Chapter Four: Is The Past Still Nipping At You?
"It's just a tiny spell!" Willow promised. "I just want to try it out and see. It'll help in the future if I can get it to work!"
"What if it…if it, backfires, and accidentally hurts Spike?" Tara protested, eyes saddened at the vehemence with which her lover was pursuing the topic. They were sitting in the living room of the Summers' couch, a movie playing long forgotten on the television.
"It only works if I'm looking at the vamp I want to dust!" Willow responded, trying to stay reasonable, though her temper was beginning to flare. Didn't Tara trust her?
"It's too dangerous. And it's not a specific enough spell, Willow."
"What, you think I'm going to go around and dust people? What next, you think I'll start killing kitties? Or…or… cussing? I thought you knew…"
"I know you'd never do it on purpose, honey… it's just, accidents happen with these types of things…"
"But think of all the good that could come of it, baby! If we could just look at a demon and say, "dust" and it's gone? It would keep Buffy AND Spike from stepping right into the danger and…"
"Maybe it is helpful. But, but what if, if you do it one too many times? It's…it takes a lot of energy…and a lot of concentration… if you mess up…what if it turns Spike into dust? Or, or it hurts Buffy? Or you?" Tara's eyes were wide and pleading.
Willow looked horrified at Tara. "You…you don't trust me!? You think I'd hurt them! You don't think I can handle it!"
"No! I didn't say that, it was just…" Tara trailed off weakly. "What if?"
"There are no what ifs! What ifs are amateur witchy things. I'm so on top of that, can't you see? I've been practicing, and, and, and, doing witchy stuff, a lot. I'm good at it!"
"I know you're powerful, and I know you get better every time we practice, but this sort of spell is just too risky, Willow."
The redhead, looked down, unable to meet her lover's eyes. "You don't trust me."
Tara almost moved to apologize at the sad, lost tone Willow had taken, but in a sudden spur of backbone, remembered that it was important for Will to understand what she was saying. "I do trust you. I don't trust the powers you're trying to tap, honey. Just…please…"
Willow was deeply hurt by her lover's lack of faith in her. "Fine. I'll just keep being useless, or, or, doing baby spells that involve putty in the eyes, and stuff."
"You're not useless, baby! You're very important!" *unlike me,* Tara thought before she could stop herself.
"I want to be more helpful!" Willow started. "I mean, Buffy and Spike have their super powers. And they get to use them, like, all the time! How come when I want to use mine, it's automatically wrong?"
"Magic is trickier than super strength and super speed, Willow," Tara started explaining. "That's, that's just the way it is." She smiled lightly, trying to appear comforting.
Willow sighed. "Fine, I won't do the dusty spell."
Tara's face lit up with relief. "Thank you." She got up and kissed her girlfriend on the temple, before looking at the clock on the far wall. "I'm going to go take a shower, okay?"
"Okay," Willow responded, squeezing Tara's hand before the blonde turned to go upstairs. Deciding that she could do the spell without Tara's help. *I mean, it can't hurt anyone if they don't know, right? And if it saves someone in the future, then all the better.*
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Buffy surveyed the area, hoping they'd run into some vamps to dust. She'd let her muse run rapid with the idea of having trouble with Spike and the possibilities (and the bruises) didn't look promising. She wasn't sure she was prepared to handle any arguments with him. Their relationship began with enough stress in it already, from keeping it hidden from Giles to the whole vampire/slayer thing, to Riley, Angel, and the chip incident. The thought of them arguing and fighting (more than they already did and not half as playful) seemed unbearable.
Other thoughts of the possibility that Spike would go on a killing craze if things were to go poorly crossed her mind, but she quickly shoved it aside with a quick mental chastisement, thoughts of the good he'd done for her and the Scoobies instantly replacing her sudden doubt.
"So what's a Slayer and her pet vampire s'pposed to do on a Saturday night?" Spike teased, flanked at her side as they walked hip to hip in a natural rhythm.
She dodged around a tombstone with him close by and sighed. "It'd be nice to do some real boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff, you know?" she suggested, though the prospect sounded hopeless even to her. But it was nice to fantasize a little.
"Hmmm..." Spike licked his lips. "Like have us a good snog in a cemetery?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "There's more to life than making out, Spike."
"Really?" Spike raised his brows.
She glared, shaking her head. "Ugh..."
"I'm teasin,' pet..." he assured her, voice low and friendly in a way that made him seem all the more real in the role of boyfriend. And the fact that he was slightly pouty only added to the effect.
Spike sighed inwardly when she didn't respond to his soothing behavior. Why was she suddenly upset with him? He studied her frame, from the lilt of her walk to the slight slump of her shoulders. He watched the way her lips pouted deliciously and piteously at the same time, and how her arms dangled at her sides. He frowned, feeling angry with himself for doing something to upset her. A right wanker, he was.
His mind flitted back to earlier in the day, at the mall. He felt his mind cloud with blackness and he grated his teeth at the images his twisted memory reproduced. He rolled his shoulders, snapping the joints in his neck to keep his anger in check. "What would you like to do then, Slayer? Maybe we can go to the mall and have a nice chit chat or something..."
She stopped in her tracks and glared at him with ice in her eyes. "Why'd you say that?"
"You want a normal night, Buffy? Well I'm not your guy..." Spike kicked at a stone halfheartedly.
"Oh that's real sweet, Spike," she hissed back, crossing her arms and turning away from him completely. She bit on her lip. He would NOT break her down to tears. She stomped a few feet away, knowing she'd dissolve into them any minute. This was not supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be able to get to her with a few stupid words like that. It wasn't that far along between them, dammit!
Spike felt his anger fading at the sadness that darkened her eyes before she had turned from him. He took a deep breath, wondering if it would somehow help him control his sudden urge to pummel something senseless. He closed his eyes for a moment and willed the demon whispering wicked things in him to stop. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself moving briskly to her side. He was so slayer whipped it wasn't even funny. He didn't really care to laugh anyway. "Pet... 'm..."
His apology was rudely cut off when he was knocked across the head with something heavy and blunt. He hit the ground with a thump and a muffled curse.
Buffy turned around quickly at the sound, her anger dissolving to instant concern. "Spike!" she cried out before receiving a similar blow to the head, which knocked her over a tombstone. She landed on her rear, forced to stare up at her attacker.
A large, powerfully muscled vamp snarled at her, reaching for her throat hungrily.
She rolled backwards, easily avoiding his grasp before hopping to her feet and pulling a stake out with her momentum. "Don't you know it's not nice to interrupt a lover's spat?"
