Summary:Buffy invites Spike to join in a role play game.
Disclaimer: I do not own the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel (The Series). All of the characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al.
Feedback: ladyanne@wickedenergy.net
Chapter 1
Spike leaned his head wearily back against the cold concrete wall of the school basement. His moments of sanity came and went these days. He never knew when the battle inside would rage again and send him teetering to the edge of sanity. So little of the day truly made sense - between the soul’s guilt over his past transgressions, and the true evil he knew crawled in and out of his consciousness, he wondered how much longer would pass before something broke irreparably deep within.
Footsteps echoed in the cavernous environment of the basement as someone neared the corner he’d laid claim to. Almost he wished for something to engulf him again, the soul’s torment or the evil’s madness, just so he could avoid the interaction with whichever member of the Scoobies had returned to seek out his services again. They were so much easier to deal with when he peered at them from behind the veil of his madness. Except for her. Why does a man do what he musn’t? For her... and speaking of the devil or in this case, his goddess, his Guinevere, here she was in all her effulgent glory.
"Buffy," he greeted, rising to his feet from the half-crouched position he had meditatively been in for the last few hours.
"Spike," she returned.
Her face betrayed her and he felt a slight jolt as he realized there was concern in her expression that seemed to be directed at him.
"Spike, will you walk with me," she asked. "Just outside, to the courtyard? It’s late and I waited until the other staff cleared out." She turned and began to walk away, as though she had no doubt he would follow at her request, but suddenly stopped and faced him again.
"Please."
Spike sighed and hoped the sanity remained just a little longer as he followed her out of the basement and into the moonlit courtyard of the school.
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy sat on a bench and waited until Spike tentatively seated himself at the other end before starting.
"Spike, I don’t know were to begin. I needed a few days to think, after what happened in the church."
"I wasn’t entirely myself, or at least myself was not entirely together that night," he replied, hoping to prevent some deep exploration of his new status he knew he wasn’t ready to discuss with her.
"Well, that’s the thing." Buffy stared at the foliage behind his head for a long moment, then drew herself up with a determined face. "Spike, you can’t stay here."
"What, Slayer, I’m not hurting anyone here." He could feel the somewhat conflicting sensations of anger from his demon and sadness from his soul that he had once again failed the Buffy test in some indefinable way by his mere existence.
"No." Buffy’s face softened, ever so slightly and her hand reached out to touch his arm. Wow, he seems smaller and less threatening without the coat somehow, I have to remehould do this, but it was time to face the past and move into the future. She stopped at her destination - Spike’s old crypt. She paused at the door, but somehow, going back inside seemed wrong. Instead, she clambered up on the roof and stared at the moon as she weighed the balance of scales.
Last year had been both hard and confusing. In retrospect, there had been so many mistakes she had made, but all things considered, turning to Spike had not been one of them. Their execution had been horrible, but Buffy knew, had it not been for Spike as her anchor, death would have found before the start of 2002. Sweet’s spell, a random vamp, someone would have had their one good day if she hadn’t had Spike to turn to, to talk to and later to make her feel.
But despite his utter devotion to her, despite his adoration and support, she’d known, deep down, that their relationship was unacceptable. Her stint with Angel and their star-crossed affair had shown that unlike a corn-fed Iowa boy, a vampire for a lover would always be met with suspicion, even when he had a soul.
Ultimately, her mental musings had always came full circle last year. She was choosing between the love of an imperfect creature and the acceptance of her friends and her calling. No good Slayer would be involved with not one, but two vamps, right? Of course not.
But, underlying these musings on the past was the knowledge that there was a new factor for her to weigh that wasn’t in play the year before. Spike had earned a soul for her. The rules from before, even with regards to Angel, were now new and different. The immensity of that act still boggled her mind and humbled her, that he would do such a thing to be worthy of her. She had been so confused after the horrible incident in the bathroom. No one deserved what she went through, but always, in the back of her mind, she’d had a nagging fear that somehow the atrocity he had forced on her was a karmic return of what she had done to him. And now, knowing how far he gone to remedy that wrong, she could only wonder if the fatal flaw in any future relationship lay with her and not him.
