Do What You Have to Do
Part XIX
Buffy collapsed on top of her lover, spent from her third orgasm in forty minutes. Her head rested between the crook of his neck and her breasts were crushed to his chest, his heart pounding against his ribcage joining hers in the staccato beat that announced a body well satiated.
"Wow," he said and Buffy smiled into his skin. During the countless times they had made love—no, shagged—he had never lacked the words to quantify their carnal exploits. To see him, or rather, hear him so speechless rekindled the ebbing flame of her desire.
"'Wow'?" She mocked and ground her hips against him. He moaned and she felt his flaccid cock harden inside her. "Your first sexual experience as a human and you make me come three times in less than an hour and all you can come up with is 'wow'?" She punctuated the last word with a vicious pop of her hips forward and Spike cried out her name.
"Now," she said, a Cheshire cat grin etched across her swollen lips and rotated her hips clockwise on top of him, "that's more like it."
She lost track of time as she rode him, enjoying the sweat that coated their flesh. The mutual sweat shared between lovers during sex had been something she had loathed with Riley and though it had not been a distraction with Garrett, the slickness of she and Spike's bodies as they perspired turned the slayer on to no end. Just the thought of it brought her to her fourth orgasm of the night.
"God, Buffy," Spike moaned, "I love you so much." The muscles in her thighs tightened at the endearment and she forced herself to look into his eyes. The sight of the love that stared back at her was almost too much and she nearly lost it when he smiled.
Spike pumped furiously into her, the sound of skin smacking together accompanying the various grunts and groans of the couple like some erotic symphony. He watched in glee as her breasts bounced ever so slightly with each of his thrusts. He pulled her down and suckled one hard nipple, ripping a moan from her throat and her ministrations became more frantic, intent on her fifth release of the night.
Buffy had never felt so aroused in her life and all she wanted now was Spike's hot seed to fill her insides. She was so close and, by the way he tightened within her, Spike was not too far behind. Still, it wasn't enough; she wanted to come now.
As if hearing her thoughts, Spike tore his mouth away from her breasts just long enough to whisper "Mine" in her ear before clamping down on her neck with blunt teeth.
Buffy screamed as her walls closed in on his now pulsing member. Her nails dug into his shoulder and she vaguely heard the sound of her name float from his lips as utter and complete bliss snaked its way through her limbs before she exploded in a burst of emotion, love and arousal as she repeated his name over and over…
"Buffy," a voice called to her. She recited Spike's name again and was greeted by a snicker before a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She moaned and turned to her side, forcing her non-cooperating eyes open.
The vision before her was familiar though, in her sleepy haze, she couldn't quite make it out. Not until the figure put its hands on its hips and cocked its head to the side did Buffy realize who it was.
"D-Dawn!" She screeched and shot up in bed, mortified.
The youngest Summers smirked at the disheveled blonde. "In the flesh," she said wryly before adding, "of course, by what you were saying, I'm probably not the person that you want to see in that condition, now is it?"
The slayer groaned in embarrassment, the reddish hue of her cheeks glowing despite the sun spilling into her room. She was about to swing her legs out of the bed but thought better of it when the evidence of her orgasmic dream made itself known as she shifted her thighs.
"What do you want, Dawn?" She barked though, even to her own ears, it came out more as a guilty squeak.
"Oh nothing," the teen said through her grin. "Just telling you that I was probably gonna spend the day, and quite possibly night, with Janice and Kit. And…"
"Those two are getting along?"
"They have been since graduation," Dawn supplied, annoyed at the interruption. "And you know that, for the past two weeks we've been hanging out."
"Oh."
"Yeah, 'oh'. Anyway, I just came in here to tell you that your dreaming of Spike lust has made you late." Dawn gave her sister and much too cheery smile before bouncing out the room.
Buffy blinked in confusion before she glanced at the clock.
7:53.
