Rough & Tumble – Chapter 07

“Mr and Mrs Rayne, this is William.” The woman from the social serviced pushed the young boy a step or two forward, and he stifly shook the couple’s hands.

Mrs. Porter had explained everything to him. Since his family had no close relatives and he was almost too old for adoption, they had looked for a family that would take care of him from now on.

He hadn’t been happy about that but the alternative was an orphanage.

The couple looked nice though. She was a petite blonde with sharp features and he was a tall, slightly skinny man with a charming smile.

“Hello William. Welcome to our home which will be your home from now on,” The woman beamed at him.

“Thanks, Ma’am,” William smiled thinly, stepping past the couple into the hall of their townhouse.

“Oh please, it’s Darla and Ethan. We’re a family, remember?”

William’s face darkened for a second. No way in hell would they ever be family. No matter what they tried. “Right,” He replied shortly.

“Great, so why don’t you come on in and we show you to your room and you can meet our daughter Drusilla.”

He shrugged indifferently, following the young woman upstairs. The house was held in light colors and had an overall friendly touch. His room was almost twice the size of his old room.

After he unloaded his bag and suitcase, they led him to the next room.

The second he saw the young girl, he was in love. Drusilla was 16, had long raven hair and the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. She sat crosslegged on her large fourpost bed, holding a porcelain doll in her delicate hands.

She stepped up to him in her long crimson dress and touched his cheek with her cool fingers. “I like this one,” she said and something dark and mischivious sparkled in her eyes.

The poems for Cecily were forgotten. Cecily was forgotten. If he had ever thought he’d been in love with that girl, those feeling here fading into nothingness beneath this black goddess.

***

“Okay, so tell me something about you. You’re not English, right?” Spike plopped down on his seat again, looking at Buffy with the same intense stare he sported for his opponents in the ring.

“Correct. I’m from sunny California. And I have to tell you, this weather is a drag down mood lane. But okay. Something about me. My name is Buffy Anne Summers. I’m from Sunnydale, California. I’m 22 and I’m studying contemporary art. My favorite color is pink and I love cheese. Anything else?” She flashed a wide smile at him, stroking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She couldn’t deny that she was happy that he had stayed with her. She wouldn’t be able to stand another one of those exits, just having him up and running like that. She knew that it was probably wrong, but something attracted her to him, even if was just the mind-blowing sex.

Spike was taken a little aback by her honesty but it was refreshing in a way. He wished that he could tell her about his life like that. But that was impossible. “No, I think that covers most of what I wanted to know.” He sipped from his coffee Agnes had just brought, studying the girl in front of him.

She seemed to have no problem telling him this whereas, he closed himself in behind his past. Her smile alone was so cheering that it made her surroundings glow. And her green eyes were sparkling. They were so full of life that it almost scared him.  Oh no, Spike. Don’t go there. Don’t start looking at her that way. You can’t do that and you know it. His inner voice was desperately trying to warn him, poking him in his subconsious side.

“Why?” he heard himself say. He wasn’t sure whether it was a question or the answer to his own thoughts.

“Why what?” Buffy pulled her eyesbrow up. She felt the situation warming as they were both easing up a little.

“Why did you help me that night? Why didn’t you just take me to a hospital and why didn’t you call the police?”

She looked at him for a moment before her gaze dropped down to her hands. That was what she’d been asking herself for the last ten days. “You said you didn’t want me to call an ambulance. And given what you do for a living.. I understand why now.”

“Yeah but.. why did you help me at all? I could be a killer.” And you are.

“I don’t know. I just.. did it. I didn’t think about it until later and still…” She shrugged. She still had no answer.

“Thank you.” Spike looked at her. He wasn’t sure what it was that he felt when she returned his gaze. Most of it was gratitude but also a good deal of confusion. Why did she trust a guy like him? He wasn’t exactly the type of guy you brought home to mom. She had put her trust in him although she didn’t know him. And now that she knew, she was still there.

“You’re welcome.” Again that smile. Spike had to look away quickly to keep himself from drowning in her eyes and that smile. He couldn’t let that happen.

***

A man can change massively in two years. He can settle down to have a family or decide that the lovely countryside suited him better then busy city.

And a boy can become a man.

William had never thought it would happen to that quickly. Or that drastically.

Ever since he’d moved in to the Rayne’s house, he had gone through subtle changes. After his parents had died, he’d felt hollow. Nothing had really mattered to him. But now he had Drusilla.

At first, he hadn’t told her about his feeling but somehow she had sensed it. She was the most beautiful and extraordinary person he’d ever come to meet. She understood him and what he’d been through. She had told him that Ethan wasn’t her biological father. He had died from cancer when she’d been ten. Shortly after, her mother had presented Ethan as her new dad.

Dru was his soulmate, he loved her with all his might. And he’d went through most of his changes just for her. He wore contacts instead of glasses, started wearing all black, and out of an alcohol induced mood-swing he had decided that peroxide blonde was the new hair color for him.

And with Dru, he’d had his first intimate experiences. They both knew they weren’t allowed since they’d been raised as almost siblings but whenever they had the house for their own, they clung together.

Since she was two years older, Dru had a little more experience and could show him things. She had given him his first orgasm and his first blowjob. If he hadn’t loved her before, he definitely would have then.

*

Yesterday had been his sixteenth birthday and Dru had made a whispered promise. Now they were alone in her room, lying in her bed, smooching.

Darla and Ethan were at a friend’s house for dinner and they wouldn’t be home until later that night.

