Chapter Ten ~ Good Vibrations
“ I love the colorful clothes she wears, and the way the sunlight plays upon her hair.
I hear the sound of a gentle word, on the wind that lifts her perfume through the air.
I’m picking up good vibrations. She’s givin’ me excitations –
Good, good, good - Good Vibrations…”
~ The Beach Boys
Spike sauntered casually through the warrens of “the Underground Railroad”, as he had come to somewhat affectionately call the vast network of sewer and electrical tunnels that ran literally everywhere beneath the city.
You’d think someone had a bloody plan or something…
He thought with a smirk. He was feeling cocky today, chock full of swagger. It must be that gorgeous dream. If he concentrated he could almost smell the scent of her sweet, wet…Oh, better watch it. Anymore of that and he’d be hard again. It wouldn’t do to stroll into a Scooby meeting with a sodding great stiffy now would it?
“ Yes, hello all. Don’t mind my 10-inch erection now. Just go on about your business.”
He chuckled, imagining the scene. He wouldn’t mind scandalizing the women really. But the whelp already gave him the eye overmuch as it is. That boy would do well to just come out and get it over with. Spike snickered maliciously; he’d have to remember to use that one on Harris later on.
Today was gonna be great, he could just tell.
He’d had a brilliant patrol with Buffy – a revealing patrol really. The scent of her arousal had told him everything he needed to know. He smiled broadly, remembering. Then there was that fantastic bloody dream: the shag of a lifetime with the Slayer. It quadrupled his high from the night before, made him feel like just anything was possible. Whatever he wanted was right within his reach. Oh, he knew not to get too cocky where the Slayer was concerned – ‘cause look how that always turned out (usually with him gettin’ a solid ass kicking.) But still, he felt she was warming up to him now, and it was all just a matter of time.
Wonder what hot little ensemble she’ll be wearin’ tonight?
He thought, lighting up a smoke. You had to appreciate a girl who fought in miniskirts, leather pants and halter-tops. Not to mention those sassy little boots. Nothing like a roundhouse done in heels. No wonder he loved her. She even made turtlenecks look sexy, the way she wore them – all tight, huggin’ every curve of her lithe little body. Spike sighed, deeply lustful. Any more thoughts like that and he’d have to hit wank number two for the morning. Not that it was a bad idea if he was gonna be dealing with Buffy tonight. Just the scent of her was enough to get him going, and when she touched him- even casually, it never failed to make him hard. Many’s the night he’d had to come straight home and ‘relieve the tension’ after patrolling. And the silly chit had no idea the effect she had on him. He thought this might just be a blessing – at least for now, look how crazy she’d gotten last night at just the mention of any feelings for him. He paused, pondering this. His eyes went wide with comprehension.
Bollocks, last night! She was in a right tizzy wasn’t she?
He’d forgotten about that – Buffy was seriously brassed off when she left. Spike felt his good mood begin to flag. Odds were, she was now harboring a grudge. Shite! Why couldn’t he ever learn to keep his buggerin’ mouth shut? Now he had an angry slayer on his hands, when all he really wanted was a hot one. Hot for him preferably – but he’d take what he could get. But wait…that’s right- she was hot last night wasn’t she? And for him as well. Well, then, that was a bit of alright. He started walking again, taking a deep drag. Maybe she wasn’t as upset as she seemed. She was just covering, and when she realized that she really wanted him she’d come around wouldn’t she? Yeah, she’d come around –
“And stake me right through the bloody heart.”
He stopped dead in his tracks. What in buggering Hell had he been thinking? Oh yes, his dick had been hard…
Well that answers that question. No thinking involved.
Dream or no dream Buffy was never going to let herself get involved with him. She outwardly detested him – told him he was beneath her how many times now? And at least part of her actually believed that. She’d bought into Angel’s whole shtick about souls and nobility, and broody blabbity bullshite.
“Sodding Great Poof.”
He shook his head frowning, then threw his cigarette to the ground. He began pacing back and forth in the confines of the tunnel. And now she thought he couldn’t be any more than he was, and she would believe that he couldn’t love her. And she definitely didn’t believe that she could love him – she barely admitted to liking him. So could she stake him? Work herself into a big enough snit over her feelings and his feelings and …oh yeah, she could definitely stake him.
“Fuck.”
What in the hell am I gonna do now?
Spike was not at all prepared for the sensation that abruptly accosted him. He caught his breath as an erotic shiver wracked his body. His cock hardened instantly. It was as if the full force of his dream hit him all at once. My God – he could almost smell her, feel her, taste her…
“Christ! What the fuck was that?”
Whatever it was, it was bloody marvelous. His skin felt alive with sensation - the silk of his shirt, the rub of his jeans against his bare skin, the leather of his coat against his neck. And he could feel the blood pulsing into his prick like never before. The thing was like a dowsing rod and it was pointing straight at Buffy. Just the thought of her was driving him mad. He was half tempted to have a toss in the tunnel right now he was so aroused. But he was already running late.
“Sod it all.”
He cursed ruefully. There was no way he was gonna miss an opportunity to spend time with Buffy. Especially when he’d have a chance to be useful to her. He stared down at the bulge in his pants.
“ Sorry, Mate – yer just gonna have to wait.”
Vowing to behave himself he made his way to the Magic Box, his penis helpfully pointing the way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike entered the basement of the shop cautiously. Listening intently for any indication of an irritable Buffy. Last thing he wanted to come face to face with was a grudge-bearing slayer. His desire to see her, even a glimpse of her was too strong to keep him away though. That delicious feeling had propelled him here, almost of its own volition. And now that he was near her, the sound of her voice, the tickle of her scent in his nose called to him. He could no more leave without seeing her, than he could dance naked in the sunshine.
He paused at the foot of the stairs listening. Ah, laughter. That’s good. She probably wouldn’t stake him then. Spike slipped quietly through the back door that concealed the stairs and strolled in with feigned indifference. He purposefully did not look at Buffy. Best to play it cool, act nonchalant. She didn’t seem to register his presence in any threatening way, just kept chatting with her friends. He leaned back against the counter adopting a casual stance and shuffled in his pocket for a smoke. Expertly whipping his Zippo open he leaned in to light it. Girl didn’t even notice. Maybe she’d cooled her jets a bit then.
“ Spike. Light that thing in here and die.”
Buffy glared at him with the fire of a thousand suns.
Or maybe not.
He made note of the special emphasis she’d put on “die” and flicked his lighter shut again. Nope, her jets were red-hot.
Shite.
The worst part of it, was that he was so distracted by her presence that he could hardly bring himself to worry about his own welfare. He was much more concerned with how it would affect his chances with her, or at least his chances of spending time with her.
Great bloody twonk.
He cursed himself. He slid his cigarette back into the pack and pocketed them again. Satisfied, Buffy went back to patently ignoring his existence. He sighed. If only it mattered. If her indifference made even the slightest dent in his affections for her. It didn’t. Even now he was completely captivated. But he could only blame himself. Spike never did anything half-assed. He had decided he was in love with her, and now there was no help for it. She owned him body and soul.
Well, if he was to be Love’s bitch – at least she was a pretty mistress. He smirked to himself. She looked beautiful today (and when did she not?) She was wearing a sheer peasant top with a soft golden yellow and cream pattern on it, underneath he could see a silky camisole hugging the curves of those lovely breasts. Dammit, was she trying to kill him? Did the girl ever wear a bra?? He could see the smooth pebbles of her hardened nipples clearly. No wonder Harris was such a fan. The girl was built to tease – and she didn’t even know it. That was a good part of her appeal actually. Buffy had no idea how damn pretty she was.
