Do What You Have to Do
Part XVII
In his dreams he was with her. She was his and he hers and there was no one else. Every kiss, every touch of her lips or her fingertips sent a jolt of electricity through his body. Her hazel eyes were always filled with her love for him, the love he had always desired to see in a lover's eyes.
He staggered away as he saw her predatory gaze ravage his body. Never had he imagined that she would see him like this, as a lover, wholly and completely.
He bit his lip when her hand cupped his angular cheek. He stifled a groan when she leaned forward and darted her tongue out to catch the moisture from his lips. She traced their every curve and he fought to control his desire to devour her on the spot. No, he would let her lead, knowing that wherever she went he would follow even after all these years.
Her small hands, hands that carried so much strength, gripped his erection with a gentleness that shook him. Her delicate fingers worked him through the fabric of his thin pants.
"Buffy," he moaned as his hand found her trim waist. Her strokes became more demanding and her tongue flitted in and out of his mouth. His hips pushed forward of their own volition and his hand fell to her small yet supple bottom.
"Spike, my love," she moaned into his mouth as her breathless pants increased. Her teasing tongue became demanding and she thrust it into his mouth. Spike almost coughed at her commanding urgency.
"Buffy," Spike whimpered as her hands pressed against his chest, "Buffy, God, I love you."
"Spike, my love," she said again and pressed him more urgently with her hands. "Spike, wake up."
"Spike, wake up," Buffy whispered to her former lover. After her crying fit of last night, they had fallen asleep on the floor, not quite nestled together like the night before but their hands had been intertwined. It had only been her second night of contented sleep in the last six months and, ironically, both nights had been by the side of the man that lay in front of her.
The same man that had woken her up with gentle yet probing hands.
"Spike," Buffy repeated to no avail. His insistent hands were firmly grasping her butt and though she wanted him to stop, it wasn't because she didn't want to feel his touch. On the contrary, it was taking all of her willpower not to return his affectionate caresses…
"Buffy," he whimpered as he pulled her flush against his body. She gasped at the erection that poked against her stomach and unintentionally dug her nails into his chest.
"Bloody hell," Spike yelped and jumped back. Buffy swallowed a giggle at the look of shock etched across his features.
"Are you awake now?" She asked all too brightly and laughed at Spike's scowl.
"Well, my eyes 're open, aren't they?" He huffed and rolled onto his stomach. Of course, when he did so, he was made distinctly aware at just how awake he truly was.
Buffy saw Spike's eyes widen and the flush of he cheeks. She scrunched her face up in confusion until she saw him wiggle his hips as if to…
"And to think," She said, smirking, "I didn't do anything."
Spike cocked his head to the side and stared at Buffy, hoping against hope that she wasn't talking about what she thought he was because, for some reason, he was feeling quite sheepish this morning.
Well, that wish strikes out lookin', he thought as her upturned lips gave away the fact that she knew exactly what his 'problem' was.
"As if," he muttered and groaned when Buffy laughed again.
"'As if'?" She asked incredulously. "Did you just say 'as if'?"
"Yeah," he responded defensively, "what of it?"
"Well, nothing really." She rolled over to her back and clasped her fingers together behind her head as she looked at the ceiling. "It's just that, I don't know, what with the whole Alicia Silverstone thing, I think you have officially waived your right to be referenced as the 'Big Bad' ever again."
Spike groaned and buried his face into the carpet. Buffy laughed again and pulled her legs up, crossing the right over the left. Her leg bounced up and down for several minutes before Spike risked another glance at his love.
Cor, she's beautiful, he thought as his eyes took in the wonderful sight of a joyful Buffy. Though she still wore the same clothes from the day before, her soulful glow was unmistakable. Her gray blouse clung to her breasts and bunched just enough to show off her taut belly. As her leg bobbed back and forth, the slit on the side of her long skirt gave the peroxide blonde a good peek at Buffy's tanned legs. But her smile was what drew most of his attention. That and her sparkling eyes made Spike couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking about that made her so happy, especially after the tears she had spilled the night before.
