Buffy woke with a start, her hand clutching her chest
as she shot up into a sitting position, her breathing coming fast and ragged.
Giving a panicked look to her surroundings her breathing became restricted by
the overwhelming fear that loomed up in her, she didn't recognise anything--the
walls surrounding her were not the comforting ones of her bedroom or her dorm,
the bed she was laying in was not the soft downy one of home but a harder one,
worn with age.
She clutched her chest harder as she remembered what had happened, closing her
eyes in an attempt to shut out the images that flooded her vision she curled up
into a ball of pain and fear.
She'd fallen.
She'd fallen so far.
So far from grace.
It was dark out, pitch black to be precise due to lack of moon or stars. Thunder
clouds hung heavy overhead, threatening Sunnydale with their low constant
rumble, warning the world that tonight was not a good night.
Buffy sprinted hard across the grass, the long blades tickling her ankles as she
pounded the earth in search of somewhere to hide--anywhere.
He was coming, quick and fast like lightning behind her, closing in on her and
not surrendering his relentless pursuit.
Running out onto the street she dashed across the road, nursing her arm and
hoping the bleeding would subside soon, it felt like someone had a branding iron
pressed into her flesh--the white hot pain echoing through her bones until she
felt like passing out.
She glanced quickly over her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the vampire
chasing her and trying to increase her pace as she saw he was no further than
twenty metres behind her.
As she faced forwards again and pushed herself past the limits she felt a sudden
wobble and the world seemed to give way.
Coughing as she came to, Buffy looked up at the sky towering above her, a bolt
of lightning illuminating the large hole she had fallen into and she gasped as
the vampire appeared above her--looming in the darkness.
Trying to scramble to her feet, she winced in pain as her ankle gave way and she
fell to the floor once more.
She held her arm tightly to her chest as the vampire dropped into the hole,
landing firmly on his feet and stalking towards her.
This was it she realised.
There were no second chances.
No time outs.
No cut me a breaks.
It was over.
She closed her eyes tight as he neared her and then she felt a sudden defiance
rise up in her, she may be near death, staring it in the face but she was still
the Slayer and she wasn't going to die being scared.
Holding her head up high, she opened her eyes and then flinched as the vampire
disintegrated in front of her eyes, his dust catching the breeze and drifting
away. For a moment there was hope, hitched in her throat, and a thought that she
was going to make it, things were going to be okay.
Then a low chuckle ripped through her, paralyzing every nerve and sending it off
in a silent scream.
Slinking out of the shadows in front of her and coming to stand where her
pursuer had been not seconds before was another vampire, older, stronger, a
master of his own kind and a slayer of Slayers.
She gasped and felt her head spin as he hauled her up by her arm, grasping it
tightly and raking his eyes over the wound and then her. Feeling nauseous, Buffy
felt the pain burning through her and then nothing, as she fell into
unconsciousness all that echoed in her head were his dulcet tones breathed close
to her ear.
"And here I thought the evening a bit dull…"
Buffy jumped and winced as the door to her right flew open to reveal the
platinum blond vampire himself, his cheeks sucked into a wide grin as he
inspected her where she sat on the four poster bed.
Curling up into a tight ball she heard the clink of chains and realised for the
first time she was tied up, her head pounded harder at that thought, she was
trapped, kidnapped by the one vampire who'd escaped her so many times and now
she was his--a slave to his whims.
Spike sat down on the bed next to her and frowned as she tried to slink away,
tried to distance herself from him. Growling low in his throat, he grasped hold
of her ankle and yanked her back towards him. She cried out as he gripped it
tighter, letting his claws scratch the surface of her skin.
Catching hold of her arm, he concentrated on inspecting the long and angry wound
that ran from her wrist to past her elbow.
Last night had been hell, he'd been walking through the tunnels to see what the
commotion was when he'd found the vampire trying to kill the Slayer, on his
turf. Despatching him was easy, killing the Slayer however proved to be a little
harder. Even though she'd passed out in his arms like a swooning girl in a
period drama he had somehow lost his desire to kill her, limp and lifeless as
she'd slumped against him he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd told
himself the only reason he didn't want to kill her was because she was unable to
put up a decent fight, she hadn't stirred his appetite in the way she usually
did with her quips and her beautiful violence.
Buffy pressed her free hand against her chest as she watched him, part of her
was surprised to find her heart still beating strongly against her breastbone,
the other part was chilled with fear--there would be a reason he was keeping her
alive, something dark and terrifying.
Spike inhaled slowly, savouring the heady scent of her fear and the musk of
Slayer as it mixed in with the memory of her sweet perfumed skin. He remembered
it well, carrying her into the bedroom, her prone form resting gently in his
arms as he growled commands to his minions. They'd looked shocked at first,
horrified that their master was with the Slayer and she still had a heartbeat.
He'd told them he wanted a little fun, she'd be dead by morning, he'd lied.
Not that it mattered what minions thought.
He hadn't told the lie to them.
He'd told it to himself.
He'd cleaned the wound the best way he knew how, had taken her small hand in his
and given himself a moment to adjust to the feeling of her warmth seeping into
him before dipping his head and licking the cut. The strength of her blood had
made his head spin at first, his body hardening and his desire rocketing out of
control as her blood entered his veins. He'd never remembered it being so
potent, so intense, so full of life. He'd broke in that moment, the Slayer blood
induced daze causing his demon to recede and allowing William to push his way to
the surface, bringing with him thoughts of poetry and lingering echoes of
feelings once lost.
Spike growled and felt her pull away.
Coming out of his reverie he found William awaiting him, taunting him with soft
words and tenderness that burnt into his undead heart.
She was beautiful…
An angel…
Full of grace.
Spike growled again and stood up sharply, forcing the unbidden feelings and
words back down inside and holding them there as he looked down at her. Her wide
eyes said it all, she was scared of him, her soft cheeks becoming tear stained
as they escaped her eyes. Where was the self-control he'd seen in her all those
times? The disciplined emotions that never went unchecked during the fight? The
disconnected killer that she used to be? In front of him was a scared little
girl, her eyes full of fear and panic as she watched his every move, her body
trembling under his gaze and her arms wrapped tightly and protectively around
her.
"Hello, beautiful." Spike smirked as he tilted his head to one side, watching
her retreat further backwards against the headboard of the bed.
Buffy felt her heart hammering hard against her chest, her arm and ankle burning
with pain and the panic in her was sickening.
"Why?" She said through cracked lips, her mouth drier than the desert.
"Why not?" Spike countered and moved across the room, slowly pacing around the
bed as his eyes remained fixed on hers.
"What do you want with me?"
Spikes instant thought was to ask what didn't he want with her, he wanted it
all. Shaking his head to clear it of such a ridiculous thought, he just smirked
as a reply.
"Did you…" Buffy touched her neck and then hurriedly touched the other side,
searching for signs of him.
"No…not yet." He circled back around her, enjoying the feeling of her eyes
following him and the way she was slowly growing more accustomed to his
presence.
She looked down at her arm and felt his eyes fall there also.
"But you did this…" She stared at the long wound, it was starting to heal thanks
to her Slayer abilities and him.
"Tasted you…sweet like ambrosia."
"Why keep me alive…why risk my getting free?"
"No risk there." Spike sat down beside her and slipped his hand around the back
of her head, his fingers running through her sweat soaked hair. "Besides…I have
a million reasons for wanting you alive…"
Buffy shuddered under his touch and closed her eyes as he leant in close to her
neck, her breath escaping her in a small sigh as he brushed his lips against her
throat. Spike inhaled deeply, catching the scent of her desire.
"…Make that a million and one." He whispered.
When she opened her eyes he was gone, the bedroom door closing swiftly behind
him and she bit her lip hard.
She'd fallen alright.
Only he'd caught her.
He stood silent. The cigarette smoke curling from his lips as he blinked slowly,
his eyes fixed on her as she slept fitfully. Her breathing was laboured, a rough
noise in his ears that betrayed her pain. Sliding his eyes down her body he let
them come to rest on her arm as he took another drag, the comforting burning
sensation in his lungs the only thing keeping him stationary, still, calm.
As a tiny glint caught his eye he tensed his jaw, steeling himself against the
temptation that was calling to him, the scent of her blood hanging heavy in the
air, thickening it and setting him on edge. He watched the pearl of blood on her
arm as it clung to the surface of her skin as though it didn't want to part from
her, she was doing her best to heal but for some reason it was eluding her.
Flicking his cigarette to the floor, he ground it into the dirt with the toe of
his boot and sighed out the last of the blue-grey smoke, letting it drift away
and dissipate before his eyes. He only wished he could let her do the same.
The smell of her was driving him insane, driving his minions insane. He'd fought
with them all day, couldn't leave the lair all night because he knew they would
try to do something foolish. He chuckled.
Foolish.
Like bringing the Slayer back alive.
Like trying to heal her wounds.
Shaking his head he sniffed and stood up straighter, visibly bracing himself
against the feelings that she stirred, the memories of emotions once lost.
He could taste them in the air around him, a metallic tang on his tongue as he
licked his lips. A single drop of her blood would be all it would take to bring
them back to him, a taste of the life in her veins and the humanity she carried.
Slayer blood.
Potent and alluring as it was it had its dangers, a price you had to pay if you
weren't as hardened against the world as you should have been. He closed his
eyes as the images replayed inside his mind, the fights he'd won against her
kind, the sweet taste of victory, the rush of emotions as their blood had
entered his veins.
Opening his eyes sharply he narrowed his now amber iris' on her, watching her as
she sighed in her sleep, her body making slow, fitful movements under the
sheets. He swayed slightly as he kept his eyes fixed on her, lulled by her
heartbeat and her scent.
He had to have it.
Wanted it.
Needed it.
More than anything.
Moving fluidly towards her, he kneeled on the edge of the bed and dropped to all
fours, stalking up the length of her body until he was hovering just above her
hand where it rested across her stomach. Dipping his head, he kept his lips just
far enough away from her, the fine hairs on her arm tickling them as he coursed
his way up to the start of the wound.
Fluttering his eyes closed he felt dizzy inside as he caught the taste of her
skin and his arms trembled as they attempted to support his weight. Caught in
the sway of her, he felt like he was falling, so desperate to taste her blood,
her skin, the salt of her sweat, that he was lost in her. She surrounded him,
her heartbeat, her shallow breathing, and her scent. Brushing his lips against
the wound, he frowned in pleasure as the coppery taste filled his mouth, just
enough blood for a sweep of tingles to run through him, his arms weakening under
the influence of it and his body growing rigid with desire.
Buffy stirred slightly, a weight on the bed causing her to come out of her
fitful slumber. Opening her eyes a fraction she swallowed hard as she saw Spike
moving towards her, his demonic visage causing her Slayer side to kick in. She
was about to kick him away when she noticed the look in his eyes, the intensity
of it made her feel like she'd been hit in the stomach and it was heating
through with pain, or desire. He looked so enthralled, so fascinated with her
arm as he moved slowly up the bed. She watched quietly as he dipped his head,
his cool breath causing her skin to turn to goose bumps as he brushed his lips
against her. Part of her knew he wouldn't be doing this if he knew she were
awake, wouldn't be so gentle with her. She realised it was fear of waking her
that made him so tender, some childish nervousness over her discovering she had
some kind of power over him, that he couldn't resist the pull of her.
