~Title: A Revealing Dream
~Author: LuckyStarz
~Summary: Buffy has a dream about Spike, but what does it mean? Will she figure it out in time?
~Chapters: 4
~Rating: PG-13
~Pairings: Buffy/Spike
~Category: Drama/Romance
~Spoilers: Mostly up through "The Gift" and a little beyond.
~Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. I borrow them for my own enjoyment.
~Email: PunkPrincess41@insightbb.com or spikeslove15@yahoo.com
Chapter One: Encounters
The night was cold and still. Buffy Summers pulled her coat closer about her neck and shivered. It had been a slow night. She’d only fought three vampires and it was already after two. Giles had left hours ago. He’d told her to do the same, but she couldn’t leave yet. She didn’t actually think there was evil afoot; she just didn’t want to go home yet. She needed this time to think. A lot had happened since she’d re-entered the realm of the living. She felt different. Actually, she didn’t feel anything at all. She put on a happy face around her friends, but inside she was empty. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful. On some level she was glad they had brought her back. Mostly she was afraid. They had taken her out of the most purely blissful place one could imagine. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get back there.
A noise off to her left distracted her from her thoughts. She turned in the direction it had come from and dropped into a fighting stance. She was getting restless and just itching for a good fight. Out of the shadows a thorny head appeared. Buffy didn’t wait a second longer. The creature was identified as non-human and she charged.
She knocked it down by ramming into it full-force. It lay there only a second before she reached down and hauled it to its feet with one arm, then slammed her fist into its jaw. She heard the bones crack and gave herself a mental pat on the back. The demon staggered backward, one cloven hand to its face. It tried in vain to snap the broken bones back in place, but soon became exasperated and came at her swinging. It aimed a right hook at her head, but she blocked it and spun about. Her left leg flew out to sweep her enemy off its feet. As it landed on the ground, Buffy grasped its neck and yanked as hard as she could. The demon’s head snapped loudly and then rested on the ground at an odd angle.
Buffy stepped back and admired her work. She was a bit sated now; some of the edge had been taken off her irritation. Still, she wasn’t tired enough to go back home. It wasn’t as if there was someone waiting for her anyway. Willow was home with Dawn so there was no need for her to rush back and make sure her little sister was okay.
She continued through the cemetery as her thoughts wandered yet again to a much disliked blond vampire. For some reason he had been able to sense that she was unhappy. He had made it obvious before she died how he thought he felt about her. He had tried to make her understand. She didn’t want to believe it was true. She *couldn’t* believe it was true. There was just no way that a vampire, such as Spike, with no soul could feel anything real. Yet she had to wonder why he would make it up.
Whether he was actually in love with her or not, somehow he had been able to pick up on her detached thoughts. He had seemed generally concerned when he asked her to talk about it. Maybe that was why she’d ended up spilling to him. That or the fact that, since he too was dead, he could understand what it was like to feel nothing inside. Either way, she had told him about her trip to Heaven, and her expulsion from it. He had listened intently, and when she was done he swore he would never tell her friends what she had confided in him. And she trusted him. That was what scared her the most.
Her head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. She was standing in front of his crypt. How had she gotten here? Apparently her mind had a will of its own. She pushed against the heavy metal door and it creaked open. She shook her head in disbelief. Okay, so her hands had a will of their own too. She stepped into the crypt and looked about her. She hadn’t been here often, but everything looked the same. The floor was littered with clothes and other odd things, and the table was completely covered with liquor bottles.
“Oi! You don’t just walk into people’s homes uninvited! What’d you think you’re...” Spike trailed off as he recognized the Slayer at his door. “Buffy? Something wrong, luv?” He came forward as she stepped further into the crypt and shut the door behind her.
She shook her head, unable to find words to explain what she was doing here.
Spike raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t just drop by to say hello, pet. What’s going on?”
“I...I was out patrolling and I figured I’d stop by and...and ask for your help.”
