Chapter Six

~If I Ran Away~


~**~

Buffy felt numb. Staring out the window of the cab as the streets of Los Angeles flew by in a technicolor blur; Buffy found that she could not shake the all-encompassing feeling. For a moment back at the hotel, she had almost started to feel like she was connected again to the world.

The phone ringing had shattered that emotion in the space of a heartbeat. Just when she thought she was finally getting somewhere, someone or something had to come and interrupt it. It was aggravating, frustrating and terribly sad all at once.

A memory. One single memory.

Buffy closed her eyes and tried to recall it again. There. There it was. The recollection glided into her mind, wrapped around it and Buffy felt a sense of peace from its presence. She had recalled something and that meant so much. Now if she could only recall more.

Glancing at Spike by her side, Buffy almost had to laugh at the expression on his face. His lips were pursed tightly, a frown furrowing his brow, jaw clenched. But the urge to laugh died a quick death as she remembered Spike’s face the moment the memory had resurfaced.

Sadness tinged with a hint of longing. It was still imprinted on his face and when he turned his head and met her eyes, she felt his longing as it washed over her body, seeped into her soul.

At that moment, she wanted him to hold her. She didn’t know where that had come from, but she could feel the yearning deep inside. She wanted to be held in strong arms, where she felt safe and at peace with herself and the world.

She wanted Spike.

The realization startled Buffy and when Spike met her eyes a second time, she quickly averted hers from his piercing stare. Those eyes…it was like he could read her mind with them…see inside of her soul. Had it always been this way between them?

There was so much she wanted to know, but was too afraid to ask. She had a lot figured out, though. It was obvious to anyone with eyes to see, that Spike was hopelessly, desperately in love with her.

But he held himself back and Buffy wondered why. Had the pain of her death killed something inside of him? She didn’t know the circumstances of her death; no one had had the forthrightness to tell her. Well, Buffy wanted to know. How had she died?

There had to be more to this story.

Angel hadn’t looked surprised to see her back, nor had Wesley or Spike. They’d taken her seemingly resurrected self in stride, not batted an eyelash at the fact that she had returned from the great beyond. Something occurred to Buffy in that moment.

She had been dead before.

Questions, questions and more questions. Confusion, so much damn confusion. It pressed Buffy from all sides, pushed at her, made her want to throw herself onto the floor and curl up into a ball.

It made her want to run away.

The cab came to a slow halt and once again they were back at Wolfram and Hart. Buffy was starting to hate this place. She didn’t want to see these friends of hers. It riddled her with terror, the thought of more piercing stares in her direction, more questions as to how she was back and why she couldn’t remember anything.

Running away was starting to sound more and more appealing.

The pressure of Spike’s hand cupped around her elbow as he led her inside the law firm was the only thing keeping Buffy upright. The sound of the leather duster he wore as it swirled around his body was comforting, made the butterflies in her stomach stop fluttering around, ceased the trembling of her limbs and allowed her to breathe easy. There was just something about being comfortable with someone that made everything seem right with the world.

But Buffy knew that things were not right. They were not right at all.

Now they were standing in front of the closed door of an office. Angel’s office. The butterflies were back. Spike pressed a comforting hand to the small of her back and Buffy’s eyes closed. Good. So good.

He was here; he wasn’t going to leave her. How in the hell was she going to get through this? The only thing Buffy wanted to do at this moment was run back to the safety of the hotel room, ask Spike to take her in his arms and hold her until the world fell away.

But no matter what she did, Buffy knew that the world wasn’t going anywhere. She knew that she would have to face this, face these friends whom she had no memory of.

The world wasn’t going anywhere.

The urge to run away suffused her being.

But Spike was here.


~**~

It was taking every ounce of control that Spike possessed to move his feet further and lead Buffy into the office. He could tell by her stiff posture, her demeanor that she didn’t want to do this. The petrified looks she’d been shooting in his direction all night didn’t make things any easier, either.

She was scared and Spike was leading her straight into the lion’s den, where people who knew her and loved her waited to pounce. Spike squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push away his irrational thoughts. Her friends were entitled to see Buffy. They were essentially her family and had certain rights. Spike knew this.

But they had the worst bloody timing in the world.

Spike’s steps hesitated outside the Poof’s office and he shot a glance at Buffy from over his shoulder. Her whole body was shaking, eyes widened. Her body language screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’. Spike felt helpless, felt responsible. But what he didn’t feel…was obligated.

Suddenly in that moment, a thought glided its way into his mind. At first it was fleeting, but then it started to grow until it was a full-fledged plan. He glanced at the trembling, terrified girl at his side and in that moment he knew.

They were getting the hell out of here.

Now.

Before he knew what he was doing, Spike had grabbed Buffy by the shoulders and hauled her into a darkened office across the way, pulling the door closed behind them. For a long moment they stood in the stillness of the inky shadowed office, the sounds of their breathing mingling with the silence.

“What’s happening, Spike? What are we--” Spike silenced Buffy’s questions with a finger pressed to her lips.

“Got a plan, love,” Spike whispered huskily into her ear as Buffy shivered involuntarily beneath the grip of his hands on her shoulder. He released her and took a step back, running his fingers through his hair.

“Gonna get us out of here. You’re not ready to do this, to see your chums. It’s too soon.”

Silence.

There was no reaction from Buffy whatsoever and Spike hoped that that was a good sign. He could hear her slight movements, the whisper of her breath as it left her mouth, the beat of her heart. And that was the clincher. Her heart didn’t race; it beat at a normal speed, which meant that his suggestion hadn’t terrified her.

They were going to run away.

“S-spike,” Buffy breathed, her voice permeating the dark and stuffy office, like a whisper on the wind.

“Yes love?”

“Are we leaving?” she asked.

“Yes we are, love. Just for a little while, until we can sort this out. You need to regain your memories and seeing your friends--”

Spike trailed off and lowered his head.

A rustling sound could be heard as Buffy pushed her body away from the wall and stood so close to Spike, that he could hear the blood rushing in her veins.

Slowly, she rested her hands on his shoulders, coasted them over his forearms, rested them there. Spike let out a shaky breath as he wondered what she was doing. He could feel the strands of her hair tickling his cheek as she leaned closer…closer… and closer still.

Spike almost groaned aloud as her scent hit him full force, captivated his senses and swirled intoxicatingly around his body. Now, her mouth was within inches of his and Spike felt his eyes flutter closed as the silky pressure of her mouth settled over his.

She was kissing him. Long. Hard. Deep. Bloody hell…

Spike wrapped his arms around her slim, compact body and pulled her closer to him, feeling the erratic beat of her heart through the blouse she wore, wanted to press his hand there. The kiss was better than Spike remembered, more vivid than the ones he’d dreamed about these past two years since she’d been gone. And Jesus…oh so sweet.

Finally, she pulled back, released him, taking in shaky breath after shaky breath. Spike could hear her heart slow and return to normal. Spike closed his eyes, as he willed his body back into submission…tried to will away the throb of his erection between his legs as he swiped sweaty palms over the length of his jeans.

“I want to go with you, Spike,” she whispered in the darkness, her voice smooth as silk, with no hesitation whatsoever.

“I know you do, love. That’s why we’re leaving. We don’t have to tell anyone, we’re just gonna go, alright?”

He peered through the inky darkness and saw her head bob up and down slowly as she gave her consent. That was all the encouragement Spike needed. He took a step forward, reached for her hand in the darkness and squeezed it gently.

“Ready for this, love? We don’t have to, but if it’s what you want--”

“It’s what I want. Let’s go, Spike. Right now. Before I lose my nerve,” Buffy answered shakily.

“We’re gonna do this, then. You and me, pet. We’ll find a way to get you better. Together,” Spike assured as he tugged her hand so she would follow him.

Oh thank God…Buffy breathed to herself as they slipped out of the confines of the darkened office and entered the hallway. Spike darted his head back and forth, checking both sides of the hallway and finding it clear, tugged Buffy’s hand as they jogged down the hallway together, toward the exit.

