[Reviews - 9]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2906 times

- Text Size +




Disclaimer: Everyone should bloody well know by now that I don't own even a smidgen of the rights to these delicious characters. The creator of BTVS does which is fine and dandy.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Her mind reeled and screamed at her to stop the madness. But her body wasn't listening or worse yet it wasn't responding. The sensations that swept over her the instant she kissed him were consuming her from head to toe. She felt him tense up, felt his nerves twitch at her first touch, then he relaxed, his lips melding against hers, a wonderfully perfect fit. Both of them exploring each other's tantalizing mouths. Hers warm, his cool. Both open and wanting. Had it always been like this for her? Wanting and needing so much? Was this the cause of all the frustrations between them, the fighting, verbal shouting matches, the need she felt to inflict bodily hurt on him whenever he drove her to the brink of anger? Was all of it their way of foreplay?

She felt him gently grab her forearms and pull her even closer. The same time she wove her fingers through his hair above the nape of his neck and pressed, kneading, pulling him closer to her. She had an urge to breathe and broke away, heard him moan slightly at the loss of Buffy lips as she gasped and delved in for more. The only thing playing in the back of her mind during the scenario was how different he was compared to the other vampire that had existed in her life.

Thinking of Angel and kissing Spike sent her in a spiral. She suddenly knew she had to stop or else she may never want to. Her mind began to function clearly as she realized she was trying to pay him back for lying to her. Enact revenge.

'Think, damn it, Buffy think,' she screamed at herself.

She suddenly became quite aware of the visitor that arose between them and knew things had to be tapered off but quickly. She could easily just shut her mind off and let one thing lead to another. But, she knew, would only make matters worse and she needed some answers.

Buffy pulled away slowly even though his face followed her retreating one. Their foreheads touched slightly and she complied to him and stayed in that position.

"Spike?" she barely could speak.

"Hmmm?"

Buffy pulled back staring at him, saw his brow crease with the loss of her touch. As if right on cue, his eyes snapped open.

"I mean, Buffy, yes, me, William. Not Spike. Not---."

"Why did you call me Slayer earlier tonight?" He looked almost surprised by her question.

"What? When?"

"When I was dishing out my icecream. How did you know? How did you know I was the Slayer? I never told you and I know no one else told you and all my weapons are locked up. Why did you call me that?"

Spike was stunned into silence, his mind working on high speed.

"I'm sure you told me, Buffy. Didn't you? Maybe it's some of the residual memories of Spike. Yes, I believe---." Buffy backed away from him a few paces, arms crossed diligently over her chest.

"Don't give me that cockamamie story. Are you going to come clean? Tell me the truth?"

"Tell you the truth? I'm---I'm not sure what it is you want to hear. Buffy-- -," he tried to be reasoning.

"Fine. When did you get your memory back, Spike?"

"My---memory?"

She threw her arms up with disgust, sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"You know when you start repeating my questions back to me, it's a sure sign you are trying to come up with another lie to get yourself out of dutch."

There was an uneasy silence between the two. Spike finally shifted and groaned uneasily.

"Sunday night, sometime around midnight." He mumbled not looking at her. He lifted his eyes and looked at her almost pleadingly. "But Buffy---."

She held up a hand to silence him. "I don't want to hear anything right now. Leave. I don't want to see you back in this house or around any of my family or friends again. And Spike, that includes me."

She noticed the look of astonishment on his face as he stood staring at her. He didn't budge. She walked over to him, grabbed him by the arm and walked him briskly to the front door.

"Buffy," he growled out. "Please, let me explain."

"Not now!" she snapped.

She swung the door open swiftly and pushed him out onto the porch. He turned around, a look of hurt in his eyes, and took a step back towards the doorway.

"Buffy, I---I love you."

She scowled, a look of disgust apparent on her face as she shut the door and locked it. He placed his palm against it, leaning forward til his head touched the solid wood and sighed sadly. On the other side, Buffy had her back against it, eyes shut tightly with the lingering anger. She felt a twinge in the pit of her stomach and turning her head so her ear rested against the door, she knew he was still there.

"Go home," she said slightly above a whisper.

"I thought I was home," came the dejected reply from the other side. And then he was gone. Confusion, hurt, anger, longing all settled upon her shoulders. She pushed off from the door and began to sulk towards the basement.

"This was supposed to have a happy ending," she told herself as she walked down the steps. She started to punch at the bag hanging from the rafter, beating it to a pulp as she envisioned it being a certain vampire.

