***********************************TRApPeD**********************************
Fourteen: Bestest Buffy Birthday Bash
By Annie
2003-04-03
**************************************************************************** *
Day Seven.
8.54 p.m.
The music was pouring out of the speakers, the cake was half-through eaten and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves royally. So was Buffy. So much had been going on recently that she had come close to forgetting about her own birthday and a party to celebrate it - however uncalled for and extremely surprising as it had been - was exactly what she had needed.
She needed to remember to thank Willow properly later.
She rested her head against Riley's shoulder and smiled contentedly to herself as she looked out over the small crowd of people, all with faces she knew and it was sort of a comfort. She didn't need to shake any hands and listen to layouts of life-stories because she pretty much knew all of them already.
Nineteen.
She didn't feel older.
"Well, my memory of the whole shablam is pretty jumbled up by now," Xander was saying to Riley, "but it's cool to have some knowledge left, you know? Codes and stuff. And..."
Buffy straightened her posture when her eyes caught the shape of a face much TOO familiar and she flashed Riley a smile before she excused herself.
Spike easily parted the crowd as he made his way through it, looking at the humans and practically feeling how their hearts beat in their tries to reach out to him. Tempt him. He was hungry.
"WHAT the hell are you doing here?" her voice hissed as one hand grabbed the arm of his duster in a tight grip and dragged him off, away from the others.
"Slayer!" he exclaimed with fake-excitement. "Wonderful little bash you're having yourself here," he added as they stopped by one of the walls, the rest of the assembled out of hearing range and Riley positioned on the other side of the room. "Do you serve anything for us prone to...?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" she interrupted, her voice harsh and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Not the friendly hostess, are we?" he asked and she gave him a look of warning. "Would you let go of my arm already? Loverboy over there might get the wrong idea..."
Buffy hadn't even realized she was still gripping the leather and she let it go with a hard jerk of her arm, shaking her head at herself and at him - for showing up like this. He sure did choose the absolutely most horrific moments to barge in.
"You're not welcome here," she said, lowering her voice.
He smirked at that.
"I was invited," he replied and her eyes grew.
"I don't believe you."
"Ask Red," he shrugged. "I wasn't planning on coming, of course... But something just felt right about being here...you know?"
She suddenly realized how close they were standing and she took a small step back, glaring up at him with the most overwhelming sense of impatience with him blooming in her chest.
"Go. Away," she demanded and his smirk broadened.
"I haven't even tasted the cake yet," he remarked. "Bet its sweet and full... Bold. Something even I could bloody enjoy."
She clenched her jaws together at the suggestiveness of his gaze as he held hers.
"It's right over there," she then replied with a nod toward the table on which the treat was located. "Eat your heart out," she added, turning from him and walking back across the room to her boyfriend.
Spike watched her, tilting his head a little to the right as he narrowed his eyes.
Why couldn't he get her out of his head? She was a constant bug crawling around, making his thoughts itch. It didn't matter how much he tried to brush her away, she was too stubborn; clad in a shield of all the wheels she had brought in motion within him. He thought his own desire was driving him out of his rightful mind, but there was something else there - a shadow of something that refused to come out into the light. He couldn't force it either and it was unsettling.
Observing her, how happy she looked... something stirred within him at the sight of it.
He swallowed.
It wasn't jealousy. He would never label anything even remotely related to her as that, because it was way too weird a thought. To be jealous, you have to care. And he didn't. He didn't care. All he wanted was to bury himself deep inside of her again, all he wanted was to feel her body pressed against his. Nothing more.
He huffed.
What the bloody hell else is there? he asked himself.
"Spike," Willow's voice was heard before him and he moved his gaze to meet hers. "You came. I didn't think that you would. But you did. So... hi."
He furrowed his brow slightly and she smiled brightly.
"Buffy ask you to get me to leave?" he asked and her smile died.
"Just a little," she replied and he nodded.
"Your mess, your clean-up?" he inquired and she looked apologetic.
"Well, I just kinda happened to MENTION that we were throwing a surprise party, I didn't really formulate it as an official invitation, you know?" she asked back and he smirked.
"You tell that to Buffy?" he wondered.
"Of course," she answered.
"And her response?"
