***********************************TRApPeD**********************************
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Twenty-Nine: Let There Be Light
By Annie
2003-05-09
**************************************************************************** *****
Day Twenty-Seven.
7.35 a.m.
Spike let the index finger and middle finger of his right hand trail the small cavity leading from the base of her ribcage to her bellybutton. Circling the latter slowly he directed his gaze on her face. Her eyes were closed. Something he didn't dare see as a smile curled either corner of her luscious mouth and as always he couldn't resist leaning forward, placing a kiss in the corner closest to him - which happened to be the right.
Buffy turned her head to him, parted her lips and kissed him back cautiously, deepening it in a dragged out way that - during the past eighteen hours she had learned - drove him close to insanity. She smiled, still kissing him, as his fingers slipped to grasp her waist, his tongue growing demanding which let her know just how easily she got to him. She relished in this kind of control over him; she never would have thought that she could make him the way she actually kept making him.
Powerless...
Not that she had developed any sort of defense against HIM in turn, not even close. He reeled her in as easy as one glance was, but the way he made her feel - as though she for the first time was fully in her body and experienced it with him - had her unable to feel any regret.
She had come to him because of this, because the bond of passion and pleasure tentatively forming between them was undeniable; and also, she had to admit it, because she had been curious. Where would it lead? How long would it take for it to snap, or disperse? Why was it even able to exist in the first place?
No, she didn't want to feel relaxed around him. She didn't want to look at him and have the need to reach out one hand and slide it over his muscular torso, one of his biceps, or through those bleached curls of his be simply too great to suppress. She didn't want to want him... but the fact remained that she did.
Having him touching her sent the strangest calm through her, and she kept lying to herself that it didn't, but she understood that she wouldn't be able to do so forever. The warmth in his eyes kept reaching out to spread into her, through her; and she couldn't fight the way he made her feel when his touches were as gentle as they had been for the past three hours. He made her feel desired, but most of all he made her feel beautiful.
He kept looking at her in something close to awe, and she couldn't tell the origin of it. His gaze was tender as it stroked her skin in the same manner as his hands did and the question "why" seemed very eligible in the context.
Though the night prior to this one had held its share of surprises on the sex front; his slow kisses and his careful eagerness had been very different from how he had acted in the basement. Then it had been about owning, about breaking her down, about proving her wrong. The night prior had not been.
And the afternoon, evening, night and early morning she had spent with him; in his arms, underneath, on top, breathing or barely able to... those hours had proven to her what she had suspected all along - that as a lover he was attentive. Sure, it had been rough at times - but in a good way. In an exciting way. And to, in the following moment, be reduced into excruciating slowness.
He ruled her; he broke her down so easily.
How could she battle him with her hands when the feel of his cool skin made her ache, had her trembling? How could she win when such a big part of her was dying to lose, and let him conquer her to the very last cell of her?
She couldn't - could she?
She opened her eyes before pulling her face an inch away from his, waiting until he reluctantly eased his eyes open as well. Then a small smile, which he couldn't take as anything else, formed on her lips and he returned it hesitantly. There had been a few of those, though the long glances she gave him so filled with clear desire were less scarce, and he admitted to enjoying those just one notch below how incredible the way she was looking at him right now made him feel.
Somewhere, deep down there in the green, lay those somedays and what ifs and maybes and when she rested her eyes in his like that - then she could see. She couldn't help but see.
They hadn't spoken one word in four hours.
During that time their bodies and senses had had the most powerful and intimate conversation to which they had ever been the humble subjects to; and so words were deemed unnecessary.
Though neither one of them had any concept of time, of course. They could tell it somewhat by the sun setting, shadows spreading to give way for pure darkness and the need for candlelight. And then the candles slow burning down to melt into sad heaps of white, cream and crimson. Soon after that the shadows were on the run, chased by building light and gradually the crypt let scattered rays grace its floor through tattered windowpanes.