Good thing too. If she got any cockier I’d have to kill her myself.
He smiled. He adored her swagger actually. That cool self-assurance had drawn him to her from the beginning. She’d never been afraid, not once. Every move she made had told him clearly: “prepare to meet thy doom.” Little did he know then precisely what form that doom would take. Some nights lately, he almost wished she’d just gone ahead and staked him. Buffy smiled winningly at Xander and brushed her hair back over her shoulder, sending a waft of her perfume Spike’s way. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring it. Something sweet and slightly spicy today. White Ginger Lily it was. He’d seen the bottle in her room just the other night when he’d been…(ahem) collecting. Mixed with her natural scent it was devastating.
He shifted his once-again rising erection under the cover of the duster. Damn, sometimes she didn’t even have to touch him anymore. Just a smile, a look or one little whiff of her and he was hard as a rock. It seemed his little obsession was getting worse. He wondered idly how long it would be before it killed him. Or before he wanted to kill himself.
Something had to happen soon.
He was this far from starting up the bloody poetry.
Chapter Eleven ~ Love is the Drug
“ Stitched up tight, can’t shake free.
Love is the drug gotta hook on me.
Oh, catch that buzz.
Love is the drug I’m thinking of.
Oh, can’t you see?
Love is the drug for me.”
~ Roxy Music
Buffy was feeling more relaxed now. She should have known some Scooby-time was all she needed. She’d forgotten all about Spike and that stupid dream. Inside the comforting warmth of her circle of friends it hardly seemed real. This was what was real. Not some ridiculous de-fanged vamp and a dime-store romance of a dream. How silly of her to be so disturbed by it in the first place. In the bright light of day it was all too easily dismissed.
But his eyes…
Bad Buffy Brain whispered. Nothing like the sky. She assured herself. Nothing like the sea. Just stupid eyes. There was no soul behind them so what could it matter? The answer to that, of course, was that it didn’t. She was probably just having some freak reaction to all the stress in her life right now.
But what about before that…?
Bad Buffy Brain was weakening under her defenses. She could just about ignore that one. The important thing was that Riley was here, Riley was now. And look how much everyone loved him… Xander thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He practically treated him like a brother. And Giles approved, and Mom approved. Dawn even adored him. And that was sooo nice. Everyone loved him and loved her and she fit right in to this safe little assemblage of mutual approval. And when was the last time that happened? The last time she felt like she belonged anywhere? Hell, she hadn’t felt remotely normal since …since before she became the Slayer.
Wow.
That realization hit her hard. She’d kinda known it, but never really realized it. It ‘d been in the back of her head, this quiet knowing. But now it was front and center. Buffy desperately missed being normal. So much that it hurt sometimes. Yeah, she loved her work – she did actual good in the world. But it made her an outsider. A roll she wasn’t given a choice about.
One day she was so far inside that she was idolized. She set the trends, made the rules. She was on top, and everyone loved her – wanted to be like her. The next she was out in the cold, freezing to death with her nose pushed up against the glass. And she wanted back in.
She needed it to keep her sane, to give her balance, to prove to herself that she was still normal. Cause deep inside, in a place she kept thoughts that never saw daylight, she was pretty sure she wasn’t – not really. No, not at all. An evil little voice had been telling her: ‘You don’t belong - not anywhere.’ She was outside the outsiders, and it was so cold out there…
This was as close as she’d been to normal in a long time; inside this circle of love and acceptance where it was so warm. Her boyfriend was strong and handsome and stable. Giles was everything but a biological father. She had her mother, she had Dawn. She had the two best friends anyone could ever ask for. This was feeling a whole lot like normal life to her. And that was close enough. It was enough for her.
Wasn’t it?
Her subconscious whispered. Yes, of course it was. More than enough. And if Riley didn’t set her world on fire that was okay. Because real love wasn’t like that anyway. Real love was about support and respect and kindness. And he was such a good man. What kind of person would she be if she didn’t love him? That was not a question Buffy was prepared to answer. So she was just going to try and love him. And enjoy her normal life with her normal friends and her everybody’s-all-American boyfriend.
Yes, good plan. Going with that…
With his usual sense of impeccable timing…
Enter our hero, stage right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dammit! What is he doing here? Was he even invited to this? Who the hell told him there was a meeting? Crap!
Buffy’s brain went into overdrive. To make things worse her body followed skipping right along. It didn’t give a hot damn that Spike was a vampire sans soul and totally unsuitable in every conceivable way. As far as Buffy’s body was concerned its divine right mate was in the room and it was practically singing with joy. This only served to irritate her further. There he was casual as hell, looking like some deposed rock star. Looking like he belonged here. It got right up under her skin. What gave him the fucking right?! To just sit there, and be so gorgeous, seem so touchable, so damn…fuckable. Like she could mount him right now. Like he wanted it. Expected it. Like it was simply his due. Worse yet was how much she wanted to do exactly that. Against all reason just get up, walk over there and climb him like a tree.
Buffy tried not to look at Spike directly. She felt the heat prickle on the back of her neck, on her upper lip, between her breasts. The middle of fucking autumn and she was about to sweat through her shirt. She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried very hard to ignore the tableau her mind kept presenting her with…
She would rise casually from her chair, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Crossing the room to where he stood would take only a fraction of an instant. And then he’d be there, right in front of her – radiating inviting coolness. And she was so very hot right now. She wouldn’t say anything and he would just smile like he knew. Like he understood exactly what she needed. And he would know. He would pull her close and kiss her slowly and thoroughly. And she wouldn’t care about anything anymore. Not about Riley. Or her friends. She would forget about Glory. About brain tumors and death. It would all just fade out like a darkened stage far beyond the spotlight they stood in. And it would be perfectly right…to just kiss him like he contained the very last breath of oxygen in the room. To undress him and take her time with it, enjoying the slow, tantalizing exposure of so much perfect flesh. To bare her self to him and let him delight in her, showing him anything and everything he wanted to see. Because she wanted him to see it all. And then she would feel his cold, muscular body pressed intimately against her own and she would let him have her. She would spread for him on the counter, letting him devour her wetness and suckle her breasts. She would lay for him on the floor and love the feel of his hard body driving her into the cold linoleum. She would bend over the table and enjoy the scrape of leather and paper against her nipples and belly as he fucked her from behind. And then in the training room…
Spike’s movement startled her out of her trance. She’d been staring at him from the corner of her eye for the past five minutes. Her heart was going a thousand miles an hour and she’d broken out in a light sheen of sweat. Stupid vampire. Buffy deeply resented the thrall he seemed to have over her today. Wait – what was he doing? She couldn’t believe it – he was actually gonna smoke in here! The nerve…as if it wasn’t bad enough that he was here at all…
“ Spike. Light that thing in here and die.”
She glared at him with the full intensity of her pent up lust and frustration. He had the decency to look abashed and put it away. There. Now she could go back to ignoring him.
Good. Stupid jerk.
Now what was that about the training room again?
Chapter Twelve ~ Do You Wanna Touch Me?
“We’ve been here too long, trying to get along – pretending that you’re oh so shy.
I’m a natural man, doing all I can – my temperature is running high.