Willow made a rather regretful face before she said:
"My mess, my clean-up."
His smirk widened.
"You know I don't like the lot of you anyway," he stated and Willow nodded. "Best be getting on my merry way then," he added, pushing away from the wall.
"Did you at least taste the cake? It was really yummy," Willow tried to redeem her rudeness - as she saw it - as she walked him toward the exit door.
He turned his head and looked back over at the Slayer, wrapped in the arms of her soldier boy.
"Yeah, I got a little taste," the vampire then replied. "Save me a piece for later, okay?" he added and Willow blinked, rather surprised, not having a chance to reply as he disappeared through the doorway.
Turning her head she rested them in Buffy's. The latter smiled a small smile and Willow returned it, thinking no more of it.
***
11.56 p.m.
Buffy wiped the table, previously hosting the refreshments, with a damp piece of cloth. Leaning over it to reach the far corners as she let her thoughts flow freely.
Why had he come? She couldn't get her head around it. She didn't understand what he thought this constant popping up everywhere was going to accomplish. He couldn't actually believe that she was going to all of a sudden warm to the idea of having him around, she knew even he wasn't that retarded. And... he didn't WANT her to do that. Warm. To the idea. So, what was he doing?
Sure, he wanted her to confess. Confess to the memory of some crazed, surreal, degrading experience that she had just happened to share with him while under a lot of pressure and not a little amount of thinkage toward the whole stuck-forever deal.
So, she had had one second of pure weakness and for some reason she had gone back into some sort of shocked state of wanting something that was...horrendously wrong. It was so wrong it wasn't even within the actual frame of plain, ordinary, gray wrong - this was the black, dark, terrifying sort of wrong that only occurred in nightmares where you woke up with a cold sweat and a heart beating a thousand beats per second and...
She closed her eyes, leaning further forward and resting her upper body against the coolness of the imitated wood.
Why was she fretting over this? Why was she constantly trying to rectify it?
Because you haven't told Riley about it yet, perhaps? a small squeak of a voice piped up in the back of her head and she grumbled.
I can't tell Riley. I can't ever tell anyone. I shouldn't even continue this stupid reminding myself of the fact that it even took place!
She straightened herself into a standing position once more, sighing as she fiddled slightly with the cloth in her hands.
She had told Willow that she would take care of the cleaning up. That she felt like she needed some one-on-one with herself, clear her head. Wind down. Riley had been forced to leave a few hours earlier - something with his alter ego agent Finn... She knew she was falling in love with him. He was funny and handsome and had such a wonderful smile. He knew who she was and he dealt. He was a great kisser and he made her feel...
Two hands slid gently up her bare arms and she drew a small breath at the touch. Closing her eyes at the shivers of anticipating pleasure immediately setting out on a collisions course with every nerve of her body.
"I didn't get a chance to wish you a happy birthday... Slayer."
The words were so low she was unsure whether he was speaking them or thinking them, transferring them into her head by means of silk thread and velvet rope.
Oh, God.
Exhaling she opened her eyes and shook her head, putting the cloth on the table.
"Why would you?" she asked, keeping her voice under control and wondering how she could have missed feeling him approach her, his presence seemed larger than the room could hold and she struggled with the shivers as his fingers gripped her shoulders to move her around and face him.
She looked up at him defiantly, thinking of how very real her disgust with him still was and bringing it forth in spades as she glared at him.
"Why are you here?" she now demanded as he wasn't answering her.
"HERE-here? 'In this room' here?" he asked back and she squirmed out of his hands, taking a step back and putting her hands on either hip - making him raise his eyebrows. "I take it that's your way of saying 'if you don't bloody stop that and tell me what I wanna know I'll bleeding well kick you from here into the fading sunlight'?" he added and she tilted her head to one side meaningfully.
He merely rolled his eyes at her and then reached into the inner pocket of his duster to bring out his smokes. She stared at him and as he brought one out she stepped up to him, grabbed it and threw it to the floor before crushing it beneath one of her heels.
"Been here, done this," he muttered. "You know, that's sodding money you're trampling all over there, sweetheart," he added, the last word hardened with annoyance. "You could just ask me nicely."
She huffed.