Now the morning was gracing the atmosphere and Buffy suddenly shuddered, the chill claiming her as it ran its fingers up her back.
"Cold?" he broke the silence and she smiled again.
He swallowed, feeling all thumbs at how to act now. Where to go from there.
Then she slid one hand up behind his neck, propping herself up on one elbow before she moved her body closer to his.
He swallowed harder.
Her lips gently graced his and a jolt went through him, his heart beating for a second before her face moved to nestle against the side of his throat, her hand gliding down from his neck and over his back as she pressed herself to him. He let one hand bury itself in her locks as he held her close, closing his eyes and feeling truly blessed that he was granted this moment.
"No," she murmured; lips to the side of his throat and he drew a small breath at the sensation. "Okay, so maybe a little," she then added and he chuckled quietly as she pulled her head back to look up at him again.
She smiled wider at the sight of the unmasked enjoyment on his features, and the expression merely widened as he seemed to grow self-conscious.
"What's so bloody amusing?" he finally muttered and she giggled, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and then kissing him on the mouth softly.
"I thought you'd have some snazzy comeback like 'Let's see if I can't bloody warm you up', or 'Come here and I'll make you all warm and snug', or..."
"Okay," he interrupted, not able to hold back a smile as well. "Sorry I disappointed," he then added and she cocked an eyebrow.
She moved her head forward and this time she caught his lower lip between the both of hers, her tongue running over it before she kissed him deeply. He let hear a muffled moan as he kissed her back, rolling her over and sliding into place between her thighs.
"Apology not accepted," she mumbled and he smirked, letting his mouth travel down the side of her throat. "You'll have to find another way to..." she added, trailing off as he moved his hips forward and slowly entered her.
"Warm you up?" he asked and she smiled distractedly, nodding.
"Make me snug," she murmured and his smirk broadened as he began to take, and give.
***
8.16 a.m.
"Hungry?" he wondered and she turned her head to him where she lay beside him.
Then she groaned.
"Yes!" she confirmed. "You shouldn't have said anything, though," she added as she watched him sit up and move his legs to the side of the sarcophagus. He gave her a questioning glance over one shoulder and she raised her eyebrows. "Well, you haven't got anything human friendly in here, have you?" she remarked and he smirked.
Then he rose to his feet, turned to her and made a small, theatrical bow before he raised one finger and prayed her patience. Once that was done he practically - but not quite - removed himself from sight as he walked into the small resemblance of a kitchen at the far end of his abode, beginning to open cabinets and the small fridge. Buffy furrowed her brow, wondering what he was up to. Turning herself around she placed herself on her belly to better be able to keep some sort of eye on his on-goings.
Soon enough he re-emerged with a tray in his hands and her eyebrows shot up again.
"You are full of surprises," she said as he put the object down before her and she sat up, eyeing the bread, fruit, the tall glass of milk and a stash of...
"Marshmallows?" she asked, looking up at him and he smiled, grabbing one and throwing it into the air in a perfect aim at his mouth, chewing it as he answered:
"Can't get enough of 'em."
She smiled as well, finding it coming easy this time, and then she nearly blushed before removing her gaze from his. Reaching out her hand she grabbed the nearby lying sheet and pulled it into her lap to cover herself up slightly. She had suddenly felt so bare before him.
So, he likes marshmallows! What's the big deal?!
Clearing her throat she took a grape and brought it to her lips, biting into it. Spike watched her and then arched one eyebrow.
"Hungry, eh?" he then remarked and she smiled again, putting the whole thing in her mouth. "Atta girl," he commended, having her merely wrinkle her nose at him as a reply.
He took a seat facing her, grabbing a fist's worth of marshmallows as well as the cup of blood he had prepared for himself. Buffy watched him closely in something resembling abhor as she anticipated him to blend the candy in with the food. He didn't, merely gobbled some up before taking a mouthful of the thick liquid and she let out the air she had been holding, making him look at her. She shrugged dismissively, taking a piece of the bread and beginning to chew on it thoughtfully as she rested her gaze in his.