Late at night, no one’s in sight and we got so much to share.
Talking’s fine if you got the time, but I ain’t got the time to spare.
Do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch, do you wanna touch me?”
~ Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
It had been a very uncomfortable meeting for Spike. Trying not to stare at Buffy, trying to ignore her tantalizing scent, trying to think of anything other than having his way with her on every available surface in the bloody shop.
There was somethin’ I always wanted to try on the vaulting horse…
Sod it all, now he was hard again. He’d just pictured it instantly, vividly; Buffy’s beautiful bare bum draped enticingly over the side, inviting him to spank it, nibble it and…his erection throbbed.
Must. Control. Self.
Being a walking hard-on was getting to be a serious nuisance. He was about to actually earn the label ‘Wanker’. It was every sodding day now, more than once. He’d had other obsessions before, but nothing like this. Even Dru, lovely crazy Dru, had never gotten to him this badly. And he had belonged to her for over a century. Spike suspected he was getting in way over his head here…
What was it about this girl? Why did everything about her scream at him to claim her, make her his own? He felt like a bloody cave man asserting his mating rights. Spike smirked, enjoying the image his brain supplied of dragging Buffy off into his cave. She was wearing one of those little fur bikinis like Raquel Welch in… Uh oh, Buffy was frowning at him. She’d caught him leering in her direction and didn’t look at all pleased. He slapped on a frown of concentration and stared intently at Giles – a very decent facsimile of a man paying attention.
Something about that Glory chippie again. Watch out for the minions. Right, got it. Ooo, and patrol with Buffy, nice! Just him and her – ‘cause they were the strongest and it was right dangerous out an’ all. Brilliant! Alone time with Buffy – smelling her, watching her fight, perhaps a spot of lively banter…maybe he could even talk her into some quality time with the vaulting horse later. Spike chuckled to himself at that.
Not bloody likely, Mate.
Yeah, but a fella can dream can’t he?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy didn’t like the way Spike was eyeballing her at all. He appeared to be having thoughts of the no good variety. She wondered if he was planning something. But that was ridiculous; Spike was a puppy on a permanent leash now. He couldn’t hurt a fly. Plus he’d been annoyingly helpful and eager to please lately. Which meant… that he was probably having thoughts of the naughty variety. Equally no good. It was bad enough that she was having them. If he was having them too, and then they were both having them together… Well, that could only lead to very wrong bad things. Things that could not be named. Or talked about in mixed company. That’s how wrong they were. Things she could never tell her mother or even Willow about…
Like Spike fucking me into the ground behind the front counter.
Looks like Bad Buffy Brain was back with a vengeance. Damn. Although that thing she thought about doing with him in the book loft sounded kinda fun. She felt her eyes drifting up in that direction.
Ooooo, the ladder. Didn’t even get to that yet…
She eyed the steep wooden steps that lead to the off-limits books thoughtfully, mental wheels a-spinning. Uh oh, Giles was speaking to her, and she’d missed half of what he’d said.
“…. patrol tonight, Buffy.”
Yay – patrol. Something I’m actually good at.
“ Of course, Giles. No problem.”
“ Excellent. I think you and Spike can set off. We’re done for the evening.”
Crap. Well, that’ll teach me to pay attention.
Buffy remembered what it was she’d been thinking about instead and flushed prettily. She gathered up her coat and bag trying to calm herself a little.
It was gonna be a long night…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They began their patrol with the cemetery closest to the Magic Box, both unusually silent.
Spike assumed Buffy was potentially hostile and treated her with the care he would an atomic bomb. He found this particularly taxing as it competed with his almost overwhelming desire to touch her hair, taste her skin and strip her naked at the earliest possible moment. Then there was his nagging erection, which had shown no signs of going away in the past hour and a half. And with a night of watching Buffy fighting ahead of him, he knew it was here to stay for the foreseeable future. He sighed dramatically and lit up a smoke, the word “priapism” sauntering casually through his brain.
Buffy was keeping a steady distance from Spike, not trusting herself to act rationally given the increasingly naughty thoughts clouding her mind. She’d kept to one-word responses so far, discouraging any potentially sexy banter, or arousing arguments. Things were getting seriously screwy. Whatever her problem was, it was getting worse. It was all she could do to keep her hands from winding themselves in his hair, her mouth from crushing itself to his. She settled for jamming her fists deep into the pockets of her fitted corduroy jacket. Better to keep her hands on a stake anyway, right?
Right.
She agreed firmly. She knew what she wanted for herself and her life, and Riley was it. These ridiculous lusty feelings for Spike were just a by-product of her over-stressed, over-worked little brain. It all made perfect sense. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances. She gave herself a few extra feet of clearance from him just to be on the safe side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dammit, why was she so bloody far away? Was she still upset from the other night? He could hardly catch her scent from here, not enough to really enjoy it. Not like he wanted to, all up close and personal like. Of course if he had his way, he’d be smellin’ her from a vantage point somewhere between her legs. Spike grinned wickedly at the thought.
Someday, someday…
Hopefully sooner rather than later. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. If his knob got any harder he’d be able to stake the vamps hands-free. It was getting so it was faster to count the hours without an erection than the ones with. And whacking off only helped so much. He was fairly certain his body was on a tear; it wanted the real thing and the real thing only. He couldn’t say he blamed it, really.
Meanwhile this buggerin’ hard-on was getting damned uncomfortable. He hoped like hell that the fighting would help. That was always an efficient way to relieve tension. And it was the only option he had at the moment that wasn’t likely to get him staked. Given her current mood, he was positive his attentions would not be welcome to say the least. And he somehow didn’t think Buffy would be amused to find him tossing off behind the nearest tombstone either.
Ah, if only she’d help a fella out a bit.
He was struck by a sudden vision of her on her knees in front of him, wrapping her pretty, glossy mouth around the head of his cock. He had to stifle an involuntary moan and was suddenly glad she was twenty feet away at the moment. His prick throbbed painfully in the confinement of his jeans, and he tried casually to adjust it under the cloak of his duster.
This was getting bloody ridiculous.
Eros couldn’t help being amused at the scene before him. He could see the pheromones in the very air, could feel the heat between them as a live and palpable thing. And their heartfires blazed like a nuclear furnace whenever they were near each other. It was blindingly beautiful. And also insanely frustrating. He had never seen a pair more desirous of one another. Yet here they were yards apart, stubbornly avoiding the very thing they each wanted most in the world. Each other.
He was thisfar from breaking out the arrows. He observed the pair scowling, thunder gathering on his usually clear brow. Evidently this was a much more complicated matter than he bargained for.
No matter. He was up for the challenge. The only question was,
What could possibly be done?
Chapter Thirteen ~ There’s Gonna Be a Heartache Tonight
“ Somebody’s gonna hurt someone, before the night is through.
Somebody’s gonna come undone, there’s nothing we can do.
Everybody wants to touch somebody, if it takes all night.
Everybody wants to take a little chance, make it come out right.
There’s gonna be a heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know…”
~ The Eagles
Spike prayed fervently for a vamp to show up.
Just give me a fledgling. I’ll take anything – Come on!
He felt like he was about to explode – one way or the other. Either his cock was gonna rupture or he was gonna go insane. He wanted her so bloody much, in every possible way. And she could hardly bring herself to look at him. She’d spent the entire patrol 15 feet away and barely speaking to him. It hurt him with a physical pain. To make things worse there had been no demon activity tonight. None.
