Chapter Three by Megan
Deep moans pushed through the slackening barriers of her lips as Buffy writhed on her bed. Her coverings were tangled as she moved in enthused agreement to her dream actions.
She could feel the cold of his belly as it pressed against her, sending prickles of arousal bursting from every pore. This was so much better than her first plan of stake first, regret later. As usual, Spike had stolen her thunder by a melodramatic display of suicidal tendencies. Well, she’d put a stop to that. Discarded the nasty piece of wood to the other side of the crypt with a determined flick of the wrist.
His lips on her throat burned so good, hurt so good, and Buffy found herself pulsing in frantic fear that it would end too soon. That if she didn’t take him now, he’d disappear into the ether like so many of the other shots of testosterone that had passed through her life.
So she grabbed, curled her fingers tightly in his hair and held him in place. Feeling some total lack of fear at the proximity of his teeth to her flesh. It didn’t even have a hint of wrong, and after Angel that was whole cupfuls of bad. And despite her arousal, or perhaps in spite of it, thoughts raced through her mind like they were Willow on the edge of a caffeine buzz. But each and every one led her closer to his body, arching her back so that her bare skin bumped and rubbed against his, the friction causing a flush so deep that her body shook with reaction.
God, his mouth was amazing, and beautiful, and he was gorgeous and hot, and cold too in the best possible way. The need intensified and she wanted him desperately to kiss her, remind her of the bliss she had been swept away under the guise of his loving kiss.
And then she realised the truth. Nothing on earth could ever be clearer.
“Spike,” she worshipped his name breathlessly. “I want…you…I love you.”
Her eyes sparkled with threatening tears of indecision as he dragged himself away abruptly to look at her, waiting a beat before allowing a smile to tug at his lips. No smirk, a smile, beautiful in its sincerity.
“Me too, pet. I love you, too.” It was sealed with a kiss as Buffy drifted lazy but satisfied from the dream.
Before commonsense could take hold, Buffy sat up in her bed, morning sunlight bursting through her window like a message of good faith from God. A sign of approval. And then Buffy recalled exactly what she felt she required that benediction for. Her smile slipped fractionally, but then images, still so incredibly vivid bombarded her inner eye and she almost squealed with the memory.
There was just so much yumminess, and the love…THE LOVE?!
Buffy bolted upright, staring at her open window and almost cursing the singing birds that emphasised her thumping heartbeat. She loved Spike. Evil Spike. Spike who’d tried to kill her over and over again. Spike who had almost achieved it through kissing her senseless—not just the previous year, but yesterday.
Buffy felt her fingers whisper across her lips, and instead of the grimace of disgust she should have been expecting, a smile took her unawares and left her giddy with anticipation.
She was in love with Spike. Now there was a dilemma to wake up to.
Until another dilemma conked it on the head.
Riley. Boyfriend Riley. Sweet, loveable, whom she did not love…Ri…whoa, she didn’t love Riley?
Buffy was silent, not allowing even the smallest movement of her body distract her from this revelation. He annoyed her beyond the prospect of accidentally applying her peach lipstick with her favourite khaki top. He irked her more than the worst oozing, pustule-covered demon in the middle of a hailstorm.
So, yeah. That conclusion kind of fit. But still, he was normal, and normal was what Buffy was doing these days.
With the calm acceptance of what path her future would take, Buffy flopped backwards on her pillow and pushed her newest revelation to the back of her mind.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Something niggled at the edge of her subconscious while she set out the spell components. Something so familiar that it settled comfortably in her radar and so often slipped through unnoticed. Buffy hadn’t yet taken notice, but the signature Spike emitted no longer screamed vampire to her slayer.
Something else was screaming at her right now, something she couldn’t help but take notice of and wish she could slay without repercussions. Big, hulking Riley…all with the ‘woe is me now I’m not an artificially super-strong soldier with a boring sexual repertoire that needs his feelings specially coddled.’ She tried, she really did, but when things got so bad she had to get him to pour sand in a circle around her just to make him feel…well, not loved, but wanted…it got to be a bit exhausting.
She had never felt more like kissing him the moment he bought a clue to his lack of actually being needed, and left for other things. Buffy had a spell to perform, and with her head being torn between her mother’s illness and her newfound horror that she loved another vampire, the needy boyfriend routine was just another concern she didn’t have the time for.
