'Where can I run to?
Where can I hide?
Who will I turn to?
Now I'm in a virgin state of mind.'
July was at it's peak, the year frozen into the inertia of endless heat. The town of Sunnydale plodded on sluggishly, it's citizens watching the calendar hopefully, each waiting for autumn and the relief it promised from the unquenchable heat.
Buffy managed a soft smile in Riley's direction as he settled across from her in the table. He smiled back, tenderly, his big hand reaching out to cup her smaller hand. She let his touch her, ignored the voice in her head that was cataloguing his flaws, comparing him to Spike. She blushed and Riley' smile deepened. He released her hand carefully and turned to his menu. Buffy followed suit, using the opportunity to organize her scattered wits.
She'd agreed to this date with Riley mostly as a way to assuage her guilt, there was no doubt left her mind now about how her interactions with Spike would end. Forces much greater than either of them were conspiring to place them together -- passion, desire, possessiveness -- none would be denied. What unnerved her the most was how she relished it.
Buffy sighed and scanned the menu. Riley looked up at her, a faint smile still on his face before he returned to his menu. Contentment rolled off him in waves, adding to the influx of guilt that plagued the Slayer. She frowned, attempting to push thoughts of Riley and Spike out of her mind; and failing miserably.
She frowned, reluctantly resigning herself to the direction her mind had seemed inclined to follow lately. At first, she hadn't seen the problem with sharing a few kisses with Spike while maintaining her relationship with Riley. While Riley was by no means inexperienced he was not the connoisseur of the senses that Spike was. Where only a heated glance from Spike sent her reeling, Riley's most fervent attentions left her only mildly excited. The heat, her need and his persistent attentions all conspired against her. Despite her guilt and her initial reservations she knew it would only be a matter of time before she found herself in Spike's bed.
At the thought a flush of pleasure went through her body, deepening the color of her skin.
Riley watched her surreptitiously from over the rim of his menu. His eyes ran hungrily over her lithe form, clad only in a thin summer dress. His mouth grew dry as he drank in the sight, her long golden legs were displayed from the mid thigh downward, her delicate ankles and feet clad in a pair of strappy sandals. Her shoulder length blonde air floated about her, framing her face to distraction, softening her warrior's features.
Unexpectedly she looked up and caught his eye and gave him another of her fleeting, teasing, smiles. Riley felt himself harden. Tonight, he thought excitedly, tonight he would have her.
* * *
Spike closed his eyes as he lay back on the sarcophagus. It was impossible for him, despite his strong romantic streak, to deny where he knew she was tonight. His ace hardened as he stared at the stained ceiling of the mausoleum. It had been inevitable, he'd known it from the start, as soon as he'd recovered from the glorious shock of laying his mouth against hers for the first time. It had been an epiphany for him, as he'd kissed and caressed, as he'd lost himself in her, drowned in her heat; he loved her.
How long? He couldn't say. Long enough in his opinion.
Spike scowled, trying to turn his thoughts away from the golden siren that haunted him. She wasn't his. Would never be his. No matter how much he loved her, pleasured her, changed her -- she'd always flee back to her world. To the sunlight, the hopeless dreams, to the Soldier Boy. Spike made a sharp sound of disgust, whether he was disgusted with her or himself he couldn't say. Most likely it was with the both of them -- and the whole damned world just for good measure.
There was only one sane way to play the game with Slayer and survive intact. She must never discover the true nature of his feelings, the depths with which he loved her. It was too dangerous a weapon to place in her hands. One that would ultimately lead to his downfall.
There was nothing saying, aside from a general unspoken agreement among the demon community, that he couldn't take have her physically. Indeed, after that last night in the graveyard -- when he'd brought her to new sensory heights -- he knew that it was inevitable. She wanted it as much as he did.
Eagerness suffused his body, fanning the flames of his desire. Restlessly he rose from his spot and paced the narrow area. The exercise did little to ease the tension that gripped him. With a muttered curse Spike left the confines of his crypt, intent only on one thing. The Slayer, preferably writhing beneath him in ecstasy. One glance up at the moon hanging low in the sky confirmed his suspicions, it was well after three in the morning. If there was a time to make is move it would be now, when she would likely be secreted back in her room away from the hulking Neanderthal form of her boyfriend.
Tonight he would end the game between them once and for all.
