Buffy wriggled into a more comfortable position on the bed, clutching the sheets to her as best she could and bringing her knees up in a move to protect herself by seeming as small as possible. She let her eyes roam down his swaying form to the bottle in his hand.
"Are you drunk?" She whispered quietly, afraid that if he really heard her questioning him he would turn violent.
"What if I am?" Spike slurred back at her defiantly.
"Nothing…just didn't think vampires…"
"There's a lot 'bout us you don't know…Miss High-and-mighty." He stumbled backwards a few steps and landed on the vanity table with a loud thud, knocking over the knick-knacks that resided on top of it.
Buffy watched the pain flicker across his face, a slight edge of disorientation in his eyes as he looked at his new position-his backside resting against the table.
He held the bottle up and stared at it. "Takes a little more…but we still get drunk."
"Why?" She frowned, unsure of why she felt the need to question his motives but feeling she had to do so all the same, no matter how much it could piss him off.
"Just 'cause." Spike frowned down at the table and pushed off it, wobbling to his feet before drinking down another mouthful of bourbon. He sucked his cheeks in and pursed his lips as he looked down at her, his expression hard as he thought about what she'd said to him earlier that day. "You know what…I don't know where you get off…"
"Huh?" Buffy looked confused, was she the reason he was now drunk beyond any mortal capacity?
"…Saying shit about me when look at you…hardly bloody perfect…stupid hair…stupid boyfriends…can't keep 'em though can you?" He stumbled towards her and grabbed hold of the corner post at the end of the bed. His expression darkened. "…Least I know who I am…"
Buffy's eyes widened as he chuckled at her, the sound of it and his words cutting into her heart like a knife. She knew he was only being spiteful but he'd hit too close to the mark that time.
"Shall I tell you something…Buffy?" Holding on tightly to the post, he swigged another mouthful from the bottle.
"Oh, please do. Enlighten me." Buffy sneered up at him, no longer caring if she angered him with her words.
He chuckled again.
"Always were feisty." Spike looked thoughtful. "Maybe that's the problem, too feisty for them?"
Buffy glared at him as he grinned down at her, even in his drunken state he seemed to be able to see straight through her and read her like she was an open book.
"I hate you."
"Keep telling yourself that." Spike drank the remains of his bourbon and ran his fingers lightly down the post as he stared at it dreamily. "You have…all that power…all that grace…but you push away from it. You're the strongest one I've met…you know? But you're the only one who won't accept who she was…who she is…you hide behind a mantle of lies…pretending to be someone that you know you aren't, hiding away from your true power…"
"True power?" Buffy frowned up at him as he stroked the post, almost caressing it as he continued to talk as if she hadn't even spoken.
"Did he tell you? Your precious Watcher…no…" Spike looked into her eyes and shook his head. "He didn't, did he?"
"Tell me what?" She cursed herself for actually being intrigued by what he was saying.
"You belong in the night, with the demons, with me." He smiled as her eyes widened, her horror and disgust showing through more than her confusion over what he was saying.
"No…I don't belong with you…you disgust me…"
Spike roared and threw the bottle hard at the wall.
Buffy flinched as she curled up into a ball and listened to glass raining down onto the floor. She could feel anger emanating from him, could feel it lacing his signature and it made her stomach turn.
"You're mine, Buffy…whether you accept it or not…I own you now."
"No…never…you can't own me…no one does." Buffy frowned at the words as they left her lips, no one owned her because she never let them, didn't let anyone get close enough to her that they could place a claim on her affections or her heart. Not since Angel.
With a lightning fast but somewhat uncoordinated movement, Spike was beside her, grasping her wrists tightly as he breathed heavily, struggling to make her open up and look at him.
"Look at me…" Spike growled and Buffy raised her eyes defiantly.
When he ran a finger lightly down her cheek Buffy furrowed her brows. Her body trembled and her wrist ached under the pressure of the tight grip he had on it.
"You belong in the night, Buffy…your power is rooted in it, rooted in evil. I've read what the Watchers keep hidden from you, hidden from all the girls they use. I know you, Buffy…I know what you are…the violence inside of you."
"No…" Buffy ground out harshly and pulled her wrist free from Spike's grip. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs as she struggled to brush aside what he was saying. "No…you don't know me…"
"You're right…" Spike relented and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked deep into her bright green orbs and watched them sparkle with fire. "I don't know you…because you don't even know yourself."