If he knew she was awake, it would be different.
Rough.
Hard.
Brutal.
She felt his tongue sweep softly against the wound on her arm, felt his arms
wobble under his weight and saw his brows knit as he exhaled sharply through his
nose--a small expression of pleasure that he couldn't stop.
Desire.
Power.
She had it, had it over him. A sway, a thrall. Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled
deeply.
And god did it thrill her.
Spike moved backwards slowly, sensing the change in
her emotions and her heartbeat. It sung to him of desire, of lust and
temptation.
“Morning, love.” He cocked his head to one side as she let her eyes slowly open,
revealing their emerald green beauty to him. There was something innocent in
them, something shy. He frowned and sat back on his heels, placing some distance
between them as he reined his feelings in. No words of poetry could do justice
to the emotions flooding him.
Shaking his head violently he pushed his demon visage away and shut William
down, locking away the feelings and forcing himself to see her as what she
really was. A captive. A Slayer.
Buffy drew the covers over her and held them tightly. It wasn’t that she feared
him, in reality he never scared her, but she was afraid of the emotions she had
allowed herself to feel towards him. All of her senses screamed that this was
wrong and she had now fallen into a silent mantra telling herself so in the
hopes that her feelings would fall back into place.
Raising her eyes back up to meet his she felt lost, the deep blue of them
capturing her more than the chains that bound her ever could. It was as though
she could see all his thoughts and feelings as they fleeted across his brain,
surfacing for a brief moment and showing themselves to her before they sank
again.
He smiled wide.
It set her teeth on edge.
There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her stomach
squirm, she wanted to bring her legs up and tense her body as she fought against
the sensation inside her. It wasn’t panic, she knew that much.
It wasn’t frustration, like she thought it might have been.
As she blinked into his eyes and he narrowed them on hers she swallowed hard.
Desire.
The feeling she thought she had the sole right to invoke in him he was invoking
in her.
Buffy tugged the chains impatiently to cover up the feeling that was slowly
radiating through her body until no part of her was left untouched. He was a
vampire, she was the Slayer. She had no right to be having these feelings of
temptation about him--no matter how good he looked when he smiled and how
delicious it felt when his tongue lathed against her skin.
No matter how easy it was to make him desire her.
He desired her.
She’d never seen a man desire her so much and she hadn’t even done anything to
make him want her, she’d just lain sleeping. Did she look that good when she was
sleeping? Buffy sniffed and wrinkled her nose slightly as she realised she
didn’t smell that good--days worth of sweat was sticking her white shirt and
jeans to her skin.
Spike continued to stare into her eyes.
He was lost. Fighting against it seemed futile. He couldn’t take his eyes off
hers as he watched the obvious struggle and confusion playing out in her green
ones.
“Why are you here?” Her voice cut the silence and he twitched his head to one
side questioningly as his brows knit for a brief moment.
“Protecting my interests.” His dulcet tones hit her straight in the stomach and
made the feeling there intensify--his interests? Protecting her?
“No…” She looked around the room for emphasis and then at the door. “Why are you
back in Sunnydale? I thought I told you to leave and not come back.”
“Fine end you would have had if I hadn’t come back, lying in the dirt with some
two-bit fledgling about to kill you…” He smirked at her as the calm feeling
inside him disappeared and was replaced with the usual frustration she always
managed to cause in him with her self-righteous attitude.
“Fine.” Buffy resisted the temptation to pout as she folded her arms across her
chest and bought her knees up.
Spike watched her turn her head to one side so she was looking away from him and
then frowned at the way he wanted to make her look at him again so he could see
her pretty eyes sparkle with her defiance--she was beautiful when angry at him.
Coughing slightly he stood up sharply and rounded the bed, walking straight into
her line of sight as he squashed down the emotions and reminded himself why he
had her here. Except by now his reasons and story had changed so many times that
he wasn’t sure himself anymore.
“The gem…I’m here for the Gem of Amara.” He said coldly as if she would know
what he was talking about and would fear it.
“The gem of a-what-huh?” Buffy frowned up at him and watched his face fall for a
second before he gritted his teeth in frustration and rolled his eyes, growling
loudly at the ceiling.
“Bloody hell…didn’t your watcher teach you anything?” Spike frowned down at her
and steadied himself, taking a step towards her and bending down so he could
look into her eyes. “The gem of Amara, I find it and put it on…I’m invincible.”
“Invincible?” Buffy let a frown wrinkle her nose. “Invincible how?”
“No sun allergy, no dusty ending…just enhanced strength and everything I’ve ever
needed to kill you.” He kept telling himself he should’ve just left her
wondering but he couldn’t resist bragging about what the gem would do to him,
for him.
“But you won’t.” She said quietly as she met his eyes. “You don’t have the guts
to kill me…you would’ve done it by now if you had.”
Spike snorted and let his eyes narrow into slits as his tone turned venomous.
“Maybe I’ve got plans for you first…then I’m going to kill you? Ever thought of
that?”
Buffy swallowed and tried to ignore the tiny spark of fear his words and icy
cold expression had ignited in her. She knew better than to push him but for
some reason she just couldn’t stop herself, being captured by him just made her
want to taunt him even more than usual.
“You’re all talk as usual I see. Ever asked yourself why you can’t kill me?”
His stomach heated through and he frowned at her words. He had what it took to
kill her, could wrap his fingers around her neck right now and choke the life
from her.
So why couldn’t he do it?
He shuddered as Drusilla’s taunting words floated around his head. She was
right, he was surrounded by Buffy and he couldn’t kill her.
Why can’t he kill her?
Spike growled. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t bring himself to kill her right
now, it was just a matter of time before he managed to build up the will to do
it.
Since when had he needed to build up to the kill?
He was always swift with the hunt, relentless in his pursuit and merciful in the
killing. Building up to the kill was something that Angelus had relished--the
divine torture and the calculated drinking so they would cry as he assaulted
them. Spike had never been like that, wouldn’t force himself on a woman or a
man, he just killed for the thrill of it, and for the blood.
He licked his lips.
“Is it red and tasty?” Buffy’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What?” He snapped.
“What you’re daydreaming about. Is it red and tasty?” She mocked him as she
licked her lips. “You looked kinda gone there for a moment…not only do you not
have the strength to kill me but your concentration has slipped too. I’m shocked
at you, William.”
She kept telling herself to stop pushing him but she still continued her
relentless pursuit and she couldn’t figure out what she was trying to gain by
it. Looking down at the manacles that were digging into her wrists she realised
it had something to do with attempting to make him mad at her. By pushing him,
she could make him mad enough to finally do something, anything.
She was sick of playing the waiting game, chained up with a niggling voice at
the back of her mind suggesting things he was going to do to her. She wanted to
know what he had in mind.
“Concentr…bloody hell woman, what’s that supposed to mean?” He clenched his
fists up as he stood up straight so he towered above her.
Buffy swallowed quietly to steady her nerves as she looked at him, his eyes dark
with anger and his body tensed--like a cat ready to pounce. Maybe she didn’t
want to provoke him into action after all.
“All I was saying is that the Spike I used to know would have killed me by
now…drained me dry…or at least have a plan to.”
He growled quietly as he walked away from her, distancing himself in a vain hope
of stopping himself from reacting to her words.
He stopped and closed his eyes as his head hung forwards.
What was he doing? What was she doing? Did she want him to kill her?
She was pressing all the right buttons to push him in that direction. The part
of him that was quickly going over what she’d said for clues came to the
conclusion that she wanted something to happen, she was provoking him for a
reason--possibly to make him slip up and reveal what he had in store for her.
He chuckled.
Like he knew himself.
If he knew what he had planned for her then he probably would have told her by
now, like how he’d told her about the gem, just to get a taste of the sweet
scent of her fear.
“Do you ever quit yammering?” Spike turned his head to the side and scowled at
her.
“Was a time you would have been fighting me…not healing me…protecting me…that’s
what you said, right? Protecting your interests? Protecting me?” Buffy watched
his face darken and hoped to any god listening that he would tell her what he
had in store for her. She didn’t have a death wish, but knowing what he was up
to would make her confinement a lot easier. Besides, it was actually quite fun
to tease him.
Spike snorted disdainfully at her.
“Come on, Spike, we both know you’re acting like a fledgling wet behind the
ears…what master vampire would rescue the Slayer?”
Spike snapped. In a split second, he was on the bed with his hands wrapped
tightly around her throat and his face shifted into vampire guise.
“Shut up…” He growled as he frowned down at her, his lip curling back and
exposing his fangs as he tightened his grip around her delicate throat.
Buffy tried to ignore the pain and stared up at him as he sneered down at her.
The warm feeling that had been lingering in her stomach swept like wild fire
through her body as her eyes met his, their deep amber iris’ twinkling with
anger as he pinned her to the bed. She swallowed hard and felt her heart race.
This was definitely wrong. Having feelings about Spike had been bad, but having
desirous feelings about Spike when he was in game face and half strangling her
was the worst thing imaginable.
Spike froze and let his grip loosen slightly as he realised what he was doing.
His chest heaved as he breathed rapidly, his eyes not leaving hers as his face
moulded back into human form.
Leaning forwards he brushed his cheek against hers and felt her tremble against
him, the warmth of her skin seeping into his.
He opened his mouth slowly and closed his eyes, listening hard for a reaction to
what he was going to say.
“You should watch your mouth, little missy.” He whispered it into the shell of
her ear and her heartbeat accelerated, her body going limp beneath him. He
slipped into vampire guise and nuzzled against her. “I might start to think
you’ve got a death wish…that you want this…” He let his teeth brush against her
neck and delighted in the small gasp that escaped her mouth as she wriggled
slightly. “…You want me.”
Swallowing down the lump of nerves that were trembling in her throat Buffy
closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’d never want a pathetic excuse for a vampire like you, Spike…you’re nothing.
I’d sooner have let that fledgling take me than have to lay here trapped and
waiting for you to grow some balls.”
She felt him slip out of game face and cursed herself for continuing to provoke
him. She didn’t know what made her do it--it was as if her mouth was working on
autopilot like it did when they fought, only this time she was locked up and
unable to do the actual fighting. Maybe that was it? She was fighting him the
only way she could--with words.
Spike pulled back and stared down at her, his lips pressing together until they
were nothing more than a thin line of anger across his face.
“Treading on dangerous ground, pet. There’s a reason I have you alive…but you’re
not going to get it out of me that way.” He frowned as she wriggled underneath
him, her body rubbing against his. “Not that way either.”
Buffy’s eyes widened and she stilled her movement beneath him.
“Timid little thing sometimes, aren’t you, love?” Spike purred down at her and
gave an appreciative glance down at her body. “All that power, locked away
inside you.” He ghosted a hand over her and watched her brows knit as her eyes
closed. “It’ll fade soon you know. First comes the hunger…then the
tiredness…exhaustion takes over and you’ll be as weak as a kitten, as a human.”
