'Imperfect cry, scream in ecstasy,
So what befalls the flawless?
Look what I've built, it shines so beautifully,
Now watch as it destroys me.'
"So basically what you're telling me is that Riley's got a bug up his ass and I'm supposed to magically remove it somehow?"
Graham fidgeted nervously in the light from the foyer, trying very hard not to let his uneasiness show. Gingerly, he nodded, "It's your fault anyway." The Slayer's eyes widened in disbelief and disgust and Graham cringed inwardly. He hadn't meant for it to come out that childish but, standing here in front of an immovable Slayer and Hostile 17 was quickly grating on his composure, "That's not how I meant it to sound."
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes, one pale hand coming up to rest idly against the Slayer's shoulder. Graham's eyes drifted towards the hand and the skin that it covered. For a few moments he watched mesmerized as the pale hand slipped around the sun kissed shoulder to sweep along the tanned column of her neck and, finally, bury itself in the golden strands of her hair. He looked up to find the Hostile's eyes fixated on him, his smirk growing broader. Deliberately he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on the bare expanse of the Slayer's shoulder; she shivered, her eyes drifting close for half of a moment; Graham recoiled as if struck.
"I can't believe you chose that -- that -- thing over Riley." Despite his embarrassment and nervousness his disgust made it out of his mouth, infusing every syllable with derision. Buffy's eyes narrowed, the hazel flashing dangerously. Behind her Spike stiffened, a trace of yellow marring the cerulean of his eyes. Graham swallowed and clenched his fists to refrain from taking an involuntary step backwards. Someone, he reasoned, had to say it sooner or later. Might as well be him.
Buffy took a step toward him and, despite his resolution not to let his fear show, he took a small step backwards.
"First," she began angrily, "You come here to blackmail me with photographs of me and Spike. What I want to know is what kind of sick pervert are you that you go around collecting that stuff? I mean, gross much? Obviously you're not getting enough if you have to stalk around graveyard taking pictures of couples. And, to top it off, the peeping tom tries to play matchmaker by forcing me to continue a relationship that is so dead it makes Spike look like poster boy for the living."
Graham shook his head, "I told you I didn't take the pictures! I found them on the desk of General Arthur --"
"And now," Buffy plowed on through his protests, "You show up on my doorstep demanding, yet again, that I place aside my own desires and needs to placate Riley's ego? And to top it off you insult me and my relationship with Spike. No one asked you to come here, so if you can't accept that we love each other, demon or not, then you can get out."
Angrily she turned on her heel and stalked back to Spike who brushed a comforting hand across the tense line of her shoulders, her face softened as she looked up at him. With a sigh she uncrossed her arms and brought her hands to the place where his jeans rested on his hips. Spike's hands swept through her hair, pulling her closer so that he could place a kiss on her forehead. Buffy's eyes drifted closed with another sigh, the hint of a smile coloring her lips.
Spike's eyes moved from Buffy's to pin Graham beneath his glare, "You best be going now. Go on, toddle home to Captain Cardboard, would you?" With that he turned back towards the Slayer, who leaned into his embrace with another warm smile. For a moment Graham stood staring at the couple in disbelief but no matter how he tried to convince himself that what he was seeing couldn't be real the hard facts remained: they were in love. It was so obvious that it stunned him. It was easy to convince himself before that it had been some terrible mistake when he'd seen the picture. After all, sex didn't necessarily equate love. But, seeing them together now, he couldn't hide the truth from his eyes.
Graham turned away from the couple and started toward the door. Behind him he could hear Buffy let out a long sigh as she moved deeper into Spike's embrace, oblivious to the Commando's departure. For a second Graham hovered over the doorknob, indecision and confusion marring his face before he turned around to find the hostile watching him, "You really love her, don't you?"
Spike felt Buffy stiffen in his arms as she drew in a deep breath, waiting for his answer as anxiously as the commando. Spike nodded, once, his eyes never straying from Graham's, "More than anything.'
Graham nodded back, swallowing, his gaze shifting from the vampire to the dark world outside the door, "Riley -- be careful of him. He's not like himself. He's angry and now, with the Initiative at his back, there's no telling what he'll do." With one final glance at the couple Graham closed the portal and started the long walk home in the night.
