Warmth
Minimum Safe Distance 6
By Annie
Rated: R Disclaimer: Not mine; not making money; just having fun Spoilers: Out Of My Mind; Intervention; The Gift Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
The door to the crypt burst open with a resounding crash, reminiscent of the old days, when the Big Bad and the Slayer were mortal enemies. Even after years of dancing around each other, a nagging remnant of self- preservation made Spike jump. He had been pacing circles in thought for quite a while now. He had to decide whether to stay in Sunnydale or leave altogether - for good, mostly his own good - and that was entirely dependent upon how Buffy felt.
He turned to face her now, ill at ease, which was usually the case around her, except when they had been fighting. Back then, everything had been so cut and dried. But now.
Now he simply greeted her calmly. "Slayer," he said, as if bursting unannounced into his crypt was an everyday occurrence, which in years past it practically had been.
"Spike," she replied in turn, equally calm, and Spike had to resist the urge to leap across the room and hold her in joyous welcome.
"You left," Buffy pointed out needlessly, as she approached him slowly. He smelled shampoo, soap and perfume; she had taken a shower and the image of a wet, naked Buffy distracted him momentarily.
Spike shrugged. "The Scoobies seemed to have everything well enough in hand. I was planning to go back tonight to see how you were." He nodded toward the door. "It is dawn, and I've no desire to turn into a sodding signal flare!"
"Well, there is that," Buffy agreed. "I just wanted to talk to you, and Will said you were gone. Let me tell you, this being back is something freaky. Is that how it was with you? You know, when Dru.."
Spike reached for a cigarette, keeping an eye on her as he lit up. "I told you before, what a profound experience becoming a vampire was. I can't actually equate it with this for you, as I wasn't deceased for all that long. I'm thinking this must be as deeply moving an experience as anything that could ever happen. I know I was bloody well moved tonight." He told her, taking another drag, watching her come a step closer, senses on high alert at her nearness.
"I don't know how it happened." Buffy admitted. She went on in an attempt to describe the warmth and peace of the darkness enfolding her, tried to make him understand how nice it was to just be there. "Just floating," she was saying, still coming closer a step at a time. "Just warm, velvet blackness around me, protecting me. I liked it there. I wanted to stay. I heard you. Somehow, I heard you, and I can't explain it, and I'm not even sure I want to. I did want to thank you. You got me out. Out of the blackness and out of the ground. I wanted to see you, to make sure you knew how I felt. You're not a monster, not anymore. And you haven't been for some time."
Spike was edging back away from her all the while she spoke, matching one step back for every one of hers that moved her forward. He had to keep his minimum safe distance, or run the risk of losing control. And not vamp control either - just control of the tremendous urge to take her, love her.
This action of his was not lost on the Slayer.
"Spike, I didn't come here to fight. There's no more fighting with you, not after all you've done for Dawn, and me. Why are you backing away? Stop it."
"Bloody hell, Slayer!" Spike raged suddenly, crushing the smoke out viciously on the crypt floor. "Why?! Think about it! I come to the Hellmouth with the love of my life, just want to stay a bit and cause some commotion, kill myself another Slayer - and guess what? Years later, I'm still here. Can't cause any kind of trouble to speak of, not since I picked up this bleedin' little piece of Army surplus in my head. Lost Dru. Can't stomach Harmony. And not only have I not killed the Slayer - I fell in love with her. Do you know what that means? Me! The Big Bad - a laughing stock. And everyone knows! The Slayer's doormat. Drusilla knew. She tried to tell me. I even practically told Harmony myself after that Initiative doc pretended to take out this sodding piece of crap! Dawn knew, the Scoobies, Ripper, even you knew, because I told you, Buffy. You went to Glory's flat to kill me, because you thought I would tell her the Little Bit was the Key. I had to get the bloody piss knocked out of me before you would even consider that I just might be on your side. Then you at least started to be nice to me. Then you go and die. Pretty permanent way to leave a bloke flat, Pet."
He stopped for breath and she moved still closer to him.
"You have no idea," he continued, a bit calmer now, bitter in his cold, still heart at the thought that nothing could ever be with her. "Dru said I was all covered with you, and she was right. You were gone for good and I was still covered with you - waking, sleeping - I wanted to bloody stake myself, because no matter where I went, I couldn't get away from you. And you weren't even alive! So, now you're back, and your gang gets to cuddle you up and hold you, and take care of you. Even the Englishman is on his way here. But I'm still just ol' Spike; live in a crypt and kill demons for food and fun. Do you know, when you were in shock, I wanted to help you so much that I put my arms around you to keep you warm. You made me forget what I am. And I don't think you ever can forget."
