Chapter 29
"Cut and bleach? Or just cut?"
"Whatever you want," Spike answered.
"It's your hair, Spike, you decide."
He shrugged, "It's not like I can see it."
Buffy tilted her head and examined him, "I like your natural color. Why did you dye it?"
Spike smiled. "You know, I don't even remember."
"Because of Dru?" Buffy asked.
He shook his head, "No, she didn't really care. I guess it doesn't really matter if you dye it or not."
"How short do you want it?"
Spike grimaced, "I hate these curls."
"Really? I think they're adorable."
"They're a bloody pain in the ass, is what they are."
"I don't like your hair plastered to your head."
"Well, it's hard to be the Big Bad if I look like a fluffy puppy."
Buffy laughed, "Yeah, I guess so. How about a trim? It's a good thing vampire hair doesn't grow as fast as uh…human hair. It'd be down past your ass by now otherwise."
It was Spike's turn to laugh. "That's quite the image, Slayer."
She frowned and continued to study his head. "Ok, how am I going to do this?"
"You have cut hair before, right?"
"Oh! Of course! Once, I cut Xander's."
Spike blinked, "You once cut Xander's? Is that all of your experience?"
"Of course not! When I was a kid, I had the Barbie with long hair. You know the one you could cut and it would grow…" She tapered off at his aghast look. "What?"
"All of a sudden, I'm thinking this isn't such a good idea."
"Come on Spike, it's not like you have a choice."
"I can go to a barbershop or something. You know, with people who actually know how to cut hair."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "The lack of reflection might cause a slight problem for you. Now come on, you're being a coward."
"I'm not a coward just because I don't want some mad woman attacking my head with scissors!" He said this with a smile though, and Buffy knew he was teasing.
"Stop being such a big baby. Now hold still. Don't worry, it's just a trim."
Several minutes passed in silence as Buffy worked diligently, a look of intense concentration on her face. Spike longed to see his reflection as thousands of horrible images filled his head. Spike would never admit it, not even to himself, but he was terribly vain and the thought of an uneven haircut was almost enough to make him panic.
Drusilla used to cut his hair, and that was always an interestingly terrifying experience. He couldn't deny her though, and when she asked for the scissors, he just braced himself and prayed to whoever watched over errant vampires that she would avoid stabbing him in the eye or cutting off his ear. The outcome of his hair was literally the least of his worries when Dru was armed with sharp weapons.
Spike was pulled from his reverie by Buffy's small gasp and nearly silent "Uh oh."
"What?" Spike demanded.
"Oh, it's nothing," Buffy said, too lightly. "Nothing at all, everything is fine."
"And somehow, I don't believe you."
"I'm sure we can figure out a way to cover it up."
"Cover what up?"
Buffy avoided the question. "How fast can your hair grow?"
Spike rolled his eyes, and then bolted from the bathroom. "Dawn! Niblet!"
Dawn came running up the stairs. "What? What's wrong? Hey, what happened to your hair?"
"Buffy happened," Spike answered. "How's it look?"
Dawn walked around him, hemming and hawing as she examined her sister's handiwork. "Looks fine to me."
"Really?" Spike asked skeptically.
"He doesn't have a sense of humor," Buffy said from behind him. "I was just joking a little."
"Don't joke about my hair."
Dawn rolled her eyes, "I'm surprised you let her get that close to you with
scissors."
"Me too," Spike muttered.
"Oh come on, I'm not that bad," Buffy protested.
Spike plucked the scissors from her hand, "Looks like you can use a hair cut too Slayer."
She backed up, her eyes wide, "No my hair is fine, thank you."
"You think so? It looks like you've got split ends to me."
Buffy paused, "Really? Wait, you're not tricking me." She ran down the hallway to her room, Spike hot on her heals, brandishing the scissors like a mad man.
"Come on Slayer, I know what I'm doing! You can trust me!"
She laughed, "Not with sharp tools I can't." She reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her, but Spike was only a step behind, and used his leg to block the door.
"Ow," he howled, "that hurt!"
"Well then you shouldn't chase me!" Buffy yelled over her shoulder as she moved towards the safety of the bathroom where she could lock the door.
But she didn't move fast enough. Spike caught her arm and threw her on the bed.
She laughed and struggled against him, both of them knowing that Spike didn't
really have the upper hand. He pushed
her on the bed and held her down with his body.
"Now hold still, Buffy, this won't hurt a bit."
She squirmed under him, her soft body grinding into his crotch, and his cock instantly responded. They both froze. There was no mistaking Spike's reaction and then Buffy's response. It occurred to Spike that the best thing he could do is stand up and calmly leave. He didn't want to go down this road again.
Why not? A voice asked in the back of his head. He didn't have an answer, though. It would be so very easy to kiss her like…this…
She instantly opened his mouth under his, and eagerly kissed him back. Spike knew that if he kept kissing her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He was addicted to her taste and her scent, the soft feel of her lips, the curve of her thighs, the sweet sounds she made in the back of her throat, and he hadn't had a fix in ten years.
