Ok, well Here is the TAME sequel to Drunk as a Skunk. Believe me,
this is not my natural state of being, but Mary bet me I couldn't
un-smut what I had dreamed up, this is the result (its about a third of
the length of the original, and not nearly so .. interesting.. But hey,
doesn't allow the juicy stuff anymore, and this does finish up
the arc I guess. Smutty Version available if you want it tho :)
The Morning After The Night Before
She had been dreaming quite pleasantly, she and Spike were happy, then Angel had come and she had tried to tell him that she was never his, she was herself, and she wanted Spike. Then Spike had smothered her in his cool embrace and she relaxed only to realise that something hurt.. A lot.
In OUCH out OUCH in OUCH out OUCH.
what the hell hurts OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH
thinking hurts? I just knew it was a bad thing OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH
In OUCH out OUCH in OUCH out OUCH.
She cracked her eyes open, the dim light that entered through the heavily draped room made her groan in pain, the groan made pain radiate to her head, the pain in her head made the hurt pulse through her body, which made her head hurt all the more.
Closing her eyes, she decided that she would wait before trying that again and tried to relax into the covers again. It was then that the soft feel of silk against her skin registered. She sat up straight eyes wide open.
"OWWW MY FUCKING HEAD" she Thunderously whispered hanging her head into her hands as she brought her knees up to her chest.
"Something the matter pet" asked a voice that WASN'T there, from the place that he wasn't laying on the bed, which he wasn't on right next to her. He wasn't there, he wasn't wasn't wasn't there. she repeated through her skull, that she was rapidly wishing would just rip in two and save her the pain.
"Your not there right" she asked in a pained voice.
"I surely am pet" he replied with a grin.
"And this is your bed?"
"Yep"
"And. I'm. Naked?"
"ooo yeah"
"And I'm here why?"
"You insisted"
"Oh fuck"
"Again?"
"What?" she asked as she whipped round to face him. But he just smirked at her. She could feel the sting of tears as her eyes became glassy.
"I.. I .. I have to be an elsewhere" she mumbled as she gathered the sheet around her, and walked towards his bathroom. Turning on the shower before she collapsed on the toilet to have a good cry.
Spike lit up a cigarette, and sauntered into his kitchen to grab some liquid refreshment and read the paper for a few minutes.. then he'd go and break the bad news to the slayer.
"I .. I .. oh god what have I done" Buffy asked herself as she tried desperately to drag up what had happened to her last night. She remembered getting kicked out of Willies sometime after LOTS of alcohol and she remembered talking to some annoying smiley kid. But she couldn't think of ANY way that she would end up in Spikes bed.
"Its not meant to happen this way" she choked out as she curled into a ball under the spray of the shower. He's meant to care the same way about me first, then maybe date for a while. I really fucked things up. He's just going to think that I am some, slut. she thought dejectedly as she cried into the steam that shrouded around her.
Spike tried to read the paper, but memories of the night before kept invading his thoughts, in the end he just allowed himself to reminisce. When they had finally got to the front door of the cluster of flats that Spike owned, rented out and also lived in, Buffy had spent several long minutes trying to put the key in the key hole, refusing to let him do it, eventually giving up in a gale of laughter and allowing him to open the door.
The two one time mortal enemies shared the entire top floor, all neatly walled off of course, with a shared gym in the divide. It was a nice arrangement that kept them out of each other's hair, unless they felt like being in each other's hair at which time they could fight together. However the two had become reluctant friends, and tended to keep fights to the gym, practical jokes were still fair game though.
As Spike half dragged half carried the slayer up the three flights of stairs gotta get that lift fixed she had begun to zone out, and about a dozen steps from the main door she had demanded to stop, hung her head between her legs as she refused to go any further.
"Come on pet, we are nearly home, then you can get into your nice warm bed" Spike had soothed.
"Spike, I don't feel so good" she had said as she looked up at him, tears' hanging off her lashes eyes big and confused.
"That's cos you drank twice your weight in whiskey luv" he said affectionately, brushing away a strand of her blond hair.
"Don't feel good" she had sobbed.
