Chapter Ten
The Slayer was pacing impatiently, her trust in Spike at war with her distrust of the disturbed woman she knew Anne to be. Visions of Spike chained to a wall, kept on a leash like a pet, flitted through her brain and she scolded herself for being a fool. Nevertheless, when she heard the click of the key in the lock, she leapt on him before he was even fully inside, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him thoroughly before pulling back to look at his face and confirm that he still remembered her.
His happy grin at her enthusiastic welcome told her it was still her Spike and she relaxed and let herself slide down, blushing slightly.
“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to attack you. I just was getting worried that-“
“Buffy.” He tipped her chin up to look at his face. “If there is one thing you never have to apologize for ,it’s being glad to see me. If I have to watch your face light up like that for another hundred years, it won’t be too long.”
He stepped back to take in her appearance, feeling another surge of warmth in his chest when he saw that she was dressed for him. She was wearing a short, tight, black skirt and a red halter top that scooped low in front to show a generous amount of cleavage. Boots with heels and a light jacket completed the look and he whistled admiringly.
“You like?” She preened in front of him, grateful that she had brought along clothes in his favorite colors.
“If I liked any more, you’d be missing your dinner AND your patrol tonight,” he growled, pulling her close to show her the effect it had on him.
She giggled her appreciation and dropped her hand to stroke him through his jeans. When he growled at her, she giggled again and said coyly, “I’m just checking to see if my wardrobe had the desired effect. Now that I know it has, we can go out.”
“Not so fast there, Slayer. You don’t get to start something like that and just walk away from it.”
He grabbed her hand and put it back on his now fully erect cock, moaning appreciatively when she squeezed it gently. His hands slid down to cup her ass and he pulled her against him, growling when she wrapped one leg around his hip to grind their pelvises together. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and he lifted her up so that she could wrap her other leg around him. Her skirt was pushed up to her waist, leaving nothing between them but the rapidly dampening denim of his jeans. When Spike realized she wasn’t wearing underwear, his demon burst forth and he slammed Buffy back against the door, growling in a way that went straight to her core.
Her hand slipped between them to lower his zipper and once again their actions mimicked a scene from their past as she lowered herself carefully. Their eyes never lost contact while Buffy began to ride him slowly, staring into the demon’s fierce amber glare. Unafraid, she stared back, seeing the unmistakable devotion that was visible even through the eyes of the beast. She leaned in to him and kissed his mouth, deliberately nicking her tongue on a sharp fang and reveling in the sensations as he greedily sucked on the wound.
The feel of her blood being drawn into his mouth set off shivers all over her body and she was soon clenching around him as she ground her clit into his body. Her rich blood had its usual effect on him, and he quickly joined her in a quick, fierce conclusion to their sudden joining.
They clung together for several minutes, the slayer trying to recover her equilibrium and the vampire gasping for unneeded air. Buffy finally unwrapped her legs and let them drop to the floor, knowing instinctively that he would support her weight with his arms.
“I guess that’s what’s known as a ‘quickie’,” she mumbled against his shirt. She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest and smiled to herself, trying to remember if she’d ever heard him laugh after sex. She was suddenly seized with emotion as she realized that she was actually being held by the vampire she’d thought was dead twice over. She began to tremble and tears leaked from her eyes as she clutched his biceps tightly.
“What’s this all about now, love?” his soft, concerned voice telling her he was once again wearing the face of the man who loved her. “It wasn’t all that bad, was it?” he joked, trying to get her to lift her head so he could see what was wrong.
“It wasn’t bad,” she sniffled. “It’s just that it was…you’re really here. You’re alive and I’m touching you and I never thought—“
“And you’re not a bloody wet dream,” he agreed, immediately understanding her. “You’re Buffy and you love me and I’m not sure whether to believe it or not. Afraid I’m going to wake up and find out I’ve been unconscious for three days and dreamed the whole bloody thing, yeah?”
She nodded against his chest, rubbing her face on him like a cat marking its owner. “I thought you were gone forever,” she said softly. “That I’d let you die for me, thinking I was lying to you because I waited too long to say it.”
Buffy raised her head and looked at him with watery eyes. “I was so proud of you, I didn’t even cry at first. Every time somebody would try to say something about missing you I would go, ‘Hey! He died to save the world. My Spike saved the world. He’s a hero.’ Then, people stopped talking about you and I started to really miss you. I used to sleep all the time because when I was asleep I could pretend you were still here. I could dream about…”
She shook her head and with one of her abrupt changes in mood, she glared at him. “And all that time I was grieving, you were living it up in LA with Angel. I should send you to hell with him for doing that to me.”