Buffy came closer, startled at his outburst, but understanding it completely. She smiled. "You tried to keep me warm?" she asked, touched by the thought, and suddenly much warmer, despite the early-morning chill in the crypt.
Spike raised his arms toward her. "Yea," he replied, "With these two cold, dead arms of mine. All I wanted was a little warmth to give you."
Buffy raised her arms then, reaching out to touch both of his, the gesture burning right through to his heart. "Is this warm?' she asked quietly.
Spike nodded, looking into her face, her eyes, and finding himself unable to speak.
She ran her hands up to his neck, caressing both sides of it gently. "Is this warm?"
"Buffy," Spike managed to say, not knowing if he was going to try to stop her or not. He wasn't up for any torment at the moment, although he was up for other things. So to speak.
"Shhh," she cautioned him. "I said I wanted to thank you, for so many things." She had her hands on his cheeks now, fingertips tracing those glorious cheekbones. "Is this warm?"
"Yes," he whispered.
Buffy pulled his face gently to hers, kissing his lips lightly with her own, hot tongue flicking lightly against his mouth. He moaned at the delicious heat.
Buffy took one of his hands and pressed it to one of her breasts, nipple hardening instantaneously. "Is this warm?" she whispered into his mouth, moaning lightly as his hand tightened on the tender flesh and he brought his other hand down to join it.
She backed him up slowly, up against a wall, deliriously enjoying the feel of his hands on her breasts, intense heat building in her. She pressed the warmth of herself against the coolness of his muscled body, kissing in earnest now, tongue exploring his cool mouth. Buffy moved his arms away from her reluctantly, reaching out to take off his shirt, releasing his lips only momentarily, and coming back to them hungrily. He kissed her ravenously now, after waiting for so long to taste her like this, he was in heaven and thought he would just go insane from the beauty and the heat of her. She reached down to his pants, running a hot hand over his erection, making him moan. "Buffy," he murmured into her mouth, thinking somewhere in the back of his head that if he turned to dust this minute he wouldn't much care.
She opened his pants then and pushed them down to the floor. With a last swirl of her tongue in his mouth she left his lips and began to trail sizzling kisses down his chest and stomach. Spike twisted his hands roughly into her hair, hips moving forward of their own accord, reaching for her. She grabbed the cool marble of his cock and licked the top of it lightly, almost putting him through the wall
"Is this warm?" she whispered, engulfing the huge organ suddenly, surrounding him in such exquisite heat that he was sure he wouldn't be able to contain himself. A few moments of that and he had to stop her. He pulled her head up abruptly, kicking out of his pants, bending over to crush his mouth to hers, picking her up easily and taking her over to his bed, dropping her on the comforters he had thrown there when he got back to the crypt.
He was on top and in as much control as he would ever be able to exert over himself in this situation. To have something warm was beyond description; sure, he had loved Dru, and he had barely tolerated Harmony, but they were as cold as he. This live, warm flesh, this heated Buffy beneath him, was better than he had ever imagined in his fevered Slayer dreams. He was kissing her again, and she was struggling beneath him to get her own clothes off. Spike lifted himself slightly so she would have more leverage, but as soon as she was naked, he growled low in his throat and pressed his body to hers urgently, feeling the warmth there; bodies touching from chest to toes. Buffy managed to get her legs out from under him and wrapped them around his hips tightly, pushing his face down to her breasts, so he could taste them, too. But no more fooling around, she thought.
"Now, Spike," she breathed into his ear, licking it for emphasis. "Do me now."
He didn't need any extra urging, he was about ready to fly apart. He put the tip of his cock between her legs and stopped, wanting to enjoy the tremendous sensation of invading her. She moaned and put her face into his neck and he began to push in, filling her so slowly that she wanted to grab his hips and push him into her, wanted to feel him fill her up. Spike went as slowly as he could, the heat of her branding him, he couldn't believe the feeling, couldn't ever remember feeling anything this good in his life. He buried his face in her neck, teeth resting on the tender flesh there, not biting, cool tongue tasting her until he had his entire cock buried in her. She gasped and held him tightly, then began to move her hips, making him move, too, faster and faster, until she cried out and clenched his back desperately. The hot muscles inside her left him no choice, and he exploded into her, his coolness mingling with her warmth.
He lay against her weakly, more emotionally drained and satisfied than he was physically. Even now, he could imagine having another go soon.
Spike kissed her neck gently. "So, you came to thank me, Pet? You're welcome. Unless you fancy another go 'round."
Buffy laughed and pushed him onto the floor.