Slowly, William ran his hands over her lean body. She had slipped out of her long dress, swaying her hips to a rhythm only she could hear.

He lay on his bad, covered only by the bedsheet, watching his black goddess gliding towards him. She straddled his waist, running her fingernails over his nipples. He had started to work out recently, bringing out some well-defined muscles here and there.

Gyrating her hips against his, she leaned over him and gave him a long and seering kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth.

“Would you like to taste me, my William?” she crooned, boring her eyes into his.

He gave a naughty little grin and felt himself hardening against her. He didn’t even need to say something in response, she knew that he loved to give her pleasure that way.

With a little twist of his hips, he flipped them over, bringing Dru beneath him, and started trailing kisses down her pale body. He teased her rosy nipples with his tongue, then travelled further down over her navel to her thighs.

She spread them a little, letting him have access. He nibbled on her milky white skin until he reached the apex of her thigh and dove between her silken folds. The smell and taste of her drove him almost insane with need. He wanted to please her more then anything.

And from the sounds she made, he was suceeding once again.  Her back arched from the bed and her hands were fisting the bedsheets beside her hips. He could sense that she was close.

“I want to feel you, my sweet William.” She ran her slender hand through his curly hair, pulling him towards her for another deep kiss.

William’s mind was reeling with lust driven anxiety. He looked at her, his body trembling with anticipation. She had indeed promised a surprise.

He knew that she was on the pill and he had never been with any other woman before. So he carefully settled his weight between her thighs and she guided him inside.

He had concentrate not to come from the pure sensation of being inside the woman he loved with all his heart. Slowly, he started moving, shallow thrusts at first to get a feel for it.

Then Dru took his hand to where their bodies were joined, urging him to touch her. He knew that he was close to release and he wanted to take her along; so he started massaging her just the way she liked it.

“William.”

The young man froze in place at the sound of the male voice. But he had no time to turn around as a strong hand closed around his bicep and hauled him off the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan kept hold of his arm.

Before he could even take a breath to say something, he saw the man’s fist whistling towards him.

Then everything went black.

***

They talked about this and that over another cup of coffee and another assortment of Agnes’ cookies.

Spike felt himself warming up to the girl no matter how hard he tried not to.

She was an intelligent young woman with a lot of wit. She smiled a lot and sometimes let out a girlish little giggle that made everything around her seem brighter for a moment.

It had been a long long time sicne he’d met someone like that. It was a nice contrast to what he was used to. It was a beam of sunlight amidst all the dark cold violence that ruled his life.

Everything around him was deserted and dark, the people he met, the place he lived it. It was all hollow shells, carved out by the lives they lived. Corrupted by dirty money, drained from blood and sometimes even the merest hope.

When you were part of this world it was almost impossible to ever get out again. If you didn’t play by the rules, you could be sure to end up drowing in a river or simply being shot in a dark alley where nobody gave a shit.

And here he was, after almost 6 years of hate and voilence and pain, and he made the worst mistake he could ever think of. He tried to push it away but deep at the core of his being he knew it already.

He was falling for her. Hard and fast.

***

Stars danced in front of his eyes as he blinked them slowly open. His head was throbbing and it took him almost a minute to remember what had happened.

Ethan had run in on them and then knocked him out.

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pulled him out of his thoughts. Dru.

In a second, he was a on his feet. Wobbling a little, he slipped into his jeans and then started out of the room and down the stairs. Another scream led him into the basement.

The picture would always stay with him, it was burned into the back of his mind of the rest of his life. Everything seemed to drop into slow-motion so he could see every little agonizing detail.

Ethan. Dru. His work bench. Him with his pants down. She on her stomach and still stark naked. He was groaning between his words; there were groans of pleasure. And she was screaming at the top of her lungs when she wasn’t sobbing or begging him to let her go.

“Shut up, you little bitch. You’re just like your mother, that stupid whore. She fucks around just like you do. Letting that little twit put it to you. I’ll show you.”

William snapped out of his shock as digust and white hot anger lurched up inside him.

Hate boiled in his veins, seering his heart. He felt something snap open inside him like floodgates, letting his emotions run rampant through his system.

“Get your hands off her.” His was voice was perfectly calm which made it a whole lot more dangerous than if he had screamed at Ethan.

Ethan’s head whipped around and he stared at the sixteen year old boy. “You. What do you think you can do to stop me?”

“I can kill you,” William replied in that same voice. Ethan had only time to let out an almost amused snort before the boy lurched himself at the man, driving him to the ground.

Fire blazed up in his blue eyes as he drove his fist into the Ethan’s jaw. He had never felt such raw energy and strength before, adrenaline was pumping through his veins.

Without a word, he let his fists hail down into his face. The man was looking bloodied and battered shortly after but William didn’t let him go.

He wanted to scream at him but couldn’t. All the hate and disgust and tears clouded his voice.

He stood and kicked him as hard as he could in the side. Finally, he found control of his vocal chords again. “Get up, you bastard. Get to your feet you bleedin’ piece of shit.” When Ethan didn’t move, he grabbed him by the hair, yanking him to his feet.

Ethan wobbled massively and then slowly pulled up his pants. “You won’t get away with that. How dare you strike me, you little son of a bitch.”

“How dare you lay your hands on my girl?” William’s voice had resumed it’s cruel calmess again.

“Your girl?” Ethan spit blood to the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His nose was bleeding, one lip was split and his left eye was swelling shut. “You think she thought of you when you fucked her? She’s a whore just like her mother. She fucks around. You’re just one of many. That isn’t your girl, you pathetic little wanker.”