In moments, they had exited the law firm and were hailing another cab. No one saw them leave; no one had even known that they were there in the first place. The tail lights of the cab were swallowed into the darkness of the night as Buffy and Spike were carried away.

~**~

The truth is never far behind
You kept it hidden well
If I live to tell
The secret I knew then
Will I ever have the chance again…

If I ran away, I'd never have the strength
To go very far
How would they hear the beating of my heart?
Will it grow cold
The secret that I hide, will I grow old
How will they hear?
When will they learn?
How will they know…


End of Chapter Six






Chapter Seven

~Runaway Train~


~**~

Angel paced the carpeted length of his office, brow furrowed, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Willow and Xander had left hours ago, very distressed at the new turn of events. Angel couldn’t believe it himself, but found that the idea wasn’t too far-fetched. In fact, it was typical and he should have stayed on his guard.

Buffy and Spike were gone.

They hadn’t shown up to meet with Willow and Xander and when Angel had phoned the hotel room and gotten nothing but incessant ringing in his ear, that was when he realized…they’d just taken off.

Immediately, he’d gotten on the phone with the night manager of the hotel and tried to pump the bewildered man who’d answered for information. But he hadn’t gotten very far.

No one matched the descriptions that Angel relayed over the phone. No… management had not seen a blonde man and woman leave the hotel unexpectedly. Which led Angel to believe that they hadn’t taken anything with them, hadn’t even stopped back at the hotel in the first place.

Damn it!

Now, Angel was furious beyond the point of no return and when he got his hands on a certain peroxided pain in the ass…

A knock on the door interrupted Angel’s reverie and he stormed to it, wrenching it open with such force that it almost came off the hinges.

Wesley, who stood on the other side of the door, gasped aloud and took a step back at the raw fury on Angel’s face. Then he frowned and peered forward, staring at Angel through narrowed eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re being rather irrational?” Wesley asked with a lift of his eyebrow. Angel made a sound of frustration in his throat and turned away from the door.

“What do you want, Wes? If you’ve got information on Spike and Buffy--”

“No…I--”

“Then what is it?” Angel barked, turning to face Wesley who had entered the room. Wesley ran his fingers through his hair, lowering his eyes.

“I just wanted to tell you that Willow and Xander are working on pinpointing where Spike and Buffy could have disappeared to. Willow’s doing a locator spell,” Wesley answered.

“Fine,” Angel said with a wave of his hand as he flopped into the chair behind his desk, throwing his head into his hands.

“Is there something you need, Angel? Anything I can do?” Wesley asked. Angel’s head came up slowly as he stared at Wesley a moment.

“No,” he murmured in a clipped tone. “What I need is Spike here so I can kick his bony a--”

“We’ll find them, Angel. Not to worry. They couldn’t have gone far,” Wesley interrupted.

Angel shook his head as if to say ‘whatever’ and turned his chair around to face the wall. Wesley shuffled his feet, looking a little uncomfortable and then finally left the office, closing the door behind him.


~**~

Spike stared across the front seat of the car to gaze at Buffy, who had fallen asleep with her head pressed against the window of the passenger door. A slow smile spread across his features as he contemplated the woman by his side.

This had been the right decision. Getting out while the getting was good. He’d seen how overwhelmed Buffy was becoming, it had been palpable, rolling from her body in great waves.

Running had been the only solution and Spike had come up with the plan at the spur of the moment. It was crazy and far-fetched, but there was no other way. Spike couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather be than on the road with Buffy at his side…even though he didn’t have a buggerin’ clue as to where they were going.

It didn’t matter.

Spike shook his head and glanced at the map unfolded in his lap. Moonlight washed over the paper as he squinted at it. They had left Los Angeles two hours ago. Spike had pointed the car east and thought ‘sod all’ where they ended up…as long it was far…and points closer to away…that suited Spike just fine.

The further he got Buffy away the better. At the moment he wasn’t sure where they were going, but the more miles that passed the more they were in the clear. They were going to make it…to wherever and then find a way to untangle the cobwebs in Buffy’s brain.

Spike hadn’t decided if they’d go back after that or not. Right now, he wasn’t thinking that far ahead. He just wanted to be assured that he and Buffy were as far away as possible before he sat down and hammered out some permanent plans.

Spike rested his wrists on the steering wheel of the car and contemplated the stretch of highway before him intently. He’d managed to get a demon acquaintance of his to loan him the car. But with one exception.

Spike had had to promise the demon protection from Angel’s Wolfram and Hart pals. Spike had begrudgingly accepted, knowing full well that he doubted it would come to pass. At the moment he didn’t think he and Angel were going to be much on speaking terms.

Not after this.

Spike once again glanced in the direction of the Slayer, whose features were relaxed and contented as she slept. A warm surge of love suffused his entire body, causing his nether regions to get a little uncomfortable.

Turning back to the road, Spike’s mind glided over the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the hushed inner-sanctum of the empty office. The way her silken velvet lips had caressed his, the way she had applied just the right amount of pressure, coaxing his mouth to open, allowing her tongue to glide inside and intertwine with his.

Spike suppressed the groan that wanted to issue from his mouth. The kiss had sparked something inside of Spike and hopefully, it would spark something inside of Buffy as well. Not only the memories of her life and her calling, but also the lost and forgotten memories of their love.

Although, he thought to himself, maybe they wouldn’t need to much help in that department. He’d seen the way her eyes had traveled over him in interest. Even if she had forgotten about her love for him, it wasn’t taking her long to feel attraction toward him.

According to him, you didn’t need a lifetime of memories to feel something for someone…you just needed to feel…no thinking required…just blood screaming in your veins…just passion that came from the heart.

And that was the crux of the situation.

Buffy felt something for him, regardless of the fact that she didn’t remember what they had shared, regardless of the past.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Oh, it was definitely a good thing, Spike thought to himself as his lips curled into a wry smile.


~**~

The sound of a muttered ‘bloody hell’ stirred Buffy from the realms of slumber, slowly. Languorously, she stretched her arms above her head and then opened her eyes, her gaze immediately fixating on Spike who juggled a map and a cup of coffee.

Judging by the wet stain on the pant leg of his jeans, he’d spilled some of the burning liquid onto himself. Which explained the under-the-breath cursing and the litany of ’bloody hell’s.’

Buffy felt the smile stretch across her face and her heart swell in her chest and then suddenly remembered what had happened not more than five hours ago. She sat upright abruptly, eyes darting around in a panic.

Where were they? What was happening?

Then, the memories came rushing back. She and Spike…in a moment of pure desperation had fled from Wolfram and Hart. But before the hurried exit had been…

That kiss.

Oh God, she groaned to herself, covering her face with her hand. She could still feel the pressure of his lips as they met hers, covered them possessively. His hand had reached up to cradle the back of her head as if he were trying to pull her closer into himself. The memory was strong and sharp and made Buffy feel…

He made her feel alive again.

And it was the best feeling in the world.

Suddenly, another flash of memory assailed her and it wasn’t a memory from the present…it was something else. Quick flashes, images behind her eyes and Buffy was traveling backward into the abyss of her foggy confused brain.

Another time…another place…

Two shadowed figures underneath a stairwell, groping, reaching, clutching at each other as if their very lives depended on getting closer…so much closer…couldn’t get close enough. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as the memory flooded over her. She released a shaky breath and pressed her fingertips to her lips as the images continued.

A bar…a night club of some sort…people milling around…a sad song playing in the background…the desperation and pain that permeated the air…that swirled in the atmosphere.

Kissing…tongues intertwining, hands reaching. The kiss broken for a moment as eyes met and held…as understanding formed. Then lips meeting…melding…hungry…grasping…got to get closer…the overwhelming need to feel…Smells, sounds…sights. Platinum blonde hair, leather duster…cigarette smoke and blood…oh God…

And then the image disappeared, leaving Buffy breathless and shaking, tears streaking her cheeks as she opened her eyes. Her gaze slammed into Spike’s as he looked over at her with concern, a frown creasing his features.

