'To break down, and cease all feeling,
Burn now, what once was breathing,
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.'
If it was up to him he'd never leave her bed.
The rain had slowed outside and the air was humid and hot with the rainfall. Beside him he could feel Buffy stretch and sigh as she turned into him, her greedy mouth finding his again and again. He gave her everything she asked for; his hands gliding effortlessly along the smooth expanse of her skin, while they teased and tormented, promised and pledged, with their mouths. Her breath was hot against his skin when they broke apart, his hands cool against her face as he brushed back the strands of her golden hair.
She smiled at him, a light curve of her mouth that lit up her face and softened her eyes and his heart, "At some point today we're going to have to get up."
His hand moved from her face to her shoulder to the soft mound of her breast. He squeezed and she gave a low moan, her eyes drifting closed as her mouth opened in pleasure. He raised his head to nibble on the edge of her ear, "Or we could stay here." His mouth found hers again, drawing her into a slow kiss. Her mouth was sweet above him, her soft hands stroking his chest, fingering the two scars on his neck while her legs parted around him.
Her heat was delicious and he slid in easily, a low groan escaping from his lips as she began to move, dragging him deeper inside until only she and her heat existed for him. He could smell her all around him, taste her on his tongue, feel her everywhere and still it wasn't enough. He needed, wanted, more. When she shattered he followed calling out her name, clutching her desperately, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.
* * *
Something was definitely wrong Graham concluded as he walked down the damp streets. He winced at the throb in his shoulder, rolling it inexpertly in hopes of relieving the ache. If possible, it felt worse. The ache in his shoulder was just one of the many minor injuries that peppered his body after today's training session. All of them were inflicted by Riley.
He wasn't the only one damaged from the session, at least half of the Initiative had taken it's turn against Riley, only to find itself unprepared for the level of ferocity aimed at them. As a rule, training sessions were kept light; soldiers held back when facing other soldiers. Today Riley had abandoned that rule, broken it in two, Graham thought grimly as he turned the corner into the residential corner or Sunnydale. He'd been like a one man army and Graham was more than sure that it wasn't his fellow soldiers Riley saw during sparring but Buffy and Spike.
It wasn't that Riley didn't have a right to be angry, Graham could only imagine that he'd react much the same way if he'd been in Riley's position, but the whole day Riley had seemed less like a man and more like the hostiles they faced every night. His former friend exuded hatred which he barely hid beneath an icy veneer. There was no getting through to him and when he'd faced the soldiers today he'd faced them with every intention to inflict as much pain on them as possible. It was as if he was determined to make everyone hurt as much as he did; make them hurt worse even.
It just wasn't healthy. Graham was sure of that at least, as sure as he could be about anything now when it came to the commando. If anyone could get through to Riley it would be Buffy, she was his best hope.
* * *
Riley tightened the straps of his gear as he eyed the slowing rain. It looked as if his luck had changed after all. The soldiers passed around him warily, more than a few spotting mottled bruises from the earlier training session. Riley ignored them; it was better to be feared than loved -- love led you to nothing but betrayal. Fear on the other hand, fear could be molded into a powerful tool. Yes, it was much better this way.
Aimlessly he checked his gun, a pointless exercise since he knew it was completely loaded and ready, he'd made sure of it on his return. It was packed with enough tranquilizers to stop and elephant or, in his case, a rogue Slayer and her blonde demon lover. Riley snorted in disgust.
In part, he supposed, he'd brought it upon himself by assuming that someone like Buffy Summers, a Slayer so obviously and intrinsically tied to the occult, could possibly be capable of a normal, human, relationship. Idiotic, really, that, despite his training, he hadn't been able to see her for what she really was: a hostile just like the rest of them. Granted, he conceded, there were parts of her that were more than undeniably human and she did express a range of emotions that were supposed to be nonexistent in other hostiles.
The problem though wasn't with her ability to feel, Riley snorted, she'd proved just how much she was capable of feeling, and not feeling, in the graveyard that night. Like remorse, he thought bitterly, or guilt for what she did to him. She didn't seem to have an abundance of either of those two qualities. Passions though, or love, Riley felt bitterness rising up in him as pictures the two of them locked in their embrace as she opened up to that -- that! -- demon in ways she'd never allowed herself to open up to him. She had love in spades but not for him.
"Soldier," Riley righted himself as he caught sight of the man before him.
Executing a perfect salute Riley schooled his features into the perfect mask of army discipline, it would not do for the General to know that he wasn't fooled by his façade of fatherly concern, "General."