Minimum Safe Distance 6
By Annie
Rated: R Disclaimer: Not mine; not making money; just having fun Spoilers: Out Of My Mind; Intervention; The Gift Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
The door to the crypt burst open with a resounding crash, reminiscent of the old days, when the Big Bad and the Slayer were mortal enemies. Even after years of dancing around each other, a nagging remnant of self- preservation made Spike jump. He had been pacing circles in thought for quite a while now. He had to decide whether to stay in Sunnydale or leave altogether - for good, mostly his own good - and that was entirely dependent upon how Buffy felt.
He turned to face her now, ill at ease, which was usually the case around her, except when they had been fighting. Back then, everything had been so cut and dried. But now.
Now he simply greeted her calmly. "Slayer," he said, as if bursting unannounced into his crypt was an everyday occurrence, which in years past it practically had been.
"Spike," she replied in turn, equally calm, and Spike had to resist the urge to leap across the room and hold her in joyous welcome.
"You left," Buffy pointed out needlessly, as she approached him slowly. He smelled shampoo, soap and perfume; she had taken a shower and the image of a wet, naked Buffy distracted him momentarily.
Spike shrugged. "The Scoobies seemed to have everything well enough in hand. I was planning to go back tonight to see how you were." He nodded toward the door. "It is dawn, and I've no desire to turn into a sodding signal flare!"
"Well, there is that," Buffy agreed. "I just wanted to talk to you, and Will said you were gone. Let me tell you, this being back is something freaky. Is that how it was with you? You know, when Dru.."
Spike reached for a cigarette, keeping an eye on her as he lit up. "I told you before, what a profound experience becoming a vampire was. I can't actually equate it with this for you, as I wasn't deceased for all that long. I'm thinking this must be as deeply moving an experience as anything that could ever happen. I know I was bloody well moved tonight." He told her, taking another drag, watching her come a step closer, senses on high alert at her nearness.
"I don't know how it happened." Buffy admitted. She went on in an attempt to describe the warmth and peace of the darkness enfolding her, tried to make him understand how nice it was to just be there. "Just floating," she was saying, still coming closer a step at a time. "Just warm, velvet blackness around me, protecting me. I liked it there. I wanted to stay. I heard you. Somehow, I heard you, and I can't explain it, and I'm not even sure I want to. I did want to thank you. You got me out. Out of the blackness and out of the ground. I wanted to see you, to make sure you knew how I felt. You're not a monster, not anymore. And you haven't been for some time."
Spike was edging back away from her all the while she spoke, matching one step back for every one of hers that moved her forward. He had to keep his minimum safe distance, or run the risk of losing control. And not vamp control either - just control of the tremendous urge to take her, love her.
This action of his was not lost on the Slayer.
"Spike, I didn't come here to fight. There's no more fighting with you, not after all you've done for Dawn, and me. Why are you backing away? Stop it."
"Bloody hell, Slayer!" Spike raged suddenly, crushing the smoke out viciously on the crypt floor. "Why?! Think about it! I come to the Hellmouth with the love of my life, just want to stay a bit and cause some commotion, kill myself another Slayer - and guess what? Years later, I'm still here. Can't cause any kind of trouble to speak of, not since I picked up this bleedin' little piece of Army surplus in my head. Lost Dru. Can't stomach Harmony. And not only have I not killed the Slayer - I fell in love with her. Do you know what that means? Me! The Big Bad - a laughing stock. And everyone knows! The Slayer's doormat. Drusilla knew. She tried to tell me. I even practically told Harmony myself after that Initiative doc pretended to take out this sodding piece of crap! Dawn knew, the Scoobies, Ripper, even you knew, because I told you, Buffy. You went to Glory's flat to kill me, because you thought I would tell her the Little Bit was the Key. I had to get the bloody piss knocked out of me before you would even consider that I just might be on your side. Then you at least started to be nice to me. Then you go and die. Pretty permanent way to leave a bloke flat, Pet."
He stopped for breath and she moved still closer to him.
"You have no idea," he continued, a bit calmer now, bitter in his cold, still heart at the thought that nothing could ever be with her. "Dru said I was all covered with you, and she was right. You were gone for good and I was still covered with you - waking, sleeping - I wanted to bloody stake myself, because no matter where I went, I couldn't get away from you. And you weren't even alive! So, now you're back, and your gang gets to cuddle you up and hold you, and take care of you. Even the Englishman is on his way here. But I'm still just ol' Spike; live in a crypt and kill demons for food and fun. Do you know, when you were in shock, I wanted to help you so much that I put my arms around you to keep you warm. You made me forget what I am. And I don't think you ever can forget."
