'You wash my trace from your skin,
And you leave again.'
Spike pushed open the door to the darkened apartment warily, scanning the place for signs of any intruders before shuffling Buffy in. The blonde girl was wrapped tightly in Spike's duster, and she moved slowly, the shock of the last hour still fresh in her mind.
She flinched as Spike closed the door, the sound jolting her out of her reverie. She carefully unwound his duster from around her body, before turning to face Spike. He watched her carefully, eyes taking in her bloodied appearance. Nervously she wrapped her arms around herself, glaring back at him slightly, "Stop looking at me like you think I should be committed."
Spike shook his head and took a step forward, "What happened back there, Buffy?"
"What do you think happened?"
Spike sighed, his hands coming up to her blood smeared neck, "This is your blood, isn't it?"
Buffy dropped her gaze from him, futilely attempting to ignore his worried look. She couldn't even begin to explain to herself what had happened, least of all Spike, "I - I'm not ..." Her voice trailed off.
"I thought I saw someone I used to know."
Spike raised his eyebrow, "I take it they weren't happy to see you."
"Yea," she pulled away from him and moved towards the large covered windows, pulling the curtains aside so that she could look down into the dark street below, "You could say that."
"C'mere, love."
Buffy let Spike pull her away from the window and into the small bathroom. He sat her down on the edge of the tub and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm. Silently, he undressed her, frowning as a crumpled package of Virginia Slims, fell from the pockets of her jeans onto the white tile floor, "I thought you said you were done with smoking, pet."
Buffy shrugged half-heartedly, "You know how it is with cigarettes. They're like sin. Once you've done one you just can't stop."
Spike silently finished examining her body for any cuts or bruises that might have been concealed by her clothes. When he was satisfied that there was no new marks on her, he gestured for her to enter the shower.
Buffy hissed as the warm water made contact with her skin, washing away what felt like layers of blood and grime. She sighed, closing her eyes, letting the water do it's work. The sudden appearance of Kendra in the alley had thrown her off-balance, and the subsequent attack by the former Slayer had left Buffy feeling even more disconnected than normal, "I guess three months of peace is all we're allowed at a time."
On the other side of the shower curtain, Spike nodded, "Looks like someone has bigger plans for us, love, than domestic tranquility."
There was silence for a few moments as Buffy washed the shampoo from her hair. When she finally spoke her voice was small and searching, "What if I don't want this for my life? What if all I want is you."
Spike's throat tightened at her words, "I'm always going to be here, love. Always. No matter what. I'm the long-haul guy, Summers. I love you."
Buffy finished her shower in silence. When she stepped out, Spike held one of the large, soft bath towels out for her, and tenderly began to dry her off. She let out a long sigh and leaned into him, her fingers tracing small circles on his skin, "Spike."
He stopped drying her, his hands snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against him. His voice dropped as he spoke softly in her ear, "I can be here for you, love, any way you want. But I can't be here for you all the way if you don't let me know what's going on."
Buffy sighed, resting her forehead against his, her eyes squeezed shut. Finally, she drew in a deep breath before launching into an explanation about her dreams.
Silence filled the bathroom when Buffy finished relating the dreams to Spike, "So you think these dreams having something to do with your dead mate appearing in the alley?"
Buffy nodded, "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense --"
"No, not really."
"But I think one of the three people I keep seeing in my dreams is Drusilla." The look on Spike's face at the sound of his ex-lover's name made her wish she'd kept her suspicions to herself, "Spike."
His face hardened itself into it's mask of nonchalance, but in his eyes were traces of real worry, "If Dru's gallivanting around in your dreams, love, this could be more serious than it looks."
Buffy nodded, "I know that. There's more to it than that though. She killed Kendra, that night, before --" Buffy's voice trailed off into silence, leaving Spike to fill in the blanks.
He nodded, once, "Well, when you put it that way, her appearance makes a lot more sense. Still doesn't explain how you were covered in your blood without a mark on you."
Buffy's hand went instinctively to her throat, "Before you got there, she cut my throat. With her fingernails. The way Drusilla did it to her."
Spike dug his hands into his jean pockets, searching for a cigarette, "You know what this means, love? We need professional help."
Buffy cracked him a small smile, "Giles?"
"Giles."