"Damn," she cursed before throwing the covers off of her. She was supposed to be at work at eight, a goal that was definitely not going to be met. Grabbing her cell phone, Buffy dialed the number to work but the beep in her ear caused her to groan in frustration. Evidently, she forgot to charge the phone.
"This is just the perfect little start to a beautiful Monday morning."
*&*
"So, what do you think, pet?" I ask Rachel. For the past three weeks, we've scoured Sunnydale with two goals in mind. One, to find the right spot to set up another Blue Song, something this hell city needs and, two, to find me a flat so I can get out of the soddin' extended stay motel I've been cramped up in.
Rachel walks around the living room with a pensive scowl, her high heel boots clicking against the hardwood floor. The black leather skirt crackles with each step she takes, her purple blouse accenting her more than adequate--assets. Bloody 'ell, what would Buffy think if she knew what was goin' on in my head? She'd throttle me nice and proper, I fancy.
"What's wrong, Will?" Rachel asks and walks over to me.
"Don't quite know what you mean, 'Night." When in doubt, lie. 'S always been my motto.
"Oh, so that death sigh you just exhaled was nothing, huh?" She asks sardonically and I throw a patented 'Spike scowl' her way--to which she only laughs at.
"Out with it, old man."
"Old man? I'll have you know that William S. Summers, as it has on my license is twenty-eight years of age. Hardly old."
"Yeah, and you and I both know the real deal." She tucks her bang behind her ear and fixes me with that determined gaze of hers that only Buffy can top. "Oh, by the way, your attempts at distraction won't work. You should know that by now."
I smirk at that and lean against the wood-lined walls of the flat and cross my arms. My eyelids flutter closed and I'm greeted with highlights of the past three weeks.
Buffy and I have been taking things slowly. We've been out five or six times since I vacated casa de Summers, each date getting to know a little bit more about each other. Last night had been our latest date. We walked around downtown Sunnydale for hours, talking about the past, present and possible future. At the end of the night, we kissed. It was the first one since that night in the cemetery. Took everything I had to walk away without shovin' her against the door and shaggin' her crazy.
So the past few weeks have passed with me more or less in Rachel's company twenty four/seven. We've gotten a chance to talk about a lot of things, including Buffy and me. Rachel's helped me get a perspective, if you will, on things. The first time Buffy said she was goin' out with Garrett, I had an attack of William the Bloody and Rachel sat there, bemused, as I raved about how I was gonna rip his entrails out if he touched her. Course, being the realist that she is, Night told me, in no uncertain terms that, if anybody had a right to be angry it was Garrett. After a few minutes exposition from her, I shut down, knowing that she was right.
"I don't know, Night," I tell her truthfully. The thing is, so much is bothering me, I don't have a clue as where to start and I tell her this.
"Why don't you start with the central problem."
"Okay, Doctor," I reply and slide to the floor. "What do you wager my 'central problem' is?"
"Oh, that's easy," she says and sits down in front of me, "starts with a 'B', ends in a 'Y'."
So we talk and it's just like the handful of conversations we've shared the past few weeks. After about ten minutes, I realize that bein' away from my slayer's eatin' away at me more than I admitted to myself. Two years 'ave changed me quite a bit but, at times, I turn into the insecure William with the Bloody awful poet.
"Will, there is really nothing you can do, you know that, right? Whatever happens is for Buffy to decide. And knowing her, it may take some time for her to make up her mind. If she ever does." Rachel whispers the last part bitterly and I frown at the implications. I know she still loves me and I sometimes catch 'er lookin' at me the same way I look at Buffy. Sometimes I wish that I could be what she deserves but my 'eart's all Buffy's and we both know it. Funny, if the situation were reversed, I wouldn't care. Hell, I knew Buffy didn't love me back when we shagged like demons in heat, no matter how much I tried to convince myself. Every chance she gave me to touch her body was another chance for me to convince her that I was someone she could love. Call it weakness, or need to be loved, whatever it was, I took the scraps she gave me. Rachel wouldn't do that, hell, she didn't on the few occasions we did have a snog-fest goin'. She'd always stop before it went too far and, if it'd been up to me, too far it'd 'ave went. God, I wanted 'er, still do in a way. Guess it's because I know she loves me with a clean slate. She hasn't seen what I'm capable of. She hasn't lived through me tryin' to kill 'er. Makes a bloody big difference. Course the other reason is that, despite everything I did tell 'er, she's never once looked at me in disgust. Never 'ad to worry that I was beneath 'er. Sometimes, even now, I think how much easier it'd be for me if I could love Rachel like I love Buffy.