Buffy shot her eyes open and found him staring into them, his blue orbs cold and
hard as he looked down at her. She felt the bubble of panic inside her stomach
twist and explode. He was going to starve her, chain her up and wait for her to
grow weak before he made a move. She’d be defenceless, frail, her strength
reduced to that of a normal human. She swallowed hard and blinked up at him,
desperately trying not to let him see how his words had panicked her but knowing
from the glint that had entered his eyes that it was too late. He knew already.
Spike licked his lips again, seeing her so afraid of him was whetting his
appetite and he found his hand itching to make contact with her where they were
hovering just above her breast. Regaining control of himself he ghosted his hand
up to her cheek and held it there, just on the brink of touching her. He smiled
as her eyes closed, her breath coming out in a sigh as she furrowed her brows.
If he hadn’t known better he would have said she was enjoying it, that the
expression of pleasure she was wearing now was real and she wanted his hand on
her.
He tensed his jaw up and let his eyes close slightly as he looked down at her
face, then at his hand and then let his eyes slowly slide across to her lips.
Her lip-gloss had disappeared long back but her lips still looked a deep pinkish
red. He’d watched her chewing her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth and he’d
realised it was a sign of her nerves. Desire wound itself through his veins and
he found himself considering dipping his head and kissing her.
Spike pulled back and got off the bed, leaving Buffy lying with her eyes closed
in anticipation.
No.
To kiss her would be to show weakness and she’d feed off it, she’d play him
until he broke and he couldn’t let that happen. She’d questioned his motives and
abilities enough already without him giving her more ammunition to throw at him.
He stared down at her as she lay still, seemingly not wanting to open her eyes
or pull away from whatever she was feeling.
Why couldn’t he kill her? Was he weak like she’d said he was? Why hadn’t he done
it the second he’d got hold of her, swiftly drained her limp form and been done
with it--just another notch on his belt.
But no, he’d let her live and worse he’d healed her so she would be well again.
She was right. He wasn’t acting like himself but he wasn’t acting like a
fledgling vampire either. He was acting like some lovesick puppy.
Spike felt the feeling of desire in his veins twist and turn upon itself until
he felt sickened by it. It repulsed him, the thought that she could have such
power over him--that she did have such power over him. She’d had it from the
moment he’d first seen her, Drusilla had seen it in him immediately, she’d known
all along how it was going to play out. Was that why she’d acted that way with
Angelus?
The sick feeling in his stomach was replaced with seething anger at himself and
his weakness.
Turning sharply he left the room, locking it behind him and ignoring all his
minions as he stormed down the halls. His head swam with hateful thoughts, his
body ached with tension and his blood called for violence.
Violence.
Beautiful violence.
Like hers, theirs.
Spike grinned and wrapped his hand tightly around the nearest minions throat,
shoving him hard into the wall and holding him a foot off the ground.
The young vampire choked, his eyes full of fear as he stared into Spike’s.
“Do me a favour, mate.”
“Anything…S…S…Sir.”
“Something to eat…now, and some bourbon.” He let the vampire drop to the floor
and watched him scurry away down the halls, a smug satisfied feeling washing
through him as he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket.
Turning around he eyed the other vampires present, all staring at him with their
mouths hung open.
“What?” Spike frowned and lit his cigarette. Clicking his Zippo shut he gave
them a displeased look and waved his hand in a dismissive manner for emphasis.
“Get back to work.”
Walking down the hall to his bedroom, he kicked the door open and flicked the TV
on before flopping down onto the bed. His head ached from all the questions
buzzing in it. He wanted to go out, hunt and get drunk in some bar somewhere.
Wanted to forget all about her, but he couldn’t leave the lair. His minions were
as restless as he was--the divine scent of Slayer driving them slowly insane.
“Bloody minions.” He mumbled and looked over at the half empty bottle of bourbon
on his side table. It wouldn’t be enough to get him anywhere near drunk but it
was a start.
Picking it up, he pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a large mouthful.
He sighed as the liquor burnt his throat, warming him from the inside out and
instantly relaxing him.
Closing his eyes, he frowned as he pondered the question that was irritating him
the most.
Why couldn’t he kill her?
Spike stumbled in through the door, pushing it with
such force that it hit the wall hard and caused Buffy to jolt awake. Moving in a
rough line across the room he kept his eyes on her at all times, the near empty
second bottle of bourbon dangling limply from his left hand.
Buffy wriggled into a more comfortable position on the bed, clutching the sheets
to her as best she could and bringing her knees up in a move to protect herself
by seeming as small as possible. She let her eyes roam down his swaying form to
the bottle in his hand.
"Are you drunk?" She whispered quietly, afraid that if he really heard her
questioning him he would turn violent.
"What if I am?" Spike slurred back at her defiantly.
"Nothing…just didn't think vampires…"
"There's a lot 'bout us you don't know…Miss High-and-mighty." He stumbled
backwards a few steps and landed on the vanity table with a loud thud, knocking
over the knick-knacks that resided on top of it.
Buffy watched the pain flicker across his face, a slight edge of disorientation
in his eyes as he looked at his new position--his backside resting against the
table.
He held the bottle up and stared at it. "Takes a little more…but we still get
drunk."
"Why?" She frowned, unsure of why she felt the need to question his motives but
feeling she had to do so all the same, no matter how much it could piss him off.
"Just 'cause." Spike frowned down at the table and pushed off it, wobbling to
his feet before drinking down another mouthful of bourbon. He sucked his cheeks
in and pursed his lips as he looked down at her, his expression hard as he
thought about what she'd said to him earlier that day. "You know what…I don't
know where you get off…"
"Huh?" Buffy looked confused, was she the reason he was now drunk beyond any
mortal capacity?
"…Saying shit about me when look at you…hardly bloody perfect…stupid hair…stupid
boyfriends…can't keep 'em though can you?" He stumbled towards her and grabbed
hold of the corner post at the end of the bed. His expression darkened. "…Least
I know who I am…"
Buffy's eyes widened as he chuckled at her, the sound of it and his words
cutting into her heart like a knife. She knew he was only being spiteful but
he'd hit too close to the mark that time.
"Shall I tell you something…Buffy?" Holding on tightly to the post, he
swigged another mouthful from the bottle.
"Oh, please do. Enlighten me." Buffy sneered up at him, no longer caring if she
angered him with her words.
He chuckled again.
"Always were feisty." Spike looked thoughtful. "Maybe that's the problem, too
feisty for them?"
Buffy glared at him as he grinned down at her, even in his drunken state he
seemed to be able to see straight through her and read her like she was an open
book.
"I hate you."
"Keep telling yourself that." Spike drank the remains of his bourbon and ran his
fingers lightly down the post as he stared at it dreamily. "You have…all that
power…all that grace…but you push away from it. You're the strongest one I've
met…you know? But you're the only one who won't accept who she was…who she
is…you hide behind a mantle of lies…pretending to be someone that you know you
aren't, hiding away from your true power…"
"True power?" Buffy frowned up at him as he stroked the post, almost caressing
it as he continued to talk as if she hadn't even spoken.
"Did he tell you? Your precious Watcher…no…" Spike looked into her eyes and
shook his head. "He didn't, did he?"
"Tell me what?" She cursed herself for actually being intrigued by what he was
saying.
"You belong in the night, with the demons, with me." He smiled as her eyes
widened, her horror and disgust showing through more than her confusion over
what he was saying.
"No…I don't belong with you…you disgust me…"
Spike roared and threw the bottle hard at the wall.
Buffy flinched as she curled up into a ball and listened to glass raining down
onto the floor. She could feel anger emanating from him, could feel it lacing
his signature and it made her stomach turn.
"You're mine, Buffy…whether you accept it or not…I own you now."
"No…never…you can't own me…no one does." Buffy frowned at the words as they left
her lips, no one owned her because she never let them, didn't let anyone get
close enough to her that they could place a claim on her affections or her
heart. Not since Angel.
With a lightning fast but somewhat uncoordinated movement, Spike was beside her,
grasping her wrists tightly as he breathed heavily, struggling to make her open
up and look at him.
"Look at me…" Spike growled and Buffy raised her eyes defiantly.
When he ran a finger lightly down her cheek Buffy furrowed her brows. Her body
trembled and her wrist ached under the pressure of the tight grip he had on it.
"You belong in the night, Buffy…your power is rooted in it, rooted in evil. I've
read what the Watchers keep hidden from you, hidden from all the girls they use.
I know you, Buffy…I know what you are…the violence inside of you."
"No…" Buffy ground out harshly and pulled her wrist free from Spike's grip. Her
heart pounded hard against her ribs as she struggled to brush aside what he was
saying. "No…you don't know me…"
"You're right…" Spike relented and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on
his thighs as he looked deep into her bright green orbs and watched them sparkle
with fire. "I don't know you…because you don't even know yourself."
She swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes, his expression was cold and
unemotional, and his eyes were hard and empty. Teasing her lip with her teeth,
she didn't notice his gaze dropping to rest on her mouth, his look changing to
fascination as he watched her.
It was wrong of her to be curious about what he'd been saying. Wrong of her to
want to sit with him and ask him a million questions about the Slayers he'd
fought and the things about her that he claimed to know. He was holding her
captive, chained in a bedroom and she'd spent what could only be days studying
his mood swings--how he could go from calm to berserk in an instant, a split
second, not even the drop of a hat.
Raising her eyes up she realised he was watching her gnawing away at her lip,
her teeth worrying it as she thought about what he'd said. His eyes were calm
and tender as he watched her, intrigue clearly echoed in his expression. He was
definitely drunk. Drunk beyond anything she'd imagined possible and now he was
sitting just a foot from her.
Her heartbeat accelerated at that thought and she dropped her eyes to rest on
where his knees were and the small gap between them and her feet. She was in
more danger now than she'd ever been. Drunken humans were bad enough if you
pissed them off, she dreaded to think what he would be capable of in his
condition--one wrong move and he'd either kill her or worse.
The clinking of chains bought her attention to the fact she was subconsciously
rubbing her wrists, and reminded her of the heavy restraints that held her
captive and a victim of his will.
Spike let his eyes to rest on her hands. Her wrists were red raw where the
manacles had been cutting into her soft flesh and he found himself staring
blankly, dreamlike, at the small line of cuts that were bleeding from where
she'd scratched them.
He growled.
Buffy's fingers froze.
Her heartbeat rocketed.
"So…tell me about um…vampires…" Buffy felt the bubble of panic explode in her
stomach, her veins washing with full-blown fear as he licked his lips and moved
his eyes to rest on her neck. "Clearly you've had too much to drink…really think
you should carefully consider…"
"Oh, I've considered it, love…from the second I bought you in here, limp and
unconscious in my arms I've been considering it…sweet taste of Slayer
blood…yours is divine…real ambrosia, nectar of heaven…"
Buffy didn't like the sound of that.
"Really…thought you'd have more pressing matters like…oh…your minions revolting
against you?" She'd heard the fights each night since she'd been here. The fact
he hadn't left the lair was testament to how bad things were.
"Revolting…let them…I've got a pretty little Slayer…I can hire any demons I want
with you all caged up…"
"Huh?"
