Chapter XIII: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
Buffy closed her eyes tightly after she finished screaming, inhaling deeply as she tried to control her breathing. When she opened her eyes again there wouldn’t be anything blemishing the skin of her neck. What happened last night had been a dream, only a dream. And what she’d seen on her neck must have been a trick of the light. ‘Yeah, that was it, just a trick of the light,’ she convinced herself. ‘Now, open your eyes slowly and you’ll see that there’s nothing there to worry about.’
She opened her eyes and almost felt like screaming again when she saw the damned thing was still there. No matter which way she turned, it was there, mocking her, taunting her.
‘Okay, Buffy, breathe in, breathe out. There has to be a perfectly logical explanation for this…this thing on your neck. There’s just absolutely no way that it can be what you think it is, is there?’
Even with the evidence staring back at her from the mirror, she refused to even entertain the idea that her dream had been anything but that. It had to be a dream, but what if it hadn’t been? What then? This couldn’t be happening, not to her. There had to be a reasonable explanation for it, maybe…maybe…
‘Maybe at some point last night Spike was really there with you in your room,’ that annoying inner voice seemed unable to stay silent as the image of platinum locks nestled between her thighs came unbidden to her mind. But no, that couldn’t be possible. Spike had gone nowhere near her room last night, she would’ve felt him if he had, wouldn’t she?
‘Oh, c’mon, you felt him, remember? You felt the change in your dream, I know you did. You felt the exact moment when William stopped being William and he became Spike. You can’t lie to me,’ inner Buffy singsong. Damn her and her knowledge of anything Buffy related! But that didn’t mean she had to accept it. Nu-uh, no way, no how.
And really, who said that dreams couldn’t change? Plus Spike had been the last guy she’d kissed, and boy, what a kiss that was! ’No, bad Buffy, there’ll be no more remembering of Spike’s kisses or anything else, especially regarding his cameo in the damned dream.’ No matter how much the idea of him doing that to her in said dream made her feel.
She shook her head to clear it from following that train of thought. It had been only a dream and nothing more than that. And nothing, not even the-the, the thing that was on her neck and that would remain nameless for the moment, would convince her of the contrary.
A pitiful whimper pulled her from her musings and with difficulty she tore her eyes away from her neck to look at Willow using the mirror. She instantly regretted it as the smidgeon of hope that blossomed in her chest that this was nothing more than a bad, very bad dream was crushed. Her friend’s expression as she stared at the…thing on her neck spoke volumes. There was no way that she’d make it out of this room without some kind of explanation, confession or whatever. And how on earth was she supposed to explain something that couldn’t possibly be happening? Because a dream was so not supposed to leave physical marks on the dreamer, of that she was sure.
Willow was closer to hyperventilating with each passing second, her gaze locked unwaveringly on the hickey on Buffy’s neck. Because it was a hickey, no amount of wishful thinking would change that fact. This was all her fault, wasn’t it? No matter which way she looked at it, it was all her fault. If she hadn’t cast that spell this wouldn’t be happening.
The worst part was that she couldn’t understand why this was happening. She did the anti-spell spell and according to her calculations and what she knew about spells, everything should have been back to normal or at least as normal as things could get in the Hellmouth.
She so wasn’t looking forward to researching this…thing, what with the increasing possibility that she might have messed up; but she’d promised Buffy she’d research the matter and research the matter she would. Perhaps she needed a little outside help? Yeah, that’s it. Since she had promised not to tell any of the others about it, she couldn’t very well ask them, now could she? But maybe that sweet, shy girl she’d befriended in her Wicca group could help her. At the very least, Tara seemed to be the only one in that lot that had an inkling of what real magic was like.
Yes, that’s what she would do and the sooner the better. And hey, if it helped her avoid the explanations that Buffy would surely ask from her now, all the better. She whimpered pitifully as her eyes focused again on the blondee girl’s neck. As if she needed any more reminders of how badly she might have messed up.
Willow must have sensed her reticence to talk; either that or she was, or wanted to be as deep in denial as the blonde girl was. Whatever the reason, Buffy gave silent thanks to whoever was listening when the redheaded girl finally stopped staring at her neck and instead babbled some nonsense of having to go to classes. She’d never been so thankful for her friend’s obsession with anything school related than at that moment. She simply couldn’t deal with any of the questions that Willow would have surely made if she’d stayed or the dreaded answers to those questions that could destroy her little dream world that this was nothing but a nightmare.
