Buffy opened her eyes. She laid on the bed in the wreck of her room.
He was there, next to her on her bed, watching her.
"You bastard," she said punching him in the nose, sending him off the bed.
He picked himself up and dusted a feather off his arm. He figured that she knew. She knew something about the plan. How just an hour ago the blood of the slayer had closed the Sunnydale hell mouth forever. It hadn't been her blood. She was understandably angry. She would be for days. The aftermath probably wouldn't be pretty. She didn't like plots behind her back.
She lunged at him.
"Soulless, sadistic lying bastard,"
She pummeled him. He didn't know if she meant lying about Dru or lying to keep her here. He just let her hit him. It felt good, it meant that she was still alive. He could deal with the pain of her fists if it meant she was still there.
He just watched her, knowing his Slayer would live another day.
She hated him, but she saw something in his eyes. He was completely relieved. His blue eyes were too much.
She kissed him.
"It should have been me," she growled pushing him away.
"No," he snarled and tangled his hands in her hair pulling her to his lips.
"Bullocks, You have given your entire life. Too many people need you."
He said against her lips.
"I need you."
She knew it. It was nothing new. This time it hit her hard.
This man had stood by her side. He had no reason. He could choose to be her arch enemy. However he chosen her. Her above all others. Her fight was his fight because she believed in it. Those she loved he would protect because it would kill her to loose any of them.
"I love you."
She said simply. In that moment she knew it was true.
He was shaking, he could not believe what he was hearing.
He untangled his fingers from her hair and kissed her again. He was drowning in her. They couldn't stop. The buttons of her shirt, she tore off his shirt. It was angry and it was hard. They had done this before. This was their routine. They knew that if they continued on this path they would end up shaking and fulfilled.
But there was something different about this time.
Buffy stopped and looked up at him. Spike was afraid she had changed her mind. But he looked into her eyes and he saw something that he had never seen in her eyes. The green was clear and full of wonder. They were watery and so sure. The look was focused on him.
She looked at him with such purity that at first he felt dirty. He looked away, but her hand turned his head to look at her.
She didn't say anything. She just looked. She worshipped. Her fingers traced lightly over the sharp edges of his face.
All the months of stalking, berating, and attempting to forcibly push her into loving him had not prepared him for this moment of love.
'I understand how the poof lost his soul,' he thought as her eyes and her hands memorized his face, like she had never seen him before and never would again. 'Bloody hell I'd give her my soul if I had one.'
Then William the Bloody, aka Spike, self proclaimed big bad looked down at the Slayer and kissed her. It was soft and sweet and told of the promise of love.
When they pulled away they began to explore each other's bodies. They had been lovers, but this was new territory. Neither closed their eyes, they needed to watch, to see the other. The noises made were uncontrollable and more like prayers than passion. It was completion.
***
Young love so often does not realize outside forces when they are amidst passion. For Buffy and Spike this is the understatement.
The curtains on the window were wide open. Ten minutes into their love-making the sun began to stream through the window.
Curiously enough at that moment something happened.
So lost in the revelry of togetherness Buffy failed to comprehend the morning light touching his hair. The platinum softened in the morning light. It glowed like a halo. Buffy marveled at the way in which her fingers ran through spun gold. The ease of the morning light touched his body. It created shadows on his sculpted chest. He was a being of shadows and light. The greatest of contrasts.
Buffy suddenly felt unworthy. He was an unearthly being. He glowed with all the light of the sun. He was a gift from heaven.
Spike looked down at her eyes again and he inhaled. This wasn't the breath of a predator tracking its prey. It was the breath of life. So long had it been since he had felt his own body alive, he barely noticed the way his heart beat at the sight of her. He put the dizziness down to the feeling of loving her.
She felt the flush of his skin and the beat of the pulse at the nape of his neck. It was an echo of her.
He slid into her gently. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was riveted.
When they came it lasted an eternity. They were breathless and their hearts were beating so hard in their chests that they could barely contain the waves coursing though their bodies.
Still they were unable to look away from each other. They held the gaze, breathing hard. Their breaths intertwined.