Not a single vampire. Fyarl. Lei-Ach. Nothin’. And if they’d ever needed a good fight, it was right the fuck now. It seemed like every minute that passed without any action, things got more unbearable. He’d had enough and was about to confront her – ‘cause fightin’ with her was better than this agonizing silence – when she called his name.
“ Spike!”
He turned around just in time to get it full in the face from a Gravitas demon. The brute was a mottled red-purple, standing six feet ten with a fist like an anvil. Spike’s nose hurt like hell, but he couldn’t have been happier. Finally something he could fight. He vamped out and flung himself at the giant beast. For five full minutes he beat the bloody hell out of it. Bashed and smashed for all he was worth, carefully avoiding it’s sharpened tusks. When he finally wore it down to the ground he snapped its neck with a satisfying crunch. His face was bleeding and his hands were battered – it was a beautiful thing.
Spike grinned with satisfaction and lit up a cigarette. Ah, that was ever so much better. Nothin’ like a good kill to relax a bloke. He stretched his neck out, and checked his body for damage. Blast. His dick was still hard. He sighed, feeling deeply put upon.
Why am I not surprised?
But at least he felt better, less …pent up. He could always take care of this little problem later. Lord knows he was used to it by now.
Wanker.
He smirked, then turned to see the glare of displeasure on Buffy’s face.
Oh, hell – what’d I do now?
“What?”
He asked, unnerved. She just gave him a scowl and walked on.
“ Buffy…”
He called after her, following.
“ How long you gonna give me the silent treatment, Pet?”
She looked back at him, obviously caught off guard.
“ What…? I was not...”
He sighed to himself before elaborating;
“ You’ve said exactly five words to me in the last hour.”
She looked slightly bewildered and gave him a distracted apology.
“ Oh, well. Sorry.”
Spike raised an eyebrow at her.
“ So what is it then?”
Buffy looked genuinely confused.
“ What’s what then?”
Losing patience, he ground out;
“ What. Is. Your. Problem.”
She dismissed him indifferently, walking away.
“ I don’t have a problem, Spike.”
He snorted.
“ No? Then you’re doing a damned fine impression of a woman with a serious stick up her arse.”
Buffy flushed, irritated now.
“ Screw you, Spike.”
“ Alright,” he said casually, “if you think it’ll help.”
He stared idly at the chipped black polish on his nails, a bored expression on his face. Tossing his cigarette he turned to her - eyeing her lewdly.
“ From the looks of it, I’d say you haven’t had a good seeing to in awhile. Maybe that’s your problem right there.”
She rounded on him, hand extended for a slap – but Spike grabbed her wrist, blocking her. He smiled condescendingly, chiding;
“ Now, now Kitten. That’s no way for a lady to act.”
She was absolutely infuriated, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it. It had always been that way between them. And hey, if he couldn’t have fucking, he’d take fighting any day. At least she was talking to him now. Plus she looked bloody gorgeous; chest heaving, face flushed. And he could finally smell her properly. His eyes widened in surprise – no doubt about it, the girl was on fire. She was at least as aroused as he was from the scent of her. He licked his lips unconsciously.
What I wouldn’t give for a taste of that.
Buffy caught the gesture and pulled her hand out of his grasp, startled. Why did he have to look so sexy when he did that?! She turned away from him, befuddled by the huge conflicted jumble of feelings she was having. She was unspeakably attracted to him, when he was close like this she could hardly stand it. And that was so very many shades of wrong. She checked off the list in her head; He had no soul. She had a boyfriend. He was evil. He was a vampire. And he was gorgeous, and he knew it. He was smug and arrogant, and excruciatingly hot. She felt like bursting into tears. Why was everything so screwed up? Why did she have to feel this way about him? Why not Riley?? She’d never been so frustrated in her entire life.
Spike grinned impudently, apparently enjoying her torment.
Well, she had just the perfect target for all her frustration, didn’t she? She rounded on him, her face a perfect thundercloud of fury. Her voice was low and deadly.
“ You wanna know what my problem is, Spike?”
He cocked a curious eyebrow at her, feigning a nonchalance he suddenly didn’t feel.
“ You. You are my problem. Your smoking, your helping, your ridiculous hair. Your fucking presence in my life! Everywhere I go, there you are. At my house, at the Magic Box, at the Bronze. I mean what are you even doing anyway?”
His eyes narrowed and he matched her tone with an equally dangerous one of his own.
“ Helping you, you stupid bint.”
She had the gall to look amused at this. Smiling nastily, she mocked him;
“ Oh? And exactly how are you helping?”
He sputtered, furious.
“ I help you on patrol, for one thing. Just took out that nasty demon guy five minutes ago if you recall.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
“ I can patrol by myself just fine. And for the record I would’ve taken that guy out in half the time.”
Spike shrugged.
“ I was enjoying m’self, what can I say? Sometimes a fella needs a good bit of violence to set him to rights.”
Buffy seized upon this point;
“ And that’s another thing – the way you enjoy the fighting – it’s just sick.”
He was absolutely incredulous. The level of her denial was unbelievable.
“ Oh, and you don’t?!”
She crossed her arms in a self-satisfied manner and said confidently;
“ No, I don’t. It’s my job, Spike. I do it because it needs to be done. End of story.”
He threw up his arms in disbelief.
“ Anyone ever tell you you’re delusional, Summers?”
She glared at him, dander rising.
“ What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Spike smiled knowingly and moved in close to her.
“ It means I know you bloody enjoy it. You like it as much as I do – maybe more.”
Buffy shrugged him off, and slipped away from his looming form – dismissing him and his words at once.
“Another one of your little fantasies I guess.”
He grinned smugly, rising to the challenge.
“ Y’know, Pet – Vampires have an extremely well developed sense of smell.”
She arched a perfect brow at him.
“ Yeah. So? ”
Purposefully not touching her, he leaned in close to whisper;
“ That means I can smell it on you. Every. Time.”
Buffy hissed with shock and moved to pull away, but he whipped an arm out and held her there for a moment. His voice was a low rumble in her ear.
“I know when you like it. I know when you want it.”
He released her roughly and scalded her with a lascivious look, as his eyes seemed to crawl over her entire body.
“Like now for instance.”
Buffy was stunned. She’d never felt so exposed before, as if he’d just walked in on her naked. He circled her, enjoying having the upper hand for a change.
“ Y’know It’s funny, Pet – how you never seem all that excited around your little soldier boy.”
He paused eyeing her with amusement, then leaned in to whisper in her ear;
“ But you always, always are… around me.”
Buffy launched herself at him with raw fury. How dare he talk to her this way! How dare he try to humiliate her, to use something so personal - so intimate – against her! Her first smack connected cleanly to his cheek and sent his head rocking to the side. Spike roared with delight and laughed;
“ That’s my girl!”
This only enraged her further and she backhanded him with her closed fist – sending him stumbling back with a bloody nose. He reacted by laughing harder, then righting himself. She strode forward in full Slayer mode, ready to beat him to death if necessary. Her hand automatically palmed a stake from her jacket. All her lust, confusion and frustration channeled itself into this one moment of violence.
He stood in front of her in a loose fighting stance. He could do little more than block her blows, she knew – yet there he was wearing the cockiest grin ever.
“ I am so gonna smack that smirk off your face.”
She said menacingly, advancing on him.