Her mind drifted back to the past February....
Chapter 3
The incident with Katrina and Warren, the time shifters, her horrific beating of Spike and Tara’s revelation that she was fundamentally the same person as before . . . all of it blurred together in its terrible remembrance. Buffy had felt like she was grasping at anything and her couplings with Spike had reached an intensity that frightened her. He was bringing her into the dark, but she’d wanted it so much.
In those quiet, shadowed, unholy places, she could put away the troubles of her minimum wage job, her troubled best friend, the bickering of the soon to be wed couple and the terrible parenting job she had done with Dawn. His touch, the feel of his body sliding against hers. The sweat, the friction, everything was intense beyond any sexual encounter she’d ever had before him.
Any time he’d wanted to slow down, to worship her body, to engage in gentle teasing foreplay with soft caresses and murmurs of his love, she’d reacted badly, to put it mildly. Only when he was hard and brutal and dark with her would she allow his attention, or in some cases, demand it. She still remembered the day he told her she was an animal, and her indignation at his statement. But somewhere, after her weeping confession to Tara, she’d known that he was partly right.
She wasn’t a demon. She was still fundamentally Buffy, but Buffy 1.0 and 2.0 had both had a thing for the dark side. Just a little, not a Faithesque fascination, but she did like a little monster in her man. She had liked to see the monster in Spike when they were together. As long as he was the monster and she was an animal, clawing, biting and giving as good as she got, then as real as it felt, as much as it recharged her batteries, it wasn’tmber to ask if he wants it back. The coat remained in the hall closet at the Summers house, an object that Buffy had only looked at rarely when the anger or longing became too much.
"Spike, I think this place is hurting you. It’s on the Hellmouth, you know that. I think it’s feeding your," Buffy paused, returning to her internal dialogue. Should she say madness, why the heck not, he had mentioned it himself several times. "Your nuttiness."
"If you’ll leave with me, we’ll take you back to your crypt or, maybe you could stay with Xander, he’s living alone now, or..." Buffy stopped.
She should have had a more definite idea and plan before she came down those stairs. But her talk with Willow and the struggles she’d faced had brought Spike’s frail state to the fore again. She knew, deep inside, that she still had a few things to face before they were healed as well. Sitting at her desk all day, listening to the woes of adolescents ranging from the absurd to the truly disturbing, she had found her mind wandering to the vampire with a soul who had taken up residence in the basement. She couldn’t leave him alone to be tormented, even after what had happened between them. He was her Lancelot. She sighed. One day, she would have to face certain memories that she had pushed aside during the summer, when her focus had been on Dawn and Xander and reconnecting with life, but not yet with love. But for now, she knew she needed to help heal this broken man, her former lover and friend. She suddenly realized she had zoned out and found Spike gazing at her with that awed look he seemed to get at times these days.
"... or you might could stay in my basement, if you want. Its dark and quiet there, we would leave you in peace."
"Buffy, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t - can’t be that close to you right now."
Buffy paused, slightly taken aback. Spike, not wanting a spot in the Summers household, not jumping at the chance to be near her? Oh right, Conceited Buffy much. He needs space and likely you do to. Don’t want to begin communing with the evil undead again, or not so evil undead, or OK, stop before my head explodes.
"Well, what about Xander? "
"Yeah, I imagine the whelp would love to have me in his home."
"Actually, Spike you might be surprised. Xander has changed over the summer and I think he’d let you stay," a slight grin crossed her face, "even if only to make sure it’s not with me."
"I’ll think on it Buffy."
Somewhere, something deep inside him lit up. She cared, if only a little, a least about his basic well-being - or did she? His demon laughed at his confusion. She just needs you to be her tracker, her seer, her strongman, she doesn’t really care for you, it was all just a game. He felt the throes of struggle beginning and knew he needed to back away from her.