Spike wasn't a complete git, and at just that very moment, he wanted nothing to do but take care of her. Unlike her, he knew what feelings he felt, and he knew he felt them, and was just too much a chicken to tell her, however she wasn't ready to make that jump, and so they continued with their little games, sexual tension building and building.
"Its okay Buffy, I'll take care of you." And he had.
But when they were finally in his apartment she had started to strip off as she stumbled towards his room, much to his combined horror and delight. He had dreamed of seeing Buffy naked from pretty much the first moment he had seen her in the Bronze, of course initially amongst the nakedness there was a lot of blood and torture. Then he had seen her fight, seen the passion and fun she had with it, and the first seeds of lust were sown, still with lots of blood, and gloating and general murderous delight. By the time Angelus and Dru were ready to set Acathla loose he was almost to the point where just a little blood play was involved. His undoing had come when he'd been roped into helping the little chit. It had taken maybe a week of seeing her daily, talking to her, laughing and fighting with her, to not give a shit about blood anymore, and maybe another week to realise he was in mortal danger again, of loosing his heart, not too long after that, he knew he was lost.
However, while 'little Spike' was enjoying the view, he wouldn't just take advantage of her like that, he couldn't. And that's where the horrified part came in, she was going to hate him for this in the morning, he could just see it.
She had literally made herself at home in his home, which rankled him a bit. Stripping as she made her way to his room, then she had slid into 'his' covers, mumbled a good night, heaved a happy sigh and started snoring.
Unfortunately she hadn't lasted much more than half an hour before she snapped awake and dashed to his bathroom and prayed fervently to the porcelain gods. Then he had had the fun task of cleaning the bits she had missed.
He heaved a sigh, the frightening thing was that Spike, 'William The Bloody', master vampire, scourge of Europe and Killer of three slayers Damned watchers didn't see that one he chuckled to himself. He didn't mind doing any of it, Ponce that he was he hadn't minded at all.
He had considered sleeping on the couch, but his selflessness only went so far. He loved his bed, and the idea of spending the night in it with the girl of his dreams, no matter how chaste the activities would be, was just too tempting. So he had stripped down to his black boxers, which had little Tweety's being chased by Sylvester's embroidered along the waist and slipped into one of the best nights sleep of his unlife.
It was the whack to his stomach that had awoken him, Buffy wrapped in a dream had turned over sharply, and he could see the remains of a smile on her face, slowly fading. Then amongst the mumbles the word angel had slipped out. It had rammed him through the heart like a stake, and hurt more than a holy water bath. As she slowly regained consciousness he quietly seethed, then taunted. Unaware that his taunts would have such a devastating effect on the hung over slayer.
"Where is she anyway" he asked no one in particular. The elation he had felt knowing he caused her some degree of pain was fading rapidly. In fact a kind of guilt, that by its mere existence was pissing him off, seep into him.
She wasn't in the sitting room, where he expecting her to go, she hadn't come through the kitchen, so she couldn't have left the flat. She wasn't in the study, the gym or the bedroom. Which meant she was still in the bathroom?
"Slayer?" he knocked.
Nothing but the steady rhythm of the shower.
"Pet?"
The steady pulse of the shower, and the buzz of the extractor fan.
"Buffy?"
The steady pulse of the shower, the extractor fan and the muffled sounds of sobbing.
This broke through Spike, the small muffled sounds of his loves suffering. With all his strength he heaved his fist through the wooden door, splinters searing through his flesh. Unable to reach the locking mechanism, he heaved his entire body at the door, which splintered off the wall. Demon at the forefront, his yellow eyes darted around the expansive bathroom, seeing no imminent danger it retreated, his panicked human face rising to the fore.
"Slayer?" he whispered harshly, moving towards the shower curtain. There huddled in the bottom of the bathtub, being assaulted by a steady stream of scorching water, sat a red sobbing form, his slayer shaking from the force of her turmoil.
"Buffy, what is it, what's the matter? Are you hurt?" Spike asked as he turned off the scolding water and lifted her dripping form out of the tub. He got no reply, she just kept rocking slightly and sobbing.