Almost instantly, Spike's thoughts flickered to his abrupt wake up at the hands of the slayer. He had obviously been acting out the dream he had been having and Buffy had taken exception to that. He smiled to himself before a sliver of fear bloomed in his stomach as the memories of that one, horrible night bled into his mind. Buffy struggling against his insistent hands as she begged him to stop. The look of terror and betrayal written all over her face as she held her tattered robe to her chest.
"Ask me again why I could never love you." As her words drifted through his mind, Spike bit his cheek, drawing blood. The sting behind his eyes only intensified the anguish growing in his belly and Spike knew that he couldn't contain his grief much longer.
"Buffy?" He whispered and closed his eyes when she turned toward him. Won't do any good for her to see me about to crack up, he thought and took several steadying breaths.
"Yeah?" Buffy answered. She had been lost in the feel of being against Spike, of their hands laced together during the night, cherishing the safety she felt in being so close to him. She knew he felt it too and that's why, now, she stared at him in trepidation, knowing there was something wrong.
"I didn't…I didn't 'urt you, did I?" he asked furtively.
"What do you mean? Hurt me when?" She stared at him intently, as if she could will him to open his eyes so she could see what he was thinking but they remained closed.
"This mornin'. When you tried to wake me. I didn't 'urt you…I wasn't 'urtin' you was I?" Buffy's heart burned at the fear behind his words and, before she could think about it, she leaned over and kissed him chastely on the lips.
Spike's eyes widened in surprise at the tender gesture and when Buffy pulled away, he brought his fingers to his lips, wonder clearly etched in his features.
"No," Buffy said after a few minutes, "you didn't hurt me." Spike sighed at her admission, and returned her smile tentatively before relaxing once more against his hands.
They lay there in silence for the better part of an hour, both lost in a legion of thoughts that they both wanted and needed to share with the other. But they were both afraid; afraid of breaking the contented atmosphere that had formed around them and afraid of the answers their questions would receive. No, it would be better to indulge on the peaceful repose awhile longer because, God knows, it wouldn't last.
"Buffy?" Spike ventured at last. His tone was quiet and unsure and it sounded to Buffy like the voice of a shy poet, a man out of his own time.
"Yeah?" her response was equally timid, as a part of her instinctively knew what he was going to say.
"What…what did you say to Garrett last night?" Sighing reflexively, Buffy rolled onto her side in order to face the peroxide blonde. At her unspoken behest, he turned his head toward her and when their eyes met, both could taste the other's uncertainty and heartache, a bitter wine they had both become familiar with during the long years.
"Spike, I really don't know where to begin," Buffy admitted and swallowed the tears that crawled behind her eyes.
"What about the beginning?" He offered and she smiled at the support that glistened between his words.
"Well, I was born…"
"Buffy," Spike warned playfully.
"Fine, fine. Sheesh. Mr. Spoilsport," she muttered, rolling her eyes before the seriousness of her talk with Garrett took over.
Spike saw the hesitancy in Buffy's gaze, the weight of the situation heavy on her thin shoulders and he reached his hand out to her. She stared at it for a few seconds before reaching hers out and grasping it. It was automatic how their fingers interlaced and Buffy took a moment admire the near perfection of the pose. When she looked up, she saw Spike doing the same thing though there was a trace of confusion marring his sculpted features. It didn't take long before Buffy realized what it was but before she could say anything, Spike lips curled into an almost imperceptive smile before he returned his attention back to her hazel eyes.
Well, that's not quite how I wanted to start out, she mused humorlessly. But I guess we have to start somewhere.
"Yeah, about that," she said and turned her ring-less finger over in his hand.
"What happened?" Though he couldn't help but feel ecstatic, Spike also felt a sense of guilt about the whole thing. She had obviously called off the engagement and he was happy about that but he knew it hurt her to do it. Moreover, Garrett had proven to be a right decent bloke and Spike would never wish such a heartbreak on any man in love.
Well, maybe Angel, he thought amusedly before focusing back on his blonde spitfire. Not yours yet, mate, he reminded himself and used his other hand to stroke Buffy's disheveled locks.
"I gave him back the ring," she said, "as you can obviously see. I-I really had no choice."
"Why?"
"Because," she said as if the word explained it all. She dropped her gaze at the intensity of Spike's cerulean jewels. There was so much hope staring back at her that Buffy almost faltered at what she had to say.