"For you to listen I'd have to grovel on my hands and knees," she retorted. "And I'm not the begging kind."
He smirked, holding up the pack of cigarettes before throwing it down on the table.
"A show of good faith, love," he said and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah? Good faith in what - the no smoking rules of the school?" she shot and he chuckled.
"You know, when you put your mind to it you can actually be pretty damn amusing," he stated and her gaze grew darker as she took a step closer to him.
"I want you to leave me alone," she breathed and he blinked.
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head slowly to one side as he looked down at her.
She turned from him with a snarl of irritation and he smirked, leaning against the edge of the table and observing her as she began to pace from side to side before him.
"I don't hear an answer," he pointed out and she stopped to hold his gaze.
"I'll give you twenty reasons. Hell, I'll give you a thousand! Would that be answer enough?!" she exclaimed and his eyebrows rose again.
"Temper, temper, honey-buns," he teased. "But yeah, please, you just start talking and I'll keep count."
"Okay," she nodded. "I have never hated anyone this purely before in my entire life."
"Likewise," he volunteered cheerfully and she glared at him to not interrupt. "That's one," he merely added and she continued:
"You're nothing but this annoying, evil, revolting, soulless, sickening, stubborn, repelling, cocky, insufferable, crazed with needs to rule the world, murdering, good-for-nothing, bleached...leather- wearing...scheming...annoying..."
Spike straightened his posture as she began to trail off, approaching her slowly.
"You already said that," he cut her off and she turned her head to him.
Tilting it back slightly as he stopped right in front of her, she looked into those blue eyes and felt how they were cautiously, but surely, hooking her. She swallowed.
"And - you tend to think that this sudden...lack of...air between us is something that is..."
"Acceptable?" he filled in and she nodded slowly.
"It's really not," she stated and he smirked.
"So move," he encouraged and she knew that she would have to, growing nervous at the thought of stumbling to the ground as her legs proved to be useless as tools of getaway.
Taking a step back she said:
"I think I was at four..."
"You lost, you know," he suddenly said and she felt a rush of ice run down her spine as she instinctively knew to what he was referring.
Putting on a quizzical expression she waited for him to elaborate.
"I'd like to claim my prize sometime in the near future," he continued.
"I haven't even the faintest clue as to..."
"You're not even the slightest bloody curious?" he interrupted softly and she bit her jaws together as he came closer again. "There's no...need...to know?" he asked and the slow purr in the back of his throat made her mouth water with an urge to have his lips...
Oh, dear Lord!
She swirled around and walked up to the table again, grabbing the cloth and turning to him when he followed.
"Stop it," she hissed, at the end of her tether with him, growing fed-up with herself and feeling a subtle confusion rest somewhere in-between.
"What? What am I doing?" he wondered.
"Do you think that just by trying to be your usual, creeping-me-out-'til-my- head-is-spinning, incredibly vermin-y self you're gonna get me to magically remember whatever you dreamed happened during the short extension of time we spent in that boring hole of a basement?!" she wanted to know and he arched his scarred eyebrow with a small smile. "Oh, drop the whole 'you already remember' bit, Spike. It's a pathetic excuse for trying to drive me insane."
His smile widened considerably at those words.
"Ah, so THAT'S what I'm doing," he nodded and she threw the cloth in his face.
He merely laughed at that, getting it off him and tossing it aside.
"I HATE you, you make me sick!" she yelled and he eyed her calmly as he replied:
"Once again with the that-has-already-been-said."
"Get out," she demanded, voice growing cool as she turned from him again.
"You know, I have to bloody compliment you," he now stated, once again coming up to her. "No one's ever been able to resist me this long... Especially not after I've already had them once. Or was it tw-...?"
He was cut off by her hand connecting with his cheek as she slapped him hard.
Her eyes grew as his narrowed with questions. The surprise in her gaze tattled on how unprepared she had been for that reaction from herself, and he blinked as the wonderment slipped through his thoughts.
Then he smiled slightly.
"Oh, you're right," he nodded. "It was a few more times than that."
She bit her jaws together. He took a step closer, leaning forward slightly to speak into her ear and then he whispered:
"Happy birthday."
Without another word from either of them it was his turn to turn from her, and leave her speechless as her hand ached from the task it had performed.
