'Don't waste your touch, you won't feel anything,
Or were you sent to save me?
I've thought to much, you won't find anything,
Worthy of redeeming.'
She awoke to the sound of rain on glass. Buffy sighed, stretched and rolled over to snuggle deeper into Spike's still form. She sighed, inhaling his scent as her eyelids fluttered closed. Despite the rain, the air was still heavy and warm; the summer storm doing little to alleviate the intense heat of the past few months. Contentment spread across her body as Spike's arms tightened around her, for the first time in months she felt at peace, relaxed, fulfilled. How stupid, she mused, to think that she could live without this. Without him.
Pushing herself up on one elbow she studied the man below her. In sleep his face was smooth, deceptively soft. It was hard to imagine that she was staring into the face of a demon as he slept, hard to imagine that the hands which caressed her so tenderly had killed; whether he was sleeping or awake it was hard for her to see anything but the man she loved -- the man who loved her back.
Her fingers dipped down slowly, running across the cool planes of his mouth before settling on full mouth. Her head followed as she pressed her lips to his softly. Spike's eyes fluttered opened as she broke the contact and he smiled up at her, his fingers rising to caress her face, "Morning."
"Morning."
He pulled her head back down to his for another kiss, their tongues meeting as their mouths slanted and slid together intimately. His fingers languidly traced a path down the curve of her shoulder to her arm, eliciting a languid sigh from Buffy. Her hair flowed against his face as his other hand wrapped around the thick honeyed strands, deepening the kiss. They broke apart slowly, reluctantly, Spike's hand still placed tightly in her hair, "No regrets."
She shook her head slightly, her hazel eyes meeting his cerulean ones, watching as the pupils and colors shifted. Like the sky, she realized, the sky before a storm. Like the ocean, "I think I might've died If I'd let you go."
He kissed her again before pulling her tightly against his chest, "Rest assured, pet, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for the long haul." He paused for a moment letting his words sink in, "Even if you don't want me."
Silence followed his proclamation and Spike felt his thoughts drifting as the scent, feel, sound, of her surrounded him. His grip on her tightened and she squeezed him back, her small hands warm against his skin, "What are you going to do about Captain Cardboard?"
Buffy's hands tightened against the skin on his chest quickly before loosening, her hazel eyes met his grey ones nervously, "It's over between us." Her head dropped back down to his chest, his silence filing her ears, "It has been for a long time."
Spike nodded, "And the Scoobies?"
Buffy shrugged, "They'll just have to get used to it. It's my life. Besides, "she paused to let her eyes meet Spike's again, "If they can't accept me the way I am then were they ever really worth it?"
Spike exhaled and sat up slowly. Ignoring Buffy's questioning gaze he reached for his jeans and began pulling them on, "It's not going to be that easy, Slayer."
Buffy frowned at his change of attitude, "It'll have to be." Buffy reached out and placed her hands on the sharp planes of his back, her warm fingers burning through his cold skin. Spike growled as her heat penetrated him, reminding him all to easily of his own coldness, his own deadness. Stiffly he pulled away from her and stood up to face the window. The grey sky loomed before him, the fat drops of rain beating relentlessly against the window. He placed his fingers along the pane of glass, felt the chill.
Behind him he could hear the sounds of Buffy moving around and, for a moment, entertained the idea of turning around and going back to her bed and forgetting about all the concerns that plagued him. He pushed the thought away and, still fixated on the dismal scene before him, began, "It's not going to be that easy pet because they won't forget that I'm a monster."
Silence reached him from her side of the room before Spike felt himself being pushed around by two small hands and slammed up against the wall, "And they won't forget that I'm the Slayer." She paused and loosened her grip, "If you think that I'm about to give you a get out of jail free card just because I have feelings for you than you're wrong. I'm not the same stupid girl that I was at sixteen. I won't make the same mistake twice. If you're really the monster that you say you are then you better leave now because, lover or not, ally or not, I will kill you."
He growled again, his voice rough and angry as his eyes flashed yellow, "You can' take the monster out of the man, love. I'm not some poofter Nancy Boy here to be redeemed. I'm me Spike. I don't have a soul and I don't want one. And I'm not going to walk away for your own good, or mine." His face morphed into his demon mask as his hands grabbed at her wrists, pulling her against him, "You belong to me and I'll be damned if I'm leaving just because you think this is a fairytale and I'm your prince."
Buffy moved closer to him, her mouth hovering a inch below his and she said forcefully, "What makes you think I want you redeemed? What makes you think that I don't want the monster and the man. You're mine and I want you just the way you are and if you decide to pull an Angel on me I'll stake you. I don't want Angel 2.0 -- I want you."
There was nothing left for him to do but kiss her.