"Leverage, pet…I threaten them with the release of you and suddenly everyone
wants to work for old Spike." He grinned down at her and inhaled sharply. The
scent of her fear was overwhelming, making his head spin worse than the alcohol
had been.
Reaching a hand out he brushed the hair from her neck, watching her eyes widen
with fear as he did so. The slight gasp she made as his cool fingers coursed
down her neck was enough to make him ache inside. His whole being wanted to be
close to her--inside her in one way or another.
Leaning forward, Spike noted with a smile that she didn't raise her hands to
stop him, she just kept still like a scared rabbit as his lips brushed against
her neck lightly.
"Spike…" Buffy furrowed her brows as she remained frozen, her heart beating
rapidly and her shallow breathing her only movements. "Spike?"
She frowned.
He nuzzled her neck.
Buffy braced herself for him to bite her.
But it never came.
Craning her neck away from him she looked down out of the corner of her eye to
see him slipping out of game face, his eyes closed as he snorted slightly in his
sleep. She grimaced under the dead weight of him as he leant against her body,
his hand playing on her side as he slumbered on.
"Great…pass out on me why don't you…" She tried to wriggle free of him but found
him holding her tighter. Sighing out her breath, she winced as he pressed hard
against her ribs, his body heavy against her slender frame. "…Christ you're
heavy…stupid Spike…get the hell off me you…"
She blinked as she looked down at the pocket in his jeans, the outline of keys
clearly visible through the tight material.
"Don't know how you get into those damn things." Buffy muttered at him as she
tried to reach down, stretching as far as she could go in her restraints.
She struggled against the chains and kept her eyes fixed on his face the whole
time, watching for signs that she was doing wasn't waking him. When she realised
that they were too far away to reach without disturbing him she heaved a long
sigh of resignation and relaxed back against the headboard.
Spike mumbled something and tugged her closer to him, his head now snugly
resting against her chest.
"Oh…vast improvement." Buffy groused as she looked down at him, his face
softened by sleep and a contented smile twitching on his lips. He looked almost
sweet when he was asleep; the usually hard lines of his face now smooth. He
appeared vulnerable, human even.
It hit her hard that he was human once, long before the demon had taken
residence inside him. She'd seen lingering elements of the man he used to be
still in him, moments where he'd shown her just how different he was to the
vampires she usually met. He was more human than all of them, all except Angel.
She frowned. He was almost as human as Angel. Wasn't it the soul that made Angel
human? If that was true then what was it that made Spike that way?
Letting her eyes linger on his face she blinked slowly as she took in the gentle
curves of his cheeks and the serenity of his expression.
Curiosity taking over, she ran her fingers lightly over his cheek and nearly
withdrew her hand quickly as she realised how soft his skin was--not hard and
cold like she'd expected it to be but silky and almost warm. She smiled
absentmindedly as she let her fingers trace the curve of his brow, moving down
over his cheek to his lips.
He twitched his nose and his lips parted slightly.
Buffy took her hand away from him and sighed.
Closing her eyes she did the only thing she could do--followed him into the land
of nod.
Spike smacked his lips together as he woke, his head spinning and aching.
Blinking slightly he paused when he realised he felt warm.
He was wrapped up in something, someone.
Slow steady heartbeat.
Gentle shallow breathing.
He inhaled deeply.
Slayer.
Fluttering his eyes open, he was greeted by an eyeful of cotton-covered breast.
He smiled.
What made things even better was the fact that his hateful Slayer had her
chained arms wrapped as tight around him as she could manage, holding him to her
chest as she slept, cradling him to her.
Spike's smile widened into a grin which soon faded under the pressure of the
pain numbing his brain.
Sighing with contentment, he snuggled into her chest and closed his eyes again,
wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep in her arms.
"Oh god." Buffy woke with a start, her hands releasing him and pushing against
his shoulders until he fell off her.
"Hey!" Spike frowned up at her as she pushed him away. "You were the one with
the death grip on me, love…"
"What…no…you started it, with your stupid passing out, Mister
Can't-handle-his-drink." Buffy found herself half frowning and half pouting at
him. She quickly stopped, her face becoming a mask of indifference over the
situation while her insides swirled with conflict over how nice it had felt.
"Suit yourself…I could always finish what I was about to start." He eyed her
neck and grinned at her as she tugged the covers up to her chin.
Sliding off the bed he ran his hand over his hair and searched the room for his
cigarettes. His stomach growled. At least he thought it had been his stomach.
He turned slowly to find Buffy looking away from him, her eyes cast down at the
sheets and a sheepish look on her face.
"Hungry, pet?" Spike cocked his head to one side as he approached her, his
movements slow.
"I'm fine." She kept her face turned away from him as he sat down on the bed
next to her.
"Still dark out…could get you something…got to get me something anyway." Spike
tried to ignore the part of him that said he shouldn't be leaving her--she
wouldn't be safe with his minions acting up. But he needed to get out of the
lair, needed to feel the cool night air against his skin and breathe it all
in--clearing his head of thoughts of her and what was happening to him.
Buffy felt a chill sweep up her spine at his words. He was going out to hunt and
it made the conflict inside her grow worse. Part of her was quietly thankful
that he wasn't intending to make her his next meal and he clearly wasn't going
to starve her either. He seemed to be having too much fun with her around to
consider that just yet. But part of her was feeling nervous about being left
alone in the lair without him to protect her from his remaining minions. She'd
heard their chatter outside the door while he'd been sleeping, whispered
comments about her and their master.
Looking into Spike's eyes, she couldn't find the strength to tell him not to go,
she couldn't let him see that she needed him around, that she was scared to be
alone.
"Won't be long." Spike smiled and lit his cigarette.
Buffy watched him take a long drag on it, the smoke seeping gently from his lips
before he blew it out into the cool air of the bedroom.
She glanced nervously at the door.
Spike followed her gaze. He hated himself for what he was about to say. Never
mind bringing her back alive, now he was adding to it by wanting to keep her
safe.
"I'll lock the door." He placed his hand softly on her knee and saw her eyes
flicker to it, her look turning worried and he knew it wasn't all about the
door, it was about the things that were happening between them--he could feel it
too.
Standing sharply he stormed out.
Buffy listened to him muttering as he locked her inside her strange prison.
Casting a glance around the walls, the room seemed suddenly massive, a large
foreboding space full of shadows that seemed to grow shapes, long tendril like
fingers reaching out for her.
She curled up and hugged her knees tightly.
She wished Spike were back already.
A series of low growls outside her door made Buffy
curl up into a tight ball, her heartbeat increasing as adrenaline and fear
flooded her veins. Spike still wasn't back. He'd been gone for what seemed like
an eternity and now his minions were starting to scratch at the door like
wolves.
Closing her eyes, she jumped as the sound of splintering wood filled the room.
She could feel the vampire's signatures as they forced their way in, rushing
towards her like a wave of pain and death. Gripping the chains tightly, she
gritted her teeth and lashed out as they tried to seize hold of her, their
fingernails scratching at her exposed skin as she attempted to fight them off.
As one vampire mounted the bed and lunged towards her she kicked it backwards
and watched it fly across the room, hitting the opposite wall hard and slumping
into unconsciousness.
Panic filled her.
Fear fuelled her.
She felt like she was fighting for her life as her eyes darted around the room,
absorbing as much information in as short a space of time as possible. There
were at least six of them, all circling the bed and all reaching for her at the
same time. There was no way she could take them all; the chains that bound her
wrists were making it too hard for her to fight and she supposed that was why
Spike had made them the length they were--so she couldn't effectively fight him.
A sharp pain in her thigh made her scream out in agony and roughly kick the
minion responsible. Her heart felt as if it was about to smash out of her chest
and she could feel her cheeks becoming tear stained as her fear turned to cold
realisation--she was going to die.
There was no way she could stop them all.
Gritting her teeth she made a low growling noise and punched one of her
attackers that had strayed too close to her fists. Lashing out with her legs,
she desperately tried to hit as many of them as she could. She could feel them
all trying to grab her and pin her down to the bed, could sense them all
surrounding her as her vision blurred with pain. On her body she could feel a
million small cuts, all stinging as her muscles ached from struggling against
her assailants. Hands with grips of iron wrapped themselves tightly around her
forearms and she tried to pull away from them as she watched in abject horror
the vampire in front of her. He was mounting the bed. Slinking towards her as
the others fought to keep her restrained.
"No…" Buffy breathed and shook her head, her eyes widening in fear as she
furrowed her brows.
Death she could handle.
This she couldn't.
Making a last attempt to free herself she managed to pull her arms together,
forcing the two vampires on either side of her to bash their skulls together
hard enough to be knocked out. She screamed as two others grabbed hold of her
legs, their claws ripping through her jeans and their grip bruising her tired
flesh.
Buffy looked up at the vampire now trying to pry apart her knees, his face
contorted into a vicious sneer as he grinned at the others pinning her down and
restraining her. She felt like she was slipping away, her consciousness drawing
itself back inside, away from her body as though there they couldn't hurt
her--they could only take her flesh and not her heart and soul.
Closing her eyes and frowning hard, she felt tears slipping down her cheeks as
her body ached, the tight grasps of the vampires holding her and marking her
with deep bruises.
She felt the vampire's nails rake down her thighs, his hips nestling in between
her knees as his hands coursed back up her body to her shirt. Staring blankly at
the ceiling, she felt oddly detached as he ripped apart her shirt, exposing her
seemingly frail body to the cool air of the room. She swallowed the painful lump
in her throat as resignation hit her like a tidal wave, her emotions washing
away with it as she wished she were dead already. Feeling his hands tearing
apart her jeans, she closed her eyes again and wished she were far away. Safe
again.
A loud roar filled her ears and the signature of a master vampire swirled in her
stomach. The sound of the minions disintegrating and dust raining down all
around didn't rouse her from her numb state of mind. She felt the vampire
between her legs disappear and the grips on her limbs disintegrate, leaving her
tired body free from their restraint. Immediately curling up into a ball she
wept in earnest as she drew the covers around her, the marginal feeling of
security they gave her simply not enough to make her feel any better.
Spike twisted the head off the minion kneeling before Buffy, his chest heaving
with exertion as he looked around the room at the remaining vampire. He watched
him dash out of the door with a petrified look on his face. Spike roared at him
in a show of authority.
He panted hard as he finally looked down at Buffy.
She was curled up so tight.
So small.
So frail.
Frowning, he felt a weight of pain hit him hard in his chest. He'd done this.
He'd left her alone when it had been clear to him that she didn't feel safe.
"What have I done?" Spike whispered as he stared blankly at her, his eyes
roaming over her curled up form on the bed. From what he could see of her she
was covered in cuts and bruises, her clothes ruined by the vicious assault. He
didn't want to think about what could have happened if he hadn't come back when
he did. His whole body seemed revolted at the thought and pushed away from it.
Moving around the bed, he lowered his head to look at her, trying to catch sight
of her face as she clung to the sheet.
Spike growled.
This was his fault.
He'd fix it.