"Buffy, I’ll think on it and get back to you - you run the idea by Xander, OK? Thank you for your concern."
And then he was gone.
Buffy looked at the sky and sighed. She should patrol now. Sacred duty, etc. But she needed some time to sort things, in a way she had resolutely failed to do over the summer. She knew things were better with Dawn, her ties with Xander were the best they’d ever been - her sister and "brother" were good. And Willow, her bubbly, shy, nerdy best friend, who had changed and become so much more than any of them would have ever suspected. Buffy knew they were on the right track, that healing had begun. None of them were innocents any longer. They had all, one way or another, taken lives, or been responsible for the loss of life. But they were healing now. Except for one final and possibly the most difficult relationship to resolve - Spike.
Chapter 2
Buffy strolled through the cemetery, having completed her sweep for the night. She wasn’t sure she s permanent. A quick roll in the hay, a series of one night stands, an orgasm friend, to use Anya speak.
But there were times when his kisses would soften, his hands would slow, and he would try to make her look him in the eyes as they shivered and ground their way towards climax. Buffy fought these moments, distracting him by sinking her teeth in his neck, or scoring his flanks with her nails, throwing a little pain in the mix to be sure he didn’t get too lovey dovey. That was her, the hellcat on the Hellmouth in bed.
But her subconscious betrayed her and after those wild rounds, when she was back in her pastel and pretty room, she would find in her dream life that Spike was with her. The same scene would play out again, but so much more. Her heart would clutch as he worshipped her, soft light kisses on her face, covering every inch of her skin, her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. Gradually working his way to her lips, the usual fierce battle of tongues and teeth instead giving way to languishing soul kisses that lasted forever. And so it would go until she would wake, panting, her heart racing and breaking at the same time for what she could never, ever, have with him. Because he was an evil, undead bloodsucking fiend. Because her friends would mock and ridicule her, under the guise of protecting her. Because, while she knew using him was wrong, sometimes she wondered, deep inside, if what was happening between them was beginning to cross the line and become too real. If maybe, just maybe, what she felt was a little more, and if she just gave it half a chance, she’d know for sure. But that was something she couldn’t do.
Her birthday came and went, with the abortive failure to set her up with Richard, a nice boy, but one that left her cold and unmoved. She couldn’t even bring herself to mildly flirt with him, to turn on the old Buffy charm beyond the usual hostess politeness. Spike lurking in the hallway, trying to seduce her with that horrible reminder of her unfettered anger on his face in the black eye she had given him, had come so close a few times. If it hadn’t been for the Tara interruption and the trapped with a horned, sword-wielding, demon thing, he might have persuaded her and she might have given in to something softer, more loving, allowed herself to be adored and cherished by him. After all, everyone deserves to be adored on their birthday, right? But circumstances had not permitted.
After that night, she had avoided him for a few days, as she contemplated what to do. Should she risk opening her heart and letting him end some of the loneliness that was omnipresent these days? Should she let him in? Should she risk feeling more than the exquisite physical sensations he was skilled at wringing from her as they came together? Every time she came close to concluding that life was too short, as she knew from first hand experience, carpe diem, etc., she chickened out, fear of all that could go wrong with such a course of action swamping her into near paralysis.
She couldn’t love Spike, couldn’t have a legitimate relationship with him, because, because, because...so many reasons she could write books about them. The nagging Good Buffy voice would say, Remember Angel, remember how badly that turned out? Pain and heartbreak and angst that made her want to split in two - and that was with the soul. Without, Angelus had brought death and sorrow and nearly the end of the world to her and those she loved. Vampires bad.
Then Shallow Buffy was make a sly comment, like, But they’re so pretty, the line of Aurelius. Maybe it was a family thing, maybe the demon of that line just had exquisite taste, but Angel and Spike, the dark and the light, were both so beautiful.