It growled, advancing slowly. "Soon you'll be dead and it won't matter, Slayer..."
"Been dead... twice actually. No biggie, really. Why don't you try it again too?" she quipped, throwing a spinning kick into her attacker's chest, which sent him flying backwards.
The vamp staggered, clutching its chest irritably as it glared at her. "If I don't kill you, my sire will. There are many of us, Slayer, all dedicated. You're no match," he ground out, jumping at her. "Not even with the traitor's help."
"Yeah, so afraid. So very…" Buffy paused to yawn. "…afraid." She stuck her boot out in a spinning arc, catching the demon smartly across the jaw. He toppled over and she pulled her stake and planted a foot on the vampire's chest. "And just who is this sire of yours?"
It coughed, glaring up at her with angry yellow eyes. "Sire said you'd ask. I'm not to tell..."
Spike groaned, finally coming back to consciousness.
"Well, you can tell me and I'll let you go, or I can just slay you and find out later..." Buffy baited.
"Sire said you'd be tricky, but I won't tell. My master's identity is secret," he hissed in reply.
"Your master's a chicken," Buffy snorted. "Too afraid of the Slayer to come out of hiding..."
The vamp ignored her and turned its ridged head towards Spike instead. "I have a message personally for you, traitor. When the stars are all named and the dead bird sings, master will come for you both. There'll be no place to hide and you both will die. You can't stop us. We're too powerful this time," the vampire chuckled happily, even as Buffy made a disgusted face at it and raised her stake. Suddenly it's eyes were back on her. "You'll fall, Slayer... just like the ones before you."
Spike's head lifted as the vampire talked. The stars were named… familiarity hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt his entire body tense. *God no... It couldn't be...*
Buffy soon grew weary of the threats made on not only her life, but on Spike's. Plunged her stake downward and watched as the hulking form of her chosen enemy evaporated into dust beneath her. "Obviously not as powerful as you thought, dusty."
She wiped her hands off in a rather self-satisfied manner before sheathing her weapon of choice in the waistband of her pants and turning around. Spike still lay unconscious on the floor. All angry thoughts directed at him from before vanished from her mind in a puff of vamp dust as she saw him lying sprawled out like that, and she ran to him. "Spike!" she cried, falling to her knees at his side. She turned him over in her arms, cradling his head. An angry red bruise shone like a beacon against his telltale shock of white hair. "Wake up, baby..." she knew inside he was all right but the fledgling had her worried. Just who was this powerful master?
Spike pretended to wake from unconsciousness, as he so often saw those actors do on TV. He opened his eyes slowly, shock still registering in his body. He shivered in her arms and shook his head with a grunt. "Slayer?"
"It's me, we were attacked..." she clutched him close still, and he was warmed at the thought that even after there'd been fighting, she loved him.
He squirmed out of her grasp, sitting up, and hissed as a small bout of nausea engaged him. He rubbed irritably at the bump throbbing angrily on his head. "How many?"
"Just one," she grinned sheepishly.
"Bloody hell..." Spike snorted.
"Spike..." she started. "The fledgling wouldn't say who his sire was, but he seemed pretty sure that's its the powerful type vamp. He said that the sire had a message for me..."
Spike swallowed hard, pretending he had no clue what she was saying. Like he hadn't heard every word of that ominous, eerily familiar warning. "Oh?"
"He said, when the stars are all named and the dead bird sings...that the master will come for us and we'll die." Buffy repeated what the dusty vamp had told her. "You think this sire is a raging psycho? Wait…dumb question."
Spike chuckled on the outside in a manner which he hoped was convincing as genuine. On the inside he was ice cold with fear. "Someone's definitely off their rocker, pet," he responded. *Right up her ally.* "Dead birds can't sing..."
"I betcha they can on the Hellmouth," she huffed. "Do you know what it means, Spike? Sound like anyone from your previous Big Bad days?"
"No," he lied, eyes turned away from her. "No idea at all."
"Well, guess this can only mean one thing," Buffy frowned.
"What's that?" he could almost feel his heart pound anxiously, hoping she didn't see right through him.
"Research..." she groaned, standing up and offering him a hand.
"Oh.." He calmed inside, and was able to actually swallow to smooth out the roughness of his voice.. "Right then." He took her proffered hand and scrambled rather gracelessly to his feet, nearly tumbling back to the ground in his haste.
"Whoa, wobbly knees," Buffy gripped him tightly. "Only 'm s'pposed to do that to you..." She grinned at him.
"Buffy..." He searched her eyes with his own. He had to tell her, but...how?
"Don't be mad, about before? Please? I'm sorry... We both know this is beyond better than a normal relationship and I shouldn't expect..."
He cut her off with a searing, desperate kiss. Things just got a whole lot more complicated than debating on the merits of a normal relationship. The fight about something like that seemed so insignificant in his eyes right now. All he could think about was how he couldn't lose her; not now and not ever. Not if he still wanted to feel whole inside. But strangely, he couldn't tell her the truth either, and he knew it had the possibility to destroy them. It could wreck him beyond repair. He deepened the kiss, growling ferociously. But they had now, at the moment. He pulled her tightly against him, using his vampire strength to crush her body against his.
She moaned loudly, from both the heat of his kiss and from the painful, possessive grip he had on her body. "I guess 'm forgiven..." she grunted out after pulling back for air.
He softened his embrace, nuzzling her neck tragically. "Of course, Buffy." *Question is, will you ever be able to forgive me, luv?*
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She smiled at him, running her fingers through his white blonde hair affectionately, loving how it curled of it's own volition when he neglected to gel it down. She planted a kiss on the top of his head and ran her other arm across his spine, through his black t-shirt in a series of feather light caresses. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of the length of his body stretched over hers as they lay on the couch together in a scene so oddly domestic that those that knew them would laugh if they ever were to stumble upon it.
Spike's mind however, was far from where it should have been. Nothing was more wonderful than to hold her, and be with her like this, but his thoughts in a whirlwind of anguish decided to replay the scene from earlier. Could it really be that she was back? Why was she hiding like this? It was so unlike Dru to hide in shadows and make fledglings of scrap. Did she know about him and Buffy? Is that what she was after, destroying them? What would he do? He needed to protect his love from his sire; his dark queen. But how could he destroy Dru? He couldn't, and he wasn't sure he could let Buffy do it either. He hated this... It made him feel... guilty...wicked...evil...Was he really betraying Buffy? He liked to think he was keeping her safe, or was he really trying to protect Dru?
He lifted his head, looking into her eyes.