"Guess you didn't have this problem with Dru, huh?" she asked and he choked on the blood he had just been swallowing at the mention of his ex as well as the casual way in which it had been delivered. "Well, I mean... You didn't have to buy - oh, pardon me - steal food to keep around at the chance of her dropping by," the Slayer added innocently and now he smirked.
"For your well-needed information, love," he then stated, "none of that was brought here for YOUR sake."
"Oh, really?" she asked and he nodded firmly. "Got any other little mortal lovers stashed below?" she wondered, reaching out a hand as she spoke and trailing it up his right arm.
"I think it's pretty sodding safe to say that no matter what we may be - we're NOT 'lovers'," he shot and she removed her hand with a sinking feeling in her chest which she managed to ignore completely before she gave a small shrug.
"So... you eat this stuff?" she wondered, gesturing to the tray and he smiled again.
"Sure I eat it, if I'm in the mood," he replied and she returned the smile.
"How normal of you," she said and the smile turned into a smirk. "I know, I know," she then sighed. "Whatever the two of us may be it sure as hell ain't 'normal'," she finished and he laughed at that, nodding.
"Ain't it the sad truth?" he asked and they both grew serious.
Buffy wasn't sure what to say next. Spike really wasn't either.
"You and Dru," she tried the subject again, having his eyes in hers immediately. "I guess you had some pretty wild times, huh?" she added and he smiled widely. "Ugh, I shouldn't have asked," she shuddered.
"Then why did you?" he inquired and she shrank underneath his searching gaze until she managed to get out:
"I hope I'm not missing anything important at school... Studying is sucha drag. If I have to make up for info lost then..." she was interrupted by him leaning forward and kissing her on the lips. "I'm not sure how to make the time," she finished her sentence, eyes still closed as he sat back again.
Then she opened them and looked at him in silence for a few moments before she shook her head.
"What are we doing?" she asked him and he tilted his head a little to one side.
Then he threw himself forward and tilted her back, making her giggle loudly as she fought to get lose. Though this time he pinned her down and she looked up at him as he let his face hover above hers. Kissing the tip of her nose, then her forehead and last her lips he then smiled.
"Wanna ask me again?" he wondered silently and she smiled widely, returning the kiss he then gave her before he placed himself by her side and she moved to place her head on his chest.
They were quiet for a little while, both content in that and both too comfortable to ponder any further on their comfort. And then he opened his big mouth as he asked:
"What does the Captain think about all this?" He felt how she grew stiff against him, but he couldn't shut himself up now; this had been on his mind to and fro and he needed to hear what she had to say. "Don't you think taking off time from your busy love-dee-love schedule to come spend it with me might make him..." She slowly sat up and he turned his head to look at her as she ran one hand through her locks, getting them out of her face. "...miss you," he then finished his sentence and she shook her head a little before crawling to the edge of the sarcophagus and removing herself from it, standing on both legs she said:
"I have to go."
She wasn't looking at him, and he bit his jaws together in growing defeat as he watched her walk into the room, gathering up her clothes as she went and then going up to the armchair to begin to dress. He scooted to the side of the sculpted stone as well, getting to his feet and approaching her as she pulled her sweater over her head.
"You understand I bloody had to ask, don't you?" he wondered and she shook her head again before she turned to face him, her expression suddenly distant and cold.
She was pushing him away with her gaze and he stopped five feet from her as he read the storm going on within her. What was she so scared of? He couldn't understand why she acted so cornered.
"Look, what goes on between Riley and me is none of your business," she stated and he blinked, reaching down and grabbing his pants lying on the floor, tugging them on and jumping into them he buttoned them with rather angered movements before he rested his eyes in hers once more.
"Sleeping with me for nearly one bloody day straight and it's 'none of my business'?!" he exclaimed.
"Like you said, Spike: we're not 'lovers'; so why the hell should I tell you anything? Apart from the right directions, that is," she shot and he stared at her before he replied coolly:
"I don't think you EVER needed to do that, love."