He just raised an eyebrow at her, smiling.
“ C’mon, Baby. Give it me good.”
Chapter Fourteen ~ Ain’t Love a Kick in the Head ?
“Like the fella once said – ain’t that a kick in the head?
My head keeps spinnin’, I go to sleep and keep grinnin’,
If this is just the beginnin’ my life is gonna be beautiful.
I’ve sunshine enough to spread. It’s just like the fella said;
Tell me quick , ain’t love a kick in the head? ”
~ Dean Martin
Buffy was coming at him with a stake in her hand, wearing a murderous look on her face. But it was her eyes that were killing him now. There was a fire in them Spike was hypnotized by. They burned into his, brimming with passion and fury. Thank God she didn’t have an axe in her hands, ‘cause she looked hell-bent on homicide. Why didn’t he care about that exactly?
He only knew he felt alive right now and there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Nothing existed outside the circle of her regard - however deadly that regard might prove. Her face was flushed with rage, her long, fair hair streamed out behind her. She looked like a warrior goddess, like a Valkyrie in flight.
Tell Valhalla I’m coming…
He thought, unrepentant. She was on him in a moment – a blur of motion as she attacked. He could have laughed with the joy of it. It was all so right, just as it should be between them – as it had been from the very beginning. How long was it since they’d truly fought? It felt like an eternity. His only regret was that he could not give her the battle she deserved. The chip would not allow it. He could block her, and as long as he had no intention to harm her he was fine. But he missed the dance. Their dance.
Spike would take what he could get right now though. And watching her as she tried to beat him within an inch of his un-life was pretty damn good. Her skin was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, her hair mussed, lips moist and parted as she panted from exertion. She was the most entrancing thing he had ever seen. He could hear the pounding of her heart, feel the heat coming off her in waves – but best of all he could smell her. There was a light tang of ginger-lily mixed in with the scent of her excitement. It made his mouth water. She was more aroused than she had ever been around him before and it thrilled him to no end. He knew it was for him, all for him…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was beating him down with everything she had. But he never stopped smiling. He just ducked and weaved, blocking her when he could. She used the stake like a set of brass knuckles, buttressing her punches. She managed to smash him in the jaw, and watched his head snap back with satisfaction. Bastard. She kicked him square in the chest and watched him fly a dozen feet landing hard on his ass. It made her want to giggle hysterically. She noticed how giddy she felt, how high. She was actually enjoying herself. This didn’t surprise her too terribly much – she’d always loved fighting him. No one else challenged her like Spike. Even now, when he should be five minutes from a total K.O., he was still holding his own.
As if to prove her point, he leapt up from the ground and came stalking back, grin still firmly in place. Buffy whipped off her jacket and tossed it on the grass. She placed herself in a fighting stance: body cocked to one side, leading with her right fist. She was ready for him.
“ Feel better, Kitten? Release some of that nasty tension?”
His voice was oozing with insincerity. She shot him a brightly vicious smile.
“ As a matter of fact, I feel great. But then again I always did enjoy kicking your ass.”
“ Tell ya a secret, Pet…” He whispered conspiratorially “ So did I.”
He winked at her and pursed his lips in a mocking kiss.
It had the desired effect, inciting Buffy to lunge for him. He avoided her neatly, but found himself staggering back from a solid boot to the head a minute later. He laughed, ears ringing.
“ That’s right, Baby. Put it all on me.”
He shook his head to clear the bells and stood his ground, eyeing her impudently.
“ You know it’s no good for you to be so bloody pent up, Slayer.”
He said with mock concern, dancing like a boxer in front of her. Ready for Round 10.
Ooooo! He was so infuriating. What did it take to beat him down? His ego was unbelievable! She’d used him as a human punching bag for the last half hour. He couldn’t even hit her back for God’s sake! But there he was, cocky as ever – smiling, laughing, taunting her. His mouth just kept working overtime. What the hell was it gonna take??
Buffy looked her adversary up and down, sizing him up – taking him in. As if he was a puzzle she could solve with careful study. His platinum hair glowed in the darkness and the moonlight played on the sharp, handsome planes of his face. The blood on his lip only accented the finely cut sensuality of his full mouth, which was twisted up into an insolent smirk at the moment. He looked dangerous and sexy and far too pleased with himself.
She was reminded of a line from Peter Pan, and could practically hear Spike crowing it now:
“ Oh the cleverness of me! ”
That struck a chord – there was only one thing that ever quieted the Pan.
Finally Buffy seized upon the single thing in the world that would shut Spike up.
She kissed him.
Chapter Fifteen ~ Ring of Fire
“Love is a burning thing, and it makes a fiery ring.
Bound by wild desire, I fell into a ring fire.
I fell in to a burnin’ ring of fire.
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher.
And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire.
The ring of fire.”
~ Johnny Cash
Was this really happening? Was Buffy actually in his arms right now? One minute she was beating the piss out of him, the next she’d launched herself at his mouth. The feverish heat of her body seared him through his clothes. Her mouth was so hot and wet and inviting – and her body, thrumming with life – the musky animal tang of her blood and her flesh. It was fiercely intoxicating. This was so much better than anything he could have possibly imagined.
If this is another dream I don’t ever want to wake up.
Her hands wound themselves in his hair while she kissed him ravenously. Now that she started this, she was lost in it. There was no thought involved, just the final, overwhelming urge to join. Her body rejoiced madly. ‘At last, at last it!’ it cried. The feel of him was incredible – he was cool everywhere she was hot, soothing the aching fire that had been burning her for days now.
Her legs wrapped around his waist of their own accord, seeking closeness, seeking contact. Her arms snaked tight around his neck as she clung to him. ‘More, more, more!’ her body howled. She felt like she was starving for things she didn’t have names for, things only he possessed. It was perfect, mindless connection – a feverish and deeply primal thing. All questions, rationales and plans snuffed out of existence like candle flames, leaving Spike the only light in that darkness.
He was waiting for spontaneous combustion to kick in. She was a live flame in his arms, liquid sunshine that was about to burn him up from the inside out. When she wrapped her legs around him he gasped from the raw heat of her pressed up against him. He was barely containing himself, his demon was screaming to get out – to take her right here, right now. To fuck her and drink her till he’d had his fill. But Spike wanted more than that, he wanted to lay her out and enjoy her, taste her - love her. For more than just one night, more than a week, a month or a year. Forever was on his mind, and at the moment it seemed like barely enough time.
He pushed her up against the nearest convenient tree, grinding his rock hard length into her sultry heat. His hands sought contact with her naked flesh and wormed their way up under her clothes. He caressed her exposed back with one hand, reveling in the silk of her skin – while the other found her bare breast underneath the camisole. She moaned at his touch and tightened her legs, writhing against him.
God, how he’d dreamt of this. So many nights longing for her – and now, this moment – it was so much better than any fantasy he’d ever had. She was blisteringly hot, and he could feel her arousal soaking through the crotch of her jeans. The smell of it was driving him mad. He didn’t know how much longer he could hang on before he literally ripped her clothes off and simply took her. He wanted to taste her so much, to feel her thighs wrapped around his neck. He wanted to make her come more than he wanted blood right now. And to be inside her? He wanted that more than he wanted to live.
