++++++++++++++++
/Chapter Five/
"Where *is* she?"
"She's taking care of them."
"Shouldn't *we* be helping?"
"She said to wait here."
Snort. "Typical."
Dawn kicked at the tree beside which she and Xander stood, then picked at the bark with her fingers. Xander glanced distractedly at her out of the corner of his eye, but mostly kept a nervous lookout.
A moment later his lookout revealed something.
"Tara?"
Tara approached with another figure he couldn't quite make out. Or maybe, that he wasn't attempting to make out, being far too distracted by her outfit.
"Xander?" Tara sounded surprised. "Um, hi."
"Tara." Before he could stop himself, he'd given her the very male once-over. "*Tara*," he said again. "Whoa, Nelly."
Tara tugged at the peasant blouse a little, but otherwise just smiled.
Dawn stepped out from behind the tree. "Tara!" she exclaimed cheerily. Her eyes grew wide with appreciation. "Whoo-wee! You go, girl!" Her wide smile lasted until her eyes refocused a yard or so to the right, at the person who was lagging behind. The sudden cold clench of those eyes showed she'd had no trouble identifying him.
Xander was still staring at Tara. Dawn elbowed him and gestured emphatically with her head. Xander woke up and gave his slack-jawed look another flavor.
Spike grinned mirthlessly. "Close your mouth, Harris, we are not a codfish."
Xander wasted no time. "What are you doing with him?"
Tara glanced at Spike, a bit mystified. "We just...uh, went to a club."
Xander nodded. "And again, the question remains, 'with *him*?'"
Tara's eyes moved even more uncertainly between her companion and the others. Spike stared straight at Xander, offering nothing. "I went *with him* because...Spike and I have been...hanging out."
"Hanging out." Xander eyed Tara's outfit and Spike's proximity in increasing alarm. "*Hanging* out," he repeated, louder. "Dressed like that. What the hell are you up to?" he accused Spike.
"Nothin', Doughboy." Spike felt bile rising, along with his own mounting alarm. "Whatsa matter, you confused at hearing about a man *staying with* a lady?"
Xander's face flushed purple and he balled his fists. Dawn stopped him from pouncing with a small hand and an astonished look. "Xander, she doesn't know."
"Whaddya mean, she doesn't know?"
"She doesn't know! I guess no one told her."
"Told me what?" demanded Tara. "Hello, standing right here."
"C'mon, love, the big squishy one's about to make up stories." His hand on her arm and a step away produced no movement. She stood rooted. Spike's anxiety ratcheted up a notch.
"Whatsa matter, Spike?" goaded Xander. "All confused by your past catching up to you?"
Spike's eyes narrowed. "Shut yer noise, you."
"Oh yeah, your 'love' for Buffy--" His fingers carved cruel notches in the air. "-- must've really been everlasting, seeing as you're already out trying to scam the only unsuspecting woman left in Sunnydale."
"Unsuspecting of what?" Tara seemed ready to stamp her foot.
"Shut. Your. Noise." sneered Spike at Xander.
"No! I will *not* keep quiet about the fact that you tried t---"
Spike cut off Xander's next words with a primal roar, launching himself at his tormentor and slamming him into the ground next to the tree.
"SHUT! YOUR! FESTERING! GOB!!" He grabbed his head in pain as Xander struggled under him, but managed to keep him down. He braced himself with gritted teeth before slamming him back into the dirt repeatedly, punctuating his speech with the blows.
"Think you know everything! Think you got the right to dictate MY BUSINESS!" He reeled from the pain but couldn't seem to stop shaking Xander till his teeth rattled.
Tara and Dawn pulled frantically, futilely at Spike's shoulders. Tara seemed beside herself. "Spike, stop hurting Xander!"
Spike wheeled on her in amazed fury. "Don't hurt *him*? Don't hurt *THIS*? Whose side are you on?"
Tara's face slammed shut in an instant. Spike's stomach abandoned him completely. "I'm on *my* side," she declared icily.
She turned and left. Spike watched helplessly. "Tara!"
Spike was left more than bereft by her departure - he was left off his guard. Xander slammed his knee up into Spike's groin. Spike howled in pain and rage, falling off Xander and onto his side. Xander sprang to his feet, seething.
"Yeah, I *think* I can tell other people your business," he panted, delivering a swift kick to Spike's ribs. He gained momentum, continuing to pummel Spike's curled form with his feet. "...you lying, *murdering*, *raping* piece of shit!"
"Xander!" Dawn's panicked voice finally managed to cut through his fog. "She's calling us!"
Xander abandoned Spike with one final foot-shove. Spike knew to crawl away quickly before the night got even worse.