“You alright, love?” The voice, silky, rough, covering her body like warm honey.

Buffy remembered.

She remembered Spike.

Shakily, Buffy sat upright and shot Spike a thin smile. She wouldn’t tell him. Not yet. It was too soon and she wanted to remember more…just a little more. The memories so far had been showing her a passionate, fiery relationship. But Buffy wanted to know more…so much more.

So she would keep this bit of information to herself…just until the next memory surfaced…just until they were safely away from prying eyes and questions.

“I-I’m fine, Spike. Just a little disoriented,” she managed to reply, although the shaky tear-filled sound of her voice was probably a dead giveaway. Spike gave her a smile and reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly in his.

“Hold on, love. We’re almost there,” Spike said reassuringly, turning his eyes back to the road.

“Where, Spike?” she asked.

“Away,” was Spike’s soft reply.

Buffy didn’t need anymore answer than that. She couldn’t wait to get as far away as possible, couldn’t wait for the next memory to surface. This moment, this place, this time…with Spike…

Nothing else in the world mattered.

It was all that Buffy had to cling to.


~**~

Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life's mystery seems so faded

And everything seems cut and dry
Day and night, earth and sky
Somehow I just don't believe it…

~**~

End of Chapter Seven




Chapter Eight

~Hard Truths~


~**~

Los Angeles

Two days had gone by and there was still no sign of Buffy and Spike. They didn’t want to be found and had done a pretty damn good job of covering their bases. Willow had tried locator spell after locator spell and hadn’t gotten any conclusive results. And Angel wasn’t up for any wild goose chases.

Angel got to his feet, walked around the large oak desk and shuffled to the windows that overlooked the city of Los Angeles, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his slacks. It was time to face some hard truths, truths that Angel had been burying for quite some time, years probably.

Ever since he’d had that conversation with Buffy in Sunnydale, before the original battle with The First, Angel had been in denial. He had pushed it away, pretended it didn’t exist…anything so he wouldn’t have to face one simple realization.

Buffy and Spike we’re in love.

There wasn’t a damn thing Angel could do to stop it, either.

Oh, he’d tried…and failed. Miserably.

Shaking his head, Angel continued to contemplate. The things he’d done…the illusions that he’d had in his mind about doing the right thing for Buffy’s sake, had only brought pain and suffering to those around him.

Then there was his convoluted belief that he could somehow some way try to stop something that couldn‘t be stopped, that he could affect decisions and choices that were not his to make in the first place…God…how foolish and close-minded he’d been!

And to top it all off?

That ridiculous plot to eliminate Spike. He still blamed himself for the aftermath. The Immortal. The First. Rupert Giles’s suicide and Buffy’s untimely and tragic death. All of his sins were adding up and there was no one left to blame anymore.

So many hard truths to face.

Angel lifted his eyes once more to the Los Angeles skyline…and knew what he had to do. Turning on his heel he advanced toward the desk and reached for the phone. He punched in some numbers and then held the receiver to his ear…waiting. Once the other line was picked up, Angel began to speak.

“Willow…yeah…it’s me. Listen…”

And Angel told her his thoughts. End the search for Buffy and Spike. They didn’t want to be found. She started to cry and Angel continued stiffly, uncomfortable with her outburst of emotion.

He told her that he believed that Spike and Buffy would return in their own time and on their own terms. As much as it hurt to think about it and as awful as it was to say, these were the facts.

Angel waited as Willow pulled herself together. A long silence stretched between them over the phone line, until Willow began to speak, her voice wavering from the fresh tears she had cried.

Willow agreed to end the search. It was terrible and awful, but it was the only solution. She and Xander were anxious to see Buffy, but understood the circumstances and would step back. Because they loved her, because she was their friend.

If Buffy and Spike were to return than they would burn that bridge when they came to it, but for the time being there was nothing else they could do. Buffy felt comfortable with Spike…she needed to regain her memories…and maybe Spike was the key to unlocking those memories…to bringing Buffy back. Until that time, Willow told Angel, they would be patient.

Angel agreed. Why try to stop the train once it had started to barrel down the tracks? There was no denying the inevitable…no standing in the way. And Angel was tired of the pain, the constant reminder of past wrongdoings. It was time to step forward. Time to move on.

Time to tell Buffy the truth.

So, right then and there, Angel made a promise to himself. Once Buffy and Spike returned…if they ever returned…Angel would tell Buffy everything…whether she regained her memory of the events of two years ago or not. It didn’t matter. Angel was tired of this thing weighing on his mind…his shoulders…his heart.

Angel said his goodbyes to Willow and then hung up the phone. Turning to the windows again, Angel sighed and stared ahead. For the first time in two years he was starting to feel a little better. Of course the guilt was still there…wasn’t it always?

At last, he believed that he was doing the right thing by Buffy…by allowing her to live her own life without any complications on his end. For once he was going to stay out of it…let her make her own mistakes…her own decisions. If it was Spike she wanted…than who was he to stand in the way of that?

Just because they’d had a thing when she was in high school, didn’t mean that he had precedence in her life or influence over her decisions. All these years, centuries walking this planet, and finally he was learning his lesson.

It was one damn hard pill for a man to swallow.

But he would do it willingly.

Probably the only right choice he’d ever made when it came to Buffy.

She’s all yours, Spike. Take care of her, man…


~**~

Nevada/Utah Border

Buffy watched Spike through the grimy passenger door window of the car. They were near the border of Nevada and Utah now, at some gas station. They had been on the road for two nights. As soon as the sun’s rays would begin to peak over the horizon Spike would pull the car over and hunker down in the back seat to sleep.

Buffy had offered to drive, but as an answer had only received a raised eyebrow from Spike. Buffy had laughed aloud and asked what the problem was. Surely she knew how to drive. Didn’t pre-amnesia Buffy drive? Spike had snorted at the question, which Buffy guessed had meant a big resounding ‘no’.

So they worked it out. Once the sun came up they would rest until it set for the evening. There was an easiness she and Spike were sharing. A camaraderie that she felt had maybe been uncommon for the two of them in the past. The road trip had been a good idea. No regrets for Buffy and she doubted Spike had any, either.

Now, it was time to crash for awhile. Assess some options. See where they stood. Spike was calling one of his friends, and Buffy used that term loosely, for a favor.

Buffy knew that it was probably best not to ask questions concerning Spike’s choice of friends. He hadn’t exactly called them that had he? Contacts. People or something along like that line that owed him. Buffy shook her head to herself.

Every day had been a surprise since she and Spike had begun their impromptu journey to parts wherever. But Buffy had other pressing issues on her mind, things that she had been keeping to herself.

No other memories had resurfaced since the night they had started out.

Buffy was frustrated, exhausted and frazzled.

Impatient.

Stupid brain.

Buffy glanced at Spike once again, who was on a payphone, gesturing animatedly as he spoke to whoever was on the other end. She hoped that they would find a place to crash soon, because sleeping in the car…not something she was loving. She shifted in her seat, a chill racing over her body. Damn, it was cold here at night. Desert and all.


But despite the conditions and the not-knowing what tomorrow would bring, Buffy found that she was happy. Content. At peace. Being with Spike was starting to change her whole outlook.

She was beginning to think that they could have something together. Something real, something that was true and long-lasting. A strange feeling came over Buffy at that moment…a new feeling…like the possibility of a relationship that actually lasted for the long term was a foreign concept.

Where had that come from?

Suddenly, the driver’s side door of the car was thrust open as Spike slid into his seat. Pulling the door shut, he glanced her way and gave her a wide grin.

“Got it all worked out, pet. There’s a place up the road from here…an abandoned cabin…we can stay there for the moment,” Spike said as he turned the key and started the car.

“That’s great,” Buffy murmured wearily. She was glad that at last they would be able rest, collect their thoughts…maybe come a little closer to figuring out just where the hell they were going.

