8.
She could smell his skin. Warm and salty with just a hint of soap to it. And over that, the faintest touch of washing powder from the linen shirt he was wearing.
She tried to remember how he'd smelt before. She thought faintly of earth, damp earth and leather. Occasionally there was something else too, a dry iron-filings smell that made her skin creep, set her teeth on edge, a scent that clung all over him. The smell of blood.
She drew a breath, slowly, filling her lungs with it. The new smell of Spike. Closed her eyes. It smelt like sunshine, like newly-washed sheets hung out to dry in a breeze. Better than fresh coffee or warm bread, better than...she opened her eyes and he was looking at her with the ghost of a pure-Spike smile.
"Are you O.K?"
Oh my God. Had she...was she just sniffing him? She felt colour rising up through her face, fought to keep it down, below the top of her polo-neck.
"No....I mean yes, sorry. Getting one of those...summer cold things."
His eyes widened a fraction, the smile turning to mock-serious concern.
"In October. You have to watch those. Could turn into...you know...the fall variety."
Damn him. Him and his stupid Spike-ability to tell when she was lying, when she was thinking...stuff...she shouldn't be thinking about. It didn't mean anything anyway, she was sure. That other night, with the cheesecake- finger thing, that was just...it was just a silly joke. The sort of thing friends do all the time. Although obviously not the sort of thing she'd ever do with Willow...or to Xander. It was just, they were just kidding around, although...she felt an involuntary shiver as she remembered the feel of his lips closing over the tip of her index finger, the soft touch of his tongue as he...jeez. Get a hold of yourself. She snuck another glance at him, saw he was smiling again.
"Are we almost there?"
God, when had her voice developed that intensely irritating nasal quality? She sounded like Dawn. Xander turned his head, gave her a look of incredulous irritation.
"Will you quit asking me that! I told you. About another five minutes."
He turned back to the road, shook his head.
"For Pete's Sake, it's less than ten miles! You're acting like you've been back there all day."
It felt like it. She'd wanted to spend time with him, she'd told him that. Time to get to know each other again, feel each other out. Without the feeling part. But this? This was too much time. And too little space. Cramped together in the back seat of Xander's car surrounded by lumber, her thigh crushed against his hip and every bend forcing them closer still. Her hand slipping on the sweaty vinyl, sending her sprawling into his lap every five minutes.
"What do you need all this wood for anyway? Don't we still have the other wood...the wood that we got last week and also the wood...that was the shop and the shelves?"
"I've used it all. Besides I wanted to add a few things, you know...improve on the original. Anya wants a new area for talismans, plus the whole black arts section has to come out and that wall shored up. Then there's the new counter and...."
"Hey look! World's Largest Onion!"
And then silence. She thought she heard Xander softly grind his molars. Spike continued to point until the sign was long out of sight.
"So.....much wood needed is what you're saying. Good. Wood is good."
She'd just make it worse, trying to cover for him. The tension was there again, always threatening whenever it was just the three of them. Xander forever acutely aware of the residual Spikeness, the possibility of a sudden lapse. And you'd think the addition of a soul might have effected his intuition, help him to sense when he'd over-stepped the mark. She watched him with narrowed eyes. That innocent look was so studied. Who did he think he was kidding? Xander cleared his throat, signalled, took the next exit labelled Sunnydale. Spike rolled down his window.
What was this all about anyway. No one had asked him to come. Xander needed some help loading the car up? She was there, she was all the help he would ever need. But Spike? What was his story? Xander might be dealing with his reappearance in a startlingly adult fashion but he still wasn't exactly hankering after his company, and she knew the feeling was entirely mutual.
Was it a ploy maybe? An excuse to spend time with her? They hadn't seen much of him this week, what with his trying to organise somewhere permanent to live and their visiting Willow. Maybe he'd missed her. She glanced over again. He had his head fully out the window now, eyes closed. Maybe not. Maybe he just liked cars.
Thank God. They'd passed Sunnydale High. Almost home.
"You guys want to come in? Dawn'll be back soon, we were going to order pizza."