Bad Buffy would rear her head to agree and chime in, Let yourself have one perfect night with him, just one night where you soak up all that love and adoration you’ve been missing for so long, where you can revel in really feeling more than just the physical. One night won’t change anything if you truly don’t love him, and to feel again, without reservation, that heady tumble where your heart raced and your stomach lurched and you felt the stirrings, the possibilities of love that would last. One night to play with all of that, then, back to the same old, same old. Because, part of touching the fire is more than the physical burn.
Buffy’s inner voices continued to debate the wisdom of this plan as she finally crawled into bed and feel into a deep sleep.
She knew somehow, instinctively, that this was a dream she was in, but not a Slayer dream thankfully for once, just an ordinary dream, but a very vivid one. She could feel the sunlight shining on her shoulders, and see the vivid greens of the forest she was being ridden through. Suddenly, Buffy was aware that she was clutching someone to keep up right on the horse they were riding. Wait, she was on a horse? Huh, this was a new one. She turned her attention to the man she had such a firm grip on and realized he was wearing some sort of armor or mail. A brief moment of panic washed over Buffy at the thought that this was indeed a Slayer dream and somehow the Knights were back and after Dawn.
Her dream self seemed to have no such fears and wrapped her arms more tightly around the man in front of her.
"Are we close?" Dream Buffy asked.
And the voice that responded, not surprising given her pre-bedtime musings, was the deep British tones of her current paramour.
"We’ll be there soon, my lady," Spike responded.
My lady? Was this Spike? He was prone to the pet names, but she couldn’t recall ever hearing him her call my lady before. But Dream Buffy must not have found it strange, she simply sighed and clutched him more tightly.
A short while later, they reached a small clearing before the entrance to what looked to be a small cave. Dream Spike slid from the horse’s back and turned to face her for the first time. Buffy knew that indeed, despite the armor, the man whose cerulean blue eyes she stared into were her Spike’s eyes. Wait, her Spike? Dream Buffy slid from the horse into his outstretched arms and pressed herself against him.
"Lancelot, will we be discovered, is this safe?"
"My lady Guinevere, we are alone and should be free from prying eyes here." Dream Spike paused and gazed down at her. "The king is on the hunt today, we have some time before he and the others return." He pressed a soft kiss on lips and then continued.
"Guinevere, my love, are you afraid? We can return to the castle and no one will be the wiser." He gazed at her softly, and Buffy realized he would abandon this little tryst in a heartbeat if she said the word. "My love, you know I am yours, body and soul, forever. I want to be with you, here, today. But if we leave, it changes nothing. I know we were never meant to be. I know you have a special place and calling. I am but your humble servant and you may do with me as you will."
Dream Buffy blinked and tears threatened to spill.
"Lancelot, are you afraid? The costs are high and you will bear them as much as I, if not more, if we are discovered. I should never have urged you to bring me here. I have no right to ask you to take this risk for a brief moment of pleasure."
Spike caught Dream Buffy’s chin in his hands.
"Dearest, no, never, to be with you, to hold you and make love to you, even just this once, is worth the price, any price. Once to keep in my memories, no more."
"Then love me, for I am eternally yours."
The pair kisses more ardently, and Buffy, in that strange disembodied sensation of dreams, can feel the smoothness of her dream lover’s lips pressed to hers, the beginning of tears as her dream self clings to this man and finds something so intense, so spectacular, she’ll risk a kingdom for it. And then she wakes up.
Buffy looks around the darkened room. It’s 5:00AM, she has a few more hours, but sleep won’t come. Maybe that was the answer. She needed to feel that kind of emotion that she had channeled in her dream, that incredible passion, to touch the fire again. Maybe the reason she kept running to Spike was because she knew he could give her that kind of flame in spades, in a way no one else could right now. But despite the marathon shagfests they’d had, she hadn’t been allowing any emotional spark. Maybe that was the key to making things better and moving past Spike.
Good Buffy prissed up chanting her usual mantra, Don’t go there. Evil undead, no soul, can’t be trusted, blah blah blah, don’t even think about it.