He still loved her, and he was beginning to believe that she still…
~*~
…loves me, Spike thought desperately, she loves me and I'll show her.
I'll take care of her. I'll be worthy of her.
"Why are you here?" The demon demanded. He lurked in the shadows, and Spike strained to get a good look at him.
"For her," Spike finally answered, for the fourth time. After each trial, the demon asked the same question, and Spike gave the same answer. But each time, the response was weaker. Now it seemed he was losing all conviction. The demon sensed it too.
"Very well. Now you must…"
"Wait, wait," Spike interrupted, "There's more?"
"Yes." It pointed to the wall over Spike's shoulder and he turned around.
"Well…fuck."
~*~
The kiss deepened, and Spike shifted slightly so he could cup her breast with one hand, a thumb rubbing her nipple in a tight, circular motion. She moaned and ran her hand under his shirt, caressing his skin until the muscles jumped and quivered under her hand.
The passion and desire built between them until they could almost taste it, touch it. The air was heavy with the sounds and scent of their lust, and with each passing minute, they became more frantic.
They begin ripping and pawing at each other's clothes; suddenly the most important thing was to feel flesh on flesh, flushed skin against skin. Spike was losing control, and he knew it. If he wanted to have a semblance of control, he would have to stop…
~*~
"…now?" The demon asked.
"For her," Spike answered, but his voice was as hollow as the answer.
"Is she worth all of this, vampire?"
Spike nodded. But he no longer believed it. Somehow he was beginning to understand that this didn't matter. That whatever problems she had, it didn't have anything to do with him or his lack of soul. This was wrong, vampires weren't supposed to have souls. He wasn't giving up, but suddenly he doubted his reasons and motives, and himself.
"For her," he repeated.
"Very well."
Spike turned around to see his next trial, and rolled his eyes. Would this
never end?
~*~
The clothes were in rags and tatters on the floor. The time to stop had passed. Neither one of the could stop if their lives depended on it. Spike could distantly hear the people downstairs, eating and resting, talking about what Buffy had told them about Joyce. Outside a car backfired, and a dog barked angrily. Spike registered every single sight and sound and stored it, to be called forth later when reliving this moment over and over.
Buffy's body was slightly different than he remembered. Older, not quite so lean. She had gained a bit of way and was nicely rounded. Her breasts were fuller, her tummy softer. He knew that he would have to take time to explore every square inch of her, reacquaint himself with the delightful perfection that was Buffy Summers.
He still had reservations, but they didn't matter. He needed to be inside of her again, apart of her again, and he needed it more than he ever needed anything before. By the look in Buffy's eyes, it seemed clear that she needed him too.
"Now," she gasped, "Need you…"
~*~
"…now?" The demon asked.
Spike raised his chin defiantly. "No, I do not give up now. I won't. I came here for something, and I'll be damned if I leave without it."
"You're already damned Vampire," the demon commented. "Why are you doing this?"
"For her."
"I don't believe that and neither do you. Very well, you can have your soul, but you have one more trial."
"What?" Spike asked, even as the demon placed its hand on his chest and a blinding hot light suffused his body, coming out of his mouth and eyes, and a scream tore from his chest and the blinding pain paralyzed his body and he dropped to his knees. Over the sound of the pain and the blood and the screams her heard the demons say one word:
"Her."
~*~
Spike entered her before he could change his mind, and they both half moaned, half screamed in unison. All conscious thought fled both their minds as he moved within her. Buffy was unable to control herself, and with each thrust, she got louder. Moans, screams, shrieks of pleasure spilled out of her mouth into Spike's ears. He couldn't help but echo her.
They were both suffused in the white-hot light of passion, pleasure and gratification radiating through their bodies, and all Spike could think was Never again, never leaving her again, love her, love her, loveherlovelovelovelove. Buffy couldn't think at all.
Finally, their world exploded and they were left grasping each other like a life-line. Spike came just a the shocking waves of pleasure rolled through Buffy's body, making her scream his name until her voice was hoarse and there was no strength left in her body.
They collapsed, exhausted. Their muscles were watery, and neither could move. A huge smile spread across Buffy's face. Oh, had she missed this. She wrapped her arms around him, loath to lose any contact with him at all.
"Love you so much," she mumbled before drifting off to a contented sleep. "Love…
~*~
…you so much, Buffy wrote, alone and abandoned in a small room where she wouldn't be a danger to herself or others. I'm so sorry Spike. So sorry. Please come home.
"What's she doing?" Giles asked the doctor.
"She writes letter when she's by herself," she explained.
"Have you read them?"
"She shared a few at her last session."
"And?" Giles asked.
The doctor shrugged, "And, she's got a lot of issues to work through."