He grinned at her flimsy lie. “Pretty poor excuse to come see me, luv,” he purred and brushed his hand down her arm.
Buffy pulled away and scowled at him. “I *was* out patrolling,” she insisted.
“And the other part?”
She sighed. “All right, so I didn’t come by to ask for your help.” She shot him a menacing glare as she caught his smirk. Her eyes lowered to the floor and her voice softened as she said, more to herself than to him, “I don’t know how I got here. I was thinking about what you said to me...I guess my legs just moved where my mind was headed.”
“Right then,” Spike said, a little shocked by her reply. He hadn’t expected her to say she’d been thinking about him. He wasn’t usually a topic on her mind. “Want a drink?”
His voice jostled her back to awareness. “What?”
“Do you want a drink?”
Buffy appeared confused by his question. “Oh...no, thank you.”
“Right, well *I* need one. Make yourself at home,” he said and moved to the table. He sorted through the bottles, trying to find one that was full. When he had succeeded, he looked up to find Buffy seated in his favorite arm chair. He came to stand in front of her and looked down at her with a quizzical expression.
She smiled up at him. “You told me to make myself at home.”
He smiled back. “So I did.” He took a sip of the alcohol, then crossed his arms and asked, “Why are you here, Buffy?”
She seemed surprised, but it quickly turned to embarrassment. She looked down at the floor and rocked back and forth in the chair. “I told you, I don’t know. I was out patrolling, you know, just walking around the cemetery. I started to think about what you told me. The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of your crypt.”
He had expected her story to change, but since it hadn’t, he had to believe she was telling the truth. “Right then.” He took another sip from the bottle and then set it down on the table beside her. He crouched down and studied her face for a moment before saying, “Still don’t believe me, do you, luv?”
Buffy chanced a look into his eyes. It was a mistake. She felt as if she were drowning in the deepest ocean. They held her spellbound and pleaded with her to believe what he said. She almost wanted to. She closed her eyes instead. “Spike, let’s not talk about that.”
In the back of his mind, Spike knew he had just reached her for a second. But she was more concerned with current affairs, so he let it go. “Something else you want to talk about?”
She paused and tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind, so she gave up and reminded herself that she shouldn’t even *be* here. “No. I really should get going though.” She stood up and headed toward the door.
Spike got up and gently grabbed hold of her arm. He felt her tense slightly but ignored it. “Wait. It’s early yet. Stay for awhile.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. “Early? Normally I would say it’s early for you, you being a vampire and all, but the sun’s almost up. More of a late kind of thing I’d say.”
“Just stay until the sun comes up. Then I’ll be stuck here and you can go on home. ‘S only a few more hours, pet.” He was getting desperate and he didn’t like it, but he really didn’t want her to go. She had come to see him of her own free will, without seeking help on some nasty. It had to mean something. If he could just keep her here for a while longer maybe he could figure out what that something was.
She turned back to him to say that she needed to get some sleep, but damn those eyes! They were definitely begging her this time; all big and sad looking. She suddenly realized that his hand was still on her arm. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh as she felt his cool skin on her own. The contact was like a block of ice on hot black asphalt. She could almost hear the sizzling, and could *definitely* feel the melting of her resolve; not to mention her body. Unconsciously she had relaxed her arm and moved a step closer to him.
He felt her skin shiver beneath his touch and the muscles go slack in her arm. Her skin was like fire, heating the pads of his fingers where they gently gripped her flesh. As she shifted closer to him he felt a strong urge to pull her fully to him, but held it in check. He didn’t want to frighten her. “So?” He breathed softly, his cerulean eyes locked on her hazel ones.
“Till the sun comes up,” she replied in a faraway voice. Spike’s thumb rubbed slowly up her arm and then back down, cooling her hot skin. She closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation, moving slightly closer to him again.
