PULSE 7

By Mercy

NC-17 but smut free….but next chapter….

Thanks to slackerace Meli and Kar for beta reading the fic. An extra thanks to slackerace and Meli for volunteering for the job. Hmmmm wonder if they regret it yet??

Big thanks to Jessy for being a sounding board for me..yet again.

Please enjoy PULSE it seems to have become bigger, longer and more intense than I ever thought. It has started to really have it's own pulse....and racing.

A/N in NO WAY do I support the bad habit of smoking; it is used for the story outline only. Please don't take up this nasty habit…one that I deeply regret taking up and have spent the last 10 years regretting it!

Asystole
 (definition: No heart rhythm/beat or electrical trace present on EKG or ECG;  i.e., therefore a person is pulseless or 'flat lined')

Two weeks later….

Standing in front of the nurses' station, Buffy watched as Spike sat at the desk filling out the day reports. His hand extended to his forehead as he wrote down the days events in his patient report, so engrossed with this task he never noticed her standing there. She watched his cheek muscle pull and extend as he rubbed his jaw in weariness, covering his mouth as he stifled a yawn. After the wild night they'd spent in bed, she mused, he certainly would be tired.  They were virtually insatiable they had been at it for five hours if she didn't count the little cat naps in between. The last thing on their mind had been the fact that Spike had to start work at 7 a.m.  The alarm had never been set as they'd both been too immersed in each other as they fucked.

A very bleary eyed but satisfied Spike finally arrived at work at 8:15 a.m. with a very large smirk on his face, as he took the gentle ribbing from his female workmates about finally 'nabbing himself a girl, even if it was a dreaded medico'. The other male nurses and attendants on the ward didn't even try to have a ribbing at him. They just casually smiled and asked whether he'd overslept.  He couldn't help but let out a sigh of regret having to leave her in his bed, as he remembered the way she felt around his cock as he thrust hard into her wet heat, or the way her mouth felt around him as she licked her way along its ridged length.

She signed with regret as she looked down at her watch, instantly converting the minutes and hours into military time. It was 3:45 p.m., which was 1545 hrs.  He should have been due to finish work at 1530 hrs except that he'd slept in.  With a sigh, she remembered groggily holding onto him as he tried to leave his bed in the morning. Mistakenly she'd tried to grab him and ended half out of the bed as he slipped onto the floor in front of her, deliciously naked and sprawled out for her to admire.  She had to contain herself from just going over, pulling him away from the desk, hitching her skirt up and undoing his pants so she could mount him to ride him to heaven.

Thinking of their morning together on reflection, she instantly stiffened. Every sight, smell and touch came flooding back to her. So did a realisation of truth that came out of nowhere and smacked her right in the face. Nothing had changed since the day that she'd told him she wanted to be more than just a fuckbuddy. The only thing that had really changed had been the fact that they slept together a lot more. Usually in locations that were more convenient like his place or hers, rather than the hospital or some other public place. Besides that, nothing had changed except her feelings towards him were developing quickly and surely. However, she didn't think that Spike felt the same way as some serious doubts fell into place.

It was self-evident that Spike was in it for the lust factor.  He never seemed to get enough of her in his bed. The way they went back to work and then home to fuck. Never anything in between.  Was she kidding herself that she could mean anything more to him than… she winced at the crude words that came to mind.  A fuck toy? There, she'd thought it. Yet within her, another part of her consciousness was flooded with reassurance that she meant more to him than that. It wasn't enough to destroy the heavy doubt that still plagued her thoughts. Not enough to dispel the sense of reality that played on her emotions.

Buffy shook her head as someone from behind tapped her on the shoulder trying to get her attention. Dr. Karen Childs stood behind her with a relative of the patient she wanted to discharge. In a quiet voice, Dr. Childs told Buffy to write up the discharge summary and script, so that the patient could be discharged and then noted with a knowing smile on her face that 'Buffy could go home'. Karen hadn't missed the energized young woman that had come to work today. Yet now she noticed a change in her junior doctor, something was missing. Some of her spark was gone.

Spike looked up from where he sat, as he saw his lover listen to the instructions that her boss was giving her. The intense look of concentration mixed with relief washed over her face. She turned her face towards him and proceeded to become a beetroot red as her boss continued to speak to her. He could only imagine what was going through her devious little mind, and he hoped that it was something that they both could enjoy. Cocking his head to the side in a questioning motion, he mouthed the words 'what's wrong?' to her. Buffy replied by shaking her head towards him. He glanced over to her boss and back to Buffy, he looked at his watch and pointed to the dial. "Finished."

"Me too, but I have to do this discharge first." Buffy spoke quietly trying not to attract the attention of the other nursing staff or anyone else. "Childs  is giving me an early mark today. Thought maybe we could go out…see a movie or dinner. Just the two of us." Let him prove me wrong, she thought, please let me mean more to him than just an easy lay.

"How long?" Spike stood up and leaned over the desk in front of her so they could speak quietly. "Better yet how long 'till we can get home and I can get between those dimpled thighs of yours?"

"It that all you can think about Spike? Getting between my legs?" Buffy tried not to explode as she pulled herself slightly away from the desk. Spike ran a hand over the desk and over her hand that leaned against the desk. "Stop it!"

"Make me. Can't wait to get my girl home and make her see stars." Spike leaned over further and titled his head as if trying to kiss her. Reacting quickly she pulled herself totally away from the desk and moved quickly away from the nurses station. "Buffy wait!"

"No Spike, go back to the desk and finish what you're doing," Buffy glared angrily back at him and whispered.  "I'm not just a fuck you know!"

Not liking that answer, he grabbed her by the hand and made her tag behind him as he quickly walked to a large storage room at the end of the long corridor. Opening the door he pulled her in, before closing the door behind him, he looked back at the nurses' station. Seeing a very bemused Dr. Childs smiling and shaking her head, she took the paper work that Buffy should have been doing and waved her hand dismissively towards him. His hand flicked the switch that turned on the dim lighting in the room.  Still holding her hand he led her into the furthest corner of the room. Pushing her gently against the shelves he slid his hands up her arms until they came to rest on her shoulder. Buffy clenched her teeth against her anger, trying to contain it within herself before she gave him a well-deserved punch in the nose.

"What's wrong with my girl?" Spike asked sarcastically. "Tired pet?"

"You're a pig, Spike," Buffy closed her eyes.

"Got your period, luv?" Spike laughed. "Not in the mood, luv? Don't ya wanna get 'Spiked'?" He grinned cockily as he grabbed her buttocks and ground them against his growing hard on. "Can't wait 'til we get home and I can fuck you so hard…"

"Fuck you, you arrogant bastard!!" Buffy spat at him. "Hang on …been there done that. So what, Spike, just want another fuck from me? That all I'm good for Spikey? A good, hard fuck?"

"Buffy don't you ever say that again." Spike let her go with such force that she nearly fell as he withdrew his support from her frame. "You are more to me than a 'fuck,' as you so eloquently put it, and don't you ever…ever suggest otherwise. If you think that all you are is a 'fuck' to me, then I don't think you know me at all…or anything about me!"

"I know that you like to sleep with me. How you like to be dominated in bed. You like to have your cock…" Buffy stopped as she watched Spike close his eyes and swallow hard, listening as she lashed out what she was thinking. "I don't know what your favourite colour is, or music… or anything about your family.  I don't know anything."

"That's not true Buffy, and you know it." Spike opened his eyes, both glazed in hurt at her accusations as he'd already shared so much of his past and himself with her. Buffy knew more about him than any other person on this planet, even more than he himself knew. "Where is all of this bull shit coming from?"

"Nowhere. It's the truth and you know it."

 "Bollocks!" Spike spat out. "What? Having second thoughts about us now, Buffy? Regrettin' me already are you, luv?"

"No Spike, there is 'nothing' to regret. But where are we going with this? Nowhere. The only place you seem to be interested in is between my legs and it's not enough anymore, Spike." She slowly looked down and with a wisp of air she continued, "It's not enough anymore….nothing has changed since we first got together. We're going nowhere."

"Nowhere?" Spike spoke with such rawness in his voice. "What have we been doing for the last few weeks…months, Buffy? Making a connection between the two of us…making love…being together. And you say that it's going nowhere?  Where, may I ask, do you expect it to go Buffy? Where?"

"We've never even been out on a date," Buffy accused him. "Not once have you taken me out. All we do is fuck at either your place, mine, or in some public place."

"Are you saying that you think we're going nowhere because we've never been on a date?" Spike clenched his teeth. "Is taking you out to a restaurant meant to earn me points in your book? So we 'connect' a lot, does it really matter where? Your place, mine or somewhere else? Does it take away from the excitement of when I'm inside you? When I'm tasting your sweet nectar...or when… "
 
"No," Buffy looked at him her eyes brimming with tears. "You're twisting what I'm saying…it always comes back to sex with you."

