Disclaimer: Why do I feel like I should write something funny here? Does
anyone even read these things? It's not mine.
AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!
Memories from Dust
Chapter Four: Getting to Know You
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Wearing a light brown, knee-length suede skirt and clean white shirt, I felt ten times better, if a bit sleepy.
"Sun's up." Spike said suddenly, although there was no way I could tell with the heavy curtains drawn.
He left, locking the door behind him, (he had found the key, so I no longer had to be tied up) and I climbed into the bed and under the green covers. Turned out that, surprise, surprise, it had green satin sheets, with matching green pillowcases.
With my head buried in the pillows, I was almost asleep when Spike came back into the room and slid into the other side of the bed.
I stiffened immediately. All the feelings of heat and lust I had felt lying on the floor with him over me were gone: now I could only see him as a killer, as someone with no concern for anyone of anything. The thought that I had wanted to go the whole way with a demon repulsed me, and this time, I told myself, this time I would resist him.
After all, how hard could it be?
But Spike didn't even glance at me. He has brought back with him a book of some sort, and had devoted all his attention to it.
Convinced he wasn't going to do anything, I was about to stop watching him out of the corner of my eye and try to get some sleep when he tossed the book aside and turned to me, smirk across his face as his blue eyes glittered.
"You still up for something?" He asked me, pulling himself over me.
I assumed whatever he was reading must have been pretty steamy. "I don't know what you're talking about." I told him sharply.
He laughed. "Playing stupid then, are you? Put it this way: I'm in the mood for a shag, how are you feelin'?"
I glared at him, but couldn't help thinking that a nice 'shag' wouldn't be that bad. "Why do you bother to ask me, aren't you just going to force yourself on me anyway?"
"But that wouldn't be half as fun."
"Then I guess you won't be getting your fun."
He laughed again. "C'mon now, I can tell you want me."
"No." I said, wanting him more then anything as he held himself above me with those beautiful strong arms, surveyed me hungrily with his clear blue eyes. "I don't want you; I don't want anything to do with you."
He brought his face right next to mine, whispering in my ear. "There must be something you want from me."
"Nothing." Oh god, I could smell him now.
"Your heart is pumping away, your blood's rushin', but I don' smell any fear."
"I don't—" I started. But what did it matter? I was probably going to die soon anyway. "Oh, fuck it all."
I pushed him onto his back, surprising him by pulling myself on top of him and grabbing for his lips with my own.
"You know what?" He said, as he pulled his tongue out of his mouth to help me wrestle off my shirt. "I like you."
I laughed as I kissed him, helping him with his shirt and feasting my eyes on his toned ivory chest. Curse the man who invented shirts. We fell into each other easily, keeping up a rhythm like we were meant for each other.
He whispered sweet nothings into my ear as he rocked back and forth, I gasped at the pleasure screaming through my body: good sex I had known before, but this, this was perfect.
* * * * *
I lay tangled in the sheets, head against Spike's chest as he played with a strand of my honey-brown hair.
He pulled an arm around my side, pulling me closer to him. I winced in pain, for the first time noticing the good-sized bruise on my side from where he had kicked me earlier.
"Did I do that to you?" He asked, fingering the bluish black spot delicately.
"Yeah."
He grimaced. "I just don't like to be called William."
I laughed. "I kind of got that. So why do the others call you William?"
"It was my name as a human."
I must have looked as confused as I felt, because he began to explain. "I wasn't born a vampire. I used t' be human, but then Dru came along, sucked me dry and right before I died fed me some 'f her blood."
"Were you different, as a human?" I asked, my hands tracing the lines on his stomach.
"You wouldn't believe how different." He said with a small laugh. "I was weak, timid, and I wanted to be a poet."
I suppressed a laugh. "I never would have guessed."
"I was William then. They used to call me 'William the Bloody', because of my bloody awful poetry." His hands were tensed now, gripping the bed covers.
"Where does 'Spike' come from?"
"Drove railroad Spikes into their heads." He said with a smirk, hands releasing their grip.
I decided not to think about that.
"So how about you?" He asked. "How'd you get into your . . . business."
"You mean why did I become a whore?"
"I told you my story."
"Well, my sister and I were the daughters of one of the richest noble's in the country—my parents never managed a son, but they seemed content enough with us."
"And then what happened?"
"My father was riding to another Lord's house, when his horse spooked. He was thrown from the saddle, and cracked his head open on a rock and died instantly. My mother had really loved my father, and when she heard the news she had a heart attack, and died only a week later."