“She belongs with me.” William growled. He knew that Dru had been with other guys before but it was him she loved. Ethan was just trying to taunt him.

The worst thing about, it was working. Anger roared up inside him and he flung himself at Ethan again.

But this time, the older man was faster. He reached for a set of golf clubs behind him, drew one out and swung it into William’s face.

The end of the club caught him over his left eye and blood blurred his vision. He was able to dodge the next blow despite his limited view. He took hold of the club and pushed it backwards, driving the handle into Ethan’s nose.

Bone shattered.

He ripped the club free from his hands, took it by the handle, turned in a full circle and aimed at Ethan’s head.

Rough & Tumble - Chapter 08

"Hey, you think our laundry is already done?" Buffy checked her watch, then looked up at Spike, catching him staring at her.

"What?" he asked a little flustered and she repeated her question. "I think I could use some fresh air, yeah." He stood and pulled a few pound notes out of his pocket.

But Buffy put her hand on her, stopping him in his tracks. "I'm paying. I asked you out, so it's my bill." She smiled that smile again and Spike felt his heart skipping a tiny beat. On his own accord, his thumb grazed the smooth skin of her hand and he saw little red dots erupting on her cheeks.

"Thanks." He found himself smiling back at her. It was thin smile but since he wasn't very used to it, it was something after all. And having her paying was a good thing, too, since he was always little tight for money.

Buffy shrugged casually, "No problem." They went over to the counter and she pulled her wallet out of her purse. "Uhm.. you mind if I have a word with Agnes? I'll be right outside in a minute."

Spike blinked first, then nodded. "Sure. I'll have a smoke meanwhile."

"Thanks," She beamed at him.

*

The rain had lessened a bit but it was still pouring down hard enough to blurr the contours of everything around. Spike stood under the small roof in front of the door. He lit a cigarette, blew the smoke out into the night, and watched it curl away in the downpour.

Then he risked a glance over his shoulder through the door of the cafe. Buffy still stood at the counter and was talking to Agnes, waving her hands animatedly. The soft light inside cast a golden halo around her, making her even more beautiful.

Spike, you have to stop thinking like that. What does it take to get you to do so? Just get it over with.But all the mental kicks in the side didn't help. The girl had something that dipped right into the core of his being. It struck something inside him that he had believed to be dead for quiet some time.

Not that he wasn't able to feel, but ever since that thing with Dru he had never been able to attach himself to anyone, to built up more than a casual relationship. What he had with women was just a one night fling, nothing more.

Ripper was more of a father for him. He'd been out with Doyle or some of the other guys who worked for Ripper. But that was about it. Nobody knew about his past, at least not everything. He had made up some story about him being the bad ass guy from the streets who just had to learn how to fight the hard way.

None of them knew what had made him this man, none of them should ever know it.

And still he felt this connection with Buffy. She was the first in a long long time who'd been able to slip past all his defenses, even though she might not know it. Calling him by his real name had opened a door to a secret chamber he had locked years ago.

He didn't want to fall for her. He tried not to, but he was never an expert when it came to emotions. His whole life had been lead by emotions, good or bad. It was what gave him strength, what made him survive for all those years. And now that those feelings had come up inside him, he wasn't able to reign them in. No matter how hard he tried, they would run free inside him. They would take the lead, and he hated it.

"Hey, you ready?" Buffy pulled the door open and Spike took a step back. He'd been watching her so intently that he'd missed that she was leaving the café. So she almost bounced into him.

"Uhm.. yeah." He tried to cover his insecurity by pulling on his cool-guy mask again but he knew that she'd cought him in the act again.

***

***

They went over into the laundromat; Spike held open the door for her. Ernie still sat in the corner with his nose buried in his newspaper.

"Agnes says she likes you," Buffy said when she opened the lid of the washing machine and started filling a little basket at her feet.

"She does?" Spike watched her from the corner of his eyes.

"Yeah. She thinks you're a nice guy."

He hesitated in his tracks of unloading his own laundry and looked at her. What was he supposed to say to that? "Must be true then," he replied then, his voice a bit flat.

She grinned at him and watched him sorting through his laundry. Then she caught sight of something crumbled and dark blue. "You kept the shirt," She blinked in surprise.

Spike followed her gaze down to his own hands, which held the damp shirt, the shirt Buffy had given him. He hadn't even realised he'd picked it up along with the other laundry; or that he had kept it anyway. The last time he'd seen it, he'd thrown it into that trashcan. "Yeah, guess I did," He frowned at the shirt. Was this thing enchanted or what?

"You can keep it if you want," Buffy said. She was a little surprised that he still had it. After his exit that day, she had expected him to throw it away.

"Oh no, I…" He frowned again and crumbled the shirt a bit more between his hands. He felt heat rising in his cheeks and tried to will it away. God, he hated this. He wanted to run away, run away and hide somewhere. Somewhere where nobody could see him softening.

"Spike? You okay?" She asked a little concerned, registering the slight greenish tone around his nose.

"Yeah, I'm just…" Spike waved his hand in a vague gesture. "I think it was little too much caffeine for one evening," He lied.

Buffy knew he wasn't telling her the truth. He was acting a little ansty around her ever since they had left the café. "Uhm.. if you want, you can.. uhm.. I have something else to drink.. in my apartment."

***

Rough & Tumble - Chapter 09

Spike blinked his eyes open, one at a time.