Pulling the key from his pocket, he went to catch hold of her hands but she
pulled away from him, a whimper escaping her lips as she tried to back away
across the bed.
"Shh…love…not going to hurt you."
She looked up at him with scared bloodshot eyes that seemed to pierce his heart.
Holding his hands up by his sides, he smiled slightly at her, showing her the
keys and then pointing to the manacles.
"Just want to set you free, love…promise I won't hurt you."
Leaning forwards again he moved slowly, making sure every movement he made
wasn't distressing her further and hoping that what he was doing was getting
through to her. She looked so vacant, her eyes wide and her lashes wet with
tears.
Spike watched a tear roll down her cheek as he unlocked her restraints. He
wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe her tears away but knew if he
did, he would only scare her further. He needed to get her feeling as normal as
possible, needed to help her get rid of the images that were probably lingering
in her head. He'd seen girls, toys of his previous masters with the same
expression she was wearing, like they weren't at home anymore--the body was
there but the mind had drifted away to a safe place. He needed to get her back.
Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he set her free and then wrapped the sheet
tighter around her, trying to make it clear he wasn't going to try anything.
Scooping her up in his arms he swallowed hard as fresh tears rolled down her
cheeks, her brows furrowing as she looked into his eyes.
"Not going to hurt you…we need to get you clean…" He whispered quietly, hoping
it would soothe her and help stop her tears.
Buffy blinked at him.
A wide smile settled on his lips.
It was the first sign of her being conscious that he'd seen.
"Hey…beautiful…you in there?" Spike narrowed his eyes warmly on hers and watched
her brows smooth out as she let her head rest against his arm. "Let's get you
cleaned up."
Carrying her to the lair's makeshift shower, Spike's eyes remained on Buffy's as
he thought about how he was going to do what came next. He needed her out of her
clothes so he could clean her. He knew she wouldn't be able to clean herself. If
he put her under the shower she'd just stand there, blank and empty, motionless.
Setting her down as he reached the small corner of the cave where he'd broken a
water pipe and fixed up something resembling a shower, Spike took a moment to
assess the situation and Buffy.
His remaining minions had scurried far into the recesses of the caves and the
few he'd seen on his way to the shower had quickly disappeared, making it clear
to him that they wouldn't be watched.
His eyes moved to rest on Buffy.
She was standing in the middle of the room, clinging to the sheet that was
wrapped around her and rapidly becoming stained with her blood. He sighed as he
looked at her. Her expression vacant, her fine golden hair a mess of tangles and
sweat, her lower lip trembling as she fought back the tears.
She was broken.
The woman he once saw as proud, like a lioness, was nothing more than a frail
girl.
Reality was harsh.
But she didn't deserve this.
This was his fault.
Taking a slow step towards her he watched her eyes dart up to meet his, her
expression turning scared once more and he realised it was probably the Slayer
in control. She could sense a vampire nearby and his signature meant nothing but
danger to her.
"Hey…Buffy…" He dipped his head so his eyes were level with hers, making it
easier on her to look at him and making himself appear smaller so she wouldn't
be as scared by his presence. "We need to get you clean, love…might be a little
cold…"
He reached out to remove the sheet but stopped as she tensed, her fingers
grasping it tighter as she looked petrified.
"Shh…love…" Spike held his hands up again, letting his voice turn gentle as he
pointed at the shower. "Just want to get you clean…um…not going to hurt you
Buffy…can you hear me? Not going to hurt you…"
He watched her relax slightly, her fingers releasing their vice-like grip on the
white material wrapped about her.
Spike slowly removed the sheet and placed it to one side.
"Now comes the part where you either show me some trust or kick my arse…god I
hope it's the former, pet…you've been through enough for one lifetime…"
Buffy blinked languidly. Her eyes widened as she watched him coming back towards
her.
He smiled as he found her eyes following his movements, another tiny sign that
she was still in there somewhere.
He paused.
His fingers trembled as he considered how to do this.
She was going to kill him.
"Buffy…" Spike whispered as he moved towards her. "Got to get you clean,
remember nice showers? Make Buffy all clean again…please, love…don't kill me…"
He closed his eyes as he touched the collar of her shirt, waiting with baited
breath for her reaction. When she didn't lash out at him, he opened one eye and
then the other. She was staring straight into them.
Slowly removing her shirt, he looked down at the flimsy cotton material in his
hands and then back up at Buffy. She had folded her arms across her chest.
He frowned.
"I'm sorry, love." He sighed as he looked down at her jeans. "Wish there was
another way…wish I hadn't left you…it was stupid of me…god, I'm a wanker…"
Buffy blinked.
Spike tentatively reached his hand out and touched the waistband of her jeans,
she tensed for a moment and then relaxed again as he met her eyes.
"Not going to hurt you…"
Buffy shook her head.
Spike smiled, his insides warming through from receiving a more positive sign of
life from her.
Slipping her jeans down he watched her hands race to cover what was already
hidden beneath her cream underwear.
Moving over to the shower, he turned the water on and put his hand under it, it
was tepid at best.
"This might be cold. Won't keep you here long…" Spike removed his red shirt and
placed it with the sheet. Grabbing hold of Buffy's ruined shirt in one hand and
reaching out to her with the other, he smiled warmly as she walked towards him,
her steps shaky.
Buffy flinched as the water hit her.
It was cold.
Startling.
She felt as if she was being dragged forcibly back into the world.
Whimpering, she looked up at the water as it rained down on her, her body
trembling with cold and fatigue as she let the water wash away the lingering
dirty feeling on her skin.
Closing her eyes, she let her tears fall once more, not caring if she looked
weak and not caring what he'd think of her.
Spike frowned as he watched her lower lip trembling and he knew it wasn't
because of the cold.
Shutting the water off he took a long deep breath and picked the sheet up before
walking towards her where she stood dripping wet in a puddle.
"Need to dry you off, love…not going to hurt you…"
She watched his movements like a hawk as he patted and dabbed her skin gently
with the sheet, drying her off as best he could with what he had available. Her
hands never left her body, they remained stuck to her as she tried to hide
herself from him.
Spike sighed.
Her arms and legs were littered with deep gashes that began bleeding again as he
brushed the cloth against them, on her pale skin he could see patches of dark
bruising starting to appear and they formed shapes like the handprints of her
attackers.
Walking around behind her he saw her head turn slightly, her eyes trying to
follow his movements so she could see exactly what he was up to. He squeezed the
excess water from her hair before drying her back and her legs. With every
stroke of the sheet he could feel her trembling under his hands, could sense the
fear and distress coming off her in sickening waves.
Heaving a long sigh, he let the dirty, wet sheet drop to the ground and watched
her brows furrow as she looked from it to her half naked form.
"Don't worry, pet…we'll get you covered up." Moving across the room, he picked
up his red shirt and walked back to her.
She followed his hands as he gently slipped the shirt onto her and slowly
buttoned it up, her hands hanging limp at her sides as she started to feel more
comfortable again.
Spike looked down at her legs. They had sustained most of the attack and were
still bleeding profusely. He momentarily considered asking her if she would let
him close the wounds for her but something inside him said she would say no and
he would feel foolish for ever mentioning it.
Or believing she would trust him now.
Frowning hard, he continued to stare at her legs.
Buffy furrowed her brows at the stony cold expression on his face.
She backed away a step and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.
Spike blinked and raised his eyes to meet hers, his expression instantly
softening as he realised he was scaring her.
"Sorry, pet…just trying to figure out what to do…they need to heal…" He pointed
to her legs and saw her eyes slowly move to rest on them, her face a mask of
blankness once more. "…Can't cover them up tonight, they need air and time to
heal…" He lowered his voice and eyes as he mumbled. "…I'd heal them, but I don't
think you'd like that…"
Buffy blinked and rubbed her arms, trying to warm them up through the thin
material of his shirt.
"Come on, love. Let's get you back and warmed up, all comfy and stuff." Spike
went to move towards her but she backed away a step, her eyes wide as she
blinked at him.
He knit his brows as he tried to figure out what was wrong with her now.
Something he'd said had clearly upset her but he couldn't figure out what it
was. This day had to rank up there with the worst ones of his existence. Trying
to relieve the weight of guilt and the feelings he felt while at the same time
working out what was going through her head without her actually speaking was
proving to be more than difficult.
She hadn't been bothered by his mention of healing her wounds for her, she'd
just intimated in her own little way that she was cold.
It had been his mention of taking her back to the bedroom.
"Stupid, Spike." He growled at himself as he realised it would be the last place
she'd want to go after her ordeal. Raising his eyes to meet hers, he dipped his
head and smiled slightly at her. "Won't take you there, take you somewhere safe,
somewhere they can't get to you."
He knew she wouldn't understand if he told her he'd killed almost all her
attackers anyway, leaving one alive to let the others know what happens to his
minions when they mess with his captive. She would just think of all the others,
the ones they had caught fleeting glimpses of on their way to the shower.
Holding his hand out to her, he watched her eyes move to rest on it, her arms
releasing their protective grasp on her body as she slipped her hand shakily
into his.
"Can I carry you, pet?" Spike nodded down at her legs and her bare feet. "Might
be a little uncomfortable and painful for you to walk."
When she didn't move to run away he scooped her up into his arms again and
sighed as her head settled against his chest, her fingers grasping his black
t-shirt tightly as he started to walk with her.
Looking down at her the whole time he considered just how long it was going to
take her to recover, to come out of her shell and back into the world again.
Part of him was saying that he should take her back to her Watcher's house or
her mother's, the other part of him didn't want to be apart from her when she
was so frail and vulnerable.
And that scared him.
He swallowed hard as his eyes met hers, he could see the tears still threatening
to spill over but there seemed to be a little more life in her green orbs now as
they watched him quietly, almost calmly.
"You still in there, Buffy? Love?" Spike held her a little tighter to him as he
turned a corner and started down the long corridor to his bedroom. "Just a sign,
pet…anything…blink if you can hear me in there."
He held his breath as he watched her, her face a mask of stony silence.
Just as he was about to give up hope of getting a sign from her, she blinked.
He smiled slightly.
"There's my girl."
Nudging the door open with the toe of his heavy boot,
Spike carried her inside and ignored the voice in his head that said she would
kill him when she realised he'd taken her to his own bedroom. But it was the
safest place he knew, no minions would dare enter it.
He placed her down gently on the bed and watched as her eyes moved around the
room, taking in her new surroundings. Picking a thick blanket up from the pile
on top of the chest of drawers, Spike put it down on the bed beside her and let
his eyes fall to rest on her legs again--there were small trickles of blood
seeping from the wounds where he'd disturbed them while drying her.
"I'll let you get some rest." Spike stood and went to move away from the bed but
found her hand grasping his firmly as she let out a quiet, almost desperate
whimper.
Turning his head around to look down at her, he found her gazing up at him with
a face full of fear and as she moved her eyes to rest on the door he knew what
she was saying--she didn't want to be left alone, she was scared they'd come
back and get her.
Conflict reigned inside him as he watched her gradually release his arm. He had
already allowed his emotions to have too much control over his actions tonight
and now she was asking him to stay with her.
To protect her.
What was worse was that he wanted to.