She thought she saw Xander waver, his eyes flicking to the rear view, seeing Spike's interest,
"Ah...you know....thanks, but I won't. I promised Anya I'd massage her ankles tonight."
Was that a snort? She wished to God he'd try a little harder to control himself.
"O.K. Well...I'll see you tomorrow then. Bright and....reasonably early."
He pulled into the kerb,
"Yeah. Put those Slayer muscles to work."
Silence. The engine idled. They looked at each other. Blank.
"You'll have to get out. This side....I can't get over the wood."
God, what was wrong with him? It was like he was in a coma or something. Was he on medication or something?
"Oh...sorry..."
opened the door, climbed out, let her out after him. Stood with door open. More silence. He looked back inside the car, back at her. Did she have to say it? She could see Xander's face in the side view, a look that spoke of brotherly concern and more than a just smattering of teenage jealousy. Was she really going to invite him into the house? To be alone...with just her...and him? Together? When she knew where it could lead? She saw him start to open his mouth, ask Spike where he wanted to be dropped.
"So do you want... are you coming in? I mean...Dawn'll be back in a while...but we could...do...something...until she...does?"
God, that sounded...wierd. Xander rolled his eyes. Stow it Xander. This is my life, my house. I'll do what I want. If I want to ask an ex-vampire into my home, I can. And if I want to feed him cheesecake, let him suck my fingers. Jeez, what was this? She knew what it felt like. Like she was asking him on a date or something. What was the deal here? And now he was frowning as well. Confusing the hell out of her.
"O.K, well... I'll see you...both."
and Xander was gone, pulling away a little too hastily, leaving them both a touch self-conscious. She found her pockets, stuffed her hands into them.
"Right. O.K then."
Shit. Was he just going to stand there now? This was insane. One minute he was there on her doorstep, wanting to go for a ride, anywhere with her, the next...he looked like he'd rather go have root canal work. Maybe it was Xander he wanted. That was it. He wanted Xander. She shook herself out of it, started up the path. And now he wasn't following. She turned and saw him looking at her. Unreadable. He was always unreadable these days.
"I always used to know what you were thinking."
And sometimes she just forgot who he was now. She couldn't just say this sort of thing to him anymore. He smiled a little, quizzical.
"Now?"
God, he was making this hard. Couldn't they just talk about normal stuff? TV, Dawn. Did it all have to be like this still? The questions? The soul- searching? The tortured love?
"Now...I can't tell. I wish I could."
He inclined his head slightly,
"I could tell you, if you like."
Did she want him to? Did she really wish that? And she knew that wasn't the question he was really asking. He was asking for her permission, permission to feel something for her again. She could sense his wanting to just let go, in exactly the same way she did. Forget everything that had happened in the past between them and just go with this, the thing between them that had been there ever since that first night he returned, human. Different from what they'd had before, but so powerful, even more so than the dark thing, the raw thing that had meant so much to her. And that was what had been stopping her, the strangeness of it, the dizzy sick feeling she got whenever she even thought about kissing him now, letting him touch her, taste her skin. She wanted the new Spike, but...God this was hard to admit to herself. She was still a little in love with the old.
Could she tell him that. Could she? And if she could, what would that mean? He wanted the old Spike gone. He'd burnt the coat. He'd told her to call him William. And she'd called him...what was it...'a souless, evil creature'. And now what? Tell him that's what she wanted? He took a step or two towards her now and she wondered if he sensed her confusion or was that another vampire trait that had fallen by the wayside, along with the super-strength, the incredibly acute hearing? What else was different about him?
He was just inches away, but still safe. No threat here. But she could smell him again, that clean, new smell that made her face heat up. Was the Slayer blushing now? Trying desperately to retain some of the cool poise he was exhibiting, while her hands mashed the lining of her pockets to a sweaty pulp.
"Most of the time I'm thinking how much I want to kiss you."
She felt her stomach twisting in knots, wanting to shut him up, shove him away, pull him close, all things at once.
"But just then? I was wondering...how much longer Dawn was really going to be."
And that was it. Even if her brain couldn't make up her mind for her, his mouth would. Leaned into him, found his lips and then the rush, crazy blood pounding it's way up through her temples, making her legs buckle, her whole stomach filling with warmth as his hands found her hips, pulled her in.