'Course, bein love's bitch like I am puts a damper on that whole idea.
"It ain't gonna be easy, Will," Rachel says, putting an arm around me. I jump at her proximity, unaware that she had moved closer to me. "If you think that's the case, well, then you might as well give up now. But if you think there's a chance that she does love you, does want to be with you—if you think it's worth it, then you will hang in there." She cups my face with one hand and kisses me on the corner of my mouth. I see the tears brimming in her cheeks but before I can say anything, she gets to her feet and dusts off her skirt.
"I like it," she says and her eyes survey the expanse of the flat. "What with a few days shopping, this place'll be quite posh." She smiles down at me and I return it before getting to my feet.
"You know, I think you're right." We walk through the rest of the flat, taking mental notes here and there. It's a two bedroom flat, one master, one guest, and both have their own baths. At the back, adjacent to the master bedroom is a right decent study.
"This would be a perfect library or your very own Fortress of Solitude, you know, for writing." She throws it out so casually that I have a mind to ask her to repeat it before it rings in my mind.
We finally finish the tour and end up in the kitchen, leaning next to one another against the island, staring out the wall-sized window of the living room. I smile as the sun bathes everything within reach in what had once been instant death for me. The whole place caters to the sun, the light shining in from all angles and, the more I think about it, the more I believe that, subconsciously, I wanted it that way. I never really sussed out how much not being able to stand in the light had bothered me during my exile into night. But for the last two years, I bath in the light every chance I get. Nothing like making up for lost time.
"I think she'll like it," Rachel's voice cuts through my remembrance and I look at her in question.
"Buffy," she reiterates, "I think she'll like it." I can only smile at her observation. She's right, Buffy will like this. Sun in every room, workout room, rather nice sized kitchen (though I'm still rather wary of her cookin') and all the other amenities of a cozy lil' home away from home. "I know I do," she whispers and I flinch at the longing in 'er voice. I shake my head bitterly before walking out the kitchen and into the main room. I want to scream at the world, tear the 'ead off anyone and anything right about now. As much as I want Buffy, as much as I want to make 'er 'appy, it tears at my 'eart that Rachel's in so much pain.
I stare out at the window, blind to the beauty of nature. Rachel's arms wrap around my waist and her breasts are crushed to my back, her cheek resting on my spine. After a few seconds of feeling her chest rise and fall against me, I match her breathing like I had done those first few weeks when she would calm me during the worst of my nightmares.
"Will, don't" she whispers as the first tear falls down my cheek.
"Can't 'elp it, pet. 'S just so bloody hard." There is nothing for several minutes save for the synchronous workings of our lungs. Finally, I whisper, "Why does it 'ave to be so painful?"
"Why does what have to be so painful, sweetie?"
"Love." Her body tenses against mine ever so slightly and I can almost hear her mind tossin' the question back and forth.
"It's not love that's painful, William," she replies softly, "but the long road in finding it, that's the bitch." I chuckle softly at that but sober immediately.
"So what is this I feel, if it's not love?" I ask and can't keep the sardonic tone from my words.
"It is love, you idiot," she replies and pinches my sides. "But it's not your love that's making you hurt here." Her left hand moves up my body and pats my chest. "It's that shoddily constructed road that's the problem. More ditches and bumps than a country back road. You're still on that road, Will, searching for that special place two people find when they are both crazy in love with each other."
"So I'm still surfin' that pesky rainbow, huh? Waitin' to get to that soddin' pot o' gold?"