God did he want to.
He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go, wanted to whisper
sweet words of comfort to her as he held her tightly to him and cradled her.
Wanted to smooth down her wet hair and touch her cheek as he thought about how
she was more beautiful than anything he'd seen in his long existence.
Spike swallowed noisily as he tried to push the ever poetic William back into
his cage so he wouldn't fill his head with such thoughts.
Glancing over at the door, it seemed like his last chance for freedom.
He was teetering on the edge now, treading along the thin and treacherous line
that separated the demon from William, the enemy from the lover, the man who
wanted to kill the Slayer from the man who wanted to love and protect her.
He moved his eyes from the door to the space on the bed by her feet and back to
the door again.
He could do it.
Could just walk out that door and lock it, sit outside it if that was the
furthest distance his feelings would allow him to put between him and the
Slayer.
But he couldn't stay here.
Couldn't offer her the protection she wanted.
Needed.
Was pleading for.
Because if he did that then he would have to admit that she wasn't the only one
that fell the night he'd rescued her and chained her up. He'd have to admit that
the reason he'd kept her alive and healed her wounds wasn't because he wanted to
have her healthy again so he could kill her himself.
He would have to admit there were deeper feelings at work and that William was
right.
She was an angel.
She was beautiful.
Clenching fists and his jaw up tightly he took a step towards the door, inhaling
sharply as he went to move away from her.
He frowned and closed his eyes as he felt somewhere in his chest region tug him
back towards her.
It was hopeless.
Stepping backwards, Spike sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed.
He was done for now.
Buffy blinked at him, her knees bought up to her chest and her hands wrapped
around them as she watched him. It felt as if she was watching him from a
distance, like she was far away from the real world, shut safely away from harm,
locked in a place where they couldn't touch her. His decision to stay with her
made her stomach feel warm, her body relax slightly and she felt almost ready to
take another tiny step towards reality and away from the comforting shell she'd
been hiding in.
"I'll stay…if it makes you feel safer knowing I'm nearby…I'll stay and you can
get some kip. Won't let them come and get you." Spike sighed again and looked
into her eyes, she still looked so withdrawn but there was something in there
this time, a tiny spark of life.
Moving his eyes down her body, he noted how she was curled up in a protective
manner, sitting in a way that made her as small as possible. It only added to
the feeling he had inside, the need to protect her when she looked so weak, so
human.
Lowering his eyes still he let them come to rest on her legs, the small rivulets
of blood were gradually making their way down her pale skin. Locking his eyes on
one of her wounds, he felt like it was calling to him, his hunger for blood
mixing in with his desire to heal her wounds as he stared at the small thin red
line glistening in the low light.
His eyes unfocused as he tentatively reached his hand out, his head emptying of
thought as he licked his lips and became so absorbed in the sight and smell of
her blood that he forgot how much he could be scaring her by attempting to touch
her where her attackers had.
But he was mesmerised.
Enthralled.
He heard her breathe in sharply as his finger caught the droplet of red that had
begun to run down the side of her right calf.
Bringing his finger away from her he kept his eyes fixed on the tantalising
smear of red on his fingertip and avoided her gaze. He feared the worst as he
struggled with his demon, trying to hold it at bay as he told himself he'd
scared her enough by stealing this tiny amount of blood from her without turning
vampire on her.
He breathed heavily as he bought the drop of crimson to his lips, the sweet
scent of her blood pervading his senses until it took all he had to refrain from
slipping into game face. He knew what he was doing was dangerous, could make her
slip further away from him but he couldn't stop himself--it called to him,
begged him to taste it, to swallow it down and delight in the heavenly feeling
it evoked.
Slipping his finger into his mouth, he closed his eyes as the blood touched his
tongue and exhaled his pleasure sharply through his nose. The delicious taste
he'd had of her when he'd first bought her down to his lair had set in motion a
vicious cycle within him. He'd crave the sweetness of her blood and the warmth
of her, and then he'd hate her for what she was doing to him before reverting
back to needing her again.
Addiction.
She was his drug.
As she shifted her feet so they were stretched out flat along the bed, Spike
came out of his reverie and ran his eyes up her legs to her face.
She was watching him.
Green eyes boring into his as his finger remained in his mouth.
Her eyes moved to rest on her legs and then flitted back to him.
Spike swallowed hard, unsure of what she was trying to say as she looked into
his eyes. He wished she'd find her voice again, her being quiet for so long was
starting to play on his nerves, he was so used to her being verbose--witty quips
and pointed comebacks that always stirred a fire within him.
Now there was nothing.
Silence reigned even as her eyes were gradually sparking back into life.
"Buffy…love. I don't know what you're trying to tell me, pet. Show me." He
cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes on hers as she blinked at him.
Buffy raised her finger to her lips, licked it and then reached down and wiped
the trail of blood from one of the cuts on her thighs. She looked back into
Spike's eyes as he frowned curiously at her. She repeated the process.
Spike watched her lick her finger again and wipe more blood off her leg. It was
clear she wasn't commenting on his earlier action because she was doing the
reverse to what he'd done, where he had licked his finger after wiping her blood
up she was licking her finger before.
His eyes widened as it dawned on him.
He swore if his heart could still beat it would've stopped in that moment.
"You want me to…to…" Spike's eyes moved from hers to her legs and he licked his
lips again, the small streaks of blood calling to his blood, enticing him.
"…Clean them?"
A slight movement of her head.
He took it as a yes.
"How…I mean…don't want to scare you, love. Don't think you'd appreciate me going
all wrinklies on you."
Buffy closed her eyes.
"Oh…thought of everything then…"
Looking at her face he narrowed his eyes, she looked so serene, like a marble
statue of some beauty--of Venus herself.
He cleared his throat and grounded himself with the thought that underneath her
cool exterior her emotions were more than likely twisting and turning upon
themselves, fighting against each other as she struggled to maintain a calm
façade. The quicker he got this over with the quicker she'd be on her way to
recovery and the less he'd scare her.
Inhaling deeply to steady himself he gave one last look at her face to make sure
her eyes really were closed and then slid into vampire guise, his teeth
elongating as his demon came forth.
He moved to kneel on the bed and he couldn't miss how it seemed he was
worshipping her, kneeling reverently by her feet in the hopes of receiving a
taste of her.
Spike closed his eyes as he dipped his head, his fingers digging into the
bedspread as he tentatively reached out towards her leg with the tip of his
tongue.
The first tang of metallic rang through his body like electricity, coursing
along his every nerve until he was poised on the edge, his body tensed and ready
for the next dose of her blood. Moving his lips closer to her leg, he flattened
his tongue as he repeatedly licked the first wound by her ankle. He rolled his
eyes as his body hummed with delight at the way she tasted, the sweetness
feeding the addiction to her that he already felt.
Moving his way up her left leg, he cleaned one wound after another until he
reached her knee. He stared at it and tensed his jaw. It seemed like a line, a
point of no return that he had to summon up the courage to cross. On the other
side of it lay her thigh, he moved his eyes to rest there, the soft bronzed skin
of it marred with long gashes of red but it was still a temptation beyond
anything he'd felt with her. Shifting on the bed, he moved into a more
comfortable position and tried to fight the desire to press a kiss to the patch
of untouched skin on her thigh just in front of his eyes.
He swallowed hard, the feeling of a trace amount of her blood in his veins
making his whole body buzz. Courage seemed a long way off but the preternatural
high from her blood was enough to drive him on.
Lowering his lips he paused when they were just above her thigh, he glanced out
the corner of his eye at her and was satisfied when she still had her eyes
closed. Bringing his eyes back to rest on her thigh he zeroed them in on the
clear patch of skin in front of him, smooth and temptingly warm as he hovered
just mere centimetres above it. Closing his eyes, he dipped his head and pressed
a wet kiss to it, inhaling deeply through his nose as he savoured the delicious
combination of the scent of her skin and the taste of it.
Buffy felt her heart echo a little faster in her ears, the dull sound of it
becoming clearer and clearer as she found herself opening her eyes a fraction to
see what was happening, a sudden desire to see him overtaking her.
She let her lips part slightly as she watched him pressing a long kiss to her
thigh, his eyes closed and brows knit in seeming reverence of her. Her stomach
squirmed, the feelings inside her swirling and conflicting with each other as
her Slayer side fought for dominance over her emotions. She squashed it down as
she watched him, his face in demonic guise but his actions undeniably tender,
and she knew it wasn't all about her blood this time. This time it was just
about her. During her withdrawn daze, she'd seen the edge of affection in his
eyes when it had slipped free of its restraints and broken to the surface. She
could see that same affection written in the lines of his face as he moved slow
kisses along her thigh.
Over the cuts on her legs.
She stared at them.
Thin, painful lines of red drawn into her flesh.
She frowned.
Her eyes filled with tears as the images of her attackers came flooding back.
Closing her eyes, she felt herself slipping away again, withdrawing from the
real world and hiding away in the safe place she'd made.
Spike looked up and frowned as he listened to her heartbeat, for a moment he
could have sworn that it had sped up but it was beating steadily at the same
rate it had been for the past few hours. Seeing her looking the same as she had
before he'd started cleaning her wounds, he dipped his head and started licking
the cuts again.
As he ingested more and more of her blood he felt himself grow ever increasingly
overcome, the rich powerful taste of it making his body feel lax and
unresponsive as he continued to heal the cuts that littered her legs.
He took his time as he cleaned and healed the last of her wounds on her right
thigh, savouring every drop of her blood as though it was his last and he'd
never taste anything as divine as this again. He smiled dazedly as he closed his
eyes and lay back on the bed with his head level with her stomach, allowing
himself a few moments to enjoy the feeling of her inside him, awakening his
feelings and connecting him to her.
Buffy opened her eyes and looked down at him where he lay, his face slipping out
of vampire guise and a contented smile playing on his lips. She blinked down at
him and let herself come out of hiding as she realised that she felt strangely
safe with him. Even her Slayer side felt safe. She'd felt him clean thirty-seven
wounds on her legs and kissed her skin more than once. Her heart thudded hard
against her chest at that thought. He'd kissed her. Tenderly. Almost reverently.
Deep down inside it had touched her to see so strong a beast, so proud a man
humbling himself, risking everything so he could kiss her. She wondered what
he'd look like if she let him kiss her properly.
Looking down at her legs she frowned, the wounds seemed so small now but they
still felt like gaping holes in her soul, ones that wouldn't heal by his vampire
abilities. Ones that would only heal with time.
She moved her eyes back to rest on him as he sighed, his eyes closed and his
body relaxed as he smacked his lips together quietly, sleepily.
Buffy watched her hand as it reached out towards him, her eyes locked on the
tiny stain of crimson on his lower lip. Running her finger shakily over it, she
let the corners of her lips twitch into a smile as she continued to stare
blankly at his face.
"Mine." She mumbled as she looked at the blood on his lips and now on her
finger.
"Yeah…" Spike replied lazily as he fluttered his eyes open and saw her finger
near his mouth, a smear of red staining it.
Craning his neck so he was looking up at her, he smiled as he found her looking
back at him with eyes that almost spoke words straight into his head and he
found William waiting to decipher them.
