GO WITH IT (1/1)
 

The curtains were drawn but not tight enough to prevent the sliver of
moonlight from peaking through. It was still dark, but dawn was slowly
creeping in. Spike was struck with a memory of a poem he had once read, the
exact words elusive but it was something about dawn creeping on soft feet or
some such nonsense. When he was alive, he might have appreciated the written
verse. Now, it just reminded him of times of weakness and stupidity, of what
he had been like as a human and memories that were best forgotten. That
version of himself, thankfully, was destroyed, never to return. It was only
on rare occasions that he even had a flash of that self, a reminder of
something from before his death. He usually pushed it aside, not wanting to
dwell on that pathetic shell of a man that he had once been. It was amusing
in a sadistic, torturous way that Red tended to bring back those memories
that he wanted so desperately to forget.
 

Of course, Red tended to break other memories too, flashes from his life with
Dru, of the feelings he had once held for his beautiful sire, of the way that
he had never been good enough for her, never been able to compete with her
perfect little Daddy, and then the slight waves of love would fade and anger
would replace them. Anger and jealousy for a man that had treated Dru like a
ragdoll, using her then tossing her aside, but never losing that control or
power that he held over her. And he would sit there and stew, lost in
memories of times that he could not change, wondering now if he would even
change them if he could, give them up to be that weak excuse for a bastard
that he had been before his rebirth, to live and die in poverty without ever
seeing what he had seen. Then, his eyes would move to the woman laying beside
him, would tenderly move over her face and be caught on her first her lips
then her throat then maybe her breasts before moving back up to look at her
closed eyes. And he'd realize that it had been worth it. It had all been
worth it. Because, without that pain and without that life with Drusilla, he
would not be where he was now. He would not be able to have feelings for
anyone, much less the slayer's best friend. Then, he would frown, his blue
eyes still looking at her face, and he would again be reminded of the
weakness and pathetic romantic view of the world that he had once had all
those many years ago, in another lifetime, and the cycle would start once
again.
 

You see, he didn't understand why he was there. Well, he knew the shagging
was part of it. He'd wanted the little spitfire since seeing her years ago,
all innocence and wide eye wonder. Stuff of more fantasies than he cared to
admit, thank you very much. Never became quite obsessive though, too much
happening in his world at that time, what with Angelus the prick back and
Drusilla suddenly treating him like a fucking leper after all their years
together. But, the little redhead had stayed in his mind, back in a light
corner where he tended to keep images and memories that meant something to
him. A corner that the demon tended to avoid, the emotion of the memories
usually making it annoyed. Yet, the redhead attracted the demon too, maybe
being the only thing that both he and his demon coveted. When Dru had left
him again, it was the redhead he had come for. True, he had been drunk off
his ass and completely fucked that entire plan up, but she had just proven to
be better than he had imagined. It wasn't until later, when he had left
Sunnydale, that he realized just how he had messed that one up. He had
intended to go to Sunnydale, take the redhead and leave again, making her his
for eternity. But, a good old bottle of JB had him wallowing in memories of
the past instead of thinking towards the future and Drusilla had again
clouded his mind, leading him away from the one reason he had come back to
the hellhole in the first place. So, he had decided to go with it. Stay away
and move on. Staying away had proven more difficult. Moving on hadn't. Well,
he had never truly moved on. For some reason, this girl, this slip of a girl,
did something to him that only Drusilla had ever done. She made him feel
again.
 

He had come to Sunnydale, intent on finding that damn ring. Now, with one
breath, he smiled at that thought his eyes looking down at his unmoving
chest, he cursed the thing that had sucked him back into this town, and in
another, he was so thankful that it scared him. He could have stayed away,
after leaving Peaches in LA, he should have gone far away. But, he had seen
her again. His redhead with that mangy mutt. And Harmony had tried to hurt
her. Even now he was amazed that the blonde slut had survived that attempt.
The silly bitch thought their evening together afterwards had been for a job
well done, that the hours of draining blood from her and the torture had been
all sport, all for fun. Dumb cunt didn't even see the look he knew had to
have been in his eyes, didn't realize that it was pain without the pleasure.
That she had fucked up by touching something that belonged to him. That was
why he had come back, to get rid of the mutt and claim his redhead, to keep
her safe from Harmony and anyone else that might threaten her. Only, the
initiative fucked up that plan and by the time he had regained his senses,
the wolf was gone and she had moved on to the blonde witch. Trust him to get
caught with his demon unable to fight for her. So, he'd sat and waited.
Slowly pushing aside his feelings for her, knowing that he was a vampire with
no soul, that he should not have feelings for anyone except his sire and
creator. He had even begun to admire the damn slayer in hopes that the spell
the redhead cast over him would fade. Admire? Ha, that was a frigging laugh.
He'd wanted her, wanted to try to break the bitch. Wanted to see how many
wisecracks she could make with her lips wrapped around his dick, wanted to
see the lust and need in her hazel eyes instead of pity and disgust, wanted
to remind her who he was and what he could do to her. She had become close to
an obsession, he was ashamed to admit. He'd needed something to get through
the endless nights, wanting the slayer had seemed perfect. Now, he had to
wonder what the hell he had been thinking. He didn't even really like the
bitch, though she was attractive in her own flashy way. He had woken up one
day, taken a good look at himself and seen just how pathetic he had become.
He had been worse than his human version, trailing after his enemy like some
devoted puppy dog. He had to thank the slayer for having enough sense to be
revolted by him and the thought of being with him. He frowned at that,
knowing that he actually should be offended that the thought of being with
him was worse than death to her, but he shook it off, knowing that now that
he was in his right mind again, it was the same for him. The thought of
touching her, tasting her, it all made his stomach roll and his demon cringe.
No, thankfully that entire period of self loathing and abnormal behavior was
finished. Had been since he had started to pick up on strain between his
redhead and her witch. Since he had seen a glimmer of a chance of having what
it was that he truly wanted. The slayer had been shoved from his mind and his
redhead had taken it back over.
 