* * *
The young commando's in Riley's group hadn't thought it was possible for Riley's face to grow any colder than it already was, but as they watched Graham walk out of the house on Revello Drive Riley's expression turned from ice to something harder, darker and infinitely more hateful. "This," he said through clenched teeth, "complicates things." He watched a moment longer as Graham's tall figure disappeared around the street corner. Behind him he could hear the nervous shifting of the commandos. Their unease radiated off of them in waves; he had them frightened and that, he decided, was something he could definitely use to his advantage.
He turned back to face the group, who instantly righted themselves, their faces expressionless as they waited for his commands. No matter how uneasy he made them or how unconventional his orders were, Riley knew that they would follow them through. MacGruder had made sure of it. Riley smiled at them, a thin stiffening of the lips that tended to resemble a grimace more than anything else, "Change of plans, boys. We've got a traitor in our midst."
The soldiers eyed each other warily as Riley's proclamations sunk in. Raising his rifle he pointed in the direction Graham had gone in, "It's time our good friend Graham learned what brotherhood and the Initiative are all about."
* * *
She kissed him softly, his lips gliding softly over hers as they leaned against the staircase in the hallway. The night was quiet around them as they embraced in the semi-darkness. Buffy sighed as his hand slid around the curve of her face, his long fingers tangling in the threads of her hair, his mouth slanting across hers slowly as he drew out the kiss until she was on the verge of sobbing from the sensations. Her nipples ached beneath the thin fabric of her cotton tee and she could feel the familiar wetness pooling between her legs.
Restlessly, her hand slid from the white pillar of his neck to the softened of his hair, to the harsh midnight planes of his face. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders before scraping lightly down his back. Spike shivered, his other hand coming down to the cup the aching mound of one breast. Buffy broke the kiss to draw in a deep breath, her back arching involuntarily as his thumb circled the tight bud, teasing the sensitive skin into a frenzy. Softly, he brushed the pad of his finger across her nipple as her head fell back, her eyes half closed as her mouth parted in ecstasy. He continued to caress her there, drawing from her the small whimpers and sighs of her pleasure. Her arousal surrounded him and he slid beneath it's relentless force, losing himself in the feeling of touching, possessing, pleasing her.
* * *
He was being followed.
Sticking his hands into his pocket, he fondled the sharp blade of his pocketknife as well as the smooth wood of his customary stake. No matter what the threat was he felt more than ready to meet it. But first, he plotted, first I have to draw it out. Adopting an unassuming air he slipped into the dark and deserted park. He kept his pace slow and measured as he made his way up the gentle slope of the grassy hill that rose before him. The smell of wet grass assaulted his nose and the moon hung heavy and yellow in the sky above him. For a moment, Graham paused atop the grassy mound, absorbing the moonlight, before continuing down the other side.
The faint sound of rustling reached his ears and Graham gently eased the knife out of his pocket and flipped the blade open. Whatever it was, it was getting restless. Behind him he could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps and he tensed, preparing for battle. Without warning he turned around to face his enemy, his knife still hidden in his hand.
Before him stood Riley, his normally boyish face hardened and cold as he surveyed Graham, "Graham."
Graham swallowed nervously, his eyes scanning his surroundings carefully as he took in the heavy black gun that hung from Riley's arm, "Riley? What's going n?"
Riley smiled coolly and raised the gun with a shrug, "Just taking care of business."
Graham never even saw him pull the trigger.
* * *
'To break down, and cease all feeling,
Burn now, what once was breathing,
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.'
Spike's mouth found hers again, his hands sliding beneath her shirt; her hands twisting his. He parted for a moment, long enough to tug the fabric over her head and for her to do likewise with him. Her hands touched his gently, gliding along the expanse of his chest and stomach like a whisper. She kissed the side of his neck, the spot where his shoulder and throat joined, and then took one of his nipples in her mouth. Spike groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair as her mouth traced a trail from one nipple to the other and down his chest.