"Something like that."
"Oh, that's just peachy, innit?" My words are sour and Rachel flinches against me. She sighs deeply before grapping me by my shoulders and turning me around. I'm shocked when I look at her and see the tears cascading down her cheeks.
"No, Will, it's not peachy," she says, her voice eerily calm. "It's hard, it's disgusting and it's unfair. There will be times when you just want to quit, just scream to the world, sod it all and go on your merry way. Sometimes you'll look at that special person and wish that you'd never met them, or you'll damn them for making you feel that way. At times you'll be bitter, angry and resentful towards them, especially if they don't return your sentiments or aren't as quick on the uptake."
I shiver at her words and the truth that they represent. Everything she's said, I've felt towards Buffy. How many times had I been this close to leaving for good? How many times had my emotions carried my thoughts away from me and allowed my demon to whisper in my ear—"she doesn't love you, she never will. Not like this. Take her, while she's sleep. Make her like us and then she will be by our side for eternity." More often than I'd like to admit, that's for bloody sure. So many times I wanted to belittle her, bring her down to my level, hurt her with my words, but I didn't. I didn't because I loved her. I loved her then, when she was a right bitch to me, using me then discarding me. And I love her now, the new Buffy, the one that's still breaking through that shell of hers that's been in place for so long.
I open my mouth to speak but the glare of the light across Rachel's irises stops me. It doesn't take long for me to recognize the pain behind those beautiful eyes—it's been my constant companion my whole bloody existence, it seems. It's everything she's been telling me these past few minutes. I turn away, unable to see the pain in her eyes—pain that I've caused.
"You've never asked me to love you, Will," she says and I look up at her. It's eerie how she sometimes seems to read my mind but I should be used to it by now. But I'm not. Two years of livin' with her and she still surprises me.
"Rachel," I start but she shushes me with a finger to my lips before drawing me down into a kiss. The love and frustration that rises from her lips and tongue as it enters my mouth knocks me breathless. Her hunger and passion match my own as I return the kiss and, despite the burgeoning lust that builds with each thrust of tongue and nip of teeth, our hands remain passive against the other's waist.
We break apart simultaneously after several minutes, both gasping for air and we lean our foreheads together. My mind is racing with anticipation of the possibilities as well as guilt. Not only do I feel like I've cheated on Buffy but that this kiss will somehow ruin what Rachel and I have built. The thought of that sours the taste in my mouth but not enough to overpower the jasmine flavor of her lips.
"I love you, Will," she says after drawing a deep breath. "I think I've always have, from the first time I saw you outside my apartment. And I will always love you."
"Rach…"
"No. Let me say this. Like I said, I will always love you…but I—but I know that our paths aren't going in the same direction and I accept that. I know that someday I will find someone else whose heart won't already be taken and I will take that same jumbled road with him until we get to our special place. But I will never forget you and I will always be here for you. And now that you've got your place, it's no reason for me to stay. Will, don't try to talk me out of it, you know it's the best thing."
"Do I?"
"I've held out when you've wanted to do more than just kiss for too long. What happens if Buffy does something that hurts you and I'm here with you, comforting you? How long until my resolve breaks and we do something that we can't take back? As much as I do want that, it would break my heart even more afterwards because I know that you would look at me with regret for doing it. I'm strong, Will, but I don't know if I could handle that.
"I know it sounds like I'm running away but I need time away from you. Besides, you know I've been away from the Blue Song for way too long. Two trips there in three weeks isn't enough and as good as Damon is and as much as I do trust him, he can't run it like you can."
"Or you," I whisper.
"Or me," she concedes with a smile. "The point is, Will, is that you have Buffy here for you and, during those times of turmoil with you guys, Willow and Dawn will be there for you."
"But it's not the same," I pout and she laughs. The sound of her laughter breaks the somber mood and we gaze at each other, so much left unsaid between us, yet we've never needed words. We've always clicked.
"Okay, ya big baby. But you know I have to go."