She smiled sweetly. "Spike..." she leaned up to kiss him, lips parted.
He felt violently sick to his stomach with grief. He jumped up before he lost himself. "I've gotta go Buffy..."
"What?" She frowned. "Why?" Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched him throw on his duster.
"It's getting late," he straightened his collar.
"But..." she was taken aback by his attitude. It seemed like he couldn't get out of the house fast enough "I...I thought it be nice if you stayed with me...here... on the couch," she blushed. "Like last time?"
His insides broke at sound of her voice; so sweet, so warm, so gentle. He didn't deserve it, the ponce that he was. Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair. "I can't, luv,"
She felt her heart crack at the look on his face. "Why?" She sat up.
"Because I just said I can't," he sighed, his mind too wrapped around Drusilla and finding out what was going on to think up a logical excuse. He turned his gaze to her face, hoping the look in his eyes would help her trust him on this. However, one glance at the sadness in her eyes shining back at him and he groaned. Kneeling in front of her and taking her hands into his own, he kissed their backs tenderly. "Another night, pet..." If she'd still love him after this mess...
"Right, okay.." she nodded, trying to hide the disappoint wallowing in her throat. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Of course, pet. I can't stand to be without you, you know," he whispered gently as he laid a soft kiss on her cheek.
She seemed stunned at the comment. He was being amazing, but so mysterious at the same time. She sighed, realizing that she was acting like a lovesick fool. Pushing men away was her specialty; yet she didn't think coming on too strong with Spike would push him away. Maybe it was.
"I love you. Never forget that, Buffy." He kissed her lips, and their contact felt like a mere shadow. It left her wanting more. It felt haunted.
"I love you too, Spike..." she replied breathily.
He stood up, heading for the door.
She followed after, lagging. "Wish you would stay..." she started, beginning to plead once more.
He was already gone.
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Spike took off down the street quickly. He knew he shouldn't have left so abruptly, but Dru could be out there somewhere and he had to find out what she was up to. For Buffy's sake... right??
At least that's how he felt deep down. He loved her with all he was, and all he wished he was. He had to be sure this was Dru. He also knew the Slayer would probably beat him to a bloody pulp if she found out he was keeping this from her, even if he argued it was to protect her. She hated to be protected, and frankly, she didn't need protection. So then, did he really want to protect Drusilla?
Spike knew without a doubt in his mind the one he truly loved was Buffy. He never loved anyone the way he loved her. But, Dru... Dru was not only his sire, but his lover for over a century. You didn't just forget that... You didn't just go up to your sire, your lover, and stake them in the heart because it threatened the love of your life, and many other lifetimes. Did you?
Spike growled with uncertainty and he patted his leather duster in search of salvation. It was times like these that gum didn't cut it. He fished out the remnants of an old pack of cigarettes. He lit it quickly, before his mind changed and inhaled deeply.
God, he missed this. But kissing the Slayer more than made up for the loss of his smokes.
He headed for the mansion, hoping to find Dru and drive her out of Sunnydale before something they all regretted happened. Part of him hoped this wasn't his dark queen and he could go back home to Buffy and make up his wanker-ish behavior to her all night.
But there was another part of him that wondered what his Princess would say about his new relationship. She'd seemed to know, in her warped, psychic mind, that he loved the Slayer before he himself knew it. Course, he laughed taking a drag, he thought she was completely off her rocker then. Now, he knew she was right. Perhaps that's why she was back. Now that Buffy loved him in return, she wanted vengeance of some sort? The slayer that stole the vampire from his centennial lover, from the one that breathed death and blood into his veins and took him unto a world of darkness. Then again, Dru's messenger had said they'd both die. Could it be, that his Drusilla wanted him to be dusty? Her William? Dru may have been loopy, but she'd never been spiteful to him.
Cor, she had to know that he wouldn't have staked her when he'd tied her and Buffy up. Well, if she did, perhaps he had to rethink staking her himself. If she did endanger Buffy's life... he couldn't even think about that, refused to at the moment. He wasn't sure he'd know what to do.
"Bloody hell, Spike. Find out if it is Dru first, worry about the rest later. The rate you're going mate, you'll be no good for anything. You know you love Buffy. If Dru tried to hurt her, you'd run her through with the wood yourself and you bloody well know it, you soddin' ponce." he flicked his ashes. "Right?" He groaned. "Damn... I hate women..." he growled. "Great, you're a real nancy boy now, talkin' to yerself and shit..."
Okay, so maybe he was a little scared, or nervous rather. Yeah. Nervous. Not scared. On one hand, he had to keep this hidden from Buffy. At least until he was sure it was Dru. If it was, he'd deal with it from there. He wasn't sure Buffy would understand the loyalty he had towards Dru. She'd probably consider it more a love thing than a loyalty thing, knowing how her mind worked. And on the other hand, he wanted to tell her, because he knew that she'd be brassed off if he kept it hidden. Not to mention, she might think he'd gone evil again....
But... if he found Dru, got rid of her and neither of them were hurt, they'd all be better off. Well, he'd sleep better at night in any case.
Tossing his butt into the street, he exhaled the last of the smoke and strode with purpose to the mansion.
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Well, that was just fanfuckingtastic. No trace of her anywhere. The old factory, the mansion, the usual vamp haunts, nothing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. It should have been a good thing, though, wasn't it? Perhaps this meant it wasn't Drusilla after all. Then again, maybe she'd just improved on her hide and seek game since he'd last seen her.
Anger pounded in waves over his body. He hated it when he couldn't do something to control the situation. Though, maybe this just meant there was nothing to worry about, and it was just some wanker who thought himself/herself a master vampire and that he could tangle with the Big Bad and his Slayer.
It was near dawn as he pounded down the streets of Sunnyhell at a quick pace, telling himself next time it might be smart to grab the bike or the Desoto when traveling so late.
The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and Spike thought it might be a sign from the PTBs. Or they were fucking with him again. Probably both.
Buffy's house was closer than his crypt... and well, he felt like a wanker for walking out on her earlier that night. He'd make it up to her now, not to mention he'd save his hide from an unwanted, and doubtlessly painful suntan in the meantime. Thinking her, he realized he missed her terribly all of a sudden. The prospect of not seeing her made him feel as if he might go mad. He needed to feel her warm embrace and her soft lips. He needed to smell her scent that was sometimes vanilla and sometimes strawberries, and he wanted to taste her creamy skin, feel her heartbeat beneath his hand, sure and strong, and reassuring. He needed her to tell him she loved him, and that in it self gave them enough power to take on whatever the world was about to throw at them.