What's wrong with me? she asked herself as she could feel the immediate sense of him fade away with him removing himself from the school grounds. Why do I let him get to me like this, over and over? Why didn't I hit him normally. A good left hook right on the chin, THAT would've been a bit more intimidating - but slapping him like that? What did that show? Nothing but the fact that it was a heat-of-the-moment reaction to the words he was speaking. Like they would matter to me. Like I would care that what I am is just another one...another... It was sex! For crying out loud, it was nothing but sex for the both of us. Why do I feel so... violated by him?
She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs and looking down at her hands.
Sex - sure, it had been that... But it had been more. Because she wasn't one to take to it lightly and that was why it was getting to her. This desire for him still burning deep inside her was unlike anything else and that was why it was getting to her. It had been meaningless, mindless sensuality. But the fact that she had given herself to him, had taken him... THAT wasn't something, once she chose to acknowledged it - as she had in that short moment just now - that she could shrug her shoulders at.
She knew all of the aspects came down to simple fact - there had been NO emotions what so ever involved in their actions that had been related to any kind of stronger affection toward one another.
But sex - no matter how raw - is always about something more. So be it power, be it lust, be it one moment in history where you completely lose your head and can't hold a deeper urge down - it was still that force of needing to be close, be joined, be one with another that...
Oh, I can't think like this, she interrupted her attempt at rationalization, getting to her feet.
Still the soft feel of his hands sliding up her arms, the closeness of him as he stepped into her from behind - it was more than she could shake.
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I hope, hope, hope that you enjoyed that! *smile* I'm having sucha great time writing this and a great part of it is hearing from you so once again and as always thank you so much for great reviews!
Special, delicious, chocolate covered, pancake wrapped thanks to hmm..., Johanna, Captain, Renee', LizDarcy, wolf116, Kamla, Pine and Rose! Thanks so much for positive feedback and continuing support!
I know this chapter is earlier than usual, but I just thought you guys really deserved that! ;) Thanks a lot to all of you reading!
Please - send me a treat! ;P
A.M.L, Annie.
Fourteen: Bestest Buffy Birthday Bash
By Annie
2003-04-03
**************************************************************************** *
Day Seven.
8.54 p.m.
The music was pouring out of the speakers, the cake was half-through eaten and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves royally. So was Buffy. So much had been going on recently that she had come close to forgetting about her own birthday and a party to celebrate it - however uncalled for and extremely surprising as it had been - was exactly what she had needed.
She needed to remember to thank Willow properly later.
She rested her head against Riley's shoulder and smiled contentedly to herself as she looked out over the small crowd of people, all with faces she knew and it was sort of a comfort. She didn't need to shake any hands and listen to layouts of life-stories because she pretty much knew all of them already.
Nineteen.
She didn't feel older.
"Well, my memory of the whole shablam is pretty jumbled up by now," Xander was saying to Riley, "but it's cool to have some knowledge left, you know? Codes and stuff. And..."
Buffy straightened her posture when her eyes caught the shape of a face much TOO familiar and she flashed Riley a smile before she excused herself.
Spike easily parted the crowd as he made his way through it, looking at the humans and practically feeling how their hearts beat in their tries to reach out to him. Tempt him. He was hungry.
"WHAT the hell are you doing here?" her voice hissed as one hand grabbed the arm of his duster in a tight grip and dragged him off, away from the others.
"Slayer!" he exclaimed with fake-excitement. "Wonderful little bash you're having yourself here," he added as they stopped by one of the walls, the rest of the assembled out of hearing range and Riley positioned on the other side of the room. "Do you serve anything for us prone to...?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" she interrupted, her voice harsh and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Not the friendly hostess, are we?" he asked and she gave him a look of warning. "Would you let go of my arm already? Loverboy over there might get the wrong idea..."
Buffy hadn't even realized she was still gripping the leather and she let it go with a hard jerk of her arm, shaking her head at herself and at him - for showing up like this. He sure did choose the absolutely most horrific moments to barge in.
"You're not welcome here," she said, lowering her voice.
He smirked at that.
"I was invited," he replied and her eyes grew.
"I don't believe you."
