Buffy/Spike fanfiction [6/02] Post Season 6 ( Decided to combine all three
chapters into one story so it won't be so confusing-thnx Atterb for letting
me know that. BtVS characters are so complex. I hope I was true to Buffy's
character. I did what I could. All characters belong to Whedon and ME)
STAY, UNTIL THE SUN RISES: AWAITING
The night chill took care of her, cooled her as her body was in a heated chase after a newly awakened vamp dressed in a rumpled suit. She sped through the cemetery with a quickness only the Slayer possesses, her wooden stake easily clutched in her hand as she swiftly leapt over gravestones and dodged trees with sharp agility.
Her panting was heavy, drowning out the cricket songs that hung in the air with the tree branches. But she wouldn't listen to them sing. Her focus was firmly set on her target as it dashed through the night, searching for refuge from the one human his kind fears. She accelerated when she saw a grave stone ahead of her, ultimately deciding to use it as a jumping off point.
She cart wheeled through the air, her foot arrowed straight into the vampire's back, sending him flying and landing hard on to the ground. She rushed to him before he could get up, but was unprepared when his leg sprung up, giving one powerful kick into her abdomen.
She flew; her back against the wind as her body was limp. Her heart sunk, half used to, half fearing the unknown of her landing.
Suddenly, arms from behind caught her along with a familiar scent of cigarettes and whiskey, and they landed backwards on to the crisp grass.
"I got you Slayer."
The voice, English and intimate, caused a jolt in her gut that frightened and eased her at the same time.
His arms were protectively taut around her tensed body even after the impact. When she turned her head, her gaze meeting his, locking to the very blue of his eyes, her breath hitched at the surprise of him.
"I got you." He said at whisper.
Spike.
Buffy awoke to a jerked gasp as she was startled back into reality. Her eyes were half opened and sleepy as they scanned, reorienting herself to her surroundings. When she saw she was alone in Spike's crypt, only seeing silver moonlight bounce off the concrete walls, she quietly sighed, slouching back on to the muddy colored couch, and hugged her knees close to her chest.
"He hasn't come back yet. It's only me."
Startled that she wasn't alone with the privacy of her dream, she jumped to her feet and turned towards the friendly demon behind her.
"Clem! Hey! Who? Oh, Spike? No." Her movements, like her speech, were awkward; her hands tugging at the hem of her denim jacket, then crossing her arms over her breasts. "I wasn't waiting for Spike. I told you before. I get a little tired sometimes, you know, from patrolling."
Clem stood casually by the refrigerator, munching on a bag of spicy cheese fries. Powdered cheddar stained his flipper-like hands, even sprinkled on to his green vest. He listened unconditionally as Buffy dispensed her usual lame excuse of why she's at Spike's crypt. Almost every night for about a month since he left, Clem either bumped into her on her way out, or would find her on the couch in a dream brewed sleep where he'd hear the name escape her lips.
Other nights he wouldn't come by, leaving her be with her thoughts and the longing she constantly denied. She knew, just as much as he did, that she was waiting.
But he never asked questions or meddled in anyone else's affairs with out their consent. Despite his appearance of loose, hanging peach skin and crooked teeth that would scare at first sight, he was a dear friend who always stood unwavered.
She tucked a loose strand of her blond hair behind her ear, crossed her arms again. "This is the only place in the cemetery I know of with a couch, so I thought I'd get a little shut eye before heading out again."
"Well why don't you lie down on the sarcophagus. I'll give you the softest pillows and---"
"--No. Thanks." He had the kindest voice she thought. "Now that you're here I'll be out of your way."
"Are you sure? This is my place until he gets back, so my rules. Stay. How about something to eat? Cheese fry?"
He's not coming back. So why am I always here? She muttered in her thoughts as he offered her the bag.
"No, thank you, really. I better check if Dawn is up watching some gory horror flick."
"Ooh, I told her to stop watching those Jason movies. They scare the living daylights outta me."
"Yeah." She turned towards the exit, glanced back once with a smile. "Good night."
"Good night."
Then she reached the handle to the door and hesitated. "Um, Clem?"
"Yes Buffy."
Thank you for being so understanding, she wanted to say as the door creaked open, moonlight slicing the dark like a knife. "Thanks."
"Anytime." He knew what she meant.
**********
She stood over the threshold of the back door of her home, taking one last glimpse behind her. She didn't want to hear foot steps, but swore she almost could from far away. She told herself it was nothing, that the only sound heard was the stars twinkling like tiny bells in the thick blanket of sky.
Closing the door behind her, she then crept through the shadows of the house, up to Dawn's room.
"Dawn, you should be asleep." The motherly tone in her voice was fixed on her sister, who was reading a teen magazine under thin light, then tossed it aside when Buffy walked in.