Something pink and furry blocked his vision, so he couldn't see very much. He shifted a bit and found himself on a soft and warm surface: a matress, and definitely not his own. His fingers took hold of a short, thin blanket that was draped over him up to his waist.

He turned a bit more on his back and blinked again. The pink something was a little stuffed pig that was watching him with beady black eyes. Soft light filtered into the room, dipping into a comforting glow. A slight smell of peaches lay in the air.

"Where am I?" He mumbled into the pillow under his head.

"You're in my bed." The bed shifted as Buffy settle down beside him and the smell of coffee seeped into his system.

"How did I get here?"

"We had wild hot monkey sex until my neighbors called the police."

Spike grinned. "Then why am I fully dressed?"

"Cause I asked you to get me some chocolate chips ice cream from the 24/7 a block away. And when you came back, you just fell asleep."

His grin turned into a full-fledged smile. He turned on his back and then sat up. "You're a horrible liar. But that coffee smells really tempting. Mind if I have a sip?" He looked at her. She was dressed in a pair of cut-off sweats and a black tank top. Her hair was held up in a bun at the back of her head. She wore no make-up and she looked even more pretty than the night before.

"Sure, it's yours anyway." Buffy handed him the mug of steaming coffee and their fingers lingered a little longer against each other then necessary. She could feel the almost literal sparks flying between them.

He looked cute this morning - as far as you could call a guy with scars and tattoos all over his body cute in any case. His hair was a tousled mass of harsh blond curls and his eyes were still a little sleepy. She had watched him sleeping last night. He had mumbled some incoherent words and his nose was twitching every now and then. Seeing him like that had taken a lot of the harsh edges away, made him look more… real.

"Thanks, luv." Spike took a sip, the coffee clearing his mind from its sleepy haze.

"You're welcome." She smiled and fumbled with the hem of her shirt.

They sat in silence for a while as he drank his coffee. Slowly, he remembered going up to her apartment last night after their laundry was dry. They had sat in the living room, talking over a bottle of beer for him and a cup of tea for her. It had just been random stuff, she had told him about her college life and the city she came from. But over the course of a few hours, he had warmed up for her even more. Thinking of that, he felt a little twitch somewhere below his beltline. Oh no, please not. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, you know where it is."

He nodded and got out off the bed, disappearing into the hallway.

"Oh, you can take a shower if you want to," she called after him, and then sank back into the pillows.

This thing was getting stranger and stranger. First, they shagged, then they talked and now he was using her shower. It was all out of order and from that last look he'd given her, it might get worse.

*

After releasing himself, Spike decided that it was definitely time for a shower. Out of various reasons. Being in a bed with her - even though they'd been both fully dressed and with a blanket between them - had tipped off some sort of testosterone laden alarm inside him. The mere thought of what might happen between them made him hard.

He cursed under his breath and stripped out of his clothes, discarding them to a pile in the floor. Then, he stepped into the shower and turned the water on. It felt incredibly good to have hot water running down his body. For almost five minutes, he stood there, marvelling at the luxury of taking a hot shower. He soaped his body and hair, then let the water rinse the foam off. At least the heat in his body was wearing off a little. He didn't dare to take care of that in other people's shower.

"Hey, I forgot to give you a towel." He heard Buffy's voice from the other site of the shower wall and froze. On his own accord, his erection sprang back to life. Oh no, this wasn't good. At all.

"Thanks," he mumbled and rubbed at his eyes, trying to think innocent thoughts.

"I'll put it on the peg here."

"Yeah." At the same time, he opened the door. Steam and a cloud of mist billowed out of the shower. Spike's hand closed around Buffy's wrist while she was putting the blue and white striped towel on a peg beside the shower.

She looked at him in surprise; trying hard to keep her eyes in his face and not on the glistening wet beauty of his naked body. "What?" she managed to say before he pulled her towards him.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to attack you like that again but…"

Buffy stepped into the shower and her clothes were immediately soaked to her skin. She looked up at him as he ran his fingers over her damp hair. He tilted her head to one side and crushed his lips on hers in a heated kiss. It was deep and slow at first but then became more and more passionate.

Spike pushed her against the wall, running his hands over her body. His erection became more and more prominent. He tried to stop himself but couldn't. His hormones had taken the lead. He wanted this girl, right then and there, just like he had the other day.

Buffy responded to his kiss equally eager. She pressed her body up against his, rubbing her thigh between his legs. He groaned against her mouth, shoving his hands under her shirt.

The breath hitched in her throat when his fingers grazed her nipples and he started teasing them. She wrapped her right leg around his hips, pulling him closer. His cock was probing at her cloth- clad mound.

Pictures of their first encounter flashed through her mind and fueled her arousal even more. She knew that it was probably a step down the wrong road, but it was probably too late anyway.

Before she knew it, Spike had yanked her top over her head, exposing her to his hands and mouth. His kissed trailed down the side of her neck until he reached her nipple and sucked it into his mouth.

Buffy melted into him, leaning against him. Her mouth opened in a wordless gasp, rubbing her pelvis against his.

Spike looked up at her, his eyes boring into her's. The blue had blackened with lust and desire.

She was still panting, the swallowed. "Bedroom?" She gasped. And he nodded.

*

They landed on the bed in a tangle of wet limbs. The bed sheet beneath them soaked through immediately, but they didn't care. They continued kissing, the air around them heating up more and more.