Buffy came closer, startled at his outburst, but understanding it completely. She smiled. "You tried to keep me warm?" she asked, touched by the thought, and suddenly much warmer, despite the early-morning chill in the crypt.
Spike raised his arms toward her. "Yea," he replied, "With these two cold, dead arms of mine. All I wanted was a little warmth to give you."
Buffy raised her arms then, reaching out to touch both of his, the gesture burning right through to his heart. "Is this warm?' she asked quietly.
Spike nodded, looking into her face, her eyes, and finding himself unable to speak.
She ran her hands up to his neck, caressing both sides of it gently. "Is this warm?"
"Buffy," Spike managed to say, not knowing if he was going to try to stop her or not. He wasn't up for any torment at the moment, although he was up for other things. So to speak.
"Shhh," she cautioned him. "I said I wanted to thank you, for so many things." She had her hands on his cheeks now, fingertips tracing those glorious cheekbones. "Is this warm?"
"Yes," he whispered.
Buffy pulled his face gently to hers, kissing his lips lightly with her own, hot tongue flicking lightly against his mouth. He moaned at the delicious heat.
Buffy took one of his hands and pressed it to one of her breasts, nipple hardening instantaneously. "Is this warm?" she whispered into his mouth, moaning lightly as his hand tightened on the tender flesh and he brought his other hand down to join it.
She backed him up slowly, up against a wall, deliriously enjoying the feel of his hands on her breasts, intense heat building in her. She pressed the warmth of herself against the coolness of his muscled body, kissing in earnest now, tongue exploring his cool mouth. Buffy moved his arms away from her reluctantly, reaching out to take off his shirt, releasing his lips only momentarily, and coming back to them hungrily. He kissed her ravenously now, after waiting for so long to taste her like this, he was in heaven and thought he would just go insane from the beauty and the heat of her. She reached down to his pants, running a hot hand over his erection, making him moan. "Buffy," he murmured into her mouth, thinking somewhere in the back of his head that if he turned to dust this minute he wouldn't much care.
She opened his pants then and pushed them down to the floor. With a last swirl of her tongue in his mouth she left his lips and began to trail sizzling kisses down his chest and stomach. Spike twisted his hands roughly into her hair, hips moving forward of their own accord, reaching for her. She grabbed the cool marble of his cock and licked the top of it lightly, almost putting him through the wall
"Is this warm?" she whispered, engulfing the huge organ suddenly, surrounding him in such exquisite heat that he was sure he wouldn't be able to contain himself. A few moments of that and he had to stop her. He pulled her head up abruptly, kicking out of his pants, bending over to crush his mouth to hers, picking her up easily and taking her over to his bed, dropping her on the comforters he had thrown there when he got back to the crypt.
He was on top and in as much control as he would ever be able to exert over himself in this situation. To have something warm was beyond description; sure, he had loved Dru, and he had barely tolerated Harmony, but they were as cold as he. This live, warm flesh, this heated Buffy beneath him, was better than he had ever imagined in his fevered Slayer dreams. He was kissing her again, and she was struggling beneath him to get her own clothes off. Spike lifted himself slightly so she would have more leverage, but as soon as she was naked, he growled low in his throat and pressed his body to hers urgently, feeling the warmth there; bodies touching from chest to toes. Buffy managed to get her legs out from under him and wrapped them around his hips tightly, pushing his face down to her breasts, so he could taste them, too. But no more fooling around, she thought.
"Now, Spike," she breathed into his ear, licking it for emphasis. "Do me now."
He didn't need any extra urging, he was about ready to fly apart. He put the tip of his cock between her legs and stopped, wanting to enjoy the tremendous sensation of invading her. She moaned and put her face into his neck and he began to push in, filling her so slowly that she wanted to grab his hips and push him into her, wanted to feel him fill her up. Spike went as slowly as he could, the heat of her branding him, he couldn't believe the feeling, couldn't ever remember feeling anything this good in his life. He buried his face in her neck, teeth resting on the tender flesh there, not biting, cool tongue tasting her until he had his entire cock buried in her. She gasped and held him tightly, then began to move her hips, making him move, too, faster and faster, until she cried out and clenched his back desperately. The hot muscles inside her left him no choice, and he exploded into her, his coolness mingling with her warmth.
He lay against her weakly, more emotionally drained and satisfied than he was physically. Even now, he could imagine having another go soon.
Spike kissed her neck gently. "So, you came to thank me, Pet? You're welcome. Unless you fancy another go 'round."
Buffy laughed and pushed him onto the floor.