"I was waiting up for you. You've been coming home later than usual." Buffy sat at the edge of the bed, raked her fingers through the long silk of Dawn's roasted brown hair.
"You know how it is. Creatures of the dark only come out at dark." Dawn sunk under the sheets as her sister tucked her in.
"When can I go patrolling with you again?"
"Don't worry. You have two months before school starts. That's plenty of nights to get in on the action." She switched off the lamp beside Dawn, the single moon beam beyond the glass polished their faces. "Now sleep."
"You were at Spike's, weren't you?"
Buffy was rising, but plunked herself back down on to the mattress. "What?"
"Clem said you like to 'nap' there."
"That's right. I get tired, so I just use his place to rest for awhile. And?"
"Its okay, you know. You could tell me the truth. How can you still want him?" Freckles swam in her white skin, her face saddened, voice flat.
"Who? Clem? Nice guy, but my epidermis is too tight for him. I could freak him out."
"Stop acting like you don't know who I'm talking about. Spike!"
Buffy licked her lips, inhaled then exhaled quickly to collect her thoughts. "Dawn, get this straight." Her tone was hard edged, firm. "I don't miss Spike." She said at length. "I don't need him, never did."
"I'm glad he's gone, after what he tried to do to you. I hope he never comes back."
Buffy couldn't help the feeling of guilt roll in her tummy. But she used excuses as a shield. "It's my fault. Chip or no chip, I should've remembered he's still a vampire, a creature of evil. It's in his nature to do things like what he did. I should've expected it." There was disappointment in her green eyes going dark, lowering them on to her fidgeting fingers. "Why he left, I don't know. But he's gone and I doubt he'll be coming back any time soon." She said briskly as she walked to the door.
"Then I don't know why you keep waiting for him."
Buffy shut the door asking herself the same question.
**********
The moonlight poured over her a she stood patiently by the window, gazing out thoughtfully into the deserted night, her hands clasped together against her beating heart.
Countless nights like this one, the lights of her room off, she'd stand quiet by her window, or even just sitting at the edge of her bed, sometimes forgetting to remove her worn out clothes, dirty from vampire dust.
She was comfortable tonight though, dressed in a white tank top and flannel, pajama pants; her arms bare to savor the subtle wind of the air conditioning.
Her awareness constantly heightened, mind free as her gaze drifted in no where particular outside, anticipating any signal, a sound, a movement of shadow he might offer.
Nothing.
The neighborhood was hushed, fireflies blinked in slow play, and not even a cloud loomed in the sky.
The tree outside her window was always in sight. It was the tree he hid behind as he'd guard her through out the night, his burnt out cigarettes piling at his feet.
She imagined he appeared from behind that tree, then leaned his back easily against the bark, smoking his cigarette while his sparkling blue eyes grabbed her, pulled her in and not letting go.
He was draped in standard leather and black, his face narrow with hollow cheeks and a grin so dashingly wicked, her heart skipped from nice to naughty.
She swallowed a lump in her throat, refused to blink away the false image. She watched almost expectedly as he took another drag, noted how his peroxide blond hair was in wild disarray, not like his usual slicked back do.
"Hello, pet." She drew in a breath when his voice echoed faintly, released just as slow.
How could he stand there looking so handsomely smug, knowing what he'd done to her and left her with out even a consideration of an explanation?
"Bastard." Her whisper was anything but soft as he then vanished like a spirit.
War continued to wage between heart and head with in the enclosed shell of her body.
She couldn't love him. They shared bodies and beds, kisses and tongues that writhed with passion, hands that pleasurably hurt in all the right and wrong places, words spoken, but she only listened to the shallow need, denied the depth of what he was offering.
She refused to share her heart with a soulless vampire.
All was confirmed the night he left, the night he attempted to rape her.
Ask me again why I could never love you! Some of the last words spoken to him repeated in her mind until they shook like an earth quake into her belly.
Ask me again why I could never love you!
Calm, she shut her eyes tightly, turned her body away from the window and went to her closet.
She opened the door, and hanging behind it was the black leather duster-his trophy from stealing the life of the previous Slayer decades ago-he left behind to the Slayer who stole his heart.
The smell of cigarettes and liquor and manly musk of his body no longer lingered on the leather. Yet a presence surrounded it, his aura still clung.
She ran her fingers reverently over the lapels, imagined she felt the mounds of his chest beneath them.
And after taking the duster gingerly in her arms, she threw it like a body to the floor, whipping it again to the hardwood, and again as red rage erupted through her.
Damn him, she cursed. Damn him for the confusion, for the forbidden feelings he lead her to explore and enjoy, for hating him and missing him all at the same time.
For the remorse she feels for violating him.