"Then what, Buffy? What on earth are you talking about because it ain't making any bloody sense to me! I'm not twisting anything…you're not making any sense."

"I don't know anything anymore Spike…me, you…us?"

"When you do know come and see me Buffy," Spike looked away from her, lifting his hand he broke all contact with her. "Until then…fuck, Buffy…you're my girl!" he turned back. "I want you. I could have any girl I want. I could find a fuck any day of the week. Bugger it, I could do myself and not have to worry about putting up with this bullshit.  I doubt that I'd have to look far for a 'fuck' considering how we met, luv….I found you in an alley didn't I?" With a hardened look in his eye, he turned around and began to walk out of the storeroom and into the corridor, leaving an emotionally charged Buffy in the dimly lit storeroom.

Alone.

                       ~~***~~~***~~~***~~

Spike pulled his helmet from the locker, before slamming the door shut with a sharp flick of his wrist. He stared into the blackened reflection of himself that the shiny surface threw off. Swearing softly at himself as he allowed her words to bond with his consciousness, without resolve he turned towards the door and left the change rooms. Slinking in the shadows behind him, keeping her distance so that she wouldn't be discovered was Buffy. She followed Spike, as he walked down the staircase to the staff car park.  

Horrified at herself for the words that had passed between them, she felt like a dim-witted daft fool, every syllable that had found resonance from her throat had been false. Once she'd started down the course that she'd set in anger, she hadn't been able to stop herself. Every word had been laced with malice and the pain she felt, in the incompleteness she experienced in her feelings towards him. Something inside of her was reaching out for him and Buffy felt like he was reserved in allowing her to see his true self.  

She wished that she could relive that moment and take it all back, but she couldn't. Not knowing how he would react when he saw her again, she hesitated in revealing her presence to him. The anger in his stride pronounced to the world to 'leave me alone or else;' occasionally she would catch a glance of the side of his face that showed the taut muscles of his features. Again, she berated herself for her childish behaviour.  They'd been slowly evolving their relationship to allow it to define itself and mean something to both of them. Nevertheless, she wanted it all now, the emotional depth and commitment that came with any relationship.

It had become more than just a 'fuck' despite her insensitive words said in irrational anger.

So involved within her thoughts, she didn't see him standing dead in front of her as she came around the final corner of the staircase. Almost smacking herself into his standing form against the staircase railing, she reeled backwards trying to avoid him. His hand came out to keep her steady as Buffy tried to regain her centre of gravity, her head spinning from the sudden standstill of her frame. She clung onto his hand as she let herself fall into his body, her hands gripping the leather jacket that he wore. Her face landed onto his chest, and her nostrils flared as she smelt the intense cocktail that was the scent of him. The aroma of the sterile environment he worked in and the faint tinge of cigarette smoke clung onto the oxygen she inhaled. With steady hands, he pulled her away from his body for the second time that day. Looking at her, she was confronted with the antagonism splayed over his face, causing her to stiffen as she stood motionless.

"Buffy?" Spike asked her questionably with a harsh tone. "Are you all right?"

"No," Buffy quietly responded to his question. "No I'm not."

"Where are you hurt?" Spike looked over her form trying to assess whether she was hurt or not. "I don't see where you hit yourself or …?"

"I'm not hurt Spike, but I'm not 'right' either." Buffy pulled herself closer to him, pushing him deeper against the railing. "Things are kinda mixy with me at the moment and I've made myself miserable. Not to mention I've made my man miserable too."

"Buffy I'm not in the mood for any more of your games tonight, luv," Spike tried again to push her away from him. He doubted that he could last a second go with her today. "You've made your point earlier today luv and I get the message."

"Spike!" Buffy tried to tighten her hold on him as he moved himself away from her. "I'm sorry…I was wrong to say some of the things I said."

"Right," Spike looked reluctantly and disbelievingly at her. "Apology accepted." With that, he continued down the staircase around the last corner of the steps. Buffy followed closely on his heels, trying to keep up with his quick strides towards his bike that stood along side others. He refused to look at her any more as she tried to keep up with him.  Grabbing onto his leather coat in an attempt to slow him down, she nearly ripped it off him.

"Spike, wait!" Buffy begged him, shouting "please William!" when he wouldn't respond to her pleading. "You have to believe me! I'm sorry Spike.  So sorry!"

"Buffy, I said apology accepted." Spike pulled the helmet over his face and got onto the motor bike. "Now be a good girl and go away. You got what you wanted in the end luv; a man between your legs when it suited you. Not that I was complainin'."

"What did I get in the end Spike? Saying some of the stupidest things that I have ever said?  I'm sorry, Spike. I was the one who pushed you for more …" Buffy yelled out to him, but stopped mid sentence as something he said came to light. "What do you mean what we have wasn't enough?"

"I'm drowning in you Summers, and you're just ripping me apart." Spike looked at her with such pain in his eyes that he couldn't hold her stare for long as he finished what he was saying. "Today you might as well have taken a stake to my heart…"

Kicking the gear plate out, he started the engine of the bike, revving it as he opened the throttle and moved forward slightly. Sliding the darkened perspex shield over his eyes he gripped the bike beneath him as he pulled away again leaving a desolated Buffy alone. A single tear slid down her face, as she realised the immense damage that she had inflicted on Spike. She could only hope that it was repairable. The depth of the pain she felt well up within herself was immense, she could feel her vision become blurred and her mind shatter.  As she walked backwards, she felt the cool metallic surface of a car and stood completely still, allowing herself to be supported by the automobile. With a hand, she wiped away the tears that now flowed freely from her eyes, as she continued to watch him ride away.

Without her.

Turning his head slightly around he watched as she staggered back until she hit the hood of the nearest car parked in the lot next to the assembled bikes. He winced as she wiped away the tears that came to her eyes and had to make himself accelerate away from her. He felt like an absolute git for making her feel like that, but what else was he to do? Let her say the things she'd said to him and just accept what she'd said? He had some pride and was never going to be, as he liked to put it, 'loves bitch'. If Buffy thought that a few words, tears, and apologies were just going to wipe the slate clean then she was wrong.

Yet an overwhelming sense of guilt hit him as he continued to travel down the road; he could and should have been kinder to her. He should have been reasonable and listened to her apology and not go of half-cocked like he always did. Pulling over he took off his helmet and lit up a cigarette, with a few deep inhalations he allowed the smoke to infiltrate his lungs. Ditching the butt he revved the engine, took off and turned the bike around back in the direction of the hospital, arriving back quickly he returned to the parking lot.

She wasn't where he'd left her, but he hadn't really expected her to be there. Taking his bike around the corner, he went to her parking space only to find that empty too. The only thing visible was her name plate 'Dr B. Summers' clearly defining her car space. Making a quick decision, he exited the lot and headed down the road in the opposite direction. He sped all the way to Buffy's apartment block and slid into the first space that he could find. Parking the bike and turning the engine off, he just sat on the seat for a few moments longer before going to confront her. Taking a deep breath he left the bike, walked into the building and took the elevator up to her apartment, hoping that she would be there. Looking around at the deep wooden inlay in the wall of the elevator, his memory jogged to the last time he stood in this elevator with her. He remembered the deep and sensual kiss they'd shared in its cloistered walls, the way her body had molded to his in the heat they shared. He smirked when he remembered she had to push him away from her, as a loud 'excuse me' had come from one of her neighbours, alerting them to the fact that not only had they arrived on her floor, but the doors were wide open. Wide open, with the slightly embarrassing sight of his hand down the front of her pants and her hand stroking his cock.

Shaking his head of the memory, he exited the elevator and walked to her door, standing in front of it he knocked softly. With no answer, he knocked louder until he could hear footsteps coming from the apartment and the door opening slightly. A bewildered Buffy stood behind the heavy wooden door that partly shielded her from his sight. Her eyes were slightly puffy and reddened, this only intensified the feeling of guilt that he had. Okay he now stood at level of 'super git' one just above 'git'.

"Buffy, let me in." Spike spoke quietly.

"No…" came almost as a whisper.

"Please sweetheart…"

"No…go away." She was just too worked up to see him and be confronted with her stupid behaviour. She just didn't want to deal with it. "I'm sorry, William, but I can't."

"Buffy, let me in so we can talk," Spike leaned into the doorframe.

"No!" Buffy began swinging the door shut in his face. "Please."

"You can't shut me out Buffy," Spike spoke reassuringly.

"Want to bet? Because I already have," and with that Buffy slammed the door shut on his face. She left a very bewildered Spike standing alone in the hallway of her apartment complex.

"Fuck!"

