Title: A Passing Shadow: Book I: Deep Down Dark: Chapter 6
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters.
I don't know exactly what I expected to happen. I mean, the last time I kissed him I was pretending to be Skirt Girl, and he just sat there and stared at me when he realized that I was the real deal. And it was a brief thing, a thank-you-for-not-caving-under-agonizing-torture-and-spilling-the-beans-about-my-sister-The-Key kind of kiss. Not that there wasn't real emotion behind it...just that the emotion was gratitude and not...not what? Affection? Attraction? Desire? Hell, let's go the whole nine yards and call it lust.
All of that was going through my head as I kissed him. And then nothing was going through my head as I kissed him, 'cause he tasted like moonlight and starshine and his lips were cool and milky like french vanilla pudding pops and-ewww, where did THAT image come from? guess I was horny AND hungry-and his tongue was rough and slick at the same time and--
Anyway, I don't know what I was expecting, but it most definitely wasn't what he did, which was push me off his lap and onto the floor.
Then he was up and fumbling around for his boots again.
"Oh, for God's sake, Spike, your stupid boots aren't even in here. They're in the hall closet. But it doesn't matter, 'cause you're not going anywhere. You may as well get used to it, too, 'cause I'm not above tying you up again if I have to."
He stuck his fingers in his hair and pulled at it. Then he kicked in the general direction of the coffee table, missing it completely. Then he sat down again.
"Spike-"
"Sorry, Slayer. Didn't mean to-"
"Yeah, what was that about? I mean, I thought..." What was I going to say? 'I thought you loved me?' 'I thought you'd jump at the chance to get in my pants?'
It dawned on me that maybe he'd moved on. Gotten over me. Left me in the dust. I guess I was expecting him to wait...what, forever? Suddenly my brain was channeling Cordelia-'jeez, Buffy, ego much?'
"Never mind. It doesn't matter."
"Buffy-"
"No, really, I get it. I told you to get lost one too many times, right? Called you names and laughed at you and now I'm surprised you don't want me anymore. Not a problem, Spike. At least, not YOUR problem."
I was babbling and backing out of the room at the same time.
"It's not like that, pet."
I stopped. "So what's it like, then?"
He didn't answer. He just covered his face with his hands and growled.
"Look, Spike, like I said, I get it. No further explanations necessary. But if you don't mind, I think I'll just go to my room now. Got some big humiliation to process-"
"I can't."
"Huh?"
"I can't."
"You can't kiss me?"
"Right. I mean, yes, I can kiss you, but-"
"You don't want to."
"No, I DO want to. I just can't...I mean, I CAN, but then, I can't...do...anything else."
"Huh?"
His blank, blind eyes were turned on me with this really intense, pleading look. Pleading for what, I didn't know.
"It doesn't work. Hasn't worked since...Drusilla."
Ooooooh. Oh, man.
"Buffy?"
"Yeah. Still here. Just trying to-"
"Keep from laughin'?"
"No! Of course not! Why would you think-"
"Wouldn't blame you. Right pathetic, I know. Bad enough to be chipped-now I can't bite, can't see, can't even..." He leaned back and pressed the heals of his hands against his eyes and started banging the back of his head against the window molding behind the sofa.
I sat down next to him and slipped my hand behind his head to cushion it. He froze.
"Relax, Spike. I'm not going to molest you. Now, tell me how you know that it doesn't...um...work."
"How the bloody hell do you THINK I know?" He stopped banging, but he kept his face covered.
"You mean you've tried to...I mean...well, I guess you ARE alone a lot..." I was surprised that the image of Spike sitting around in the middle of our living room playing with himself didn't give me a major wiggins. In fact, I found myself storing said image away for future contemplation. But, first things first.
He was saying, "Well, yes, there's that-but the real give-away is you, Slayer. My reaction to you. Or lack of reaction."
"Huh?" I say that a lot, don't I?
"Time was, I got fully...alert...just from the passin' scent of your hair. Now, you climb in my lap an' stick your tongue down my throat an'-nothin'."
I took a moment to enjoy the idea that Spike got turned on by the way my hair smelled.
"Nothing? Are you sure?"
He snorted.
I climbed back into his lap, my legs on either side of him. I pulled his hands away from his eyes and ran my fingers over his forehead and cheekbones.