When she finally quieted, leaving the crumpled duster at the foot of her bed, she put her hand to her face to soothe the burn, took a breath and then slid under the sheets, settling on to her downy pillow.
She then reached down for the duster, and hugged it tight as she slept.
STAY, UNTIL THE SUN RISES: AWAITING
The night chill took care of her, cooled her as her body was in a heated chase after a newly awakened vamp dressed in a rumpled suit. She sped through the cemetery with a quickness only the Slayer possesses, her wooden stake easily clutched in her hand as she swiftly leapt over gravestones and dodged trees with sharp agility.
Her panting was heavy, drowning out the cricket songs that hung in the air with the tree branches. But she wouldn't listen to them sing. Her focus was firmly set on her target as it dashed through the night, searching for refuge from the one human his kind fears. She accelerated when she saw a grave stone ahead of her, ultimately deciding to use it as a jumping off point.
She cart wheeled through the air, her foot arrowed straight into the vampire's back, sending him flying and landing hard on to the ground. She rushed to him before he could get up, but was unprepared when his leg sprung up, giving one powerful kick into her abdomen.
She flew; her back against the wind as her body was limp. Her heart sunk, half used to, half fearing the unknown of her landing.
Suddenly, arms from behind caught her along with a familiar scent of cigarettes and whiskey, and they landed backwards on to the crisp grass.
"I got you Slayer."
The voice, English and intimate, caused a jolt in her gut that frightened and eased her at the same time.
His arms were protectively taut around her tensed body even after the impact. When she turned her head, her gaze meeting his, locking to the very blue of his eyes, her breath hitched at the surprise of him.
"I got you." He said at whisper.
Spike.
Buffy awoke to a jerked gasp as she was startled back into reality. Her eyes were half opened and sleepy as they scanned, reorienting herself to her surroundings. When she saw she was alone in Spike's crypt, only seeing silver moonlight bounce off the concrete walls, she quietly sighed, slouching back on to the muddy colored couch, and hugged her knees close to her chest.
"He hasn't come back yet. It's only me."
Startled that she wasn't alone with the privacy of her dream, she jumped to her feet and turned towards the friendly demon behind her.
"Clem! Hey! Who? Oh, Spike? No." Her movements, like her speech, were awkward; her hands tugging at the hem of her denim jacket, then crossing her arms over her breasts. "I wasn't waiting for Spike. I told you before. I get a little tired sometimes, you know, from patrolling."
Clem stood casually by the refrigerator, munching on a bag of spicy cheese fries. Powdered cheddar stained his flipper-like hands, even sprinkled on to his green vest. He listened unconditionally as Buffy dispensed her usual lame excuse of why she's at Spike's crypt. Almost every night for about a month since he left, Clem either bumped into her on her way out, or would find her on the couch in a dream brewed sleep where he'd hear the name escape her lips.
Other nights he wouldn't come by, leaving her be with her thoughts and the longing she constantly denied. She knew, just as much as he did, that she was waiting.
But he never asked questions or meddled in anyone else's affairs with out their consent. Despite his appearance of loose, hanging peach skin and crooked teeth that would scare at first sight, he was a dear friend who always stood unwavered.
She tucked a loose strand of her blond hair behind her ear, crossed her arms again. "This is the only place in the cemetery I know of with a couch, so I thought I'd get a little shut eye before heading out again."
"Well why don't you lie down on the sarcophagus. I'll give you the softest pillows and---"
"--No. Thanks." He had the kindest voice she thought. "Now that you're here I'll be out of your way."
"Are you sure? This is my place until he gets back, so my rules. Stay. How about something to eat? Cheese fry?"
He's not coming back. So why am I always here? She muttered in her thoughts as he offered her the bag.
"No, thank you, really. I better check if Dawn is up watching some gory horror flick."
"Ooh, I told her to stop watching those Jason movies. They scare the living daylights outta me."
"Yeah." She turned towards the exit, glanced back once with a smile. "Good night."
"Good night."
Then she reached the handle to the door and hesitated. "Um, Clem?"
"Yes Buffy."
Thank you for being so understanding, she wanted to say as the door creaked open, moonlight slicing the dark like a knife. "Thanks."
"Anytime." He knew what she meant.
**********
She stood over the threshold of the back door of her home, taking one last glimpse behind her. She didn't want to hear foot steps, but swore she almost could from far away. She told herself it was nothing, that the only sound heard was the stars twinkling like tiny bells in the thick blanket of sky.
Closing the door behind her, she then crept through the shadows of the house, up to Dawn's room.
"Dawn, you should be asleep." The motherly tone in her voice was fixed on her sister, who was reading a teen magazine under thin light, then tossed it aside when Buffy walked in.
"I was waiting up for you. You've been coming home later than usual." Buffy sat at the edge of the bed, raked her fingers through the long silk of Dawn's roasted brown hair.
