Like rising up through water, as if she was at the bottom of a well, a well filled with sound. Sliding up through the current, rocked by it, shaken by it, God...jarred by it...it was like a whirlpool, sucking her down, round and round and the noise getting louder. Someone calling her name. Thought, 'Jeez...all right...just let me get free of this....seaweed...will ya?' Her hands slapping as it twisted itself around her arms and legs, breathless now. She surfaced gasping.
"Buffy? Christ..."
The voice was sharp, petulant, a complete loss of patience,
"...about bloody time. Thought I was going have to start slapping you about."
Opened her eyes. God! Was that...Spike? Had she been knocked out? Started to struggle weakly against him,
"Get...the...hell off me!!!"
He dropped her arms with a sigh of disgust, moved away to sit to one side. She rolled, her head still swimming, brought her knees up up her chest. God and baby Jesus. Tremors shook her body, felt so bad, like she dying, like she was poisoned. Ackk. That taste in her mouth. She heard him move, slide over the floor towards her. His head appeared over her shoulder, an unreadable expression.
"So...you O.K?"
She closed her eyes, clamping her jaw shut to quell the rising nausea, God he smelt of drink and cigarettes.
"Do I look O.K?"
He sniffed, withdrew, dropped back against the cupboard next to her.
"No. You look like shit."
She groaned, a little spasm. And why was she suddenly so cold again, a minute ago she'd frying in her own skin now she felt like she was...naked? Was she naked? Panic welled up, horror, how was she naked?!!
"Where the hell are my clothes!"
A small sound from behind her made her suddenly and painfully aware of his closeness. Bastard. He had done this, I mean how fucking low could you get? Wait until the Slayer was unconscious, prone and then strip her, humiliate her, have your....Jesus!! What had he done? Felt down with one hand between her legs....had he...what had he been doing to her? A low growl brought goose bumps to her arms.
"Yeah...like I'd have to."
She rolled back onto her front to face him, eyes blazing.
"You better hope you didn't..."
A lascivious grin spread over his face and he cocked his head at her,
"Wanna be wide awake when that happens don't you?"
What was he going on about? As if she ever would. He was cracked. Managed to summon a look of disgusted condescension.
"I'd wanna to be dead before that happens."
His smile faded, replaced by a cold anger. Turned his head to the side like he'd spit, but thought better of it, picked up another tongue depressor instead and chewed on it. She held his eyes for a moment, before she had to look away. Why'd he look so damned cocky? Like he could have her if he wanted, do anything to her. She snorted, in his dreams. Felt around one-handed for her bra. His fingertips brushed against her's as he slid it to her. She shot him a glare,
"So...tell me again? Why is it that I'm naked?"
He frowned, almost a smile, but he was still pissed about something. Maybe that she'd woken up at all. Pretty sure he could do...stuff...to her if she were asleep. If she wasn't fighting back it wouldn't trigger the chip. Isn't that how it worked?
"You're saying you don't remember?"
She grimaced, turning away to fasten it around the front. Remember what?
"You don't remember why you fainted?"
He was being so cryptic, like he was going to tell her something she didn't know. She tossed a look back at him over her shoulder. Don't try and bullshit me.
"Yeah I remember. I was sick. Where's my top?"
He slung it to her, a little harder that time, it slapped her in the face.
"Thanks."
Pulled it on slowly over salty limbs, sweat dried cold and dusty all over her body.
"Why's it so cold again?"
He was looking away from her, towards the door. A muscle had started to twitch in his jaw. What was he so mad about? Maybe just his patience finally run out, feeling trapped in here at last, like they'd never get out.
"It's late. The heat's evaporating. In the desert remember?"
She shook her head, all fuzzy. Oh yeah. Checked her watch. Jeez, 10.30pm. They'd been in here for almost a whole day. Let out a sigh, long and weary.
"Spike...this is ridiculous."
He looked over at her, blue eyes glowing with a sudden intensity.
"Yeah. It is."
"It's late. No one's around. Why don't we just go for it?"
His gaze darkened in colour, going from azure to deep sapphire in a moment. Every muscle in his body tensed, and she couldn't help noticing just how impressive they really were. Particularly his arms, just the right amount of definition and power there, like he could crush you to death if he wanted to or maybe just crush you to his...chest...hey...wait a minute. What was he doing? On all fours, moving slowly towards her across the floor. She watched him curiously, a mixture of amusement and alarm. Did he think that was sexy or something...was he trying to...oh God!! Did he think she'd meant....? She threw out a hand, catching the ball of his shoulder in her palm, holding him stiffly at arms length.
"Spike, I meant the door. Why don't we just go for it."
The look on his face would probably have made her laugh, if it hadn't been so excruciating. Didn't really think she needed to humiliate him any more than he'd just done himself. His eyes widened, incredulous, before the inevitable retraction. Yeah...that's what he'd been....thinking...er...too. They climbed to their feet, moved side by side to the exit. Bending down she took another look at the hinges, no leverage there, nothing to get their hands under, nothing to grip.