"Because, I wasn't being fair to him. To be honest, I haven't been fair to him for the past six months."
"I thought you were happy."
"I was. It's just that," she sighed in frustration. "It's just that one day I was fine and then, the next…it was just like something wasn't right.
"Even then, I fought it and said yes when he proposed. I just thought it was jitters about being so close to someone and expecting them to leave, so I shook it off. It wasn't until two months ago that I could no longer ignore the feeling. Took all of about two hours to realize that it had to do with you.
"After I figured out that my unease had to do with you, it didn't take long for me to understand that, at the very least, it had to do with our lack of closure. I was still harboring a lot of feelings about you. Some good, some bad, but most of it was a jumbled cluster fuck."
"Cluster fuck?" He arched an eyebrow at her amusedly.
"I watch those army movies sometimes," she said defensively. They both chuckled before she regained her confidence.
"Anyway, I just didn't know what I wanted to do. I had already admitted to myself that you were important to me but just how important I didn't know." Still don't know, she added silently.
"So that's why you went to Peaches? Cause you knew he could find me."
"Yeah. And let me tell you, not fun in the least."
"I remember you tellin' me." Spike smiled at Buffy and the petite blonde shivered at the sincerity of his upturned lips.
"Yeah, well, you know the rest."
"Yeah, I do. Everything except last night, luv."
"Of course," Buffy sighed, "last night."
"Buffy, if you…"
"No," Buffy interrupted, "I owe you this much. Hell, I owe him this much." The cramping in her stomach that had gradually increased since she had begun speaking clamped over her abdomen with a brutal intensity. She wished she could call a timeout to catch her breath but that would not be possible. Suck it up, Slayer, she encouraged herself and decided to continue without any more excuses.
"I told him about the other night during patrol when we--you know."
"Oh, I know all right. So, what did Garrett the Gray say?"
"What would you say?"
"Somethin' not appropriate for your delicate ears, luv."
"What-the-freak ever. Anyway, I even told him that you were the one that stopped it all. Needless to say, he was really hurt by that. I didn't want to tell him but I knew that I had to be truthful about it."
"So what happened afterwards?"
"It got a bit intense. You know how I can be when I get mad. He said something I didn't like and I hit him." The last words were a mere whisper and Buffy cringed when she saw Spike wince, the former vamp no doubt remembering some of the times she had done the same to him. Shame coursed through Buffy at the memories and the tears she had kept at bay made their presence known. It wasn't until Spike cupped her cheek that she risked a look at her former lover.
"Did you apologize to him?" He asked softly, surprising Buffy with the question.
"Yeah, I did. Afterwards, we talked about you. More specifically, what I felt. About you."
Spike arched an eyebrow. "Me? What about?"
"He asked if--if I was in love with you."
*&*
At Buffy's words my heart sputters to a complete stop for a millisecond. That is, of course, until it starts up again at a right violent pace. My mind careens out of control as I remember how, at one time, I had been sure that Buffy loved me. Of course, that particular fantasy of mine quickly turned into my greatest shame.
I know that Buffy cares deeply for me. Hell, wouldn't 'ave asked for Peaches to track me down like a soddin' bloodhound if she didn't. So, yeah, I think she may love me. And a right lucky bloke I am for that. But in love with me? Not so sure 'bout that. Hell, who am I kiddin'? I won't even entertain that thought. Can't afford to if I 'ave to settle for bein' friends.
I shake my head, hoping that it will clear the emotional fog blanketing my thoughts but to no avail. Everything's still as muddled as before though I do finally regain my ability to speak.
"He asked you that?" My voice is unsteady but I don't care. Buffy nods and I glance at our still entwined fingers. I don't even know how I get the next question out but when it comes out, my breath catches in my lungs as I wait for her to reply.
"What…what did you say?" As the words leave my mouth, Buffy stiffens and her grip on my fingers intensifies uncomfortably though I push it aside.
"I…I told you…" She trails off and my heart cascades into the pit of my stomach. Her hesitation can only mean one thing; she may not be engaged but she doesn't want to be with me, either.
"Spike, I…" she hesitates again and I try to give her my best smile though I don't think she falls for it.