Fleeting thought. They were on the porch, in broad daylight.
And then the rush again as his hand came up to her breast, pushed her back again the door. He broke, breathing hard, eyes vivid blue like the sky behind him.
"Want to know what I'm thinking now?"
They were half way up the stairs now, he was underneath, hands under her t- shirt, sliding over her back, her breasts again, pulling her down to him.
Another thought. They were right in front of the door. Dawn could walk in any minute.
And then he was on his feet, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands locked under her, her hands in his hair, down between them to his fly. Against the wall, knocking the pictures sideways. She started to laugh, found he was too, found his lip, pulled it into her mouth, tasted salty blood. Shoved him down to the floor with her whole weight, ripped the shirt open, the buttons off.
Were they going to do it right here? On the rug? In front of her Mom's room? In front of Dawn's? And then up again, backing along the hall, still pulling at each other's clothes, his shirt off, her's, and then bare- breasted against his chest, dragging at his jeans, dragging at her's, his mouth hungry on her's, her whole body going into a full-on melt down as she pushed him back onto her bed. One arm looped up around her neck, bringing her face down to him again, a hand on one hip, pulling her on top and then....god in heaven. Staring down into his beautiful face, as his eyes closed, her mouth came open wordlessly. Fingers catching in her hair, finding her hips again, thumbs pressing down as the unmistakable sound of the back door opening reached both their ears.
"Buffy! You back? Is it OK if I come up and use your CD player?"
And the sound of teenage feet on stairs and both scrambling for the door, like a bizarre naked wheelbarrow race, his hand going for the handle, her foot kicking out, simultaneous shouts,
"No...Dawn...no...you..."
And she knew she must have seen, because that look on her face, in the split second, caught in the inch wide gap just before it slammed shut. They lay on the rug, limbs twisted impossibly, her legs still firmly locked around the small of his back. Panting.
Small voice on the other side.
"Or I could...you know....come and...play my CD later."
A couple of footsteps. Her own door opening,
"When you aren't having crazy naked sex with Spike."
She could smell his skin. Warm and salty with just a hint of soap to it. And over that, the faintest touch of washing powder from the linen shirt he was wearing.
She tried to remember how he'd smelt before. She thought faintly of earth, damp earth and leather. Occasionally there was something else too, a dry iron-filings smell that made her skin creep, set her teeth on edge, a scent that clung all over him. The smell of blood.
She drew a breath, slowly, filling her lungs with it. The new smell of Spike. Closed her eyes. It smelt like sunshine, like newly-washed sheets hung out to dry in a breeze. Better than fresh coffee or warm bread, better than...she opened her eyes and he was looking at her with the ghost of a pure-Spike smile.
"Are you O.K?"
Oh my God. Had she...was she just sniffing him? She felt colour rising up through her face, fought to keep it down, below the top of her polo-neck.
"No....I mean yes, sorry. Getting one of those...summer cold things."
His eyes widened a fraction, the smile turning to mock-serious concern.
"In October. You have to watch those. Could turn into...you know...the fall variety."
Damn him. Him and his stupid Spike-ability to tell when she was lying, when she was thinking...stuff...she shouldn't be thinking about. It didn't mean anything anyway, she was sure. That other night, with the cheesecake- finger thing, that was just...it was just a silly joke. The sort of thing friends do all the time. Although obviously not the sort of thing she'd ever do with Willow...or to Xander. It was just, they were just kidding around, although...she felt an involuntary shiver as she remembered the feel of his lips closing over the tip of her index finger, the soft touch of his tongue as he...jeez. Get a hold of yourself. She snuck another glance at him, saw he was smiling again.
"Are we almost there?"
God, when had her voice developed that intensely irritating nasal quality? She sounded like Dawn. Xander turned his head, gave her a look of incredulous irritation.
"Will you quit asking me that! I told you. About another five minutes."
He turned back to the road, shook his head.
"For Pete's Sake, it's less than ten miles! You're acting like you've been back there all day."
