Chapter 6: That Flesh is Heir to
Spike ran back to his crypt. He was elated. When Buffy had first shown up in his class, he'd been terrified. But all things considered, it had gone amazingly well. She'd been mad, but she hadn't laughed at him. He didn't know what he would have done if she laughed.
Even telling her about his poetic past, hadn't gone to badly. And judging by her embarrassed reaction when the Scoobies showed up, she wasn't going to tell them, so that was all right.
And he had gotten to her, touched her with that bit of Eliot. Maybe even with the Hamlet. Little by little, he was getting close to her. She was letting him in, at the same time she was keeping her friends out. He just wished it wasn't because she was in pain. He'd do anything to take her pain away, if only he knew how.
So Spike ran, enjoying the feeling of the wind on his face, the blur of the world as it passed under his feet, and the general exhilaration of being undead.
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Buffy was miserable. She lay in her bed, tossing and turning. She hadn't really been tired, but she'd told her friends she was, so that she could escape their questioning eyes. They had obvious been dubious about her hurried explanation for why she was holding Spike's hand, although none of them really suspected it was because she was harboring any nice feelings toward Spike. They were more afraid that he'd cast some sort of love spell over her, or something.
Buffy almost wished she was under some sort of spell. Not a love spell, because she didn't love Spike, but something magical and beyond her control to explain why the first time she'd felt safe since she'd been ripped from the grave was in Spike's arms.
It was beyond wrong, and it didn't make any sense. But it was there, it was undeniable, and it was driving her crazy.
She rolled onto her back, and looked at the celling. It seemed like the walls were moving in on her and she couldn't breathe. She had to get out of there. Without thinking, or pausing, she shoved open her window and crawled outside into the cool night air.
As soon as her feet hit the soft grass of her front lawn, she was moving. Her lungs pulled in the cool night air, and as she ran, she almost felt alive. Or rather, she almost felt she could stand being alive. She didn't even mind the discomfort as feet that were used to wearing shoes, ran bare across the sidewalks of Sunnydale.
Even though she could remember deciding to go there, she wasn't really surprised when she found herself at the door to Spike's crypt. She almost grabbed the door and flung it open, but then she realized she was standing there in nothing but a white cotton tank top, and her blue Power Puff Girl pajama bottoms. Her hair was hanging limply from a scrunchie, and she was sure it was a mess.
She stood there for what seemed like an age trying to decide what to do. Finally she decided that she'd feel sillier going back home without having done anything, than letting Spike see her like this, so hesitantly she knocked on the stone door of the crypt. There was no answer, but then she hadn't knocked very hard.
Deciding she'd been polite enough, she opened the door. As soon as it opened she was bombarded with sound. It was no wonder Spike hadn't heard, her even with vampire hearing. The horrible noise that Spike considered music was blaring through his crypt.
Buffy quickly moved inside, closing the door behind her. She didn't want the noise to draw then attention of anyone else who might be wandering the graveyard at night. She really didn't feel like slaying at the moment, not to mention that she'd left the house without a stake.
Spike was nowhere to be seen, but across the room the floor glowed, where light streamed up from the trap door to the lower level. That was also where the music was coming from.
Not really wanting to go down there, she knelt at the edge of the opening, and was about to yell for Spike, when she froze, and her eyes went wide.
'Spike's ass! Spike's naked ass!' were the only thoughts her mind became capable of. She could see him in the soft glow of candle light. The angle and size of the trap door only allowed her to see him from the middle of his back, down to his mid-calf. But it was enough, especially considering that he seemed to be completely naked.
She felt, rather than heard herself let out a gasp. Luckily with the music so loud there was no way Spike could hear her. She was mesmerized by the strange gyrations of his body, and couldn't for the life of her figure out what he was doing. Then he bent his knees, jumped into the air, and spun around, and it all became clear. He was playing air guitar.
But even as her brain put that together, it completely shut off. Now that he was facing her, she could no longer see his ass. Instead she found herself looking at his erection which was thrusting madly in and out of the empty air.
'Wow he's big,' was Buffy's only coherent thought, as her body began to respond to the display in front of her. She squeezed her legs together as she began to tingle, and her fingers itched to measure the thickness of his cock personally. She unclenched her thighs, and one hand moved to rub herself through the cotton of her pajamas.
Before she could, however, Spike stopped, disappeared from view, and suddenly the music was gone. Buffy froze. In the silence that followed the beating of her heart seemed to thunder in her ears and she had no doubt that Spike now knew she was there.
He started speaking before he was even up the ladder. "She something you li-" As soon as he was high enough up the ladder to see her, he stopped. His smug look replaced by one of concern. "Are you all right?"
But she had forgotten about her emotional state, overcome by his physical state. He crawled out of the trap and sat beside her.
"Buffy?" he asked when she didn't respond.
Her body was screaming for her to take him. She knew he was willing and ready. All she had to do was make the first move. But despite the fact that he was the only person she could stand being around right now. Despite the fact that he made things seem not too bad, she had to remind herself that he was an evil vampire. A soulless thing.
Her hand reached out and touched his forehead. "Show me?" she asked him.
He looked at her puzzled, but complied with her request. She could feel the ridges on his forehead emerge beneath her fingertips. Yellow eyes regarded her instead of blue and she could see the sharp edges of his fangs between his lips.