It was scant minutes from sunrise when he realized he'd wandered a bit aimlessly, lost in daydreams of her. He cursed himself and took off at run for Revello Drive.
"Of all the dumb luck," he growled, running up her steps, his duster beginning to smoke as the sun peeked over the horizon. He pounded on the door, hoping Dawn wouldn't be woken up by his careless slamming. "Slayer!!!"
He hissed at the sun, as a stray ray flashed over his delicate skin. "Buffy!!!" he shouted, closing his eyes, calling her name out over and over.
The door flung open quick and he was violently pulled inside and into the safety of the shadows.
He collapsed onto the steps as the door shut quickly behind him.
The hissing and popping of his skin diminished and he sighed in relief. "Thanks, luv."
"Spike, Jesus Christ almighty, are you trying to kill yourself?!" Buffy hissed, at his side in an instant and looking over his slightly smoking skin. She was torn between smacking him for being such an idiot and cooing over her poor, burnt baby.
"Kill myself? Not when I've got you to look forward to pet, no..." he patted the smoke off his duster. "Just felt like getting meself a nice ol' tan..."
She smacked his arm. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He chuckled, thinking how much she sounded like the old Buffy. The one who despised him. Now, there was only concern behind her harshness. "Missed you terribly, pet."
She sighed, melting a little. "You coulda just stayed last night."
"Hadda take care of a few things," he responded easily for her benefit, winking. "Found out after a bit that I couldn't stay away." He caressed her cheek softly. "Don't know why," he murmured, eyes locked on hers.
She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I'm glad you're back." When her eyes opened they were clouded with confusion. "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere special, luv...." he shook his head, standing. "Just a few loose ends tied up."
She eyed him, unsure as whether or not to believe him. "So...." she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and drop it. "Guess you're stuck here until sunset..."
"Yeah...'less you really do want me to improve my tan," he teased.
She slipped her arms under his duster, encircling his waist. "I think you look fine just the way you are. Good enough to eat," she whispered conspirationally, pulling him close, eyes looking up into his as she brushed her lips softly against his cool ones. The way his eyes locked on her, their sparkling blue intensity, always made her lose control of herself. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, parting her lips slightly.
Spike wasted no time taking her up on her invitation and he purred softly into her mouth, his tongue exploring the unique taste that was hers alone. He rested his forehead against hers, groaning in self-loathing. "Bloody hell, Slayer, you got me acting like some bloody house cat...purring whenever you touch me...." he whispered huskily, half in annoyance and half in wonder. "Do you have any idea what the hell you do to me?"
She smiled with a kind of feminine satisfaction, reveling in the feel of the slightest contact with him. He growled low in his throat and the coquettish look she gave him, and with barely restrained lust, assaulted her mouth his, his tongue doing things to hers that made her lose her mind. "Mhhmm..." Her heart pounded heavily in her chest and she breathed deeply. The sounds he could make, that mischief in his eyes, always pushed her over the edge. It was so intoxicating; primal and full of promise. It made her feel powerful, in that she could do that to him, and she liked it. Though she supposed he had the power to make her do things she normally wouldn't. She knew he loved the way he could make her mewl like a newborn kitten, make her writhe and squirm under his touch. The power they had over each other was welcome, balancing, a heady combination of chemistry and passion.
She tipped her head back, exposing her throat to his mouth, to be devoured or caressed, she didn't care. Her eyes closed tightly and she groaned intimately when his lips crashed upon the hollow of her throat, tracing a path along her jugular and up to her chin in a series of maddening nips and licks. She nearly cried aloud.
"Spike..."
He could hear her heart pounding and her blood pumping through her veins with such intensity, his head ached momentarily. "Slayer..." he growled, a bit ferocious. Before he knew it, his growls turned into purrs again, as her hands worked their way into his wild, platinum locks. He nibbled at her throat, reveling in the taste of her.
She smiled; satisfied at the work his mouth was doing at her throat. His blunt human teeth were driving her insane. She trusted him completely so she dipped her throat back further, inviting more of his ministrations.
His insides quivered with want and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd regret it. He couldn't believe how trustingly she presented her neck to him; just inviting him to it. He pulled away, eyes closed. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "Buffy..."
"I trust you, Spike. I trust you with all my heart. Never forget that," she echoed his words from earlier, and tilted her head back up, eyes on him.
He looked into hers, brushing back her wild hair in a gesture so tender that it seemed out of place amidst what they were doing to each other currently. They stood like that for a long time, lost in each other's eyes. His hand ran the length of her to the waist, gently, reverently. "I know you do, pet, I know. I just want to hold you right now, never stop touching you."
She stifled a yawn, smiling, with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Sounds better than heaven..." she gripped his hand in hers, leading him to her room. "But promise to never let go?"
"Swear it, baby." He followed up after her, his undead heart filled with warmth at her comment. Looking at her as she led him, he was convinced he was truly the luckiest bloke on the face of this earth, and all other dimensions alike.
Her room was darkened perfectly, and he watched as she sunk into bed, waiting for him. He thought back briefly to the times where he stood outside her window, wanting so desperately to be in here with her, holding her, loving her. To think it was all his and only his now, was almost too good to be true.
He let his duster fall to the floor with a whoosh, and tore off his blue button down and black t-shirt. All the time, his eyes on her, and she watched him in return. He kicked off his boots and unbuckled his belt. He slipped into the bed beside her and nearly died a second time. She slipped against his cold, muscled chest and snuggled against him, pressing kisses onto his skin in a manner that threatened to make him burn from the inside out.
She pulled the blanket over them, resting her head in the crook of his neck and sighed happily. She noticed how perfectly the frame of her body fitted to his, one leg draped across his jean clad legs. Her arm was draped across his chest lovingly caressing his muscled abs, enjoying how they jumped and quivered under her touch.
Spike was lost in the scent of her. Her golden hair was inches from his nose; her beautiful face buried against his neck. She was wrapped around him like they were long time lovers, slipping into their partners embrace, two pieces of a puzzle snapped together. He pulled her into him further, an arm wrapped around her soft frame possessively. She breathed softly, sending warm breaths across his bare chest, soon falling into a pattern that told him she was fast asleep.
He snuggled into her, emitting one last satisfied purr, closing his eyes. This was what home felt like. This was the love he always wondered about. Nothing was more wonderful than holding her right now. When the time came that he could hold her warm flesh upon his cooler flesh, after making love to her, he would know what it was like to touch heaven's gates. He would know serenity. For now he would take this little piece of heaven, and treasure it with all his undead being.