Taking her into his room, he sat her gently on the bed and ran to get a towel. Gently taking her legs and arms he began to dry away the wetness, as she just sat there unresponsive.
"Come off I slayer, talk to Me." The number of times you refused to shut up and now you are, I just want you to talk again. He sighed deeply. Now what the fuck do I do?
Was this another chocolate thing?
Should he call willow?
Call Joyce?
He was a man, once, he just wasn't equipped to deal with this.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
"Buffy? Talk to me, bitch me out, do something. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. None of it happened. Come on Buffy, snap out of it and kick my arse. Come on. Shit. Slayer, I'm not kidding now, you have got me worried. You should know id never do that, not to you. Its just that, you were dreaming about him, and I just wanted, I don't know what I wanted, you to hurt like I did. Come on Buffy wake up" he gushed as he rocked her back and forth. "Slayer... Buffy come back to me. Come on ducks kick my arse, I know you want to.. I'll even let you be on top. Come on, I love you you bloody pain wake up..." he mumbled into her damp hair as he rocked her back and forth with his eyes closed.
It was like she was in a dream, one of those nasty ones that you just cant wake up from, where there's something chasing you, and you just know that its not going to let you awaken till just as the bony fingers snatch at your flesh, or the razor sharp teeth graze painfully along your flesh. At first she wanted to wake up so she could run, to her own place and shut him out, then she realised that she was naked, and she wanted to thump Spike so hard for touching her, for holding her when she had no clothes on, her tears long spent. Then she didn't want to wake up, hell if this was a dream she didn't mind it at all. He sounded a bit sappy for her Spike, but still she could deal.
Then she was awake. There was no way he said what she thought he said, so she just lay there, being rocked by him, and he continued to say things that he "couldn't" be saying. And her tears started again.
"Buffy wake up, I'm sorry. You can punish me later I promise, talk to me love, stay with me." His voice was cracking, he hurt, and this wasn't what he had wanted to happen. He hadn't wanted to hurt her like this, he was just going to make her confused, then laugh as she blushed.
"Spike?"
"Spike I'm getting sea sick down here." She smiled as his arms tightened around her.
"Don't ever scare me like that again Buff" Spike mumbled vehemently into her hair.
"Remind me to kick your ass later Spike"
"If you insist Slayer, if you insist."
End
The Morning After The Night Before
She had been dreaming quite pleasantly, she and Spike were happy, then Angel had come and she had tried to tell him that she was never his, she was herself, and she wanted Spike. Then Spike had smothered her in his cool embrace and she relaxed only to realise that something hurt.. A lot.
In OUCH out OUCH in OUCH out OUCH.
what the hell hurts OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH
thinking hurts? I just knew it was a bad thing OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH
In OUCH out OUCH in OUCH out OUCH.
She cracked her eyes open, the dim light that entered through the heavily draped room made her groan in pain, the groan made pain radiate to her head, the pain in her head made the hurt pulse through her body, which made her head hurt all the more.
Closing her eyes, she decided that she would wait before trying that again and tried to relax into the covers again. It was then that the soft feel of silk against her skin registered. She sat up straight eyes wide open.
"OWWW MY FUCKING HEAD" she Thunderously whispered hanging her head into her hands as she brought her knees up to her chest.
"Something the matter pet" asked a voice that WASN'T there, from the place that he wasn't laying on the bed, which he wasn't on right next to her. He wasn't there, he wasn't wasn't wasn't there. she repeated through her skull, that she was rapidly wishing would just rip in two and save her the pain.
"Your not there right" she asked in a pained voice.
"I surely am pet" he replied with a grin.
"And this is your bed?"
"Yep"
"And. I'm. Naked?"
"ooo yeah"
"And I'm here why?"
"You insisted"
"Oh fuck"
"Again?"
"What?" she asked as she whipped round to face him. But he just smirked at her. She could feel the sting of tears as her eyes became glassy.
"I.. I .. I have to be an elsewhere" she mumbled as she gathered the sheet around her, and walked towards his bathroom. Turning on the shower before she collapsed on the toilet to have a good cry.