Her searing flesh was doing a number on Spike’s self-control. He could feel the warmth creeping slowly through his fingers to his hand, and then spreading outward to his arm. As her eyes slid closed, he took a few steps closer to her and breathed in the soft feminine aroma of her skin and hair. His other hand cautiously traced a path up her other arm. Gently he pulled her to face him.
Buffy could feel the sudden jolt of his other hand as it glided up her arm. She shivered but didn’t protest, even as he moved her to face him. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel his burning into her. Languidly she opened them and stared into his finely carved face.
“Buffy,” he whispered, his unneeded breath stirring strands of her hair. His unbeating heart was pounding blood in his ears, nearly drowning out her voice.
“Spike,” she murmured as she nearly collapsed against him. Her mouth found his in a kiss that bruised her lips. Her arms slid around his neck as her tongue slipped inside his mouth to play tag with his.
Spike’s head was reeling. He had the Slayer in his arms, and she was kissing him! He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her to him. He could feel her heartbeat thudding against his chest, and knew if his heart could beat it would be pounding in time with hers.
Buffy’s mind had completely deserted her. She was acting on feeling alone and was amazed that she could actually feel *something*. In fact, she could feel a lot. Spike was making her feel. This was insane, but it felt so right.
As she was pulled against him, she rose on her tiptoes and deepened the kiss. Her hands unwound from around his neck and roamed free across the expanse of his back. It wasn’t enough. She needed skin-on-skin contact and pulled his black shirt free from his pants. One hand slid over the cold, hard muscles of his back while the other held his shirt up.
The heat of her hand on his back caused Spike to jump. He had never expected the Slayer to willingly fall into his arms. Yet here she was, kissing him with a fevered passion and gliding her hand over his back. He was so afraid that this was a dream. He knew any minute now he’d wake up and he’d be alone in his bed. But that minute never came.
As she continued to kiss him, Buffy reveled in all the feelings that came to her. She suddenly felt so alive. Her other hand was getting impatient; wanting to feel the rippling muscles of Spike’s back. She broke the kiss for a second and yanked the shirt over his head. Both her hands immediately went to the bare skin, and she smiled at how good he felt.
Spike watched her with amazement. When she had first arrived there had been a dull, glossy look to her eyes. Now, as he stared into them, he could see a vibrant fire burning in their depths. She had broken the kiss, but it didn’t really matter. She was still in his arms, and it appeared that she wasn’t going anywhere. His heart swelled.
She was losing herself in his eyes again. She didn’t mind so much this time, however. It gave her a chance to see what he was feeling. Part of her was scared by what she saw. She could clearly see that he loved her; that he was *in* love with her. To have him care so much about her was not something she was ready to deal with yet. But then there was that other part of her. The part that said “To hell with everything. He can make you *feel*. Do you really want to give that up?” That was the part she wanted to listen to. She’d been through enough stress and emotional heartache. She wanted to be free. She wanted to let him make it go away and replace the emptiness with something whole. She didn’t want to be barren anymore.
Gently she kissed him. It was a tender gesture that touched him deeply. He smiled down at her. “Buffy, I love you.”
A frown flitted across her features. “I think you do, Spike,” she said slowly and studied him carefully. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
Spike forced himself to smile and nod. He was relieved that she could finally believe him. It made things easier that way; but it also made them harder. She’d already sworn she could never love him, and although he didn’t believe her, it killed him to hear her say it. With the way she was acting now, it was hard for him to understand why she just couldn’t admit her feelings. There was some part of her that loved him, he knew it. In time, she would come to realize it too. He just wasn’t sure how long it would take.
The tension was thick and uncomfortable between them. Buffy felt nervous as she watched a sadness pass over Spike’s features. A twinge of pain snaked through her heart. She grimaced. A strong urge to make everything better abruptly filled her. The heat between them had nearly fizzled out. She wanted it back. If they could just forget all the emotional baggage and concentrate on each other, she knew things would be okay. She pressed her body invitingly against his and looked up at him through her lashes.