Her nipple was a hard little pebble against his palm, and he pulled away from her kiss to taste it. He gently set her on her feet while he moved down her body to expose her breasts. They were unbelievably perfect – small and firm, just the right size for his hand. He licked between them and was gratified to watch a row of goosebumps pop up where his tongue had been. Her flesh was delicious, tinged with the salt of her sweat – her nipple like rough satin in his mouth. He swirled his tongue over it enjoying the texture, while he rolled the other one between his thumb and forefinger.
She was panting hotly and making little mewls of pleasure. He moved down her stomach, kissing it and licking it slowly until he was on his knees before her. The smell of her sweet, dripping cunt was like a drug for him. He inhaled deeply, savouring it. He undid the button on her low-rise jeans and carefully unzipped her. This was so much farther than he’d ever hoped to go, it almost didn’t seem real. But here he was on his knees, about to do what he had only dared dream.
She was wearing a pair of ivory lace panties sheer enough to see her dark curls through. His mouth watered for a taste of her, and he wasn’t about to deny himself the pleasure. He pulled her g-string down and her jeans open as far as he could – not wanting to take them off quite yet. He wanted to draw out every single moment of their pleasure. Using his fingers he spread her lips open slightly and then slid his tongue in between them. Buffy arched into his mouth with a strangled cry. He snaked his tongue inside her as far as the limited position would allow and was rewarded with a flood of her juices. She was so wet for him – for him. The thought made his already hardened cock swell and throb against his jeans.
Soon, soon…
He thought hungrily. He pistoned his tongue in and out of her , savouring such an intimate taste of his beloved. She panted and shivered lacing her fingers through his hair – holding on while the world spun dizzily around her. He pulled out to flutter over her clit with a series of light, teasing strokes. When he wrapped his lips around it and sucked it into his mouth Buffy cried out and her knees buckled. He rose up to steady her, pinning her against the tree.
“There, there…” he soothed, “Daddy’s got you now.”
He kissed her soundly, sliding his tongue into her mouth and twining his hand in the silky hairs at the nape of her neck. He worked his way to her throat, scraping it lightly with his teeth and teasing it with gentle flicks of his tongue. She whimpered helplessly, completely under his thrall now. He took her hand and placed it over the solid bulge in his pants.
“ See what you do to me… how much I want you.”
He said huskily. She moaned and grasped it through his jeans, making him shudder. He sucked her lower lip and gently bit it, savouring the taste of her and then proceeded to kiss her languorously. When his hand found its way back inside her saturated panties she cried out against his mouth while squeezing his cock firmly. The pleasure-pain of it made him want to come right then and he struggled for control.
He caressed her clit with his middle finger for a moment then worked his hand in between her legs to slip a slick digit within her. Buffy gasped causing him to look at her. He was caught for a moment by her radiant green eyes. They reflected the same powerful desire and hungry yearning he felt for her. He slid another finger inside and watched her pupils dilate with the pleasure of it. Staring into his eyes she moved her hands to his jeans, unzipping him and freeing his erection.
He groaned as he felt her hot little hands wrap around him. So soft and warm against his naked flesh. She caressed the head with the pad of her thumb, swirling the pearl of moisture that had collected there over it in a circular pattern. Now she had him panting. Eyes locked on his she raised that thumb to her mouth and sucked it, humming with pleasure at his salty taste. The gesture undid him.
With a ravenous growl he crushed his mouth to hers, hand clutched in her hair, pulling her to him fiercely. He slid his fingers deeper within her and added his thumb to her clit, circling it. Kissing him violently she used his foreskin to manipulate his cock, sliding it up and down over the length. It was so cool, so large – she wondered how it would feel inside of her, if it would put out her blazing fire.
They devoured each other with kisses while their hands worked furiously. She spread her legs wider for him as he slid his fingers further inside. Spike braced himself against the tree with one hand as she industriously stroked his cock. He could feel her orgasm coming on, her thighs twitching and muscles just starting to contract. When her wandering fingers found their way to his nipple and tweaked it he knew he wasn’t far from his own either. He located her G-spot and then stroked over it with both fingers in a ‘come hither’ movement. Buffy rewarded him with a wail of pleasure, then doubled her efforts. He didn’t want it to end yet though, Spike wanted to take her somewhere and make it last all night – maybe all week.
“ Baby, Buffy – please. Want you so much…let me...let’s...”
He murmured into her ear, resting his forehead against hers.
“ Yeah, Spike…so good. Close…close now…”
God, she’d said his name. Told him how good it was. He could die happy – almost.
“ Love, let’s go somewhere…lemme take you somewhere…”
What? What was he saying? Go? Where was there to go? There was only here, and how he was making her feel right this second – like the entire Universe was about to explode. She felt his fingers driving deep while his thumb ground down on her sensitive clit. God, it was so fucking good, like nothing she’d ever felt before.
“ So close…Oh God...” She whimpered in his ear.
Ah, Christ - she was so wet, and he wanted to be inside her so much. Wanted to feel that slick intoxicating heat closing all around him.
“ Baby, let’s go now…wanna take you to my crypt … to my bed. Let me take you…do you proper…” He panted.
If he could just get her home… God, he wanted to strip those clothes off, wanted to have her in his bed with room to move and time to explore every bit of her. He’d keep her there for the next month…
“What?”
She asked, startled. What did he say? Her hands stopped moving.
“ I said; let me take you home, Pet. Do you proper.”
He managed to gasp, hand still working it’s magic.
“ That’s not what you said.”
She stilled that hand, pulling away.
Oh God, he said crypt. He wants to take me to his crypt! What am I doing? What have I done?
“ It is. Just want to get you into my bed, Love – you know pillows, room to maneuver?” He kissed her shoulder. “Clean sheets instead of the ground…”
“ You said crypt, Spike.”
He stared at her, completely bewildered.
What’s she going on about?
“ You said crypt. And I can’t do this.”
“What?”
“ I forgot for a minute. But now I remember. And I. Can’t. Do. This.”
“ What? Wait. What??”
She was pulling away from him, zipping up, tucking away all that delectable flesh. He could see her almost visibly retreat inside herself.
“ You said crypt, Spike.” She repeated as if to a singularly stupid child. “ You said crypt, you want to whisk me away to your crypt like it’s the ‘No Tell Motel’ and what? You can’t even love me, you have no soul, you’re a fucking vampire and I don’t have any fucking idea what
I’m doing anymore!!”
“ Angel was a vampire.”
He said quietly, carefully putting away his now painfully throbbing erection.
“ Angel had a soul.”
Her voice was flat, as if this were a well-established fact they had discussed a thousand times.
“ Ah, but not all the time, yeah? And therein lies the rub.”
Spike adjusted himself carefully, vainly seeking a comfortable position.
“ What the hell are you talking about? Speak English.”
She smoothed her clothes and found her jacket on the ground. Brushing it off she studiously avoided his eyes. His voice was soothing, seeking to calm her.
“ I was, Pet. But no matter. My point is that Angel had a soul, ’cept when he didn’t and that’s what you’re afraid of.”
Buffy threw up her hands in frustration and started pacing.
“ What I’m afraid of is the agonizing oblivion that lies at the end of this road. Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt that says: ‘My boyfriend was a homicidal vampire and all I got was this lousy guilt complex.’ ”
She said in her best sarcastic tone. She tried to make him understand;
“ I know this story, I know how it ends. With death and pain and destruction. I won’t put the people I love through that again. Hell, I won’t put myself through that again.”
“ You do not know the end of this story, ‘cause you don’t know me! I’m not bloody Angel!”