Buffy's hand slid over his back, feeling the muscles rippling underneath his skin. She wanted him, wanted to feel him again. But she wanted to draw it out a little bit more than their first time.

As if he'd read her thoughts, he pulled away from her and looked her into the face. His voice was ragged and he had to swallow first. "I.. I don't want to sound like a total git but.. can we take it slow?"

As a reply, Buffy smiled up at him, pushed him on his back, and then stood.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, started to doubt this decision. But he forgot his words as she stripped out of her sweats and panties. She didn't know where the sudden self-esteem came from but that didn't matter, too. A crimson blush rose on her cheeks as she felt his eyes on her naked body.

Spike stood as well, standing right in front of her. He'd sensed her insecurity. He licked his lips and ran a hand through her damp hair. It had come undone during the process.

He had no idea why he'd wanted to go slow - he was so hard that it hurt - but he didn't want to rush into this again.

Slowly, he lowered his lips to her's. This kiss was slow and sensual. Their lips grazed over each others, meeting in slow motion. Their tongues tangled in a leisurely dance.

His hands slid over her back down to her butt. He pressed against her, their naked bodies melting into each other.

Carefully, he lowered her on the bed again, gliding over her body. His hand caressed her skin, teased her breast, and then slid between her thighs.

Buffy arched against his touch and she let out a soft moan. His fingers dipped between her silken folds, feeling the sweet wetness there.

Her arm reached over to the bedside table and for the drawer, she pulled it open and fingered a string of condoms out.

"Now you're prepared, huh?" Spike smirked down at her and she blushed even more.

"Do I seem that desperate?"

"No, you're perfect," he said, realising seconds later that he'd said. But he refused to take it back either.

The moment stretched between them and he feared getting lost in her eyes.

Buffy broke the contact first. She ripped one of the tinfoil packages open and with slightly quivering hands, she rolled the condom over his throbbing member.

He pulsed underneath her fingers and a shudder rippled through his body. He leaned into her for a kiss and moved his body over her, supporting his weight in his arms.

She guided him to her entrance and he carefully thrust inside, taking the time to let her adjust. He never stopped looking at her and what she saw in his eyes scared her a little. It was something so deep and profound that she couldn't put a finger on it.

Being inside this woman was the best feeling he had in quiet some time. Her body was lean and firm, and she held onto him so tight that he couldn't move at first. She was burning all around him, searing his flesh and soul.

This wasn't possible; she couldn't rock his world, and shatter his walls in such a way with just being around him. He had never felt anything like this before.

Slowly, he started to move inside her, long and deep thrusts that explored her depths more and more.

Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him further inside. She arched her back, meeting his thrusts halfway. She raked her fingernails over his back, evoking a moan from his lips.

His thrusts became a little faster and he slipped a hand between their bodies, touching the little bundle of nerves between her folds.

"Oh my god," she gasped, leaning into the touch. Her body started humming with the low pressure inside her stomach. She felt it rising from her center and it spread through her entire system like a wildfire.

Spike felt her shuddering underneath him; her inner walls started quivering around his cock. He wanted her to come, wanted to have her as much pleasure as possible.

Their rhythm sped up a bit more and he applied more pressure with his fingers.

Buffy bit her lip, trying to keep her moans at bay but she didn't succeed. With a little shriek, she came around him. She arched up against him, drawing out the orgasm as far as possible.

Her inner walls clenched down hard on him, squeezing him tightly. It took him only a few more thrusts to come as well. His body went rigid, his muscles standing out in thick cords. Instead of closing his eyes to bath in the sensation, he looked down at her.

Something inside him snapped open and he knew that she would see all his emotions on his face right now. And he knew that it was dangerous. To stop himself from saying it aloud, he leaned into her for a kiss.

It was a serious of small kisses, tasting each other's lips, dwelling in the aftermath.

The air around them glowed with heat and the sensual energy that radiated from the couple. Spike was still buried deep inside her and slowly rocked against her, sending little shudders of post-coital pleasure through her body.

They stayed like that for a while until he finally pulled out of her, immediately missing the warmth of her body.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, then stood and disappeared into the bathroom to deposit the condom.

*

On his way back, Spike caught sight of himself in the mirror. His cheeks had a rosy glow. He looked more calm and relaxed than he had in a long time. He sighed at the thought. He had slid into something completely out of his control. And yet, this thing with Buffy…

He had no idea what it was. It just felt incredibly good.

*

When he came back into the bedroom, Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, buttoning up the blue shirt she'd pulled out of his pile of clean clothes. That thing really seemed to haunt him.

"Hey." Buffy smiled at him. But this time it was hesitant and insecure.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly realising that he was still stark naked. He usually wasn't very self-conscious about his body but this time it was different. So he sorted through his laundry, pulled out a pair of washed out blue jeans and slipped into them.

Then, he sat down beside her on the bed. An awkward silence settled between them. Spike wanted to say something but he didn't know what. It was all so twisted and complicated.

Five minutes ago they'd been a tangle of heated flesh, there had been a connection between them (and not only physical) and they both knew it. And now, harsh reality was creeping into this little scene, disrupting it, pulling them both back to the ground.

"What time is it?" Spike asked then.

"Almost 10.30."

He cursed under his breath. "Shit, I have to go." He stood and pulled another clean shirt from the pile.

"Spike?" Buffy said, a pleading edge to her voice. He stopped in his tracks, the shirt bunched halfway up his arms. Turning, their gazes met and she looked at him with those big green eyes, and he already knew what she was going to ask next. It was inevitable. "Will I see you again?"