Bad Buffy recalled the joy and intense emotions of Buffy as Guinevere in the dream and urged just such a sojourn in the land of Spike love to explore these emotions.
Good Buffy retorted that this would be using him and would be wrong.
And then, out of nowhere, came the wild little thought, Make it a game.
Bad Buffy perked up, A game, a role play, Spike will go for that and you can explore the tricky little emotions in a safe way with no real commitment - because its only a game.
Good Buffy still seemed troubled, but acknowledged that if Spike knew they were only playing and willingly agreed, they weren’t really using him, were they? He’d be a willing participant.
Buffy mused some more as to how to put such a game in motion as the clock continued to tick toward wake up time. She wasn’t really up on sex games, or how one broached them with someone you were shagging, but not really speaking with regularly.
She had to admit, before Spike, she’d had what could at best be described as a conventional sex life, aside from the fact that Angel had been a vampire. But even then, their time together had been sweet and slow, appropriately gentle for her first time, at least until he woke up.
Riley, bless his heart, had no imagination in that area and she’d been loathe to rock the boat and ask for something new. If she’d had any clue he was sneaking around to vamp whores after finishing with her, she might have gotten creative, but in retrospect, it wouldn’t have been worth the effort. It was far enough in the past for her to acknowledge that she and Riley were never meant to be in a long-term sense. Probably she was never meant to be with anyone in a long term sense, but maybe, for a little while, she could live in a fantasy world and pretend.
The question was, how did one establish the parameters of these games so Spike wouldn’t misinterpret things? This wasn’t really a sex game, she wasn’t going to be asking for bondage etc. But exploring emotions was a whole lot scarier than handcuffs or most of the other kinky things Spike had thrown her way. Could you use safe words to indicate you were feeling too much love?
Should she ask Anya? Of all the Scoobies, she certainly was the most open about sex and relationships, and based on past comments, she and Xander played Shiver Me Timbers and other role playing games on a regular basis. What Buffy wanted to propose to Spike was certainly different than naughty nurse, but maybe if she could bring the subject up, Anya would spill forth tidbits that could be of use - assuming Xander wasn’t around to stop her.
Buffy finally relaxed, content with this new plan, just as the alarm went off.
Chapter 4
Buffy managed to crawl out of bed, get Dawn started for school, and do a few rudimentary chores before it neared time for the start of her shift at the Palace. She decided to swing by the Magic Box on her way to see if she could catch Anya for a little chat, at she neatly tucked her work clothes in a duffle.
Just walking in the bright sunshine put a little more spring in her step as she strolled down the street towards her destination. She was positively cheery by the time she walked into the magic shop and was relieved to find it empty of both clientele and Scoobies. OK, Buffy, perfect timing - this might work.
How could she get Anya talking on her topic of interest without letting the cat out of the bag about why she wanted the information? Subtlety had never been her strong suit and she doubted today would be the start, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Buffy blew out a breath and approached the counter.
"Hi Anya," she said brightly," how are the wedding plans going?"
Oh, bad move Buffy, now she’ll talk about flowers and seating arrangements all day, divert, divert!! Oh, I know…
"Anya, I was wondering, as your bridesmaid, do you want to stay at our place the night before the wedding - tradition and all."
"Oh, that’s sweet of you to offer Buffy! Are you afraid that Xander and I will copulate before the event and bring bad luck to our marriage?"
Sex has entered the conversation, that was quick.
"Well, I know that you and Xander have been, well, not saving yourselves, but don’t you think its more romantic to cut back before the actual ceremony? Maybe make the wedding night more special? Hey you could even do a role playing game - you be the blushing virginal bride and he could be the fumbling first-time groom!"
OK, not subtle at all, but it’s out there, lets see if she’ll take the bait.
"That’s a very clever idea, Buffy - it might add some romance. However, I do not wish Xander to be too fumbling, a girl’s wedding night should be filled with many orgasms. But Xander likes the games, I’ll suggest that to him." Anya replied seriously.