It felt like it. She'd wanted to spend time with him, she'd told him that. Time to get to know each other again, feel each other out. Without the feeling part. But this? This was too much time. And too little space. Cramped together in the back seat of Xander's car surrounded by lumber, her thigh crushed against his hip and every bend forcing them closer still. Her hand slipping on the sweaty vinyl, sending her sprawling into his lap every five minutes.
"What do you need all this wood for anyway? Don't we still have the other wood...the wood that we got last week and also the wood...that was the shop and the shelves?"
"I've used it all. Besides I wanted to add a few things, you know...improve on the original. Anya wants a new area for talismans, plus the whole black arts section has to come out and that wall shored up. Then there's the new counter and...."
"Hey look! World's Largest Onion!"
And then silence. She thought she heard Xander softly grind his molars. Spike continued to point until the sign was long out of sight.
"So.....much wood needed is what you're saying. Good. Wood is good."
She'd just make it worse, trying to cover for him. The tension was there again, always threatening whenever it was just the three of them. Xander forever acutely aware of the residual Spikeness, the possibility of a sudden lapse. And you'd think the addition of a soul might have effected his intuition, help him to sense when he'd over-stepped the mark. She watched him with narrowed eyes. That innocent look was so studied. Who did he think he was kidding? Xander cleared his throat, signalled, took the next exit labelled Sunnydale. Spike rolled down his window.
What was this all about anyway. No one had asked him to come. Xander needed some help loading the car up? She was there, she was all the help he would ever need. But Spike? What was his story? Xander might be dealing with his reappearance in a startlingly adult fashion but he still wasn't exactly hankering after his company, and she knew the feeling was entirely mutual.
Was it a ploy maybe? An excuse to spend time with her? They hadn't seen much of him this week, what with his trying to organise somewhere permanent to live and their visiting Willow. Maybe he'd missed her. She glanced over again. He had his head fully out the window now, eyes closed. Maybe not. Maybe he just liked cars.
Thank God. They'd passed Sunnydale High. Almost home.
"You guys want to come in? Dawn'll be back soon, we were going to order pizza."
She thought she saw Xander waver, his eyes flicking to the rear view, seeing Spike's interest,
"Ah...you know....thanks, but I won't. I promised Anya I'd massage her ankles tonight."
Was that a snort? She wished to God he'd try a little harder to control himself.
"O.K. Well...I'll see you tomorrow then. Bright and....reasonably early."
He pulled into the kerb,
"Yeah. Put those Slayer muscles to work."
Silence. The engine idled. They looked at each other. Blank.
"You'll have to get out. This side....I can't get over the wood."
God, what was wrong with him? It was like he was in a coma or something. Was he on medication or something?
"Oh...sorry..."
opened the door, climbed out, let her out after him. Stood with door open. More silence. He looked back inside the car, back at her. Did she have to say it? She could see Xander's face in the side view, a look that spoke of brotherly concern and more than a just smattering of teenage jealousy. Was she really going to invite him into the house? To be alone...with just her...and him? Together? When she knew where it could lead? She saw him start to open his mouth, ask Spike where he wanted to be dropped.
"So do you want... are you coming in? I mean...Dawn'll be back in a while...but we could...do...something...until she...does?"
God, that sounded...wierd. Xander rolled his eyes. Stow it Xander. This is my life, my house. I'll do what I want. If I want to ask an ex-vampire into my home, I can. And if I want to feed him cheesecake, let him suck my fingers. Jeez, what was this? She knew what it felt like. Like she was asking him on a date or something. What was the deal here? And now he was frowning as well. Confusing the hell out of her.
"O.K, well... I'll see you...both."
and Xander was gone, pulling away a little too hastily, leaving them both a touch self-conscious. She found her pockets, stuffed her hands into them.
"Right. O.K then."
Shit. Was he just going to stand there now? This was insane. One minute he was there on her doorstep, wanting to go for a ride, anywhere with her, the next...he looked like he'd rather go have root canal work. Maybe it was Xander he wanted. That was it. He wanted Xander. She shook herself out of it, started up the path. And now he wasn't following. She turned and saw him looking at her. Unreadable. He was always unreadable these days.
"I always used to know what you were thinking."