It took an hour to get to the cabin, which was just inside the borders of Utah. Spike turned the car down a secluded road that was lined with trees on each side. They turned onto a dirt road and drove a mile or so until a two-story cabin came into view.

Buffy glanced around the area, liking what she saw. The cabin was secluded, surrounded by woods as far as the eye could see. Something caught the light and Buffy realized it was water. There was a man-made lake behind the cabin, about a mile wide.

The thought of going for a moonlight swim briefly glided into Buffy’s brain and she quickly pushed it away. No thoughts of the naughty variety.

Although…

Buffy glanced at Spike who was staring ahead with narrowed eyes, scoping the area out. She shook her head to herself to clear her mind. She wanted to stay focused on the matter at hand…her memories…or lack thereof as the case was turning out be.



At least for the moment.


~**~

Spike had been a little uneasy about the idea of staying in a cabin, at least a cabin that was owned by a demon. He didn’t much care where he slept, but he had a feeling Buffy would, so he’d decided to take the chance on the cabin and was grateful to see that it hadn’t been a bad choice. The cabin was rugged, stuck out in the middle of the woods, but posh as well. It would do.

Glancing at Buffy from the corner of his eye and seeing her awed expression cemented his decision. They would crash here for the night…or many nights…Spike wasn’t sure at the moment. For now, it was all they had. Wasn’t much in terms of a plan, but it was better than nothing. He was bloody knackered from driving and ready for a rest.


~**~

A companionable silence fell over the two as they settled in for the night. No words needed to be spoken. It was if they had said all the things that needed to be said, had come to a point where words didn’t matter.

Spike found himself a little in awe at this new turn in their relationship, although he was using the term ‘relationship’ extremely loosely. Theirs was a coupling that no words could seem to define. What they had couldn’t be put it into a little category, couldn’t be tied up all nice and neat.

Complicated, that was a good descriptive word.

Spike doubted that Buffy would ever regain the memories of their past. As each day went by, Spike found that it was getting easier and easier to accept that the love they had shared so long ago would remain buried inside of her mind, never to return.

It was better that way, wasn’t it?

Keep telling yourself that, mate. Maybe you’ll believe it this time.

Spike turned away from the fire he’d been stoking in the brick fireplace against the wall. He took a step back and admired his handiwork. For someone who’d lived the better part of three years in a cemetery he wasn’t doing to badly with this ‘living off the land’ mentality.

Sensing the presence of Buffy behind him, he closed his eyes, inhaling her scent in, feeling it enervate his body. The scent was clean, yet interlaced with the unique aromas that encompassed this woman. She was all woman, through and through. He clenched his jaw and willed his mind to retreat back to loftier places. He didn’t need to act like a horny teenager around her, it would only frighten her.

But it had been so bloody long…

Bollocks.

Spike shook his head to clear it and then turned around. Buffy was standing by the lone bed in the room, contemplating it as she bit her lip agonizingly. Spike’s eyes zeroed in on her lower lip held between her teeth and felt his mouth water a little, his knees slightly weaken.

Bloody hell…that lower lip…

There was only one bed in the room and Spike realized what Buffy was thinking, agonizing about. She was hesitant to share a bed with him. Which was understandable, since she barely remembered him to begin with.

So, he would do the cavalier thing, the noble thing. He stepped to her side and laid a palm softly on her shoulder, trying not to cringe when she jumped at his touch. He removed his hand as if he’d been burned and took a step back, clearing his throat.

“Have the bed love, I’ll take the floor,” he responded roughly. She turned abruptly, the protest on her lips. Spike held up his hand and shook his head. “No arguments, pet. Bed’s all yours.” Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head.

“I couldn’t Spike. It’s a hardwood floor, you’ll have back pain or something in the morning,” Buffy protested weakly. Spike shook his head with a smile.

“Slept worse places, love. I’ll be fine. Rest now,” he indicated with a tilt of his head in the direction of the bed. Buffy looked as if she wanted to protest more, but realized that she probably wasn’t going to get anywhere.

With a sigh, she stretched her body along the length of the mattress, pulling the thin blanket to her chin. Slowly, her eyes shifted to meet Spike’s.

“Thank you,” she murmured sleepily, her eyes starting to drift shut.

“No worries,” Spike whispered and before he knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin of her forehead. At her sharp intake of breath, he reared his head back, ready to apologize.

But she surprised him with what she did next.

Slowly, she sat upright and then got to her feet, standing inches away from Spike. Her hand reached out, fingertips trembling, as she pressed her palm to his cheek.

Instinctively, Spike closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. The moment between them was poignant, laced with the heavy undertones of yearning, longing.

Buffy removed her hand from Spike’s cheek and then returned to bed, rolling onto her side. Her shoulders rose and fell from the sigh that issued from her lips.

Spike settled his body onto the worn braided rug in front of the bed, pulling his leather duster over himself and doing his best to get comfortable.

It was going to be a bloody long night.

But it helped to have someone to share it with.

Oh I am what I am
I do what I want…but I can't hide…and I won't go
I won't sleep…I can't breathe…until you're resting here with me…


~**~

End of Chapter Eight
 

Chapter Nine

~So Far Away~


A cabin in Utah


The fire was dying slowly, the orange glow from the flames casting shadows over the room, dancing off everything in sight. Spike was not comfortable in his position on the floor. He’d tossed and turned for a couple of hours and finally gave in. He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight that was for sure.

He rolled onto his back and pillowed his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear the whispers of Buffy’s gentle breathing as she slept and the sound comforted Spike.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on the rhythm of each breath she took. He sat upright, leaning on his elbows and turned his head to gaze at her sleeping form on the bed.

God, she was beautiful.

In all of the years that he had known the Slayer he hadn’t ever seen her as vulnerable as she was now. Oh, there had been that brief time after Red’s resurrection spell, when she had come to him seeking solace at first and then…other things.

But she still found an excuse to treat him like dirt every chance she got, so Spike supposed, that didn’t count. She was vulnerable now and the worst part about it was she had no idea that it was a first for her.

Spike sat upright completely and got to his feet. There was a rather uncomfortable looking chair near the fireplace closer to Buffy’s bedside and Spike studied it.

With a shrug, he walked to the chair and settled his body upon it. Anything beat the floor at this point. At least from this angle he could see Buffy better.

Spike fumbled through the pockets of his duster until he retrieved cigarettes and lighter. He shook a smoke from the pack and lit it swiftly. Spike contemplated Buffy through the haze of smoke curling around him, eyes narrowed.

She lay on her back, head turned to one side, body stretched out completely. Her face was relaxed, except for the slight frown that creased her features and at that moment, Spike wondered what she was dreaming about.

It must be something for her to frown like that. He sat upright and peered closer. A soft whimper issued from her mouth and Spike held his breath. He was prepared to wake her at any moment, but soon the sound subsided and Spike’s body relaxed.

At that moment, she shifted in sleep, the blanket sliding lower over her body as she moved. Spike noticed she wore a tiny tank top and at closer inspection, a skimpy pair of bikini panties. He swallowed hard and slammed his body back against the chair; for fear that she would wake up or somehow sense Spike checking her body out.

Bollocks. Bloody hell. Mother fu--

Spike cut off the litany of curses that wanted to issue from his lips. He stood from the chair, tossed his cigarette into the fireplace and stalked across the room, headed to the front door. He pulled it open and stepped out into the chill of the evening, closing the large wooden door softly behind him.

The cool night air settled over Spike’s body as he took in great gulps of it, trying to clear his mind. The chill was doing its job to cool his body which had suddenly become quite heated.

He touched his palms to his cheeks, feeling the flesh that was flushed and warm with heat. It was rare and close to never that Spike’s skin felt any heat that wasn’t a notch or two below room temperature. He shook his head and swatted the air in front of him nonchalantly.

Just the bloody fire. That’s all; he tried to tell himself, pacing the length of the wooden porch, running his fingers through his hair as his thoughts churned.