"It's just a tiny spell!" Willow promised. "I just want to try it out and see. It'll help in the future if I can get it to work!"
"What if it…if it, backfires, and accidentally hurts Spike?" Tara protested, eyes saddened at the vehemence with which her lover was pursuing the topic. They were sitting in the living room of the Summers' couch, a movie playing long forgotten on the television.
"It only works if I'm looking at the vamp I want to dust!" Willow responded, trying to stay reasonable, though her temper was beginning to flare. Didn't Tara trust her?
"It's too dangerous. And it's not a specific enough spell, Willow."
"What, you think I'm going to go around and dust people? What next, you think I'll start killing kitties? Or…or… cussing? I thought you knew…"
"I know you'd never do it on purpose, honey… it's just, accidents happen with these types of things…"
"But think of all the good that could come of it, baby! If we could just look at a demon and say, "dust" and it's gone? It would keep Buffy AND Spike from stepping right into the danger and…"
"Maybe it is helpful. But, but what if, if you do it one too many times? It's…it takes a lot of energy…and a lot of concentration… if you mess up…what if it turns Spike into dust? Or, or it hurts Buffy? Or you?" Tara's eyes were wide and pleading.
Willow looked horrified at Tara. "You…you don't trust me!? You think I'd hurt them! You don't think I can handle it!"
"No! I didn't say that, it was just…" Tara trailed off weakly. "What if?"
"There are no what ifs! What ifs are amateur witchy things. I'm so on top of that, can't you see? I've been practicing, and, and, and, doing witchy stuff, a lot. I'm good at it!"
"I know you're powerful, and I know you get better every time we practice, but this sort of spell is just too risky, Willow."
The redhead, looked down, unable to meet her lover's eyes. "You don't trust me."
Tara almost moved to apologize at the sad, lost tone Willow had taken, but in a sudden spur of backbone, remembered that it was important for Will to understand what she was saying. "I do trust you. I don't trust the powers you're trying to tap, honey. Just…please…"
Willow was deeply hurt by her lover's lack of faith in her. "Fine. I'll just keep being useless, or, or, doing baby spells that involve putty in the eyes, and stuff."
"You're not useless, baby! You're very important!" *unlike me,* Tara thought before she could stop herself.
"I want to be more helpful!" Willow started. "I mean, Buffy and Spike have their super powers. And they get to use them, like, all the time! How come when I want to use mine, it's automatically wrong?"
"Magic is trickier than super strength and super speed, Willow," Tara started explaining. "That's, that's just the way it is." She smiled lightly, trying to appear comforting.
Willow sighed. "Fine, I won't do the dusty spell."
Tara's face lit up with relief. "Thank you." She got up and kissed her girlfriend on the temple, before looking at the clock on the far wall. "I'm going to go take a shower, okay?"
"Okay," Willow responded, squeezing Tara's hand before the blonde turned to go upstairs. Deciding that she could do the spell without Tara's help. *I mean, it can't hurt anyone if they don't know, right? And if it saves someone in the future, then all the better.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy surveyed the area, hoping they'd run into some vamps to dust. She'd let her muse run rapid with the idea of having trouble with Spike and the possibilities (and the bruises) didn't look promising. She wasn't sure she was prepared to handle any arguments with him. Their relationship began with enough stress in it already, from keeping it hidden from Giles to the whole vampire/slayer thing, to Riley, Angel, and the chip incident. The thought of them arguing and fighting (more than they already did and not half as playful) seemed unbearable.
Other thoughts of the possibility that Spike would go on a killing craze if things were to go poorly crossed her mind, but she quickly shoved it aside with a quick mental chastisement, thoughts of the good he'd done for her and the Scoobies instantly replacing her sudden doubt.
"So what's a Slayer and her pet vampire s'pposed to do on a Saturday night?" Spike teased, flanked at her side as they walked hip to hip in a natural rhythm.
She dodged around a tombstone with him close by and sighed. "It'd be nice to do some real boyfriend-girlfriend type stuff, you know?" she suggested, though the prospect sounded hopeless even to her. But it was nice to fantasize a little.
"Hmmm..." Spike licked his lips. "Like have us a good snog in a cemetery?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "There's more to life than making out, Spike."
"Really?" Spike raised his brows.
She glared, shaking her head. "Ugh..."
"I'm teasin,' pet..." he assured her, voice low and friendly in a way that made him seem all the more real in the role of boyfriend. And the fact that he was slightly pouty only added to the effect.
Spike sighed inwardly when she didn't respond to his soothing behavior. Why was she suddenly upset with him? He studied her frame, from the lilt of her walk to the slight slump of her shoulders. He watched the way her lips pouted deliciously and piteously at the same time, and how her arms dangled at her sides. He frowned, feeling angry with himself for doing something to upset her. A right wanker, he was.
His mind flitted back to earlier in the day, at the mall. He felt his mind cloud with blackness and he grated his teeth at the images his twisted memory reproduced. He rolled his shoulders, snapping the joints in his neck to keep his anger in check. "What would you like to do then, Slayer? Maybe we can go to the mall and have a nice chit chat or something..."
She stopped in her tracks and glared at him with ice in her eyes. "Why'd you say that?"
"You want a normal night, Buffy? Well I'm not your guy..." Spike kicked at a stone halfheartedly.
"Oh that's real sweet, Spike," she hissed back, crossing her arms and turning away from him completely. She bit on her lip. He would NOT break her down to tears. She stomped a few feet away, knowing she'd dissolve into them any minute. This was not supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be able to get to her with a few stupid words like that. It wasn't that far along between them, dammit!
Spike felt his anger fading at the sadness that darkened her eyes before she had turned from him. He took a deep breath, wondering if it would somehow help him control his sudden urge to pummel something senseless. He closed his eyes for a moment and willed the demon whispering wicked things in him to stop. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself moving briskly to her side. He was so slayer whipped it wasn't even funny. He didn't really care to laugh anyway. "Pet... 'm..."
His apology was rudely cut off when he was knocked across the head with something heavy and blunt. He hit the ground with a thump and a muffled curse.
Buffy turned around quickly at the sound, her anger dissolving to instant concern. "Spike!" she cried out before receiving a similar blow to the head, which knocked her over a tombstone. She landed on her rear, forced to stare up at her attacker.
A large, powerfully muscled vamp snarled at her, reaching for her throat hungrily.
She rolled backwards, easily avoiding his grasp before hopping to her feet and pulling a stake out with her momentum. "Don't you know it's not nice to interrupt a lover's spat?"