She ground her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest as she struggled to collect herself.
"I have to go," she then repeated, turning and walking up to the door.
"Buffy," he stopped her and she drew a rather shaky breath as she closed her eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say with her back still to him. "You're just gonna leave?"
"Yes," she answered him, turning partially to him and holding his gaze firmly.
"Just like that?"
She looked at him and felt like her heart was breaking into two pieces as two sides of her struggled for recognition. She knew she couldn't stay, she had completely gone too far with this already; she had forgotten about everything that waited outside. She couldn't let herself do that anymore, she had to take control... but, God, how she didn't want to go.
"Yeah," she now replied. "Just like that."
"Wear and tear?" he murmured and she swallowed.
"I can't do this right now," she merely replied and he halted her second attempt at exiting as he yelled:
"No, you just do ME, don't you?!"
She gave him a sharp glare at that.
"I haven't heard any complaints so far, why start now?" she retorted and his eyebrows rose.
"'Cause you're just about out the sodding door, that's why!" he then raised his voice again and she bit her jaws together hard as she met his furious gaze.
"And what is this to you?" she shot. "What am I to you, Spike? You're milking this situation for every last drabble and I'd bet you anything I can tell you why." He gave her a look to give it her best shot and she took a step forward as she stated: "So that you can brag to all your little social buddies over cards and liquor that yeah, you aimed high too - once."
He met her half way and his eyes were shooting lightening as hers displayed thunder, their stances so rigid you couldn't have imagined they had only a short minute earlier been wrapped in each other's arms.
"I don't have any bleeding 'social buddies' to brag to anymore, Slayer," he snarled. "Remember?" he added, tapping the back of his head meaningfully and she rolled her eyes at his melodramatics before he continued with: "And as for aiming high... I've aimed higher."
"I hate you. I really do hate you," she murmured.
"So leave," he grumbled. "See if I care."
"You haven't claimed your prize," she suddenly remarked and he blinked as he looked down at her. "You won the Truth or Dare... So claim it now and be done with it."
He could see the growing plea in her eyes and he realized, to his own amazement, that she wanted him to claim HER.
"You said you weren't something to be had," he reminded, voice lowered as he grew very aware of how close they were standing to one another. Their chests were practically touching, her body heat extending, her scent circling and binding... It was poison, and it ran through his veins easily.
I can't do this. I can't do this. Not again. I'll never break free of him. I'll be stuck in here forever...
She took a step back, and he watched the plea reduce to nothing as her eyes hardened slowly. The determination on her was palpable and he drew an unnoticeable breath at the fact of it, and the fact that once again he stood as the loser before her.
"I'm not," she confirmed silently.
"Are you going to HIM?" he muttered and she looked up at him.
"You said you don't believe in jealousy," she mimicked his matter-of-factly tone and he cocked an eyebrow as she turned and walked back up to the door.
This time she opened it, stepped through it and left him all alone again.
He couldn't stop her.
And something told him this was how it would always be.
Her leaving.
Him watching.
As he was left behind.
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ******************
Oh, as always it is so great to access my account and have a stack of reviews just waiting to be read! Thank you! I'm so happy you're enjoying the Spuffyness. hope you did this time as well. :)
Special thanks to Jen, Mel, Captain, Renee', Rachel, Von, Pine, charisma1525, Alyssa, wolf116, Phyllis (for both!), Heather and Johanna! Thanks a loooooot you guys, really appreciated! I'm really, really glad you still approve and hope this will prove no exception!
Oh, and a few of you seemed to not take to kindly to the teddy bear pun and all and so hey, I'll share my Spike-bot with you, k? I'll ship him over tomorrow! Oh, and don't even attempt kicking him outta your bed, even if you are that kinda twisted person. He gets really grumpy and might actually tie you to a chair and. oh, wait. What am I saying?! You can play Kick The Spike all you like! ;P
A.M.L, Annie.