"Must've been hard for you, pet." He said, stroking my cheek.
"Naturally, it was expected that the closest male relative would take over the family fortune. As they saw it, I was not just young, but I was a young girl . . . I wouldn't be able to handle economic affairs by myself." I continued. "The problem was, I had no known relatives, male or female. No one knew what to do, until he showed up."
"He?"
"Charles Abel. He came with papers—false papers—claiming that he was related, though distantly, to my mother. Well, the authorities were so glad to have finally found an acceptable heir, they didn't do much of a background check to make sure his claims were true. It was assumed that Charles would take care of me, and even if he didn't, it didn't really matter. I may have been pretty, but I wasn't important."
"Not pretty." Spike insisted. "Beautiful."
I smiled, in spite of the story I was telling. "Charles seemed to think so to. He told me he would provide for me only if I agreed to marry him."
"But you didn't."
"I was foolish. I would only marry for love, and I told him that. And so I was sent out onto the streets. When you're a girl of only 16 with no real skills or teaching, you've only got one job option."
"Do you regret it?" Spike asked, blue eyes staring into my brown ones and giving me the feeling he was trying to read my soul.
"Sometimes I don't. Charles is still unmarried. I may be selling my body to strangers, but he will never, ever, have me."
"And then sometimes I do regret it. My sister was only nine at the time, and I didn't know what had happened to her until last year, when I was told she had died of the measles. And I was so innocent, at 16. I was tossed into the big, bad world without knowing anything about it. The first man who took me was neither kind nor gentle, but he paid me enough for food and meager lodging. And that's where I've been for the past years."
I stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. "It was all so different then what I was used to. For the first time in my life, I felt unsafe, I felt vulnerable."
It was the first time I had told anyone my story (no one else had bothered to ask) and the tears were now leaking out of my eyes, even as I did my best to stop them.
"Shhhh." Spike comforted me. "Don' worry, luv. You're safe here."
"Spike, you're a vampire." I reminded him. "Plus, I just saw you kill three innocent people in under an hour. I'm hardly safe here."
"You've got a point." He said, running a hand over my face gently. "But if it makes you feel any better I'm not goin' t' kill you just yet."
I smiled weakly. "Maybe a little better."
He grinned, running his finger along my lip. He pulled me into a long, slow kiss and I melted into his embrace, forgetting all my troubles.
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Please Review!
AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!
Memories from Dust
Chapter Four: Getting to Know You
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Wearing a light brown, knee-length suede skirt and clean white shirt, I felt ten times better, if a bit sleepy.
"Sun's up." Spike said suddenly, although there was no way I could tell with the heavy curtains drawn.
He left, locking the door behind him, (he had found the key, so I no longer had to be tied up) and I climbed into the bed and under the green covers. Turned out that, surprise, surprise, it had green satin sheets, with matching green pillowcases.
With my head buried in the pillows, I was almost asleep when Spike came back into the room and slid into the other side of the bed.
I stiffened immediately. All the feelings of heat and lust I had felt lying on the floor with him over me were gone: now I could only see him as a killer, as someone with no concern for anyone of anything. The thought that I had wanted to go the whole way with a demon repulsed me, and this time, I told myself, this time I would resist him.
After all, how hard could it be?
But Spike didn't even glance at me. He has brought back with him a book of some sort, and had devoted all his attention to it.
Convinced he wasn't going to do anything, I was about to stop watching him out of the corner of my eye and try to get some sleep when he tossed the book aside and turned to me, smirk across his face as his blue eyes glittered.
"You still up for something?" He asked me, pulling himself over me.
I assumed whatever he was reading must have been pretty steamy. "I don't know what you're talking about." I told him sharply.
He laughed. "Playing stupid then, are you? Put it this way: I'm in the mood for a shag, how are you feelin'?"
I glared at him, but couldn't help thinking that a nice 'shag' wouldn't be that bad. "Why do you bother to ask me, aren't you just going to force yourself on me anyway?"
"But that wouldn't be half as fun."
"Then I guess you won't be getting your fun."
He laughed again. "C'mon now, I can tell you want me."
"No." I said, wanting him more then anything as he held himself above me with those beautiful strong arms, surveyed me hungrily with his clear blue eyes. "I don't want you; I don't want anything to do with you."
He brought his face right next to mine, whispering in my ear. "There must be something you want from me."
"Nothing." Oh god, I could smell him now.
"Your heart is pumping away, your blood's rushin', but I don' smell any fear."
"I don't—" I started. But what did it matter? I was probably going to die soon anyway. "Oh, fuck it all."