It had been a little over a week since he had come to the slayer's house that
first time, since he had taken his Red and made sure she knew who she
belonged to. He had tried to stay away, lasting only a couple of days before
she had lured him back with sweet memories and whispers of a future. He had
been back every night since, sneaking into the slayer's house and waking
Willow from her dreams with his lips and his touch only to leave again before
dawn, before any light entered the room and he was forced to see the disgust
and guilt that her green eyes held during the harsh light of day. He was much
more content to close his eyes and see hers ablaze with desire and want and
need. He never failed to get hard thinking about those green eyes watching
his cock thrust into her, her lips begging him to make her feel...something,
anything. And he would, he'd make her rue the day she had ever met him, her
curses at him music to his ears as she called him names, begging for him to
enter her, to take her away for even a few fleeting moments. They moved as
one, anticipating each others needs without a single word being spoken. Even
now, after having spent four nights in her bed, no words had been spoken
between them save those two that first night he had snuck in here. It seemed
to be an unspoken agreement that this room was theirs and that nothing
interfered with what they felt while together. Outside, it was a different
story. She hadn't even looked at him the night before at the magic shop,
blatantly ignored him in favor of talking to Buffy of all people. But, he
smiled slowly, he had heard her heartbeat speed up, smelled the slight
beginnings of arousal as her green eyes had studied him shyly. It might be
easy for her to act like this was nothing except sex, that her letting him
fuck her <make love, he corrected mentally> was some sort of release of her
control for just a few hours. He knew that it was more. His demon wanted her.
He wanted her. She wanted him, even if she was lost in words of denial and
rules that dictated that they shouldn't be together. He'd just have to teach
her to break the rules.
 

Did he love her? Demons weren't supposed to love. He had no soul. To love,
one must possess a soul. What a bunch of poppycock, he decided with a snort.
He looked back at her, his fingers pushing a strand of hair away from her
face, watching as she shifted, her face moving towards his touch, her mouth
opening slightly as she softly moaned. She was tired, having been kept awake
by him most nights until nearly dawn. He could see the circles under her
eyes, started from the moment the slayer's mother had died and never fading
as her witch soon left her, she moved in with the slayer and then he had
started luring her from her sleep each night. He leaned down, brushing his
lips against her eyelids before moving down to touch her lips. He was
careful, not wanting to wake her from an obviously needed sleep. His eyes
were soft as he ran his hand along her cheek one last time before he rolled
off the bed, his hands finding his jeans in the darkness. He got dressed
quietly, having memorized this routine the past few nights. When he was
clothed, his blue eyes looked back at her face watching her snuggle against
the covers, her arm moving to cover the space where he had been laying. He
watched in satisfaction as she groaned softly, a small frown forming on her
lips as she moved her arm more, as if she was searching for him. Did he love
her? Hell, was there ever a time since first seeing her that he hadn't? That
was the better question. He shook his head slightly, not wanting to waste any
more time thinking. He'd done enough of that this week, thank you very much.
Right now, he might not understand exactly what was happening between him and
Red, but he was going to go with it. See where it took them. He picked up his
duster, opening the door slowly to avoid any squeaks. He entered the hallway,
taking one last look at her, unaware of the tender smile that crossed his
lips or of the look of pure emotion that entered his blue eyes before he shut
the door, moving gracefully to the stairs and walking down them two at a
time.
 

Down the hall, hazel eyes watched him leave with surprise. Shock, dismay,
curiosity, hurt and a flash of anger crossed the pretty face as eyes swung
from Spike to Willow's closed door. Buffy was leaning against her door,
conflicting emotions obviously filling the slayer. Finally, she sighed,
moving her eyes away from Willow's door as she went back into her room,
taking a seat in her chair instead of laying back down. She rested her head
on her hand as she started to think, trying desperately to make sense of what
she had just seen and what her mind was telling her it must mean.
 

*************THE END***************

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