PULSE 8

NC-17 SEX SENCE AND USE OF LANGUAGE

A/N Thanks to Kar and Meli for having their usual great input to this fic. To my regular readers for nagging me to get back into the writing. Life has been kind of mixy at the moment. I've left my old job, moved 400 kilometres away, sold my old house, started a new job and just brought a new house….stress…gotta love it.

Cyanotic  
(Definition; slightly bluish grey discolouration of the skin due to reduced numbers of haemoglobin cells in the circulatory system, in layman's terms there isn't enough oxygen in the blood stream and the body is deprived of oxygen. An example of this is blue tarnished fingers, toes and lips.)

A week later, she felt just as raw and stripped of all pride since that fateful day with Spike. It just kept playing repeatedly in her mind. Like a film that refused to stop, she would do the most insignificant thing and a memory or word would reoccur. Slicing its way through her mind and down deep into her being, crippling her ability to eat, sleep or just function normally. She couldn't concentrate on work, she started to make mistakes and this wasn't going unnoticed by Karen. Buffy would shudder away from any type of physical contact and snap at anyone that dared question her decisions or authority.

Spike hadn't been to work for over a week, apparently taking sudden leave from work due to 'a death in the family'. He'd had no immediate family that he'd ever spoken about, he'd admitted that he had a living mother and father, but that was all. Not another single story or word came from him about his family. They might as well have been nonexistent for all she knew. Buffy knew that it wasn't true that a relative had died; it was just a poor excuse. Yet something from deep down inside her screamed back 'and like you would know whether it was true or not' and a quiet just audible 'yes you do know the truth, stop making out that you know nothing about him' reply.

He was due back into work today, this afternoon. Now. This minute. Each second that passed with out him being there shredded itself through her nerves. Dread had plagued her everywhere she went, it had hung around her all day darkening her mood and making her jumpy. Her stomach churned and twisted with each second, curling around itself internally, making her feel nauseated. Buffy couldn't do anything right today and the menacing thought that it was only going to get worse as it weld up to her throat.

She didn't miss the odd looks that she received from the nursing staff on the ward. She saw worry, concern and jealousy from many a female nurse. She even thought that she might have seen jealousy from one of the male nurses. Shrugging her shoulders at that one, some of them cut deep into her psyche. Buffy had come to like many of the nurses on the ward as they'd helped her adjust to the area in the beginning of this rotation. It was disappointing that they all seemed to have taken sides not knowing her part of the story.  Looking around her, she noticed that the change of shift for the nursing staff was underway.

Spike wasn't amongst the chattering females.

Buffy found herself caught within the glare of one of the nurses standing behind the nurses' station. The nurse leaned down to hear the whisper of gossip from another female nurse, shaking her head as she listened. Buffy assumed that they were talking about her as the nurse gasped and glared harder, as the other woman continued to whisper the words in her ear. Moving away from the gossiper, she started in on her target and like the hunted, Buffy tried to retreat away from the nurses station without causing too much of a scene.

"Dr. Summers, I want to talk to you," the nurse called out to the retreating doctor. "Dr. Summers."

Buffy turned her head, as she continued to retreat from the stalking form of the nurse she remembered from the cardiac arrest a few weeks ago. She was the one that gave her words of encouragement and reassurance, when Buffy hadn't been able to save a patient from the gas blast that had all started this sorry tale.

"Dr Summers," the young nurse tried again. "Buffy, please stop."

Her head snapped further around at the mention of her name, even though she was used to the nursing staff calling her by her first name. The nurses' voice was laden with worry and concern she could only surmise was for her. Coming to a complete stop at the nurse's tone, she turned around to face her, looking at her nametag she read.

Melissa Blaxland. Registered Nurse.

"What Melissa?" Buffy couldn't keep any eye contact with the woman as she could only guess what she was thinking. "What didn't I do for which patient?" Buffy slumped her shoulders in defeat; she'd worked hard to finish her rounds early so she could get out of the ward area as quickly as possible.

"Dr. Summers, do we need to play games?" Melissa grimaced as she watched Buffy's face crumple before her. "I think we better find somewhere quiet to talk." Looking quickly around the hallway she pointed towards the staircase. "How about I buy us a coffee and we sit in the parking lot while I have a ciggie." Melissa grabbed Buffy by the arm and guided her down the staircase in quick two steps.

"What is it with you nurses and smoking?" Buffy huffed at Melissa. "They'll kill you slowly and painfully. But then again one of you deserve to."

"That's not kind doctor, especially considering we're your colleagues," Melissa shook her head towards the young woman. "Okay straight to the point," Melissa pulled Buffy into the staff lounge to get them the promised coffee from the machine. Finally handing her one she asked quietly out of the range of hearing of others. "He can be an idiot sometimes. What did he do?"

"Who?" Buffy stiffened immediately; her already tight straining muscles went ridged and screamed out in physical pain. "I don't know what…"

"Oh please!" Melissa hissed. "Please don't treat me like an imbecile doctor. I may not have M.D. next to my name but I'm not blind or stupid…"

"I never said that you were," Buffy looked away from the woman. "I just don't think that it's in your job description to stick your nose in my business."

"Hey," Melissa lifted her arms up, "I surrender. I don't want to argue with you about what's my job and what isn't. But what I do think is my business is William. He is my friend and has helped me out more times than I can count on my hand."

"Good for him," Buffy started to walk back towards the staircase that would take her back up to the ward. "I'm not interested in his acts of being a Good Samaritan."

"Buffy," Melissa reached out and grabbed her arm. "I'm not here on his behalf or anyone else's. I'm here because you made him happy. He has a spark inside of him that I've never seen before.  Not to mention the fact that you two crackle when you're in the room together. What gives?"

"None of your business!" Buffy pulled her hand of her wrist. "I won't talk about my private life with someone I don't know." She walked in quick strides away from Melissa, but by the nurses' next sentence she came to a screeching halt.

"You mean more to him then a 'roll in bed' you know," Melissa whispered at her. "I know about you two and all the wicked things you've been doing together. Funny enough, I'm a little jealous. Wish I were getting that much action in the sack."

"What! How could you know…fucking Spike told you everything?" Buffy exploded. It was bad enough she felt like shit, but for him to blurt it out to someone else just added to the multitude of his sins. "What we do…or did together is no one else's business. He had no right to tell you."

"He had every right to talk to me Buffy," Melissa glared at her again. "Considering that you didn't seem interested when he came to your apartment and you slammed the door in his face."

"What? After he had been an inconsiderate, sarcastic and insensitive jerk!" Buffy's eyes narrowed together as her brow creased with all the anger she felt. "He obviously told you his twisted version of events and not all of the conversation we had."

"Yeah he only told me snippets of things Buffy," Melissa's voice filled with genuine concern as she continued. "I may not have the full truth but one thing's for sure he realises that he's truly fucked up."

"He has no idea how badly he's fucked up," Buffy sipped her cooling coffee. "He has no idea how much he's hurt me or how I feel."

"Then tell him," Melissa pleaded on behalf of her friend. She would do what she could to encourage the two to try to work it out and get back together. "What have you got to lose?"

"Everything," Buffy whispered. "I have everything. He'll never understand exactly how I feel or how much I am hurting. Never."

"Then make him understand. Do what you have to make him understand how you feel. Show him anyway you can."

Buffy face changed slowly over the next few seconds as Melissa's words descended through her mind. Thoughts and ideas filled her mind, options and decisions made about what to do about Spike. In a spilt second, a plan warped and twisted itself into her perception of how to handle the situation. Yes, she would show him how she felt. Exactly how she felt. Precisely what it meant to be at her end of their 'relationship'. Every twisted and nauseating truth about how she felt would be evident for him to see after she was finished with him. With a smirk on her face, she looked into now worried eyes of the young nurse and laughed with a broken monotone.

"I'll do just that," Buffy looked down at her watch. "He'll thoroughly comprehend how I feel by the time I'm finished with him."

"Buffy?" Melissa tried to get Buffy to look at her again. With a sharp tug of her hand, Buffy broke all contact with her and walked away from the nurse. "Stop Buffy!" She left Melissa to stand alone in the shadows of the room.  It was too late; the young woman was too far away to hear her pleas. Melissa could only hope that she could tell William in time so that he could avoid further hurt. However, she doubted that anything could lessen the pain he felt now. She just hoped that they didn't inflict to much more pain and suffering on each other.

Buffy appeared to have different ideas.

                                                             ~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~**~~~

She stood quietly under the tree positioned next to his house; her dark clothing hid her slight form under the shadow of darkness. Her eyes followed the trunk branch out to the tips of the leaves that brushed the side of the house to the roof and an open window. A direct route to the master bedroom window that was open to let the cool breeze in, on this balmy night. Keeping her hands strewn tightly against the trunk of the tree, she used it to hold herself in place. She was straining against the tide inside her that beckoned her to climb the tree and into his bedroom.

