Hero
Parts 4-6
Written by: Baby Blues
Summary: An Alternative Universe. Buffy and Spike, thief and ex mistress, are in love and running from a large criminal mind who wants his money, and his woman, back. (Inspired by the music video ‘Hero’ with Enrique Inglesias and Jennifer Love Hewitt)
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Dedication: To Jacob, who finally asked me out on a date today. *Sigh*
Feedback: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Chapter 4: Girls
//I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away//
Angel stared down at the impaired keys intently, a cigarette between his lips. He blew out a smoke, the wispy white clouds surrounding him like a cloud of deathly inhibitions.
He winced slightly at the stinging it caused his eyes, but neither complained or waved it away.
His men lounged about, waiting for their leader’s next orders patiently as they smoked their own cigarettes.
Buffy and Spike had just been here, and only just recently.
The money was gone. In its place was a photo of the pair kissing just outside the diminutive and vacant building.
Angel punched the keys hard, the out-of-tune sound wafting in the air like a ballad from an angered man who was out for blood.
His men got quiet as they stared at him expectantly, predicting the very worst. Angel got like that, his anger controlled the evilness in him. That’s why they respected him and followed his orders without question. They would rather do that than die in his carnal brutality.
Angel grabbed his leather jacket next to him and stared at his workforce, eyeing them steadily with cold brown eyes.
"We find them. I don’t care how, but we find them," he said through clenched teeth.
"Sir, we don’t even know where to start," Dalton said in his New York accent.
"They couldn’t have gone far," Angel snapped, "The boy at the gas station said that they had been there an hour before we came."
He stared at the empty desert that laid before them in bright colors of orange and gold. "They’re close . . . " he nodded, a sense of knowing confirming his calculation, "And when we get them, they’ll pay."
A rumble of quiet cheers and harsh chuckles went around the group as they shot each other a look of pure viciousness.
"Just remember," he said, staring at each of them dangerously. "The girl is mine," he practically growled, "Harm a hair on her head . . . and you’ll die a most painful death."
//Would you swear, that you'll always be mine?
Would you lie, would you remember?//
Spike parked the convertible in the parking lot a small hotel called Roy’s Motel. "It’s not much," he said, "But it’ll do for tonight."
Buffy nodded as he opened the door for her, being the perfect gentleman that he was.
The desert sun was setting quite nicely in the horizon. The bright colors of yellow, gold, and red glowed brilliantly against the darkening sky. This was the desert at night. A picture worth remembering.
They entered the cooling lobby of the motel, hand in hand. The sound of a single fan above their head squeaked over them in like an annoying and broken record.
The girl behind the counter looked up from her magazine and quirked an eyebrow at the couple.
Her hair was bright blond and was up in a bun with a few nappy strand surrounding her face caked with more makeup than what Cindy Crawford would probably used within a year.
It was an amazing surprise that she wasn’t a hooker or a prostitute by her looks, but maybe it was only a night time job. After all, it was a bit too early for that. The sun was still setting.
"What can do for ya?" she asked, blowing up a pink bubble gum as she looked Spike over with her big blue eyes that was a large contrast from her dark eye makeup that was a mixture of black and dark blue and purple.
Buffy glared at her and gripped Spike’s hand a bit tighter and cuddled up next to him purposely, showing her ownership of the hunk next to her. The bleach blond smirked and squeezed her hand in reassurance. There was no way in hell he’d trade this Barbie for his.
"Yeah, we’d like to get a room. It said outside that there’s still a vacancy," Spike said.
Hooker Barbie smiled, showing off yellow teeth that had been stained throughout the years by cigarettes. "British I see," she stated, typing on the computer as she gnawed on her gum.
"Yep," Spike smiled, giving Buffy a warm smile.
"Married?" the girl asked.
"Soon," Spike answered, gazing at Buffy with love in his cornflower blue eyes. "Very soon," he added, causing Buffy to smile back at him.
The girl frowned. "Well, call me if you want a witness," she said cheerfully.
Spike chuckled and placed a few hundred dollar bills on the counter for their room expense. "Yeah, maybe," he replied and took the keys from her hands and walking off into the hall to find their room.