Gently, Spike pulled her back up to him, bringing her mouth to his, her breasts against the hard planes of his chest. She whimpered at the contact, pressed closer against him, desperation seizing her as they kissed, touched, melded. Her jeans slid to the floor and his followed. Her hands traced him, worshipped him, memorized him and the marble sandpaper feel of his cool skin. Her eyes fluttered opened as they kissed, as he turned around and pushed her against the wall.
His were a storm as his hand found her wetness and traced her throbbing bud. His lashes cast long shadows across his eyes as his mouth parted to taste the skin of her neck, the fullness of a breast, the curve of her belly and the apex of her thigh. His needless breath was warm against her; such an odd thing, she thought, for someone who's body is so cold; and then his mouth found her center and all thought faded away under him.
* * *
Graham stumbled as the bullet lodged in his shoulder. His vision blurred as the ground slipped beneath his feet. He fell numbly to one knee, one hand clutching the wound where he could feel the heavy red river of his blood trickling out beneath his palm, "What the fuck?" Riley's boot connected with his face, sending Graham sprawling on the wet grass, mixing dew with his blood. He struggled past the pain, fighting away the blackness that hovered on the edge of his vision. Rough hands grabbed him and pushed him up where he swayed aimlessly as a punch connected with his chin, sending him to his knees.
Riley stood before him, his gun slung casually over his shoulder, "Why did you go see her today Graham?"
Graham opened his mouth to spit, "To find out what happened --"
Riley's fist connected with his head again, "What happened was that she was fucking a hostile?" When Graham didn't reply Riley knelt down before the soldier, "Was she fucking you too, buddy? is that it? Is that why you turned?"
Graham shook his head and swayed, his fingers tightening around the handle of his knife, "You're crazy, man."
Riley smiled and hit him again, "I hope she was good enough to die for because that's all that's left for you now."
Graham shook his head and swayed forward, gathering all his strength as he looked Riley in the eye, "I'm sorry, Riley." A surprised look crossed Riley's face but before he could react Graham lunged at him, knocking him backwards and sending them rolling down the rest of his hill. He brought his knife up only to have Riley grab his wrist. Graham kicked, the knife falling as Riley's grip faltered barely missing an eye as it slashed across his face. Riley let out a howl of indignation and twisting violently, knocked the knife out of Graham's hand. Desperately, Graham brought his hands down to Riley's face, hitting the soldier as he scrambled upward, heaving two violent kicks into Riley's side. Behind him he could hear the rustle of the squadron moving in on them. A bullet whizzed past his ear and he took of running, desperate to reach Revello Drive before it was too late.
* * *
It was all about the closeness, the perfect intimacy as he slid home, his hands meeting hers, their mouths coming together in a shared breath as they moved, swallowed, tasted, slipped inside each other. They were intimately aware of each and every touch, each stroke, each whispered sigh as they joined again and again in the time old reunion. The beat of Buffy's heart was staccato under Spike's hand, her breath moist against his mouth, her eyes half closed beneath the golden crescent moons of her lashes.
She sunk into him, mouthing words against his ear, whispering promises against his chest, tracing I love yous against the softness of his mouth. He followed her in her explorations, his face rippling against the column of her neck, his voice low as he answered her call, brought her to her peak and opened her like a flower. He pledged himself in every stroke, every kiss, in the sharp prick of his teeth tracing her skin as her head bent to the side and she offered herself to him.
She fragmented when he took it, pulled her inside him even as she climbed in his skin, a thousand broken images and impressions and sounds floating through her as he drank, claimed, possessed her. His climax followed hers down the deep mazes of her mind, the unlocked doors of her blood.
When ti was finished they still stood together, entwined in the hallway, their breath coming hard and forced. They kissed softly, carefully, their eyes wide open in the embrace as he slipped from inside her, whispered, "I love you" in her ear. Heard her reply before she stiffened, pulled away, her eye's glancing toward the door, "Something's not right."
He nodded, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising in anticipation. Quickly she pulled away from him, reaching for her clothes as she threw his at him, hurriedly dressing to met the impending storm that they knew they would have to weather. She opened the door before the first knock even finished, closing it rapidly as a bruised and bleeding Graham stumbled in and fell to the floor, a single name escaping from his mouth as he bled all over her wooden floor and the denim of her jeans, "Riley."