Each delicious kiss, lick, touch and slide of his cock inside her came flooding back into her system. It created such heat and warmth inside her core and flooded her pussy with slick moistness that it soaked through to her panties. Yet still the hurt and pain poured over the heat and it generated such an ache of disillusionment. That it suppressed everything else but the need to make him understand precisely how she felt. So strong that it became instinctual.

Unable to halt the overwhelming need to submit herself to her baser instinct, she vaulted herself onto the trunk of the tree and climbed up to the roof. As quietly as she could she walked across the tiled roof with arms out to balance herself, she stopped just outside the view of the window. Flushing herself against the side of the house, next to the crease of the window frame, she looked in through the glass.

Lying on the bed, covered with just a linen sheet, he lay in a heavy sleep on the bed. Her eyes covered every millimetre of his flesh that lay before her. She didn't miss the light sheen of perspiration that covered his delicious flesh in the warmth of the night. Memories of how he tasted under her tongue crept into her mind; shaking her head she buried the memory deep inside her. She didn't need distractions from reaching her goal.

Making himunderstand her hurt and pain.

With stealth like movements, she pulled herself inside the bedroom through the open window. Hugging herself to the wall, she headed in the direction of his sleeping form. Her fingers trailed over the hard surface of the wall, she swung herself around the furniture that got in her way. Until she stopped just at the side of his bed, she reached out and touched the bedhead. Swallowing hard she remembered hanging onto the frame of the old antique cast iron bed with such force to keep herself upright as he slammed into her from behind. She vividly remembered his long deep strokes as he had penetrated her to the core with his hard cock and the howling orgasm that flooded within her.

Hesitating, she turned slightly in an awkward attempted to stop this wild folly. Yet her reflection in the mirror opposite stopped her. She looked into the reflection of the oval mirror that Spike had pulled out the last time she'd lain in this bed with him. So that he could watch himself fuck her and she could see herself come under his touch. Biting her tongue, she had to stop herself from calling out in the desperate pain that crawled around inside her. The resolve to see this through flooded her veins and renewed her strength. She had to do this….

She'd come here to show him how it felt to feel like just a 'fuck'.  He'd claimed to Melissa that she'd been more than just a 'roll in the hay', that she meant more to him than that. Yet to Buffy, it seemed like nothing had changed between them since the first time in the alley except they knew each other better.  The fact that unfortunately she seemed to have begun developing feelings towards him seemed to have had no impact on him. This had made their time together more special and precious on her part at least. Especially when she'd told him that she wanted more and he'd been happy to be her 'man'.

Buffy knew that he'd experienced what it meant to be just a connivent body for someone, even if that somebody at one time had been her. She'd stupidly thought that they'd moved beyond that, become more than connivent bodies slamming together in the darkness. Spike attitude towards her hadn't changed, he'd fuck her anytime and in any place that took his fancy. He'd seemed elated when she'd asked for more from him and seemed so possessive towards her. Yet never had he even taken her out in public, not once on a real date, just home to his place or hers to fuck all night long. It wasn't enough anymore, not by a long shot. Therefore, it was time to take matters into her own hands and remind him what it felt like to feel like just a fuck. Feel her hurt from the emotional connection she had hungered after from him.

Time she put her plan into action…

Out of her pants pocket, she pulled out four pre-tied long soft silk strips.  Trying not to wake him, she tiptoed around the bed laying two to the bedhead, pulling out the silk strips to lie down next to his arms. Laying a folded one next to his feet and the other silk strip on the empty pillow next to him, she prepared him to receive her retribution. From the bottom of the bed, she pulled the sheet away from his sleeping form and threw it onto the floor. Quietly she stood back from the bed and admired her handy work, with baited breath she pulled her shirt off and laid it on the chair by the window. Running her hand through her hair, she removed the tie that held it in place and let her hair spill over her shoulders. Pulling her pants off, she threw them on top of the shirt and her underwear followed suit.

Now the trial of her determination to go through with this would be put to the test.

As slowly and quietly, as she could Buffy came to stand at the end of the bed.  With soft touches and deliberate controlled movements, she slipped the silk strip between his ankles and knotted the ends together. Looking up after she accomplished the manoeuvre, she let out a quiet sigh of relief that he hadn't awoken him. Slipping back to along side the bed, Buffy grabbed the tie that lay at his side and strung it from the bedhead.

Taking his hand, she gradually moved it up towards the bars of the bedhead. With a slight flick of her hands, she slipped the already looped ends of the strips around his wrists and secured it in place. Buffy moved around the other end of the bed and repeated the process. Each second that passed left her more vulnerable to him waking and spoiling her plans. At all cost she had to avoid him awakening before she was ready to deal with him.

Looking over her handiwork, she decided that all the strips where in place and secure enough to hold him in place. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath as she approached the bed; she stopped once her knees brushed the edge of the bed. Slipping one knee on the bed, she climbed onto the empty side of the bed. Taking the tie from the pillow, she folded it in half and laid it gently over his closed eyes. Instinctively reacting, Spike immediately woke up, straining to sit up as he realised the harsh reality was that he was tied up. It only made the knots tightening their hold around his wrist as he tried to push himself off the bed.

Buffy slung herself over him, until she sat astride his body and could miss the "fuck" that came out from his mouth. She rode him though his attempts to buck her off, but didn't miss a beat as she fastened the silk strip around his eyes. Blinding him to his captive. Grasping his head in her hands, she slipped her fingers through his hair and made 'shhhhhhhhhh' noises at him. Sliding one hand down his face she, lifted a single finger over his lips to quieten him down. Instantly he stopped, he immediately relaxed his body as he recognised something familiar about his 'abductor'. His nostrils filled with the faint smell of familiar perfume, but it triggered something deep within him.

Desire, lust and need.

"Buffy?" Spike whispered quietly. "It's it you luv?"

She responded to his question by bending down to let her hair run along his pectorals. His nipples instantly hardened as she let her tongue taste the salty skin that puckered under her rough strokes. His breath slowed from irregular sharp short gasps of air as she gently bit the peaked flesh, to almost nothing as he struggled against the will to fight his way free. To break free and take command of her, to give Buffy so much pleasure until she begged for mercy as she screamed his name as she came.

Spike could feel her licks and nips already take affect as desire welled up inside him. He felt the veins in his cock begin to dilate as the skin around the muscle begin to stretch and harden with the blood that begin to flow within it. Just above his groin, he could feel her pussy was teeming with moisture. She was so wet that it dripped from her onto the heated skin of his lower abdomen. Lifting his hips from the bed, he rubbed his cock against the cheeks of her bottom, trying to show her just how ready he was for her.

"Buffy, been to long luv without you." Spike begged for her. "Please luv I need you. Need to feel the inside of you…"

He pushed his cock harder against her buttom cheeks and gyrated his hips a little to expose as much of his hard flesh to her soft skin as possible.  With limited sensory ability, he felt her lean her torso over his, anticipating that she was about to mount him, he lowered his legs to lay flat on the bed again. Buffy slid her hands along his abdominal muscles, tracing each grove she found between each sinewed muscle. Licking a single finger, she slid the wet finger along his abdominal muscles, over the flat skin until she reached his collarbone. Making swirling patterns on his flesh, she contemplated her next move.

"Tell me you need me," Buffy finally spoke as she questioned him.

"I need you," Spike lay completely still.  Her tone was raw, broken and ached of something that he couldn't quiet make out, a desperation maybe, but he wasn't so sure. It was the last thing on his mind at the moment, besides the woman that sat above him.

"Tell me you want me," Buffy continued.

"I want you," Spike spoke with as much emotion in his voice that he could muster. "You know I do."

"Tell me…" Buffy voice broke, as she didn't continue with her sentence.

"What baby?" Spike spoke to her with a gentle reassuring tone. He needed her so much and she was just an inch away. He so desperately wanted to show her how much she affected him. "Tell you what?"

"Nothing," Buffy voice resinated with a sudden resolve. "Nothing Spike. It doesn't matter except what happens here in you're bed doesn't it?"

"Buffy?" Spike spoke with an unsure pitch.

"Shhhhhhh," Buffy ran her fingers along to his mouth and finally laid a single finger on his lips again. "I have a much better use for your mouth than just speaking Spike."

Sliding her lower body up long his torso, she stopped just at the bottom of his neck. Spreading her legs slightly more apart, she placed both of her hands on his biceps and squeezed the muscles. Descending her hands along his arms, she reached just below his hands and grasped onto his wrists with her fingers. Slowly she raised herself slightly and slid herself upward until her open wet flesh lay inches above his face. Her sweet smell of arousal instantly hit his nostrils, his nasal cavities flared with desire and his mouth watered for the nectar he was about to taste.