++++++++++++++++
"Tara!" It hurt Spike's ribs to cry out. He held onto them and did it again. "Tara! Hang on!"
She finally stopped, without turning around.
Spike got close enough that he didn't have to yell, but then found himself at a loss for what to say. "You shouldn't...shouldn't go traipsing off by yourself, love," he croaked.
She half-turned to him. "You didn't leave me much choice. You were busy."
"Bloody hell, woman, d'you expect me to just stand there while that pillock prattles on about--"
"What were they trying to tell me?"
She'd finally turned to face him, straight on. Spike was momentarily speechless with bluster.
"Is that what this is all about, then?" he finally managed to spit out. "You believe the whelp over me? When I've spent so much time seeing to your--"
Tara's face was growing tighter by the second. Spike hadn't even completed his tirade before she was striding away again.
Spike was gobsmacked for the second time that evening. She wasn't playing by the rules.
He'd never had anyone deal with him in this way -- this no-nonsense don't-come-here-with-your-shit attitude. She was supposed to get flamboyantly mad too, and together they'd have a good bring-down-the-house fight, like with Buffy. Or else she was supposed coo and coddle him until he came down, taking his anger seriously but assuring him she had all the answers, like Dru.
Spike found himself running. "Sodding hell, love, give a bloke a chance..."
Tara stopped and whirled. "Is that what I'm supposed to do? Give you a chance? Is that what I'm *for*, Spike? Giving people more and more chances to fuck with me until there isn't any 'me' left? How long before you tell me that things'll go better if I just keep my mouth shut?!"
Spike gaped. Was that what she was hearing? What that what he was *saying*? Her eyes were filling and he hated it. "I'd never say that, pet."
"I'm done babysitting companions," she vowed. Her lip began trembling. "And I was trusting you..."
Spike entered Emergency Mode, wherein he could think of nothing besides doing whatever was necessary to make it better, to end her pain. In this case, it meant throwing aside every petty defense.
"Taking care of you feels like the best thing that's ever happened to me," he blurted truthfully. Another long moment passed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Tara took him in, her body still edged away from him. Spike waited -- would she ask again? The predicament had him almost shaking.
"I'm sorry," he repeated softly. "Old habits, really. Just that. Nothing more."
Her face relaxed, and he knew she believed him. The moment had passed, somehow. He was safe, in his deceit by omission. He felt relieved, and sick.
"See you home?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Spike realized he could see her dorm from there, a very short walk. There was little need for his presence, and he was sure she knew it, too.
Her sensitivity overwhelmed him.
Somewhere in the few moments back to her building, Tara reached to grip Spike's hand in a loose squeeze. "Tomorrow?" she asked softly.
Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Tomorow."
++++++++++++++++
An hour or two later, Tara couldn't sleep.
Despite their quarrel earlier, she was now feeling euphoric that the phenomenon of Spike was going on in her life, that this person had come along to solve her problems for her - or at the very least, point her in the direction of solving them.
But it also felt frustrating, in a strangely ecstatic, frantic sort of way.
She felt floaty-happy that she'd stood up to him and that he'd listened to her, that he'd tacitly agreed to do what she needed. She didn't even care anymore that she hadn't discovered what his secret was. Against her better judgement, she had started to think she didn't want to know.
She was having a door open in her mind, feeling that perhaps something she thought was impossible wasn't.
The scare she'd felt at her feelings in the club was abating. She was accepting the things those feelings whispered.
She snaked one hand down her belly and under the elastic of her panties. She let out a wordless gasp-sigh as her fingers found their mark.
She was accepting that she wanted her savior to be more. She knew she wanted to be...*everything* with him. She didn't know why. Her other hand snuck under her t-shirt to pinch at a nipple. Her hips began to rock just a little, and she felt sweat break out on her upper lip.
She thought maybe it was a kind of transference, something to do with mixed up feelings of gratitude. But she couldn't seem to make the feelings go away, and they were so strong that she was starting to not care about how - after a lifetime with her brother and father - she'd closed out the idea of men almost like a reflex, decided so young never to get close to a man that way that she'd practically forgotten that it had been a conscious decision. The years of quiet fear and bitterness -- so much a part of her for so long -- seemed to mean nothing now. She was afraid at how quickly she was dropping those defenses -- it felt like she'd done it overnight -- but they didn't make any sense to her in the face of him.
The bed was starting to squeak. Her forearm was cramping. She shook it out as fast as she could and returned to the rubbing with a redoubled moan.
She knew he would assume she was strictly gay. She didn't know how to broach the subject of her attraction to him, didn't know if it was returned, maybe she was just mistaking all this concern for something more. She didn't know what to do.
She came.
