She watched as Spike slid from under the bed. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Tight squeeze," he commented as he sat down the on the bed again . Buffy had to laugh. This had to be the oddest thing that had ever happened to her, and being the Slayer, she had known a lot of odd. After she finished in her mirth she sighed and looked at him.
"We finish it tonight," Spike said as a gentle reminder, looking at her. Buffy tried not to wince. "I know," she managed to say. "Remember the plan," Spike said, as if she could forget. He looked at her. His heart, beating or not, felt for her. She may not ever feel for him but that didn't mean he didn't see her pain. Even a blind man could see it. He didn't want her to hurt. It just wasn't right. She was so young, so beautiful and vital, she didn't deserve this pain. He stood and advanced towards her.
She watched him contemplate her and studied his face as he came towards her. She didn't look away, she didn't step back, she just watched him. He stopped in front of her, less than a foot away. She stared into his eyes. What was he doing? Was her suffering really that obvious?
"Buffy, I'm sorry," Spike said slowly and reached out tentatively to hold her hand. He could have done anything, said anything, and she would have walked away. Anything except those words. She crumpled into his arms, bawling. She didn't care if he never felt for her, he was there now, and that's what mattered, because she needed him. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to protect her from everything, anything.
"Oh God it's not fair," She cried into his shirt front. "I know pet, I know, it's ok," Spike said softly, burying his face in her hair, the tears that were streaming down her face were too much to bear. He mumbled soothing words into her ear, stroking her back as she cried for what seemed like hours. He would have done almost anything at that point to make it better.
She slowly stopped crying and was left to sniffles and hiccups. Spike continued to hold her. She sniffed again and stepped away from him. She looked up at him and he thought he might die---really this time---when he saw her eyes. He couldn't describe the look in them.
There was the sadness he knew lay there, the sorrow and pain, but also the fierce determination he had learned to recognize. She was strong, things would turn out ok for in the end. He swallowed hard when he realized that he wished he could be there, in the end for her. What was he saying? All she could ever do was accept his presence. He wanted to slap himself for thinking such stupid things.
Buffy didn't know what had happened. One minute she was breaking, and the next he was there, holding her, assuring her life was going to go on. She had never known he had that in him. It was somehow just what she needed, someone to just hold her, someone who wouldn't judge her. Someone who knew how she felt. She wished he could do it all the time.
What was she saying? Spike? There for her all the time? Yeah right. And though she knew these things, she couldn't help but wish it was true. He had comforted her hadn't he? Perhaps there was something there. She looked up into his eyes. If she could have dried up right then she would have. Spike had no emotion in his eyes.
They were blank, erased of everything. She stepped away from him quickly. She was so stupid. To think that he would actually care? She wanted to laugh. She had no idea why he had comforted her, but she knew now that it wasn't because he cared.
"I'll see you later," she said with finality and quickly sped from the room.
****
Angelus paced angrily around the mansion, every so often hitting or throwing whatever was near. That no good bastard. Touching her. Groping her. Kissing her. He growled angrily. His. His fucking Slayer. And Spike was going to pay dearly.
If it wasn't for the invitation retraction spell he would have crashed through the window last night and killed the both of them. He had sat in the eaves of the tree, watching as they coupled and he thought he might burst into an angry ball of fire. He hit another wall. And her! The slut! Going around letting that filthy animal touch her.
She was worse than. . . than. . . he wasn't sure right now but it was bad. They were both to blame! Her and her skimpy outfits and teasing smiles. And him with his cocky grin and platinum blonde hair. He was going to kill them!
Just wait until Spike came back. He sniffed the air. Yes, sundown was soon, then he'd have a little chat with Spike. He stopped his rampaging when a voice called out to him. "Angelus, you're so angry." He turned to see Drusilla, looking like a scared little girl standing at the end of the hall. He walked over to her.
"I'm sorry baby, did I scare you?" Drusilla pulled away from him. "Everyone loves her more than me, they told me so, yes, even him." Angelus looked at her. She knew? And yet she was still in her calm, insane world? "I don't Dru, I don't." Drusilla laughed coldly. "Shh, the lies are too big for your silly little head. No one loves me. They all love her. Kill her for me Angelus, kill her and show me that you love me. Then we'll make Spike pay. We'll cut off his cute little toes and make crumpets for Miss Edith." She giggled.
Angelus hugged her to his chest. "I will baby, I'll kill her, and then we'll kill him too, don't worry." Drusilla pulled away again and floated away down the hall. "The sun is sleeping Angelus, I'm hungry." He watched her go and sighed when he heard the door close. He should probably go get someone to eat too, there would be plenty of time to kill Spike after breakfast.
****
He returned a few hours later, satiated and pumped up. He was ready now, and Spike wouldn't stand a chance. He walked up the stairs almost happily, savoring the moments before he would tear Spike to pieces. "Not a match for me my ass," he said to himself. He stopped short a few feet before Spike's door.
He could smell her. He snarled in anger. She wouldn't dare come here? That bitch! He took some more steps to the door before stopping again. This was too much. He could hear her. She was in there right now! In his bed! The soft breathy moans coming from behind the thick door spoke no objection. She was calling his name! Spike's name! He squeezed his hand into a fist. "Fuck! They're dead! They're fucking dead!"