Sitting in the middle of her sandy circle, the time ticked on. Her heartbeat slowed to a not quite sleep, but restful in meditation. Everything around her faded out, including that persistent niggle that indicated she should be paying attention to something. Everything blended until day turned to night and her eyes sprung back open, the world now a fuzzy daze to her wandering gaze.
The first thing she noticed was a small thump in her closet. Showing no fear but succumbing to a world of confusion, Buffy marched toward the sound and threw open the doors, somehow not even surprised when Spike’s lean limbs had him fall and sprawl at her feet. Without words or thought, she hauled him to his heavy boots, kept hold of his hand and then pulled him out of her room. He seemed to understand her need for quiet, for concentration as she viewed her house with unveiled eyes.
Puzzlement headed toward fear as things that she thought she knew became hazy and absent, before flashing back into her world. A room filled with junk became an established bedroom, photos of two became three, and through it all, she gripped hold of Spike’s hand like he was life itself. Dawn wasn’t what she was supposed to be, and the only explanation was that she was here to do something to her mother. Though Joyce was clear, not surrounded by any of the weirdo here-one-minute, gone-the-next images.
She didn’t feel herself when she attacked Dawn, pushed beyond the arm of Spike as he tried to restrain her fear-fuelled violence, despite clutching his head from the twinges. Pushed beyond the feeling that she was being cruel and unjust to her sister. Giles called and she was off, leaving behind her a confused and angry teen that would be left alone possibly with her mother unless she acted fast.
Spike followed.
“What the bloody hell was that, Slayer?”
The cool night seemed to loosen the haze that hung around and altered the way she saw things. She didn’t have the time though, needed to be somewhere.
“It was a spell; to help me see if magic had been cast somehow and was hurting my mom.” The tears that squeezed from her eyes were enough to soften his ire, and he reached once again for her hand.
“Okay, pet. We’ll talk about it later. Where are we off to now?”
“You’re coming with me?” she asked him, and cringed at the hope that coloured the plea.
“Well, the enormous hall monitor seems to be a tad absent, and this lady seems in need of a chaperone…so yeah, guess I am.”
It was said with a smile, and a gentle squeeze of her hand, reassuring through touch as well as the depth of his voice. Still feeling a little shaky with the aftereffects of the spell, Buffy was grateful. Not that she was going to tell him that. Instead, defensive Buffy came out to play.
“What are you doing here, Spike?” Then the fun part of his presence occurred to her. “What were you doing in my closet? Please don’t tell me you were sniffing my clothes!”
Please, tell me you were sniffing my clothes. She felt the flash of heat through her body at the thought, craving the reality of it more than she would ever admit to anyone, least of all Spike. Never to Spike. Because she had to hide her feelings for him, and the best way she knew how was to resort to violence.
The crack against his nose didn’t even hurt her—much!
“Ow! Bloody hell. What’d you do that for?”
“Again—and less with the moody silence—what are you doing here?” He didn’t rush to open his mouth and bombard her with excuses. She let loose with an exasperated groan. “Five words or less.”
His eyes flashed with anger and a little inspired evil as he wriggled his way out of this one. Holding his fingers up and preparing to count down his speech. “Out. For. A. Walk.” A short pause. “Bitch!” he exclaimed with a satisfied bend to his knee for that added bouncy emphasis.
Buffy’s eyes widened in amusement.
“You were out walking in my closet? On the spot, for what? A couple of hours while I was meditating? No one has time for this, William.” Her voice was rising with her level of disbelief, emphasis on his human name enough to make her think she kind of liked it.
“”Well, yeah!” He looked at her like she had rocks in her head for not believing every pristine word he said. “You know, contrary to one's self-involved world-view, your house happens to be directly between parts... and other parts of this town.”
“Uh huh,” she encouraged with an incredulous tap of her foot. “You were just out strolling. During the day. And how did you end up in my closet again?”
“Well, obviously I haven’t outgrown my whole ‘burst into flame’ phase. Was burning by, thought I’d say hello to your mum, and…there you have it.”
“And my closet features in this little jaunt of yours how?”
She giggled at his clenching jaw, his struggle to think of another excuse too much for her after she had admitted to herself that she loved him. These kinds of harmless acts of evil were exactly the things that instigated the event.
“Oh bloody hell. So, you caught me. I was sniffing your clothes. You know, know your enemy and what all.”
He stiffened his body waiting for the second slug to his nose, and was mystified when instead her lips formed a wide smile.
“Okay,” she told him as she took his hand again and tugged him along the path.
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