Then Spike began to smoke.
He was there, next to her on her bed, watching her.
"You bastard," she said punching him in the nose, sending him off the bed.
He picked himself up and dusted a feather off his arm. He figured that she knew. She knew something about the plan. How just an hour ago the blood of the slayer had closed the Sunnydale hell mouth forever. It hadn't been her blood. She was understandably angry. She would be for days. The aftermath probably wouldn't be pretty. She didn't like plots behind her back.
She lunged at him.
"Soulless, sadistic lying bastard,"
She pummeled him. He didn't know if she meant lying about Dru or lying to keep her here. He just let her hit him. It felt good, it meant that she was still alive. He could deal with the pain of her fists if it meant she was still there.
He just watched her, knowing his Slayer would live another day.
She hated him, but she saw something in his eyes. He was completely relieved. His blue eyes were too much.
She kissed him.
"It should have been me," she growled pushing him away.
"No," he snarled and tangled his hands in her hair pulling her to his lips.
"Bullocks, You have given your entire life. Too many people need you."
He said against her lips.
"I need you."
She knew it. It was nothing new. This time it hit her hard.
This man had stood by her side. He had no reason. He could choose to be her arch enemy. However he chosen her. Her above all others. Her fight was his fight because she believed in it. Those she loved he would protect because it would kill her to loose any of them.
"I love you."
She said simply. In that moment she knew it was true.
He was shaking, he could not believe what he was hearing.
He untangled his fingers from her hair and kissed her again. He was drowning in her. They couldn't stop. The buttons of her shirt, she tore off his shirt. It was angry and it was hard. They had done this before. This was their routine. They knew that if they continued on this path they would end up shaking and fulfilled.
But there was something different about this time.
Buffy stopped and looked up at him. Spike was afraid she had changed her mind. But he looked into her eyes and he saw something that he had never seen in her eyes. The green was clear and full of wonder. They were watery and so sure. The look was focused on him.
She looked at him with such purity that at first he felt dirty. He looked away, but her hand turned his head to look at her.
She didn't say anything. She just looked. She worshipped. Her fingers traced lightly over the sharp edges of his face.
All the months of stalking, berating, and attempting to forcibly push her into loving him had not prepared him for this moment of love.
'I understand how the poof lost his soul,' he thought as her eyes and her hands memorized his face, like she had never seen him before and never would again. 'Bloody hell I'd give her my soul if I had one.'
Then William the Bloody, aka Spike, self proclaimed big bad looked down at the Slayer and kissed her. It was soft and sweet and told of the promise of love.
When they pulled away they began to explore each other's bodies. They had been lovers, but this was new territory. Neither closed their eyes, they needed to watch, to see the other. The noises made were uncontrollable and more like prayers than passion. It was completion.
***
Young love so often does not realize outside forces when they are amidst passion. For Buffy and Spike this is the understatement.
The curtains on the window were wide open. Ten minutes into their love-making the sun began to stream through the window.
Curiously enough at that moment something happened.
So lost in the revelry of togetherness Buffy failed to comprehend the morning light touching his hair. The platinum softened in the morning light. It glowed like a halo. Buffy marveled at the way in which her fingers ran through spun gold. The ease of the morning light touched his body. It created shadows on his sculpted chest. He was a being of shadows and light. The greatest of contrasts.
Buffy suddenly felt unworthy. He was an unearthly being. He glowed with all the light of the sun. He was a gift from heaven.
Spike looked down at her eyes again and he inhaled. This wasn't the breath of a predator tracking its prey. It was the breath of life. So long had it been since he had felt his own body alive, he barely noticed the way his heart beat at the sight of her. He put the dizziness down to the feeling of loving her.
She felt the flush of his skin and the beat of the pulse at the nape of his neck. It was an echo of her.
He slid into her gently. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was riveted.
When they came it lasted an eternity. They were breathless and their hearts were beating so hard in their chests that they could barely contain the waves coursing though their bodies.
Still they were unable to look away from each other. They held the gaze, breathing hard. Their breaths intertwined.
Then Spike began to smoke.