"You do have other uses for that mouth of yours don't you Spikey," Buffy softly spoke. "So good at making me come and tearing me into two from the inside out."

"Gonna make my girl sing tonight," Spike replied totally missing her point.

"Then put your mouth to use Spike and prove it," Buffy moved her hips just above his lips and lowered herself slowly until his nose just lay below her upper wet lips. "Make me sing."

 Letting go of his right wrist she brought her hand to sit just above her pubic bone, spreading her fingers into a fan she slide them down her flesh. Dividing the slick folds of her vagina with two of her fingers, she stroked her engrossed clit with a few flicks of her fingers. Her nerve ending splintered as the raw need to be fulfilled spread through her body. Keeping her folds open, she looked downwards as she lowered herself just a few millimetres above his now open mouth.

"Taste me," Buffy whispered to the man lying beneath her. "Savour me Spike."

Spike lifted his head to meet her open folds of flesh, for just a second he was lost in her seeping wet vulva. Orientating himself to what he was doing, he knew how much pressure to apply and where each of her sensitive spots where.  He wanted to make her come so fast that she wouldn't know it hit her until it was over. Flicking his tongue along her crease, he made his way to her clit, repetitively darting the rough flesh along her sensitive nub. Sending wave after wave of pleasure cascading through her body, her flesh felt like it was burning under the intensifying pressure.  Buffy began rocking her body softly in time with the licks of his tongue, backwards and forwards she gyrated her hips. He ached to grasp her hips in his hands to guide her momentum and feel her muscles caress his fingers as he stroked her inner walls with his fingertips. Spike would just have to make do with what she would allow him, even though she denied what he really wanted. To touch her.

"Do you tongue fuck as well as you lick Spike?" Buffy lifted her self slightly forward and held herself still. Looking down at him still blindfolded, she could do anything she wanted to him and she doubted that he would protest. He had yet to realise that this was her game and while she was playing it, she was going to get some dammed pleasure from the exercise. "Care to give me a preview of how you really want to do me Spikey?" He could feel her breath on his face as she leant down to whisper it in his ear. "How I'm gonna use that hard cock inside of me?"

Spike immediately slide his tongue into the depths of her pussy, he pushed his face in as deep as he could. He slowly began sliding the coarsen flesh of his tongue along her inner walls. At times stopping to flick his tongue upwards or downwards to stroke every inch he could of her. Moisture seemed to inundate the carven he licked, his taste buds fired with the divine taste that was uniquely her. He could feel her need for him deepen and flourish as her muscles began to clench and tightened against his tongue. She once again began stroking herself in a desperate need to come, driven on by the tantalising fever that he was creating with the way he curled his tongue against her walls.  She looked down suddenly as he pulled away just before she found release, removing his tongue and the delicious pressure it was giving her. Denying her path to fulfilment.

"Let me go Buffy," Spike spoke gently to her as he pulled against the silk strips that held him to the bed. "Let me pleasure you with all my body. Let me see your pleasure Buffy. I need to see…"

"NO," pierced through the room shattering any hope he had that she might let him go and become an active member in their pleasure. Scared that she might be losing control as she fought against better reasoning of letting him go, she spoke to him in now hushed tones.  "I want to be fucked Spike. I want to feel your hard long cock inside me and nothing else. I just want to fuck you and I want to do it my way."

"Anything you want sweetheart," hearing her words he reluctantly relented to her demands, it was better than her up and leaving him. She was finally back where she belonged, with him and in his bed. "I'll do anything to show how much I want you."

She lifted her body away from his form and now sat on her knees on the empty side of the bed just beside his torso. Leaning over him, she traced his lips with her fingertips, slipping one in he immediately began to suckle the finger. Feeling an immediate undulation of pleasure come from her hand, as it flowed and rippled over her breasts to her clit.  It made her hold her breath as she let the bliss flow through her, wanting to feel more she grasped her breasts in her hands. Pulling on the engrossed flesh, she tugged at her nipples as she positioned herself once again over his face. Cupping one of her breasts in her hand, she offered it to his mouth so that he could suckle and pay homage to her aching flesh.

"Suckle me," Buffy pleaded with him. "Suck it."

Spike opened his mouth onto her burning flesh as he immediately began strongly sucking on the puckering flesh. His tongue swirled around the engrossed nipple, in slow strokes encircling the tight bud as he teased her flesh. Sensing her heightening pleasure he gently bit the nipple as he sucked on the flesh like a straw, creating delicious alternating strengths of suction. With her other free hand she slid it down between her legs to try and relieve some of the frustrating pressure building up again in her clit. Whether he was stroking her nipple or swirling his tongue around it, she copied his rhythm as she pleasure herself. If he encircled her nipple, she circled her clit and if he stroked her nipple with his tongue, she would flick her clit with her fingers.

"Oh fuck," Buffy felt herself begin to tetter over the edge again towards orgasm. She probably would have been happy with coming there and then.  Yet the idea of letting herself come and deny him the same pleasure, seemed to have the element of justice she was trying to extract from him. Yet why spoil a great fuck?  Pulling herself abruptly away from him, a loud  'pop' filled the room as his mouth broke away from her breast. She sat back onto her haunches as she looked at him from fingertips to toes, and each silk strip that held him to the bed.

"Does my girl want me to taste her other pretty breast?" Spike crooned at her, now convinced that she was here to make amends between the two of them. Why else would she have come seek him out in the middle of the night and be back in his bed? Expect to make things better. She was his girl. Without an answer he titled his head towards he hoped was her head, "Luv please."

"Please what Spike?"

"What ever you want." Spike was now pleading to be able to touch something of her. "Tell me what you want?" he whispered to her as he ached to have his mouth on her.

Feeling her nerve endings on fire and an immediate need to come she decide that she wanted to feel the hard flesh of his ridged cock slid inside her. The hard velvety feel of the long length penetrating deep into her depths, like no man she'd ever been with before could. Placing a hand on his abdomen she traced his six-pack again like she had before, and then down the light track of hair that began just below his navel to the base of his cock.

She encompassed the base of his ridged length with her fingers, gently applying pressure to the shaft. Buffy didn't miss the sudden intake of air as she moved up the veiny flesh, grazing its rough skin with her nails. Running her thumb around the head of the shaft once she reached it, she spread the drop of dew she found on it around it's circumference as she teased the flesh. Spike lifted his hips of the ground as she began stroking his cock with her hand with slow forceful movements. Unable to bear being a passive participant he decided that it was time to join in fully in this sensual dance, he wanted to give and receive everything that she had to offer.

With a sudden jolt of his body that surprised even Buffy, he gripped onto the bedhead where the silk strips held him down and lifted his feet so that his heels dug into the mattress. With a heave of his body, he pulled himself into a siting position against the headboard. His back against the frame of the cast iron bed, his hands resting on the mattress with his legs spread out flat on the bed. Buffy had to pull herself back quickly as he repositioned himself on the bed. He almost smacked his head into hers on the way up to where he sat now. Leaving her to find her balance within his change of tactics, she gripped onto the sheet below her as anchorage so that she wouldn't fall of the bed.

"Buffy," Spike voice was filled with sexual frustration and seething with need. "Remove the blindfold," his tone became stern and commanding, "I want to watch you as you ride me."

"No," Buffy could feel her resolve begin to waiver as he barked out his orders laced with desire and need. "No, I'm….I'm…"

"Buffy, undo the blindfold NOW."

Something inside her snapped as he told her to undo the blindfold, the need to show him just what a "fuck" was vanished. Her mind and spirit called out in hurt and anger as her hands shakily did his bidding. Her insides crumpled as her true feelings erupted. She cared so much, needed him…too much. She was lost within the physical needs of her body to think about the emotional damage she was doing to herself. Buffy quickly snapped out of her thoughts as she pulled the blindfold away from his eyes. Her resolve to see this game through shattered as she gave herself over to the hedonistic physical gratification of her body. All previous intentions of teaching him that lesson faded into the background; the only thing that mattered was the pleasure…

Blue eyes pierced through her defences as he bore his gaze down onto her body. He caught her gaze and locked it within his own; each reflected the other in their own iris.  Licking his lips at the sight of her aroused body, the light red marks that appeared on her breasts marked his territory and as well as the slight moisture that ran down her leg. Tilting his head, he curled his tongue along his palate as he contemplated his next move. One thing was for sure he wanted to feel her on his cock, her breasts heaving against his chest as she grounded herself against him. To feel her lips devouring his as their tongue battled against each other.

