Cravings

(Sequel to Comfort)

Pairing: Buffy/Spike

Summary: There's nothing really happening here, just a bunch of thoughts Buffy and Spike have during the first days after Joyce's death.

Setting: This starts the morning after the events in "Comfort".

Author's note: If you haven't read my fic "Comfort" this story won't make much sense. So go and read it first.

Another note: Sorry it took me so long to write this sequel but I didn't know how to go on after "Comfort". I still don't know where the story is going but I had to post this nevertheless.

There is some dialogue from "Forever" in this but other than that this turned out much AU. For example Dawn is not going to try and resurrect Joyce (because I think it was…I don't know, I didn't like the idea. My opinion: Spike would have never agreed to that cause he knows the dangers of magic) and of cause there will be no Buffybot because my Spike doesn't need one. He got the original. So you see this is a lot different to the show. But I hope you like it nevertheless.

And now I'm gonna shut up and let you start reading.


Cravings

Warm rays of sunlight dazzled Buffy's eyes when she awoke next morning. She felt quite relaxed. For two entire seconds she was able to revel in the feeling of nothingness. Then it all came back to her.

Yesterday.
Her mom…dead.
The time at the hospital, the vampire at the morgue.
Her sister…so scared and hurt.
Then at night…patrol…fighting vampires…her hand stabbed by her own stake.
And then Spike.
Spike who had been there for her.

He had fixed up the wound and bandaged her hand. He had given comfort without taking advantage of the weak emotional state she'd been in. Quite the opposite in fact. He had been the one to break the kiss and stop her from going any further. Regardless of the feelings he claimed to have for her Spike had rejected her and therefore prevented her from making a terrible mistake.
That's what it would have been if she had slept with him, right? A mistake?

Buffy looked at the bandage around her hand and sighed. Of cause it would have been a mistake. What had she been thinking?
"Guess I wasn't thinking at all!" Buffy whispered and turned around in bed to lie on her back.
Kissing Spike! Making out with him on the back porch! God, what would her friends think of her if they ever knew?
"They won't. Ever!" Buffy said to herself when she got up and out of bed. But she sounded much more determined than she felt inside.

'What if Spike tells them?' Buffy suddenly thought, 'What if he starts bragging about finally getting into her pants (well, sort of)?'
"That's so not going to happen!"
She had to make sure he didn't tell anyone about last night. She had to talk to him. But that would mean she had to go see him again soon. And that was something Buffy didn't want to do right now.

She didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to see him and she didn't want to think about his kisses. The way his hair had curled around her fingers. The way his eyes had brightened by the tears he'd tried to hide. And she definitely didn't want to think about the way she had been all over him; desperate, willing…
...she didn't want to be reminded of the embarrassment of last night's encounter.

She didn't want to deal with him, full stop.

Best would be to keep away from him and to keep him away from everybody else. Why couldn't he just leave? Why couldn't he just take the DeSoto and drive his cute little ass out of Sunnydale and her life? But that would never happen, would it?
'Wait, cute little ass? What the hell…Buffy, get a grip. He's not cute! He's a lot of other things. Evil, dangerous, infuriating…but not cute!'
Buffy could come up with thousands of expressions for the vampire and she could picture Spike do a lot of things…like trying to kill her, fighting with her, annoying her to death with his cocky, smug attitude…
…but she knew one thing he would never do.

Leave.


Hours had passed with Buffy having no more time to think about the blond vampire. There were so many things to do, to be taken care of.
Her head threatened to explode after a day of choosing a coffin, organizing the burial service, deciding whether or not there'd be a wake, food, flowers, a speech, dealing with the incredible absence of her dad (he didn't even call) and a somehow numb and far away Dawn.

Buffy had kept herself busy all day. The others had tried to help her with everything. Giles had taken over the phone calls, Willow had been preparing food for everyone and Xander had been there for Dawn as well as for her. If it hadn't been for her friends Buffy never would have gotten through it all.
But now her friends were about to go home. She could hear Xander and Willow closing the front door behind them. Buffy was sitting in the darkness of her room. Alone.

And that was when the pain kicked in.

She could hear Dawn sniffing in the next room and knew she should go over to try and comfort her. But what was there to say? How should she be able to offer any comfort if there was nothing left inside of her?
She had kept herself busy all day because she knew if she would allow herself to rest for only a second she would crumble and crash down inside her misery. She couldn't let that happen. She had to keep it together, she was needed, damn!

But now, here, in the lonely darkness of her room Buffy allowed herself to let go of her strength.

She lay down on the bed with her face buried in her pillow and started to sob.
'Oh god, what would I give for a pair of strong arms surrounding me now? Arms to sink into, hands to hold me, someone to be there for me? Just someone to spend comfort, like the one last night!'