So what befalls the flawless?
Look what I've built, it shines so beautifully,
Now watch as it destroys me.'
"So basically what you're telling me is that Riley's got a bug up his ass and I'm supposed to magically remove it somehow?"
Graham fidgeted nervously in the light from the foyer, trying very hard not to let his uneasiness show. Gingerly, he nodded, "It's your fault anyway." The Slayer's eyes widened in disbelief and disgust and Graham cringed inwardly. He hadn't meant for it to come out that childish but, standing here in front of an immovable Slayer and Hostile 17 was quickly grating on his composure, "That's not how I meant it to sound."
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes, one pale hand coming up to rest idly against the Slayer's shoulder. Graham's eyes drifted towards the hand and the skin that it covered. For a few moments he watched mesmerized as the pale hand slipped around the sun kissed shoulder to sweep along the tanned column of her neck and, finally, bury itself in the golden strands of her hair. He looked up to find the Hostile's eyes fixated on him, his smirk growing broader. Deliberately he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on the bare expanse of the Slayer's shoulder; she shivered, her eyes drifting close for half of a moment; Graham recoiled as if struck.
"I can't believe you chose that -- that -- thing over Riley." Despite his embarrassment and nervousness his disgust made it out of his mouth, infusing every syllable with derision. Buffy's eyes narrowed, the hazel flashing dangerously. Behind her Spike stiffened, a trace of yellow marring the cerulean of his eyes. Graham swallowed and clenched his fists to refrain from taking an involuntary step backwards. Someone, he reasoned, had to say it sooner or later. Might as well be him.
Buffy took a step toward him and, despite his resolution not to let his fear show, he took a small step backwards.
"First," she began angrily, "You come here to blackmail me with photographs of me and Spike. What I want to know is what kind of sick pervert are you that you go around collecting that stuff? I mean, gross much? Obviously you're not getting enough if you have to stalk around graveyard taking pictures of couples. And, to top it off, the peeping tom tries to play matchmaker by forcing me to continue a relationship that is so dead it makes Spike look like poster boy for the living."
Graham shook his head, "I told you I didn't take the pictures! I found them on the desk of General Arthur --"
"And now," Buffy plowed on through his protests, "You show up on my doorstep demanding, yet again, that I place aside my own desires and needs to placate Riley's ego? And to top it off you insult me and my relationship with Spike. No one asked you to come here, so if you can't accept that we love each other, demon or not, then you can get out."
Angrily she turned on her heel and stalked back to Spike who brushed a comforting hand across the tense line of her shoulders, her face softened as she looked up at him. With a sigh she uncrossed her arms and brought her hands to the place where his jeans rested on his hips. Spike's hands swept through her hair, pulling her closer so that he could place a kiss on her forehead. Buffy's eyes drifted closed with another sigh, the hint of a smile coloring her lips.
Spike's eyes moved from Buffy's to pin Graham beneath his glare, "You best be going now. Go on, toddle home to Captain Cardboard, would you?" With that he turned back towards the Slayer, who leaned into his embrace with another warm smile. For a moment Graham stood staring at the couple in disbelief but no matter how he tried to convince himself that what he was seeing couldn't be real the hard facts remained: they were in love. It was so obvious that it stunned him. It was easy to convince himself before that it had been some terrible mistake when he'd seen the picture. After all, sex didn't necessarily equate love. But, seeing them together now, he couldn't hide the truth from his eyes.
Graham turned away from the couple and started toward the door. Behind him he could hear Buffy let out a long sigh as she moved deeper into Spike's embrace, oblivious to the Commando's departure. For a second Graham hovered over the doorknob, indecision and confusion marring his face before he turned around to find the hostile watching him, "You really love her, don't you?"
Spike felt Buffy stiffen in his arms as she drew in a deep breath, waiting for his answer as anxiously as the commando. Spike nodded, once, his eyes never straying from Graham's, "More than anything.'
Graham nodded back, swallowing, his gaze shifting from the vampire to the dark world outside the door, "Riley -- be careful of him. He's not like himself. He's angry and now, with the Initiative at his back, there's no telling what he'll do." With one final glance at the couple Graham closed the portal and started the long walk home in the night.