Twenty-Nine: Let There Be Light
By Annie
2003-05-09
**************************************************************************** *****
Day Twenty-Seven.
7.35 a.m.
Spike let the index finger and middle finger of his right hand trail the small cavity leading from the base of her ribcage to her bellybutton. Circling the latter slowly he directed his gaze on her face. Her eyes were closed. Something he didn't dare see as a smile curled either corner of her luscious mouth and as always he couldn't resist leaning forward, placing a kiss in the corner closest to him - which happened to be the right.
Buffy turned her head to him, parted her lips and kissed him back cautiously, deepening it in a dragged out way that - during the past eighteen hours she had learned - drove him close to insanity. She smiled, still kissing him, as his fingers slipped to grasp her waist, his tongue growing demanding which let her know just how easily she got to him. She relished in this kind of control over him; she never would have thought that she could make him the way she actually kept making him.
Powerless...
Not that she had developed any sort of defense against HIM in turn, not even close. He reeled her in as easy as one glance was, but the way he made her feel - as though she for the first time was fully in her body and experienced it with him - had her unable to feel any regret.
She had come to him because of this, because the bond of passion and pleasure tentatively forming between them was undeniable; and also, she had to admit it, because she had been curious. Where would it lead? How long would it take for it to snap, or disperse? Why was it even able to exist in the first place?
No, she didn't want to feel relaxed around him. She didn't want to look at him and have the need to reach out one hand and slide it over his muscular torso, one of his biceps, or through those bleached curls of his be simply too great to suppress. She didn't want to want him... but the fact remained that she did.
Having him touching her sent the strangest calm through her, and she kept lying to herself that it didn't, but she understood that she wouldn't be able to do so forever. The warmth in his eyes kept reaching out to spread into her, through her; and she couldn't fight the way he made her feel when his touches were as gentle as they had been for the past three hours. He made her feel desired, but most of all he made her feel beautiful.
He kept looking at her in something close to awe, and she couldn't tell the origin of it. His gaze was tender as it stroked her skin in the same manner as his hands did and the question "why" seemed very eligible in the context.
Though the night prior to this one had held its share of surprises on the sex front; his slow kisses and his careful eagerness had been very different from how he had acted in the basement. Then it had been about owning, about breaking her down, about proving her wrong. The night prior had not been.
And the afternoon, evening, night and early morning she had spent with him; in his arms, underneath, on top, breathing or barely able to... those hours had proven to her what she had suspected all along - that as a lover he was attentive. Sure, it had been rough at times - but in a good way. In an exciting way. And to, in the following moment, be reduced into excruciating slowness.
He ruled her; he broke her down so easily.
How could she battle him with her hands when the feel of his cool skin made her ache, had her trembling? How could she win when such a big part of her was dying to lose, and let him conquer her to the very last cell of her?
She couldn't - could she?
She opened her eyes before pulling her face an inch away from his, waiting until he reluctantly eased his eyes open as well. Then a small smile, which he couldn't take as anything else, formed on her lips and he returned it hesitantly. There had been a few of those, though the long glances she gave him so filled with clear desire were less scarce, and he admitted to enjoying those just one notch below how incredible the way she was looking at him right now made him feel.
Somewhere, deep down there in the green, lay those somedays and what ifs and maybes and when she rested her eyes in his like that - then she could see. She couldn't help but see.
They hadn't spoken one word in four hours.
During that time their bodies and senses had had the most powerful and intimate conversation to which they had ever been the humble subjects to; and so words were deemed unnecessary.
Though neither one of them had any concept of time, of course. They could tell it somewhat by the sun setting, shadows spreading to give way for pure darkness and the need for candlelight. And then the candles slow burning down to melt into sad heaps of white, cream and crimson. Soon after that the shadows were on the run, chased by building light and gradually the crypt let scattered rays grace its floor through tattered windowpanes.
Now the morning was gracing the atmosphere and Buffy suddenly shuddered, the chill claiming her as it ran its fingers up her back.