"Hey! If ya guys are interested, I do three-somes for a hundred bucks an hour!" the girl yelled after them.
Buffy stopped dead on her tracks and stared at the giggling woman and gave her a sarcastic smirk. "We wouldn’t pay you to take off clothes, sweetie . . . so don’t even bother."
The girl blinked and then smiled impishly. "I could keep your honey warmer than you, little girl."
"No one . . . And I mean no one," Spike repeated, "Can keep me warmer than Buffy," he said and grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and pulled her into their room before a catfight broke loose within the motel lobby.
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter 5: Good
//My angel be, have I lost my mind?
I don't care, you're here tonight//
Buffy jumped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as she quietly fumed. "I can't believe she said that," she growled through clenched teeth.
Spike smiled at her flushed face and placed their bag by the door. He looked around the room. It was fairly large with a huge mural of the desert sands on the far left wall where the headboard of the bed was. Right by it was a nightstand and a clock that read 5:30pm. On the opposite side was the bathroom and in front of him was a large window that shed in the light of the setting sun.
He grabbed the black bag where all the money was in, smiled, and threw it at her. She caught it with a smile of her own as she dug her hands inside and threw the paper bills in the air to let it float back down on her like a green rainfall.
Spike leaned against the door, arms crossed casually against his chest as he watched Buffy, bathed in the light as she glowed a dramatic color of gold.
Her eyes were closed, her long dark lashes fanning her face like exotic fans from the east. She was my the most beautiful sight in his eyes. Utterly lovely in words he could never describe.
She arched up and gazed at him with heated eyes and Spike suddenly became very attentive. Tension licked the hot air that surrounded them, and he watched with lust hooded eyes as a drop of sweat made it's way down past her neck and between the hills of her cleavage.
Spike groaned, his manhood hardening uncomfortably beneath his black denim jeans.
Buffy smirked at his situation and slowly, and very deliberately, took off her shirt, revealing a thin white tank top that was thin enough to show off the dark color of her nipples.
Spike clenched and unclenched his jaws, trying to control himself and not pounce on her like a cat and pound her into the mattress so she couldn't walk for days.
But he didn't . . . not yet anyways.
Buffy laid back down on the bed, undoing the button and the zipper of her skirt. She bit her lip and slowly pushed it down her hips, gracefully rising from the bed as she did so. She threw it at him and he barely caught in his hands before he finally started walking towards her with forced casualness.
"You're making this very hard, pet," he groaned as his eyes glazed over with even more lust as he studied her in nothing but her top and denim bikini shorts.
She pouted and gently ran her fingers inside his jean clad thighs. "Awww, is little spiky," she cupped his balls and he closed his eyes, " . . . not comfy?"
"Damn you," he cursed at her with a smile, knowing he had lost this game of who would give into desire first.
"You and me, baby," she smirked wickedly, "You and me."
Spike crushed his lips against her and she moaned beneath the punishing yet erotic feel of him. His hands traveled up her creamy smooth legs before his fingers touched the apex between her legs.
She moaned softly and arched against his touch, wanting and needing more.
//I can be your hero baby
I can kiss away the pain//
Spike smirked and with deliberate slowness, moved the intruding piece of cloth down her legs. He threw it behind him and smiled impishly before finally plunged two fingers in Buffy’s scorching wet depths.
Her eyes shut tightly as her back arched off the bed. Her hands trembled as they slowly traveled down her body, grasping at his wrist as she rode his fingers, pushing his hand deeper into her as she continually cried out from the utter pleasure.
Spike watched as a mixture emotions washed over Buffy’s face in a beautiful orchestra of passion.
She stared up at him with large hazel eyes. "I want you inside me . . . now," she gasped.
And that was all it took for Spike to finally strip down to nothing. Buffy watched with admiration and desire as his muscles rippled under his alabaster skin.
She shivered slightly from anticipation before Spike jumped onto the bed. He lifted her white top from her body and quickly latched onto one of her breasts, biting and suckling at the sweet flesh.
"Spike," she gasped, feeling his erection against her dripping womanhood. "Please," she begged.