He had momentarily forgotten how close she was to him. Now that her body was back against his, their proximity to each other came and hit him full-force. His body reacted on its own and he dipped his head low to kiss her. As she started to take over, he pulled back. He wanted to be in control. He wanted to prove, not with words but with his body, how much he loved her. He kissed her again, gentle at first, then gradually he became more aggressive. He nipped at her lips and rolled his tongue over them, tasting their slick sweetness.
Buffy had been caught off-guard when he’d pulled back from their kiss. For an instant she had been afraid that, because of what she’d said, he no longer wanted her. Now that his mouth was back on hers, she gave herself over to his control.
Very soon, his control became too controlled. The fire was back and raging once again. She wanted him, but he was busy playing games. As he playfully nipped at her bottom lip, she moaned into his mouth and raked her nails down his back in an attempt to hurry him along.
Spike could sense her urgency, and felt it building inside him as well. But he promised himself that he would prove to her he wasn’t a monster. He could be as caring and gentle as any other man, and he wanted her to know it. He knew being a vampire was part of the reason she wouldn’t let herself love him. She had gotten emotionally attached to another of his kind and the whole thing had gone to hell. Literally. He understood that she was afraid of him. She would never come out and say it, but because he lacked a soul, she was afraid he would hurt her. Truth be told, he was afraid of that himself. What he was doing now, the tenderness he was showing her, was not only proof to her, but to him as well. He was proving to them both that he could be gentle and not hurt her. She wasn’t making it easy though.
“Buffy, luv, I’m trying as hard as I can to be gentle here, but you’re making it very difficult,” he said as he pulled away from the kiss.
She smiled up at him, mischief dancing in her hazel eyes. She rolled her hips up against his and said, “Gentle later.”
That was all the incentive he needed. His right hand grabbed the back of her head and crushed his mouth down on hers. His other hand yanked her to him and roamed upward along her back and then down again. In the back of his mind, a voice was telling him to slow down and remember his promise to himself. He squashed the voice, but left a mental note that later he would do as he had first intended. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
He watched her sleep, a feeling of contentment deep within him. She was tangled in his sheets, exhausted from their early-morning fits of passion. Her golden hair was fanned out on his pillow, a few strands of it partially covering her face. One hand was curled under her chin; the other was lost under the pillow. He smiled and smoothed the hair back from her face, caressing her cheek as he went. She stirred slightly and nudged closer to him. She was beautiful, and everything he had ever imagined. Her skin was a rich bronze and smooth as silk. She was soft and taut in all the right places. Her Slayer strength had proved a match for him, he remembered with a sly smile. His eyes passed over her face and noted the slight swelling of her lips, then moved down her arms to the purplish bruises there. He’d given her a run for her money too.
Absently his hand trailed down her arm and he smiled at her shiver. He wondered what time it was and knew that all too soon she would have to leave. He pressed a soft kiss on her swollen lips and had to force himself to pull back when she strained forward into him. He settled down next to her and draped a possessive arm across her bare back. She sighed in her sleep and he closed his eyes, a small smile playing with the corners of his mouth. Very soon he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Buffy awoke with a strong feeling of satisfaction and serenity. She rolled onto her back, stretched and yawned, then rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slowly opened them. As her eyes adjusted to the dim room, she bolted upright, holding the sheet close against her naked chest. Her breathing quickened as she realized where she was and panicked.
“Oh god,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “Oh god, please tell me I’m not where I think I am.”
With her eyes still closed, she turned slightly and reached down. Gingerly her fingers grazed over the cold skin of the vampire sleeping next to her. She jerked her hand back and whimpered.
“No, no this can’t be happening. This has got to be a dream. *Please* let it be a dream!”
Cautiously she opened her eyes and looked down. Beside her, Spike was stretched out on his stomach, one arm resting just inches from her thigh. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she quickly slid her leg away from him. She held her breath as he stirred and rolled over on his side.