"Doesn't mean I 'ave to like it."
"I know. It will be hard, on us both, especially since we've spent pretty much every hour of everyday together for the past two years. It's gonna take some time getting used to."
"But…" I stutter. "But what if Buffy doesn't want me? What if our paths aren't meant to cross and I end up goin' at it alone?"
"Will, you'll never be alone so long as I'm around. And besides, your paths do cross." She kisses me on the cheek and walks toward the door. I stand there, feet immobile as my mind races with so many ifs and buts. There is so much I want to say to her while we have this time alone but the only thing I can think of is…
"How do you know?" She stops at the door and turns towards me. Cocking her head to the side, she fixes me with a lopsided grin.
"Call it a woman's intuition. Trust me, Will, you and Buffy will find your special place. And it will be better than anything you've ever dreamed of." She gestures to the door before walking out and my trance is broken. Following her out and locking the door behind me, I wonder if she is right—that Buffy and I will find that special place of ours.
*&*
Buffy flopped in the chair, her hair strewn about and her feet free from her heels. She slouched down as far as humanly possible before groaning loudly to the empty house. She had decided that tonight was going to be a night of Buffy-pampering, as she had nothing else to do. Everyone else had plans. Dawn was with Janice and Kit, Willow was going out with Kennedy again, and both Xander and Anya were out of town, tending to matters of their respective jobs.
"Well, I could call Giles," she said aloud and regretted it as the pang she thought had dissipated from his departure flared up again.
Giles had returned to England the week after Dawn's graduation. Even after all this time it still hurt every time she watched him get on the plane. They had had a heartfelt talk about their relationship, Buffy telling the older man in no uncertain terms that she saw him in every was as being her father. He had blushed at that and declared his own feelings for his slayer--the daughter every man could only hope to have. She had cried at that and hugged him tightly, not wanting him to go. He had promised to visit sometime soon and that, when he did visit, he quite possibly could have a surprise for her. The latter had been the only thing that had staved her tears.
Buffy wiped at her eyes angrily, upset with herself for allowing Giles's departure more than two weeks ago continue to affect her. Yeah, she missed him and all but come on, she was twenty-three years old and it's not like he hadn't left before.
It's not Giles that you're upset about is it? A much too smug voice reminded her. Could it be that you're upset that a certain British blonde isn't here with you instead of with that other woman? The voice taunted and Buffy growled as she made her way to the kitchen, stopping in from of the hallway mirror.
"I am not upset about Spike not being here," she said aloud. "Nope, nope, nope. Just some leftover emotion from Giles leaving again, right?" The last part was a desperate plea to the face that stared back at her. But the truth was written in the hazel eyes of her reflection.
It's all about him, the voice said, admit it and then maybe you can get closure in this mucked up love life of yours. And wasn't that the truth? Her love life had always been screwed up and now was no better. Hell, now was much worse than it had ever been before.
Three weeks and she had yet to make a decision. She had spent several lunches with Garrett after he had come back from vacation. They had gotten along rather well and she was thankful for that. She was still tense around him at times, the guilt about breaking it off with him had failed to lessen and she wondered if it ever would.
And then there was Spike. She had gone out with him a handful of times as well. Just as with Garrett, she and Spike had spent time together getting to know one another and it had been going quite well. There was no pressure from him to further things, they had actually started to be friends, something she had never gave him the opportunity to be in the past and it was something that she now regretted more than anything.
Shaking her head, Buffy walked into the kitchen and scrounged the cabinets for something to eat. It would have been simple for her to order out but being alone was the perfect time to do some experimentation of the culinary variety. She put her fingers to her mouth, pondering what to do when the slight puff of her lips revived memories of the night before.
"I had a great time," she said, her back to the door.
"Me, too, luv," Spike replied, his hands thrust into his pockets as he glanced at her sheepishly from under his thick eyelashes. They stayed there for several moments, the silence tangible between them. If he were still a vampire, Spike would have clearly heard Buffy's pounding heart, but as it was, the thrumming of his own heart was too loud for him to discern anything.
