His lips were cool and firm upon hers, the hands on her back caressing softly. She melted into his embrace, letting his strength surround her, keeping the ugly images of before at bay. She ran her fingers through his hair, marveling at the softness of the bleached locks. She felt his tongue against her lips, begging for entry into her warm mouth. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers. A rumbling growl came from deep in his chest as he griped her hips, placing her astride him. She moaned softly as her body came into full contact with his.
AS tongues dueled for dominance, Spike ran his hands under the back of Buffy’s shirt, cooling her heated flesh as he enflamed it more. Buffy pressed herself closer, tangling her fingers in his hair, refusing to let him go. Spike’s lips moved from hers to make a searing path down the curve of her neck. He ran his cool tongue over her jugular causing Buffy to moan low in her throat. Buffy didn’t flinch as the vampire nipped lightly on her skin. Spike sucked lightly on her neck mimicking the action he craved, the strong Slayer’s blood just under the thin barrier calling to him
Spike’s lips moved down her neck until the buttons of her shirt stopped him. Without removing his lips from her skin, Spike slipped the buttons from their holes, following the path he opened. Buffy arched against him, her body singing as the heat flowed through her veins.
The sharp piercing whistle of a train broke the silence of the night air. Buffy jumped in shock. Spike looked at the Slayer with a mixture of need and questioning, his hands stilling their movements on her buttons. Buffy looked into his eyes, almost black in arousal. Her eyes widened in shock. She pulled herself from his grip in a burst of Slayer speed and moved away from him. Spike groaned silently at the loss of her heat, staring intently at her.
“We need to get home, it’s late.” Buffy said as she backed away from the vampire still sitting in shock in the aisle ahead of her. Buffy pulled her gaze from his and fled the train. Spike sighed and pulled himself to his feet. He looked up in pain as the movement caused his pains to tighten painfully. It was then Spike noticed a doll laying in the overhead. It was an old fashioned doll, similar to Miss Edith, her eyes covered by a thin red ribbon. Reluctantly Spike picked up the doll and walked towards the exit. He stared at the doll for a long moment before removing the ribbon and placing both objects in the garbage by the door.
‘No use telling the Slayer Dru’s in town.’ Spike sighed to himself, running his hands through his hair.
Spike walked down the stairs of the train and made his way to the front of the station where he left his bag. He was shocked to see Buffy standing beside it, waiting for him. She refused to meet his gaze as Spike came to stand in front of her.
“Let’s go.” Buffy mumbled as she turned her back on him. Spike picked up his bag and followed in silence.
Buffy was never more relieved at Spike’s inability to speak then now. She could feel Spike glance at her as they made their way down the darkened streets towards her home. The walk was long, the thin breeze from the cemetery had escalated into a full blow, the air hinting at rain. Buffy wrapped her arms around her shaking body, cursing the fact that she did not grab a jacket before leaving the house.
So lost in thought, Buffy didn’t even notice until the firm weight of Spike’s duster fell over her shoulders, blocking her thin body from the chilling wind. She looked up in surprise at the vampire beside her. Spike had a small smile on his face, he mouthed the word ‘better?’.
Buffy pushed her hands through the arms and sniggled the jacket closer to her body. She sent a small smile Spike’s way before continuing down the deserted street. The cool leather smelt like him. The thick sent of cigarettes, alcohol and him. Normally the smell would send her gagging but some how the combination only sent her heart rate racing and her breathing to become faster.
Spike watched in silence as Buffy burrowed her way deeper into his jacket, the cold wind doing nothing to cool him. She looked so small, belying the strength hidden beneath her thin exterior. The pale moon glinted off her hair, causing it to glow.
She glanced at her companion, the lack of duster doing nothing to diminish him. The black T-shirt he wore was molded to the hard lines of his muscles. The skin tight material of his black jeans left nothing to the imagination. Buffy’s eyes widened at the implications of the strained fabric. She let out a small eep, her eyes darting to the path in front of her.
Spike looked at her, concerned words stuck on his tongue. HE cursed his inability to speak and settled for reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. Buffy jumped in surprise at his touch, stopping in her tracks to stare at him. She felt a flush move up her cheeks as she looked in his eyes. Spike felt her heartbeat quicken, his eyes transfixed by her tongue moving out to lick her lips. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her lips, as he stared intently into her eyes. Buffy took in a ragged breath as he moved closer to her, wrapping his other arm around her waist to pull her to him. She couldn’t resist, unable to pull her gaze from his.
Spike stared at her for a moment more before lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her softly, lips barely brushing hers. Buffy moved closer, resting her slight weight against him, seeking more contact. Spike increased the pressure of his lips, sliding his hand on her cheek into her flowing tresses. His other hand dropped the bag to the ground before sliding into the duster and under her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her back. Buffy moaned as the movement pulled her closer to him, the cool of his body penetrating the thin material of her shirt. It was her tongue that sought entrance into his mouth, begging Spike to deepen the kiss. With a silent chuckle, Spike’s tongue touched hers before delving into the soft cavern of her mouth, rubbing against hers sensuously.
Buffy sagged against him completely, letting Spike keep her from falling to the ground. He kept the movements of his mouth slow, much to her frustration. She slid her hands up his arms to tangle themselves in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer.
The outside world ceased to exist to them, nothing existing beyond the others touch and taste. Thoughts of right and wrong flew out of her mind under his expert kisses. A deep rumbling purr came from deep in Spike’s chest as Buffy’s hands moved from his hair to bury themselves under the back of his shirt, sharp nails scratching lightly over the hard muscles. Spike trailed his lips from hers down the column of her neck, sucking lightly at the salty skin. Buffy gasped for much needed air as he took her earlobe between his teeth, nipping lightly. His hands moved down over her body, pulling her hips hard against him. Their lips met again hungrily, trying to devour the other.
The crash of thunder pulled them from their embrace just as the heaven opened up, pouring freezing rain on the pair. Buffy squealed in shock as the cold water ran down her back. Spike’s lips curved into a smile as he watched Buffy pull the duster’s collar tighter around her neck. He picked up the bag before grabbing her hand and dashing down the street, trying in vain to outrun the raindrops. Buffy laughed in delight as they splashed through the puddles, her Slayer speed a full match for his fast pace.
They reached the house in no time, stopping on the covered porch to shake themselves dry. Buffy’s laughter died as she watched Spike pull his shirt from his body to wring it out. The movement bared his stomach, the strong lines of his abs rippling. She swallowed around the lump in her throat before gripping the door knob.
His hand on hers stopped her from turning the handle. She looked up at the questioning smile on his lips. Buffy turned her face away, running her free hand through her thoroughly drenched hair. Spike released her hand and watched as she fled into the house and up the stairs, his duster fanning out behind her. He heard the slam of the bathroom door, wincing at the sound. He sighed and closed the door, moving to lean against the porch railing. From his bag he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting it with the zippo in his pocket. He dropped the bag to his side, taking a long drag on the cigarette, staring out into the darkness the sound of thunder filling his ears.
Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting to front yard of the Summer’s home. Spike noticed a dark figure with and umbrella across the street, staring intently in his direction. Another flash of lightning revealed Dru’s face, a look of disgust and pain marring her classic features. A bright flash was accompanied by the loud crash of thunder, momentarily blinding Spike for a moment. When his vision cleared he searched the darkness, but she was gone. With a relieved sigh, Spike took one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it into a growing puddle. Picking up his bag, he made his way into the house.