* * *
Riley cursed at the rain as he stared outside the mirrored windows of the Initiative's new compound. Rain meant that there would be little demonic activity tonight, which meant that there was little chance of him capturing either Buffy or Spike. To say that he was anxious to apprehend the lovers would be an understatement. He burned with the need to get his hands on them and exact their revenge. He would drink in their fear, their torment, their pain. Even now he could almost taste the heady exhilaration of his completed goal. He was close. Oh, so close.
The city of Sunnydale lay sprawled before him, a small networking of houses and commercial buildings. There were few high rises in the city due to the small business district. The few that did exist were all clustered around the same area and housed mostly banks as well as the sparse, misplaced offices. Now the city was deserted, the hungry earth soaking up the warm rain through the cracked and marred concrete, the residents of Sunnydale basking in the small respite from the nerve wracking heat that had characterized the summer thus far.
Every so often the lone car or pedestrian would scuttle by, umbrellas open and hoods drawn up as they went about their business. But, search as he might, the blonde duo never appeared. It was futile he knew, had known all day, to hope that it would be as simple a matter of walking out into the street and getting the matter over with. They wouldn't make it that easy on a man.
The sound of footsteps in the empty corridor started Riley out of his reverie. He glanced up only to find Graham approaching him cautiously, "Hey."
Graham nodded back, "Hey." Riley let his attention shift back to the grey, damp world outside the windows. He found himself acutely aware of Graham's presence beside him as he gazed out the window as well, "Heard you rejoined the force."
Riley paused, his eyes sizing up the man before him before nodding carefully, "Change in plans."
Graham nodded, "I didn't expect to see you back again -- not after the incident last year. Does Buffy know?"
"Buffy's no longer a factor."
Graham repressed a shiver at the steel in Riley's voice. Confusion clouded his mind, he had been sure that after their "talk" Buffy'd been more than willing to stay with Riley. In fact, he'd been surprised at how easily she'd acquiesced to his arguments for the farm boy. Graham's memory raced back to the memory of that day. He could still see her sitting there on her bedspread, she'd looked impossibly small for such a powerful woman, nodding at everything he'd said. If her eyes had been a little dull, her tone listless, her actions apathetic -- well, he hadn't exactly been expecting her to be elated. He was, after all, blackmailing her.
How could it have gone so wrong?
One thing was for certain, he definitely needed to find the blond Slayer and find out. He studied the hard set of Riley's jaw line, the cold set of his eyes, the tensions gripping his body. For all their sakes he needed to understand.
Or were you sent to save me?
I've thought to much, you won't find anything,
Worthy of redeeming.'
She awoke to the sound of rain on glass. Buffy sighed, stretched and rolled over to snuggle deeper into Spike's still form. She sighed, inhaling his scent as her eyelids fluttered closed. Despite the rain, the air was still heavy and warm; the summer storm doing little to alleviate the intense heat of the past few months. Contentment spread across her body as Spike's arms tightened around her, for the first time in months she felt at peace, relaxed, fulfilled. How stupid, she mused, to think that she could live without this. Without him.
Pushing herself up on one elbow she studied the man below her. In sleep his face was smooth, deceptively soft. It was hard to imagine that she was staring into the face of a demon as he slept, hard to imagine that the hands which caressed her so tenderly had killed; whether he was sleeping or awake it was hard for her to see anything but the man she loved -- the man who loved her back.
Her fingers dipped down slowly, running across the cool planes of his mouth before settling on full mouth. Her head followed as she pressed her lips to his softly. Spike's eyes fluttered opened as she broke the contact and he smiled up at her, his fingers rising to caress her face, "Morning."
"Morning."
He pulled her head back down to his for another kiss, their tongues meeting as their mouths slanted and slid together intimately. His fingers languidly traced a path down the curve of her shoulder to her arm, eliciting a languid sigh from Buffy. Her hair flowed against his face as his other hand wrapped around the thick honeyed strands, deepening the kiss. They broke apart slowly, reluctantly, Spike's hand still placed tightly in her hair, "No regrets."
She shook her head slightly, her hazel eyes meeting his cerulean ones, watching as the pupils and colors shifted. Like the sky, she realized, the sky before a storm. Like the ocean, "I think I might've died If I'd let you go."
He kissed her again before pulling her tightly against his chest, "Rest assured, pet, I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for the long haul." He paused for a moment letting his words sink in, "Even if you don't want me."
Silence followed his proclamation and Spike felt his thoughts drifting as the scent, feel, sound, of her surrounded him. His grip on her tightened and she squeezed him back, her small hands warm against his skin, "What are you going to do about Captain Cardboard?"
Buffy's hands tightened against the skin on his chest quickly before loosening, her hazel eyes met his grey ones nervously, "It's over between us." Her head dropped back down to his chest, his silence filing her ears, "It has been for a long time."
Spike nodded, "And the Scoobies?"