"Are you wet for me luv?" Spike stared at the soft curls that covered her pussy. "Slip a finger in and show me how wet you are for me." Buffy silently and against all self will did as he asked, pulling out a moist finger after she touched herself. "Let me taste you again," she slipped the finger inside his mouth and withdrew her finger slowly as he sucked nosily on it. "Straddle me," he slightly pulled his still tied together feet upwards.
Buffy held onto his shoulders as she slipped over his hips, and settled herself onto his thighs. Not being able to look at him, he bent his head awkwardly to try and catch her attention. "Fill yourself with me."

Swallowing hard, Buffy looked down at his straining cock against his abdomen, grasping it in one hand she lifted herself up and slide herself slowly down his ridged length. Buffy stopped just as the head of his cock scratched her sweet spot,  she dug her nails onto his shoulders as she took deep breathes to try to control her cravings. Swaying her hips in a circular motion, she caused the rimmed head of his hardened flesh to tease and taunt her. Flooding her body with such strong want and consuming passion that it burnt and sizzled around them. The pressure that this was putting on his cock, gave Spike such untold pleasure that he felt like he would explode with bliss any second. As she shallowly rode him, he felt the need to have all of himself planted deep within her depths. To have every inch of his aching cock surrounded by her moist, tight pussy as it clenched and stretched around him.

"Deeper Buffy," Spike spoke through gritted teeth. "I want to feel every inch of my cock covered by your wetness."

Buffy slid herself down all his long length, so slowly that it was intense agony for him. He wished now that his hands were free so that he could slam her down onto the entire length of his cock. He ached to touch her, but the buzz of being tied to the bed and somewhat at her mercy gave him an extra high to the sexual experience. Spike also wanted her to look at him, but she refused to look at him whilst she moved upon him. No matter how he angled his face, or tried to catch her attention she refused to look at him. Spike for an instance could have sworn that he saw deep regret deep in her veiled eyes.

"Look at me sweetness," he gently asked her, "Watch us."

Buffy shook her head as she closed her eyes tightly and shivered against his frame as she moved her body up and down him. She leaned her torso closer against his chest and encircled her arms around his neck, hiding her face deep in the depth of his neck.  She closed her mind to everything except what she was doing, she couldn't think of the man underneath her. Buffy could only centre her mind on the delicious feeling of ecstasy she was experiencing as she rode his cock. Every nerve ending that was exposed to the ridged hard length, came ablaze with cataclysmic delight that swelled throughout every inch of her body.

As she clutched onto his neck with such forceful strength, she used it to her advantage as she leaved herself against him. Moving herself up and down with either a strong fast rhythm or devastatingly slow strokes on his cock. Ultimately, she controlled the angle and depth of his penetration and the amount of pleasure he could experience. She concentrated totally on her own body's experiences as she continued to ride him as if only she existed. Repeatedly she slammed herself against his body; one thing she couldn't block out was the slap of flesh as their two bodies collided. Or his shallow sharp intakes of breath and his low moans as she rode him.

Buffy could feel her orgasm begin to swell and swirl around her insides, her pussy muscles begin to contract against the ridges flesh that it caressed. Hammering herself down on him as far as she could she began to grind her thighs against his hips. She angled her body for the maximum exposure of his cock to her inner walls and her clit against his pelvic bone. Triggering nerves to fire and cascade bolts of pleasure in and around her abdomen, making her shudder repeatedly against him. For a single second she looked down at where their two bodies joined, lost within her pleasure it was enough to send her into the abyss of orgasm.

Spike pushed his hips up as he felt her internal muscles milk and squeezed his cock; he needed to fill her as much as he could. He trembled against her as his overwhelming need to come himself enveloped him. He watched her face as the sheer elation she was experiencing spread across her face, he just wanted her to look at him and see what she was doing for him. Yet he didn't want to blow any opportunity she gave him to make up everything to her. If this is how she wanted to make love tonight than he would let her, but only tonight. Next time he would set things right. Hearing her quick pants indicated that she was about to come, and he wanted to be there with her as she came.

Feeling her body convulse indicating that she was on the verge of coming, he held himself back for a moment. Seconds later she grabbed his neck again as she free falled into her release, holding herself upright as she came. Spike immediately let himself come, filling her.  She instantly stiffened and jerked herself back. Now she look at his eyes as he glared at her, filled with desire and laden with need, she couldn't miss how they flickered with passion. After a few final shudders of his body against her own, she pulled herself off him and sat silently on the side of the bed. Standing up she grasped the sheet from the floor and put it around herself.

Spike watched her thinking, he couldn't believe his luck when he heard her voice and smelt her perfume. She'd come back to him after that fateful day that karma had been so cruel to them. He still could feel the hurt in his gut as she'd accused him of  thinking of her as nothing but a fuck. To be honest he couldn't have really blamed her after he'd had time to reflect on what had happened between them. All they had done was fuck, nothing more and nothing less with an all-consuming passion.
That's why he'd stayed away from work, to give them space and to think about how he could mend the damage and start again. The right way, but here she was larger than life and better than any wet dream he'd had whilst she was away.

"Buffy," Spike gasped between shallow intakes of breath, "was so good. Missed my girl so much."

"I'm not you're girl!" Buffy grabbed her panties and put them back on. "I came for a fuck and that's what I got."

"Buffy? What?" Spike looked at her with fear and trepidation. "Buffy please?"

"Well Spike as you once said 'it's' been a fun fuck! We must do it again sometime'," Buffy put on her bra, pants and shirt. "I've missed your lovely big dick Spike."

"BUFFY LET ME GO!" Spike roared.

"No Spike," Buffy's face broke out in an evil grin. "I'll make sure that you get rescued. Might be your luck that they might be gorgeous female cops."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Spike tried to remain calm and rationale. "Buffy untie me, now!"

"Sorry Spikey can't do that," Buffy replied shaking her little finger at him. "I'm sure 911 will be able to help." With that, Buffy grabbed a sock that lay on the floor and covered his cock with it. "Have to make you presentable and keep 'little Spike' warm."

"BUFFY LET ME GO!!!"

Buffy walked over to the side table and picked up the receiver and dialled 911, waiting for the telephonist to answer she dropped the phone in his waist. When she heard the 'hello, what is your emergency', she blew a kiss to an irate Spike as she walked out the door and down the corridor. Before she shut the front door, she heard one last final call from her tied up ex-lover.

"BUFFY!"

PULSE 9

By Mercy

NC-17

A/N Thanks to Kar, Meli and slackerace for editing and being my sounding boards. Thanks for the time and effort I know it takes to do beta-ing. Thanks!

Ataxia
(a lack of muscular coordination, lack of precision)


Buffy sat frozen in her car with the door open, unable to move as she heard Spike call out her name once again. It resonated through out her being, shattering her from deep within. Shame flooded into her consciousness, and she became disgusted with herself for what she’d just done to another human being. Her plan to make him feel her hurt backfired in her own face. Her stomach revolted at what she had just done, the bile rising up to her throat and threatening to erupt. She began to shiver and shake with indignity at her treatment of Spike. What in hell’s name had she been thinking when she’d left him tied to the bed and called 911?

Buffy had sunk into darkened depths of herself -- a part that she’d never seen before -- an ominous and desperate side that scared her. Something sinister and malevolent had been born in the last few moments of the ‘game.’ Spike’s ability to dominate her had caused something inside of her to become unleashed and it wanted to humiliate him. She could be assured that he’d never forget what she’d done to him. Looking at the house and the window that was still open; she closed her eyes and quickly turned in her seat and leaned her head out of the car door as the bile made its way from her stomach onto the road.

Wiping her mouth and swallowing back the last of the bile, she could hear the sirens in the distance. Quickly grabbing the cold metal shell of the car door, she heaved herself onto the curb of the street. Buffy struggled to take each step, one foot in front of the other. It felt like an eternity as she made her way back towards the house. With an unsteady grip, she found the door still unlocked, and was able to open it after a few pitiful attempts. The shrill of the sirens grew louder as they came closer, the noise blaring into Buffy’s ears; and, her eyes caught the glow of the blue and red flashing lights.

Quickening her pace, she closed the door behind her and headed towards the kitchen. Opening up one of the drawers, she removed a small, sharp chef’s knife and proceeded to bolt up the staircase towards the room in which she had left Spike. Feeling even more sickened with herself, she opened the door to find him struggling desperately with the bonds with which she tied him to the bed. Hearing the door open, Spike turned his head towards the intruder and stopped dead in his attempt to free himself. The look in his eyes said it all; they were filled with anger, disgust and disbelief.

Breaking eye contact with him, Buffy moved towards the end of the bed, slicing the silk that bound Spike’s feet. In rapid succession, she cut the rest of the silk strips away from the headboard, freeing him from the cast iron rods that made up the bed frame. Putting the knife down on the bedside table, she turned away from the travesty that she had created and walked towards the window. Behind her, Spike rubbed his wrists and ankles with his hands, trying to encourage blood flow into the now painful joints. He couldn’t look at her, not without wanting to grab her and shake her senseless for what she’d done to him. Rage gripped him and made him want to punish her here and now.