Spike knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. If the erection straining against the fly of his jeans was any indication, Spike was in a bit of a bind.

He continued to pace in a heated frenzy, hoping the movement would encourage his blood to flow in other directions, loftier directions and not due south. He tried to concentrate on the hushed serenity of the wooded area the cabin was located in. That didn’t work, so Spike squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing. That didn’t end well either, because now he was seeing in his mind’s eye, the form of a half-naked Slayer and once again his jeans were tighter in the crotch area.

Bloody hell.

Spike flopped onto the rickety wooden steps that led up to the porch and lowered his head. He was burning up it seemed, but this was no fever. Vampires didn’t get sick, they didn’t flush with heat. Hell, they didn’t have pulses or body temperatures for that matter. So what was happening to him?

He clasped his head between his hands, knowing the answer to that question the moment it popped into his brain. He wasn’t that big of a bloody fool, or maybe he was and it had taken all of this time for him to realize it. No, there was only one answer.

Buffy.

He wanted her.

Wanted her so badly he could taste it.

Bloody hell…


~**~

Buffy woke slowly when a chill descended over her body. That was when she realized the upper half of her body was uncovered and that the warmth from the fireplace had left the room.

She darted her eyes to the fireplace in question and noted with a frown that the fire had died. She swung her feet over the bed and placed them on the floor, rubbing her bare arms in some way to ward off the chill.

That was when she noticed something else. Spike was gone. His spot on the floor was empty. Her eyes traveled around the room and landed on the chair near the fireplace. His jacket was tossed haphazardly over the arm and a pack of cigarettes and lighter lay on the floor nearby. He couldn’t have gone far; Spike was never without his jacket or the cigarettes for that matter. There was only one logical place she could think of that he would go.

Reaching for the blanket covering the bed, she wrapped it around her body and padded across the room. She pulled open the front door and stepped outside into the night.

Buffy glanced left than right and finally zeroed in on Spike who sat on the porch steps, head bowed. Her features wrinkled into a frown as she neared him, hesitating for a moment as she debated on whether to sit beside him or not.

She was surprised his sensitive vampire hearing hadn’t picked up on her footsteps. No, wait…his shoulders tensed…yeah…he knew she was standing behind him.

“Hello, pet. Care to have a seat?” Spike drawled in his thick English accent, not turning his head to meet her eyes. Buffy felt a wave of heat flush her body as the endearment washed over her.

Pet. Love.

I bet he calls all the pretty girls by those names, Buffy thought to herself with a tiny smile.

Without any further hesitation she plopped her body down beside Spike and glanced his way. At that moment, his head lifted and his azure blue eyes slammed directly into Buffy’s. He seemed to search her gaze for…something. Buffy couldn’t put her finger on it.

But she knew that she liked looking into those eyes. His was a gaze filled with turbulence, passion, heat…whoa whoa whoa…back the thought train up…no…no heat. Buffy shook her head shamefully and lowered her eyes from Spike’s piercing stare.

She didn’t see the frown he aimed in her direction; she was too busy trying to avoid the obvious heat that was flowing between them freely. Buffy didn’t understand her feelings, the all-encompassing fire that snaked over her body…burned like an ember…hot and slow. She shook her head, pulled the blanket tighter around her body and let out a sigh.

Buffy’s mind had been a twisted jumble of troubled thoughts, especially since they had kissed at Wolfram and Hart. She didn’t know where the urge to do so had come from, all she knew that it felt like instinct, felt right.

Everything inside of her body had screamed for him, had yearned for his mouth to be pressed against hers. Another startling thought occurred to Buffy at that moment. She wanted more than his lips pressed against hers; she wanted his body against hers…the comfortable weight of his arms around her, the feel of him inside of her…

Whoa.

Sex with Spike.

Bad thoughts, bad bad bad…

But…

Sex with Spike?

Buffy glanced at the vampire at her side and contemplated him for a moment. Her few memories were telling her that she and Spike had had a relationship. Judging by the last one she’d had in the car on the way here, it had been a fiery relationship, at first based on longing and need. That was what Buffy had gathered so far…but her body was starting to tell her different things.

She and Spike had slept together.

Probably often.

Was it getting hot out here?

Suddenly, a heat like Buffy had never known…or at least didn’t remember knowing…swept over her entire body. It radiated in waves around her…similar to the waves of heat that shimmered over hot pavement.

The blanket covering her scantily clad body was too confining, clinging to her skin in a sweaty mass. Without thinking, she lowered the blanket, swallowing back a sigh as cool air hit the skin of her bare arms.

She could feel her nipples puckering, tightening as they responded to the sudden drop in temperature. But Buffy found that she didn’t want to fold her arms over her chest and hide the evidence, instead she lowered the blanket further until it pooled on the ground at her feet. That was when she heard Spike’s sharp intake of breath, which caused her head to whip around and her gaze to collide with his. What she saw reflected back at her in the depths of his blue eyes was enough to take her breath away.

Desire.

Need.

Lust.

Love…sweet love…Jesus.

Spike gazed at her longingly…pleadingly. As if he was asking permission to touch her. Buffy couldn’t deny him that, because she wanted him to touch her. The ache settling at the juncture between her thighs…that throbbed between them was so painful…but pleasurable at the same time.

The time for thinking was over.

In the quick space of a heartbeat, Buffy had inched over to Spike, clasped his head between her hands and dragged his mouth over hers in a punishing, bruising kiss. Spike returned the kiss with an intense desire that mirrored Buffy’s as their lips melded, as his tongue slipped out, probed her lips, caused them to open, to allow access.

His tongue glided inside of her mouth, intertwined with Buffy’s and a groan issued from her throat as the sensations hit her like a bolt of lightning, the sparks crackling at every nerve ending.

The kiss was powerful, deep and filled with a deep-seated longing that had been buried for too long. Buffy felt it and she knew Spike was right on board with her. She didn’t cringe when Spike’s hands rested on her waist, traveled upward and slid along her ribcage, ghosting over the curves of her breasts.

They continued to kiss as Spike’s hands inched up further, until his palms covered her breasts…and that was when Buffy broke the kiss…and stared directly into Spike’s eyes. Breathing heavily, chest hitching raggedly, she stared into his eyes and silently gave her consent.

That was all the urging Spike needed. He took her hand in his, helped her to her feet and then led her inside the cabin. The moment the door was closed behind them, Spike had pressed her body to the wall beside it and lowered his lips over hers again, capturing her mouth possessively with his, robbing Buffy of precious breath. But it was oh so sweet…

Instinctively, Spike ground his hips into Buffy’s and she gasped inside Spike’s mouth as she felt the male hardness that grazed her stomach, her thigh. She was on fire…literally on fire. The low growl that issued from Spike’s mouth indicated that he was on the exact same page as she was.

The kiss was broken and Spike stared down at Buffy heatedly, his hands resting for a moment on the hemline of the camisole top she wore. Breathing heavily, Buffy watched as his fingers clasped the top and slowly pulled it up and over her head.


She raised her arms as Spike removed the top, laughed when he tossed it across the room. Spike’s ragged intake of breath as he gazed at her naked breasts caused Buffy to liquefy at her center. He cupped both breasts in the palms of his hands and kneaded them, tested their weight. His thumbs dragged over the nipples slowly…achingly.

Buffy’s head slammed forcefully against the wall at her back, her eyes drifted closed and her mouth fell open when his lips descended on her left nipple, drawing the tip into his mouth and suckling it, nipping at it.

Her legs were having a hard time holding her body upright as Spike’s lips and tongue worked feverishly, first on one breast than the other. She gasped and sank her fingers into his hair, clutched his head to her chest and begged him never to stop.

Spike reached for Buffy’s hips and circled them around his waist. He reached for the waistband of her panties and ripped them from her body. Buffy moaned as she heard the distinct sound of a belt loosening, a zipper lowering. She heard the muffled sound of fabric hitting the floor and then lost all coherent thought as in one swift thrust, Spike had sheathed himself inside of her.