She swallowed hard as she looked into his eyes, his expression was cold and unemotional, and his eyes were hard and empty. Teasing her lip with her teeth, she didn't notice his gaze dropping to rest on her mouth, his look changing to fascination as he watched her.
It was wrong of her to be curious about what he'd been saying. Wrong of her to want to sit with him and ask him a million questions about the Slayers he'd fought and the things about her that he claimed to know. He was holding her captive, chained in a bedroom and she'd spent what could only be days studying his mood swings-how he could go from calm to berserk in an instant, a split second, not even the drop of a hat.
Raising her eyes up she realised he was watching her gnawing away at her lip, her teeth worrying it as she thought about what he'd said. His eyes were calm and tender as he watched her, intrigue clearly echoed in his expression. He was definitely drunk. Drunk beyond anything she'd imagined possible and now he was sitting just a foot from her.
Her heartbeat accelerated at that thought and she dropped her eyes to rest on where his knees were and the small gap between them and her feet. She was in more danger now than she'd ever been. Drunken humans were bad enough if you pissed them off, she dreaded to think what he would be capable of in his condition-one wrong move and he'd either kill her or worse.
The clinking of chains bought her attention to the fact she was subconsciously rubbing her wrists, and reminded her of the heavy restraints that held her captive and a victim of his will.
Spike let his eyes to rest on her hands. Her wrists were red raw where the manacles had been cutting into her soft flesh and he found himself staring blankly, dreamlike, at the small line of cuts that were bleeding from where she'd scratched them.
He growled.
Buffy's fingers froze.
Her heartbeat rocketed.
"So…tell me about um…vampires…" Buffy felt the bubble of panic explode in her stomach, her veins washing with full-blown fear as he licked his lips and moved his eyes to rest on her neck. "Clearly you've had too much to drink…really think you should carefully consider…"
"Oh, I've considered it, love…from the second I bought you in here, limp and unconscious in my arms I've been considering it…sweet taste of Slayer blood…yours is divine…real ambrosia, nectar of heaven…"
Buffy didn't like the sound of that.
"Really…thought you'd have more pressing matters like…oh…your minions revolting against you?" She'd heard the fights each night since she'd been here. The fact he hadn't left the lair was testament to how bad things were.
"Revolting…let them…I've got a pretty little Slayer…I can hire any demons I want with you all caged up…"
"Huh?"
"Leverage, pet…I threaten them with the release of you and suddenly everyone wants to work for old Spike." He grinned down at her and inhaled sharply. The scent of her fear was overwhelming, making his head spin worse than the alcohol had been.
Reaching a hand out he brushed the hair from her neck, watching her eyes widen with fear as he did so. The slight gasp she made as his cool fingers coursed down her neck was enough to make him ache inside. His whole being wanted to be close to her-inside her in one way or another.
Leaning forward, Spike noted with a smile that she didn't raise her hands to stop him, she just kept still like a scared rabbit as his lips brushed against her neck lightly.
"Spike…" Buffy furrowed her brows as she remained frozen, her heart beating rapidly and her shallow breathing her only movements. "Spike?"
She frowned.
He nuzzled her neck.
Buffy braced herself for him to bite her.
But it never came.
Craning her neck away from him she looked down out of the corner of her eye to see him slipping out of game face, his eyes closed as he snorted slightly in his sleep. She grimaced under the dead weight of him as he leant against her body, his hand playing on her side as he slumbered on.
"Great…pass out on me why don't you…" She tried to wriggle free of him but found him holding her tighter. Sighing out her breath, she winced as he pressed hard against her ribs, his body heavy against her slender frame. "…Christ you're heavy…stupid Spike…get the hell off me you…"
She blinked as she looked down at the pocket in his jeans, the outline of keys clearly visible through the tight material.
"Don't know how you get into those damn things." Buffy muttered at him as she tried to reach down, stretching as far as she could go in her restraints.
She struggled against the chains and kept her eyes fixed on his face the whole time, watching for signs that she was doing wasn't waking him. When she realised that they were too far away to reach without disturbing him she heaved a long sigh of resignation and relaxed back against the headboard.
Spike mumbled something and tugged her closer to him, his head now snugly resting against her chest.
"Oh…vast improvement." Buffy groused as she looked down at him, his face softened by sleep and a contented smile twitching on his lips. He looked almost sweet when he was asleep; the usually hard lines of his face now smooth. He appeared vulnerable, human even.