Spike opened his mouth to say something to her, but words just couldn’t come. He was just too disappointed at her for doing this to him. Hurt flared in between the feelings of anger and loathing gripping at his very soul. However, it would have to wait; he could hear the loud banging at the front door, and then “open up, police.” Grabbing a pair of jeans that lay on the floor, he sat on the side of the bed as he hitched them up. Standing up, he zipped himself up and began to walk out of the room without a backwards glance. Before he took a step outside of the room, he hesitated and stopped for just a brief moment.

“Don’t even think of leaving. You go and I swear to God I’ll hunt you down,” Spike whispered with a quiet desperation and authority that Buffy wouldn’t dare challenge.

She heard the loud thumps of his bare feet against the wood of the staircase as he descended the steps. She could hear the swinging of the hinges as he opened the front door and the faint murmurs of a conversation between two men. After a few moments, the sound of multiple footsteps could be heard as they ascended the stairs, and the door to the room in which she stood opened fully; however, Buffy’s back was to the door. A stifled laughter filled the room from someone behind her, which finally made her turn around. A male and female officer stood behind Spike, looking curiously at the cut strips of silk that lay on and around the bed. The male officer had a sniggering look on his face and a leering gaze that perused up and down Buffy’s body. In contrast, the female officer was turning bright red in the face, and quickly diverted her gaze from the bed and onto the hunched woman standing by the window.

“Are you alright Miss?” she asked as she elbowed the male officer. As Buffy could only nod, the officer continued her questions. The question was rephrased. “Are you hurt?” followed by another shake of Buffy’s head.

“His not hurting you is he?” The male police officer continued to probe Buffy for a reaction.

In response, Buffy’s gaze flickered and faltered as she spoke with a quiet and just audible voice. She replied with a simple “no”. For just a few seconds, her eyes locked with Spike’s. With that, she swiftly broke all contact with him and turned back to staring out the window, despite the fact that she saw nothing of the view outside. Not even the brightly flashing red and blue lights of the police car caught her eyes. Behind her, she could feel a hand touch her arm; looking down at it, she saw the small hand of the female officer grasp her upper arm.

In a quiet whisper that only she could have heard, she asked her questions again. “He’s not forcing you to do this, is he? Is that why you called us?”

“No he’s not forcing me to do anything and he hasn’t hurt me,” she spat out as she violently pulled away. “I hurt him.” Buffy quickly made her way over to Spike and pulled up his wrist to show the wounds. “See, I hurt him. I forced him to do this…Me…not him.” Finally she couldn’t hold it in anymore she stumbled towards the bed, sitting on the edge with her arms wrapped around herself as she rocked; the tears beginning to silently pour down her face.

Shocked and stunned by Buffy’s admission, the female officer backed herself towards her co-worker. She pulled him out of the room and towards the staircase, indicating to Spike that he should come with them. Looking back at Buffy, Spike shook his head as he walked out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He motioned for the police officers to follow him down the staircase to the landing below, where he stopped.

“I’m sorry to waste your time but this is a false alarm.” Spike spoke in a soft tone of voice, not wanting Buffy to hear what he was saying. “Things got out of hand and I panicked.” He rubbed his head, his eyes cast to the ground. “We were…um…”

“We don’t like our time wasted, mister…” the female officer paused as she pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket and flipped through it until she found the right page. “…Mr. Devine. You can’t call us every time you and your missus decide to play kinky games.”

“Officer, like I said, I’m sorry that I called and wasted your time.” Spike’s facial muscles tightened as he tried to contain his emotions. “I thought my girl had left me high and dry, so I panicked. But she was here all along. I got the wrong end of the stick and I fucked –sorry officer –I screwed up.”

“We could arrest you for filing a false report you know.” The female officer continued, “Not only that but…”

“But we won’t, Mr. Devine.” The male officer looked over at his partner and raised his hand for her to stop talking. “This time we won’t. You call us again and I’ll personally book you and put you into the holding cell.” He looked up the staircase and then back at Spike. “Both of you.”

“Like I said, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” Spike tried to smile at the police officers. “I appreciate it.”

“Okay. Let’s go back to the station and let this gentleman get on with whatever he was doing.”

The female officer looked a little angry at her partner, but nodded her head in agreement and made her way to the front door. Opening it, she let herself out and took the stairs down to the pathway and back to the patrol car. Spike waited for her to get far enough out of hearing range before he finally spoke. Turning towards the male officer, he let out a large sigh.

“Thanks mate,” Spike spoke with a whisper. “I owe you one.”

“No you owe me a lot Spike,” the officer shook his head. “Well maybe a little, but I’d say we’re even now. You get your ‘out of jail free’ card Spike, but just this once.”

“Yeah,” Spike nodded. “How’s your wife?”

“Fine, getting out of the house more than usual,” he bent closer towards Spike. “We both couldn’t thank all of you guys on the ward enough. You are lucky it was me here today Spike, and not someone else. Can I suggest that you have a talk with your girlfriend about not taking your little games so far next time? Because it might not be me banging on your door.”

“Yeah I think we have a lot to talk about mate.” Spike averted his gaze. “A lot.”

“You sure that everything’s alright?”

“Yes,” Spike’s tone became insistent. “You’d better go before your partner gets the wrong idea about us and thinks that you might want to join in with our fun.” He tried to find some humour in the situation.

“Humphh.” The male officer turned himself around and walked out the door, saluting Spike before shutting the door behind him. The front door shut with a resonating bang throughout the now quiet house.

Spike stood alone in the foyer of his house, feeling like he’d just escaped a fate worse than death. Police were notorious for telling ‘tales’ to E.R. staff about finding people in compromising positions. He couldn’t even grasp at the repercussions that it might have had on his work if word had ever gotten out. Spike could only hope that he would never run into the female officer at work or in the E.R. Luckily enough, he’d looked after the wife of the attending male officer a few weeks prior. He’d been a decent and grateful bloke, and Spike could be assured of the man keeping his silence. It still didn’t lessen the anger and hurt that continued to rage beneath the surface of his skin.

Spike took a moment to bury his pride and swirling anger into the innermost depths of himself before going back upstairs to confront Buffy. He let himself become numb as he took the first step towards the stairs and up to the master bedroom.


~~**~~


He found her where he’d left her, sitting on the edge of the bed staring into the abyss of nothing. He walked into the room and grabbed a t-shirt that sat on a dresser near the door, pulling it down over his body as quickly as he could. He took a few steps closer towards her. He hadn’t missed the slight shaking of her frame, the translucent paleness of her skin, or the aloof manner she’d steeled herself with from the outside world. Buffy had well and truly deeply humiliated and offended him; he just couldn’t get his head around what the fuck she was thinking about tonight.

If the objective in her games had been to degrade and piss him off, then she’d done a right royal job of it. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say for herself, he wasn’t going to let her get away with what she’d done to him tonight. No matter what the reason. She had a lot to answer for and he wanted to understand her bloody logic.

He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“So Buffy, do we talk here or downstairs?” Spike asked her. “Or would you like a turn at being tied up and humiliated?”

Buffy flinched at his words as they penetrated through the haze that she’d surrounded her consciousness with. His words scored her being; a cold chill passed through her body as she tried to concentrate on the here and now. She found that she just couldn’t bring herself to focus on him. Dragging her feet in a circular movement, she faced him.

“No,” her voice a whisper passing through him.

“Why not? You’ve done a fantastic job so far.”

“I’m sorry….” she murmured.

“What did you say?” Spike spat out, “you’re sorry?”

“Yes,” Buffy turned her head slightly but stared at his feet unable to look at him. “I said I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough, Buffy.”

“I know.” Tears threatened to fall down as her eyes welled with moisture and her voiced filled with sickening shame. “I know it’s not good enough.”

“You think that sorry is going to cover the…the bloody damage you’ve done?” Spike walked closer towards her, honing in on his target.

“I didn’t…” Buffy’s words refused to come out of her mouth as she became more confused and disorientated. In her whirling thoughts, she tried to comprehend the terrible act where she’d demeaned him so much. She just couldn’t find the words to make anything better because there weren’t any that would make what she had done go away.

“Didn’t mean to do it? Didn’t mean to humiliate and defile me Buffy?” His eyes closed as he let the last few moments of having to talk to the officers flow through him. His gut tightened as the need to lash out at her gripped him; the instinct to retaliate strengthened and exuded deep within him. “You know what, love, you should give lessons.”

“No!” Buffy finally looked at Spike and couldn’t miss the conflict going on inside him stream across his face. His cheek muscles pulled tightly against the prominent bone, the skin hollowing out just below it as he tried to control his breathing. Resentment seeped out from every pore and she felt the atmosphere around them become blunted and rigid. Her voice became cracked and louder as she denied the truth. “No.”