He turned away from her again and sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."

"That's what I thought you'd say." Buffy couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

A surge of anger roared up inside him and he faced her again. "God, what do you want me to say?"

"Well, I don't know," she snapped back.

Silence, thick and heavy, fell between them. Spike stared down at the floor. He had his hands propped up on his hips and tried to think of a way to get out of this. But he reacted badly to confusions and situations he couldn't control.

"When is your next fight?" She asked then, her eyes firmly fixed on him. She hated this. It had all gone so well until now.

"Saturday."

"I want to come and watch."

Now, Spike looked at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?"

"I want to be at your fight," she repeated.

"Oh no, you won't." He made a step forward, towering over the young woman.

"Yes, I will. I want to see why you don't know if you can see me again."

"No, I won't fucking let you." Spike's eyes glowed with anger. He didn't want to shout at her, but once the door was open…

"Well, it's not your decision."

"Yes. It damn well is." He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Buffy, listen. This is not the fun stuff you've seen on TV. There are no fancy theme songs or whatever." He knew that he was telling her more then he should, but it was too late for precaution anyway. "You don't know what it is like. The people I'm dealing with, they are dangerous. They can snap your neck in a heartbeat and they won't loose a second's sleep about it. Being with me.. just knowing me and what I do, it can get you killed. And I don't want you to get hurt." He hoped that it would persuade her. But it didn't.

"I'm old enough to take care of myself." She gave him a challenging look, letting out the brat inside her.

Anger flared up inside him again. "Bloody hell, Buffy. Don't you get it? What I do is illegal. The people around me are murderers and worse. This is not some freaking adventure game. This is real. If you don't know how to play by their rules, you'll wind up dead. And I can't let that happen."

Old wounds were tearing open, wounds he'd thought to be closed for a long time. A girl had gotten hurt because of him, a girl he'd loved. And he was not going to let that happen again.

"Why?" Buffy asked simply. She'd seen the change in his face, the fear, and the confusion. He wasn't good at hiding those. God, this was all so twisted. Why couldn't she meet another boring guy like Riley? No, instead she had to meet a man like Spike and it all had to be majorly complicated.

"Damn it. Cause I think I love you, okay?" It took him a second or two to register what he'd just said. Again, his tongue had betrayed him. He had never meant to tell her for he wasn't even sure himself. Never before had somebody gotten under his skin in such a way. Not since Dru. It wasn't right, he knew it, but he couldn't help it.

"You think? Is that a matter of choice now?" Buffy snapped, trying to cover her surprise. This wasn't exactly what she had expected him to say. Everything, but not that.

"God, I don't know, okay?" Suddenly, his anger evaporated and his shoulders sagged. "Look, this thing with you.. this is not me. I just…" Words stuck in his mouth. How could he explain? "I can't do this." He shook his head and turned away from her. The words to express his feelings refused to come when her eyes were so intent upon him.

"Spike…" Her voice was calm again as she tried to get him to talk. Her thoughts were circling around his words. He loved her?

"I've never felt anything like this before, you know? I know you for what? Two days, all in all. And I.. all I can think about… It's driving me insane but I can't stop thinking about you ever since we met. I don't know what it is." His voice was shaking with effort. He could talk for hours, could ramble about everything. But talking about his feelings… It brought him right back to the point where this whole mess had started. The day he'd sat in poetry class, trying to write down the words that described what he felt. And here he was again, twelve years later, and he hadn't changed a bit.

"But.. when you.. why can't I see you again?" Irritation showed in Buffy's words. She wanted to throw herself around his neck, just to show that it was okay. She had no idea what her feelings for him were, it was all a jumbled mass inside her, but hearing him say those words…

"Because." He whirled around again, looking at her. Buffy could have sworn that there were tears in his eyes. "Look at you, Buffy. Look at the world you live in. It's all bright and peachy and vanilla coated. You don't know what my world is like. My world is… it's like a fridge at midnight and the light bulb burns out." Okay, so he wasn't an expert with analogies but he knew that this one was probably the worst ever.

"It leaves you hungry?" Buffy, queen of wit. Way to go.

Spike stared at her for a second. "It's dark. And it's cold." After another second, he added, "And it leaves you hungry." He sighed. "It's no place for a woman like you."

Silence fell between them again. They just looked at one another, trying to figure out how they had gotten here. They had both stumbled into a situation totally out of their range. And with his confession thrown into the mix, it wasn't getting any easier.

Finally, Buffy spoke. "If.. if you have those feelings for me, you'll let me watch. I want to know what kind of man you are." It wasn't making any sense, not even to her. But it was the only way, and they both knew it. "I want to see if there is a chance."

Again, he just looked at her. After all he'd told her, and still it was just a small part of the whole truth, any other woman would have been running and hiding. But Buffy still wanted to come to the fight. He knew that he was about to make a mistake. A big mistake. And a dangerous one, too.

He sighed deeply. "I'll give you the number of a guy. Call him and tell them that you're with me. He'll get you in." Buffy gave him a little notepad and a pen, and he scribbled down a number and a name.

"Thanks." She smiled at him, trying to reassure him a little. It didn't do much.

"I'm sorry. I need to go." Spike fully dressed again, slipping into his coat that he'd left on the couch last night.

Buffy lead him to the door. "Don't worry about me, okay?" She looked at him with big eyes.

"I do," Spike replied simply. "And that's the problem." With that, he leaned into her and gave her a short kiss on the lips. Then, he disappeared down the stairs.