"So you guys play games as lot?" Buffy cringed slightly when she realized what she’d said. Oh, great, look like a perve now, Ms. I Don’t Have a Man fishing for details of her buddies sex lives.
Fortunately, Anya was on one of her favorite subjects, Xander and sex, so the fishing expedition drew some results.
"Oh yes, Xander enjoys the games, he gets very excited by them and they result in many happy orgasms for me.
"Um," Buffy tried to look mildly, yet not too weirdly interested. "You know I’ve never played games like that, Riley wasn’t into it - how does it work?"
"Oh Buffy, you’ll find a man who will play games with you, you’re a very pretty girl, you just need to put yourself out there more. Perhaps you’d like some tips for your next orgasm-friend - maybe then they’ll stay longer?" Anya looked at Buffy inquiringly.
Ouch. Buffy wasn’t sure Anya realized the slam, though she suspected she did - there was a little glint in the ex-demon’s eyes. But she was finally getting where she wanted to go, the down and dirty details on Role-Playing 101. She just wasn’t sure this was what she was after for her tentative love tryst with Spike, but as Anya appeared ready to tell all, she’d know soon.
"Well," Anya beamed, "first you need to find about your partner’s like, dislikes, turn-ons, etc. That way you’ll know how to excite him and he can then reciprocate by pleasing you. For instance, Xander really enjoys my nurse’s outfit that is very tight, short and shows much cleavage. The last time I wore it,...."
Buffy vaguely zoned out as Anya gave a slightly ex-rated account of Xander’s reaction to the outfit and the resulting sexual acts that resulted. As Anya concluded the story, Buffy delved a little deeper.
"So you just wear an outfit, you aren’t really role playing?"
"Well, not entirely. We have some games that are more complicated. When we play shiver me timbers, I’m the damsel in distress and Xander’s the big bad pirate who ravishes me. We both wear costumes, but there’s more than that. We don’t use our real names - he’s Captain Nighthawk, the dread pirate, and I’m Miranda, the beautiful and wealthy daughter of an English lord who would never look his way. We have a whole story, I got it out of a romance novel I was reading. Miranda grew up on the same estate as Nighthawk, and he was her first love, but as she grew older, she left him to pursue a wealthy husband in London, because he was just a poor peasant lad. So then he becomes this wealthy pirate, but he’s actually a secret agent for the Queen, so he’s really a good guy, and he kidnaps Miranda to save her from a horrible marriage but he makes her think its for ransom. Buffy?"
Buffy thought she had the idea, actually a little more than she wanted to know, but had one final question.
"So you’re like completely the other character while you play, right? How do you end, I mean, besides the sex? How do you know when you’re done?"
"Oh well, I know we’re starting when Xander gets out the eyepatch, but sometimes we plan to play. So I’ll tell Xander before he leaves for work that Miranda needs rescuing that night. Then he can get all worked up all day and I know we’ll start as soon as I get home from work. So I’m Miranda when I walk in the door. I know we’re stopping if we use our real names. It’s fun, perhaps if you go to the Bronze with us we can find you a guy to play with Buffy." Anya paused, contemplating, "Though it’s probably not a first date activity if you’re looking for a long-term relationship - it’s a lot more fun when you know and trust the person you’re playing with."
"OK. Well, thanks, Anya, when my life gets a little saner and not so busy, I may try finding a guy - I envy what you and Xander have."
" Well, thank you, Buffy, and I’ll take you up on your offer to stay at your home before the wedding. I think Xander and I may try that game on our honeymoon."
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy, strolled along the street, mulling over the conversation. A few of Anya’s comments were a little unnerving - like knowing and trusting the person, and finding out what the guy liked. Well, Spike liked her, she knew that, and he’d do pretty much what ever she told him. That could care of that aspect. And she certainly knew him well enough, he’d been hanging around for years, and she definitely had the knowing in the biblical sense down. But trust, that was a can of worms best not opened. Besides, who needed trust. She was stronger than Spike and he knew it. She could keep him under control. Buffy picked up her pace so she wouldn’t be late for work, again, choosing to ignore what she knew Anya had really been talking about.