It was dark outside when Willow and Xander left Buffy's house and descended the front stairs.
"You're going home?" Xander asked.
"I'm gonna stop by my mom's first," the redhead answered, "didn't do that a lot lately."
"Yeah, I though I'd stop by your mom's, too." Seeing Willow's questioning glance he added:
"I'm not going to my place. Those people are scary!"

A movement on the front lawn caught Xander's attention. It was Spike, approaching with a small bunch of flowers in his hand.
"Speaking of…" the dark haired boy addressed the vampire, "You've got to be kidding!"
Spike stopped in his tracks and sighed:
"I'm not going in."
"And you're not leaving those!" Xander waved a hand towards the flowers in Spike's hand. "You actually think you're gonna score points with Buffy this way?"
"This isn't about Buffy." Spike tried to explain but he got interrupted by Xander's harsh voice:

"Bull! We're all hip to your doomed obsession."

Spike got more annoyed with each second he wasted on a conversation with the whelp but he tried anyway:
"They're for Joyce!"
"Like you care about her!" Xander took a step towards the vampire who came closer to the Scoobies, too.
"Guys," Willow tried to interfere, "guys, not here!"
"Care?" Spike repeated, unimpressed by neither Xander nor Willow's attempt to separate them, "Joyce was the only one of the lot of you that I could stand!"
"And she's the only one with a daughter you wanna shag!" Xander countered, "I'm touched!"

Now Spike was becoming really annoyed. "I liked the lady! You understand, monkey boy?" He let out an unneeded breath. "She was decent! She didn't put on airs." His voice got soft at his next words: "Always had a nice cuppa for me!"

Willow looked sadly up to the vampire's face. She always knew that Spike had a thing for Joyce. And, she had to admit, vice versa.
"And she never treated me like a freak!" Spike added determined.
"Her mistake!" Xander wasn't to be fooled by the unevil dead. He didn't believe a second that Spike had no ulterior motives.
Spike sighed again. It was pointless discussing this with the whelp. "Think what you want!" he muttered and threw the flowers to the ground. Then he turned around without another look and stomped away.

"Unbelievable!" Xander shook his head, "The guy thinks he can put on a big show and…calm Buffy to be his sex-monkey!"
Willow kneeled down to pick up the discarded flowers.
"Xander," she said, "he didn't leave a card!"

The redhead looked up to Xander who frowned back at her. Then he threw a glare to where Spike had left and looked back at Willow. He didn't know what to say.
Willow sighed and pressed the flowers towards her chest.


"Bloody hell!"

Spike took another swallow from the nearly empty bottle of JD and threw it away. The glass shattering against the stone walls of his crypt seemed too loud for his sensitive ears.
But loud was good, loud would drown the voices in his head.
The voices that whispered to him to go and kill Harris, that bloody fucking wanker. God, how he wanted to listen to them. How he wanted to tear the whelp's throat apart, regardless of the pain the sodding chip in his head would give him for it.

That pain would be a welcoming change to the seething rage Spike felt burning in his cold, dead body since his encounter with the Scoobies earlier.

How dare they…

The whelp knew nothing about the feelings Spike had harboured for Joyce. He knew nothing about how Spike had secretly compared Buffy's mom to his own, how he had substituted them for each other.
It had not just simply been Joyce's outer appearance which had reminded him of his own mother. No, neither simply the hair nor the eyes…it had been the look from those eyes, one single look.
A look so full of kindness and understanding…no other than his mother had ever looked at Spike that way…neither when he had been human nor later when he had become Spike.
And, god, how he had craved for a look like that!

His human self, William, had been a wuss, bloody right. But all he'd ever wanted had been for someone to look at him with something other than superiority or pity. Someone to really see him.
And later as a vampire? Well, many things had changed when he had become Spike. Thank god!

But one thing had not.
This craving had never ceased to exist.

Spike had learned over the years to suppress it, to hide it because as a vampire you're not supposed to need one of those looks.
But the craving had never stopped. It had been there, burning inside of him like a small flame, ready to spread with the smallest gust of wind.

And the gust had come.
Joyce with her kindness had stirred up all this long suppressed cravings. Longings Spike had thought were long gone.
And now Joyce was…gone.

Spike sighed and reached for another bottle next to his armchair. It was the third this evening and there were only two others left. He wondered if the booze would be enough to dull these thoughts tonight.
Perhaps the thoughts could be blacked out, but not the craving.

Never the craving!


TBC

Sorry about this being so short and kind of senseless. But I promise to update sooner than the last time, okay? By the way...reviews will definitely help to quicken my updates.