"What we need is a..."
His fist went out like a jack hammer, slamming into the cinder block wall beside the door frame. Jesus...that had to hurt. Again. This time he'd actually made a dent, tearing at the crumbling cement with his fingernails. God, didn't he even have any pain receptors? Blood starting to trickle from his knuckles now, as he struck again hard and fast, the other fist, then the left again, his face contorting with some indescribable emotion. Hate, fury, despair, misery. Thinking of the chip maybe, or Drusilla, thinking of The Initiative and what they'd done to him. Maybe even thinking of her. Smashing repeatedly into the wall, his breath suddenly coming in heedless, ragged pants. Her hand went out involuntarily to his arm, felt him jump at her touch,
"Spike. That's....thanks."
His eyes moved to her, full of pain, physical and spiritual and her heart hurt for him then. Like a wild animal who remembers what it was like to have freedom, and who knows he'll never have it again. Pain for all the nights ahead that he'd spend chained, unable to hunt, unable to live. Separate and outcast. Forced into the lonely role of outsider. Couldn't believe that they had that one thing in common, even though he'd probably never realise it. He could never see that she was alone too.
"That'll do it I think."
He stepped back, let her dig her fingers in to the hollow he'd made, find the edge of the door. She strained, feeling her fingernails split and break off. Great, another fifty dollars well spent. Didn't feel too super-strong either, this was going to be impossible. As if he'd heard her he moved forward, massaging his hands, gave her a long questioning look.
"You're not going to be able to do it on your own."
Slid his fingers in next to hers, their arms parallel. Spike shifted his body so it lay against her's, so they were both taking the strain. She felt suddenly dizzy again, let herself rest back against him, his lean, powerful frame taking her weight so easily. God, she was so tired. Concerned, he dropped a hand to her arm, soft-voiced,
"You O.K? You want to take a rest first?"
No. Dangerous waters. Too easy to let herself rest, too easy to let someone else take over.
"No. I'm good. After three, all right?"
He nodded, replacing his hands beside her's. She breathed easy, two deep breaths and her shoulders were already tensing, ready for maximum effort. Felt him too, the hard muscles in his abdomen bunching against her back, his thighs braced against her own. Why was this such a turn on?
"One..two....THREE!!"
They heaved with all their might. Her hands almost slipping with sweat before she got her grip again. A rending noise like a ship going down, felt the first hinge pop. He gasped, had to let go for a second to stretch his limbs, rolling his head from side to side to get out the kinks. Painfully, she pulled one arm over her chest, dragging the muscle out to it's fullest extent. Then the other. Watching him as he bent forward, lacing his bloody fingers, massaging the joints. Looked at her, dark blue and hazel-green in perfect symbiosis.
"Ready? One more's gonna do it I think."
He reached over, found his grip next to hers, then suddenly dropped his hands. She waited and he just stood there, looking strange. Sad and a little irritated.
"What is it?"
He inclined his head, looking at the door, then back at her. His expression made her uneasy, although she couldn't say why exactly.
"And then what?"
She stared at him,
"And then what...what?"
He sighed, laid a bloody hand to his temple like his head ached. But it didn't, she was pretty sure it didn't.
"We get the door open and then what?"
"What do you mean? We...go home of course."
"Home?"
"Yes! Well...I go home...you go...wherever you want to go...back to Xander's."
He snorted derisively, and she got it, understood what he was saying.
"You don't want to go back?"
He rolled his head back, stared at the ceiling. Right. Of course he didn't want to go back there. I mean who would. Xander himself hated that squalid little hole, escaped it to Anya's apartment whenever he could. At least he was able to. Where was Spike going to go? She remembered how many evenings she'd dropped in to see Giles, only to find them both there. Long after Spike had given up the role of house-guest. The two of them slouched on the sofa, listening to some nasty British noise from the sixties or seventies, feet tapping along, twin tumblers of scotch with the ice-cubes tinkling. Giles had made excuses, Spike was an excellent source of information, he spoke seventeen demon languages, but she knew the truth. They both liked the company. And the fact that they both hailed from the 'Mother Country' certainly didn't hurt. If it hadn't been for the indisputable fact that they were mortal enemies, she was sure they would have been friends.
He was such a strange vampire, she thought. No one had ever come as close to changing her convictions about his breed as Spike had. There was Angel, but of course he just supported the other side of the argument. Take his soul away and he becomes everything unspeakable, everything black and evil and wrong, everything she fought against, would always fight. But where was Spike in this? No soul, and yet he loved. No heart, and yet he cared. A demon's mind and emotions, but he had been nice to her Mother, had helped her avert two apocalypses, albeit for his own supposedly selfish reasons. What had he said? Greyhound Racing and Manchester United.
