CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: GILES
It had taken Buffy three attempts to find the drawer for her pyjamas, and had taken another ten minutes before she had found something suitable for Spike to wear. She nervously handed him a pair of sweats that would have been far too big for him, but he just took them and rolled up the cuffs. He stripped off his shirt and didn't bother replacing it.
Buffy swallowed nervously as she took in Spike's well-sculpted chest, suddenly wondering what exactly he would expect of her that night. She knew she had made love before, she could remember how it felt, but she couldn't remember any names or faces of her previous partners. She felt insecure about it though, as though she was worried as to whether he would still be there in the morning, irrational as the thought was.
In her oversized tee-shirt and satin boxer shorts, she managed to slide under the covers, her heart beating rapidly. She began to wonder what she expected from the night. She had enjoyed kissing him earlier, she had to admit that, she had felt her body responding, but she knew that there was something missing between them. She had told herself that it was merely the memories that she was missing rather than love, for she was sure she must love the man who stared at her with such devotion.
Spike slipped into the bed and touched her face softly.
"Buffy?" he whispered.
She looked up to him, her eyes meeting the gorgeous blue of his. "Hmm?"
"I know we don't remember anything, but…I can feel it inside me. You're in my gut, you're in my throat. I'm drowning in you Buffy, I'm drowning in you," he said quietly, not quite sure why he was waxing poetic. The words seemed to flow through him though.
She looked at him thoughtfully. "You've said that to me before," she said.
He cocked his head to the side and leant forward to kiss her gently. "It feels right though, doesn't it? Like we belong together."
She wanted to agree, wanted to tell this man who was so obviously in love with her that she felt the same way, but she couldn't. All she could so however, was kiss him gently.
Spike took that as an affirmative response and returned the kiss with ardour, thanking whatever higher power he believed in that they had given him this gift. His hands ran across her body and he was too swept up in taking in this tiny girl that he didn't even notice how hesitant she was to return the passion that he was feeling. Her hands remained on Spike's back, staying still the entire time. She knew she should push him away, but the whispered words of love and devotion were doing a good job to convince her that they were engaged.
His whispered words of 'my love' and 'Buffy-love' were making her soul tingle. It was the accent she was sure of it. It was so familiar. Here, in the quiet moments, his accent had gone from the Cockney to a more cultured voice, much like his father's. Buffy pulled away at that realisation. She was beginning to respond because he had sounded exactly like Rupert.
Spike, however, didn't even notice and just moved his lips over hers again, continuing his whispered words.
With her eyes closed, all she could hear were the muttered words coming from this man who had overly cold hands. She had a feeling that she could remember cold hands, though she didn't know why. In the back of her mind, she knew that she had once responded to the coldness of a mans hands, that they had quenched a burning desire within her, but she somehow knew that it had only happened the once.
She was craving for heat and Spike's coldness was sorely lacking. She went to push him off her, but he paid her small effort no mind.
"Will," she whispered quietly in an attempt of protest, but Spike only heard it as he wanted to hear it. Filled with desire and love for him. He felt something within him stir and within moments, his sweat pants had been discarded and he had begun working on Buffy's boxer shorts.
"Will, no," she whispered, pushing him off her.
He moved his lips down to her neck, kissing the scar he had noticed earlier, the sight of it making him feel uneasy and somewhat guilty about being with this girl. But he could feel within himself that this girl was meant to be his. They were one and the same and he wanted to possess her like she had never been possessed before.
"I love you," he whispered again, moving his hands under her shorts to take it off her. She tried to stop him, but he used enough force to get her to comply without hurting her.
"Will, we really shouldn't," she said quietly, her protests dying out when he kissed her again, long and hard, making her breathless.
His fingers slipped inside her and Buffy was surprised that she had been responding to him. Before she could even grab his hand to move him away from her, he had manoeuvred himself to be inside of her, moving his hips in a slow fashion. Without thinking, Buffy moaned at the sensation, momentarily forgetting her protests. He began to move inside of her, and all of her protesting thoughts were swept out the window as he made love to her.