"Ask Red," he shrugged. "I wasn't planning on coming, of course... But something just felt right about being here...you know?"
She suddenly realized how close they were standing and she took a small step back, glaring up at him with the most overwhelming sense of impatience with him blooming in her chest.
"Go. Away," she demanded and his smirk broadened.
"I haven't even tasted the cake yet," he remarked. "Bet its sweet and full... Bold. Something even I could bloody enjoy."
She clenched her jaws together at the suggestiveness of his gaze as he held hers.
"It's right over there," she then replied with a nod toward the table on which the treat was located. "Eat your heart out," she added, turning from him and walking back across the room to her boyfriend.
Spike watched her, tilting his head a little to the right as he narrowed his eyes.
Why couldn't he get her out of his head? She was a constant bug crawling around, making his thoughts itch. It didn't matter how much he tried to brush her away, she was too stubborn; clad in a shield of all the wheels she had brought in motion within him. He thought his own desire was driving him out of his rightful mind, but there was something else there - a shadow of something that refused to come out into the light. He couldn't force it either and it was unsettling.
Observing her, how happy she looked... something stirred within him at the sight of it.
He swallowed.
It wasn't jealousy. He would never label anything even remotely related to her as that, because it was way too weird a thought. To be jealous, you have to care. And he didn't. He didn't care. All he wanted was to bury himself deep inside of her again, all he wanted was to feel her body pressed against his. Nothing more.
He huffed.
What the bloody hell else is there? he asked himself.
"Spike," Willow's voice was heard before him and he moved his gaze to meet hers. "You came. I didn't think that you would. But you did. So... hi."
He furrowed his brow slightly and she smiled brightly.
"Buffy ask you to get me to leave?" he asked and her smile died.
"Just a little," she replied and he nodded.
"Your mess, your clean-up?" he inquired and she looked apologetic.
"Well, I just kinda happened to MENTION that we were throwing a surprise party, I didn't really formulate it as an official invitation, you know?" she asked back and he smirked.
"You tell that to Buffy?" he wondered.
"Of course," she answered.
"And her response?"
Willow made a rather regretful face before she said:
"My mess, my clean-up."
His smirk widened.
"You know I don't like the lot of you anyway," he stated and Willow nodded. "Best be getting on my merry way then," he added, pushing away from the wall.
"Did you at least taste the cake? It was really yummy," Willow tried to redeem her rudeness - as she saw it - as she walked him toward the exit door.
He turned his head and looked back over at the Slayer, wrapped in the arms of her soldier boy.
"Yeah, I got a little taste," the vampire then replied. "Save me a piece for later, okay?" he added and Willow blinked, rather surprised, not having a chance to reply as he disappeared through the doorway.
Turning her head she rested them in Buffy's. The latter smiled a small smile and Willow returned it, thinking no more of it.
***
11.56 p.m.
Buffy wiped the table, previously hosting the refreshments, with a damp piece of cloth. Leaning over it to reach the far corners as she let her thoughts flow freely.
Why had he come? She couldn't get her head around it. She didn't understand what he thought this constant popping up everywhere was going to accomplish. He couldn't actually believe that she was going to all of a sudden warm to the idea of having him around, she knew even he wasn't that retarded. And... he didn't WANT her to do that. Warm. To the idea. So, what was he doing?
Sure, he wanted her to confess. Confess to the memory of some crazed, surreal, degrading experience that she had just happened to share with him while under a lot of pressure and not a little amount of thinkage toward the whole stuck-forever deal.
So, she had had one second of pure weakness and for some reason she had gone back into some sort of shocked state of wanting something that was...horrendously wrong. It was so wrong it wasn't even within the actual frame of plain, ordinary, gray wrong - this was the black, dark, terrifying sort of wrong that only occurred in nightmares where you woke up with a cold sweat and a heart beating a thousand beats per second and...
She closed her eyes, leaning further forward and resting her upper body against the coolness of the imitated wood.
Why was she fretting over this? Why was she constantly trying to rectify it?
Because you haven't told Riley about it yet, perhaps? a small squeak of a voice piped up in the back of her head and she grumbled.
I can't tell Riley. I can't ever tell anyone. I shouldn't even continue this stupid reminding myself of the fact that it even took place!