And sometimes she just forgot who he was now. She couldn't just say this sort of thing to him anymore. He smiled a little, quizzical.
"Now?"
God, he was making this hard. Couldn't they just talk about normal stuff? TV, Dawn. Did it all have to be like this still? The questions? The soul- searching? The tortured love?
"Now...I can't tell. I wish I could."
He inclined his head slightly,
"I could tell you, if you like."
Did she want him to? Did she really wish that? And she knew that wasn't the question he was really asking. He was asking for her permission, permission to feel something for her again. She could sense his wanting to just let go, in exactly the same way she did. Forget everything that had happened in the past between them and just go with this, the thing between them that had been there ever since that first night he returned, human. Different from what they'd had before, but so powerful, even more so than the dark thing, the raw thing that had meant so much to her. And that was what had been stopping her, the strangeness of it, the dizzy sick feeling she got whenever she even thought about kissing him now, letting him touch her, taste her skin. She wanted the new Spike, but...God this was hard to admit to herself. She was still a little in love with the old.
Could she tell him that. Could she? And if she could, what would that mean? He wanted the old Spike gone. He'd burnt the coat. He'd told her to call him William. And she'd called him...what was it...'a souless, evil creature'. And now what? Tell him that's what she wanted? He took a step or two towards her now and she wondered if he sensed her confusion or was that another vampire trait that had fallen by the wayside, along with the super-strength, the incredibly acute hearing? What else was different about him?
He was just inches away, but still safe. No threat here. But she could smell him again, that clean, new smell that made her face heat up. Was the Slayer blushing now? Trying desperately to retain some of the cool poise he was exhibiting, while her hands mashed the lining of her pockets to a sweaty pulp.
"Most of the time I'm thinking how much I want to kiss you."
She felt her stomach twisting in knots, wanting to shut him up, shove him away, pull him close, all things at once.
"But just then? I was wondering...how much longer Dawn was really going to be."
And that was it. Even if her brain couldn't make up her mind for her, his mouth would. Leaned into him, found his lips and then the rush, crazy blood pounding it's way up through her temples, making her legs buckle, her whole stomach filling with warmth as his hands found her hips, pulled her in.
Fleeting thought. They were on the porch, in broad daylight.
And then the rush again as his hand came up to her breast, pushed her back again the door. He broke, breathing hard, eyes vivid blue like the sky behind him.
"Want to know what I'm thinking now?"
They were half way up the stairs now, he was underneath, hands under her t- shirt, sliding over her back, her breasts again, pulling her down to him.
Another thought. They were right in front of the door. Dawn could walk in any minute.
And then he was on his feet, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands locked under her, her hands in his hair, down between them to his fly. Against the wall, knocking the pictures sideways. She started to laugh, found he was too, found his lip, pulled it into her mouth, tasted salty blood. Shoved him down to the floor with her whole weight, ripped the shirt open, the buttons off.
Were they going to do it right here? On the rug? In front of her Mom's room? In front of Dawn's? And then up again, backing along the hall, still pulling at each other's clothes, his shirt off, her's, and then bare- breasted against his chest, dragging at his jeans, dragging at her's, his mouth hungry on her's, her whole body going into a full-on melt down as she pushed him back onto her bed. One arm looped up around her neck, bringing her face down to him again, a hand on one hip, pulling her on top and then....god in heaven. Staring down into his beautiful face, as his eyes closed, her mouth came open wordlessly. Fingers catching in her hair, finding her hips again, thumbs pressing down as the unmistakable sound of the back door opening reached both their ears.
"Buffy! You back? Is it OK if I come up and use your CD player?"
And the sound of teenage feet on stairs and both scrambling for the door, like a bizarre naked wheelbarrow race, his hand going for the handle, her foot kicking out, simultaneous shouts,
"No...Dawn...no...you..."
And she knew she must have seen, because that look on her face, in the split second, caught in the inch wide gap just before it slammed shut. They lay on the rug, limbs twisted impossibly, her legs still firmly locked around the small of his back. Panting.
Small voice on the other side.
"Or I could...you know....come and...play my CD later."
A couple of footsteps. Her own door opening,
"When you aren't having crazy naked sex with Spike."