++++++++++++++++
TBC in Chapter Six
/Chapter Five/
"Where *is* she?"
"She's taking care of them."
"Shouldn't *we* be helping?"
"She said to wait here."
Snort. "Typical."
Dawn kicked at the tree beside which she and Xander stood, then picked at the bark with her fingers. Xander glanced distractedly at her out of the corner of his eye, but mostly kept a nervous lookout.
A moment later his lookout revealed something.
"Tara?"
Tara approached with another figure he couldn't quite make out. Or maybe, that he wasn't attempting to make out, being far too distracted by her outfit.
"Xander?" Tara sounded surprised. "Um, hi."
"Tara." Before he could stop himself, he'd given her the very male once-over. "*Tara*," he said again. "Whoa, Nelly."
Tara tugged at the peasant blouse a little, but otherwise just smiled.
Dawn stepped out from behind the tree. "Tara!" she exclaimed cheerily. Her eyes grew wide with appreciation. "Whoo-wee! You go, girl!" Her wide smile lasted until her eyes refocused a yard or so to the right, at the person who was lagging behind. The sudden cold clench of those eyes showed she'd had no trouble identifying him.
Xander was still staring at Tara. Dawn elbowed him and gestured emphatically with her head. Xander woke up and gave his slack-jawed look another flavor.
Spike grinned mirthlessly. "Close your mouth, Harris, we are not a codfish."
Xander wasted no time. "What are you doing with him?"
Tara glanced at Spike, a bit mystified. "We just...uh, went to a club."
Xander nodded. "And again, the question remains, 'with *him*?'"
Tara's eyes moved even more uncertainly between her companion and the others. Spike stared straight at Xander, offering nothing. "I went *with him* because...Spike and I have been...hanging out."
"Hanging out." Xander eyed Tara's outfit and Spike's proximity in increasing alarm. "*Hanging* out," he repeated, louder. "Dressed like that. What the hell are you up to?" he accused Spike.
"Nothin', Doughboy." Spike felt bile rising, along with his own mounting alarm. "Whatsa matter, you confused at hearing about a man *staying with* a lady?"
Xander's face flushed purple and he balled his fists. Dawn stopped him from pouncing with a small hand and an astonished look. "Xander, she doesn't know."
"Whaddya mean, she doesn't know?"
"She doesn't know! I guess no one told her."
"Told me what?" demanded Tara. "Hello, standing right here."
"C'mon, love, the big squishy one's about to make up stories." His hand on her arm and a step away produced no movement. She stood rooted. Spike's anxiety ratcheted up a notch.
"Whatsa matter, Spike?" goaded Xander. "All confused by your past catching up to you?"
Spike's eyes narrowed. "Shut yer noise, you."
"Oh yeah, your 'love' for Buffy--" His fingers carved cruel notches in the air. "-- must've really been everlasting, seeing as you're already out trying to scam the only unsuspecting woman left in Sunnydale."
"Unsuspecting of what?" Tara seemed ready to stamp her foot.
"Shut. Your. Noise." sneered Spike at Xander.
"No! I will *not* keep quiet about the fact that you tried t---"
Spike cut off Xander's next words with a primal roar, launching himself at his tormentor and slamming him into the ground next to the tree.
"SHUT! YOUR! FESTERING! GOB!!" He grabbed his head in pain as Xander struggled under him, but managed to keep him down. He braced himself with gritted teeth before slamming him back into the dirt repeatedly, punctuating his speech with the blows.
"Think you know everything! Think you got the right to dictate MY BUSINESS!" He reeled from the pain but couldn't seem to stop shaking Xander till his teeth rattled.
Tara and Dawn pulled frantically, futilely at Spike's shoulders. Tara seemed beside herself. "Spike, stop hurting Xander!"
Spike wheeled on her in amazed fury. "Don't hurt *him*? Don't hurt *THIS*? Whose side are you on?"
Tara's face slammed shut in an instant. Spike's stomach abandoned him completely. "I'm on *my* side," she declared icily.
She turned and left. Spike watched helplessly. "Tara!"
Spike was left more than bereft by her departure - he was left off his guard. Xander slammed his knee up into Spike's groin. Spike howled in pain and rage, falling off Xander and onto his side. Xander sprang to his feet, seething.
"Yeah, I *think* I can tell other people your business," he panted, delivering a swift kick to Spike's ribs. He gained momentum, continuing to pummel Spike's curled form with his feet. "...you lying, *murdering*, *raping* piece of shit!"
"Xander!" Dawn's panicked voice finally managed to cut through his fog. "She's calling us!"
Xander abandoned Spike with one final foot-shove. Spike knew to crawl away quickly before the night got even worse.