She straightened herself into a standing position once more, sighing as she fiddled slightly with the cloth in her hands.
She had told Willow that she would take care of the cleaning up. That she felt like she needed some one-on-one with herself, clear her head. Wind down. Riley had been forced to leave a few hours earlier - something with his alter ego agent Finn... She knew she was falling in love with him. He was funny and handsome and had such a wonderful smile. He knew who she was and he dealt. He was a great kisser and he made her feel...
Two hands slid gently up her bare arms and she drew a small breath at the touch. Closing her eyes at the shivers of anticipating pleasure immediately setting out on a collisions course with every nerve of her body.
"I didn't get a chance to wish you a happy birthday... Slayer."
The words were so low she was unsure whether he was speaking them or thinking them, transferring them into her head by means of silk thread and velvet rope.
Oh, God.
Exhaling she opened her eyes and shook her head, putting the cloth on the table.
"Why would you?" she asked, keeping her voice under control and wondering how she could have missed feeling him approach her, his presence seemed larger than the room could hold and she struggled with the shivers as his fingers gripped her shoulders to move her around and face him.
She looked up at him defiantly, thinking of how very real her disgust with him still was and bringing it forth in spades as she glared at him.
"Why are you here?" she now demanded as he wasn't answering her.
"HERE-here? 'In this room' here?" he asked back and she squirmed out of his hands, taking a step back and putting her hands on either hip - making him raise his eyebrows. "I take it that's your way of saying 'if you don't bloody stop that and tell me what I wanna know I'll bleeding well kick you from here into the fading sunlight'?" he added and she tilted her head to one side meaningfully.
He merely rolled his eyes at her and then reached into the inner pocket of his duster to bring out his smokes. She stared at him and as he brought one out she stepped up to him, grabbed it and threw it to the floor before crushing it beneath one of her heels.
"Been here, done this," he muttered. "You know, that's sodding money you're trampling all over there, sweetheart," he added, the last word hardened with annoyance. "You could just ask me nicely."
She huffed.
"For you to listen I'd have to grovel on my hands and knees," she retorted. "And I'm not the begging kind."
He smirked, holding up the pack of cigarettes before throwing it down on the table.
"A show of good faith, love," he said and she cocked an eyebrow.
"Yeah? Good faith in what - the no smoking rules of the school?" she shot and he chuckled.
"You know, when you put your mind to it you can actually be pretty damn amusing," he stated and her gaze grew darker as she took a step closer to him.
"I want you to leave me alone," she breathed and he blinked.
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head slowly to one side as he looked down at her.
She turned from him with a snarl of irritation and he smirked, leaning against the edge of the table and observing her as she began to pace from side to side before him.
"I don't hear an answer," he pointed out and she stopped to hold his gaze.
"I'll give you twenty reasons. Hell, I'll give you a thousand! Would that be answer enough?!" she exclaimed and his eyebrows rose again.
"Temper, temper, honey-buns," he teased. "But yeah, please, you just start talking and I'll keep count."
"Okay," she nodded. "I have never hated anyone this purely before in my entire life."
"Likewise," he volunteered cheerfully and she glared at him to not interrupt. "That's one," he merely added and she continued:
"You're nothing but this annoying, evil, revolting, soulless, sickening, stubborn, repelling, cocky, insufferable, crazed with needs to rule the world, murdering, good-for-nothing, bleached...leather- wearing...scheming...annoying..."
Spike straightened his posture as she began to trail off, approaching her slowly.
"You already said that," he cut her off and she turned her head to him.
Tilting it back slightly as he stopped right in front of her, she looked into those blue eyes and felt how they were cautiously, but surely, hooking her. She swallowed.
"And - you tend to think that this sudden...lack of...air between us is something that is..."
"Acceptable?" he filled in and she nodded slowly.
"It's really not," she stated and he smirked.
"So move," he encouraged and she knew that she would have to, growing nervous at the thought of stumbling to the ground as her legs proved to be useless as tools of getaway.
Taking a step back she said:
"I think I was at four..."
"You lost, you know," he suddenly said and she felt a rush of ice run down her spine as she instinctively knew to what he was referring.