"You don't have to say it, luv. I know you care for me and all, but it's just not that way is it?" Her mouth gapes open but before she can reply, I cut her off. " 'S'not like I deserve it, either, that's for damn sure. Doesn't matter what you said anyway. What matters is that you get what you want, what you deserve. And that's happiness."
"But that's just the thing, Spike. I have no clue what I want. I mean, yeah I gave him back the ring and officially broke off the engagement and everything but what does that mean?"
"Depends on what you told 'im, pet," I reply, aiming for cocky but miss the mark completely. Buffy just stares at me. Her anger and frustration is apparent through the film of moisture glistening over her eyes.
"What? Just bein' truthful, slayer," I add defensively and she rolls her eyes in annoyance. I tell you; sometimes this chit can be so bloody difficult that even my lack of patience seems virtuous by comparison.
"Yeah, that's you; William the Truth," she deadpans. I growl at her flippant attitude but say nothing. I want her to tell me whatever it is that went on without having to pry it from 'er grasp like I'm the soddin' jaws of life.
"I told him," she says after a few quiet minutes of reflection, "that I wasn't sure what I wanted anymore. The only thing that I did know was that, with me feeling like this, I couldn't keep his ring and that 'hiatus' crap wasn't going to work. He told me that I should take some time, step away from things for a bit before I even contemplate making a decision."
I nod solemnly before it strikes me just what she's saying. I stare at her in disbelief, knowing that I look like a poofter but I don't care. Besides, she's not lookin' at me anyway.
"I promised him I would. Take some time, I mean. I know how he feels about me. Couple that with the fact that I'm even considering about being with someone else hurts him so bad. And it hurts me, too." She props her head on her other arm and fixes her luminescent pupils on one of my shirt buttons.
"I also told him that I would stay away from you, too."
"Stay away? What do you mean?" I can't help the danger that creeps into my voice and, for an instant, I almost feel as if I'm gonna vamp out. Kinda hard, though with no demon inside o' me.
Buffy notices my change and looks at me placating eyes and the Spike-o-meter drops to tolerable levels.
"He doesn't expect me to stop seeing you or anything like that. He's not that crazy," she says and her lips twist in a light smirk, "but…" she trails off and I nod in understanding. And acceptance.
"But our current arrangement needs to be re-evaluated."
"Big time," she says and pulls her hand away from mine, though it is with a reluctant sigh. "As much as I want you here, it's not right to have to stay here. I knew it wasn't right for the beginning but I pretty much overrode sensible Buffy but I didn't want you out of my sight. I was too afraid that when I turned around, you would be gone to parts unknown."
My hand moves up to her face and my fingertips dance across the silken skin of her cheek. "Told ya, luv, that I'm here to stay. No matter what 'appens, you're not getting rid of me that easily."
"Promise?"
"Til the end of the world."
Her eyes glistens with unshed tears as she smiles although the latter is quite fleeting. "How can you be so calm?"
"Not sure I get you."
"How can you be so understanding knowing that I don't even know if I want to be with you?" She lowers her eyes and I watch in sorrow as she worries her lip in shame. "I thought you would hate me."
A brief flash of anger crosses my features and Buffy tenses, undoubtedly sensing my mood change. I lift her chin up so she has to look me in the eye and a lance of pain slices into when I see the two single tears sliding down her cheeks.
"I will tell you this one time and one time only." I pause. " 'ell, I'll tell you this as much as you need me to. Buffy, I will never hate you. No matter what 'appens between us, I will always love you. You bein' in my arms or me bein' on the other side of the bleedin' planet won't change that. You're in my gut, Summers. Always have been, always will be, I reckon." She stares at me with eyes so full of sadness, hope and fear that I decide to try and lighten the mood.
"Now, that's not to say that I still won't want to rip your bleedin' head off from time to time, but that goes without sayin'."
"So why did you say it?" She asks quietly though I can see the makings of a smile just visible at the corners of her mouth.
"Didn't want you to think I'm totally whipped. Gotta maintain at least a hint o' the Big Bad, luv."
"I'm so sure," she exclaims sarcastically and rolls her eyes. "So, you understand, about you not being able to stay here?"
"Buffy, don't worry 'bout me, okay? I was gonna go out later on today, look at some flats across town. But I gotta wait till my car gets here."