~~~~~~
Spike showed up at the house on Revello Drive at the usual time, but there was no Slayer to be found inside. Only an upset Joyce that informed him Buffy had left over thirty minutes ago for patrol.
“She seemed a bit preoccupied. Of course when I asked her what was wrong she denied anything. Did you two have a lovers’ quarrel?” Her lips curled up in a smile.
“Joyce, I...”
“Mom,” she corrected him.
“One kiss is a far cry from bein’ lovers, mum.” He rolled his eyes when her smile deepened as if she didn’t believe him. “’S probably jus’ Slayer stuff. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Inside he was more than a little upset that she hadn’t waited for him. She needed him out there with her, now more than ever. Not that he cared if she got knocked on her arse a few times. Might even help the bint to take a knock or two to the head so she’d forget all this William nonsense. “Did she say which cemetery she was goin’ to?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Bloody hell!” Sure, he could sniff her out, but it would’ve been quicker to know which direction to head in first.
“Watch your language, young man.” She waggled her finger at him.
“`M sorry.” He put his hands in his pocket and ducked his head at her scolding. The possibility that there could be any Frakor demons ou and about and the fact she’d been gone for thirty minutes already made him concerned over her safety. He wasn’t upset anymore that she hadn’t waited for him, now he was mad with her for being so reckless.
“I don’t want my baby girl out there all alone, William. As my future son-in-law, you need to find her and make sure you protect her.” She had her hands on her hips and that determined look in her eyes that said ‘don’t argue with me’. Not that he would, she could be downright scary when she wanted.
“Yes, mum.” ‘Summers’ women, stubborn and bossy till the bitter end. Gonna be the bloody death of me. But truthfully, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Well?” She raised both eyebrows and tapped her foot impatiently.
“Uhmmm... what?”
“Why are you still standing here?”
“Right then. I’ll jus’ be off to go find Bu-the Slayer then.”
“That’s my good boy.” She ruffled his hair with her fingers and chuckled when he tried to duck out of her way.
~~~~~~
Following the trail of her scent led him in the direction of the cemetery where he resided at. His level of irritation dropped a fraction when he thought that maybe she was waiting for him near his crypt and somehow they’d missed running into one another. Still, she should have waited for him. It was risky for her to be alone, what with those demons being capable of rendering her about as dangerous as a newborn kitty, a fact he obviously needed to remind her of.
He skirted around the perimeter of the cemetery then cut through a row of trees. There she was, just strolling along looking like she was bored, twirling her stake in one hand while calling out ‘here vampires’ like they were a bunch of lost kittens. He smirked when he saw the pink scarf she had tied around her neck to hide the place he’d sucked on. Let her work that one out in her pretty little head. There was no way Mr. Long Dead and Buried could have left a physical mark on her through a dream. She had to be smart enough to admit that.
His thoughts strayed as he stood there watching her, reflecting on last night’s real purpose behind breaking into her bedroom... and what he’d actually come away with, not that he was complaining. No, not complaining at all. He could practically feel how warm and soft her lips had felt against his, how smooth her skin felt under his fingers, how his taste buds came alive as her fragrant juices flowed while she trembled under his expert tongue, how she cradled his head to her womanhood and...
“You can come on out now, Spike. I know you’re there.” She’d sensed him nearly three minutes ago, so what the hell was he waiting for? A written invitation?
Snapping out of his reverie at the sound of her voice, he decided it might be fun to play with her a little bit.
“Slayer,” he nodded at her as he walked out of the shadows. “Care to tell a bloke why you decided to go on patrol early?” She rolled her eyes at him.
“You gonna give me the third degree, too?” At his look of confusion, she explained, “Already got the speech from mom. Don’t need to hear it from you, too.”
“Don’ get your knickers in a twist. I covered for you, told your mum it was probably Slayer stuff.” He pulled out a cigarette and smirked at the look of surprise on her face.
“You did? Huh. Uhmmm, thanks, I guess.” She left early so she could be alone with her thoughts about last night instead of listening to her mom go on and on about how right she and Spike were for each other. Any other night she might have humored her, but tonight? She had too many things swirling around in her head that needed sorting out.
“`S nice scarf, Slayer.” He noticed her toying with it and took the open door of opportunity. “Any particular reason why you’re wearin’ it?”
“What? N-no.” She walked away from him, hoping he’d drop the subject. “Why would you ask?” She readjusted it to make sure it covered the mystery…eh, thingy.