"Cold?" he broke the silence and she smiled again.
He swallowed, feeling all thumbs at how to act now. Where to go from there.
Then she slid one hand up behind his neck, propping herself up on one elbow before she moved her body closer to his.
He swallowed harder.
Her lips gently graced his and a jolt went through him, his heart beating for a second before her face moved to nestle against the side of his throat, her hand gliding down from his neck and over his back as she pressed herself to him. He let one hand bury itself in her locks as he held her close, closing his eyes and feeling truly blessed that he was granted this moment.
"No," she murmured; lips to the side of his throat and he drew a small breath at the sensation. "Okay, so maybe a little," she then added and he chuckled quietly as she pulled her head back to look up at him again.
She smiled wider at the sight of the unmasked enjoyment on his features, and the expression merely widened as he seemed to grow self-conscious.
"What's so bloody amusing?" he finally muttered and she giggled, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and then kissing him on the mouth softly.
"I thought you'd have some snazzy comeback like 'Let's see if I can't bloody warm you up', or 'Come here and I'll make you all warm and snug', or..."
"Okay," he interrupted, not able to hold back a smile as well. "Sorry I disappointed," he then added and she cocked an eyebrow.
She moved her head forward and this time she caught his lower lip between the both of hers, her tongue running over it before she kissed him deeply. He let hear a muffled moan as he kissed her back, rolling her over and sliding into place between her thighs.
"Apology not accepted," she mumbled and he smirked, letting his mouth travel down the side of her throat. "You'll have to find another way to..." she added, trailing off as he moved his hips forward and slowly entered her.
"Warm you up?" he asked and she smiled distractedly, nodding.
"Make me snug," she murmured and his smirk broadened as he began to take, and give.
***
8.16 a.m.
"Hungry?" he wondered and she turned her head to him where she lay beside him.
Then she groaned.
"Yes!" she confirmed. "You shouldn't have said anything, though," she added as she watched him sit up and move his legs to the side of the sarcophagus. He gave her a questioning glance over one shoulder and she raised her eyebrows. "Well, you haven't got anything human friendly in here, have you?" she remarked and he smirked.
Then he rose to his feet, turned to her and made a small, theatrical bow before he raised one finger and prayed her patience. Once that was done he practically - but not quite - removed himself from sight as he walked into the small resemblance of a kitchen at the far end of his abode, beginning to open cabinets and the small fridge. Buffy furrowed her brow, wondering what he was up to. Turning herself around she placed herself on her belly to better be able to keep some sort of eye on his on-goings.
Soon enough he re-emerged with a tray in his hands and her eyebrows shot up again.
"You are full of surprises," she said as he put the object down before her and she sat up, eyeing the bread, fruit, the tall glass of milk and a stash of...
"Marshmallows?" she asked, looking up at him and he smiled, grabbing one and throwing it into the air in a perfect aim at his mouth, chewing it as he answered:
"Can't get enough of 'em."
She smiled as well, finding it coming easy this time, and then she nearly blushed before removing her gaze from his. Reaching out her hand she grabbed the nearby lying sheet and pulled it into her lap to cover herself up slightly. She had suddenly felt so bare before him.
So, he likes marshmallows! What's the big deal?!
Clearing her throat she took a grape and brought it to her lips, biting into it. Spike watched her and then arched one eyebrow.
"Hungry, eh?" he then remarked and she smiled again, putting the whole thing in her mouth. "Atta girl," he commended, having her merely wrinkle her nose at him as a reply.
He took a seat facing her, grabbing a fist's worth of marshmallows as well as the cup of blood he had prepared for himself. Buffy watched him closely in something resembling abhor as she anticipated him to blend the candy in with the food. He didn't, merely gobbled some up before taking a mouthful of the thick liquid and she let out the air she had been holding, making him look at her. She shrugged dismissively, taking a piece of the bread and beginning to chew on it thoughtfully as she rested her gaze in his.