Instead she focused on the parameters. The key to this whole little scheme was to establish boundaries and keep them. In character, she could let him be loving, out of character, back to the usual. That way Spike wouldn’t get ideas that she actually had feelings for him or anything crazy like that.
She needed to concoct an scenario, one that Spike would not be tempted to confuse with real life. She skipped along through various scenarios. She wanted a romantic vibe from the couple she picked - something maybe from literature, or some movie. She pondered some possible pairings.
Romeo and Juliet? She cringed - way too many Angel overtones there. Harry and Sally? (She just loved that movie!) She dismissed it, Spike was unlikely to be able to get into the character of a somewhat neurotic political consultant, or whatever Harry was in that movie. Scarlett and Rhett? Somehow, that one seemed to fit, maybe a little, but where would she find a hoop skirt?
Wait, her dream, that was the answer. She would be Guinievere and he could be Lancelot! Medieval knight, lady of the lake, yadda, yadda. She thought Guinievere was with King Arthur too, maybe, at some point, but she wasn’t entirely sure. Oh well, it didn’t matter - he was Lancelot in the dream. She wasn’t really all that up on those legends, but she suspected Spike was, so she could play off him as they went along. She was pretty sure they were quite the romantic pair. He should love that - being British and all. She giggled, proud that she had figured out an appropriately fantasy based romance for them to play out.
Now, how to bring this up with Spike? Somehow a letter, tucked in his crypt door, seemed appropriate to start the game. She’d outline the little scenario along with an invitation and see where it went. She could always run away if it looked as thought he wasn’t going to play by the rules. She had become something of an expert at that in the recent past. Buffy bounced excitedly, she had found the answer. She could revel in his love, connect with some deeper emotions and feel alive again, but he’d be fine, because he’d know it was all a game. Now, she needed to work on her little letter.
Chapter 5
Spike sensed something moving outside the crypt as he stared at the latest episode of Passions. It was so fleeting that he paid it little mind until the commercial break came on. Wearily, he opened the door and found a small pale cream envelope laying on his doorstep, what appeared to be an invitation of sorts. He threw his blanket over is head and swiftly snatched the packet off his doorstep, then retreated into the cool confines of the crypt to peruse it.
He recognized the handwriting, it was Buffy’s less than perfect penmanship. Her scent wafted from the paper towards him, and he supposed her sending him little letters in the middle of the day could only be a good sign. He hadn’t seem her since her birthday, recognizing she needed some time with the Bit, but he was itching to hold her cradled against him again, to feel her raw and elemental desires reaching out for his cold flesh.
He remembered that conversation with Riley, what seemed a lifetime ago now, where he envied his place in her bed. "Sometimes I envy you so much it chokes me. And then sometimes I think I've got the better deal. To be that close to her and not have her... To be all alone even when you're holding her, feeling her, feeling her beneath you, surrounding you, the scent of -- no, you've got the better deal."
Now that he was the one in that position, he still believed he’d been right. He would still would rather be able to touch her than never be with her, but there were times when it almost wasn’t enough. Maybe one day, it would be more with her. But he was truly her willing slave and what Buffy wanted, he would give her, for as long as she wanted it.
He sighed as he slid out what appeared to be two letters. The first one was clearly labeled, READ ME FIRST, and he opened the page, scanning quickly.
I want to try something new. I want to play a game with you. If you agree, here are the ground rules.
1. The game world is just that, a fantasy. Whatever we may do or say in it is part of the game and we don’t bring it up when we aren’t playing.
2. We have to stay in character. I have a scenario I want to play. When we finish this game, if we both are pleased, we may consider others and you may help choose the next game.
3. We will signify the start of the game by using our characters names. When the game concludes, or one of us no longer wishes to play, we will revert to our actual names.
4. This game will only be played at your crypt, we will not play in other locations, especially my house.
If you want to play with me, meet me outside the Armstrong crypt Friday night at midnight and we will proceed from there. My scenario is on the 2nd sheet of paper.