"Does that feel nice?" He didn't answer, just nuzzled his face into my palm and made a humming sound.
"I think we should ask Giles about this."
"Crikey, Slayer, why not take out an advert in the bloody morning paper?" His tone wasn't as snarky as his words, probably because I was running my hands through his hair and down over his neck and shoulders.
"Giles is very discreet. And I'll bet he can help." I pulled him close and started licking a spot behind his left ear. He shuddered once and wrapped his arms around me. I wiggled against him, searching for...nope, he was right. Nothing.
But I was getting pretty worked up.
"Why, Buffy?"
"Why, what?"
"Why do you care? And why this sudden display of...of... Are you feelin' sorry for me?" His tone was suspicious. Not that I could blame him.
"Nope. I mean, yeah, I do feel bad, but that's not the big why."
"What is it, then?"
I stopped moving and held him tight, thinking hard for a few seconds.
"It's weird, and way ironic. Right about the same time you got blinded, all of sudden I...I..."
"Saw the light?"
"Pretty corny, Bleach Boy. But accurate."
"Well, that's all right, then. 'Cause when the time comes, I'll have no use for an Angel of Mercy. I'll want a Slayer."
"A particular Slayer? Or will just any one do?"
"That bint's still in the lock-up, yes?"
"Yup."
"Then I guess you'll have to do." The only thing that kept me from punching him was how much I'd missed that evil smile. I only wished his eyes would sparkle like they used to.
I jumped off of him when the front door slammed.
"Hi, Dawnie. Back so soon?"
She gave me a dirty look and plopped down into a chair next to Spike. She picked up the remote and turned the volume up loud. I opened my mouth to say something, then remembered what Spike had said about choosing my battles. I patted her on the head as I left the room. She ignored me.
"Where're you goin', Slayer?"
"To call Giles." I saw him flinch. But it had to be done. We had to get his little problem fixed, like, yesterday. For Spike's sake, of course.
As for me, well, I could be patient. Patience is a virtue. And that's what I'm all about. Patience and virtue.
Why are you laughing?
tbc
Author: VicNoir
Rating: R
Disclaimers, etc.: please see previous chapters.
I don't know exactly what I expected to happen. I mean, the last time I kissed him I was pretending to be Skirt Girl, and he just sat there and stared at me when he realized that I was the real deal. And it was a brief thing, a thank-you-for-not-caving-under-agonizing-torture-and-spilling-the-beans-about-my-sister-The-Key kind of kiss. Not that there wasn't real emotion behind it...just that the emotion was gratitude and not...not what? Affection? Attraction? Desire? Hell, let's go the whole nine yards and call it lust.
All of that was going through my head as I kissed him. And then nothing was going through my head as I kissed him, 'cause he tasted like moonlight and starshine and his lips were cool and milky like french vanilla pudding pops and-ewww, where did THAT image come from? guess I was horny AND hungry-and his tongue was rough and slick at the same time and--
Anyway, I don't know what I was expecting, but it most definitely wasn't what he did, which was push me off his lap and onto the floor.
Then he was up and fumbling around for his boots again.
"Oh, for God's sake, Spike, your stupid boots aren't even in here. They're in the hall closet. But it doesn't matter, 'cause you're not going anywhere. You may as well get used to it, too, 'cause I'm not above tying you up again if I have to."
He stuck his fingers in his hair and pulled at it. Then he kicked in the general direction of the coffee table, missing it completely. Then he sat down again.
"Spike-"
"Sorry, Slayer. Didn't mean to-"
"Yeah, what was that about? I mean, I thought..." What was I going to say? 'I thought you loved me?' 'I thought you'd jump at the chance to get in my pants?'
It dawned on me that maybe he'd moved on. Gotten over me. Left me in the dust. I guess I was expecting him to wait...what, forever? Suddenly my brain was channeling Cordelia-'jeez, Buffy, ego much?'
"Never mind. It doesn't matter."
"Buffy-"
"No, really, I get it. I told you to get lost one too many times, right? Called you names and laughed at you and now I'm surprised you don't want me anymore. Not a problem, Spike. At least, not YOUR problem."
I was babbling and backing out of the room at the same time.
