Bed Time for Buffy
By PassionFish
Chapter One
There were hundreds of them. Thousands even. Hundreds and thousands of little tiny, not-even-really-noticible cracks in the white plaster ceiling above her bed. She stared up at them, tracing the intricate patterns they formed as silent tears leaked from her eyes.
The silver snake-like droplets slid from her wide, dead hazel orbs. Gliding down her sun-kissed skin, dampening her hair. Her chest rose and fell in almost even breaths as she attempted to mask any sound her sorrow might herald.
"Three Forty-Two AM!"
Buffy jumped slightly, dislodging a tear from it's path with her movement, at the shrill computerised voice filled the room. It had been a 'I missed you, never ever leave me again.' present from Dawn. Unfortunatly it had a habit of chiming not only on the hour but forty-two minutes passed it as well.
A lump she thought she'd swalled ten minutes ago reformed in her throat and she tried to valiently to rid herself of it. She swallowed repetitivly, as though unable to breathe. Trapped, trapped, trapped...
As the memories of just a week earlier flooded her, her hand flew to her mouth to prevent the sob, that was threatening to escape, come out. She sat up suddenly, pushing her feet of her bed.
"I have to get out of here..." She murmured.
***
The streets were quiet.
Even though she'd only been back a week it was long enough to send the incoming demon population running.
She turned through the seemingly endless streets, her feet automatically taking her towards Sunnydale's graveyards.
Wandering aimlessly she wouldn't have expected to have ended up where she was.
She stood outside the crypt...his crypt for nearly a full ten minutes. Not wanting to go in, but still somehow unable to simply turn away and leave at the same time.
***
He was sleeping.
Well, it was almost sunrise, so she figured he would have to sleep now. Something to do with vampire physiology.
She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to get down here, but her she was. Standing infront of his bed.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
He was sleeping. Quite obviously naked save the single black sheet that hung across low on his hips.
She should go. She knew she should go. She shouldn't be up and about, hell, she shouldn't be in his crypt.
But...
She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to be here, in his crypt. She didn't...
She didn't want to be alone.
"Spike..."
The whisper, barely spoken, still managed to slice through the silence like a knife through butter.
She regarded in awed fascination as his eyes slowly opened, his dark lashes brushing against his pale skin, revealing shining blue orbs.
He took a minute to realise he wasn't still asleep, he sat up a bit, pulling the silk with him.
"Buffy?" His voice was but an amazed murmur.
"I can't sleep." She whispered, looking at him through lowered lashes. He said nothing, unsure as to what one would say to that statement.
"Will...will you hold me..." Her voice had dropped even lower, but Spike heard every syllable. "...till I fall asleep?"
"What?"
Her eyes finally met his, "Please..."
He nodded blindly, keeping the cover over his lap he moved back a little; giving more room at one side.
Buffy slipped out of her shoes and slid on to the bed, into his embrace with her back spooned into his chest. She shivered from the cold that being in a crypt brought and Spike lifted one arm from around her to pull the quilt that lay at the bottom of the bed, covering her barely clothed form with it.
She smiled as the silk of the cover rubbed against her bare legs. She'd dressed in a hurry, only flinging over her night clothes the jacket that now lay at the foot of the bed and was only attired in a thin cotton spagetti strapped top and cotton shorts.
The stake that was in the waistband on her shorts dug into her skin and she lifted her body to remove it. As she did so Spike used the oppertunity to slide his other arm around her.
With a tired sigh, Buffy placed the stake on the bed next to her and closed her eyes, allowing the tension to slip away.
***
Spike smiled as he listened to her deep, slow, even breaths. His arms tighted around her, drawing her closer to him, he inhaled her scent. Ignoring his arousal at her presence he ducked his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Spike tried to stay awake, wanting this moment to last as long as possible, but as two hours ticked passed sunrise he fell back asleep.
By PassionFish
Chapter One
There were hundreds of them. Thousands even. Hundreds and thousands of little tiny, not-even-really-noticible cracks in the white plaster ceiling above her bed. She stared up at them, tracing the intricate patterns they formed as silent tears leaked from her eyes.
The silver snake-like droplets slid from her wide, dead hazel orbs. Gliding down her sun-kissed skin, dampening her hair. Her chest rose and fell in almost even breaths as she attempted to mask any sound her sorrow might herald.
"Three Forty-Two AM!"
Buffy jumped slightly, dislodging a tear from it's path with her movement, at the shrill computerised voice filled the room. It had been a 'I missed you, never ever leave me again.' present from Dawn. Unfortunatly it had a habit of chiming not only on the hour but forty-two minutes passed it as well.
A lump she thought she'd swalled ten minutes ago reformed in her throat and she tried to valiently to rid herself of it. She swallowed repetitivly, as though unable to breathe. Trapped, trapped, trapped...
As the memories of just a week earlier flooded her, her hand flew to her mouth to prevent the sob, that was threatening to escape, come out. She sat up suddenly, pushing her feet of her bed.
"I have to get out of here..." She murmured.
***
The streets were quiet.
Even though she'd only been back a week it was long enough to send the incoming demon population running.
She turned through the seemingly endless streets, her feet automatically taking her towards Sunnydale's graveyards.
Wandering aimlessly she wouldn't have expected to have ended up where she was.
She stood outside the crypt...his crypt for nearly a full ten minutes. Not wanting to go in, but still somehow unable to simply turn away and leave at the same time.
***
He was sleeping.
Well, it was almost sunrise, so she figured he would have to sleep now. Something to do with vampire physiology.
She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed to get down here, but her she was. Standing infront of his bed.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
He was sleeping. Quite obviously naked save the single black sheet that hung across low on his hips.
She should go. She knew she should go. She shouldn't be up and about, hell, she shouldn't be in his crypt.
But...
She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to be here, in his crypt. She didn't...
She didn't want to be alone.
"Spike..."
The whisper, barely spoken, still managed to slice through the silence like a knife through butter.
She regarded in awed fascination as his eyes slowly opened, his dark lashes brushing against his pale skin, revealing shining blue orbs.
He took a minute to realise he wasn't still asleep, he sat up a bit, pulling the silk with him.
"Buffy?" His voice was but an amazed murmur.
"I can't sleep." She whispered, looking at him through lowered lashes. He said nothing, unsure as to what one would say to that statement.
"Will...will you hold me..." Her voice had dropped even lower, but Spike heard every syllable. "...till I fall asleep?"
"What?"
Her eyes finally met his, "Please..."
He nodded blindly, keeping the cover over his lap he moved back a little; giving more room at one side.
Buffy slipped out of her shoes and slid on to the bed, into his embrace with her back spooned into his chest. She shivered from the cold that being in a crypt brought and Spike lifted one arm from around her to pull the quilt that lay at the bottom of the bed, covering her barely clothed form with it.
She smiled as the silk of the cover rubbed against her bare legs. She'd dressed in a hurry, only flinging over her night clothes the jacket that now lay at the foot of the bed and was only attired in a thin cotton spagetti strapped top and cotton shorts.
The stake that was in the waistband on her shorts dug into her skin and she lifted her body to remove it. As she did so Spike used the oppertunity to slide his other arm around her.
With a tired sigh, Buffy placed the stake on the bed next to her and closed her eyes, allowing the tension to slip away.
***
Spike smiled as he listened to her deep, slow, even breaths. His arms tighted around her, drawing her closer to him, he inhaled her scent. Ignoring his arousal at her presence he ducked his head and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Spike tried to stay awake, wanting this moment to last as long as possible, but as two hours ticked passed sunrise he fell back asleep.