++++++++++++++++
"Tara!" It hurt Spike's ribs to cry out. He held onto them and did it again. "Tara! Hang on!"
She finally stopped, without turning around.
Spike got close enough that he didn't have to yell, but then found himself at a loss for what to say. "You shouldn't...shouldn't go traipsing off by yourself, love," he croaked.
She half-turned to him. "You didn't leave me much choice. You were busy."
"Bloody hell, woman, d'you expect me to just stand there while that pillock prattles on about--"
"What were they trying to tell me?"
She'd finally turned to face him, straight on. Spike was momentarily speechless with bluster.
"Is that what this is all about, then?" he finally managed to spit out. "You believe the whelp over me? When I've spent so much time seeing to your--"
Tara's face was growing tighter by the second. Spike hadn't even completed his tirade before she was striding away again.
Spike was gobsmacked for the second time that evening. She wasn't playing by the rules.
He'd never had anyone deal with him in this way -- this no-nonsense don't-come-here-with-your-shit attitude. She was supposed to get flamboyantly mad too, and together they'd have a good bring-down-the-house fight, like with Buffy. Or else she was supposed coo and coddle him until he came down, taking his anger seriously but assuring him she had all the answers, like Dru.
Spike found himself running. "Sodding hell, love, give a bloke a chance..."
Tara stopped and whirled. "Is that what I'm supposed to do? Give you a chance? Is that what I'm *for*, Spike? Giving people more and more chances to fuck with me until there isn't any 'me' left? How long before you tell me that things'll go better if I just keep my mouth shut?!"
Spike gaped. Was that what she was hearing? What that what he was *saying*? Her eyes were filling and he hated it. "I'd never say that, pet."
"I'm done babysitting companions," she vowed. Her lip began trembling. "And I was trusting you..."
Spike entered Emergency Mode, wherein he could think of nothing besides doing whatever was necessary to make it better, to end her pain. In this case, it meant throwing aside every petty defense.
"Taking care of you feels like the best thing that's ever happened to me," he blurted truthfully. Another long moment passed. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
Tara took him in, her body still edged away from him. Spike waited -- would she ask again? The predicament had him almost shaking.
"I'm sorry," he repeated softly. "Old habits, really. Just that. Nothing more."
Her face relaxed, and he knew she believed him. The moment had passed, somehow. He was safe, in his deceit by omission. He felt relieved, and sick.
"See you home?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Spike realized he could see her dorm from there, a very short walk. There was little need for his presence, and he was sure she knew it, too.
Her sensitivity overwhelmed him.
Somewhere in the few moments back to her building, Tara reached to grip Spike's hand in a loose squeeze. "Tomorrow?" she asked softly.
Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Tomorow."
++++++++++++++++
An hour or two later, Tara couldn't sleep.
Despite their quarrel earlier, she was now feeling euphoric that the phenomenon of Spike was going on in her life, that this person had come along to solve her problems for her - or at the very least, point her in the direction of solving them.
But it also felt frustrating, in a strangely ecstatic, frantic sort of way.
She felt floaty-happy that she'd stood up to him and that he'd listened to her, that he'd tacitly agreed to do what she needed. She didn't even care anymore that she hadn't discovered what his secret was. Against her better judgement, she had started to think she didn't want to know.
She was having a door open in her mind, feeling that perhaps something she thought was impossible wasn't.
The scare she'd felt at her feelings in the club was abating. She was accepting the things those feelings whispered.
She snaked one hand down her belly and under the elastic of her panties. She let out a wordless gasp-sigh as her fingers found their mark.
She was accepting that she wanted her savior to be more. She knew she wanted to be...*everything* with him. She didn't know why. Her other hand snuck under her t-shirt to pinch at a nipple. Her hips began to rock just a little, and she felt sweat break out on her upper lip.
She thought maybe it was a kind of transference, something to do with mixed up feelings of gratitude. But she couldn't seem to make the feelings go away, and they were so strong that she was starting to not care about how - after a lifetime with her brother and father - she'd closed out the idea of men almost like a reflex, decided so young never to get close to a man that way that she'd practically forgotten that it had been a conscious decision. The years of quiet fear and bitterness -- so much a part of her for so long -- seemed to mean nothing now. She was afraid at how quickly she was dropping those defenses -- it felt like she'd done it overnight -- but they didn't make any sense to her in the face of him.
The bed was starting to squeak. Her forearm was cramping. She shook it out as fast as she could and returned to the rubbing with a redoubled moan.
She knew he would assume she was strictly gay. She didn't know how to broach the subject of her attraction to him, didn't know if it was returned, maybe she was just mistaking all this concern for something more. She didn't know what to do.
She came.
++++++++++++++++
TBC in Chapter Six