Spike could feel himself nearing the end of this exquisite torment of her heat, could feel the strength of what was about to happen inside of him. He growled low in his throat, the sound strange and yet somehow familiar to both of them. He nipped at her neck with blunt teeth, feeling the urge to sink his teeth into her skin, the very thought extremely disturbing.
He could hear her heart throbbing in her chest, could smell the way he was affecting the girl wrapped around him. He could taste the salty sweat on her skin was breathing in the smell of sunshine and roses. Without even thinking, he slid into game face and bit down on the scars that were on Buffy's neck, Buffy crying out as she felt his fangs pierce her skin. She couldn't tell whether she had cried out in pleasure or in pain.
"Giles," she cried out, coming hard as she felt him drinking from her.
Spike pulled back as he heard the name she had called out. Why hadn't she called out 'Will?' Why use his last name? It seemed strange for her to be calling that out in bed, completely foreign and unnatural, yet the words had slid from her lips as though she had said them before. Maybe she used to call him Giles as a nickname. But the way she had called him Will earlier had been soft and affectionate as well.
Buffy opened her eyes in as Spike pulled back, still in shock about what had just happened between them. He had bitten her! She took in Spike's game face and Spike could smell very real fear in the girl underneath him. He looked at her confused, one eyebrow cocked, making his transformed face look even more grotesque.
"What? Buffy-love, what is it?" he asked quietly. He nuzzled at her neck, oblivious to the bite marks he had just put there, as though he couldn't even remember feeding from her.
"You're…you…"
She struggled to find the words and pushed him off. He fell from her, their combined juices dripping between them as she pulled away from him and held the covers up to cover her body.
"Buffy, what? You're scaring me," he said worriedly.
She pointed at his face and then pointed at the mirror. "Just…go look in the mirror. You're…there's…there's something wrong with your face."
Spike looked at her as though she had gone mad, but still pulled himself away from the bed and walked to the full-length mirror, still completely naked. He stopped in front of it and looked at the glass expectantly. He saw nothing in front of him, and that was when the panic began.
"Holy shit!" he cried, bringing his hands to the mirror, trying to see if the glass was real or not. "I don't have a reflection."
Buffy got off the bed slowly, walking towards the mirror. He was right. She could see her reflection in the mirror even when Spike was standing directly in front of her.
"What the hell is going on?" she asked angrily.
He turned to her, still in game face and she couldn't help but jump back in fear. "Get rid of that…that thing on your face."
Spike brought his hands to his forehead and felt the ridges and skin where his forehead and eyebrows had once been. He ran his tongue over his fangs, tasting the blood that was still on them. He swallowed and knew that it was Buffy's blood he had been tasting.
"I don't know how," he replied frantically.
"M-maybe you just need to calm down," she suggested quietly.
He whirled at her angrily and she jumped back, startled by the hatred that she saw in the face of the man who had, only moments ago, looked at her with complete adoration.
He saw her move back and immediately felt guilty for it. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt the shift in his face almost immediately and he opened his eyes to see Buffy staring at him in fear. He stayed completely still until Buffy took the first step forward.
With shaking hands, Buffy brought her fingers up to touch Spike's forehead. She ran the tips of her fingers over his eyebrows, touching the small cross shaped scar as she went. He looked at her, his startlingly blue eyes begging her not to step back after she had completed her inspection.
"What are you?" she whispered quietly.
Spike looked at her in pain, hating the quiet question that had grazed her lips.
"A man who's in love with you," he replied. "Nothing else matters but that."
She nodded silently, trying to ignore the fact that her hand was trembling badly and that if Spike's hand hadn't come to rest on her hip, she probably would have fallen against him. Spike hesitated, but finally moved forward and laid a gentle kiss on her lips. Trying to ignore the fact that she was still desperately scared, she let Spike pull her back towards the bed and slide under the covers. It was a long time before Buffy was able to sleep comfortably in his arms, but when Spike had drifted off, purring contently, she had let herself listen to the low rumbles in his chest and finally fell into a deep sleep.
(Sorry it took so long for this chapter, it was kinda weird to write…hope you enjoy it…much angst to follow. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews and emails I've been receiving about this fic!!)