"Guess you didn't have this problem with Dru, huh?" she asked and he choked on the blood he had just been swallowing at the mention of his ex as well as the casual way in which it had been delivered. "Well, I mean... You didn't have to buy - oh, pardon me - steal food to keep around at the chance of her dropping by," the Slayer added innocently and now he smirked.
"For your well-needed information, love," he then stated, "none of that was brought here for YOUR sake."
"Oh, really?" she asked and he nodded firmly. "Got any other little mortal lovers stashed below?" she wondered, reaching out a hand as she spoke and trailing it up his right arm.
"I think it's pretty sodding safe to say that no matter what we may be - we're NOT 'lovers'," he shot and she removed her hand with a sinking feeling in her chest which she managed to ignore completely before she gave a small shrug.
"So... you eat this stuff?" she wondered, gesturing to the tray and he smiled again.
"Sure I eat it, if I'm in the mood," he replied and she returned the smile.
"How normal of you," she said and the smile turned into a smirk. "I know, I know," she then sighed. "Whatever the two of us may be it sure as hell ain't 'normal'," she finished and he laughed at that, nodding.
"Ain't it the sad truth?" he asked and they both grew serious.
Buffy wasn't sure what to say next. Spike really wasn't either.
"You and Dru," she tried the subject again, having his eyes in hers immediately. "I guess you had some pretty wild times, huh?" she added and he smiled widely. "Ugh, I shouldn't have asked," she shuddered.
"Then why did you?" he inquired and she shrank underneath his searching gaze until she managed to get out:
"I hope I'm not missing anything important at school... Studying is sucha drag. If I have to make up for info lost then..." she was interrupted by him leaning forward and kissing her on the lips. "I'm not sure how to make the time," she finished her sentence, eyes still closed as he sat back again.
Then she opened them and looked at him in silence for a few moments before she shook her head.
"What are we doing?" she asked him and he tilted his head a little to one side.
Then he threw himself forward and tilted her back, making her giggle loudly as she fought to get lose. Though this time he pinned her down and she looked up at him as he let his face hover above hers. Kissing the tip of her nose, then her forehead and last her lips he then smiled.
"Wanna ask me again?" he wondered silently and she smiled widely, returning the kiss he then gave her before he placed himself by her side and she moved to place her head on his chest.
They were quiet for a little while, both content in that and both too comfortable to ponder any further on their comfort. And then he opened his big mouth as he asked:
"What does the Captain think about all this?" He felt how she grew stiff against him, but he couldn't shut himself up now; this had been on his mind to and fro and he needed to hear what she had to say. "Don't you think taking off time from your busy love-dee-love schedule to come spend it with me might make him..." She slowly sat up and he turned his head to look at her as she ran one hand through her locks, getting them out of her face. "...miss you," he then finished his sentence and she shook her head a little before crawling to the edge of the sarcophagus and removing herself from it, standing on both legs she said:
"I have to go."
She wasn't looking at him, and he bit his jaws together in growing defeat as he watched her walk into the room, gathering up her clothes as she went and then going up to the armchair to begin to dress. He scooted to the side of the sculpted stone as well, getting to his feet and approaching her as she pulled her sweater over her head.
"You understand I bloody had to ask, don't you?" he wondered and she shook her head again before she turned to face him, her expression suddenly distant and cold.
She was pushing him away with her gaze and he stopped five feet from her as he read the storm going on within her. What was she so scared of? He couldn't understand why she acted so cornered.
"Look, what goes on between Riley and me is none of your business," she stated and he blinked, reaching down and grabbing his pants lying on the floor, tugging them on and jumping into them he buttoned them with rather angered movements before he rested his eyes in hers once more.
"Sleeping with me for nearly one bloody day straight and it's 'none of my business'?!" he exclaimed.
"Like you said, Spike: we're not 'lovers'; so why the hell should I tell you anything? Apart from the right directions, that is," she shot and he stared at her before he replied coolly:
"I don't think you EVER needed to do that, love."