With his back now to her, Buffy could relax a little. She sighed and looked helplessly about her for her clothes. She found them scattered about the room and remembered him stripping her as they kissed and groped at each other. Heat filled her cheeks as she blushed. She grabbed the few pieces that were lying on the bedpost and carefully slipped them on. Trying hard not to wake him, she untangled herself from his sheets and slid off the bed. She paused and waited, hoping he would not wake up. She wanted to get out of here before she had to face him. When she was sure that he was still sound asleep, the hunt for the rest of her clothes began.
Having successfully gotten dressed, Buffy quietly ascended the stairs and headed out the door. Bright sunlight greeted her. She blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light and her heart to stop pounding. Finally she headed in the direction of Revello Drive. She checked her watch and swore. It was after seven thirty. Dawn would be up and probably wondering where she was. Great. Now she had to think of some lame story to hide what she had actually been doing all night. What the hell *had* she been doing all night?
She shook her head. Spike? She had slept with Spike? How desperate was she? She had spent the entire night in an evil, soulless thing’s arms. In his bed.
And strangely she had left him feeling alive.
“Stop it!” She shouted and grabbed her head to still the voices. “I don’t know what the hell happened last night, but it’s not going to happen again. Ever!”
She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears and continued walking.
It will not happen again. It will not happen again. It will NOT happen again! Over and over in her mind she chanted the phrase, willing herself to believe it. But something was making her doubtful. The part of her that recognized how Spike had made her feel was softly saying it *would* happen again. She could hear it underneath her chanting. It was singing to her in a delicate voice: You’ve tasted something. You’ve *felt* something. He made you feel it. You’ll want him again. You’ll need to feel again.
She quickened her pace as the thoughts warred in her head. Something awful had happened and she was so overwhelmed by it that she couldn’t even think straight. She needed a distraction. She needed to think about something else for a while. Later she would figure things out. Yes, later would be better. Now was not the time to think about Spike. Thinking about him now would only bring about uncomfortable feelings and thoughts not of the good. Later, when she had calmed down, she could think clearly about everything. Later everything would be fine.
She could see her house approaching and could not for the life of her think of a good excuse for being out all night. She reached the edge of her driveway and decided to go with the timeless classic: “I was out fighting demons the whole night.” Granted, it wasn’t the most original of lies, but Dawn would believe it. As long as Dawn didn’t get skeptical and ask too many questions, she would be safe. As long as *nobody* suspected anything, she wouldn’t have to fess up to her incredibly embarrassing night with Spike.
She took a deep breath and walked across the threshold. Standing in front of the door she tried to collect her thoughts. Finally, with one last hope that Dawn wouldn’t be awake, she opened the door and stepped inside.
“Buffy?” Dawn cried and rushed toward the front door. Her eyes lit on her sister and she shouted incredulously, “Where have you *been*?”
Buffy gave her little sister a weak smile, dropped her bag by the door, and plopped down on the couch in the living room. “I was out fighting demons the whole night,” she said easily with a shrug. Over the years she had become very good at lying, although she really hated doing it to Dawn. It was hard to lie to someone who was so open and trusting of everything. In this case though, she had to make an exception.
Dawn’s eyes went wide. “All night? Wow. There must really be some big beastie around.”
“Yeah, there was. Lots of them, actually.”
A mischievous smile curved Dawn’s mouth. She sat down next to her sister and leaned toward her. “Were they big and hairy? Or like with horns and sharp teeth?”
Buffy couldn’t help but smile. It was so like Dawn to dig for the most disgusting details. “Yeah, they were all gross looking. But hey, demons aren’t exactly the most beautiful creatures to begin with.”
“How many were there?”
Quickly, Buffy tried to figure out how long it would take to kill a demon, and judge how many she would need to kill in the amount of time she had been gone. Unfortunately her brain was too tired to do all that work. She gave up and shrugged. “Every time I killed one of them, another would step on up.”