McGruder smiled inwardly at the specimen before him. He had the makings of a great soldier, it was a pity, after all the world he'd gone through to get him back into the fold, that he was going to have to turn things around the way he was. Still, he reminded himself, it wasn't as if the soldier wouldn't have his uses. Already he was proving himself an easily maneuvered tool, "You will have command of squadron fourteen tonight." Lowering his voice MacGruder eased an inch closer to the young man, "You know what to do."
Riley nodded, his finger tapping his gun suggestively, "I am aware of my duties."
MacGruder nodded, "Excellent soldier."
* * *
Buffy let out a small laugh as Spike's arms wrapped around her, pushing her against the front door. He smirked down at her, amusement lighting his eyes and behind that, the hungry, passionate, look that she'd grown so familiar with over the last couple of days, "Gotcha."
Buffy smiled up at him from beneath her lowered lashes, her hazel eyes darkening as a small pout began to form on her face, "Only because I let you."
Spike stared down at her at mock sternness, his gaze slipping from the depths of her eyes to the sight of her protruding lip, "Tsk, tsk. Haven't you heard that it's poor form for a Slayer to give herself up to her enemies so easily?"
Buffy shrugged and pressed against him, her voice lowering to a seductive note as her own gaze settled on the smooth stretch of his mouth, "Maybe I like being captured." Spike let out a low growl as the lightness of the situation quickly dissipated to be replaced something heavier. Buffy leaned into him, her mouth teasing his with a warm promise, when she spoke he could feel every word she said, "Aren't you going to eat me up?"
His mouth met hers in a hard kiss that sent shivers down her back. She sighed and molded her body more tightly to his familiar form, her hands going around his neck as her hips rocked suggestively against his. She felt Spike tense and then relax under her ministrations, the large bulge settling comfortingly on her lower stomach. The tip of his tongue brushed against her lips, seeking entrance, and she granted it, taking him inside her. One wayward hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, caressing the unrelenting muscles there before sliding across his abdomen to tease the space above his belt. Spike's hands tangled in her hair, as he let out a low groan, drawing her deeper into the kiss.
The sound of knocking broke them apart. Spike growled against her throat as he forced his desires under his control once more, "I'm going to bloody kill whoever it is." Buffy nodded and giving him one last chaste peck on the mouth pulled apart from him reluctantly. Putting on her best, 'no-really-you-didn't-bother-me-but-go-away' face she opened the door slowly only to have reluctant surprise and wariness slip onto her face. Behind her she felt Spike tense up, "What are you doing here?"
Burn now, what once was breathing,
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.'
If it was up to him he'd never leave her bed.
The rain had slowed outside and the air was humid and hot with the rainfall. Beside him he could feel Buffy stretch and sigh as she turned into him, her greedy mouth finding his again and again. He gave her everything she asked for; his hands gliding effortlessly along the smooth expanse of her skin, while they teased and tormented, promised and pledged, with their mouths. Her breath was hot against his skin when they broke apart, his hands cool against her face as he brushed back the strands of her golden hair.
She smiled at him, a light curve of her mouth that lit up her face and softened her eyes and his heart, "At some point today we're going to have to get up."
His hand moved from her face to her shoulder to the soft mound of her breast. He squeezed and she gave a low moan, her eyes drifting closed as her mouth opened in pleasure. He raised his head to nibble on the edge of her ear, "Or we could stay here." His mouth found hers again, drawing her into a slow kiss. Her mouth was sweet above him, her soft hands stroking his chest, fingering the two scars on his neck while her legs parted around him.
Her heat was delicious and he slid in easily, a low groan escaping from his lips as she began to move, dragging him deeper inside until only she and her heat existed for him. He could smell her all around him, taste her on his tongue, feel her everywhere and still it wasn't enough. He needed, wanted, more. When she shattered he followed calling out her name, clutching her desperately, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.
* * *
Something was definitely wrong Graham concluded as he walked down the damp streets. He winced at the throb in his shoulder, rolling it inexpertly in hopes of relieving the ache. If possible, it felt worse. The ache in his shoulder was just one of the many minor injuries that peppered his body after today's training session. All of them were inflicted by Riley.
He wasn't the only one damaged from the session, at least half of the Initiative had taken it's turn against Riley, only to find itself unprepared for the level of ferocity aimed at them. As a rule, training sessions were kept light; soldiers held back when facing other soldiers. Today Riley had abandoned that rule, broken it in two, Graham thought grimly as he turned the corner into the residential corner or Sunnydale. He'd been like a one man army and Graham was more than sure that it wasn't his fellow soldiers Riley saw during sparring but Buffy and Spike.