He shouted, losing patience. She eyed him coldly, sizing him up and finding him wanting.
“ You’re right – you’re not Angel. You’re not half the man he is.”
He was stunned, he felt as if she’d slapped him. To be compared unfavorably with the Poof, that manipulative buggering fuck! It made him feel ill.
“ And don’t I know you, Spike?” she continued with cruel precision. “My perfect enemy? My nemesis? William the Bloody – Killer of killers? Slayer of Slayers? The scourge of Europe…blah, blah, blah…”
She dismissed him and all his titles with a haughty flip of her hand.
“ That’s not me anymore.”
His voice held a quiet conviction.
“ Why? Because you have that chip in your head? That’s not a substitute for a soul, Spike.”
“ Never said it was, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t love you, Buffy. Because believe me I -”
She held up her hand – stop in the name of love.
“ Don’t say it! Just don’t…”
He pleaded with her;
“ But I’ve changed! And not just because of the chip! Because of you, I’ve changed because of you. You make me want to be a better man, Buffy – and I can be.
I can be a good man, for you.”
Her voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch;
“ But you’re not a man! And it wouldn’t matter even if you did have a soul – you’d still be a vampire. And I’m not going there anymore. I just can’t.” She shook her head, adamant – then continued, “ Don’t you get it? I want normal, I need normal! I need Riley, he’s strong and stable and reliable…”
Spike sighed and lit up a cigarette.
“ Sounds like a bleedin’ draft horse, not a boyfriend.”
He took a long, steadying drag and began pacing out his frustration.
“Haven’t you figured out yet that there is no normal? Normal’s just the status quo. Look around you – your best friend’s a gay witch, vampires are real and you live on a Hellmouth. Guess what, Princess – this is about as ‘normal’ as you’re likely to get!”
She rolled her eyes at his stubborn lack of comprehension.
“You know what I mean Spike. I want average-normal, sitcom-normal. I want a nice boyfriend; I want to go to college. I wanna have a good life with my friends and family and a little happiness. And most of all I don’t want to have to kill any of them!”
Spike stopped pacing and looked at her squarely. Gently, patiently he tried to explain;
“ Well, I’m sorry, Love. But that’s just not the lot you drew. You’re the Slayer, like it or no. And that means you have to kill things. Maybe even someone you love someday. But doesn’t that mean you should reach for your happiness with both hands now, while you can?
Doesn’t that make it all the more precious?”
Frustrated at the brick wall she was throwing up, he growled;
“ And what’s so soddin’ fascinating about normal anyway? Normal is bland – normal is boring. And that’s the last thing you are, Pet. I’d wager it’s the last thing you need too…”
“ You don’t know what I need! And you don’t know me!” She shouted.
He matched her in tone and volume;
“ Yes I bloody well do! I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s what scares the piss out of you. This just might be the real thing, and you can’t handle that. Too scared to love because you might be hurt. Too scared to love me because of what that might say about you. Angel you could justify, rationalize. He had a soul and all that shite. But what if that had nothing to do with it? What if you just wanted him - his demon, his darkness. What if that’s part of why you want me?”
Buffy just gaped at him, speechless.
“ You say I’m a monster, deficient without a soul. But at least I recognize love when it comes knockin’, and I’m not so much of a coward as to run from it. What’s your excuse?”
He paused, waiting for an answer. When none was forthcoming he continued,
“ You’re never gonna be happy, Love – not as long as you keep running from yourself. Darkness is part of what you are. Accept it. Deal with it. Then maybe you can move on and stop lying to yourself for a change.”
She said nothing, just stared at him – completely stunned. It was obvious she wasn’t prepared to deal with any of this yet. Spike sighed and ground out his smoke. He suddenly felt utterly fed up with the whole buggered affair. She didn’t wanna deal? Fine. He’d had enough.
“ Let me know when you do. Until then I have better things to do with my time.”
He had a gratifying moment of triumph before he walked away from her.
Guess I’m not Love’s bitch after all.
He thought with a smirk.
But it was only a moment, and it was gone all too soon.
Chapter Sixteen ~ Tainted Love
“ Sometimes I feel I’ve got to run away, I’ve got to get away –
From the pain you drive into the heart of me.
The love we share seems to go nowhere.
And I’ve lost my light – I toss and turn, I can’t sleep at night.
Once I ran to you, now I run from you –
This tainted love you’re giving – I give you all a boy could give you,
Take my tears and that’s not nearly all – tainted love.
Don’t touch me please; I cannot stand the way you tease…
Oh, tainted love…”
~ Soft Cell
Spike managed to make it out of her eye line before the tears started. The frustration, the tension, the months of unrequited adoration built up until they broke him. He stumbled home in a daze, not quite believing what had happened. How had he gone from being on the verge of making love with her to breaking it off before it ever got started? In the gloom of his crypt he nursed a bottle of Jack and let them fall where they may. He intended to spend the next week inside a bottle, possibly longer.
Oblivion was the only thing that’d keep him from staking himself right now. He’d just lost the one thing he still cared about – the only thing that was keeping him going. And if he was honest with himself, he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone or anything ever
- in life or unlife.
Just why he couldn’t say. There was simply something about the girl. There always had been. He’d come to town to kill her, but her light – oh, her light. It was so very bright. It blinded him and drew him in until it was too late. Now he was a burning carcass falling to his doom. Never realizing she was a blazing candle and not the moon…
Now I’m waxing poetic about sodding moths.
“Ya sad bastard.”
He toasted himself with the bottle of Jack in his lap, taking a deep draught. No wonder Angel was such a great brooding pillock. She did have that effect, didn’t she? But Angel had left her, had willingly left her. He deserved what he got. Though… what was it that he just did? Didn’t he just walk out on her as well?
“ Oh, Bloody Hell!”
He laid his head in his hands. What in buggering fuck just happened? How did it…? Why?
“ Sweet fucking Christ. What a miserable cunt I turned out to be.”
He could have laughed at this ugly little quirk of fate. Things had gone completely arse over tit in a matter of moments. Somehow, in the midst of everything – he had managed to turn into fucking Angel…
He ground his palms into his eyes and prayed;
“Please God, Stake me now…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy stood there for a full minute, completely stunned. Her jaw practically unhinged itself it was hanging so far open.
What just happened?
Did Spike just leave her? Did he really walk away from her? Wait a minute…
Did Spike just tell me to get my shit together?
What alternative Universe was she in anyway? Was this Bizarro World where up was down and black was white and… Buffy felt dizzy. She bent over gulping huge lungfulls of air. Her thighs were twitching from all the unreleased energy and her body felt electrified. What had he done to her?
Oh, you mean aside from almost giving you the best orgasm of your life?
Bad Buffy Brain was back, and in a foul temper apparently. But she hadn’t done anything wrong! (Other than kissing him in the first place, and we’re just glossing right over that, right?) She’d told him no. She stopped the badness. She stayed true to Riley, her boyfriend.
(Mostly)
So then why did her brain go into attack mode? And why did she feel just exactly like shit right now? She did the right thing. And if Spike walked away that was for the good. He should know it’s over, and nothing like that could ever, ever happen again. And if that meant that she never saw him again, that was for the best.
“Yes, definitely.”
She nodded to herself – assuring, agreeing. She was right. This was the end, it was better this way, really.