"You know how it is. Creatures of the dark only come out at dark." Dawn sunk under the sheets as her sister tucked her in.
"When can I go patrolling with you again?"
"Don't worry. You have two months before school starts. That's plenty of nights to get in on the action." She switched off the lamp beside Dawn, the single moon beam beyond the glass polished their faces. "Now sleep."
"You were at Spike's, weren't you?"
Buffy was rising, but plunked herself back down on to the mattress. "What?"
"Clem said you like to 'nap' there."
"That's right. I get tired, so I just use his place to rest for awhile. And?"
"Its okay, you know. You could tell me the truth. How can you still want him?" Freckles swam in her white skin, her face saddened, voice flat.
"Who? Clem? Nice guy, but my epidermis is too tight for him. I could freak him out."
"Stop acting like you don't know who I'm talking about. Spike!"
Buffy licked her lips, inhaled then exhaled quickly to collect her thoughts. "Dawn, get this straight." Her tone was hard edged, firm. "I don't miss Spike." She said at length. "I don't need him, never did."
"I'm glad he's gone, after what he tried to do to you. I hope he never comes back."
Buffy couldn't help the feeling of guilt roll in her tummy. But she used excuses as a shield. "It's my fault. Chip or no chip, I should've remembered he's still a vampire, a creature of evil. It's in his nature to do things like what he did. I should've expected it." There was disappointment in her green eyes going dark, lowering them on to her fidgeting fingers. "Why he left, I don't know. But he's gone and I doubt he'll be coming back any time soon." She said briskly as she walked to the door.
"Then I don't know why you keep waiting for him."
Buffy shut the door asking herself the same question.
**********
The moonlight poured over her a she stood patiently by the window, gazing out thoughtfully into the deserted night, her hands clasped together against her beating heart.
Countless nights like this one, the lights of her room off, she'd stand quiet by her window, or even just sitting at the edge of her bed, sometimes forgetting to remove her worn out clothes, dirty from vampire dust.
She was comfortable tonight though, dressed in a white tank top and flannel, pajama pants; her arms bare to savor the subtle wind of the air conditioning.
Her awareness constantly heightened, mind free as her gaze drifted in no where particular outside, anticipating any signal, a sound, a movement of shadow he might offer.
Nothing.
The neighborhood was hushed, fireflies blinked in slow play, and not even a cloud loomed in the sky.
The tree outside her window was always in sight. It was the tree he hid behind as he'd guard her through out the night, his burnt out cigarettes piling at his feet.
She imagined he appeared from behind that tree, then leaned his back easily against the bark, smoking his cigarette while his sparkling blue eyes grabbed her, pulled her in and not letting go.
He was draped in standard leather and black, his face narrow with hollow cheeks and a grin so dashingly wicked, her heart skipped from nice to naughty.
She swallowed a lump in her throat, refused to blink away the false image. She watched almost expectedly as he took another drag, noted how his peroxide blond hair was in wild disarray, not like his usual slicked back do.
"Hello, pet." She drew in a breath when his voice echoed faintly, released just as slow.
How could he stand there looking so handsomely smug, knowing what he'd done to her and left her with out even a consideration of an explanation?
"Bastard." Her whisper was anything but soft as he then vanished like a spirit.
War continued to wage between heart and head with in the enclosed shell of her body.
She couldn't love him. They shared bodies and beds, kisses and tongues that writhed with passion, hands that pleasurably hurt in all the right and wrong places, words spoken, but she only listened to the shallow need, denied the depth of what he was offering.
She refused to share her heart with a soulless vampire.
All was confirmed the night he left, the night he attempted to rape her.
Ask me again why I could never love you! Some of the last words spoken to him repeated in her mind until they shook like an earth quake into her belly.
Ask me again why I could never love you!
Calm, she shut her eyes tightly, turned her body away from the window and went to her closet.
She opened the door, and hanging behind it was the black leather duster-his trophy from stealing the life of the previous Slayer decades ago-he left behind to the Slayer who stole his heart.
The smell of cigarettes and liquor and manly musk of his body no longer lingered on the leather. Yet a presence surrounded it, his aura still clung.
She ran her fingers reverently over the lapels, imagined she felt the mounds of his chest beneath them.
And after taking the duster gingerly in her arms, she threw it like a body to the floor, whipping it again to the hardwood, and again as red rage erupted through her.
Damn him, she cursed. Damn him for the confusion, for the forbidden feelings he lead her to explore and enjoy, for hating him and missing him all at the same time.
For the remorse she feels for violating him.
When she finally quieted, leaving the crumpled duster at the foot of her bed, she put her hand to her face to soothe the burn, took a breath and then slid under the sheets, settling on to her downy pillow.
She then reached down for the duster, and hugged it tight as she slept.