Spike abruptly moved forward and grabbed her around the shoulders, looking for some kind of answer within her vacant gaze. “How Buffy? Just tell me how you could do this to me? What the fuck did I do to deserve this shit from you?”

“I was angry,” Buffy yelled at him. “I wanted you to know how I felt! I wanted you to feel everything that I was feeling!!”

“What, humiliated and used? When have I ever done that to you Buffy? When?”

“Used Spike. Used,” Buffy blurted out. “Every time we were together all I felt like was something that you had sex with. Just a convenient body to fuck.”

“How did you come to that bloody conclusion Buffy?” Spike gritted his teeth; he’d been accused of many things in his life but never using a woman as a convenient fuck.

“Every single time we were together, all we ever did was have sex or you were always trying to get into my pants.”

“Being attracted to you is a crime, Buffy?” Spike still felt confused by her words. “Wanting to be as close to you as I can is wrong? Needing to feel you wrapped around me is using you?”

“You don’t get me, do you?!” Buffy closed her eyes for a second; she had to make it clear to him. Try and make him understand what drove her to do what she’d done tonight then maybe he could…what? Forgive her? She grimaced at the thought as it occurred to her that he may never forgive her for her malicious act. “We never went anywhere except the bedroom, or somewhere in the dark to fuck. You always kept me in the shadows, never out in the real world.”

“That still doesn’t explain what you’ve done to me Buffy. Not by a long shot.” Spike tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I need to get into that pretty little head of yours and see what’s fucked it up so bad that you’ve lowered yourself to this level, love.”

“Don’t call me that.” Buffy cringed at his words.

“What? Love? Why not, Buffy? That’s what you are to me. My lover. Or should I say you were my lover.” Spike pursed his lips together in a malevolent smile. “So for not taking you ‘out in public’, and may I remind you those were your words, I deserved what you did to me tonight?”

“I was hurting Spike, and I wanted to hurt you. Make you understand what it felt like to hurt like me. Feel used like me. You have no idea how sorry I am that it went as far as it did. It wasn’t meant to go like that. My plan was to simply come in, fuck you senseless, and walk away.” Buffy began to tremble as she quietly tried to explain. “I called 911 because…”

“Can’t explain that one away. It was cruel and degrading what you did to me,” Spike sputtered. “I could have handled the fuck and flee, but calling the police takes the cake.”

“How many times can I say I’m sorry?”

“Not enough Buffy. Not even a lifetime of apologies could wipe away the damage you’ve done.” Spike let go of her with a slight push. “Not to mention trying to explain the situation to the cops. Can you imagine what would have happened if this got around work? Try explaining our little game to my boss. That would’ve ended with my reputation destroyed and I’d probably get the sack.”

“Oh my God! I didn’t think.…” Buffy tried not to let the tears flow as she considered the consequences of her actions.

“No Buffy, you never seem to really think anything through.” Spike ran his hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip on himself and try to get some resolve on the situation. “Luckily one of the cops is a friend of mine and he’ll keep his mouth shut. I was lucky Buffy, with no thanks to you.”

“But I came back.” Buffy tried to find something to hold onto as she stumbled backwards towards the wall. “I came back.”

“Would have made no difference, except that it meant they didn’t have to untie me from the bed.” Spike sat down on the bed behind him. “I need to get this straight in my head Buffy. You did this to me because you wanted me to feel like a piece of meat? To feel the same way as you? Make me feel like all I was good for was a quick fuck and that was all?”

“Ye…yes,”

“Even though I never did one thing that you didn’t want me to do to you?” Spike stared straight into her eyes. “You knew who and what I was when we started this Buffy. I never promised you pre-fuck entertainment.”

“Do you have to be so crude?”

“Why not? You’ve lowered yourself and treated me like dirt.” Spike’s eyes appeared to turn a deeper shade of blue. “Dirt that you didn’t seem to mind rolling around in and getting yourself dirty with. Made you scream enough times.”

“Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Tears began to roll down Buffy’s face; lines of dew crisscrossing her cheeks. “What do I have to do to make you understand?”

“I understand very well, Buffy. You achieved what you set out to prove.” Spike didn’t let her tears affect him. “I feel used and humiliated. Mission accomplished. You win.”

“But?”

“But what, Buffy? You’re sorry. I hear you loud and clear.” Spike lowered his eyes to the floor. “But I don’t care. You could have tried to tell me how you felt, Buffy. Could have told me a week ago when I turned up at your apartment after the fight we had. Made me understand, but you didn’t want to talk; you said that you just couldn’t. Or was it that you just wouldn’t? Instead, you slammed the door in my face and just shut me out after I begged you not to. So I suppose it’s time I return the favour.”

“I don’t understand.” Buffy wiped her eyes as the tears continued to fall. She should have let him in the night he came to her door. She had slammed it in his face because she just hadn’t been strong enough to face him. Not strong enough to show her vulnerability to him. Instead she initiated this rampage of humiliation and deprivation. A chill went through her spine as she compared the two extremes of her behaviour. She should have let him in, but should-haves wouldn’t clean up this mess that lay in front of her. Buffy doubted that anything ever would. “What do you mean return the favour.”

“It’s simple.” Spike stood up and walked to the door. “Get out of my house.”

With what little dignity she had left, which was close to nothing, Buffy swallowed hard and walked slowly towards the bedroom door. Not being able to look directly at Spike, she walked past the stiff and hardened frame of his body and could feel the icy chill that diffused from him and into the air around him. Buffy took each step as quickly as she could down the stairs and out the front door, swinging the heavy door closed, shutting herself out of the house.

Buffy stopped where she stood on the porch as the gust of wind from the front door closing blew along her back. She leaned against the cold wood panelling, not being able to move any further. It had taken all her internal strength to get this far. Her heart beat so strongly that she could feel it pound in her chest and resonate in her eardrum. Her head felt like it was going to explode as the pain burst along the back of her skull. Every cell in her body exuded with anguish, desolation and tormenting remorse until it could stand no more.

Her body just couldn’t cope with the emotional and mental anguish that she was experiencing. The pain in her skull amplified as the enormity of what she’d done really began to punch its way along her neurons. Her mind dealt with it the only way that it could. It shut itself down. Embracing the empty void that the darkness offered, Buffy denied all reality around her and accepted the release that the void offered. The hard thump of her body hitting the porch’s wooden boards echoed throughout the house.

Spike sat on the bottom of the landing of the stairs, his hands covering his face as he tried to regain some composure. Pressure pounded and bore down behind his closed eyes as his mind screamed in relentless pulsations of disbelief and abhorrence at what had just passed between them. After Buffy had accused him the first time of just ‘using her for a fuck,’ he knew he’d been a total git in the way he’d reacted to her. Obviously he held a stupid notion that she’d known the way he felt about her when they were together. He could have sworn to himself that he felt it when he was inside her. Feeling her come around his cock, in the catch of her voice when she climaxed. Evidently he was wrong.

He seemed to be wrong about a lot of things. He should have listened more closely to her and not taken advantage of their mutual attraction. He couldn’t deny that in the beginning they were just a convenient fuck to each other; the first encounter in the alley most certainly was. Their second time was instigated by him because he was angry with her denying being part of her pleasure their first time. Yet something had changed over the last few weeks and months. Maybe it had been only in his imagination, but he could have sworn that she was beginning to care for him. Deeply care. Maybe…

The noise of something hitting the porch outside broke him from his thoughts. He quickly stood up and walked to the door. Opening it up, he was confronted with Buffy lying on the wooden floor at the edge near the stairs. His immediate thoughts were visions of her falling down the stairs and breaking her skull. Running down beside her, he sat on his haunches as he checked her breathing and pulse. Finding both, he ran his hand down her limbs to find any broken bones. Once satisfied that she did not have any, Spike could only surmise that she’d collapsed from all the strain.

Slowly he gathered her up close to his body and carefully lifted her up from the floor. Walking back into the house, he slammed the front door closed with the back of his foot and walked back up the stairs to the guest room. Laying Buffy down on the bed, he watched as she continued to breathe evenly and deeply, but her face was still strained with all the tainted emotions that ran through her mind. Spike tried to imagine -- despite what she’d done to him -- how she must be feeling now. He had not missed the look of self-loathing and disgust she’d had on her face when she left. He didn’t feel any sympathy for her, he was just too disgusted with her. That didn’t mean that he could just ignore the unconscious woman on the porch. He might be hurt and angry but he was still a man of principle and always willing to help anyone anytime he could.

Even a girl who meant so much to him and had betrayed him so profoundly.

“Don’t think that this ‘faint’ will score you points with me Summers.”
 

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