Spike’s jaws clenched in controlled eagerness as he positioned himself to enter her. And in one fierce thrust, he was inside her liquid warmth, driving inside her in a fast yet slow pace that caused every single one of their nerve endings to tingle from the sheer satisfaction.
Everything and everyone disappeared around them . . . and it was just the two of them; kissing and floating.
There was no man named Angel after them, out for their blood. There was nothing and no one who could get in their world.
And that was all that mattered.
The melted together as he continued to push into her with a force that she was willing to receive . . . what she wanted to receive. She grasped his arms in hurry, crying his name out like an urgent prayer.
They gasped and saw a blinding light that quickly consumed them both, surrounding them . . . warming them, and pulling them in total bliss.
They rose together, still connected, as they both exploded in pleasure.
Fire consumed their bodies, heating their insides as they convulsed together. Spike shooting his seed deep within her body, and Buffy’s slender body instinctively accepting it.
The platinum blonde collapsed on top of her as they panted, sweat dripping from their sleek bodies. Spike cushioned his head against her breasts as they waited for their breaths to calm.
"That was . . . "
"Bloody good."
"Well . . . I was going to say ‘intense,’ but that’ll work too."
Spike just laughed, and Buffy soon followed.
* * * * * * * * *
Chapter 6: Burn
//I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away//
Buffy stepped out of the small bathroom of their motel room, after her a hot shower which she sadly had alone. Her hair was dried, golden curls bouncing lightly off of her smooth shoulders. She was dressed back in her bikini shorts and white top, not wanting to bother pulling something out from her bag *again.*
She stopped on her tracks as Spike lit a hundred dollar bill at the foot of the bed, smirking as the fire blazed and consumed the paper.
Buffy quirked a delicate eyebrow and joined her lover on the divan, kissing his neck as they both watched the fire lick the innocent piece of paper, the face of Benjamin quickly dissolving into ash.
"You find this amusing?" Buffy asked, trailing more kisses on Spike’s cheek and soft and pouty lips.
The platinum blond grinned and grabbed her hips, making her squeal in surprise as he pounced on her. Buffy’s golden hair fell in soft waves off the bed as Spike nipped and licked at her neck and collarbone.
His lover moaned his name.
"I love you," Spike whispered.
"I love you too," Buffy replied breathlessly.
He rested his head underneath her chin, listening to the soft beating of her heart. He fought the way it lulled him to sleep; of the simple way it calmed him. It gave him a sense of tranquility . . . and he was not set on loosing against it. He had fought many battles in the past, almost lost his life more than a few times, and the soft sound of her heart would not beat him into submission. But as Spike continued to listen to it in wonder, he finally gave in and closed his eyes.
His embrace unconsciously tightened around her as she softly tangled her fingers through his short locks, gently massaging his scalp with a sense of allurement. He sighed happily, never wanting to let go of this woman who had captured his soul . . . and his entire being and surrounded herself with it.
And she had done the same to him, enveloping him like a cocoon of love and serenity.
He never wanted to leave her arms . . . never wanted to leave her.
She was like his delicate moonbeam . . . so bright and enchanting, so fragile and yet so strong. He was afraid that at any moment she would disappear and leave him once again, alone and in the darkness . . . but he didn’t want that. He wanted to keep her forever.
"Marry me," Spike suddenly stated, lifting his head to meet her eyes.
"What?" Buffy exclaimed, sitting up and staring at Spike’s serious and intense blues orbs.
"Marry me," he repeated.
"You’re joking . . . right?" Buffy asked worriedly.
"You don’t want to marry me?" Spike countered back with a frown.
"I didn’t say that . . . " she said uneasily.
"Then marry me."
She gazed at his intense eyes. He was dead serious, no doubt about that. Spike never teased about things as momentous as marriage. And no matter how much she wanted to forget about the world and become his wife and bare loads of children, they just couldn’t. Not when Angel was after them for revenge . . . and God knows what else. "Spike . . . " she began.
"Do you love me?" Spike asked urgently, grasping her hands in his.
"You know I do . . . " Buffy said distraughtly.