It wasn't that Riley didn't have a right to be angry, Graham could only imagine that he'd react much the same way if he'd been in Riley's position, but the whole day Riley had seemed less like a man and more like the hostiles they faced every night. His former friend exuded hatred which he barely hid beneath an icy veneer. There was no getting through to him and when he'd faced the soldiers today he'd faced them with every intention to inflict as much pain on them as possible. It was as if he was determined to make everyone hurt as much as he did; make them hurt worse even.
It just wasn't healthy. Graham was sure of that at least, as sure as he could be about anything now when it came to the commando. If anyone could get through to Riley it would be Buffy, she was his best hope.
* * *
Riley tightened the straps of his gear as he eyed the slowing rain. It looked as if his luck had changed after all. The soldiers passed around him warily, more than a few spotting mottled bruises from the earlier training session. Riley ignored them; it was better to be feared than loved -- love led you to nothing but betrayal. Fear on the other hand, fear could be molded into a powerful tool. Yes, it was much better this way.
Aimlessly he checked his gun, a pointless exercise since he knew it was completely loaded and ready, he'd made sure of it on his return. It was packed with enough tranquilizers to stop and elephant or, in his case, a rogue Slayer and her blonde demon lover. Riley snorted in disgust.
In part, he supposed, he'd brought it upon himself by assuming that someone like Buffy Summers, a Slayer so obviously and intrinsically tied to the occult, could possibly be capable of a normal, human, relationship. Idiotic, really, that, despite his training, he hadn't been able to see her for what she really was: a hostile just like the rest of them. Granted, he conceded, there were parts of her that were more than undeniably human and she did express a range of emotions that were supposed to be nonexistent in other hostiles.
The problem though wasn't with her ability to feel, Riley snorted, she'd proved just how much she was capable of feeling, and not feeling, in the graveyard that night. Like remorse, he thought bitterly, or guilt for what she did to him. She didn't seem to have an abundance of either of those two qualities. Passions though, or love, Riley felt bitterness rising up in him as pictures the two of them locked in their embrace as she opened up to that -- that! -- demon in ways she'd never allowed herself to open up to him. She had love in spades but not for him.
"Soldier," Riley righted himself as he caught sight of the man before him.
Executing a perfect salute Riley schooled his features into the perfect mask of army discipline, it would not do for the General to know that he wasn't fooled by his façade of fatherly concern, "General."
McGruder smiled inwardly at the specimen before him. He had the makings of a great soldier, it was a pity, after all the world he'd gone through to get him back into the fold, that he was going to have to turn things around the way he was. Still, he reminded himself, it wasn't as if the soldier wouldn't have his uses. Already he was proving himself an easily maneuvered tool, "You will have command of squadron fourteen tonight." Lowering his voice MacGruder eased an inch closer to the young man, "You know what to do."
Riley nodded, his finger tapping his gun suggestively, "I am aware of my duties."
MacGruder nodded, "Excellent soldier."
* * *
Buffy let out a small laugh as Spike's arms wrapped around her, pushing her against the front door. He smirked down at her, amusement lighting his eyes and behind that, the hungry, passionate, look that she'd grown so familiar with over the last couple of days, "Gotcha."
Buffy smiled up at him from beneath her lowered lashes, her hazel eyes darkening as a small pout began to form on her face, "Only because I let you."
Spike stared down at her at mock sternness, his gaze slipping from the depths of her eyes to the sight of her protruding lip, "Tsk, tsk. Haven't you heard that it's poor form for a Slayer to give herself up to her enemies so easily?"
Buffy shrugged and pressed against him, her voice lowering to a seductive note as her own gaze settled on the smooth stretch of his mouth, "Maybe I like being captured." Spike let out a low growl as the lightness of the situation quickly dissipated to be replaced something heavier. Buffy leaned into him, her mouth teasing his with a warm promise, when she spoke he could feel every word she said, "Aren't you going to eat me up?"
His mouth met hers in a hard kiss that sent shivers down her back. She sighed and molded her body more tightly to his familiar form, her hands going around his neck as her hips rocked suggestively against his. She felt Spike tense and then relax under her ministrations, the large bulge settling comfortingly on her lower stomach. The tip of his tongue brushed against her lips, seeking entrance, and she granted it, taking him inside her. One wayward hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, caressing the unrelenting muscles there before sliding across his abdomen to tease the space above his belt. Spike's hands tangled in her hair, as he let out a low groan, drawing her deeper into the kiss.
The sound of knocking broke them apart. Spike growled against her throat as he forced his desires under his control once more, "I'm going to bloody kill whoever it is." Buffy nodded and giving him one last chaste peck on the mouth pulled apart from him reluctantly. Putting on her best, 'no-really-you-didn't-bother-me-but-go-away' face she opened the door slowly only to have reluctant surprise and wariness slip onto her face. Behind her she felt Spike tense up, "What are you doing here?"