"It's not like that, pet."
I stopped. "So what's it like, then?"
He didn't answer. He just covered his face with his hands and growled.
"Look, Spike, like I said, I get it. No further explanations necessary. But if you don't mind, I think I'll just go to my room now. Got some big humiliation to process-"
"I can't."
"Huh?"
"I can't."
"You can't kiss me?"
"Right. I mean, yes, I can kiss you, but-"
"You don't want to."
"No, I DO want to. I just can't...I mean, I CAN, but then, I can't...do...anything else."
"Huh?"
His blank, blind eyes were turned on me with this really intense, pleading look. Pleading for what, I didn't know.
"It doesn't work. Hasn't worked since...Drusilla."
Ooooooh. Oh, man.
"Buffy?"
"Yeah. Still here. Just trying to-"
"Keep from laughin'?"
"No! Of course not! Why would you think-"
"Wouldn't blame you. Right pathetic, I know. Bad enough to be chipped-now I can't bite, can't see, can't even..." He leaned back and pressed the heals of his hands against his eyes and started banging the back of his head against the window molding behind the sofa.
I sat down next to him and slipped my hand behind his head to cushion it. He froze.
"Relax, Spike. I'm not going to molest you. Now, tell me how you know that it doesn't...um...work."
"How the bloody hell do you THINK I know?" He stopped banging, but he kept his face covered.
"You mean you've tried to...I mean...well, I guess you ARE alone a lot..." I was surprised that the image of Spike sitting around in the middle of our living room playing with himself didn't give me a major wiggins. In fact, I found myself storing said image away for future contemplation. But, first things first.
He was saying, "Well, yes, there's that-but the real give-away is you, Slayer. My reaction to you. Or lack of reaction."
"Huh?" I say that a lot, don't I?
"Time was, I got fully...alert...just from the passin' scent of your hair. Now, you climb in my lap an' stick your tongue down my throat an'-nothin'."
I took a moment to enjoy the idea that Spike got turned on by the way my hair smelled.
"Nothing? Are you sure?"
He snorted.
I climbed back into his lap, my legs on either side of him. I pulled his hands away from his eyes and ran my fingers over his forehead and cheekbones.
"Does that feel nice?" He didn't answer, just nuzzled his face into my palm and made a humming sound.
"I think we should ask Giles about this."
"Crikey, Slayer, why not take out an advert in the bloody morning paper?" His tone wasn't as snarky as his words, probably because I was running my hands through his hair and down over his neck and shoulders.
"Giles is very discreet. And I'll bet he can help." I pulled him close and started licking a spot behind his left ear. He shuddered once and wrapped his arms around me. I wiggled against him, searching for...nope, he was right. Nothing.
But I was getting pretty worked up.
"Why, Buffy?"
"Why, what?"
"Why do you care? And why this sudden display of...of... Are you feelin' sorry for me?" His tone was suspicious. Not that I could blame him.
"Nope. I mean, yeah, I do feel bad, but that's not the big why."
"What is it, then?"
I stopped moving and held him tight, thinking hard for a few seconds.
"It's weird, and way ironic. Right about the same time you got blinded, all of sudden I...I..."
"Saw the light?"
"Pretty corny, Bleach Boy. But accurate."
"Well, that's all right, then. 'Cause when the time comes, I'll have no use for an Angel of Mercy. I'll want a Slayer."
"A particular Slayer? Or will just any one do?"
"That bint's still in the lock-up, yes?"
"Yup."
"Then I guess you'll have to do." The only thing that kept me from punching him was how much I'd missed that evil smile. I only wished his eyes would sparkle like they used to.
I jumped off of him when the front door slammed.
"Hi, Dawnie. Back so soon?"
She gave me a dirty look and plopped down into a chair next to Spike. She picked up the remote and turned the volume up loud. I opened my mouth to say something, then remembered what Spike had said about choosing my battles. I patted her on the head as I left the room. She ignored me.
"Where're you goin', Slayer?"
"To call Giles." I saw him flinch. But it had to be done. We had to get his little problem fixed, like, yesterday. For Spike's sake, of course.
As for me, well, I could be patient. Patience is a virtue. And that's what I'm all about. Patience and virtue.
Why are you laughing?
tbc