'You wash my trace from your skin,
And you leave again.'
"Spike." Buffy's voice stopped him in his tracks as he reached the bathroom door. He had been about to go find some more cigarettes before they made the phone call.
He turned to face her slowly, not sure of what to expect, his nerves tensing with anticipation, "Yes, love?"
Her eyes met his, and she shivered, watching as they shifted to a blue so dark it was almost black. She took a step toward him, her tongue dipping out to moisten her lips. When she reached him, she let her hands rest on his shoulders. Her towel falling to her feet.
Spike hissed at the sight of her standing naked in the bright bathroom light. She pressed herself against him, her fingers splaying themselves across the tops of his shoulders before slowly making their way down to his chest.
"Stay." She breathed the words against his cheek, her mouth dropping lingering kisses on the side of his jaw, "I need you."
Spike swallowed, his jeans suddenly uncomfortably tight, "Are you sure, love?"
She nodded against him, as his hands entangled in her long golden hair before running up and down her back, setting her skin on fire. She whimpered against his neck.
"Look at me, " his voice was hoarse and she did so without hesitation. They stared into each other's eyes without reservation, each one searching for the assurance that, no matter what, they would be all right. What they found was love.
Spike dipped his head down to hers, their mouths hovering centimeters apart, their eyes still connected. Finally, he brought his mouth to hers, tentatively tasting the lips offered to him. Buffy groaned, opening her mouth to him and inviting him deeper. He responded in kind, his hands wrapping themselves in her hair again as they deepened the kiss, tongues dueling frantically.
One of his hands slipped down to her leg, raising her so that she straddled him as he moved them against the bathroom wall. Buffy hissed as her heated skin came in contact with the cool tile. Her hand slipping underneath Spike's T-shirt. Slowly, she ran it along his stomach and chest, teasing his nipples before tugging the thin material over his head.
He let out a groan, his head burying itself in the crook of her neck, one hand stroking her breast, the other pulling her even tighter against him. The feel of his blunt teeth on her neck sent a jolt of electricity through her and she bucked against him, his mouth sucking at the tender flesh after each bite. Her skin burned hot against him, branding him, and it was all he could do to keep himself in check.
And you leave again.'
Spike pushed open the door to the darkened apartment warily, scanning the place for signs of any intruders before shuffling Buffy in. The blonde girl was wrapped tightly in Spike's duster, and she moved slowly, the shock of the last hour still fresh in her mind.
She flinched as Spike closed the door, the sound jolting her out of her reverie. She carefully unwound his duster from around her body, before turning to face Spike. He watched her carefully, eyes taking in her bloodied appearance. Nervously she wrapped her arms around herself, glaring back at him slightly, "Stop looking at me like you think I should be committed."
Spike shook his head and took a step forward, "What happened back there, Buffy?"
"What do you think happened?"
Spike sighed, his hands coming up to her blood smeared neck, "This is your blood, isn't it?"
Buffy dropped her gaze from him, futilely attempting to ignore his worried look. She couldn't even begin to explain to herself what had happened, least of all Spike, "I - I'm not ..." Her voice trailed off.
"I thought I saw someone I used to know."
Spike raised his eyebrow, "I take it they weren't happy to see you."
"Yea," she pulled away from him and moved towards the large covered windows, pulling the curtains aside so that she could look down into the dark street below, "You could say that."
"C'mere, love."
Buffy let Spike pull her away from the window and into the small bathroom. He sat her down on the edge of the tub and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm. Silently, he undressed her, frowning as a crumpled package of Virginia Slims, fell from the pockets of her jeans onto the white tile floor, "I thought you said you were done with smoking, pet."
Buffy shrugged half-heartedly, "You know how it is with cigarettes. They're like sin. Once you've done one you just can't stop."
Spike silently finished examining her body for any cuts or bruises that might have been concealed by her clothes. When he was satisfied that there was no new marks on her, he gestured for her to enter the shower.
Buffy hissed as the warm water made contact with her skin, washing away what felt like layers of blood and grime. She sighed, closing her eyes, letting the water do it's work. The sudden appearance of Kendra in the alley had thrown her off-balance, and the subsequent attack by the former Slayer had left Buffy feeling even more disconnected than normal, "I guess three months of peace is all we're allowed at a time."