So much better, in fact – that she began to cry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eros had had enough. This girl, this Slayer was the most obstinate creature he’d encountered in a good century. What could possibly be the problem? Here was Love, in it’s truest Earthly form presented on a silver platter. What more did she want? Yet still she ran, even in the face of her obviously overwhelming desire for the boy - though she cried even now at his loss. And they had been so close to consummating their love! It was a gorgeous and extremely arousing display. He’d rarely seen such unfettered passion among mortals – or immortals for that matter. For a moment there, he actually thought his work here was finished.
He sighed, deeply aggravated and ran a hand roughly through his wavy hair, sending the golden strands into chaotic disarray. It was definitely time to bring in the big guns…
“ Don’t do that, Darling. It makes you look like one of those ragamuffin surf-bums.”
Eros whirled, heart in his throat. Before him stood the glowing Goddess of Love herself. At nearly 3,000 she didn’t look a day over 30. Her long, fair hair cascaded down her shoulders, tiny flower blossoms weaved in among the strands and her ivory skin seemed to be alight with it’s own glow. As always he was completely awestruck by her beauty.
“ Mother! You startled me, I was just about to call on you.”
Aphrodite smiled indulgently at her wayward child, her rosebud mouth curling at the corner.
“ Yes My Dove, I know. I felt your frustration all the way in the other realm.”
He smiled back sheepishly.
“ That bad, eh?”
She patted his arm affectionately and winked.
“ A mother always knows, Poppet.”
He smiled at the radiant goddess and embraced her warmly. Her soft pink robes smelled like heavenly roses and fresh honeysuckle. He was instantly calmed by her presence, and sighed with contentment.
“ Over two thousand years old and I still find I need you.”
He laughed ruefully and shook his head.
“ Heavens forefend you should ever stop, Cherub.”
She cupped his face with her lily-white hand fondly. Smoothing his silky hair back into place she looked at him with eyes the exact color of the Aegean Sea.
“ Now what’s all this nonsense about the Slayer?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy made her way home in tears. She thought she’d cried it all out of her system on the walk back to her house, but she found them creeping up on her repeatedly. In the kitchen getting dinner, in the shower washing her hair and now brushing her teeth. It was getting ridiculous. She was just glad Mom and Dawn weren’t up to question her about it.
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about this right now.
She finished brushing and swiped angrily at her eyes with a tissue. She felt absolutely wretched. She had a headache from crying, her stomach was in knots, and to make things just that much more ultra-fun: she was irrationally horny. You’d think all the crying and misery would be enough to nip that right in the bud.
And what is a bud exactly anyway?
She thought nonsensically. But nooooo. Her body seemed to care less what was going on in her head. It only knew that it had been rudely interrupted, and it wasn’t finished yet. She’d found her hands lingering in naughty places all on their own during her shower. She’d felt too upset to do anything about it then. But now, as she lay down to sleep – feeling like she’d just downed a double-shot of espresso – she thought she might actually have to do something about it now. Or face yet another sleepless night.
Buffy sighed irritably and flipped over, fluffing her pillow with unnecessary force. She thought about calling Riley for a second, but an immediate flash of guilt cancelled out that idea. Not to mention that he might not (ahem) get the job done. She shoved her face into her pillow wanting to scream.
Why, oh why, did Spike have to be so good at that? I mean she had her suspicions before, but now – now she knew. And it was one thing to suspect and a whole ‘nother thing to know, ya know?
Oh Yeah. Definitely.
‘Cause now she knew how his voice got low and rough when he was aroused, and that his eyes turned so dark they seemed black. Now she knew what his mouth felt like on her skin. How his tongue felt as it teased her neck, licked her nipples and sank itself deep inside her. She felt herself getting wet just from the memory of it. His tongue was so cool on her hottest place. She longed for him to make her come that way, to feel his whole mouth on her, devouring her.
Bad brain!
She scolded. But Bad Buffy Brain didn’t seem to care. It had places to go, things to do – and they all involved Spike.
Just call me Amtrak.
She thought wryly. Oh, God – Riley! How was she ever going to face him again? After everything that happened tonight. After all she did with Spike. Jesus, she still couldn’t believe it herself. Tonight, in reality, she’d practically fucked Spike in a cemetery. She groaned into her pillow. Shady Glen was just never going to be the same.
The bad part was that it was good. Scratch that, it was incredible – the best ever. Or would’ve been if she’d actually let herself come. She pulled another pillow over her head, hoping to smother somehow. What’s worse was that more than she regretted cheating on Riley right now…
(and let’s be honest that was so cheating.)
She regretted not finishing things with Spike. And not just for her – for both of them. Alone in her bed she could admit that – a part of her desperately wanted to see the look on his face when she made him come, wanted to give him that pleasure. The thought of that look gave her a deep, tingling twinge. And she liked the feel of his cock in her hands, she could admit that too. It was so large and cool and so very hard. It made her want to get on her knees and take it in her mouth right there, right then – and she had never felt that way before. (Not even about Angel.) Then after that she wanted to throw him on the ground and slide it inside of her. Wanted to feel it filling her up, pushing against her womb, making her come and come. Like she knew he could, like he gladly would if she’d only let him. Buffy groaned into her bedding, imagining it all too vividly.
And why aren’t we letting him again?
Bad Buffy Brain asked innocently.
At the moment she was honestly stumped.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aphrodite listened intently to her son’s story. A tragic tale of frustrated love between a vampire and a Slayer – certainly one of the more unique tales she’d ever heard. And that was saying something. There was the time that Zeus turned himself into a swan and… her son’s voice interrupted this train of thought, fortunately.
“…So you can see my problem, Mother. Nothing seems to have worked yet. I’ve done all but shoot the both of them where it would do the most good.”
Eros frowned petulantly reminding her at once of the mischievous child he’d been not so long ago. She almost expected him to stomp his sandaled feet and howl like a banshee – a trick he’d picked up from Pan. It used to scare the Hades out of the local shepards, giving him no end of satisfaction. She smiled adoringly at him.
“ Now, now, My Lamb. Don’t work yourself into a Pan-ic.”
That drew a sideways grin from the boy.
“ I’d forgotten about that. Not that the denizens of Sunnydale would notice. Have you seen the amount of supernatural activity around here?”
He dismissed the thought and began pacing, troubled.
“ I just feel so wretchedly out of practice! I’ve done little but play lackey for the Gods and the Powers these many years. I’ve forgotten the way of things, Mother. I’ve forgotten Love.”
He placed his head in his hands, filled with regret. Aphrodite rose and put her arms around him, shushing and comforting. She raised his head from her shoulder gently and looked deeply into his clear azure eyes.
“ My Darling Boy – you have forgotten nothing. You were made from Love! You have only strayed from your path; as we all are want to do from time to time. Even we Gods.”
She wrapped her arm around him and continued their walk through the stillness of the cemetery.
“Has it never occurred to you that the Powers brought about this situation not only for these lovers, but for you as well?”
He shook his head wonderingly, and asked;
“ But why?”
Ah, the ignorance of youth.
She thought fondly, cupping his cheek.
“ So that you would be reminded of your calling, Eros! So you would return to your true path, inspired by Love once more.”
The boy goggled at the notion, stopping in his tracks. Revelation just dawning. A singularly beautiful smile crossed his face, lighting him up like a blaze of heavenly sunlight. Had any mortal seen it, it would have meant their doom…
A lifetime of unrequited worship at the feet of the God of Love.