Buffy clung to Spike as his hips began to move. He had no trouble at all holding her weight against the wall, as with each thrust he slammed her body against it as his cries of pleasure mingled with her own.

Spike was buried deep inside of Buffy and she could feel him filling every inch of her. For the first time in a long time she was complete. Whole. Not only was Spike claiming her body, but he was also claiming her heart…her soul.

It was real and it was true. Nothing mattered anymore… not the lost and forgotten memories of their past…or the trials and tribulations that lay ahead. Nothing mattered but this moment, as Spike’s thrusts increased in speed.

Buffy tipped her head back against the wall, closed her eyes and moaned her climax, her whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. Her breath hissed through her teeth, as her features contorted in pleasure. Instantly, she felt Spike’s muscles tense and when she opened her eyes, saw that his jaw was clenched, his head tilted back.

He was close…so close and Buffy watched his pleasure play across his features through hooded eyes. But she couldn’t watch for long because her vaginal muscles were contracting once again and pleasure was swirling, coiling deep inside of her. She was coming. Again.

Spike leveled his gaze with Buffy’s as she felt his seed spill inside of her, as her orgasm encompassed her entire body. This time she didn’t close her eyes, just stared deeply into Spike’s as she came. His hand came to rest on her cheek as suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore, the pleasure so intense, it caused her head to fall back and a scream to issue from her lips.

Spike’s body pounded into hers as his release continued. He was unable to hold back his animal-like cries of pleasure and tipped his head back, the sounds mingling with Buffy’s moans. He pressed his mouth to her throat as his thrusts slowed and then came to a halt.

Buffy’s body slumped against Spike’s. She was weak. So weak. Slowly, Spike helped her disentangle her body from around his. She could hardly stand, much less walk, so Spike lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, depositing her gently onto the mattress.

The look they shared was poignant and powerful. It was filled with understanding and mutual need. In the space of time that it had taken for them to reach this moment, hardly a word had been spoken between them. But Buffy found that she was unable to speak, to form a single sentence, as if what they had done had robbed her of coherent thought.

And it was wonderful.

Spike cupped her cheek with his palm, his thumb gliding over her lower lip as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. In moments, he had stretched his body alongside hers, pulled her into the safety and security of his arms, holding her tightly. There mouths met again and Buffy found that desire returned swiftly, fiercely.

She could feel Spike’s erection pressed against her stomach and was amazed to discover that he was on the same wavelength as she was. She curled her body closer to his, her hand traveling between their bodies until she found what she was looking for. Her hand glided over hard male flesh and Buffy gloried in Spike’s ragged intake of breath, as her hand cupped his erection.

“Please love,” he begged. Buffy stroked him slowly, watching his features contort in pleasure, his eyes squeeze shut as the sensations rocketed through his body. Her thumb traced around the head of his shaft, as she massaged him with achingly slow sweetness.

Spike rolled onto his back as Buffy continued to stroke him. Her heart quickened as she knew what she was going to do next. She removed her hand from his shaft, tucked the strands of her blonde hair behind her ears and lowered her head slowly. Her mouth hovered over his shaft as she cast a sidelong glance at Spike and watched in delight as he sucked in a quick breath.

Without further hesitation, Buffy lowered her mouth over his shaft, taking him in inch by agonizing inch. Spike’s hips bucked reflexively off the bed as she dragged her mouth up and down over the pulsating length of his hardness. He groaned and thrashed his head back and forth as Buffy continued.

Suddenly, Buffy sensed when Spike couldn’t take it anymore, his hands reaching for her, as he huskily begged to touch her. She removed her mouth from his shaft and slowly lifted her leg over his hips and legs, straddling him.

She stared down at Spike through heavy-lidded eyes as she began to sink slowly over his erection, taking him inside of her body slowly. She pressed her palms to his chest and began to move. Spike’s hands circled her waist as he increased her movements. He watched with desire as her front teeth sank down onto her lower lip, her eyes drifting closed.

It wasn’t much longer before Buffy’s movements were growing more and more rapid as her pleasure increased. She levered her hands on each side of Spike’s legs and arched her body backward, her head tipping back as she continued her movements. Spike’s hips were bucking in rhythm to her movements, his voice crying out her name.

Soon, the simultaneous cries of ecstasy that issued from their lips echoed around the room, bounced off the walls. Sweat poured from their bodies as they reached the intense height of pleasure, climbing the hill together, reaching the plateau and then finally drifting back to earth on sighs of relief.

~**~

Buffy’s body slumped atop of Spike’s and immediately his fingers sank into her blonde hair. He grasped her head between his hands and lifted it, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to her lips.

He was still buried inside of her, could feel her muscles contracting around his length as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her body. Her vaginal muscles were squeezing his cock…releasing it…and the rhythm of her muscular contractions was sending tiny shockwaves through Spike’s body.

He gritted his teeth as he felt pleasure swift and fierce sweep through his entire body. Again, yes again, he was coming…all from the powerful contractions of the silky warmth that gloved him implicitly.

His hips thrust off the bed as another climax shook his body, his seed spilling forcefully inside of her again. The only coherent thought in his brain as he drifted once again to earth was that he’d forgotten.

Slayer stamina.

Bloody good, is what it was.

That was the last thought Spike had before he drifted off to sleep. He could feel Buffy press her body close to his, could feel the slight movement of her chest as a sigh issued from her mouth in content.

Can we stay like this forever? Buffy thought drowsily to herself as she pressed a palm to Spike’s chest, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Love you Buffy,” Spike mumbled in his sleep. Buffy lifted her head from Spike’s chest and stared at him. His features were relaxed, at peace. She reached out a hand to his face, her fingertips grazing over the scar on his left brow, sliding softly over the hard ridge of his cheek bone. She pressed a kiss to his lips and sighed contentedly.

“I love you too, Spike,” she breathed and then settled her head back onto his chest, pressing her cheek against the cool, smooth skin and losing herself in the serenity of this perfect moment between them.

She loved Spike.

At that moment, she wondered if she always had…it certainly felt that way. A part of her was instinctively drawn to him and the feeling of love wasn’t foreign or strange, instead it was comforting and felt…right…just right. Buffy couldn’t resist the pull of sleep any longer. The lovemaking she’d shared with Spike had wiped her out completely…

But it was the best feeling in the world.

~**~

These are my words
I've never said before
I think I'm doing ok
This is the smile
that I've never shown before
Somebody shake me
cause I, I must be sleeping

Now that we're here,
it's so far away
all the struggle we thought was in vain
All the mistakes
one life contained
they all finally start to go away
Now that we're here
so far away
and I feel like I can face the day
I can forgive
and I'm not ashamed
to be the person that I am today…


~**~

End of Chapter Nine






Chapter Ten

~Haunted~

(A/N: The paragraphs in italics denote Buffy’s thoughts as she dreams. Hope it’s not too confusing. I’ll change it if it is. Also if you have issues with the episode ‘Seeing Red‘ and the attempted rape scene don‘t read this chapter. Just a fair warning.)


~**~

Lying next to Buffy in bed, Spike contemplated the Slayer as she slept. For the first time in two years he felt a sense of peace and contentment that he thought he would never find again.

Having Buffy back was a miracle and a mystery. Not that he minded the mystery part, they would find the answers soon enough, he supposed. Due time for all that.

For now, Spike wanted to savor the afterglow of what he and Buffy had shared. Their lovemaking had been fulfilling…even more fulfilling than Spike could have ever imagined. They had made love many times in the past and it hadn’t even come close to what they had experienced tonight.

Part of Spike was glad Buffy didn’t remember their violent couplings of the past. Some things were best kept hidden away, some paths were just not meant to be walked upon again.

Buffy didn’t remember the colorful past they shared and for that Spike was almost a little grateful. Now he had the chance to show her what real love was, what it meant, how it felt.

He couldn’t wait to show her everything.