Rough & Tumble - Chapter 10

Spike's back hit the raw bricks opposite his door, and the breath flew out of him. He had the time to blink before a large arm jammed against his chest, pinning him to the wall.

Half a minute ago, he had unlocked his door with a bag of groceries in his hand. Now, the bag and it's contents lay scattered on the floor and a man twice his size was squeezing the matter out of his ribs.

It took him a second or two to shape his thoughts around the turn of the situation.

"Where have you been, Spike?" came the cool and clear voice of Ripper. He stepped out of Spike's apartment, his hands behind his back. He had his head tilted to one side and looked him with a cruel calmness.

"Me? I'm.. how did you get in?" Spike was too surprised to answer right away.

"I have a key, Spike. Who do you think I am? Where have you been? We had an appointment and you didn't show up."

Yeah, Spike did remember. That's why he had left Buffy. He had planned to call Ripper when he got home. He hadn't known that the man had a key to his apartment, that he could come and go whenever he wanted. Scary thought. But Spike remained silent.

Ripper took another step forward and nodded towards the guy. "Let him go." Then, he smiled at Spike. "You've been with a girl, haven't you?"

Spike blinked. "How did you…"

"You smell like peaches." Ripper leaned into him and sniffed. "Tell me, who is she?"

Finally, Spike regained his senses and swallowed. He was walking on thin ice now. He had to be very careful not to let anything slip. So he slipped into his role, the one Ripper knew. "Just a girl," He shrugged. "Picked her up on the street and fucked her." He quirked his lip in a Billy Idol fashion, hooking his thumbs into the loops of his jeans. He leaned more casually against the wall and cocked his head to one side.

Ripper seemed to consider that but Spike doubted that he would believe him. The older man had a kind of insight in him that scared him sometimes. "If you wanted a girl, you could have told me," he said then.

Spike shrugged again and grinned an evil little grin. "Needed a quick fix. No need to bother you."

Ripper laughed at that. "Spike, you're like a son to me. If you want anything, you have to let me know. I want you to be in good shape."

"Alright," Spike nodded. He fought hard to keep his steel-cool façade in place. He was a good actor, at least in this role. Over the course of a little more than ten years, he had had the time to make this role perfect. He lived and breathed it, and he almost believed it himself. But since he had met Buffy, he had come to realise that it was still just another character that he played.

"So.. since I'm already hear, we can talk now." Ripped pat him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the door to his apartment.

"Yeah, come on in," Spike said although the older man had already closed the door behind him, leaving the other guy outside.

"Willy called me last night," Ripper said casually, strolling through the room.

"Willy?" Spike frowned.

"You remember that small skinny fellow? Face like a rat?"

"Yeah." He busied himself with a look into the fridge. He felt highly uncomfortable in Ripper's presence. Having him on his home turf, where he was vulnerable, couldn't be a good thing.

"He has a new fighter and wanted to set something up." Ripper pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down.

"So?" His monosyllabic answers should keep any suspicions at bay. At least Spike was hoping so.

"Yeah. He says the guy is eager to fight. Especially you. I made an appointment for next Friday. That okay with you?"

Spike shrugged. What was the man expecting him to say? "Yeah, whatever. What's the guy's name?" He leaned against the fridge and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look bored.

"Real name is Liam, but he calls himself Angel."

Spike snorted. "Angel? Who is that wanker? A fuckin' ballerina?"

Ripper smiled. "I don't know. I haven't met him before. But I think you'll beat him anyway, right?

He looked at the older man, trying to figure what he wanted to hear. "I'll do my best."

Ripper stood and approached him slowly, almost menacingly, "You better should." His voice was dry and calm and his eyes rested like bricks on Spike. "Before I forget, you remember what I said about distractions. I don't like the thought of loosing a whole lot of money just because you don't give me 100%. If there is anything with that girl and it's interfering in any way, I advice you to stop it before it starts."

Spike looked at him for a long second before he replied. "There's nothing. Just a girl." He kept his voice neutral but doubted that he would believe him.

"Well then," Ripper said, "I'm glad we got that settled then." He pat Spike on the shoulder. "I'll see you tonight for the training."

"Yeah."

*

After Ripper was gone, Spike stuffed his groceries away. His stomach rumbled in protest and he made himself some instant pasta.

As he sat down at the table and stirred the mass of noodles in the little plastic cup, his thoughts trailed back to Buffy.

***

Buffy weighed the phone in her hand, staring at the number Spike had given her. She knew that it was the only way. If they wanted to have anything like a relationship, she had to go to the fight. She had to see the world Spike lived in.

Slowly, she dialed the number and took a deep breath.

"Doyle," said a male voice at the other end.

"H-hello?" Buffy's voice was shaking a little and she swallowed.

"Yeah, who's there?" The man had a strong Irish accent but sounded friendly.

"I'm B…" Her brain suddenly cut in, giving her the idea that it probably wasn't the best decision to give this man her real name. "Beth," she said instead, cursing inwardly that she hadn't thought about that before. "My name is Mary Beth. I'm.. I'm a friend of Spike."

Doyle chuckled quietly. "You're the girl he shagged, huh? What can I do for you, honey?"

Buffy hesitated. Spike had told this man about what they had done? Great.

"I.. want to be at his next fight. He told me to call you."

"Ah yeah, you wanna come on Saturday?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, just come to the club at 10. I'll wait for you and get you in." He gave her the address of one of the worst parts of town.

"Thanks, I know where that is."