Spike started at the sheet of paper for a long, long time. His emotions swirled as he considered the implications of this. Buffy wanted to play games? More than they were already?
He wasn’t stupid. He knew, deep down, that what they had wasn’t mutual and that she was using him. But, this, this was truly unexpected. She was asking to play a game with very carefully drawn parameters that weren’t to be crossed. Why?
He doubted she was looking to play Mistress of Pain with him - they already made each other hurt in all the right places. No, she wanted something they hadn’t done, but that she was afraid of doing, afraid of getting out of control.
Spike stared at the page, reading it through again. If it didn’t seems to be simply one of his wildest fantasies come true, he’d think she wanted a game were they played at being in love. If that was the case, this was his chance.
Spike’s inner poet rejoiced at the prospect of wooing his lady and showing her the depths of his love. Maybe this was just what he needed. If she let him truly make love to her in this little game, maybe he could defrost that heart which he sometimes thought must be so cold it would never unthaw. She had loved Angel. She was capable of loving a vampire. Maybe she would learn to love him if he could only be tender and sweet with her, as he so often wanted to be.
Oh Buffy, I’m gonna play your game, and I’m gonna win , he thought, inwardly smirking. She had to be softening to him if she was proposing such steps. He quickly ripped open the second paper to see exactly what her little role play was going to be. He was actually surprised at what he found.
I’ll be Guinievere and you’ll be Lancelot. You’ll rescue me from a fiery dragon and then we’ll flee to a cave where we wait for a horrible storm to pass while you woo me. See you Friday.
Spike stared at the paper for a long minute. Buffy was not a particularly creative type sometimes and clearly knew squat about Arthurian legends. Had probably caught that bloody First Knight movie on cable and run with it or something.
He was slightly disturbed in her character choices. She wanted to play a queen who betrayed her husband and brought down Camelot with her infidelity and by some legends was quite the bitch to Lancelot, despite his adoration. Then again, maybe she was on to something.
Their relationship was as hidden as an adulterous relationship would be despite the lack of significant others on both their parts. He knew she wasn’t talking to the Scoobies about their little romps and she had forbidden him to as well. And she certainly had the power in her little world, which would be undermined amongst her group if she came out, so to speak, to her friends about shacking up with the undead again.
She had unwittingly nailed him with Lancelot as well he feared. He was eternally her champion, her willing slave and most certainly love’s bitch. Spike knew that for all his posturing with her, he would take whatever crumbs he could from his lady’s hand. He would betray the world if called upon for Buffy, and right or wrong, he’d follow her anywhere.
He just hoped her character choices didn’t doom his plans, because unlike Lancelot, he wanted to remain with his Guinievere for the long haul and eventually be more than a dark, dirty little secret. And this little scenario might just give him the chance he needed.
Now how to properly prepare the setting and sweep little Miss Buffy/Guinievere off her feet?
Everything needed to be perfect and as distraction free as possible. He didn’t want slaying, work, responsibilities to interfere if possible. There wasn’t much he could do about the last two, but he could certainly do an early patrol and keep her from having to dust any new risers. Might do a few turns around town before midnight, take care of the early weekend rabble rousers as well. He chortled inwardly, it wouldn’t quite be a dragon, but he supposed quieting the demon population of Sunnydale should do for his chivalrous rescue.
Next, the setting. So she wanted to be trapped in a cave for their little scene where he would "woo" her. He supposed she was thinking of the lower part of his crypt, for the little seduction scene. She’d been somewhat admiring of the changes he’d made when she had last visited.
He’d have to tidy up a bit, make sure he had fresh sheets. They were definitely going to make it to the bed this time. He needed to set up some candles, get a nice romantic glow going down there.
Spike’s long still heart almost wanted to beat again at the possibilities. He could make her love him if she’d give him half a chance, and this was the starting point. Now, where was the volume of Tennyson, he knew he had it somewhere.