Slowly, Spike reached out a hand to the bare skin of Buffy’s shoulder and dragged his palm over it, caressing the smooth soft skin, savoring the texture, the scent. He pressed a kiss to the skin, his lips lingering there a few moments, tasting her.

Was it possible to love someone with such intensity, desire, passion?
Spike thought back on all the past loves of his life and unlife. Cecily. Drusilla. Neither of them came close in comparison to Buffy. She had been the only woman to shine a light into his dark world, the only one to even get the chance to see who really was. And even though it had taken her some time, she had eventually seen past the monster he had once been.

Love was good for the soul, Spike thought to himself with a wry smile.

Right now there was no other place he wanted to be. If the world ended tonight then he would leave it a happy man.

With those final thoughts, Spike straightened the blanket around Buffy’s body and then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He buried his nose in the silky strands of her hair and closed his eyes.

He didn’t think he’d ever see heaven when he passed from this place, but he’d leave with the knowledge that he’d held a tiny piece of it in his arms.

And it was enough.


~**~


Watching me…wanting me…
I can feel you pull me down…
Fearing you…loving you…
I won’t let you pull me down…


Buffy had the vaguest sensation that she was dreaming as she slipped deeper into sleep. The contentment she had been feeling moments before was suddenly replaced with apprehension, fear.

At first the dream started slow, with her opening her eyes and finding herself in a bathroom…possibly the bathroom in her own house back in Sunnydale, Buffy couldn’t be sure. The place didn’t look familiar at all and Buffy struggled with her memories, but came up with nothing.

Getting to her feet, she glanced around the spacious bathroom and noticed the bathtub nearby filling with water. Staring down at herself, Buffy assessed her appearance. She wore a pale green bathrobe and her feet were bare. Walking over to the sink and peering into the mirror above it, she took in her reflection in astonishment.

There was a very different woman staring back at her. This woman looked haggard, tired, used and abused by life. The dull expression in her eyes mirrored back pain and suffering and obviously showed that this woman had seen too much in her young life.

Buffy stepped back from the sink and then grimaced as a sharp pain seized the muscles of her lower back. Instinctively she pressed a hand to the area, squeezing her eyes shut to somehow keep the pain at bay.

A sound assailed her senses and Buffy’s head lifted abruptly. The sound had come from below, downstairs. The whole house seemed to shake from the force of the front door slamming. Buffy held her breath as the sound of footsteps thundered on steps and then stopped at the closed bathroom door.

She frowned and took a step back when the doorknob turned, the door opened slowly and a figure slipped in. He was all platinum hair, black clothes and…

Pain.

Hurt.

Confusion.

It was Spike. Buffy realized she was dreaming about Spike. It was another memory…at last. But Buffy didn’t have time for rejoicing as she stared at the Spike in her memory as he paced the confines of the bathroom like a caged animal. His eyes narrowed in concern when his gaze landed on the hand pressed to the small of her back.

“You hurt?”

The question he asked caused Buffy to instinctively drop her hand to her side as suddenly she felt as if she were acting a part, being operated like a puppet on a string.

She was experiencing this memory full-on, complete with surround sound and 3-D imagery. It was unsettling, but Buffy found herself unable to stop from falling into it. Her legs began to move of their own volition as she trudged to the bathtub and turned off the faucet. She ignored Spike and sat down on the edge of the tub wearily.

“Get out.”

Buffy couldn’t believe how icy and unfeeling her voice sounded as she spoke the two words to Spike, who only frowned back at her. Buffy felt this sudden contempt toward Spike, like the Buffy from her memory held something against him. She tried to fight the feeling but found that it was impossible.

She was to act this out in its entirety and the notion of doing so didn’t sit well with Buffy. Spike continued to pace the bathroom nervously, his eyes darting around as if searching for words to say to her. She got to her feet slowly and studied him. He glanced her way again.

“We need to talk.”

“I really don't.”

“This isn't just about you -- as much you'd like it to be.”

“You spoke. I listened. You leave.”

“I'm sorry. Not that it matters now. But I needed you to know that.”

“Why?”

This what Buffy wondered as well. The conversation she and Spike were having at the moment left her confused and bewildered. What was he apologizing for? Had he done something awful to her? Maybe caused her the physical pain in her back? Back pain? Well, that was no big…accidents happened, right?

But judging by the pained expression on Spike’s face, this was something a little more severe than back pain. Once again, Buffy found herself playing the part, slipping into the role like an automaton, as if her brain was forcing her to remember…trying to tell her something. The conversation continued…

“Because I care about you.”

“Then you might want to try the not sleeping with my friends.”

Whoa…whoa…whoa…he’d slept with one of her friends? Ok, now this was making sense. Buffy understood the feeling of contempt that surged through her veins.

Of course…she was angry he’d slept with a friend of hers. This knowledge solidified Buffy’s notion that she and Spike had shared a relationship in her past…a very troubled relationship judging by what was unfolding in her memory. Once again she listened as the conversation continued with Spike…

“That's not... I didn't go to Anya for that. I was looking for a spell.”

“You were going to use a spell on me?”

“It wasn't for you. I wanted something -- anything to make this feeling stop. I just wanted it to stop. You should have let him kill me.”

Now Buffy was confused again. Let who kill him? Had someone caught Spike with this ‘Anya’? Probably her boyfriend, Buffy assumed. It was the only thing that made sense.

Somehow, she and Spike had had a falling out, he’d slept with another woman and someone had caught them. Buffy didn’t like where the conversation was going. A feeling of uneasiness churned in her stomach. The more she engaged in this memory, the less she was liking it. What was her mind trying to show her?…

“I couldn't.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Because you love me.”

“No. I don't.”

Buffy began experiencing emotions that her past self had probably experienced when this incident had occurred. They were strange emotions. Anger. Fear. Jealousy. Confusion. When she’d denied loving Spike, it had felt like a lie. Buffy was even more confused than before. Why had she denied loving Spike? Then, something occurred to her in that moment, a feeling suffused her being as knowledge flooded over her.

This Spike did not have a soul.

She didn’t know how or why she knew this, but something niggled at the corner of her mind telling her it was true. But if he didn’t have a soul at this point, then why wasn’t he evil? Why wasn’t he trying to kill her?

Something was holding him back, keeping his true nature at bay. Buffy felt this with every fiber of her being. Spike had loved Buffy even before he’d gotten his soul. Buffy had always wondered what it was that had caused Spike to regain his soul. She’d been too afraid to ask.

She was going to find out now, wasn’t she?…

“Why do you keep lying to yourself?”

“I'm not saying I don't have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to become that.”

“Trust is for old marrieds, Buffy. Great love is wild and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes.”

Spike had said that to her? It had been real? She hadn’t dreamt that? Somewhere in Buffy’s subconscious mind she remembered repeating this exact same sentence to Spike…in another time…another place…

One memory at a time, Buffy…

“Until there's nothing left. That kind of love doesn't last.”

“I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore.”

Suddenly, the room was beginning to feel smaller as Spike took slow steps toward her. Buffy was now acting purely out of instinct, living it as she had before. Her steps were measured as she moved backward, away from the vampire approaching her…as he closed the space between them…

A sliver of fear raced over her body. Something was going to happen and Buffy didn’t like the feeling she was getting as a look of menace and confusion colored Spike’s pale features…

“Spike --”

The moment his name left her mouth, Spike had seized himself upon her, holding her wrists, restraining her. Fear like she had never known surged through her body as they fell to the floor of the bathroom, Buffy struggling beneath Spike’s weight, the sound of his voice like a litany in her ear. The sound of her cries as they began to struggle were muffled and distant in her ears. What was happening?…

“Let yourself feel it!…”

“Stop it!…”

“You love me!…”

“Don't! --”

“Let it go... Let yourself love me!…”

“Stop it, please!..

Stop!...

Buffy found herself strangely helpless as Spike clutched and clawed at her body in some desperate attempt to make her feel something for him. The rage radiated from his entire being as Buffy struggled to kick him away from her.