"I hope it's better than the de Soto."
"Oy, Slayer. You're treadin' in dangerous waters talkin' bout my black beauty."
"Do me a favor, nix the black beauty thingy. Reminds me too much of your crazy ex ho-oney," I chuckle as she covers her tracks.
"Deal." She gives me a warm smile and before tackling me in a bear hug. She pulls away and gives me a sheepish bat of her eyes before she sits up.
"Know what time it is?"
"Twenty after nine," I say after a quick peek at my watch.
"Think it's about time to get up, don't you?" She asks and stands up. I lick my lips unconsciously at the golden expanse of her leg through the slit of her white skirt. My eyes roam over her body, envious at how intimately the skirt and blouse grip her delicious curves.
"Already up, luv," I say without thinking and when I realize what I said my furious blush matches hers.
"Well, uh, yeah. Well, I'm about to take a shower, okay?"
"Yeah, sure thing, luv. I'll, uh, I wager I'll do the same."
"Good," she replies a bit too eagerly. "Well, I'm going," she says and begins to walk out of the room. She stops before getting out of view and turns around to face me.
"Thank you."
"For what?" I ask as she turns away and though she never turns around, her single word drifts across the space between us. It signifies what I would do for her, what I would give up for her. It is what I want her to have and, ultimately, what she means to me.
Everything.
*&*
Buffy leaned her head against the cool tiles of the bathroom, reveling in the warmth of the water's deluge. She had allowed (or was that forced) the water to rinse away the tension that the past twelve hours had thrown at her.
A wave of sadness washed against Buffy as she remembered Garrett's face last night, the pain and disappointment staring out at her from his gray eyes. He had resigned their fate to what she decided in the coming weeks. He hadn't given her a timeframe but had firmly told her that she had to decide something, not just for him and Spike, but for her as well.
Although she agreed with his conjecture, it was still difficult to go through with it, knowing that, sooner or later, she would have to close the book on one man in her life. She knew that whomever was not chosen would still be important to her and they would continue to talk. But gone would be the intense mental and emotional connection she had made with Garrett the last two years and the past few days with Spike.
At the thought of her former lover, Buffy sighed. How had she, in less than a week, gotten so attached to the same man that had, at one time, wanted nothing more than her head on a post? Yeah, he hadn't been her enemy in years but that was beyond the point. Hell, not two years ago, he held her down in the other bathroom and tried to…
Buffy shivered and turned the hot water on even further. Even now, when she thought about that night, her body reacted involuntarily. The funny thing was, though, was that, as much as she had been around Spike, as much as they had touched, never did she pull away in revulsion. Spike may have done it but she hadn't. Buffy smiled to herself at the implications of not pulling away; finally, after so many months of alternating between damning him and wishing for his return, the wound that his violation had left in her had finally healed. Though the scar would always be there, no longer would she have to worry about it reopening.
Satisfied with the shower, Buffy turned the water off and stepped onto the soft bathroom rug. She used an oversized towel to dry off before wrapping it around her body and trudging to her room. Making her way directly to the closet, Buffy searched for what would be her daily attire. She had one more day of vacation before she had to return to the bank and wanted to wear some comfortable clothes not associated with slayage. It didn't take her long to find a pair of white shorts and her purple tank top that had Slayer written across the chest in silver.
Buffy sat on the bed and coated her skin with baby oil. She put on her purple thong and bra set that she had lain out earlier. After fastening her shorts, she slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops before tugging the tank top over her head.
"Stupid hair," the blonde muttered after running a hand through her wet locks. She ran a brush through it quickly and shook her head, laughing as drops of water assaulted the mirror. "Okay, Summers, time to start acting your age." Checking herself over in the mirror one more time, Buffy headed out her door…
And right into a half naked Spike.
"Don't you ever put some clothes on," Buffy demanded, attempting to hide her fluster. Spike saw through her guise and smirked.
"So now it's a problem, luv? Didn't think that would 'appen. Guess I'm losin' my appeal."
"Whatever," Buffy muttered and shoved him in the chest. Her flesh burned from where she touched him and she felt the heat intensify throughout her small frame.