Spike lit up a cigarette, and sauntered into his kitchen to grab some liquid refreshment and read the paper for a few minutes.. then he'd go and break the bad news to the slayer.
"I .. I .. oh god what have I done" Buffy asked herself as she tried desperately to drag up what had happened to her last night. She remembered getting kicked out of Willies sometime after LOTS of alcohol and she remembered talking to some annoying smiley kid. But she couldn't think of ANY way that she would end up in Spikes bed.
"Its not meant to happen this way" she choked out as she curled into a ball under the spray of the shower. He's meant to care the same way about me first, then maybe date for a while. I really fucked things up. He's just going to think that I am some, slut. she thought dejectedly as she cried into the steam that shrouded around her.
Spike tried to read the paper, but memories of the night before kept invading his thoughts, in the end he just allowed himself to reminisce. When they had finally got to the front door of the cluster of flats that Spike owned, rented out and also lived in, Buffy had spent several long minutes trying to put the key in the key hole, refusing to let him do it, eventually giving up in a gale of laughter and allowing him to open the door.
The two one time mortal enemies shared the entire top floor, all neatly walled off of course, with a shared gym in the divide. It was a nice arrangement that kept them out of each other's hair, unless they felt like being in each other's hair at which time they could fight together. However the two had become reluctant friends, and tended to keep fights to the gym, practical jokes were still fair game though.
As Spike half dragged half carried the slayer up the three flights of stairs gotta get that lift fixed she had begun to zone out, and about a dozen steps from the main door she had demanded to stop, hung her head between her legs as she refused to go any further.
"Come on pet, we are nearly home, then you can get into your nice warm bed" Spike had soothed.
"Spike, I don't feel so good" she had said as she looked up at him, tears' hanging off her lashes eyes big and confused.
"That's cos you drank twice your weight in whiskey luv" he said affectionately, brushing away a strand of her blond hair.
"Don't feel good" she had sobbed.
Spike wasn't a complete git, and at just that very moment, he wanted nothing to do but take care of her. Unlike her, he knew what feelings he felt, and he knew he felt them, and was just too much a chicken to tell her, however she wasn't ready to make that jump, and so they continued with their little games, sexual tension building and building.
"Its okay Buffy, I'll take care of you." And he had.
But when they were finally in his apartment she had started to strip off as she stumbled towards his room, much to his combined horror and delight. He had dreamed of seeing Buffy naked from pretty much the first moment he had seen her in the Bronze, of course initially amongst the nakedness there was a lot of blood and torture. Then he had seen her fight, seen the passion and fun she had with it, and the first seeds of lust were sown, still with lots of blood, and gloating and general murderous delight. By the time Angelus and Dru were ready to set Acathla loose he was almost to the point where just a little blood play was involved. His undoing had come when he'd been roped into helping the little chit. It had taken maybe a week of seeing her daily, talking to her, laughing and fighting with her, to not give a shit about blood anymore, and maybe another week to realise he was in mortal danger again, of loosing his heart, not too long after that, he knew he was lost.
However, while 'little Spike' was enjoying the view, he wouldn't just take advantage of her like that, he couldn't. And that's where the horrified part came in, she was going to hate him for this in the morning, he could just see it.
She had literally made herself at home in his home, which rankled him a bit. Stripping as she made her way to his room, then she had slid into 'his' covers, mumbled a good night, heaved a happy sigh and started snoring.
Unfortunately she hadn't lasted much more than half an hour before she snapped awake and dashed to his bathroom and prayed fervently to the porcelain gods. Then he had had the fun task of cleaning the bits she had missed.
He heaved a sigh, the frightening thing was that Spike, 'William The Bloody', master vampire, scourge of Europe and Killer of three slayers Damned watchers didn't see that one he chuckled to himself. He didn't mind doing any of it, Ponce that he was he hadn't minded at all.
He had considered sleeping on the couch, but his selflessness only went so far. He loved his bed, and the idea of spending the night in it with the girl of his dreams, no matter how chaste the activities would be, was just too tempting. So he had stripped down to his black boxers, which had little Tweety's being chased by Sylvester's embroidered along the waist and slipped into one of the best nights sleep of his unlife.