He pulled at her clothes, held her body down as his face contorted in pain. Buffy found herself completely powerless to stop this…this…attempted rape? Just what the hell was happening here? Why was Spike doing this? And why all of a sudden couldn’t she stop him? She was the Slayer for Christ sake! She was probably capable of kicking his ass halfway up and down the planet!

Then why was she struggling? Why was Spike able to overpower her this way? She was confused and scared at what her mind was showing her. This was not the Spike that Buffy knew now. This Spike had been a monster and he’d tried to rape her! What was happening…what was happening…

Wake up Buffy, dammit! Now! Wake up!

Someone was shouting at her from the plane of reality, trying to bring her back, but Buffy found that she resisted the urge to awaken…some morbid part of her wanted to see how this would end. Even though she was terrified...

Finally she was able to push the Spike from her memory off her body and scrabble away from him. She pulled the bathrobe around her body and stared at Spike in horror. He stared back numbly as if he could hardly believe what he had just done. Buffy got to her feet and stared evenly at Spike. She felt as if she were operating on auto-pilot as words began to leave her mouth…

“Ask me again why I could never love you.”

“Oh god. Buffy... I didn't --”

“Because I stopped you. Something I should have done a long time ago…”

Buffy watched him exit the bathroom abruptly and then mashed a fist against her lips as she clutched her bathrobe to her body. This was not good. She pressed her hands to her head, fisting her hair tightly and squeezing her eyes shut.

What the hell had just happened here and what did it mean? What was her memory trying to show her? That Spike was an evil monster by attempting to rape her? Buffy shook her head quickly, as if trying to erase the new knowledge that had been allowed to seep inside her mind. No. No. No. No….This can’t be happening. This didn’t happen. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God…


~**~

Then suddenly, she was awake. Bolting upright in bed, she darted her eyes around the room…panicked…fearful as Spike looked on in confusion. Her eyes collided with his and she scrabbled away from him, pulling the blanket around her body as she half-fell, half-slid off the bed, landing on the floor in her desperate attempt to escape.

Quickly, she got to her feet, wrapping the blanket ever tighter around her body. She couldn’t stop the shaking, the trembling or the cold fear weighing down on her. Spike stared at her, mouth agape, eyes widened in confusion.

“Buffy…what’s going on?” he asked, his voice trembling a little as he slid out of bed and walked around it, approaching her. Buffy took a step back, eyes round with fear and bewilderment.

“Please love,” Spike pleaded, stepping closer. He was only a few feet away from her now and Buffy backpedaled in fright, her body slamming against a wall nearby.

Nowhere to go.

Trapped.

Terrified.

Confused…god damn it so confused…

Spike continued to advance and Buffy pressed her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as the bile rose in her throat. She tried to push the memory out, tried to banish it, but it replayed in her brain. Suddenly her mind was betraying her, showing her things she didn’t want to see.

Stop! Stop! Got to make it stop!

A hand to her shoulder caused her to jump as her body quaked in fear. Spike was only inches away from her now and Buffy found herself frozen to the floor as he stared deeply into her eyes, desperately trying to understand. He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and searched her gaze.

“What did you dream love? Was it another memory? Please,” his voice broke and his eyes lowered. “Tell me. Please love, you have to tell me. Even if it hurts.”

The plaintive sound of his pleas, served to calm Buffy a little. Made her think that she was overreacting a tad.

Breathe, Buffy. Calm. Got to stay calm. It was only a dream. Explain, Spike will explain. Let him. Just let him…

Buffy repeated this in her head like a mantra as she felt her heart slow, the trembling cease, her body relax. Slowly, she slid against the wall until she was in a sitting position. She pulled her knees to her chest and avoided Spike’s gaze.

“The bathroom,” was all she could manage to say.

Silence was all that she was greeted with as time seemed to stretch eternally between them. Slowly, carefully, Spike settled himself beside her, allowing enough space between their bodies so that Buffy would stay calm.

She could feel his eyes on her as he contemplated her statement and she held her breath, waiting for the explanation. Finally after long moments of insufferable silence, he finally spoke.

“Jesus love…of all the memories…” he stopped short, shook his head and started again. “I know what you dreamt about, love. All I can say is that what happened…it was a different time…a different place. And me, I was not a man then. Just a monster…only a monster,” Spike spoke, his voice shaking from his emotion. Buffy realized something in that moment as she stared contemplatively at Spike beside her.

The thing in the bathroom wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t her fault.

It had just happened.

Buffy shook her head at the realization that slammed into her full-force. She understood now. Obviously, there had been circumstances. Spike hadn’t had a soul at the time, hadn’t been able to comprehend the severity of his actions or feel the guilt that was associated with what he’d done. Buffy herself had probably reacted in the only way a woman could…with fear. But had she misunderstood the entire situation? The woman she’d been then…Buffy shook her head. She didn’t even know the half of that yet. She had so many questions; they flooded her mind and threatened to overwhelm her. It was like a tidal wave crashing over her body, the water rising and threatening to take her under.

She needed answers and she needed them now.

She could not depend on her mind or her memories any longer. It was time for the truth and the source of that truth was sitting beside her. Glancing at Spike, Buffy’s heart broke a little as he had seemed to wilt a little beside her. His eyes were downcast, his body slumped and he looked as if he were on the verge of tears.

This was going to be hard.

Painful.

But Buffy was ready to hear it all now.

The good. The bad. The ugly.

Slowly, she reached out her hand, ignoring the slight tremble of her fingertips as she found Spike’s hand. Tenderly, she grasped his hand in hers, lacing her fingers through his. His head came up slowly, tears swimming in deep blue eyes, mirroring the pain and confusion Buffy herself felt. She squeezed his hand tightly and shot him a watery smile.

“Tell me, Spike. I want to know. I’m ready,” she murmured softly.

“Are you sure, love?” Spike’s voice was gravelly sounding from the tears that clung in his throat. Buffy nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It’s not all bloody peaches,” Spike answered slowly. “Some of its ugly, painful. You really want to hear all that?”

Buffy nodded again.

“Please, Spike. I need to know,” she said.

Spike lowered his eyes and stared at the floor a moment as if turning it over in his head. Buffy held her breath and waited. Finally after a minute or two, his head lifted, his eyes met hers. He grasped her hand in his and helped her to her feet. They stood, regarding one another for a moment and at last Spike nodded.

“I’ll tell you everything, love. Whatever you want to know. There’s explanations for everything…well most of it, really. I’ll do my best,” Spike answered. Buffy’s body sagged with relief as it flooded over her. She lowered her eyes and smiled thinly.

“Thank you Spike,” she whispered. The gentle pressure of Spike’s finger beneath her chin caused her to lift it as her eyes slammed into his. The tears were back in his eyes as their gazes collided.

“I love you,” he breathed shakily, unable to hide the quaver in his voice…unable to control the single tear that slid down his cheek.

Buffy felt his pain, his guilt and his remorse. Without a word, she reached out her finger and with a soft gentle motion, swept the tear from his cheek and then leaned forward, pressing her lips to the spot where the tear had been. She closed her eyes and lingered there a moment.

“I love you too, Spike. No matter how ugly our past was, or how painful…I know…I feel the love still burning inside of me. Nothing can change it, I promise.”

Spike released an unnecessary breath and Buffy felt his body slump as the knowledge of her love washed over him.

Hand in hand, they walked to the bed together and slipped beneath the sheets. Buffy positioned herself against the pillows in an upright position and Spike did the same beside her. She gazed at him expectantly…waiting…Spike sighed and began…

“Met you when you were sixteen years old…outside The Bronze in Sunnydale…”


~**~

Nothing's so cold
As closing the heart when all we need
Is to free the soul
But we wouldn't be that brave I know
And the air outside so soft, confessing everything
Everything

All I want is to feel this way
To be this close, to feel the same
All I want is to feel this way
The evening speaks, I feel it say

And it won't matter now
Whatever happens will be
Though the air speaks of all we'll never be
It won't trouble me…


~**~

End of Chapter Ten



 

Next