It should have disgusted her, it should have reminded her what he was, that he wasn't just some hot guy, that he wasn't even human. It didn't work.
Instead before she knew what she was doing, she had leaned forward and kissed him. His mouth opened to her, and she thrust her tongue inside, purposely cutting it on his fangs. Hoping to bring out the bloodlust in him.
His arms were around her, and he gently pulled her down until she was lying on the floor. Then he covered her body with his own. She opened her legs, and let him nestle his cock between them and began to rub himself against her.
It wasn't enough for her. She needed him now. Her hands moved down to her waist, and she began trying to push down the pajama bottoms. As soon as he realized what she was doing, his own hands where there to help, as he kissed her even deeper.
Finally she was free of them, and her eager hands found his cock, guiding it to her entrance. Spike pulled back from the kiss to look her in the eye as he thrust inside of her.
Her back arched as his length pushed inside of her, spreading her open. It seemed like it had been forever since she'd had this. At least a lifetime. Or maybe she'd never had this before. She couldn't remember anyone feeling so good inside her.
Once he was fully inside her, she wrapped her legs around him and he paused to let her adjust to him. That's when he noticed the blood on her lips. His features slipped back into the human face he preferred to wear anyway, and there was a look of horror in his blue eyes.
"Oh, god baby. I'm sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," he apologized.
One moment she'd been lost in the forbidden bliss of Spike's body. The next he was apologizing for giving her exactly what she wanted, what she was pretty sure they both wanted. Without thinking she hit him with what should have been enough force to knock him off of her, except he was still buried in her, and she still had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Instead the force of the blow, knocked his upper body away but forced his lower body even harder against hers, eliciting a moan of pleasure from both of them.
Still, Spike responded much as she had, and without thinking, hit her back. She was about to respond to his violence with a bitter comment, when simultaneously they realized the same thing. The chip hadn't gone off.
They responded at the same moment, she tried to push him off of her, and he tried to pin her arms to the ground. Their position gave him the advantage and he quickly had her arms held down uselessly above her head.
But during the brief struggle their whole bodies had moved against each other, and despite the fact that Buffy was wrestling to get her hands free, her lower body was moving with Spike's in a pleasurable rhythm as he thrust himself in and out of her.
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Shh, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. Gonna make this so good."
"Bastard!" she yelled without thinking, even as a moan of pleasure escaped her lips.
With every thrust he bumped her clit, sending spirals of pleasure through her body. It all felt so good, why did he have to be so stupid about it?
"Scream a little more when you say that," he teased her as he drew back to look at her again.
She looked at him defiantly, straight in the eye, and then realized what a mistake that was. In that moment Spike read her, saw right through to the depths of her.
The demon emerged once more. "Is this what you want?" he asked. "Do you want me to hurt you?"
She whimpered as he increased the tempo of his thrusts. It was simply not possible to lie when that much pleasure was coursing through her veins.
"Yes!" she yelled, and she thought she saw sadness in his eyes.
He leaned forward and she felt his fangs scratch her neck. "Is this what you want?" he asked again.
There was no longer any room for thought. For hiding or lying. "Please, yes," she begged him.
Then his fans sank into the tender flesh of her skin. There was pain for a moment, which she greeted gladly. And then wave after wave of pleasure hit her body, as she seemed to explode underneath him.
She could hear him moan against her neck, as the force of her orgasm carried him along with her. Then the world went black.
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Spike had never been so happy, or so terrified in his entire life. Gently he pulled the scrunchie from the tangled hair of the sleeping slayer, letting her golden locks spill over her naked shoulders.
She was so beautiful, so perfect, and at this moment, as she slept, so peaceful. But Spike had no illusions about that peace lasting. He wanted to delude himself about what she was here, with him, in his bed, or rather on his floor, but he couldn't. She had made it all to clear what she wanted from him. What he alone could offer her. Death.
He felt foolish for not seeing it before, after all, he was the one who once told her that all slayers have a death wish. He should have known, when she told him that she'd been in heaven, that being alive again was like being in hell, he should have realized that she would look for a way to die again.
And now she hoped she'd found it in him. That if she kept pushing him, one day he would lose control, and she would die in his arms.
He didn't know what to do, how to hold on to her. He thought of telling her friends, but they were the ones responsible for the whole mess in the first place. Besides, he couldn't think of a way to convince them that she was suicidal without betraying her confidence. And if he did that, it would push her away from him. She would shut him out, and she was so alone already, that that might push her to more desperate measures.
That was the funny thing. He didn't have to worry about her telling the others about his chip not working, or even doing anything about it, because she needed him now. That should have made him happy, to be needed by her. But not like this.
He felt so helpless that he could do only one thing. He whispered to her sleeping form, "I'm going to take care of you, baby. Gonna make it all better, luv. Not going to let anything happen to you."
She smiled in her sleep, and turned over in his arms, to snuggle against him.
The End
3. Genre/tone you want, i.e., angst, fluffy, romantic etc. - erm...hot; other than that I don't mind
4. Up to 3 things you would like to see in your fic - biting/claiming, handholding in front of the Scoobies, Spike doing his 'sexy dance'
5. Up to 3 things you don't want to see in your fic - no other pairing but Spuffy other than that anything goes
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, I'm really sorry it took so long to post this last chapter. I actually thought I had already posted it until I noticed a review on the last chapter and realized I'd never posted this chapter. Sorry.