“You sure some nasty didn’ get a taste of you? A li’l love bite, perhaps?” He caught up with her and grabbed the tail end of the pink scrap of material, playfully tugging at it.
“Hey!” She slapped his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He dropped his hand. “Jus’ checkin’ to see if `m right.” He took a good look at her face and smirked. “Dreams kept you up last night?”
“Why would you say something like that?” She felt nervous at his questioning. He couldn’t possibly know anything about her dreams, could he? ‘Not unless it wasn’t a hallucination when you saw platinum hair below your waistline.’
“You look a bit knackered.” She looked as if he she didn’t believe him. God, he loved making her squirm... especially the way she had last night. “Circles under your eyes.” He pointed at her face.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I had a nightmare last night. And you were in it.”
‘You bloody bint.’ She was lying her Slayer ass off. She loved every minute of it and he’d swallowed the proof of what his attentions did for her needy little center. He wanted to say as much but that would blow his ruse and afterwards he’d be dust in the wind, no matter how good he’d made her feel.
“Dreamt about you, too, pet,” he went on as if what she said hadn’t pissed him off. “A right good dream it was, too.” He reached up and nonchalantly wiped his chin, hoping she caught his purposeful movement. ‘Take that.’ She was fidgeting with her scarf again and was that... He stopped dead in his tracks and sniffed the air. Yup, his Slayer was getting aroused.
As soon as he mentioned his own dream, the vision of his head between her thighs instantly sprang to mind. When he wiped his chin, there wasn’t much she could do to stop the unwanted response from her body that had her womb tightening as she remembered how intense an orgasm he, no, not he... William gave her.
“So, dust any of your fellow, non-chipped brethren on the way in?” She didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading in so she changed the subject. No way was she going to allow him to bait her into asking what his dream had entailed. “Spike?” He wasn’t walking with her anymore; he was standing behind her smelling the air with his eyes closed. “What is it?” She wondered what kind of demon he’d picked up on because she sensed no other vampires around except for him. “A Freaky demon?”
“Frakor demon, luv, but no…” Opening his eyes, he walked towards her and shook his head in the negative, stopping to stand before her. “Somethin’ a bit more,” he leaned in close to her face, “tasty.”
“Tasty? Are you on something tonight?” She backed away from him but he followed her.
“Not yet, but `m hopin’ too.” He exaggerated his inhale and looked down her body then slowly raked his eyes back up to hers. “Mmmmmmm.” He licked his bottom lip.
“Ewwww. Gross, Spike. I don’t know where you get off thinking anything is ever going to happen between you and I.” He gave her another one of those irritating smirks.
“I know where I’d like to get off.” He hooked both thumbs through his belt and rocked on his heels, forcing his groin out a bit to emphasize his point.
She raised Mr. Pointy threateningly at him, even as she backed herself up into a tree against his steady advance. “You are two seconds away from being dust if you don’t stop with that. Back the hell OFF!”
“You know you don’ really want to do that, sweetheart.” He raised his hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist with lightening speed and pulled the stake directly over his heart.
“What the hell are you doing?” Was he insane? He knew she couldn’t dust him and not because of whatever the hell was going on between them or because he made her body quiver in all the right places with a single look from those sinfully blue eyes, no. She just needed his help on patrol. She certainly didn’t need him between her legs like he was suggesting even though the thought coupled with his suggestive remarks were causing the tingle between her thighs to spread. ‘Damn him, what the hell is he trying to prove?’
He held his smirk then released her wrist to run his fingers over hers. Gripping the stake lightly, he started stroking it up and down suggestively, tilting his head to side as he heard her heart rate increase. “You know you wanna dance,” he whispered.
“Shut the hell up!”
“Make me,” he said, infuriating smirk firmly in place.
Something snapped inside her then, something primal, something she refused to acknowledge, something that made her pounce on him, made her drop the stake to the ground so she could put her hands on his cheeks and forcefully bring his mouth down to smash against hers.
Her only intention had been to shut him up. It seemed like a good idea at the time, the perfect way to silence him. It wasn’t as if she wanted to experience yet again how his silky, cool lips felt over hers, how his tongue played against hers as they got lost in the taste of the other, how his hands seemed to know exactly where to touch her to make her skin hum with pleasure and her blood boil with passion. No, no, of course not, that hadn’t been her intention at all. So, how it had escalated from there to where they were now she wasn’t sure. If she were to be completely honest with herself right now, she’d have to admit that she couldn’t care less about the how; the only thing that mattered at the moment was that she was here, wrapped in his arms, surrounded by the hunky flesh of salty goodness that was Spike.