Oh God, Spike. If you only knew how much I want you, she thought before quickly reprimanding herself. She had a decision to make and continuing to let Spike affect her like this was not of the good. If she was going to be with Spike, if she was even going to consider it, it had to be about something more than the physical. It had to be about trust and love and devotion. Yes, passion would be a big part of it but if she let it become the focal point of things…well, it would definitely end badly, just like before.
"Buffy." The slayer snapped out of her thoughts when Spike snapped his fingers in her face.
"What?"
"Doorbell, luv."
"That may be Garrett," Dawn called out from her door.
"Morning to you, too, Dawn," Buffy replied sarcastically to her unseen sister. "That why you took so long getting ready?"
"What do you think, luv?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed before stomping away, tossing over her shoulder something about 'sarcastic ass blonde ex-vampires not being able to answer a question'.
She heard Spike chuckle behind her but chose to ignore it as she bounded down the steps. The doorbell chimed again as she reached the landing and Buffy huffed in annoyance.
"All right, all right, I'm coming," she yelled and peeked out the window. Her brow furrowed when she saw the black Firebird convertible outside.
"That's not Garrett's car," she said and made her way to the door. The sight the greeted her was the last thing she expected.
The visitor at the door was a woman. She was about five-eight or so and was dressed in and white silk jogging suit with red trim with sneakers to match. A black leather purse hung over one shoulder and a set of keys dangled in one hand. Her raven hair was tied in a ponytail, giving Buffy a perfect view of her immaculate face.
The sun shone off her bronze skin and the slightest trace of lipstick coated her lips. The dark sunglasses she wore masked her eyes but her pencil thin eyebrows arched in amusement at the slayer's perusal.
"Hi," she said and Buffy was taken aback by the woman's raspy yet melodious voice.
"Uh, hi. Can-can I help you?"
"Well, I don't know. Are you Buffy Summers?" Buffy's body was instantly poised to spring. She bent her knees and turned her body to the side. Her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists.
The woman noticed the change and laughed while simultaneously lifting her hands up and showing her palms in supplication.
"Whoa there," she said a bit nervously, "not here to fight you."
"What do you want?" Buffy sneered, feeling an instant (if not irrational) dislike for the woman.
"Actually I was looking for Will."
"Will? As in Willow?"
"No. Will as in William Summers."
Buffy relaxed minutely and let out a breath she wasn't aware that she had been holding. "This is the Summers but there's no William Summers here."
"Hmmm," the woman grunted, "he left this address when he called the club the other day."
"Club?"
"Yeah. The Blue Song. It's in San Diego." The brunette caught the look of recognition on Buffy's face and it dawned on her. "You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" Buffy nodded.
"Yeah. It's just that he really doesn't go by William around here."
"Oh, that's right," Rachel said and hit herself in the head with the palm of her hand. "He told me that he went by the biker name."
"Spike," Buffy supplied flatly.
"Yeah, that's it. Never really got used to calling him that." Noticing Buffy's growing discomfort, the woman toned down her excitement and gave the slayer a reserved smile.
"Sorry to be so cryptic and inconsiderate," she said and stuck out her hand. "Rachel. Rachel Sanderson. Will's told me so much about you."
Buffy took the proffered hand, resisting the urge to squeeze just enough for it to hurt. Instead, she did the politically correct thing. She lied.
"Pleased to meet you, too, Rachel." The name came off of Buffy's tongue like a viscous fluid. There was something about this woman that Buffy didn't like and she decided that she knew exactly what it was.
As she ushered the brunette into the house, Buffy frowned at the woman's rudeness. She had just taken her sunglasses off when Buffy invited her in and that was the reason the slayer didn't like her. Yes, sir, that was the reason. It had nothing to do with the fact that this was the woman that helped Spike adjust to the guilt that having a soul had brought. Nor was it the fact that he had cried on her shoulders, showing emotions he had never shown Buffy. Nope. The woman was rude. The fact that Spike held her in high esteem had nothing to do with Buffy's disdain with this 'Rachel'. Nope.
Nothing at all.
TBC…
***Oh boy, Ms. Rachel is in town. Buffy doesn't seem to be taking to kindly to Rachel's presence and she has yet to even see the brunette and Spike together. This ought to be interesting. Very interesting.