh, hell,” Spike closed his eyes. When he opened them, Buffy was lying naked under the covers. She gestured at him to come closer, and he slid onto the bed next to her. He paused a moment, wondering if he should leave his jeans on. She probably wasn’t ready to deal with the, er, any of that yet, but there she was tugging at his waist. “Uh, Buffy, not that I don’t want to ‘cause you know, evil vamp and all, not feeling much guilt about this, but…oh, sod it.” He unzipped his jeans and kicked them onto the floor.
Buffy looked at him in curiosity. She ran a finger down his pale chest, and delighted in the small noise he made in the back of his throat. Her fingers continued the exploration, and Buffy watched the way Spike bit his lip when she touched certain areas. She remember how good it felt when he had touched her inner thigh, and brushed her hand over his.
“God, Buffy,” Spike moaned, thrusting into her a bit.
She leaned forward and pushed her lips against his, and he responded by pulling her close to him. His tongue gently slid its way into her mouth as his hands trailed up and down her body. It felt so good and she wanted nothing more then to let it continue, but the whole day had finally taken its toll.
Spike didn’t know what to think when she stopped kissing him and pushed him onto his back. He knew this whole thing was wrong but he’d waited so long and it felt so good, better then any of his fantasies. His golden goddess was next to him and he could smell her, taste her, and if he got any harder, his dick was going to fall off.
Buffy leaned over him and kissed his lips again. Spike lifted his hand so that he could hold her head to his, but the kiss was over too quickly. She smiled at him before curling up on her side, tucking her head under his chin, and draping one arm across his chest. Her breathing quickly evened out and Spike realized that she had fallen asleep. He bit back a groan of disappointment and wrapped his arm around her. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. She smelled good. His fingers stroked down her hair and across her neck. What the…Spike frowned and brushed the hair off her neck. There were two tiny pin prick scars on her neck. They looked like bite marks. Why the hell did Buffy have bite marks?
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