“There is no way to tell you how sorry I am for that, pet. I just…I listened to the big poof when he said you’d moved on and I should let you go on and have your nice normal life. That you’d earned it. And he was right. You have earned it. You deserve better. Children, sunshine, no slaying unless you need a spot of violence—“
“That was HIS stupid idea of what I wanted. Not mine! I wanted you. And I thought I’d never see you again, never kiss you, never see you looking at me like I was something precious…”
“Isn’t that how the Immortal looks at you?” He growled, determined to defend himself against the guilt flaring up again. “Seems to me you were coping pretty we-“
“The Immortal? What the hell does a couple weeks of pretending to be interested in his slimy self so I could figure out how to kill him have to do with grieving for you? You don’t seriously think I…You do! You think I was…is that why you didn’t call me? You really thought I had forgotten you that quickly?”
Her eyes teared up again and he mentally kicked himself for believing the information from Wollfram and Hart’s informants and Andrew’s off hand “she’s moved on”.
“I’m a bloody coward and an absolute wanker.” He let go of her and hung his head. “I just never thought—“
“You didn’t think I really loved you,” she said dully. “You didn’t come because you thought I didn’t really want you.”
He sighed and rested his chin on her head. “Not quite that simple, pet. I knew you cared. Couldn’t have missed it, the things you did for me that last year. Getting me off the Hellmouth, not staking me when I was killin’, saving me from the First, getting m’chip out. But you’d have done the same for anybody you cared about – any one of the Scoobies. Didn’t have to mean you loved me. Not the way I wanted you to.
“But you’d said it, you know? You said those words when you thought I was dying and I didn’t want to put you on the spot. Didn’t want you to be with me because you thought you owed me or because you didn’t want to take them back. I was just afraid, love. I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“If you promise never to leave me again,” she muttered as she straightened her skirt out, futilely trying to push out the wrinkles they’d just put in it.
“Never,” he whispered, brushing his lips over her face. “I’m your shadow for the rest of your life.”
“’K, then. You’re forgiven. For that. But look what you did to my skirt!”
“If you think I’m letting you go out in that skirt and no knickers…”
Buffy giggled at his sudden shift from begging for forgiveness to possessive growling, flipping her hand at him as she rummaged around in a drawer for some pants. When she pulled out underwear to go with them, he stopped her with a, “Don’t get carried away there, pet. Just don’t want the goodies to be visible – doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be accessible.” He gave her his best leer, curling his tongue up behind his teeth in a reminder of how agile and strong it was.
After a nice dinner in a small restaurant where the owner seemed to know and like Spike, they wandered hand-in-hand through the darkened streets, confident that they were unlikely to meet anything capable of harming a master vampire and a powerful slayer. They found themselves wandering toward the cemetery where Buffy had found vampires or demons every night so far and she was reminded of the demon of the other night.
“You know what I just remembered?” she said, swinging his hand like they were strolling in the sunshine or at the mall, rather than entering a dark graveyard.
“What’s that, pet?”
“When Giles got turned into a Faryl demon, Ethan said they could only be killed with something silver, and we just used a stake and fangs on that one the other night. Do you think he wasn’t really dead?”
“Dunno, don’t care,” he said carelessly. “If he could get up and run away with a stake in his heart and half his throat ripped out, more power to him. I remember ripping the head off one once. He didn’t get up and go anywhere, I can tell you.”
As they strolled around the cemetery, not finding anything evil to slay, Buffy shivered slightly in the night air and he quickly pulled off his duster to wrap it around her shoulders.
“Here you go, pet. Not like I need it to stay warm. Got you for that, don’t I?”
She gave him a grateful smile and slipped her arms into the sleeves and her hands into the pockets. In addition to Spike’s cigarettes, her fingers encountered what felt like a dried twig. She pulled it out to squint at it in the dim light, wondering why Spike was carrying a piece of plant around with him. There was something very familiar about the small piece of dried up leaves and flowers and she frowned, asking him, “What are you doing with this in your pocket?”
“Oh, that.? I dunno. Found it there when I put my coat back on after Anne took me in and started taking care of me. Thought it might mean something to me if I could remember and it gives me something to play with when I have my hands in my pockets, so I just left it there. Why?”
“Doesn’t it look familiar to you?”
He shrugged and shifted into vamp face, the better to see it in the poor light.
“Looks a bit like some of those weeds the wiccas used to use when they were….” His voice trailed off as he began to recognize the sprig for what it was.
While Spike indulged in some truly creative swearing, most of which Buffy didn’t even understand, she took the sprig of herb back from him and murmured almost to herself, “Lethe’s Bramble. It’s used in forgetting spells.”
When he stopped swearing and began to stride off down the street, she hastened to catch up.
“Don’t follow me, pet. This isn’t going to be pretty,” he growled, as he headed for the homeless shelter and his ex girlfriend.
“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, I don’t plan to follow you. I’m going to get there first so I can kill that vampire stealing bitch!”
Buffy took off at a dead run, the vampire hot on her heels as they flew past startled pedestrians so fast the people weren’t sure they’d actually seen anybody. Buffy’s slayer was fully in charge as she headed for the large building with blood in her eye. It briefly occurred to Spike that the slayer who wouldn’t kill humans was Anne’s best shot at surviving the night, as he was pretty sure Buffy, the angry girlfriend, had every intention of strangling her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Have an unexpected day off today, so I may try to finish putting this one up.