She moaned huskily as their tongues entwined and his hand crept up to cup her breast over her lacy bra. She hadn’t even noticed when he’d slid his hand under her top, but she wasn’t about to complain. Especially not when the feelings he was eliciting inside her reminded her of those she’d felt the night before in her dream. He circled her waist with his free arm, and without stopping his sinfully delicious kisses, pulled her away from the tree and half-carried her until her back was completely flattened against a crypt wall.
He wasn’t sure why he’d felt bold enough to taunt the Slayer like he had. By all rights she should have dusted him. But now that she was in his arms where she belonged, kissing him back, allowing him to touch her, running her own hands all over his body, well, it seemed opening his big mouth had paid off for once. He groaned as she fumbled with his shirt to slide her hands inside then dragged her sharp little fingernails down the skin of his back. He gave her an experimental thrust to see just how far she would allow this to go. She responded by raising one leg up to wrap it around his thigh. He growled low in his throat at the feel of her warmth as he rubbed his erection against her center. God, he wanted to be inside her so bad right now.
Any rational thoughts she may have had left in her head over what she was doing and why flew out the window the moment he began pumping his hips against hers. He felt so good, fit so perfectly between her legs, everything felt so right. She could feel her underwear becoming soaked at the thought of how it would feel to have him sliding in and out of her. As he pressed her harder against the stone wall, she tried to bring her other leg up, desperate for more contact.
He sensed the intent behind her movements and reached both hands around, cupped her luscious bottom and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist.
He was driving her insane with lust. His strong hands held her backside, pulling her firmly into his thrusts while his amazing lips devoured her. Her body responded, undulating against his in unison with his movements, trying to find release even though they were both still fully clothed. She had to have more. Using one arm, she reached behind her and pushed against the wall, forcing him to stagger backwards.
The smell of her arousal was so strong, so intoxicating to both the man and the vampire that he could feel his demon screaming to allow him to come forth. Not to kill her, oh no, to claim her, to take her hard and make her his. He pushed his demon down, forced him back, aware that his Slayer wouldn’t want that and neither did he. Not like this at least, maybe someday… Suddenly, he was stumbling backwards and tripped over a headstone before he could regain his balance, landing flat on his back with an armful of slayer who picked up the beat of their kissing by grabbing his face as she rocked her hips against his. He squeezed her bottom firmly and rolled them over.
“Ahhh,” she gasped as he flipped them over, pressing his weight against her, pushing the rock hard bulge between his legs even harder into her, creating an intense friction on her clit she thought for sure was going to send her over the edge. She held his head as he assaulted her mouth again, his tongue sweeping across hers, drawing more moans from her throat, creating a need in her womb so great she wanted to weep.
Her passion filled moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on to reach a hand between them to pop open the button of her jeans.
Neither saw nor heard the sound of a newly risen vampire as he made his way out of the earth. He righted himself, shook the dirt from his clothes then looked around as he sniffed the air. There was another vampire near by and something else. Something just as powerful as a vampire but it was laced with the scent of sex. Confused, he walked around a rather large gravestone towards the sound of moaning and took in the sight with much curiosity. He could tell the man was the vampire, but the woman, though she held power, was most definitely not. Matter of fact, she smelled mostly human. His bloodlust to feed was temporarily pushed to the side, however, as he watched the couple writhing about on the ground in mock fornication. Why wasn’t this vampire feeding from her? He was in a perfect position to rip her throat out. It was disgusting, it was wrong, he shouldn’t be trying to fuck her, he should be draining her. He saw the vampire reach for the girl’s pants and had enough of the sickening display. He cleared his throat, once, twice...
The sound of someone clearing their throat brought their attention to the left to stare at a man in soiled clothes and full vampire visage as he stared down at them with his hands on his hips.
“Uhmm… Eww. That’s just... ewwww.” He shook his head back and forth.
Everything hit her at once, the reality of what she was doing, what she was about to do —or rather who she was about to let do her— the fact there was another vampire around and neither of them had noticed, too busy trying to get it on. No, no, this wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. Pressing her hands to his chest, she shoved him off her body and leapt up to retrieve her stake.
Spike lay on the ground unsure of what the fuck had happened. One second he’d had his arms full of very willing Slayer and the next, she’d thrown him away from her delectable body. He watched her as she moved quickly, throwing her stake directly at the other vampire who instantly exploded. He got to his feet just as she bent over to pick up her weapon.
