Summary: A quick little fic set shortly after "Crush". Spike tries to "rescue" Buffy from a demon but ends up causing her to get an interesting injury.
Categories: Ficlets/Song Fics Characters: None
Genres: Romance, Angst
Warnings: Adult Language
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1033
Read: 1913
Published: 07/19/2005
Updated: 07/19/2005
1. For Now by Panta_Rei
Author's Notes:
This is one of those weird little fics that just popped into my head completely randomly, but I liked it, so I'm hoping you guys will, too =D Please review and tell me what you think!
~*~
“I don’t—need—your help!” Buffy dealt a ferocious kick to the demon she was fighting.
“Right. An’ the sky’s purple with red streaks, right?”
“Occasionally,” she retorted, sparing Spike a grimace before pummeling the demon.
“You’ve been patrolling with Captain Cardboard almost since I got back, and you still got stuck in the gut by a li’l nasty,” he reminded her. “An’ now soldier-boy’s gone. Who’s gonna watch your back?” He broke the neck of the demon he was fighting and turned back to her.
Buffy had frozen at the mention of Riley coming from the disgusting vampire in front of her. For an instant, the entire world stopped for her as she relived the grief that had been Riley’s leaving.
When Spike realized what he’d done, he rushed over to help her—but it was too late. The demon whipped his tail around, catching her in the stomach, drawing blood when long barbs sunk deep into her belly. “Oh god,” she breathed, then collapsed.
“Buffy!” Spike yelled, racing over to her. The demon ran away, unheeded by him, as he pulled the Slayer up. Her head lolled about on her shoulders, but her eyes were open. “Buffy, luv, speak to me. You alright? We can get you to a hospital, yeah? Can you stand? Buffy?” He stared at her desperately; she hadn’t moved, not even a twitch, since he’d pulled her up. Given that he was touching her and she’d made it all too clear what her opinion was on that, he was in near-panic. “Buffy, pet, can’t you move?”
Her eyes widened—just a tad, but enough to tell him what had happened.
“Paralyzed.” His voice was flat. “You’ve been paralyzed.”
A single tear leaked out of her eye.
It pained him. “Look, Buffy, none of that.” He wiped it away before pondering his options.
He could take her back to Red and their poncy Scooby gang…the image of the whelp staking him ran through his head.
No, not gonna do that…
He stared down at the prone Slayer, still lying in his arms. God, how often he’d dreamed about having her there…taking her, hard and fast, then soft and gentle, then a combination of the two…
He was lost in thought for several minutes, staring at the face that lay slack save for her rapidly blinking eyes, before he made a decision.
“Right, then,” he said in a businesslike manner. “C’mon, Slayer.” He scooped her up in his arms and started walking toward his crypt.
~*~
Spike set her down on his bed reverently. Her body was so soft, so very submissive, right now—she could’ve been asleep, except for the wide open, terrified eyes.
“Jesus, pet,” he murmured. “’ve wanted you like this for so long.” He coasted a hand down her hair as his lips curved. “An’ now ‘ve got you.” The demon let out a growl of approval at the little whimper he heard in the back of her throat, unable to escape through her lips.
And yet…
Spike almost growled out loud. How long had he wanted her here, to show her who she belonged to? How many times had he fantasized the love they’d make, him taking her however he wanted, brutally even? How many times had he beat on the hapless mannequin, wishing that he could spar with the Slayer again?
Now she was his to take, his to hurt if he wished, and he found that he couldn’t do it.
Because she didn’t want it.
His demon was disgusted. It shouldn’t matter if she was willing or not. He was a vampire, for fuck’s sake. Taking her when she was prone and unwilling should’ve thrilled him, not filled him with disgust.
What was she doing to him?
He closed his eyes for a minute, clenching his jaw, trying to hide his frustration and confusion. When he opened them she was still staring at him, the fear in her eyes still all too obvious.
The soft smile that came to his lips was entirely unfeigned. He didn’t know why he was smiling—he bloody well shouldn’t have been—but the smile stayed.
His hand gently tugged a strand of her hair before sliding down to cup her cheek. “You get some rest, a’right? We’ll see if this floppy bit doesn’t wear off by morning.”
And then, to both their astonishment, he leaned down, kissed her forehead gently, and left the room.
~*~
Spike woke early the next morning, much to his irritation. He was supposed to sleep during the day, dammit!
His irritation disappeared when he realized what had awoken him: Buffy was standing a few feet away from him, looking adorably rumpled and clutching—he blushed in spite of himself—one of his many sketches that featured her as the subject.
“So…you draw, huh?”
He looked at her sharply. Her voice was soft, almost shy, and her eyes?
His breath caught. He didn’t see the love he felt in her eyes. He didn’t even see all that much liking.
But he did see respect, which was more than he’d ever hoped for.
So he smiled slowly. “Yeah, I draw a bit. Throwback from m’ human days.”
“Think maybe you wanna draw me sometime when I actually know about it?” A coy smile curved her lips.
He tore his gaze from them and again gazed into her eyes reverently.
“Yeah, luv. ‘d like that. A lot.”
Her smile widened and she sat down next to him on the stone casket, letting loose a barrage of questions about his life as a human. Spike listened with an absent smile on his face.
He didn’t know what had inspired this sudden about-face, and the truth was, he didn’t care. For now—today, at least—she saw him as something other than the idiot vampire who had declared his love for her in a magnificently fucked-up fashion.
And for now, that was enough.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.