"Why does it always end up with the lying and betrayal, and deceipt, and--- and---anger, resentment, pain, hate, longing, needing, wanting, lusting, loving." She stopped the wailing on the bag and began to wonder.

"Wait! What? Did he say that he loved me? He can't---I mean there's no--- Can he?" She growled and unconciously began to destroy the basement, her temper giving away and going way out of control as things went flying this way and that. She kicked a small bookshelf with her foot and it toppled over, the paperback romances her mom stored down there to read while waiting on laundry scattering everywhere.

Something caught her attention and she stopped her assault on the inanimate objects now strewn across the dank basement floor. A notebook had been hidden behind the shelf and it looked like one of Dawn's school notebooks. Buffy took a few breaths to calm herself as she bent over to pick it up. In the bottom right corner were three letters. WEW. That didn't make sense, wasn't a familiar word that she knew of. She opened the front cover and saw the fluid script on the first page. She realized in a split second that it was not Dawn's nor her mother's handwriting. Which meant it could only be one other person's.

She heard loud footsteps above her and the basement door flew open. Dawn stepped down onto the second step.

"Buffy?" Dawn sounded scared.

"I'm here, Dawnie. Go on back to bed. Everything's fine, had a---" she looked around the messy basement. "a demon to tame. Got it under control so go to sleep now."

"Promise to tell me more tomorrow then?"

"Yes, I will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Buffy."

She waited, listening for her sister's retreating steps to go back upstairs and then situated herself on the bottom step. On the first page, she realized it was really nothing but a bunch of words. Words like scared, nervous, confused and near the bottom turned into safe, caring, happy, loved. The letters WEW were written in the bottom corner again. How strange.

The second page was a short story. A sentimental story about his mother and his sister. Buffy felt guilty for reading something that so clearly came from his heart. He missed them dearly. When it ended with William's signature, she realized it wasn't a story, but a letter he had written to them. Ok, so yes, maybe he was capable of love. But he thought he was human then. Did it matter? This would go against everything Buffy was ever told about vampires and the demons who took over their bodies. Was it possible for vampires to keep any form of humanity? She didn't know if she should continue on. It was almost like reading someone's diary.

She flipped through the pages and noticed most of them contained basically poems. A few were short and didn't really mean very much to her. She never really did understand the benefits of reading poetry. Four bold words in particular caught her eye as she slowly sifted through the filled pages.

HER NAME IS BUFFY was written all in capital letters and under it a poem. She felt the stronge urge to read it.

Who is this being that flitters to and fro,

Constant on the go.

A stranger perhaps but strange no less,

For when I see her now, pure comfort and tenderness.

Lest I forget the feeling I embued upon my first sight.

Maddening confusion, deafening silence, creeping fright.

Til I heard her speak twice the time.

Gentleness flowed from her lips to ears of mine.

I cannot say what has come over me this day.

The fears, uncertainties have melted away.

Her kind and caring gifts she has bestowed,

has created new feelings that I have never known.~~

Below it was his name, William Edward Winters, III, in beautiful script. So that was what the WEW stood for. She never knew Spike had such beautiful handwriting either. But, she recalled, she had never seen anything written in his hand before, well, until tonight.

She continued going through the notebook and came across a sappy love poem she knew was written for her. Had to be since it described her and her features. She was a little embarrassed after reading it. She realized then that William had fallen for her. Great, wonderful. What was it about her that not only made Spike fall for her but his human alter ego go for her as well? She sat and pondered the question. Couldn't figure anything out.

The rest of the pages were mostly blank except for a few doodles, a few words scattered here and there. She was about ready to close the notebook when the last page fluttered open. It was dated today, well yesterday since it was now in the early morning hours of the next day, this day, and oh nevermind. It was Tuesday. There seemed to be written a few choice Spikisms, especially about the "bloody poufter William" and his "sappy Buffy love poems". Some things caught her off guard though. Spike had written a short paragraph, almost an oath if you will, depicting promises he must have thought that he could keep. Promises to: 'protect her and hers, watch over them, help her fight the baddies and keep her town safe from harm, and to fight by her side til the end of time, whenever that was.' But the one that made her gasp outloud was the last sentence. 'To love her forever and always, to never leave her, and to give her what she deems she rightly deserves.'

She felt her eyes began to burn as they travelled down the page. The page actually ended with a poem that she knew was written by the vampire himself but in the still flawless script she was sure would always be a constant of his human side. She gently shut the notebook, sighed wearily and headed back upstairs, coveting the book closely to her chest. It would rest under her pillow tonight. She would give it back to him in the morning after she got out of class.

TBC





You must login (register) to review.