“Is that why you’re all bruised and sore?” Dawn asked and glanced at her sister’s battered body.
With a blush Buffy replied, “Yeah, he was a little rough...I mean they! *They* were pretty rough. Whew! I’ve never fought so many....rough demons?”
Well that was just great. Nice little cover-up there, Buffy. She definitely won’t suspect anything now.
Surprisingly, Dawn just rolled her eyes. “I think you need some sleep, Buffy. Your brain isn’t working right.”
A sigh of relief escaped Buffy’s lips. She stood up and stretched. “All work and no sleep make Buffy Cranky-girl.” She yawned and said, “Is Xander picking you up this morning?”
“Yeah, he should be here any minute,” Dawn replied and got up to find her bag.
Buffy nodded again and headed towards the stairs. “Okay. Good night, Dawnie. Have a good day at school.”
“Don’t you have work this morning?” Dawn called after her.
“Nope. I work the night-shift, remember?”
“Wasn’t that before you got fired and then re-hired?” Dawn insisted.
“Hmmm...” Buffy said and turned to face her sister. “I think so.”
Dawn waited, but her older sister didn’t say more and didn’t move to get ready. She sighed in exasperation. “That means you have to get ready, Buffy.”
Squinting, Buffy looked at her watch. The numbers blurred and swirled in front of her eyes. She held the watch away from her and shook her head. “Eyes too blurry. Can’t see time.”
Grabbing the watch, Dawn glanced at it and reported, “Ten after eight. You’ve got to go or you’ll be late.” She pushed her sister up the first couple stairs as she added, “You have to be there in twenty minutes.”
Reluctantly Buffy climbed the stairs, grumbling to herself about ungodly hours of the morning to be working. She stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick shower, then got out and rummaged through her closet for her work uniform. When she was dressed and ready to go she checked her watch and saw that she had two minutes to walk into the building before she was late. She dashed down the stairs, grabbed her bag and ran out the door.
She arrived at work five minutes late and received a five minute lecture from her boss about the importance of punctuality. She nodded and apologized at all the appropriate intervals, then pasted a smile on her face and stood behind the counter.
Time passed slowly and Buffy was bored out of her mind. Customers came and ordered; she took their money and placed it in the cash register. Then she gave them their food and waited for the next people to arrive.
As she leaned against the counter, her mind wandered for the millionth time to Spike. She replayed the events of the entire night over and over in her head, trying to figure out what had made her act so not of the norm. No matter how she looked at it, she always came up with the same conclusion: somehow Spike had made her feel.
She had been getting used to not feeling anything. She was hollow inside and although she hated it, she couldn’t find a way to fix it. So she dealt with it. Then Spike had to go and listen to her complain about being back; and worst of all he had to be *nice* about it. He had to go and promise her that he would never tell her friends what she was going through. Somehow after that she had believed he was the only one who understood her, and because he understood her, she felt a little different towards him. She’d like to say she still hated him, but after what happened last night she knew she’d only be lying to herself. How she felt about him now was still jumbled up with the why’s of going to see him.
A customer ready to order stopped her whirling thoughts. She tried desperately to concentrate on what he was saying, but fleeting memories of last night interrupted her. She had to stop him several times and ask him to repeat himself. Very soon he became annoyed and she was sent on an early break.
Thankful for the interference, Buffy went outside and leaned against the cold brick wall. She took several deep breaths and cleared her mind. If she was going to get through this day alive, she was going to need to get her thoughts in order. She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of everything.
When she finally opened her eyes again, nothing was clear. The only real thing she knew was that Spike had been able to make her feel alive. How he accomplished this and why she went to see him in the first place were still utterly lost to her.
She tilted her head back against the wall and let out a frustrated sigh. Why did I let him do those things to me? She snorted as she thought, probably wasn’t even my fault. I bet he seduced me. At that thought she couldn’t help laughing. Spike, the evil vampire, had the power to seduce the all-mighty Slayer? It was quite humorous.