Where can I hide?
Who will I turn to?
Now I'm in a virgin state of mind.'
July was at it's peak, the year frozen into the inertia of endless heat. The town of Sunnydale plodded on sluggishly, it's citizens watching the calendar hopefully, each waiting for autumn and the relief it promised from the unquenchable heat.
Buffy managed a soft smile in Riley's direction as he settled across from her in the table. He smiled back, tenderly, his big hand reaching out to cup her smaller hand. She let his touch her, ignored the voice in her head that was cataloguing his flaws, comparing him to Spike. She blushed and Riley' smile deepened. He released her hand carefully and turned to his menu. Buffy followed suit, using the opportunity to organize her scattered wits.
She'd agreed to this date with Riley mostly as a way to assuage her guilt, there was no doubt left her mind now about how her interactions with Spike would end. Forces much greater than either of them were conspiring to place them together -- passion, desire, possessiveness -- none would be denied. What unnerved her the most was how she relished it.
Buffy sighed and scanned the menu. Riley looked up at her, a faint smile still on his face before he returned to his menu. Contentment rolled off him in waves, adding to the influx of guilt that plagued the Slayer. She frowned, attempting to push thoughts of Riley and Spike out of her mind; and failing miserably.
She frowned, reluctantly resigning herself to the direction her mind had seemed inclined to follow lately. At first, she hadn't seen the problem with sharing a few kisses with Spike while maintaining her relationship with Riley. While Riley was by no means inexperienced he was not the connoisseur of the senses that Spike was. Where only a heated glance from Spike sent her reeling, Riley's most fervent attentions left her only mildly excited. The heat, her need and his persistent attentions all conspired against her. Despite her guilt and her initial reservations she knew it would only be a matter of time before she found herself in Spike's bed.
At the thought a flush of pleasure went through her body, deepening the color of her skin.
Riley watched her surreptitiously from over the rim of his menu. His eyes ran hungrily over her lithe form, clad only in a thin summer dress. His mouth grew dry as he drank in the sight, her long golden legs were displayed from the mid thigh downward, her delicate ankles and feet clad in a pair of strappy sandals. Her shoulder length blonde air floated about her, framing her face to distraction, softening her warrior's features.
Unexpectedly she looked up and caught his eye and gave him another of her fleeting, teasing, smiles. Riley felt himself harden. Tonight, he thought excitedly, tonight he would have her.
* * *
Spike closed his eyes as he lay back on the sarcophagus. It was impossible for him, despite his strong romantic streak, to deny where he knew she was tonight. His ace hardened as he stared at the stained ceiling of the mausoleum. It had been inevitable, he'd known it from the start, as soon as he'd recovered from the glorious shock of laying his mouth against hers for the first time. It had been an epiphany for him, as he'd kissed and caressed, as he'd lost himself in her, drowned in her heat; he loved her.
How long? He couldn't say. Long enough in his opinion.
Spike scowled, trying to turn his thoughts away from the golden siren that haunted him. She wasn't his. Would never be his. No matter how much he loved her, pleasured her, changed her -- she'd always flee back to her world. To the sunlight, the hopeless dreams, to the Soldier Boy. Spike made a sharp sound of disgust, whether he was disgusted with her or himself he couldn't say. Most likely it was with the both of them -- and the whole damned world just for good measure.
There was only one sane way to play the game with Slayer and survive intact. She must never discover the true nature of his feelings, the depths with which he loved her. It was too dangerous a weapon to place in her hands. One that would ultimately lead to his downfall.
There was nothing saying, aside from a general unspoken agreement among the demon community, that he couldn't take have her physically. Indeed, after that last night in the graveyard -- when he'd brought her to new sensory heights -- he knew that it was inevitable. She wanted it as much as he did.
Eagerness suffused his body, fanning the flames of his desire. Restlessly he rose from his spot and paced the narrow area. The exercise did little to ease the tension that gripped him. With a muttered curse Spike left the confines of his crypt, intent only on one thing. The Slayer, preferably writhing beneath him in ecstasy. One glance up at the moon hanging low in the sky confirmed his suspicions, it was well after three in the morning. If there was a time to make is move it would be now, when she would likely be secreted back in her room away from the hulking Neanderthal form of her boyfriend.
Tonight he would end the game between them once and for all.