* * *
The young commando's in Riley's group hadn't thought it was possible for Riley's face to grow any colder than it already was, but as they watched Graham walk out of the house on Revello Drive Riley's expression turned from ice to something harder, darker and infinitely more hateful. "This," he said through clenched teeth, "complicates things." He watched a moment longer as Graham's tall figure disappeared around the street corner. Behind him he could hear the nervous shifting of the commandos. Their unease radiated off of them in waves; he had them frightened and that, he decided, was something he could definitely use to his advantage.
He turned back to face the group, who instantly righted themselves, their faces expressionless as they waited for his commands. No matter how uneasy he made them or how unconventional his orders were, Riley knew that they would follow them through. MacGruder had made sure of it. Riley smiled at them, a thin stiffening of the lips that tended to resemble a grimace more than anything else, "Change of plans, boys. We've got a traitor in our midst."
The soldiers eyed each other warily as Riley's proclamations sunk in. Raising his rifle he pointed in the direction Graham had gone in, "It's time our good friend Graham learned what brotherhood and the Initiative are all about."
* * *
She kissed him softly, his lips gliding softly over hers as they leaned against the staircase in the hallway. The night was quiet around them as they embraced in the semi-darkness. Buffy sighed as his hand slid around the curve of her face, his long fingers tangling in the threads of her hair, his mouth slanting across hers slowly as he drew out the kiss until she was on the verge of sobbing from the sensations. Her nipples ached beneath the thin fabric of her cotton tee and she could feel the familiar wetness pooling between her legs.
Restlessly, her hand slid from the white pillar of his neck to the softened of his hair, to the harsh midnight planes of his face. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders before scraping lightly down his back. Spike shivered, his other hand coming down to the cup the aching mound of one breast. Buffy broke the kiss to draw in a deep breath, her back arching involuntarily as his thumb circled the tight bud, teasing the sensitive skin into a frenzy. Softly, he brushed the pad of his finger across her nipple as her head fell back, her eyes half closed as her mouth parted in ecstasy. He continued to caress her there, drawing from her the small whimpers and sighs of her pleasure. Her arousal surrounded him and he slid beneath it's relentless force, losing himself in the feeling of touching, possessing, pleasing her.
* * *
He was being followed.
Sticking his hands into his pocket, he fondled the sharp blade of his pocketknife as well as the smooth wood of his customary stake. No matter what the threat was he felt more than ready to meet it. But first, he plotted, first I have to draw it out. Adopting an unassuming air he slipped into the dark and deserted park. He kept his pace slow and measured as he made his way up the gentle slope of the grassy hill that rose before him. The smell of wet grass assaulted his nose and the moon hung heavy and yellow in the sky above him. For a moment, Graham paused atop the grassy mound, absorbing the moonlight, before continuing down the other side.
The faint sound of rustling reached his ears and Graham gently eased the knife out of his pocket and flipped the blade open. Whatever it was, it was getting restless. Behind him he could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps and he tensed, preparing for battle. Without warning he turned around to face his enemy, his knife still hidden in his hand.
Before him stood Riley, his normally boyish face hardened and cold as he surveyed Graham, "Graham."
Graham swallowed nervously, his eyes scanning his surroundings carefully as he took in the heavy black gun that hung from Riley's arm, "Riley? What's going n?"
Riley smiled coolly and raised the gun with a shrug, "Just taking care of business."
Graham never even saw him pull the trigger.
* * *
'To break down, and cease all feeling,
Burn now, what once was breathing,
Reach out, and you may take my heart away.'
Spike's mouth found hers again, his hands sliding beneath her shirt; her hands twisting his. He parted for a moment, long enough to tug the fabric over her head and for her to do likewise with him. Her hands touched his gently, gliding along the expanse of his chest and stomach like a whisper. She kissed the side of his neck, the spot where his shoulder and throat joined, and then took one of his nipples in her mouth. Spike groaned and threaded his fingers through her hair as her mouth traced a trail from one nipple to the other and down his chest.