Putting on a quizzical expression she waited for him to elaborate.
"I'd like to claim my prize sometime in the near future," he continued.
"I haven't even the faintest clue as to..."
"You're not even the slightest bloody curious?" he interrupted softly and she bit her jaws together as he came closer again. "There's no...need...to know?" he asked and the slow purr in the back of his throat made her mouth water with an urge to have his lips...
Oh, dear Lord!
She swirled around and walked up to the table again, grabbing the cloth and turning to him when he followed.
"Stop it," she hissed, at the end of her tether with him, growing fed-up with herself and feeling a subtle confusion rest somewhere in-between.
"What? What am I doing?" he wondered.
"Do you think that just by trying to be your usual, creeping-me-out-'til-my- head-is-spinning, incredibly vermin-y self you're gonna get me to magically remember whatever you dreamed happened during the short extension of time we spent in that boring hole of a basement?!" she wanted to know and he arched his scarred eyebrow with a small smile. "Oh, drop the whole 'you already remember' bit, Spike. It's a pathetic excuse for trying to drive me insane."
His smile widened considerably at those words.
"Ah, so THAT'S what I'm doing," he nodded and she threw the cloth in his face.
He merely laughed at that, getting it off him and tossing it aside.
"I HATE you, you make me sick!" she yelled and he eyed her calmly as he replied:
"Once again with the that-has-already-been-said."
"Get out," she demanded, voice growing cool as she turned from him again.
"You know, I have to bloody compliment you," he now stated, once again coming up to her. "No one's ever been able to resist me this long... Especially not after I've already had them once. Or was it tw-...?"
He was cut off by her hand connecting with his cheek as she slapped him hard.
Her eyes grew as his narrowed with questions. The surprise in her gaze tattled on how unprepared she had been for that reaction from herself, and he blinked as the wonderment slipped through his thoughts.
Then he smiled slightly.
"Oh, you're right," he nodded. "It was a few more times than that."
She bit her jaws together. He took a step closer, leaning forward slightly to speak into her ear and then he whispered:
"Happy birthday."
Without another word from either of them it was his turn to turn from her, and leave her speechless as her hand ached from the task it had performed.
What's wrong with me? she asked herself as she could feel the immediate sense of him fade away with him removing himself from the school grounds. Why do I let him get to me like this, over and over? Why didn't I hit him normally. A good left hook right on the chin, THAT would've been a bit more intimidating - but slapping him like that? What did that show? Nothing but the fact that it was a heat-of-the-moment reaction to the words he was speaking. Like they would matter to me. Like I would care that what I am is just another one...another... It was sex! For crying out loud, it was nothing but sex for the both of us. Why do I feel so... violated by him?
She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs and looking down at her hands.
Sex - sure, it had been that... But it had been more. Because she wasn't one to take to it lightly and that was why it was getting to her. This desire for him still burning deep inside her was unlike anything else and that was why it was getting to her. It had been meaningless, mindless sensuality. But the fact that she had given herself to him, had taken him... THAT wasn't something, once she chose to acknowledged it - as she had in that short moment just now - that she could shrug her shoulders at.
She knew all of the aspects came down to simple fact - there had been NO emotions what so ever involved in their actions that had been related to any kind of stronger affection toward one another.
But sex - no matter how raw - is always about something more. So be it power, be it lust, be it one moment in history where you completely lose your head and can't hold a deeper urge down - it was still that force of needing to be close, be joined, be one with another that...
Oh, I can't think like this, she interrupted her attempt at rationalization, getting to her feet.
Still the soft feel of his hands sliding up her arms, the closeness of him as he stepped into her from behind - it was more than she could shake.
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I hope, hope, hope that you enjoyed that! *smile* I'm having sucha great time writing this and a great part of it is hearing from you so once again and as always thank you so much for great reviews!
Special, delicious, chocolate covered, pancake wrapped thanks to hmm..., Johanna, Captain, Renee', LizDarcy, wolf116, Kamla, Pine and Rose! Thanks so much for positive feedback and continuing support!
I know this chapter is earlier than usual, but I just thought you guys really deserved that! ;) Thanks a lot to all of you reading!
Please - send me a treat! ;P
A.M.L, Annie.