She turned to find Spike taking a step towards her, opening his mouth to speak. She held her hand up. “Don’t.” She couldn’t deal with this, with him, with whatever it was he was going to say.
He stopped, seeing the scared look in her eyes right before she took two steps backwards then turned and bolted out of the cemetery. He called out to her.
"Buffy, please! SLAYER!!!" It was of no use, she wasn’t going to stop and listen to anything he had to say. He really buggered things up now and wasn’t sure how, if at all possible, to fix it. He looked down at the painful erection that now throbbed with all the blood left in his body. “Bloody hell!” He’d have to think it over later because right now, he was left for a second night in a row with nothing but his hand for relief. If they kept this dance up on a nightly basis, he was going to develop one hell of a callous.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took Buffy fifteen minutes under the spray of an ice cold shower to get her body cooled down and all sexual thoughts of Spike out of her mind. What was she thinking? What was he thinking? Okay, okay, it felt nice, incredible, amazing... exactly the reason why it shouldn’t have happened. She had William to think about. William loved her, not Spike. Spike wasn’t capable of love, was he?
The sudden thought that perhaps William had written her back had her scrambling to put on her pajamas and get back to her room, forget about blow-drying her hair.
She walked towards the desk but froze before touching it. William had her picture now, knew what she looked like. Was she what he had envisioned, would she be pretty enough to him? Would he still love her? She had to know, had to find out. Closing her eyes, she pulled on the secret panel and held her breath.
Opening her eyes she found that he’d left her not one, but two letters, or rather one letter and one package less than half an inch thick and square shaped. She carefully picked them both up. The square package was wrapped up in brown parcel paper with twine-like string holding it together. She weighed it in her hand, examined it, half tempted to just rip into it in hopes it was his picture but she couldn’t. Not until she’d satisfied her worry over what he thought of her. She walked to the bed, laid the package on her nightstand then offered up a silent prayer and opened his letter.
My dearest Elizabeth,
The moment I saw your portrait, all breath left my body. Every word for beautiful entered my head, but none was worthy enough to describe your heavenly image. It seems I was correct. You are an angel, my angel. Of all the beautiful women I have seen, not one could ever hope to compare themselves to your loveliness. Please do not misunderstand my ranting, for your beauty goes much farther and deeper than that which your photograph shows me. It pours out through your eyes so green, like the finest of jade from the Orient. It radiates and glows all around you like an effulgent vision of heaven on earth. I swore I could almost feel the silk of your skin as I tried to touch that beauty in hopes of bringing you to life to stand before me so I could bathe in it. I knew even before seeing you that I was in love, but now I fear I am lost. Hopelessly lost and drowning in you though I wish not to be saved.
I must admit that I had a most trying day full of many troubles before I came upon your letter. But your heartfelt words soothed my soul and put my mind at ease like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day. The poem you chose to convey your feelings moved me, so much so that I do not know nor care to remember what my life was like before you entered it.
As I lay in my bed, weary from the day and in need of rest, one thought from you stayed with me as I drifted off. I do not know if it was that thought or the power of my own desire for it to happen, but I dreamt of you. It was a blissful dream, one in which I obtained your permission for a kiss and your lips tasted of the sweetest nectar. I hope that does not scare you, but it felt so real, like I was truly there with you. When I woke, it saddened me that it was only a dream but reaffirmed my desire to find a way for us to be together one day.
I have enclosed a photograph of myself and can only hope that you do not find me repulsive. I don’t think I could bare it if I lost you. So I pray that when you gaze upon it, you find something about me to your liking.
Your William
She clutched the letter to her chest. Her heart rate picked up when she read his words to describe the flavor of her lips, sweet nectar, and the fact he asked for her permission, just as he’d done in her dream. This seemed a bit more than just a mere coincidence but she quickly reminded herself that his way of speaking, of writing was from a much different era and maybe that’s why she dreamt of him saying something like that. And being ever the Victorian gentleman, of course he would ask her permission, unlike someone else, or rather one vampire in particular who never asked her permission for anything even if she was the one who initiated their kiss.
She shook that thought from her head. There will be no thoughts of Spike while holding William’s letter. She set the letter down and leaned over to retrieve William’s package that contained his picture. She carefully pulled the string and the paper unfolded slowly on its own. What was revealed to her made her heart nearly stop.
“No,” she whispered. “It can’t be.”
tbc
Hope you’re still with us in this story. Happy Valentine’s Day tomorrow!
*smooches and hugs*