When Thing Happen, Chapter 2
By Jasmine Storm
From "Tabula Rasa" through "Wrecked." It's not perfectly in time with the episodes, but I did my best to keep it as close as I could.
This is my first attempt at a Buffy story, I hope that I did a good job. Please, read and review and let me know what you think. And if you want to comment, e-mail me directly at:
jsmnstrm@aol.com
Thanks
Jasmine
* * *
Spike awoke just as the sun began to go down. He could still feel the light, so he didn't dare open his coffin just yet. It wasn't time yet.
Besides, his thoughts were elsewhere.
The taste of her lips on his, the feel of her skin under his, the touch of her, her sweet scent… Everything about her.
His love for her burned like a fire through his skin. His deepest dreams were finally beginning to come true. He finally was realizing how deep his love for her ran, not to mention, that she felt that way too.
She did, didn't she?
She had to, the passion, the bloody need that almost seemed tangible, and it all was so desperately wanted. She has to love me as well.
A smile crept across his face. He knew he had been in love with Buffy for a very long time. He knew in his heart, if it beat like a living person's, would pound so hard when he was near her, it would erupt from his chest, shot like a cannon.
He had so long desperately wanted to kiss her. He needed it, he could feel it. If his body bled, it would be an outpouring of love and need for her. He needed to feel her against him. He wanted it more than he could possibly imagine. The taste of her only fed the craving more. How he would make love to her, to desperately touch her, ease her suffering.
He knew of her suffering. Ever since she came back, he knew that she had been pulled from Heaven instead of the grasp of Hell, as the others had thought. She told him right away. And he had felt privileged to receive that information, since she told no one else.
At least not until the Demon of Song came into their lives.
Of course, there was a happy ending to that one.
Their first kiss.
He allowed their first kiss to fill his mind. The instant taste of her, the crushing of her lips against his, the needy taste they both craved from one another. The heat from her body inflaming his own heat.
She drove him insane.
One moment, she wanted nothing to do with him, and the next she was in his arms. All he wanted more than life itself was to ease her mind, ease her suffering. Anything to make her life, her mind, her soul, at ease. Anything.
So, he never told her how he felt. For fear that she would never have anything to do with him again. She had loved before. But now, more than ever, she needed love again.
And I'm just the chap to give it to her, he thought to himself as he snapped his head up from the bed.
"Bloody Hell!" He cried out, as Buffy stood over the make-shift bed, as if she were about to wake him from his slumber.
She cried out, in shock as much as he did, jumping back away from the bed.
He sat up, instantly jumping out of the bed, and landing on the ground with a soft thud. "I was just coming to see you," he said softly.
She blushed and looked away from him. He glanced down at himself, realizing what she was blushing at. He had neglected to sleep in anything again.
"Not like that, I hope," she said, putting her back to him. She was still dressed in her workout clothes. Her body looked dirty and sweaty, as though she had been working out all day long. She stepped away from the bed, over toward his television. She rested her hand on it, and didn't bother turning around until she heard the sound of his zipper on his pants.
"What do you miss the most about being alive, Spike?" She asked, her voice soft, but a sadness lingering in the words.
Spike thought for a moment. "I'm not sure." He walked over to his favorite chair and grabbed the cigarettes off the table.
"There must be something you miss about being alive," she encouraged.
"Beds."
Buffy snapped her head around and looked at him, her face filled with a puzzled expression. "Beds?"
"Yeah," Spike said. "Beds. Real beds, with three or four mattresses and lots of pillows." He watched her for a moment as she seated herself on the floor facing him, closer than she probably intended, but just far enough to be out of his reach.
"Beds?" She looked up at him quizzically.
"Coffins don't have much for comfort features. And they're terrible to bring someone home to." Spike said, a grin spreading across his face.
She smiled, if only slightly. "I can see your point." She shook her head. "I'm going insane here," she said softly. "I'm loosing my mind."
Spike reached out to touch her shoulder, but she moved away.
"Giles is gone, Willow and Tara are broken up, and I'm supposed to be dead!" She let out a frustrated sigh. "I hate this!"
Spike got closer to her. "It's the life of a Slayer," he whispered to her.
"Got any bourbon?" She asked.
"I don't think you need any."
"What do you know about what I need?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. I know what you need, I know what you should have. And it's not in the bottom of a bottle! "I just don't think a drunk Slayer is what the world needs."
She let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. "What, you think you're my keeper now that Giles is gone?"
"No."
"Good," she snapped at him. "Get me something do drink."
"I don't have anything."
Buffy nodded at him, standing up and headed for the ladder that lead to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm getting what I want." Buffy said as she left.
Spike shook his head. "Bloody Hell," he muttered as he finished getting dressed as fast as he could and headed after her.
* * *
Buffy stormed off through the cemetery, heading for the nearest liquor store. She needed a drink. She needed something. And it wasn't Spike getting a conscience on her. She could take care of herself, right? Yet she couldn't get over the emptiness inside her. That aching that throbbed every day, every moment…
Except when you kissed him…
"Stop!" She cried out. "It was just a kiss. Nothing more!" She said, trying to stop the rampant thoughts in her mind.
"Buffy!" Spike called out, catching her in a moment.
She stopped, turning around to face him, the scowl on her face making him stop in his tracks.
"Buffy, I want to talk to you."
"Why?" she snapped. "What, to tell me some morally correct thing, that you shouldn't even understand!" She started walking again.
"Buffy," he said, grabbing her arm.
She grabbed him, her instincts taking over, and she flipped him down on the ground. "I don't want to talk to you."
"Buffy," he said, getting up. "We need to talk."
"Why?"
"We kissed, don't you think that needs addressing?" His voice was desperate, more desperate than he wanted it to be. And damnit all, she wasn't about to walk away from this!
"Why?" She said, storming off. "It was just a kiss."
He reached out, grabbing her again. She snapped around, kicking him in the stomach. He went flying across the ground.
"It was more than one," he snapped back at her.
"Whatever." Buffy replied, not looking at him.
"You felt something." He said, staring up at her as she stood over him. She dropped on his chest, holding his arms back away from him.
"Whatever."
"You can't tell me it didn't mean anything to you?
"It was a demon," she said, refusing to even acknowledge anything he said. Don't deny, don't do that to yourself, her mind screamed at her.
"Last night was no demon!"
"I was thinking about Giles."
"That's just great!" He said, as he knocked her off him. "You think about old bugger when you kiss me, that's just perfect!" He got up, his duster flying everywhere behind him as he paced frantically.
"Deal with it, Spike. It was nothing," she said as she walked away.
He stared after her, realizing that his chip didn't activate when he knocked her off him. "What the bloody Hell?" he muttered softly to himself.