It growled, advancing slowly. "Soon you'll be dead and it won't matter, Slayer..."
"Been dead... twice actually. No biggie, really. Why don't you try it again too?" she quipped, throwing a spinning kick into her attacker's chest, which sent him flying backwards.
The vamp staggered, clutching its chest irritably as it glared at her. "If I don't kill you, my sire will. There are many of us, Slayer, all dedicated. You're no match," he ground out, jumping at her. "Not even with the traitor's help."
"Yeah, so afraid. So very…" Buffy paused to yawn. "…afraid." She stuck her boot out in a spinning arc, catching the demon smartly across the jaw. He toppled over and she pulled her stake and planted a foot on the vampire's chest. "And just who is this sire of yours?"
It coughed, glaring up at her with angry yellow eyes. "Sire said you'd ask. I'm not to tell..."
Spike groaned, finally coming back to consciousness.
"Well, you can tell me and I'll let you go, or I can just slay you and find out later..." Buffy baited.
"Sire said you'd be tricky, but I won't tell. My master's identity is secret," he hissed in reply.
"Your master's a chicken," Buffy snorted. "Too afraid of the Slayer to come out of hiding..."
The vamp ignored her and turned its ridged head towards Spike instead. "I have a message personally for you, traitor. When the stars are all named and the dead bird sings, master will come for you both. There'll be no place to hide and you both will die. You can't stop us. We're too powerful this time," the vampire chuckled happily, even as Buffy made a disgusted face at it and raised her stake. Suddenly it's eyes were back on her. "You'll fall, Slayer... just like the ones before you."
Spike's head lifted as the vampire talked. The stars were named… familiarity hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt his entire body tense. *God no... It couldn't be...*
Buffy soon grew weary of the threats made on not only her life, but on Spike's. Plunged her stake downward and watched as the hulking form of her chosen enemy evaporated into dust beneath her. "Obviously not as powerful as you thought, dusty."
She wiped her hands off in a rather self-satisfied manner before sheathing her weapon of choice in the waistband of her pants and turning around. Spike still lay unconscious on the floor. All angry thoughts directed at him from before vanished from her mind in a puff of vamp dust as she saw him lying sprawled out like that, and she ran to him. "Spike!" she cried, falling to her knees at his side. She turned him over in her arms, cradling his head. An angry red bruise shone like a beacon against his telltale shock of white hair. "Wake up, baby..." she knew inside he was all right but the fledgling had her worried. Just who was this powerful master?
Spike pretended to wake from unconsciousness, as he so often saw those actors do on TV. He opened his eyes slowly, shock still registering in his body. He shivered in her arms and shook his head with a grunt. "Slayer?"
"It's me, we were attacked..." she clutched him close still, and he was warmed at the thought that even after there'd been fighting, she loved him.
He squirmed out of her grasp, sitting up, and hissed as a small bout of nausea engaged him. He rubbed irritably at the bump throbbing angrily on his head. "How many?"
"Just one," she grinned sheepishly.
"Bloody hell..." Spike snorted.
"Spike..." she started. "The fledgling wouldn't say who his sire was, but he seemed pretty sure that's its the powerful type vamp. He said that the sire had a message for me..."
Spike swallowed hard, pretending he had no clue what she was saying. Like he hadn't heard every word of that ominous, eerily familiar warning. "Oh?"
"He said, when the stars are all named and the dead bird sings...that the master will come for us and we'll die." Buffy repeated what the dusty vamp had told her. "You think this sire is a raging psycho? Wait…dumb question."
Spike chuckled on the outside in a manner which he hoped was convincing as genuine. On the inside he was ice cold with fear. "Someone's definitely off their rocker, pet," he responded. *Right up her ally.* "Dead birds can't sing..."
"I betcha they can on the Hellmouth," she huffed. "Do you know what it means, Spike? Sound like anyone from your previous Big Bad days?"
"No," he lied, eyes turned away from her. "No idea at all."
"Well, guess this can only mean one thing," Buffy frowned.
"What's that?" he could almost feel his heart pound anxiously, hoping she didn't see right through him.
"Research..." she groaned, standing up and offering him a hand.
"Oh.." He calmed inside, and was able to actually swallow to smooth out the roughness of his voice.. "Right then." He took her proffered hand and scrambled rather gracelessly to his feet, nearly tumbling back to the ground in his haste.
"Whoa, wobbly knees," Buffy gripped him tightly. "Only 'm s'pposed to do that to you..." She grinned at him.
"Buffy..." He searched her eyes with his own. He had to tell her, but...how?
"Don't be mad, about before? Please? I'm sorry... We both know this is beyond better than a normal relationship and I shouldn't expect..."
He cut her off with a searing, desperate kiss. Things just got a whole lot more complicated than debating on the merits of a normal relationship. The fight about something like that seemed so insignificant in his eyes right now. All he could think about was how he couldn't lose her; not now and not ever. Not if he still wanted to feel whole inside. But strangely, he couldn't tell her the truth either, and he knew it had the possibility to destroy them. It could wreck him beyond repair. He deepened the kiss, growling ferociously. But they had now, at the moment. He pulled her tightly against him, using his vampire strength to crush her body against his.
She moaned loudly, from both the heat of his kiss and from the painful, possessive grip he had on her body. "I guess 'm forgiven..." she grunted out after pulling back for air.
He softened his embrace, nuzzling her neck tragically. "Of course, Buffy." *Question is, will you ever be able to forgive me, luv?*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She smiled at him, running her fingers through his white blonde hair affectionately, loving how it curled of it's own volition when he neglected to gel it down. She planted a kiss on the top of his head and ran her other arm across his spine, through his black t-shirt in a series of feather light caresses. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of the length of his body stretched over hers as they lay on the couch together in a scene so oddly domestic that those that knew them would laugh if they ever were to stumble upon it.
Spike's mind however, was far from where it should have been. Nothing was more wonderful than to hold her, and be with her like this, but his thoughts in a whirlwind of anguish decided to replay the scene from earlier. Could it really be that she was back? Why was she hiding like this? It was so unlike Dru to hide in shadows and make fledglings of scrap. Did she know about him and Buffy? Is that what she was after, destroying them? What would he do? He needed to protect his love from his sire; his dark queen. But how could he destroy Dru? He couldn't, and he wasn't sure he could let Buffy do it either. He hated this... It made him feel... guilty...wicked...evil...Was he really betraying Buffy? He liked to think he was keeping her safe, or was he really trying to protect Dru?
He lifted his head, looking into her eyes.
She smiled sweetly. "Spike..." she leaned up to kiss him, lips parted.