On the other side of the shower curtain, Spike nodded, "Looks like someone has bigger plans for us, love, than domestic tranquility."
There was silence for a few moments as Buffy washed the shampoo from her hair. When she finally spoke her voice was small and searching, "What if I don't want this for my life? What if all I want is you."
Spike's throat tightened at her words, "I'm always going to be here, love. Always. No matter what. I'm the long-haul guy, Summers. I love you."
Buffy finished her shower in silence. When she stepped out, Spike held one of the large, soft bath towels out for her, and tenderly began to dry her off. She let out a long sigh and leaned into him, her fingers tracing small circles on his skin, "Spike."
He stopped drying her, his hands snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against him. His voice dropped as he spoke softly in her ear, "I can be here for you, love, any way you want. But I can't be here for you all the way if you don't let me know what's going on."
Buffy sighed, resting her forehead against his, her eyes squeezed shut. Finally, she drew in a deep breath before launching into an explanation about her dreams.
Silence filled the bathroom when Buffy finished relating the dreams to Spike, "So you think these dreams having something to do with your dead mate appearing in the alley?"
Buffy nodded, "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense --"
"No, not really."
"But I think one of the three people I keep seeing in my dreams is Drusilla." The look on Spike's face at the sound of his ex-lover's name made her wish she'd kept her suspicions to herself, "Spike."
His face hardened itself into it's mask of nonchalance, but in his eyes were traces of real worry, "If Dru's gallivanting around in your dreams, love, this could be more serious than it looks."
Buffy nodded, "I know that. There's more to it than that though. She killed Kendra, that night, before --" Buffy's voice trailed off into silence, leaving Spike to fill in the blanks.
He nodded, once, "Well, when you put it that way, her appearance makes a lot more sense. Still doesn't explain how you were covered in your blood without a mark on you."
Buffy's hand went instinctively to her throat, "Before you got there, she cut my throat. With her fingernails. The way Drusilla did it to her."
Spike dug his hands into his jean pockets, searching for a cigarette, "You know what this means, love? We need professional help."
Buffy cracked him a small smile, "Giles?"
"Giles."
'You wash my trace from your skin,
And you leave again.'
"Spike." Buffy's voice stopped him in his tracks as he reached the bathroom door. He had been about to go find some more cigarettes before they made the phone call.
He turned to face her slowly, not sure of what to expect, his nerves tensing with anticipation, "Yes, love?"
Her eyes met his, and she shivered, watching as they shifted to a blue so dark it was almost black. She took a step toward him, her tongue dipping out to moisten her lips. When she reached him, she let her hands rest on his shoulders. Her towel falling to her feet.
Spike hissed at the sight of her standing naked in the bright bathroom light. She pressed herself against him, her fingers splaying themselves across the tops of his shoulders before slowly making their way down to his chest.
"Stay." She breathed the words against his cheek, her mouth dropping lingering kisses on the side of his jaw, "I need you."
Spike swallowed, his jeans suddenly uncomfortably tight, "Are you sure, love?"
She nodded against him, as his hands entangled in her long golden hair before running up and down her back, setting her skin on fire. She whimpered against his neck.
"Look at me, " his voice was hoarse and she did so without hesitation. They stared into each other's eyes without reservation, each one searching for the assurance that, no matter what, they would be all right. What they found was love.
Spike dipped his head down to hers, their mouths hovering centimeters apart, their eyes still connected. Finally, he brought his mouth to hers, tentatively tasting the lips offered to him. Buffy groaned, opening her mouth to him and inviting him deeper. He responded in kind, his hands wrapping themselves in her hair again as they deepened the kiss, tongues dueling frantically.
One of his hands slipped down to her leg, raising her so that she straddled him as he moved them against the bathroom wall. Buffy hissed as her heated skin came in contact with the cool tile. Her hand slipping underneath Spike's T-shirt. Slowly, she ran it along his stomach and chest, teasing his nipples before tugging the thin material over his head.
He let out a groan, his head burying itself in the crook of her neck, one hand stroking her breast, the other pulling her even tighter against him. The feel of his blunt teeth on her neck sent a jolt of electricity through her and she bucked against him, his mouth sucking at the tender flesh after each bite. Her skin burned hot against him, branding him, and it was all he could do to keep himself in check.