Buffy shrugged, "They'll just have to get used to it. It's my life. Besides, "she paused to let her eyes meet Spike's again, "If they can't accept me the way I am then were they ever really worth it?"
Spike exhaled and sat up slowly. Ignoring Buffy's questioning gaze he reached for his jeans and began pulling them on, "It's not going to be that easy, Slayer."
Buffy frowned at his change of attitude, "It'll have to be." Buffy reached out and placed her hands on the sharp planes of his back, her warm fingers burning through his cold skin. Spike growled as her heat penetrated him, reminding him all to easily of his own coldness, his own deadness. Stiffly he pulled away from her and stood up to face the window. The grey sky loomed before him, the fat drops of rain beating relentlessly against the window. He placed his fingers along the pane of glass, felt the chill.
Behind him he could hear the sounds of Buffy moving around and, for a moment, entertained the idea of turning around and going back to her bed and forgetting about all the concerns that plagued him. He pushed the thought away and, still fixated on the dismal scene before him, began, "It's not going to be that easy pet because they won't forget that I'm a monster."
Silence reached him from her side of the room before Spike felt himself being pushed around by two small hands and slammed up against the wall, "And they won't forget that I'm the Slayer." She paused and loosened her grip, "If you think that I'm about to give you a get out of jail free card just because I have feelings for you than you're wrong. I'm not the same stupid girl that I was at sixteen. I won't make the same mistake twice. If you're really the monster that you say you are then you better leave now because, lover or not, ally or not, I will kill you."
He growled again, his voice rough and angry as his eyes flashed yellow, "You can' take the monster out of the man, love. I'm not some poofter Nancy Boy here to be redeemed. I'm me Spike. I don't have a soul and I don't want one. And I'm not going to walk away for your own good, or mine." His face morphed into his demon mask as his hands grabbed at her wrists, pulling her against him, "You belong to me and I'll be damned if I'm leaving just because you think this is a fairytale and I'm your prince."
Buffy moved closer to him, her mouth hovering a inch below his and she said forcefully, "What makes you think I want you redeemed? What makes you think that I don't want the monster and the man. You're mine and I want you just the way you are and if you decide to pull an Angel on me I'll stake you. I don't want Angel 2.0 -- I want you."
There was nothing left for him to do but kiss her.
* * *
Riley cursed at the rain as he stared outside the mirrored windows of the Initiative's new compound. Rain meant that there would be little demonic activity tonight, which meant that there was little chance of him capturing either Buffy or Spike. To say that he was anxious to apprehend the lovers would be an understatement. He burned with the need to get his hands on them and exact their revenge. He would drink in their fear, their torment, their pain. Even now he could almost taste the heady exhilaration of his completed goal. He was close. Oh, so close.
The city of Sunnydale lay sprawled before him, a small networking of houses and commercial buildings. There were few high rises in the city due to the small business district. The few that did exist were all clustered around the same area and housed mostly banks as well as the sparse, misplaced offices. Now the city was deserted, the hungry earth soaking up the warm rain through the cracked and marred concrete, the residents of Sunnydale basking in the small respite from the nerve wracking heat that had characterized the summer thus far.
Every so often the lone car or pedestrian would scuttle by, umbrellas open and hoods drawn up as they went about their business. But, search as he might, the blonde duo never appeared. It was futile he knew, had known all day, to hope that it would be as simple a matter of walking out into the street and getting the matter over with. They wouldn't make it that easy on a man.
The sound of footsteps in the empty corridor started Riley out of his reverie. He glanced up only to find Graham approaching him cautiously, "Hey."
Graham nodded back, "Hey." Riley let his attention shift back to the grey, damp world outside the windows. He found himself acutely aware of Graham's presence beside him as he gazed out the window as well, "Heard you rejoined the force."
Riley paused, his eyes sizing up the man before him before nodding carefully, "Change in plans."
Graham nodded, "I didn't expect to see you back again -- not after the incident last year. Does Buffy know?"
"Buffy's no longer a factor."
Graham repressed a shiver at the steel in Riley's voice. Confusion clouded his mind, he had been sure that after their "talk" Buffy'd been more than willing to stay with Riley. In fact, he'd been surprised at how easily she'd acquiesced to his arguments for the farm boy. Graham's memory raced back to the memory of that day. He could still see her sitting there on her bedspread, she'd looked impossibly small for such a powerful woman, nodding at everything he'd said. If her eyes had been a little dull, her tone listless, her actions apathetic -- well, he hadn't exactly been expecting her to be elated. He was, after all, blackmailing her.
How could it have gone so wrong?
One thing was for certain, he definitely needed to find the blond Slayer and find out. He studied the hard set of Riley's jaw line, the cold set of his eyes, the tensions gripping his body. For all their sakes he needed to understand.