He felt violently sick to his stomach with grief. He jumped up before he lost himself. "I've gotta go Buffy..."
"What?" She frowned. "Why?" Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched him throw on his duster.
"It's getting late," he straightened his collar.
"But..." she was taken aback by his attitude. It seemed like he couldn't get out of the house fast enough "I...I thought it be nice if you stayed with me...here... on the couch," she blushed. "Like last time?"
His insides broke at sound of her voice; so sweet, so warm, so gentle. He didn't deserve it, the ponce that he was. Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair. "I can't, luv,"
She felt her heart crack at the look on his face. "Why?" She sat up.
"Because I just said I can't," he sighed, his mind too wrapped around Drusilla and finding out what was going on to think up a logical excuse. He turned his gaze to her face, hoping the look in his eyes would help her trust him on this. However, one glance at the sadness in her eyes shining back at him and he groaned. Kneeling in front of her and taking her hands into his own, he kissed their backs tenderly. "Another night, pet..." If she'd still love him after this mess...
"Right, okay.." she nodded, trying to hide the disappoint wallowing in her throat. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
"Of course, pet. I can't stand to be without you, you know," he whispered gently as he laid a soft kiss on her cheek.
She seemed stunned at the comment. He was being amazing, but so mysterious at the same time. She sighed, realizing that she was acting like a lovesick fool. Pushing men away was her specialty; yet she didn't think coming on too strong with Spike would push him away. Maybe it was.
"I love you. Never forget that, Buffy." He kissed her lips, and their contact felt like a mere shadow. It left her wanting more. It felt haunted.
"I love you too, Spike..." she replied breathily.
He stood up, heading for the door.
She followed after, lagging. "Wish you would stay..." she started, beginning to plead once more.
He was already gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike took off down the street quickly. He knew he shouldn't have left so abruptly, but Dru could be out there somewhere and he had to find out what she was up to. For Buffy's sake... right??
At least that's how he felt deep down. He loved her with all he was, and all he wished he was. He had to be sure this was Dru. He also knew the Slayer would probably beat him to a bloody pulp if she found out he was keeping this from her, even if he argued it was to protect her. She hated to be protected, and frankly, she didn't need protection. So then, did he really want to protect Drusilla?
Spike knew without a doubt in his mind the one he truly loved was Buffy. He never loved anyone the way he loved her. But, Dru... Dru was not only his sire, but his lover for over a century. You didn't just forget that... You didn't just go up to your sire, your lover, and stake them in the heart because it threatened the love of your life, and many other lifetimes. Did you?
Spike growled with uncertainty and he patted his leather duster in search of salvation. It was times like these that gum didn't cut it. He fished out the remnants of an old pack of cigarettes. He lit it quickly, before his mind changed and inhaled deeply.
God, he missed this. But kissing the Slayer more than made up for the loss of his smokes.
He headed for the mansion, hoping to find Dru and drive her out of Sunnydale before something they all regretted happened. Part of him hoped this wasn't his dark queen and he could go back home to Buffy and make up his wanker-ish behavior to her all night.
But there was another part of him that wondered what his Princess would say about his new relationship. She'd seemed to know, in her warped, psychic mind, that he loved the Slayer before he himself knew it. Course, he laughed taking a drag, he thought she was completely off her rocker then. Now, he knew she was right. Perhaps that's why she was back. Now that Buffy loved him in return, she wanted vengeance of some sort? The slayer that stole the vampire from his centennial lover, from the one that breathed death and blood into his veins and took him unto a world of darkness. Then again, Dru's messenger had said they'd both die. Could it be, that his Drusilla wanted him to be dusty? Her William? Dru may have been loopy, but she'd never been spiteful to him.
Cor, she had to know that he wouldn't have staked her when he'd tied her and Buffy up. Well, if she did, perhaps he had to rethink staking her himself. If she did endanger Buffy's life... he couldn't even think about that, refused to at the moment. He wasn't sure he'd know what to do.
"Bloody hell, Spike. Find out if it is Dru first, worry about the rest later. The rate you're going mate, you'll be no good for anything. You know you love Buffy. If Dru tried to hurt her, you'd run her through with the wood yourself and you bloody well know it, you soddin' ponce." he flicked his ashes. "Right?" He groaned. "Damn... I hate women..." he growled. "Great, you're a real nancy boy now, talkin' to yerself and shit..."
Okay, so maybe he was a little scared, or nervous rather. Yeah. Nervous. Not scared. On one hand, he had to keep this hidden from Buffy. At least until he was sure it was Dru. If it was, he'd deal with it from there. He wasn't sure Buffy would understand the loyalty he had towards Dru. She'd probably consider it more a love thing than a loyalty thing, knowing how her mind worked. And on the other hand, he wanted to tell her, because he knew that she'd be brassed off if he kept it hidden. Not to mention, she might think he'd gone evil again....
But... if he found Dru, got rid of her and neither of them were hurt, they'd all be better off. Well, he'd sleep better at night in any case.
Tossing his butt into the street, he exhaled the last of the smoke and strode with purpose to the mansion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, that was just fanfuckingtastic. No trace of her anywhere. The old factory, the mansion, the usual vamp haunts, nothing. Not a goddamn fucking thing. It should have been a good thing, though, wasn't it? Perhaps this meant it wasn't Drusilla after all. Then again, maybe she'd just improved on her hide and seek game since he'd last seen her.
Anger pounded in waves over his body. He hated it when he couldn't do something to control the situation. Though, maybe this just meant there was nothing to worry about, and it was just some wanker who thought himself/herself a master vampire and that he could tangle with the Big Bad and his Slayer.
It was near dawn as he pounded down the streets of Sunnyhell at a quick pace, telling himself next time it might be smart to grab the bike or the Desoto when traveling so late.
The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and Spike thought it might be a sign from the PTBs. Or they were fucking with him again. Probably both.
Buffy's house was closer than his crypt... and well, he felt like a wanker for walking out on her earlier that night. He'd make it up to her now, not to mention he'd save his hide from an unwanted, and doubtlessly painful suntan in the meantime. Thinking her, he realized he missed her terribly all of a sudden. The prospect of not seeing her made him feel as if he might go mad. He needed to feel her warm embrace and her soft lips. He needed to smell her scent that was sometimes vanilla and sometimes strawberries, and he wanted to taste her creamy skin, feel her heartbeat beneath his hand, sure and strong, and reassuring. He needed her to tell him she loved him, and that in it self gave them enough power to take on whatever the world was about to throw at them.