I pushed him onto his back, surprising him by pulling myself on top of him and grabbing for his lips with my own.
"You know what?" He said, as he pulled his tongue out of his mouth to help me wrestle off my shirt. "I like you."
I laughed as I kissed him, helping him with his shirt and feasting my eyes on his toned ivory chest. Curse the man who invented shirts. We fell into each other easily, keeping up a rhythm like we were meant for each other.
He whispered sweet nothings into my ear as he rocked back and forth, I gasped at the pleasure screaming through my body: good sex I had known before, but this, this was perfect.
* * * * *
I lay tangled in the sheets, head against Spike's chest as he played with a strand of my honey-brown hair.
He pulled an arm around my side, pulling me closer to him. I winced in pain, for the first time noticing the good-sized bruise on my side from where he had kicked me earlier.
"Did I do that to you?" He asked, fingering the bluish black spot delicately.
"Yeah."
He grimaced. "I just don't like to be called William."
I laughed. "I kind of got that. So why do the others call you William?"
"It was my name as a human."
I must have looked as confused as I felt, because he began to explain. "I wasn't born a vampire. I used t' be human, but then Dru came along, sucked me dry and right before I died fed me some 'f her blood."
"Were you different, as a human?" I asked, my hands tracing the lines on his stomach.
"You wouldn't believe how different." He said with a small laugh. "I was weak, timid, and I wanted to be a poet."
I suppressed a laugh. "I never would have guessed."
"I was William then. They used to call me 'William the Bloody', because of my bloody awful poetry." His hands were tensed now, gripping the bed covers.
"Where does 'Spike' come from?"
"Drove railroad Spikes into their heads." He said with a smirk, hands releasing their grip.
I decided not to think about that.
"So how about you?" He asked. "How'd you get into your . . . business."
"You mean why did I become a whore?"
"I told you my story."
"Well, my sister and I were the daughters of one of the richest noble's in the country—my parents never managed a son, but they seemed content enough with us."
"And then what happened?"
"My father was riding to another Lord's house, when his horse spooked. He was thrown from the saddle, and cracked his head open on a rock and died instantly. My mother had really loved my father, and when she heard the news she had a heart attack, and died only a week later."
"Must've been hard for you, pet." He said, stroking my cheek.
"Naturally, it was expected that the closest male relative would take over the family fortune. As they saw it, I was not just young, but I was a young girl . . . I wouldn't be able to handle economic affairs by myself." I continued. "The problem was, I had no known relatives, male or female. No one knew what to do, until he showed up."
"He?"
"Charles Abel. He came with papers—false papers—claiming that he was related, though distantly, to my mother. Well, the authorities were so glad to have finally found an acceptable heir, they didn't do much of a background check to make sure his claims were true. It was assumed that Charles would take care of me, and even if he didn't, it didn't really matter. I may have been pretty, but I wasn't important."
"Not pretty." Spike insisted. "Beautiful."
I smiled, in spite of the story I was telling. "Charles seemed to think so to. He told me he would provide for me only if I agreed to marry him."
"But you didn't."
"I was foolish. I would only marry for love, and I told him that. And so I was sent out onto the streets. When you're a girl of only 16 with no real skills or teaching, you've only got one job option."
"Do you regret it?" Spike asked, blue eyes staring into my brown ones and giving me the feeling he was trying to read my soul.
"Sometimes I don't. Charles is still unmarried. I may be selling my body to strangers, but he will never, ever, have me."
"And then sometimes I do regret it. My sister was only nine at the time, and I didn't know what had happened to her until last year, when I was told she had died of the measles. And I was so innocent, at 16. I was tossed into the big, bad world without knowing anything about it. The first man who took me was neither kind nor gentle, but he paid me enough for food and meager lodging. And that's where I've been for the past years."
I stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. "It was all so different then what I was used to. For the first time in my life, I felt unsafe, I felt vulnerable."
It was the first time I had told anyone my story (no one else had bothered to ask) and the tears were now leaking out of my eyes, even as I did my best to stop them.
"Shhhh." Spike comforted me. "Don' worry, luv. You're safe here."
"Spike, you're a vampire." I reminded him. "Plus, I just saw you kill three innocent people in under an hour. I'm hardly safe here."
"You've got a point." He said, running a hand over my face gently. "But if it makes you feel any better I'm not goin' t' kill you just yet."
I smiled weakly. "Maybe a little better."
He grinned, running his finger along my lip. He pulled me into a long, slow kiss and I melted into his embrace, forgetting all my troubles.
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Please Review!