"But . . . "
"It’s not the right time," she cried, tear threatening to spill from her eyes, "When we get married, I want to be able to know that you‘re gonna right by me the next day. Still smiling like a cocky bastard . . . still alive and breathing."
Spike closed his eyes and kissed the flesh of her knuckles. "I will always be here, luv" he assured her with sincere blue eyes, "Don’t doubt that. But I can’t waste another minute without you as my wife."
"Spike . . . "
"Buffy, I look at you and I see my future," he stated, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, "You’re all I see . . . and you’re all I bloody want. You’re all that matters in my life from now on ‘til the day I die."
A lone tear streamed down from her eyes as she stared at the man who had given her everything she could ever want: Comfort and love, laughter and devotion. He was everything she could ever ask for and more.
"Say you’ll marry me," he whispered against her lips.
"I’ll marry you," Buffy breathed.
Spike smiled and kissed her cheek, embracing her tighter as he rested his chin on the crook of her neck. "That’s my girl," he said softly.
//Ohhh I just wanna hold you
I just wanna hold you, oh yeah//
Angel squinted as the sun glared bright above him. An inferno that ultimately gave life . . . and took it as well. He was sick of the desert, and most of all, sick of looking for Buffy and Spike.
But he was not going to tire that easily . . . or admit defeat. Spike was going to pay for his betrayal . . . of taking him and what he owned for granted, as well as believing that he would never find out.
The dark handsome man almost laughed at the thought.
Spike was a man who had been toughened through years of living in dirt. The British asshole was a common beggar with nothing to loose except his life, something he would’ve eventually lost if he stayed out in the harsh streets of Britain any longer. Angel had given the younger man in. Given him money and a place to call home, taught him the ways of a thief.
The training and the new life he soon found himself in toughened him up even more . . . but one thing was sure, Spike was still a typical romantic. A man who had dreams of a bright future, of white picket fences, and a family to go along with it.
Angel flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it beneath his feet, calmly, but angrily pushing it down on the dust covered ground.
Spike’s price would be death. No second thoughts. The bleach blond might be his most excellent thief, but going behind his back was something Angel was not easily going to forgive.
And Buffy . . .
He almost smiled at what Buffy would go through in his hands. She would pay . . . just like Spike, maybe not in death, but definitely in his bed.
Years of deceit and promises of her utter love and devotion to him was all a bunch of bullshit. He taught her well in the game of deception. Too well actually. After all, she wanted to keep her life . . . as well as her lover’s. And lying to the man who owned her was a requirement to continue on living.
She was a smart one . . . his Buffy. Born in a highly proclaimed family in California, she was promised to a son of a wealthy business man. She ran away after graduating high school, not wanting to be a typical rich man’s trophy wife.
That was when Angel ran into her. He was completely mesmerized by her beauty and timeless innocence. He took her in, and slowly she became his queen. He treated her like royalty . . .
Angel frowned.
And at that exact moment . . . he finally realized that that was just what she was running away from.
Years of living in high society, being treated like a princess, just a pretty girl with a good name, caused her to run from her life. Of course if he treated her the exact same way, she’d run from him as well. But she didn’t *literally* run, she just moved into the arms of a man who treated her like a woman and a friend, not a goddess or a higher being. A man who didn’t cage her in like he did.
"They’re not in there, boss," one of his lackeys informed him breathlessly, stirring Angel out of his revelation.
He gazed at the sign of Roy’s Motel and gritted his teeth.
"What did you find?" he asked.
"The girl in the front desk said that they left late in the morning," the small man replied.
"Where?"
"She doesn’t know."
Before the minion could do or say anything, Angel had him by the collar of his shirt and a few inches off the ground. Angel’s face was inches from his as he said through clenched teeth, "Find out! Get as much information as you can! I want them found and I want them found now!"
"But boss . . . " one of them began to protest.
Angel took out his gun and shot him on the spot.
A deadly silence followed as he looked around, daring anyone else to disagree with him and what he wanted. "We find them . . . Now!" he roared, his jacket flapping against the wind.
Continued...
Back to Fiction: By Alpha ~
Back to Fiction: By Season