It hit her hard that he was human once, long before the demon had taken residence inside him. She'd seen lingering elements of the man he used to be still in him, moments where he'd shown her just how different he was to the vampires she usually met. He was more human than all of them, all except Angel.
She frowned. He was almost as human as Angel. Wasn't it the soul that made Angel human? If that was true then what was it that made Spike that way?
Letting her eyes linger on his face she blinked slowly as she took in the gentle curves of his cheeks and the serenity of his expression.
Curiosity taking over, she ran her fingers lightly over his cheek and nearly withdrew her hand quickly as she realised how soft his skin was-not hard and cold like she'd expected it to be but silky and almost warm. She smiled absentmindedly as she let her fingers trace the curve of his brow, moving down over his cheek to his lips.
He twitched his nose and his lips parted slightly.
Buffy took her hand away from him and sighed.
Closing her eyes she did the only thing she could do-followed him into the land of nod.
Spike smacked his lips together as he woke, his head spinning and aching. Blinking slightly he paused when he realised he felt warm.
He was wrapped up in something, someone.
Slow steady heartbeat.
Gentle shallow breathing.
He inhaled deeply.
Slayer.
Fluttering his eyes open, he was greeted by an eyeful of cotton-covered breast. He smiled.
What made things even better was the fact that his hateful Slayer had her chained arms wrapped as tight around him as she could manage, holding him to her chest as she slept, cradling him to her.
Spike's smile widened into a grin which soon faded under the pressure of the pain numbing his brain.
Sighing with contentment, he snuggled into her chest and closed his eyes again, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep in her arms.
"Oh god." Buffy woke with a start, her hands releasing him and pushing against his shoulders until he fell off her.
"Hey!" Spike frowned up at her as she pushed him away. "You were the one with the death grip on me, love…"
"What…no…you started it, with your stupid passing out, Mister Can't-handle-his-drink." Buffy found herself half frowning and half pouting at him. She quickly stopped, her face becoming a mask of indifference over the situation while her insides swirled with conflict over how nice it had felt.
"Suit yourself…I could always finish what I was about to start." He eyed her neck and grinned at her as she tugged the covers up to her chin.
Sliding off the bed he ran his hand over his hair and searched the room for his cigarettes. His stomach growled. At least he thought it had been his stomach.
He turned slowly to find Buffy looking away from him, her eyes cast down at the sheets and a sheepish look on her face.
"Hungry, pet?" Spike cocked his head to one side as he approached her, his movements slow.
"I'm fine." She kept her face turned away from him as he sat down on the bed next to her.
"Still dark out…could get you something…got to get me something anyway." Spike tried to ignore the part of him that said he shouldn't be leaving her-she wouldn't be safe with his minions acting up. But he needed to get out of the lair, needed to feel the cool night air against his skin and breathe it all in-clearing his head of thoughts of her and what was happening to him.
Buffy felt a chill sweep up her spine at his words. He was going out to hunt and it made the conflict inside her grow worse. Part of her was quietly thankful that he wasn't intending to make her his next meal and he clearly wasn't going to starve her either. He seemed to be having too much fun with her around to consider that just yet. But part of her was feeling nervous about being left alone in the lair without him to protect her from his remaining minions. She'd heard their chatter outside the door while he'd been sleeping, whispered comments about her and their master.
Looking into Spike's eyes, she couldn't find the strength to tell him not to go, she couldn't let him see that she needed him around, that she was scared to be alone.
"Won't be long." Spike smiled and lit his cigarette.
Buffy watched him take a long drag on it, the smoke seeping gently from his lips before he blew it out into the cool air of the bedroom.
She glanced nervously at the door.
Spike followed her gaze. He hated himself for what he was about to say. Never mind bringing her back alive, now he was adding to it by wanting to keep her safe.
"I'll lock the door." He placed his hand softly on her knee and saw her eyes flicker to it, her look turning worried and he knew it wasn't all about the door, it was about the things that were happening between them-he could feel it too.
Standing sharply he stormed out.
Buffy listened to him muttering as he locked her inside her strange prison. Casting a glance around the walls, the room seemed suddenly massive, a large foreboding space full of shadows that seemed to grow shapes, long tendril like fingers reaching out for her.
She curled up and hugged her knees tightly.
She wished Spike were back already.