It was scant minutes from sunrise when he realized he'd wandered a bit aimlessly, lost in daydreams of her. He cursed himself and took off at run for Revello Drive.
"Of all the dumb luck," he growled, running up her steps, his duster beginning to smoke as the sun peeked over the horizon. He pounded on the door, hoping Dawn wouldn't be woken up by his careless slamming. "Slayer!!!"
He hissed at the sun, as a stray ray flashed over his delicate skin. "Buffy!!!" he shouted, closing his eyes, calling her name out over and over.
The door flung open quick and he was violently pulled inside and into the safety of the shadows.
He collapsed onto the steps as the door shut quickly behind him.
The hissing and popping of his skin diminished and he sighed in relief. "Thanks, luv."
"Spike, Jesus Christ almighty, are you trying to kill yourself?!" Buffy hissed, at his side in an instant and looking over his slightly smoking skin. She was torn between smacking him for being such an idiot and cooing over her poor, burnt baby.
"Kill myself? Not when I've got you to look forward to pet, no..." he patted the smoke off his duster. "Just felt like getting meself a nice ol' tan..."
She smacked his arm. "What the hell are you doing here?"
He chuckled, thinking how much she sounded like the old Buffy. The one who despised him. Now, there was only concern behind her harshness. "Missed you terribly, pet."
She sighed, melting a little. "You coulda just stayed last night."
"Hadda take care of a few things," he responded easily for her benefit, winking. "Found out after a bit that I couldn't stay away." He caressed her cheek softly. "Don't know why," he murmured, eyes locked on hers.
She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I'm glad you're back." When her eyes opened they were clouded with confusion. "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere special, luv...." he shook his head, standing. "Just a few loose ends tied up."
She eyed him, unsure as whether or not to believe him. "So...." she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and drop it. "Guess you're stuck here until sunset..."
"Yeah...'less you really do want me to improve my tan," he teased.
She slipped her arms under his duster, encircling his waist. "I think you look fine just the way you are. Good enough to eat," she whispered conspirationally, pulling him close, eyes looking up into his as she brushed her lips softly against his cool ones. The way his eyes locked on her, their sparkling blue intensity, always made her lose control of herself. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, parting her lips slightly.
Spike wasted no time taking her up on her invitation and he purred softly into her mouth, his tongue exploring the unique taste that was hers alone. He rested his forehead against hers, groaning in self-loathing. "Bloody hell, Slayer, you got me acting like some bloody house cat...purring whenever you touch me...." he whispered huskily, half in annoyance and half in wonder. "Do you have any idea what the hell you do to me?"
She smiled with a kind of feminine satisfaction, reveling in the feel of the slightest contact with him. He growled low in his throat and the coquettish look she gave him, and with barely restrained lust, assaulted her mouth his, his tongue doing things to hers that made her lose her mind. "Mhhmm..." Her heart pounded heavily in her chest and she breathed deeply. The sounds he could make, that mischief in his eyes, always pushed her over the edge. It was so intoxicating; primal and full of promise. It made her feel powerful, in that she could do that to him, and she liked it. Though she supposed he had the power to make her do things she normally wouldn't. She knew he loved the way he could make her mewl like a newborn kitten, make her writhe and squirm under his touch. The power they had over each other was welcome, balancing, a heady combination of chemistry and passion.
She tipped her head back, exposing her throat to his mouth, to be devoured or caressed, she didn't care. Her eyes closed tightly and she groaned intimately when his lips crashed upon the hollow of her throat, tracing a path along her jugular and up to her chin in a series of maddening nips and licks. She nearly cried aloud.
"Spike..."
He could hear her heart pounding and her blood pumping through her veins with such intensity, his head ached momentarily. "Slayer..." he growled, a bit ferocious. Before he knew it, his growls turned into purrs again, as her hands worked their way into his wild, platinum locks. He nibbled at her throat, reveling in the taste of her.
She smiled; satisfied at the work his mouth was doing at her throat. His blunt human teeth were driving her insane. She trusted him completely so she dipped her throat back further, inviting more of his ministrations.
His insides quivered with want and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd regret it. He couldn't believe how trustingly she presented her neck to him; just inviting him to it. He pulled away, eyes closed. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "Buffy..."
"I trust you, Spike. I trust you with all my heart. Never forget that," she echoed his words from earlier, and tilted her head back up, eyes on him.
He looked into hers, brushing back her wild hair in a gesture so tender that it seemed out of place amidst what they were doing to each other currently. They stood like that for a long time, lost in each other's eyes. His hand ran the length of her to the waist, gently, reverently. "I know you do, pet, I know. I just want to hold you right now, never stop touching you."
She stifled a yawn, smiling, with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Sounds better than heaven..." she gripped his hand in hers, leading him to her room. "But promise to never let go?"
"Swear it, baby." He followed up after her, his undead heart filled with warmth at her comment. Looking at her as she led him, he was convinced he was truly the luckiest bloke on the face of this earth, and all other dimensions alike.
Her room was darkened perfectly, and he watched as she sunk into bed, waiting for him. He thought back briefly to the times where he stood outside her window, wanting so desperately to be in here with her, holding her, loving her. To think it was all his and only his now, was almost too good to be true.
He let his duster fall to the floor with a whoosh, and tore off his blue button down and black t-shirt. All the time, his eyes on her, and she watched him in return. He kicked off his boots and unbuckled his belt. He slipped into the bed beside her and nearly died a second time. She slipped against his cold, muscled chest and snuggled against him, pressing kisses onto his skin in a manner that threatened to make him burn from the inside out.
She pulled the blanket over them, resting her head in the crook of his neck and sighed happily. She noticed how perfectly the frame of her body fitted to his, one leg draped across his jean clad legs. Her arm was draped across his chest lovingly caressing his muscled abs, enjoying how they jumped and quivered under her touch.
Spike was lost in the scent of her. Her golden hair was inches from his nose; her beautiful face buried against his neck. She was wrapped around him like they were long time lovers, slipping into their partners embrace, two pieces of a puzzle snapped together. He pulled her into him further, an arm wrapped around her soft frame possessively. She breathed softly, sending warm breaths across his bare chest, soon falling into a pattern that told him she was fast asleep.
He snuggled into her, emitting one last satisfied purr, closing his eyes. This was what home felt like. This was the love he always wondered about. Nothing was more wonderful than holding her right now. When the time came that he could hold her warm flesh upon his cooler flesh, after making love to her, he would know what it was like to touch heaven's gates. He would know serenity. For now he would take this little piece of heaven, and treasure it with all his undead being.