She ground her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest as she struggled to collect herself.
"I have to go," she then repeated, turning and walking up to the door.
"Buffy," he stopped her and she drew a rather shaky breath as she closed her eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say with her back still to him. "You're just gonna leave?"
"Yes," she answered him, turning partially to him and holding his gaze firmly.
"Just like that?"
She looked at him and felt like her heart was breaking into two pieces as two sides of her struggled for recognition. She knew she couldn't stay, she had completely gone too far with this already; she had forgotten about everything that waited outside. She couldn't let herself do that anymore, she had to take control... but, God, how she didn't want to go.
"Yeah," she now replied. "Just like that."
"Wear and tear?" he murmured and she swallowed.
"I can't do this right now," she merely replied and he halted her second attempt at exiting as he yelled:
"No, you just do ME, don't you?!"
She gave him a sharp glare at that.
"I haven't heard any complaints so far, why start now?" she retorted and his eyebrows rose.
"'Cause you're just about out the sodding door, that's why!" he then raised his voice again and she bit her jaws together hard as she met his furious gaze.
"And what is this to you?" she shot. "What am I to you, Spike? You're milking this situation for every last drabble and I'd bet you anything I can tell you why." He gave her a look to give it her best shot and she took a step forward as she stated: "So that you can brag to all your little social buddies over cards and liquor that yeah, you aimed high too - once."
He met her half way and his eyes were shooting lightening as hers displayed thunder, their stances so rigid you couldn't have imagined they had only a short minute earlier been wrapped in each other's arms.
"I don't have any bleeding 'social buddies' to brag to anymore, Slayer," he snarled. "Remember?" he added, tapping the back of his head meaningfully and she rolled her eyes at his melodramatics before he continued with: "And as for aiming high... I've aimed higher."
"I hate you. I really do hate you," she murmured.
"So leave," he grumbled. "See if I care."
"You haven't claimed your prize," she suddenly remarked and he blinked as he looked down at her. "You won the Truth or Dare... So claim it now and be done with it."
He could see the growing plea in her eyes and he realized, to his own amazement, that she wanted him to claim HER.
"You said you weren't something to be had," he reminded, voice lowered as he grew very aware of how close they were standing to one another. Their chests were practically touching, her body heat extending, her scent circling and binding... It was poison, and it ran through his veins easily.
I can't do this. I can't do this. Not again. I'll never break free of him. I'll be stuck in here forever...
She took a step back, and he watched the plea reduce to nothing as her eyes hardened slowly. The determination on her was palpable and he drew an unnoticeable breath at the fact of it, and the fact that once again he stood as the loser before her.
"I'm not," she confirmed silently.
"Are you going to HIM?" he muttered and she looked up at him.
"You said you don't believe in jealousy," she mimicked his matter-of-factly tone and he cocked an eyebrow as she turned and walked back up to the door.
This time she opened it, stepped through it and left him all alone again.
He couldn't stop her.
And something told him this was how it would always be.
Her leaving.
Him watching.
As he was left behind.
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Oh, as always it is so great to access my account and have a stack of reviews just waiting to be read! Thank you! I'm so happy you're enjoying the Spuffyness. hope you did this time as well. :)
Special thanks to Jen, Mel, Captain, Renee', Rachel, Von, Pine, charisma1525, Alyssa, wolf116, Phyllis (for both!), Heather and Johanna! Thanks a loooooot you guys, really appreciated! I'm really, really glad you still approve and hope this will prove no exception!
Oh, and a few of you seemed to not take to kindly to the teddy bear pun and all and so hey, I'll share my Spike-bot with you, k? I'll ship him over tomorrow! Oh, and don't even attempt kicking him outta your bed, even if you are that kinda twisted person. He gets really grumpy and might actually tie you to a chair and. oh, wait. What am I saying?! You can play Kick The Spike all you like! ;P
A.M.L, Annie.