He liked Weetabix and chocolate-chip cookies and tea and bourbon. He liked to read poetry for God's sake. He watched soaps, he drank beer, played pool like a pro and one time, when she'd dropped round to water an absent Giles' plants, she even caught him moshing to 'The Clash'. What was he? Was he some kind of half- breed or something? Like Blade? But without the sun tolerance factor. Maybe she just didn't get to know that many vampires as well as she'd gotten to know him. Maybe they were all like that, secretly. Maybe the blood lust was just a front. Were they were all inside on Friday nights, listening to old Tom Jones albums and baking brownies? She shook her head, smiling. No, somehow she doubted it.
"What are you smirkin' at?"
She turned her eyes to him, and saw his surprise at her expression.
"You. You are so...odd."
A slow almost entirely non-evil grin spread over his face, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Yeah? I prefer unique."
She raised her eyebrows,
"Yeah, you're that all right."
Turned back to look at the door, frowning. Then back to him.
"O.K. How's this. You help me get us get out of here and I promise I'll have a talk to Xander....and Giles."
He squinted at her sceptically,
"And say what?"
She sighed gustily, rolled her eyes,
"And say that maybe they could cut you some slack."
He tried to play down the surprise, folded his arms instead, ready to dictate some terms.
"And he stops tying me up at night."
Her mouth twitched, such an amusing mental picture. Xander flat on his back, snoring his head off, while a trussed-up Spike tried to lacerate his flesh with just the power of his mind.
"O.K. No tying up."
"And I want to start looking for my own place."
She spluttered, started to cough,
"Spike..you said it yourself...you're not safe out there."
He glared,
"I'll take my chances. Getting beat up occasionally's gotta be easier than watching that wanker trying to jack off under the covers whenever he thinks I'm asleep."
An unexpected laugh burst out and she stifled it, biting down on one hand. His eyes sparkled at her, dancing blue and silver suddenly,
"You see. Funny, I can do."
And sometimes he could almost do human.
She frowned, stepped back to the door again, waiting for him to follow. A second or two and he joined her, slid his hands in beside hers again. She could still feel his tension under the skin, only slightly softened by her laughter, risked a glance sideways at his face, saw he was only inches away, waiting for her call.
"You know...for a vampire...you're quite a comedian."
He grimaced, refusing to meet her eyes,
"Slayer. Just shut up and pull."
- - - - - - - - - -
"God. I really smell."
She saw him glance at her in the darkness, a glint of white teeth,
"Yeah, you really do."
Asshole. Just because he didn't have any sweat glands. Leant her head out of the DeSoto's open window and let the wind take her hair back, whipping it around her face like party streamers. Felt like shouting, so she did. Howled a long cowboy whoop into the air, listening to it disappear behind them, spiralling out into the desert night.
"That feel good?"
"You betcha."
She grinned, sucking hard on a bottle of water he'd had in the trunk. Felt her whole body soaking it up, like a baked river bed taking in the rain. Drained the whole thing and was still thirsty.
"You got anything else to drink?"
"Only bourbon. But I'm guessing you've had enough hard liquor for one weekend."
She frowned, still feeling the effects of that one.
"Yeah. That stuff was lethal."
He snorted,
"Yeah. And I'm starting to suspect now...hallucinogenic."
She smiled, dipping her hand into the slipstream. Mmmm....nice.
"Yeah? You have visions?"
"Nope."
"No?"
He cleared his throat, the edge of a laugh,
"Nope, but I'm thinking you will."
Stared over at him in the dark. What was he talking about? Visions? Why would she have visions? Had he done some weird mojo on her, laced that cherry crap with LSD or something?
"What are you talking about?"
He wasn't looking at her, keeping his eyes focused on the road. He reached down, fumbled in the car door, found a half empty pack of Marlboros, lit one.
"You're saying you really don't remember?"
She growled, what was this shit?
"Remember? Remember what? What did I...did I say something...?"
Oh God...she hadn't...
"Did I...pee myself?"
He laughed out loud, a barking, glorious sound,
"No sweetheart. You didn't pee yourself."
She punched him hard, upper arm,
"Then what? What did I do."
She saw his eyes skate over to her, still keeping one eye on the road, saw the gleam in them even in the faint light of the dash as he smiled, evil smile. Her mouth went dry, mind racing, what did she do...what did she....and he turned away, took another drag on his cigarette and blew blue smoke out the window.
"Nothing. Nothing love. Sorry. Just taking the piss is all."
She let out the breath.
Thank God.
Jerk.
Crossed her arms as she stared out into the night. The highway lights leading them in, pulling them back to the Hellmouth, back to their home. Back to college and Slayer responsibilities, back to her Mom, her wonderfully, comfortable bed and Riley, hopefully soon...Riley. Good old dependable, down-to-earth Riley Finn. Safe and secure in his arms, pressed to his chest, pressed to his cool ivory muscles, his lips crushing down on hers, sending her spiralling towards the edge with every sure touch of his fingers on her...wait a minute....since when had he ever...
Eyes widened, throat contracted.
Oh.
Shit.
THE END