He pushed him back down inside and forced the sleep out of his body as he sat
up.
She looked tired. Her skin was still paler than it used to be and her face still
solemn when he compared it to how she usually looked around him.
"Get some kip, I'll stay awake." He watched her eyes widen as he got off the bed
and walked around it towards the door. "No fretting. Just got to lock the door.
Make sure we're both safe."
When he turned around from locking the door he found Buffy had moved across to
the right side of the bed and was watching him. He had to admit it was nice
seeing her a little more alert but he knew that at any moment she could slip
away again, draw herself back inside and put the barriers back up around
herself.
Sitting down next to her, he grabbed hold of the blanket he'd placed on the bed
earlier and unfolded it, placing it gently over the length of her body and
watching her curl up underneath it.
He sighed as he let his back rest against the headboard. He could feel the sun
outside, the daylight hours lulling him into sleep but he gradually pushed the
tiredness out of his body. It wasn't hard to do when he looked down at the girl
who had curled up near him, her head resting close to his arm. He gently moved
it, letting his elbow rest just above her head and his hand play against her
back where the blanket covered her shoulders.
He'd protect her.
With his life if he had to.
Spike unlocked the cage door and let William out.
She was an angel.
Precious.
Beautiful.
Angel.
"What are you reading?"
A quiet voice broke into Spike's thoughts.
He looked up from the pages of his book and cocked his head to one side as he
found Buffy watching him, a tiny frown wrinkling her nose. She'd been sleeping
for what seemed like days and he hadn't expected her to wake anytime soon, the
physical and mental exhaustion had clearly taken a heavy toll on her.
He smiled slightly.
It was nice, almost relieving, to see her slowly getting back to normal. Her
face and body language as she sat watching him were almost childlike; her knees
hugged against her chest as she rested her chin on top of them and looked at
him. He could see she was still tired, the lack of food and emotional drain
still making her low on energy.
But still, it was nice to finally hear her voice again.
"Silas Marner." Spike replied and held his book up with the cover facing her, as
if showing her would answer the questions he knew it was going to raise.
He wished it would raise questions from her, that seeing him reading would give
her ammunition to tease him and therefore talk some more. He didn't want to see
her close up again. Over the past two days, she'd been mostly sleeping but the
small amount of time she had been awake had seen her varying between alert and
withdrawn. Her constant switching of mindsets had been causing him concern but
each time she withdrew back into her shell she seemed to be spending less time
there before becoming alert again--it was progress, he supposed.
"Sounds very dull." Buffy hugged her knees a little tighter as a sudden chill
swept over her and she found herself wanting to ask him to come closer.
He was sitting in the corner of the room, leaning back in a chair as his feet
rested on another one he had drawn near to him.
The distance between them seemed like a vast and treacherous ocean to her.
She hugged her knees a little tighter and closed her eyes.
Spike frowned as she sighed. He could almost see her slipping away again.
Standing up, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, resuming the
position he'd spent most of the day in while she'd been sleeping peacefully.
He'd watched her.
Her round cheeks and sweet lips softened by her slumber, and her golden hair
spread softly across the pillow.
Those same cheeks and lips that were now pale from fatigue again.
"Hungry?" He leant forwards slightly so he could look at her face.
She shook her head.
He knew she was hungry. He had listened to her stomach growling louder than he
ever could.
"Thirsty then?" Spike tried again. During her long sleep he'd managed to grab
hold of one of his still loyal minions and ordered him to bring pig's blood and
human food, along with some drinks.
Pig's blood.
The short stocky minion had looked at him like he was insane but he couldn't
bring himself to feed on human blood--not while he was looking after Buffy.
He was definitely done for now; even loyal minions had a habit of spreading
gossip behind their master's backs. Word would be out that Spike, master
vampire, was holed up in his room with a half-insane Slayer and was asking for
bagged blood. By the time he finally left the lair, his reputation would be
deader than he was.
He raised his brows as Buffy opened her eyes and met his. A jolt ran along every
nerve in his body as her pupils narrowed on his.
She nodded.
Spike found himself smiling wide at her as a feeling somewhere near elation
swept through him. He checked himself and casually grabbed a bottle of water off
the side table. Unscrewing the cap, he arched a brow at the drink as if it were
bitter poison to himself and then held it out to her.
"Small sips, love…don't want you drowning yourself or choking now, do we?" He
realised before he finished the sentence that he sounded like a complete nonce.
Talking to her like that when she was distant and dreamy had been acceptable but
speaking to her that way when she was almost her normal self was going to get
him laughed at.
She didn't laugh.
She smiled warmly and took the bottle from him, her fingers slightly brushing
against his as she grasped it firmly.
Buffy stared at her hand for a moment before taking a sip of the water. Her
fingers seemed to hum where his had touched them and it didn't bother her like
it should have.
Keeping hold of her water, she looked down at the book Spike was still holding
in one hand, his finger serving as a bookmark as he attended to her needs. She
cocked her head to one side as she looked at the cover. It had the kind of one
that said it was old--another literary classic that she'd never heard of but he
had.
Spike looked down at her bare legs, the wounds on them starting to heal thanks
to his vampire ability and her built in Slayer healing.
Placing his book down face first on the side table so he wouldn't lose his page,
he stood up and walked over to the clothing he'd gathered up for her while she'd
been sleeping. He turned and looked back at her--she was staring at her toes,
her eyes distant once more. Grabbing a pair of black combats off the pile of
clothes, he held them up for inspection and shrugged. They were going to be
about three sizes too big for her and wouldn't go with his red shirt, but they
were the best he had to offer.
He took them over to Buffy where she was continuing to stare at her feet in a
semi-catatonic state. Sitting down next to her he looked at her legs and thought
about how he was going to get her into the trousers now that she was out of her
head again.
"Buffy…love…" He cocked his head to one side as he leant over, looking up into
her face.
It was a mask of emptiness.
He tensed his jaw and frowned, the feeling of having lost her again making him
ache inside and wonder if she was ever going to be the same again.
"Buffy?" Spike whispered and reached out tentatively to touch her knee.
She didn't move.
Her eyes remained fixed on her feet.
He gingerly brushed his fingers against her knee and let his eyes close slightly
as her skin warmed his.
He shook her knee gently.
"Buffy?"
She was definitely gone again.
Taking the bottle of water from her hand, he placed it down on the small table
beside her and watched her hand fall lax against her knee.
"Let's get you decent…not going to hurt you." He didn't know why he was
continuing to tell her that; he knew that she trusted him to touch her but part
of him didn't trust himself. After allowing himself to kiss her soft bronzed
skin while tending to her wounds, he'd fallen down a slippery slope that had led
to watching her sleep and stroking her hair, and from there to just wanting to
be in contact with her--to touch her hand, to feel her warm skin against his.
To be on the receiving end of her pretty smile.
Carefully lifting each of her feet, he placed them into the legs of the combat
trousers and eased them up until he reached her bent knee. He slowly
straightened her legs out and pulled the trousers up to her thighs. As his
fingers brushed against them, he inhaled deeply, savouring the way his skin
hummed when it touched hers.
He frowned.
Now came the tricky part.
No matter how much she trusted him in her half conscious state, he knew she
would kill him if he merely brushed his hands against her backside by accident.
"Lend a hand, Buffy…be a love…" Spike searched her eyes but they remained fixed
on nothingness. "Then don't sodding kill me when I'm done. It's your own fault
for not being very helpful."
Spike took a deep breath and swallowed it hard, cursing himself for losing the
fraction of control he had over his temper.
Shimmying the combat trousers under her backside, he rolled his eyes closed as
his thumbs brushed against her satin panties and his mouth turned dry as he
tried to swallow again. Concentrating wholly on the feeling of her smooth warm
bottom against his hands, he listened intently to her heartbeat as it echoed
around his ears. A slow steady thumping that sent a jolt through him with each
beat, a pulse of anticipation and desire.
Finally getting them up to her waist, he hurriedly zipped them up and buttoned
them before walking as far away from her as possible without leaving the room.
He ran his fingers over his hair while taking long deep breaths to steady
himself.
He looked down at his hands.
They echoed with the feeling of her.
"Bollocks." Spike growled and clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to
take out his frustration on the wall, the furniture--anything. But he couldn't
do it. He knew that if he made the slightest violent motion he would scare her
even in her dazed state.
He couldn't do that.
He turned to look at her. She was still staring blankly at the end of the bed.
Walking over to the side table next to the bed, he picked up his book and sat
down next to her, leaning his back against the headboard as he started reading
again.
Buffy blinked.
Her eyes felt sore. Dry. Unresponsive.
She frowned.
Slowly looking around the room she paused on every dark corner, wanting to see
if the shadows moved or if there was anything there waiting for her. Nothing.
She moved her eyes slowly back to the bed, tracing the worn patterns on the
patchy cover and stopping when she reached her feet.
She was wearing trousers.
Black combats that looked about five sizes too big to be hers. She inhaled
slowly.
Spike.
Turning her head to look at him she found him laying next to her, stretched out
on his back with his eyes closed and his hands clasped over his stomach like a
dead person in a coffin.
She looked at them and then at his stomach. He wasn't breathing but somehow that
didn't bother her like it had with Angel. She accepted that Spike was a
vampire--a demon. He didn't try to be human; it just seemed to plague him, and
in sleep he finally showed the most noticeable trait of the undead--lack of
breathing.
Her eyes narrowed on his chest, trying to discern any tiny movement that could
be construed as breathing. She knew it was a reflex while he was awake, a memory
of how his body used to function that his brain hadn't let slip away. She
figured that it also helped vampires fit in while roaming the outside world--if
they breathed then they passed for human in most eyes.
But in hers, he would always be a vampire. No matter how hard he tried to hide
it from the world, he couldn't hide it from her.
Feeling inexplicably drawn to him, she found herself ghost caressing his hands
and then moving them up to his chest and from there, she weaved a trail up to
his lips. She remembered them stained with her blood, a contented smile on his
face as he gave over to the feeling that her strong blood induced in him. She
smiled.
Cocking her head to one side, she drew her hand away as he twitched, his hands
making sharp frantic movements as though he was being attacked.
"Blood…wet…slipping…" He swatted at something as his brows knit into a frown.
Buffy's look turned curious--she never realised vampires could dream. "Drown in
you…love…Buffy…Buffy? Buffy!"
Spike shot up in bed, his breathing coming fast and his eyes wide with fright.
He stared at the far wall as he panted hard, desperately trying to catch his
breath.
Buffy touched his shoulder.
He jumped and in a lightning fast movement turned to face her.
"Jesus…" Spike heaved a long sigh as his breathing came under control, the sight
of her watching him enough to force some composure about him.
She frowned, wanting nothing more than to ask him what he'd been seeing and why
he'd sounded so panicked when he was calling her name loud enough to wake every
minion within a mile radius.
"…Scared me, love." He smiled shakily and she knew that there was a double
meaning to that statement--she hadn't just scared him in reality, she'd scared
him in his sleep too.
