A/N I wrote this for a few reasons. One I wanted to prove to myself I could
write something around 1000 words. I also wanted to make the bathroom safe
again. I choose this episode because I feel this is the first time Buffy is
truly being honest with both Spike and herself. But I felt it wasn't enough.
This is also a gift for Kella. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. and please remember to
review.
A cleansing
Written for Kella
I should move out...Leave town, before its time for me.
No. You have to stay.
You've got another demon fighter now.
That's not why I need you here.
He stopped. Everything stopped. "Is that right?....and why is that then?"
"Cause I'm not ready for you to not be here."
"And the Principal?" Spike turned to see her face. "How does he fit in?"
She didn't answer. She sat. She didn't move. He could hear the ticking of the
mantel clock mark each second of silence. Unable to deal with the question left
out in the oppressing open, Spike stood. "Right then."
Keeping his face away from her eyes, he took the stairs two at a time. With
vampire speed Spike started the shower and removed his clothes. The steam was
already warming the room and his skin. His feet began to feel warm against the
floor tiles. Once inside the shower he pulled the curtain closed and sank his
body on the bottom of tub allowing the warm spray run over his body.
Spike ignored the opening door. He ignored the slayer essence as it fought its
way past the closed curtain and through the water spray. He willed his tears to
stop their descent down his face. Unsurprised the curtain moved allowing a new
occupant into the shower. Unable to move his gaze from the side of the tub he
asked "Buffy what are you doing?"
No answer.
She pulled him from the bottom of the tub. He stood ready for her to mold him
like the clay he had became. A bar of soap in her hand moved over his back.
Spike clamped his lips together to keep from moaning in rhythm with her hands.
When was the last time she had touched him like this? Had she ever? Buffy turned
him around and pushed his back against the spray. For the first time he noticed
she was crying. "Why are you crying?" He asked. Fear spread through his body,
would she answer, or would he have to face silence again. The soap began moving
again.
"This is when I realized what I had done." As sentences go this one was pretty
simple but he was having problems understanding what she was saying.
"Not following you pet."
"I was so sad in here. I wanted to wash the dirt from my skin, my eyes, my soul.
You came in brought it all back to me. You brought back in the hurt." A few
moments past before she started again. The soap was forgotten as it slid from
her grasp. The thud of the soap was so loud Spike thought it vibrated through
his body.
"The day I tried to...."
"Don't finish that. Don't say it because it is not true." Bending over she
picked the soap back up again and stared at it. Her other hand reached out and
grabbed his. With his palm up Buffy rested the soap in his hand. She moved under
the spray. Facing away from him. Spikes' hand shook as he trailed her neck and
shoulders with the white bar. Once he was finished he moved her so her back was
under the spray.
Refusing to look at her face Spike focused on finishing his job. Refusing to
acknowledge the sharp intake of breath as the soap trailed over her breasts.
Refusing to breathe in her arousal. He turned her around and watched as the
water washed away all traces of the soapy film on her body. Buffy reached out
and turned off the water. Silence greeted the room once more. She was out of the
tub and holding a towel out to him before he even moved. With thick terry cotton
covering their bodies Buffy opened the door, held her hand out to him, and led
him to her room.
He stopped her from opening the door. One strong hand held out in front of hers
holding the door shut. "You don't have to. I’ll stay Buffy.....I’ll be your
slave.... that’s all I can be......that’s all I am." The words rushed out in a
flood of honesty. He waited for her to answer. ‘Damn it girl, now is not the
time for silence!’ He wanted to scream. He wanted to shake her. He was the one
who shook.
She moved his hand and pushed open the door. He stood still as she walked past
the threshold. She paused as she made it just past her bed. Without turning
around she whispered "Come in Spike." He knew then, if Buffy never told him the
words he wanted to hear most in the world, he would happily settle for hearing
those three words as a replacement. Just as long as she said it often. He would
settle.
A room looks different when one is invited. The colors seem sharper, shadows
seem softer. And the woman... ah the woman seems clearer. There she stood, tall,
and proud. Spike cursed inwardly when he realized he missed the towels removal.
‘Too much time spend on the poetry.’ he thought. ‘When the real poetry is
standing in front of you. ‘
He moved to her. Stood so close, that he could feel her breath on his chest, but
so far away he didn’t touch skin. Buffy leaned up on her tippy-toes and kissed
him lightly on his lips. She wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him down
to her. Another touch of her lips to his skin, his jaw this time, just below his
ear. "Make love to me, William, let me make love to you."
He didn’t last long, To much time had past since he had been surrounded by her
melting heat. She had taken the lead, softly pulling off his towel. Slowly
pushing him till the bed his the back of his legs. She kept hold his neck
refusing to allow him to lay back. Buffy straddled his hips and kissed him as
one hand pulled him into her. Two bodies barley moved as Buffy proved she had
muscles he had never learned of. The soft rocking was minuscule. His lips and
fingers tattooed words of beauty on her skin. Her tears cleansed his soul.
"You’re not my slave. You’re my match. You’re my mate. You’re my love." She
whispers as they peaked