It was the whack to his stomach that had awoken him, Buffy wrapped in a dream had turned over sharply, and he could see the remains of a smile on her face, slowly fading. Then amongst the mumbles the word angel had slipped out. It had rammed him through the heart like a stake, and hurt more than a holy water bath. As she slowly regained consciousness he quietly seethed, then taunted. Unaware that his taunts would have such a devastating effect on the hung over slayer.
"Where is she anyway" he asked no one in particular. The elation he had felt knowing he caused her some degree of pain was fading rapidly. In fact a kind of guilt, that by its mere existence was pissing him off, seep into him.
She wasn't in the sitting room, where he expecting her to go, she hadn't come through the kitchen, so she couldn't have left the flat. She wasn't in the study, the gym or the bedroom. Which meant she was still in the bathroom?
"Slayer?" he knocked.
Nothing but the steady rhythm of the shower.
"Pet?"
The steady pulse of the shower, and the buzz of the extractor fan.
"Buffy?"
The steady pulse of the shower, the extractor fan and the muffled sounds of sobbing.
This broke through Spike, the small muffled sounds of his loves suffering. With all his strength he heaved his fist through the wooden door, splinters searing through his flesh. Unable to reach the locking mechanism, he heaved his entire body at the door, which splintered off the wall. Demon at the forefront, his yellow eyes darted around the expansive bathroom, seeing no imminent danger it retreated, his panicked human face rising to the fore.
"Slayer?" he whispered harshly, moving towards the shower curtain. There huddled in the bottom of the bathtub, being assaulted by a steady stream of scorching water, sat a red sobbing form, his slayer shaking from the force of her turmoil.
"Buffy, what is it, what's the matter? Are you hurt?" Spike asked as he turned off the scolding water and lifted her dripping form out of the tub. He got no reply, she just kept rocking slightly and sobbing.
Taking her into his room, he sat her gently on the bed and ran to get a towel. Gently taking her legs and arms he began to dry away the wetness, as she just sat there unresponsive.
"Come off I slayer, talk to Me." The number of times you refused to shut up and now you are, I just want you to talk again. He sighed deeply. Now what the fuck do I do?
Was this another chocolate thing?
Should he call willow?
Call Joyce?
He was a man, once, he just wasn't equipped to deal with this.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
"Buffy? Talk to me, bitch me out, do something. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. None of it happened. Come on Buffy, snap out of it and kick my arse. Come on. Shit. Slayer, I'm not kidding now, you have got me worried. You should know id never do that, not to you. Its just that, you were dreaming about him, and I just wanted, I don't know what I wanted, you to hurt like I did. Come on Buffy wake up" he gushed as he rocked her back and forth. "Slayer... Buffy come back to me. Come on ducks kick my arse, I know you want to.. I'll even let you be on top. Come on, I love you you bloody pain wake up..." he mumbled into her damp hair as he rocked her back and forth with his eyes closed.
It was like she was in a dream, one of those nasty ones that you just cant wake up from, where there's something chasing you, and you just know that its not going to let you awaken till just as the bony fingers snatch at your flesh, or the razor sharp teeth graze painfully along your flesh. At first she wanted to wake up so she could run, to her own place and shut him out, then she realised that she was naked, and she wanted to thump Spike so hard for touching her, for holding her when she had no clothes on, her tears long spent. Then she didn't want to wake up, hell if this was a dream she didn't mind it at all. He sounded a bit sappy for her Spike, but still she could deal.
Then she was awake. There was no way he said what she thought he said, so she just lay there, being rocked by him, and he continued to say things that he "couldn't" be saying. And her tears started again.
"Buffy wake up, I'm sorry. You can punish me later I promise, talk to me love, stay with me." His voice was cracking, he hurt, and this wasn't what he had wanted to happen. He hadn't wanted to hurt her like this, he was just going to make her confused, then laugh as she blushed.
"Spike?"
"Spike I'm getting sea sick down here." She smiled as his arms tightened around her.
"Don't ever scare me like that again Buff" Spike mumbled vehemently into her hair.
"Remind me to kick your ass later Spike"
"If you insist Slayer, if you insist."
End