Gently, Spike pulled her back up to him, bringing her mouth to his, her breasts against the hard planes of his chest. She whimpered at the contact, pressed closer against him, desperation seizing her as they kissed, touched, melded. Her jeans slid to the floor and his followed. Her hands traced him, worshipped him, memorized him and the marble sandpaper feel of his cool skin. Her eyes fluttered opened as they kissed, as he turned around and pushed her against the wall.
His were a storm as his hand found her wetness and traced her throbbing bud. His lashes cast long shadows across his eyes as his mouth parted to taste the skin of her neck, the fullness of a breast, the curve of her belly and the apex of her thigh. His needless breath was warm against her; such an odd thing, she thought, for someone who's body is so cold; and then his mouth found her center and all thought faded away under him.
* * *
Graham stumbled as the bullet lodged in his shoulder. His vision blurred as the ground slipped beneath his feet. He fell numbly to one knee, one hand clutching the wound where he could feel the heavy red river of his blood trickling out beneath his palm, "What the fuck?" Riley's boot connected with his face, sending Graham sprawling on the wet grass, mixing dew with his blood. He struggled past the pain, fighting away the blackness that hovered on the edge of his vision. Rough hands grabbed him and pushed him up where he swayed aimlessly as a punch connected with his chin, sending him to his knees.
Riley stood before him, his gun slung casually over his shoulder, "Why did you go see her today Graham?"
Graham opened his mouth to spit, "To find out what happened --"
Riley's fist connected with his head again, "What happened was that she was fucking a hostile?" When Graham didn't reply Riley knelt down before the soldier, "Was she fucking you too, buddy? is that it? Is that why you turned?"
Graham shook his head and swayed, his fingers tightening around the handle of his knife, "You're crazy, man."
Riley smiled and hit him again, "I hope she was good enough to die for because that's all that's left for you now."
Graham shook his head and swayed forward, gathering all his strength as he looked Riley in the eye, "I'm sorry, Riley." A surprised look crossed Riley's face but before he could react Graham lunged at him, knocking him backwards and sending them rolling down the rest of his hill. He brought his knife up only to have Riley grab his wrist. Graham kicked, the knife falling as Riley's grip faltered barely missing an eye as it slashed across his face. Riley let out a howl of indignation and twisting violently, knocked the knife out of Graham's hand. Desperately, Graham brought his hands down to Riley's face, hitting the soldier as he scrambled upward, heaving two violent kicks into Riley's side. Behind him he could hear the rustle of the squadron moving in on them. A bullet whizzed past his ear and he took of running, desperate to reach Revello Drive before it was too late.
* * *
It was all about the closeness, the perfect intimacy as he slid home, his hands meeting hers, their mouths coming together in a shared breath as they moved, swallowed, tasted, slipped inside each other. They were intimately aware of each and every touch, each stroke, each whispered sigh as they joined again and again in the time old reunion. The beat of Buffy's heart was staccato under Spike's hand, her breath moist against his mouth, her eyes half closed beneath the golden crescent moons of her lashes.
She sunk into him, mouthing words against his ear, whispering promises against his chest, tracing I love yous against the softness of his mouth. He followed her in her explorations, his face rippling against the column of her neck, his voice low as he answered her call, brought her to her peak and opened her like a flower. He pledged himself in every stroke, every kiss, in the sharp prick of his teeth tracing her skin as her head bent to the side and she offered herself to him.
She fragmented when he took it, pulled her inside him even as she climbed in his skin, a thousand broken images and impressions and sounds floating through her as he drank, claimed, possessed her. His climax followed hers down the deep mazes of her mind, the unlocked doors of her blood.
When ti was finished they still stood together, entwined in the hallway, their breath coming hard and forced. They kissed softly, carefully, their eyes wide open in the embrace as he slipped from inside her, whispered, "I love you" in her ear. Heard her reply before she stiffened, pulled away, her eye's glancing toward the door, "Something's not right."
He nodded, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rising in anticipation. Quickly she pulled away from him, reaching for her clothes as she threw his at him, hurriedly dressing to met the impending storm that they knew they would have to weather. She opened the door before the first knock even finished, closing it rapidly as a bruised and bleeding Graham stumbled in and fell to the floor, a single name escaping from his mouth as he bled all over her wooden floor and the denim of her jeans, "Riley."