"Great. See you on Saturday then."

The connection went dead and Buffy stared at the phone for a long moment. It was still nagging a at her that this guy already knew who she was. Had Spike been bragging about it? She had to ask him about that the next time she saw him. Saturday, at the fight she didn't know what to expect and that thought scared her a little.

Slowly, she went back into the bedroom. The bed was still warm and smelled of their mating as she curled up on the matress and pulled the blanket around her. Her thoughts trailed to the point this morning where they had been here together, when he'd been inside her. The way he had looked at her with totally open and honest eyes, the way she had almost lost herself in that gaze. And the way that he had told her that he loved her. Was that even possible? After the brief time they had spent together?

And yet, she had feelings for him, too. It wasn't love but she felt something for him. There was something about him that attracted her. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, made her insides tingle with a strange sort of anticipation. She just had to find out what it was she felt.

***

Saturday night; night of the fight. Buffy's stomach was twisting in knots as she climbed out of the cab that had taken her down to the club.

She had geared up in her best club-sluttish outfit, black leather pants, and a tight black top along with a pair of high-heeled boots. Her hair was flowing in long curls over her shoulders and her lips glittered in a deep sensual red.

Slowly, she approached the door to the shabby building. A man in his late twenties stood outside the door, wearing old jeans, a Hawaaian shirt, and a leather jacket. He smiled at her as she came closer (but considering her outfit, who wouldn't).

"You're Beth, right?"

"Please, just call me B," Buffy replied. She wanted to make sure that she heard it when somebody was calling her name.

"Your call. I'm Doyle. Come on in then, the fight's about to begin in a few minutes."

Doyle held out the door for her and led her inside. The place was dark. They could have been in a basement and she wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. After a walk through several corridors, they entered the main room.

The center was occupied by a boxing ring, a simple square of wood and ropes. Around the ring, dozens of tables were scattered. The place was packed with people of various races, shapes, and wealth.

"You better stay here at the bar. This place can get pretty rough for a girl like you. I'll get back to you when the fight is over."

Buffy was more than comfortable with that plan, so she nodded and slipped onto one of the empty stools at the bar.

*

Suddenly the place went dark. When a single spotlight came on, a man in a tux stood in the middle of the ring.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight you will witness another thrilling event. I hope all your bets are place and we can get started. In the right corner," a thrumming drumbeat came from a set of large loudspeakers overhead. "Gooooorrrrgeeeous…Geeeoooorge." Another spotlight illuminated a large blocky man, an impressive belly hanging over his belly. "And in the other corner, the almost undefeated champion.. ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Spiiiike."

The audience erupted into a whoop of hollering and clapping. Buffy felt as if she was attending a rock-concert or something. The air in the club thrummed with the excitement of the audience. She couldn't make out the word of the tuxedo clad man in the din of the room and she doubted that anyone else could.

Spike stood in his corner, a white tank-top covering his steel-hard torso. The two fighters were a study in contrasts and Buffy felt a twinge of fear. She couldn't believe that this was going to be a fair fight.

The referee was talking quietly to the opponents and they nodded. Just as he was about to start the fight, Spike cast a glance through the room. His eyes caught Buffy and saw concern flickering over his features. And just a split second later, a hard punch caught him square in the jaw.

She clamped her hand over mouth, keeping a terrified shriek in. Her eyes widened in fear.

She had never seen a real fight before and it scared the hell out of her. And seeing Spike being involved in one didn't make it any better. But what she witnessed over the next fifteen minutes scared her even more.

Spike rose to his full height (he wasn't much more than 5'10'' but something about him seemed to make him grow). A veil of dark, wicked energy shrouded him, lying around him like a cloak. His face darkened and with a swift motion, he stripped out of his shirt, exposing his smooth skin.

Buffy watched him with a sick sort of fascination. This wasn't the man she had got to know the other day. This wasn't the man who had made love to her. The way he approached his opponent reminded her of an animal. An animal, a wildcat, pacing through the tight confines of a cage, ready to break out.

Spike's fist smashed the other man's face into a bloody pulp, though he also took some serious blows; his body slowly covered in blood.

In the third round, Spike headed for the death strike. He pulled back from George, giving the man some space to recover. When he approached him again, something dark and primal flickered in his eyes. With a quick blow of his left hand, he sent George sprawling to the ground.

Spike stood over the man, breathing hard. His body shone with sweat and he wiped some blood off his nose. He looked hot in a way, striking all the feral chords inside her, but at the same time he scared her. It was as if he went through a weird kind of schizophrenic metamorphosis, as if he became a totally different person.

"B? You okay?" Doyle stood by her side, looking at her with a concerned frown.

Buffy snapped out of her daze and blinked. "Yeah, sorry. I was just spaced out."

"That's okay. So.. you're going with us down to the pub?"

"No, I…," Buffy hesitated. "Can you tell Spike something from me?"

"Sure. But I can take you to him if you want to."

"No, it's alright. Just.. tell him to come to my place. I need to speak to him."

She reached into her purse and fumbled with her keys for a moment. "And give him this." She gave him a spare key for her door.

"Okay, your call. Come on, I'll call you a cab."

As they left the club, Buffy caught sight of Spike, still standing in the ring, talking to a man in a grey business suit. He glanced over to her; his eyes had a lost and sad expression, hollow somehow. With a blink of his eyes, he gave her a silent nod, letting her know that he'd seen her.

Buffy missed seeing Ripper turned around, and watch her leave the club.