Buffy edged towards him. An overwhelming desire to comfort him flooded her veins
as she locked eyes with him. Reaching her hand out she hooked it around the back
of his head and drew him down to her neck, cradling him roughly against her as
she closed her eyes.
Spike breathed in deeply, the warmth of her body calming him as her blood called
to him and he felt something deeper happening between them. She was offering him
comfort, trying to soothe him after his nightmare and she seemed to be perfectly
aware of what she was doing.
Nuzzling her neck, he closed his eyes as he sighed away the lingering images of
his dream. He'd been running in the halls of the lair trying to find her, could
hear her screaming and her heart beating loudly in his ears as the pain she was
feeling echoed through his body. He shuddered.
Buffy let her cheek rest against his as she ran her fingers in circles on his
back. Blinking languidly she realised what she was doing, how she was holding
his head against her neck and the danger of the position she was in. She felt
her heartbeat pick up as she slowly moved her cheek away from his.
"Spike…"
The sound of his name pronounced so shakily on her lips was enough to bring
Spike out of his reverie. He sat back and looked into her eyes, they were bright
and watching him closely but he could still see a lingering edge of pain in
them.
"Love?" Spike tilted his head to one side and smiled slightly, hoping silently
that she would stay a while this time before slipping back into her daze.
"What you said…about me…about Giles."
Spike frowned as he tried to piece together what she was saying. Running over
the past few days, he searched for something he'd said that matched up with what
she was asking.
He raised a brow as it came to him.
"About Slayers?"
She nodded.
"Hardly a nice bed-time story, pet, much as I'd love to tell you I don't really
think it's my place…the Council…"
"Won't tell me." Buffy cut in and Spike frowned for a split second as he
recognised the sharp tone of her voice--she was definitely feeling a little more
like her old self.
"Fine. Don't go blaming me when you don't like what you hear."
Buffy paused for a moment as she considered asking Spike not to tell her, his
warning about her not liking what he had to say had been enough to put a small
seed of doubt into her head. She took a deep breath and met his eyes.
"Tell me."
Spike shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed and looked deep into
her eyes, they were sparkling defiantly again and he almost smiled at seeing her
so near to normal.
"I read this, once, in a book kept deep in the lower recesses of the Council of
Watchers offices…was there looking for some book to aid my latest scheme or
possibly to help heal Dru…can't remember now. There was this book, or books
even…kept locked in this little cage right at the back of the room. Thick with
dust. Couldn't resist taking a peek, you know? See something all locked away it
just piques your interest."
Buffy nodded again and hugged her knees as the uneasy feeling in her stomach
worsened--if the Council had kept them locked up and shut away from the world
then they were probably there for a good reason. She got the feeling that the
cage would be the kind of area that only Quentin Travers and a selected few
would have access to.
"Broke the lock…locks actually…several of them, each as big as my fist. Heavy
doors too, thick iron bars that no one would be able to cut through without a
little magic. I remember seeing this book, big, heavy, locked tight with a clasp
and old-fashioned padlock. Took it off the shelf and blew the dust off the
cover. Wasn't in English, bloody Sumerian as usual. God knows why all books that
are old have to be written in that sodding language."
She raised her brows and gave him a look that said to get on with it.
Spike arched a brow.
"My story…like to set the scene." He frowned and looked down at the bed covers
as his expression turned pensive. "Where was I?"
"Sumerian." Buffy stated flatly, resisting the sudden urge to smile at the
thoughtful look that flitted across his face.
"Sumerian." He repeated with a sigh. "Anyway. Couldn't resist reading it there
and then, had a few hours until sunrise. It was about Slayers, the first
Slayer."
"I've seen her before. I think…I've had dreams…visions I guess, and she was in
them."
Spike smiled at how she sounded so like her normal self, her voice laced with
intrigue and heavy with thought.
"It told of demons, how they ruled the earth long before the age of man.
Following the demons came the men and three of these men found a girl, a girl to
fight the demons." He raised his eyes to meet hers again as she blinked. When he
was satisfied that his proceeding wasn't going to shock her he continued. "They
took the girl and chained her to the earth, connected her to it, physically.
Then they…they…"
"They what, Spike?" She frowned as a shiver ran up her spine, part of her
wanting to know how the first Slayer was made and part of her not wanting to
know.
"Took the girl…and gave her a heart."
"A heart?"
"Of a demon." He said quietly, almost hoping that she wouldn't hear it so she
didn't get upset.
Buffy shook her head as her eyes grew wide. She remembered Spike saying that she
belonged in the night with the demons and him. "No."
"Apparently, it was the only way they knew to make her strong enough to fight
the demons for them. They gave her the heart of one, the power of a demon."
Spike fought the desire to reach out and comfort her as he watched her place her
hand over her breastbone.
"They…no…Giles would've told me…no…" She shook her head firmly.
"I'm not sure your watcher knows, love…this book was pretty well hidden,
intentionally forgotten about. The men used the girl, made her fight for
them…and tied her to the world so she would always be there to protect it, in
one form or another."
"They used her…hid behind a girl who they played with…" She swallowed hard as
she thought about what he'd said. Her eyes fell to rest on the bed and the gap
between her and Spike. "They made her part demon…my abilities…the healing, the
senses, the strength…all demon…"
"Probably vampire." Spike said nonchalantly and then instantly regretted it when
her head shot up and her eyes met his, they were wide with shock.
"Oh god…how could they?" She pressed one hand against her mouth as the other
clutched her chest. Suddenly her attempts to lead a normal life really did seem
completely redundant. She could never be a normal girl when she was partly
demon.
"I'm sure you're not at all demonic, love…what they did, they did to the first
Slayer, not you. You just carry the essence of her and all the Slayers before
you…you're human, register as human to me…" He started to wish he'd told her she
didn't want to know. He could see in her eyes that she was panicking deep down
inside, her pupils dilated as she stared deep into his eyes as if he could take
it all back and make the hurt go away.
Buffy tried to shrug it off but the revelation that she was part demon, even if
it was only in essence, was too much to just ignore.
Spike heaved a sigh and watched her as she looked around the room, her face
heavy with thought as she moved her eyes from object to object.
She had always had her suspicions about the Slayer line, but this was too much.
To think that men created her--they experimented with an innocent girl in order
to make a weapon, one that could defend them against the demons and she was the
end result so far. A girl with the essence of a demon inside her; all her
abilities that she had always depended upon had come from her demon side, the
Slayer in her.
Holding her stomach she frowned hard at the far wall as she tried to let it all
sink in. It wasn't Spike's fault that they had done this to her, but she was
holding him partly responsible. His warning echoed through her head again. He'd
known she wouldn't like what she was going to hear, he'd warned her that it was
going to be painful.
Now that she knew about her origins she found she couldn't ignore them, before
had seemed so uncomplicated--she hadn't really questioned where her power had
come from, she'd just used it. She was part demon. Her powers linked her to the
other demons and the night. Spike was right--the powers she had matched those of
a vampire, of him. The men must have given the girl the heart of a vampire.
She swallowed hard, suddenly wanting to be away from Spike and anything
resembling a demon.
Her heart ached.
She gave a sideward glance to Spike. He was watching her with concern shining in
his clear blue eyes and it only made her ache inside even more. Deep down she
felt a tug, a desire to stay by his side no matter how wrong it felt.
"I was wrong…" Spike said quietly as he met her eyes again and saw the struggle
within her. His arms ached to hold her tight against him and comfort her. The
time he'd spent with her had only made it painfully clear to him just how wrong
he'd been about his own motives for helping her recover. Now that he had finally
admitted to them and she was recovered, there was nothing more he could do but
accede defeat. As much as he wanted her, as much as he wanted to be with her, he
could never make her his--it was down to her to choose him.
"Wrong?"
"It was wrong of me, it was wrong…you were right, no one owns you, not me, not
Angel, not anyone. You need someone who can match you, not master you. Someone
who can be there for you when you need them…someone who knows you." Spike gave
her a half smile as she frowned at him. "I'll go…away. I'll leave town, go to LA
or New York, somewhere that I won't be under your feet and you'll forget about
what happened here…figured I've outstayed my welcome in SunnyD. Don't want to
meet a dusty ending…not at your hands. You can go…I'll take you home as soon as
it gets dark."
Standing up he gave one last look to her before turning and walking out of the
door.
Buffy stared blankly at the door as it closed, a sudden coldness filling the
room as she listened to him pacing the hall just on the other side of the wall.
She felt the tears in her eyes slip onto her cheeks and curled up on the bed, a
weight of sadness pressing down on her heart. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't go
far but she couldn't understand why he wouldn't stay in the room, why he'd felt
the sudden need to put a distance between them.
It dawned on her.
He was doing it gently.
Breaking the fragile thread that seemed to connect them now in phases, as though
he was trying to lessen the pain of them parting and make it easier on them.
She sighed into her knees and stared at the door as she reached out with her
senses, feeling him there, motionless in the hall and probably staring at the
door just like she was.
Swallowing the confused emotions that whirled around inside her head and
stomach, she wished it were dark already so she could leave and get away. The
feeling of being so comfortable with Spike--knowing that it was all coming to an
abrupt end--and the new knowledge about her Slayer origins, was making her head
ache.
Closing her eyes, she silently counted the seconds as they passed, each one
bringing her closer to night fall and seeing her friends again.
A weight of guilt added to that of her sadness and confusion.
She hadn't thought about them at all during her confinement with Spike; the only
person on her mind had been him. She wondered what they were doing. They would
be panicked by her disappearance and she knew that they wouldn't have told her
mother, she would be sitting at home oblivious to her daughter's MIA status.
Spike leant against the wall and allowed his back to slide down it until he was
sitting hunched up and balancing on his toes, his backside resting against the
cold stone behind him.
He couldn't explain what was happening to himself and in part, he didn't want
to. When he'd walked out of the room, he'd felt drawn back to her as though
there was an invisible string connecting them and he was trying to wander
further than it would allow him. He sighed and lit up a cigarette, seeking
solace in the comforting way it warmed his lungs and smoothed the tension from
his body.
If just leaving the room had been that hard then he dreaded to think how hard
leaving her with her friends and heading to LA would be. It had to be done
though--he could see that now. His futile attempts to be with her wouldn't work.
She wouldn't accept them right now. She wasn't one to be mollycoddled and fussed
over. He needed to leave her in order for her to get her head straight about the
things he'd told her and her feelings for him, if she had any.
He hoped she did.
When he'd told her he couldn't know her because she didn't know herself, he knew
he'd been right. She really didn't know herself and the power she held in her
grasp. She didn't know because she couldn't accept who she was. He longed to
lead her down the path that would allow her to see that the power she had was a
blessing, not a terrible thing to be shunned like she always had. But she needed
to be strong and discover it for herself.
It was the only way.
He would leave for LA and hopefully he'd see her again someday, and she'd
finally know who she is and what she wanted.
She'd finally accept what it meant to be the Slayer.
Finally accept her true self.
Closing his eyes, he took a long drag on his cigarette and let his arms hang
limply as his elbows rested on his knees. He could feel the sun starting its
slow, lazy decent from the sky. In a matter of hours, she'd be back safe with
her friends and he'd be gone.
It was the only way.