She shook her head as she headed back inside. I must be going crazy. First I sleep with Spike and now I believe he seduced me.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
For the hundredth time that day, Buffy glanced up at the clock. It was almost four thirty. The torture would be ending soon. A pain shot up her spine as if to punctuate how torturous this job really was. She placed a hand to the small of her back and bent over backwards to stop the ache. She heard a crack and she straightened, the pain gone.
Resuming her position leaning against the counter again, Buffy’s mind worked on the idea she had thought so funny earlier. The tedious hours of greeting customers and punching in orders had made her think. For a while now she had been toying with the idea that her intimate night with Spike had not been her fault at all. It was possible that he had taken advantage of her somehow. She doubted he would have raped her; even Spike had his limits. But the more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed that he had started the whole thing.
By the time the clock said four thirty, Buffy was already mad. She had convinced herself that somehow Spike had managed to lure her into his bed. She didn’t know how he’d done it, and she didn’t care. She’d disregarded remembering coming on to him; telling herself it was only the effects of his somewhat questionable charms. The other details of the night were also unimportant to her. The only thing she cared about was how he’d tempted her to sleep with him.
She stormed out of the Double-Meat Palace, intent only upon making him suffer for what he’d done.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike was just waking up from a very restful sleep when he heard pounding on his door. He groaned and rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of black jeans as he went. He climbed the stairs and headed for the door as the noise continued. “Quit your bloody pounding!” He shouted through the door. Slowly he pulled it open and stepped behind it, fearful of the sun that had not set yet.
Buffy slammed into his crypt and looked wildly about. “Spike!”
“Bloody hell, Slayer,” Spike grumbled as he pushed the door shut, “give a man some peace, will ya?”
At the sound of his voice, Buffy had whipped around. She now faced him, anger flushing her cheeks a bright red, her jaw set, her eyes hard as she glared at him. “What the hell did you do to me?”
Momentarily caught off guard by her angry tone, Spike stared at her in confusion. He quickly realized what she was talking about and recovered with a cocky smile. “If you wanted me to show you again all you had to do was ask, luv.”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean, Spike.” She set her hands on her hips. “What the hell happened last night?”
A brief look of fear flashed across Spike’s face. “You don’t remember then?”
“Of course I remember!” Buffy shouted and threw her hands up in aggravation.
He was confused again. “What’re you saying, Buffy? You remember what happened but you want me to explain it to you?”
She took a step closer to him, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I want you to tell me what the hell you did to me.” Her face was livid. “Did you get me drunk? If you did, I swear to God...”
“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down now, Slayer,” Spike interrupted and held his hands up in protest. “I didn’t do a bloody thing to you...well, nothing you didn’t enjoy.” He looked her up and down with that cocky smirk back in place.
Her fist connected with his jaw and she smiled in satisfaction. She’d wanted to wipe that cocky smile off his face...
The force of the blow sent Spike stumbling backward. He caught his balance a second before his body hit the heavy metal door of his crypt. He brought a hand to his jaw to feel for any broken bones. Luckily there were none, although there would be a definite bruise there in the morning. “What’d you do that for?” He asked as he rubbed his sore face.
“You did something to me,” Buffy replied, the smile gone from her face as well.
Spike took a step towards her and looked her directly in the eyes. “I didn’t do a bloody thing to you,” he repeated. His own anger was bubbling to the surface at this onslaught.
Before he even saw it coming, her other fist was flying at his left cheek. She wasn’t as good with her left hand, but she succeeded in knocking him off his balance again. “Tell me what you did to me,” she ground out.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Slayer. The only things I did to you were exactly what you wanted me to.”
A sneer curved her lips. “Oh, that’s right, Spike. Keep going. I’ll get it out of you, even if I have to stake you to do it.” She advanced on him, ready to do exactly as she’d threatened, but he grabbed hold of her shoulders and held her at arms length.