Unsure of what to do, Buffy licked her lips nervously and she saw Spike's gaze follow the pink slip of her tongue. She moaned reflexively and the former vampire's eyes widened, surprise and desire clear in the blue haze of his irises.
"Guess I should push off, then," he said hoarsely.
"Yeah, I have to get up for work tomorrow," Buffy supplied and unconsciously took a step towards Spike and he matched her advance.
"Well, then, I'll talk to you soon, Buffy," he whispered, taking another step towards her.
"Yeah, soon," she murmured as her head leaned forward of its own accord. He responded accordingly, leaning forward as well and, before they knew what was happening, their lips were locked in a heated struggle for passion.
Buffy snapped out of the memory, her skin flush from the thought of Spike's lips on her.
"Lips of Spike," she muttered and laughed. She remembered the first time they had kissed, under the influence of Willow's spell. She had been so disgusted at kissing her mortal enemy that, for several days afterwards, she continued to remind him of how horrible it was. Of course, she would never tell him that, at night, she would dream that the spell had never ended and that they had gotten married. Not only that but the things he did to her before and after they were married were…
"Not gonna think about that," she reprimanded herself and purposely busied herself with pulling out more cooking supplies. She couldn't think about that, how good it felt to be in Spike's arms, how right. She didn't want to let any of that cloud her judgment being that the decision was already difficult enough.
"Yep, no physical influences are needed," she said as she pulled the pans out from under the sink. I need to block out all that orgasmy stuff, make my decision based on, on other things, she thought. That's what I'll use this night for, clear my head, think about what feels right for me and go from there. No Garrett or Spike to influence my decision. It'll be great.
Before another thought flashed in her mind, the buzz of the doorbell drew her attention away.
"Who could that be?" she asked and walked to the front door. Her hand wrapped around the handle and before she opened it, she leaned her forehead against it. "Please don't let it be Garrett or Spike. Please don't let it be Garrett or Spike," she beseeched the door gods before opening it.
When she saw who the visitor was, Buffy staggered back in surprise. Well, it's not Garrett or Spike, she thought dryly.
"Hey Buffy," Rachel said and the slayer picked up a hint of--well, of what, she didn't know--in the other woman's voice.
"Hey Rachel," Buffy said a bit too eagerly. "Come on in." She moved to the side to allow the brunette entrance. The click of Rachel's heels sounded through the foyer and Buffy closed the door, turning to the woman.
"Sorry, I didn't call or anything but I, well I'm sorry."
"Oh, it's okay. Not like I was doing anything anyway. Well, except for cooking dinner."
"Oh, cool. So, is Dawn here?"
"Nope, just me, myself and I. Was going to do some experimentation while I have the chance. You know how it is, test the stuff yourself so if it's horrible no one will ever have to know."
"Yeah," Rachel replied and Buffy was warmed by the smile the other woman gave her. "So, you want a test subject?"
Buffy gave the woman a wary look. "Are you sure about that? Cuz, I'm sure Spike or Dawn have told you of my cooking expertise-lessness. I mean, I've gotten much better in the last few years but--well, to be honest, that's not saying much."
"It's okay, Buffy," Rachel laughed. "It's not like I have the title of chef supreme, either."
"Well, just so you know, everything stays between us," the slayer whispered conspiratorially.
"Deal," Rachel replied in the same hushed tone.
"Well, then, follow me," Buffy replied and led her guest into the kitchen. She ignored the tightening in her gut at the woman's presence, attributing it to the surprise of having her solitude interrupted. But as much as she lied to herself about it, her inner Buffy had no trouble identifying the underlying jealousy still present or the tingling in the back of her neck telling her that, after tonight, things would be much clearer.
A/N: Next chapter is mainly Buffy and Rachel. And no, not like that, you sick twisted freaks! LOL. Next update February 7th or 8th, 2003. The end is almost here.