With a cry he lunged towards the door and smashed it open. The last thing he saw was Buffy's blonde hair fanned out on the black silk sheets, Spike over her, before he knew nothing but darkness.
"We finish it tonight," Spike said as a gentle reminder, looking at her. Buffy tried not to wince. "I know," she managed to say. "Remember the plan," Spike said, as if she could forget. He looked at her. His heart, beating or not, felt for her. She may not ever feel for him but that didn't mean he didn't see her pain. Even a blind man could see it. He didn't want her to hurt. It just wasn't right. She was so young, so beautiful and vital, she didn't deserve this pain. He stood and advanced towards her.
She watched him contemplate her and studied his face as he came towards her. She didn't look away, she didn't step back, she just watched him. He stopped in front of her, less than a foot away. She stared into his eyes. What was he doing? Was her suffering really that obvious?
"Buffy, I'm sorry," Spike said slowly and reached out tentatively to hold her hand. He could have done anything, said anything, and she would have walked away. Anything except those words. She crumpled into his arms, bawling. She didn't care if he never felt for her, he was there now, and that's what mattered, because she needed him. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to protect her from everything, anything.
"Oh God it's not fair," She cried into his shirt front. "I know pet, I know, it's ok," Spike said softly, burying his face in her hair, the tears that were streaming down her face were too much to bear. He mumbled soothing words into her ear, stroking her back as she cried for what seemed like hours. He would have done almost anything at that point to make it better.
She slowly stopped crying and was left to sniffles and hiccups. Spike continued to hold her. She sniffed again and stepped away from him. She looked up at him and he thought he might die---really this time---when he saw her eyes. He couldn't describe the look in them.
There was the sadness he knew lay there, the sorrow and pain, but also the fierce determination he had learned to recognize. She was strong, things would turn out ok for in the end. He swallowed hard when he realized that he wished he could be there, in the end for her. What was he saying? All she could ever do was accept his presence. He wanted to slap himself for thinking such stupid things.
Buffy didn't know what had happened. One minute she was breaking, and the next he was there, holding her, assuring her life was going to go on. She had never known he had that in him. It was somehow just what she needed, someone to just hold her, someone who wouldn't judge her. Someone who knew how she felt. She wished he could do it all the time.
What was she saying? Spike? There for her all the time? Yeah right. And though she knew these things, she couldn't help but wish it was true. He had comforted her hadn't he? Perhaps there was something there. She looked up into his eyes. If she could have dried up right then she would have. Spike had no emotion in his eyes.
They were blank, erased of everything. She stepped away from him quickly. She was so stupid. To think that he would actually care? She wanted to laugh. She had no idea why he had comforted her, but she knew now that it wasn't because he cared.
"I'll see you later," she said with finality and quickly sped from the room.
****
Angelus paced angrily around the mansion, every so often hitting or throwing whatever was near. That no good bastard. Touching her. Groping her. Kissing her. He growled angrily. His. His fucking Slayer. And Spike was going to pay dearly.
If it wasn't for the invitation retraction spell he would have crashed through the window last night and killed the both of them. He had sat in the eaves of the tree, watching as they coupled and he thought he might burst into an angry ball of fire. He hit another wall. And her! The slut! Going around letting that filthy animal touch her.
She was worse than. . . than. . . he wasn't sure right now but it was bad. They were both to blame! Her and her skimpy outfits and teasing smiles. And him with his cocky grin and platinum blonde hair. He was going to kill them!
Just wait until Spike came back. He sniffed the air. Yes, sundown was soon, then he'd have a little chat with Spike. He stopped his rampaging when a voice called out to him. "Angelus, you're so angry." He turned to see Drusilla, looking like a scared little girl standing at the end of the hall. He walked over to her.
"I'm sorry baby, did I scare you?" Drusilla pulled away from him. "Everyone loves her more than me, they told me so, yes, even him." Angelus looked at her. She knew? And yet she was still in her calm, insane world? "I don't Dru, I don't." Drusilla laughed coldly. "Shh, the lies are too big for your silly little head. No one loves me. They all love her. Kill her for me Angelus, kill her and show me that you love me. Then we'll make Spike pay. We'll cut off his cute little toes and make crumpets for Miss Edith." She giggled.
Angelus hugged her to his chest. "I will baby, I'll kill her, and then we'll kill him too, don't worry." Drusilla pulled away again and floated away down the hall. "The sun is sleeping Angelus, I'm hungry." He watched her go and sighed when he heard the door close. He should probably go get someone to eat too, there would be plenty of time to kill Spike after breakfast.
****
He returned a few hours later, satiated and pumped up. He was ready now, and Spike wouldn't stand a chance. He walked up the stairs almost happily, savoring the moments before he would tear Spike to pieces. "Not a match for me my ass," he said to himself. He stopped short a few feet before Spike's door.
He could smell her. He snarled in anger. She wouldn't dare come here? That bitch! He took some more steps to the door before stopping again. This was too much. He could hear her. She was in there right now! In his bed! The soft breathy moans coming from behind the thick door spoke no objection. She was calling his name! Spike's name! He squeezed his hand into a fist. "Fuck! They're dead! They're fucking dead!"
With a cry he lunged towards the door and smashed it open. The last thing he saw was Buffy's blonde hair fanned out on the black silk sheets, Spike over her, before he knew nothing but darkness.