“Now look, Slayer, I don’t have a soddin’ clue what you’re talking about. If you want me to answer properly you’d better explain what you want.”
She could have easily gotten out of his grasp. It wasn’t as if he were holding her tightly. But for some reason she decided to play along with his little mind-games. “All right, I’ll bite.”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders and waited expectantly.
“We both know I wasn’t acting like myself last night,” Buffy explained carefully. She wanted him to fully comprehend what she was saying so he’d have no way to deny again that he didn’t know what she was talking about. At his nod she continued. “Under normal circumstances what happened between us would *never* have happened. We both know it.”
Spike gritted his teeth. How did he know this wasn’t going to be pleasant? He was just setting himself up for more heartache. Why the bloody hell did he put up with it?
As he watched her pace in front of him he realized it was because of her. It didn’t matter what she said as long as she cared enough to say it. What he dreaded more than the hate-filled words she threw at him was her silence.
“I spent the entire day trying to figure out why I did what I did. I can’t think of anything. The only thing I could come up with is that you did something to me.” She stopped pacing and looked at him. Doubt flickered in her eyes for a second. She blinked and it was gone.
He chuckled. “You love blaming everything on me, don’t you, pet? Makes it easier to deal with yourself.” He wasn’t totally surprised by her conclusion. It was so like her to make him out to be the bad guy. And he’d take it. He knew without a doubt that he’d let her blame him and smile through it all.
His eyes passed over the length of her, noting the rigid set of her back, the closely balled fists at her sides, the hard look of her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw. She was a tightly coiled ball of tension just waiting to spring on him. All that tension was going to need a release soon.
“I’m blaming you because it’s *your* fault!” Buffy cried. Her body shook with the effort she was making to hold back from pummeling him.
He shook his head. “Not this time, pet. I may have done some things to you in the past, but I wouldn’t do that to you.” His voice had gone soft as his eyes continued to travel over her rigid body. She was taut with frustration and anger, and he longed to soothe her. “You know I love you. I know you believe it now. And you know I’d never hurt you.”
Tears threatened to spill down Buffy’s cheeks. She took a deep breath hoping it would steady her, but she lost her control and a sob was wrenched from her throat. She covered her face with her hands and cried into them.
Spike’s unbeating heart was breaking. He couldn’t stand to see her cry. He moved beside her and pulled her into his arms.
Buffy went slack in his embrace. She uncovered her face and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She let the tears flow as he mumbled soothing words into her hair and kissed the top of her head.
When her tears had finally subsided, she pulled back slightly from him. Her watery hazel eyes met his bright blue ones in a silent apology. At his smile she leaned her head back and kissed him. The feeling of his cool lips on hers sent a shiver down her spine. Her breathing quickened and her head was singing with the feeling of being alive. She needed that right now. She needed him to make her forget everything else and concentrate on living.
For a split-second, Spike was about to protest. Wasn’t this very thing they had just been fighting about? Shouldn’t she be accusing him of drugging her now?
Her mouth distracted him as she nibbled his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and their tongues met in a duel. His arms tightened around her and his hands slipped beneath her shirt to feel the warm expanse of her back.
She sighed into his mouth. At the moment, she couldn’t even remember what they had been fighting about. She was drowning in all the feelings surrounding her.
Spike pulled back, but his hands remained on her bare skin. “Buffy...”
“I’m sorry, Spike,” Buffy interrupted. She was suddenly afraid that the feelings would go away if he stopped kissing her. “I got scared and blamed you for what happened. I made myself believe that you’d done something awful to me.” She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow at his smirk. “What?”
He couldn’t help chuckling. “I was just going to say I don’t have the patience to take you downstairs, so would you mind my nice comfy chair?”
Buffy grinned and glanced at the object in question. “I think there’s a definite possibility for that chair.”
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