PULSE 9
By Mercy
NC-17
A/N Thanks to Kar, Meli and slackerace for editing and being my sounding boards. Thanks for the time and effort I know it takes to do beta-ing. Thanks!
Ataxia
(a lack of muscular coordination, lack of precision)
Buffy sat frozen in her car with the door open, unable to move as she heard Spike call out her name once again. It resonated through out her being, shattering her from deep within. Shame flooded into her consciousness, and she became disgusted with herself for what she’d just done to another human being. Her plan to make him feel her hurt backfired in her own face. Her stomach revolted at what she had just done, the bile rising up to her throat and threatening to erupt. She began to shiver and shake with indignity at her treatment of Spike. What in hell’s name had she been thinking when she’d left him tied to the bed and called 911?
Buffy had sunk into darkened depths of herself -- a part that she’d never seen before -- an ominous and desperate side that scared her. Something sinister and malevolent had been born in the last few moments of the ‘game.’ Spike’s ability to dominate her had caused something inside of her to become unleashed and it wanted to humiliate him. She could be assured that he’d never forget what she’d done to him. Looking at the house and the window that was still open; she closed her eyes and quickly turned in her seat and leaned her head out of the car door as the bile made its way from her stomach onto the road.
Wiping her mouth and swallowing back the last of the bile, she could hear the sirens in the distance. Quickly grabbing the cold metal shell of the car door, she heaved herself onto the curb of the street. Buffy struggled to take each step, one foot in front of the other. It felt like an eternity as she made her way back towards the house. With an unsteady grip, she found the door still unlocked, and was able to open it after a few pitiful attempts. The shrill of the sirens grew louder as they came closer, the noise blaring into Buffy’s ears; and, her eyes caught the glow of the blue and red flashing lights.
Quickening her pace, she closed the door behind her and headed towards the kitchen. Opening up one of the drawers, she removed a small, sharp chef’s knife and proceeded to bolt up the staircase towards the room in which she had left Spike. Feeling even more sickened with herself, she opened the door to find him struggling desperately with the bonds with which she tied him to the bed. Hearing the door open, Spike turned his head towards the intruder and stopped dead in his attempt to free himself. The look in his eyes said it all; they were filled with anger, disgust and disbelief.
Breaking eye contact with him, Buffy moved towards the end of the bed, slicing the silk that bound Spike’s feet. In rapid succession, she cut the rest of the silk strips away from the headboard, freeing him from the cast iron rods that made up the bed frame. Putting the knife down on the bedside table, she turned away from the travesty that she had created and walked towards the window. Behind her, Spike rubbed his wrists and ankles with his hands, trying to encourage blood flow into the now painful joints. He couldn’t look at her, not without wanting to grab her and shake her senseless for what she’d done to him. Rage gripped him and made him want to punish her here and now.
Spike opened his mouth to say something to her, but words just couldn’t come. He was just too disappointed at her for doing this to him. Hurt flared in between the feelings of anger and loathing gripping at his very soul. However, it would have to wait; he could hear the loud banging at the front door, and then “open up, police.” Grabbing a pair of jeans that lay on the floor, he sat on the side of the bed as he hitched them up. Standing up, he zipped himself up and began to walk out of the room without a backwards glance. Before he took a step outside of the room, he hesitated and stopped for just a brief moment.
“Don’t even think of leaving. You go and I swear to God I’ll hunt you down,” Spike whispered with a quiet desperation and authority that Buffy wouldn’t dare challenge.
She heard the loud thumps of his bare feet against the wood of the staircase as he descended the steps. She could hear the swinging of the hinges as he opened the front door and the faint murmurs of a conversation between two men. After a few moments, the sound of multiple footsteps could be heard as they ascended the stairs, and the door to the room in which she stood opened fully; however, Buffy’s back was to the door. A stifled laughter filled the room from someone behind her, which finally made her turn around. A male and female officer stood behind Spike, looking curiously at the cut strips of silk that lay on and around the bed. The male officer had a sniggering look on his face and a leering gaze that perused up and down Buffy’s body. In contrast, the female officer was turning bright red in the face, and quickly diverted her gaze from the bed and onto the hunched woman standing by the window.
“Are you alright Miss?” she asked as she elbowed the male officer. As Buffy could only nod, the officer continued her questions. The question was rephrased. “Are you hurt?” followed by another shake of Buffy’s head.
“His not hurting you is he?” The male police officer continued to probe Buffy for a reaction.
In response, Buffy’s gaze flickered and faltered as she spoke with a quiet and just audible voice. She replied with a simple “no”. For just a few seconds, her eyes locked with Spike’s. With that, she swiftly broke all contact with him and turned back to staring out the window, despite the fact that she saw nothing of the view outside. Not even the brightly flashing red and blue lights of the police car caught her eyes. Behind her, she could feel a hand touch her arm; looking down at it, she saw the small hand of the female officer grasp her upper arm.
In a quiet whisper that only she could have heard, she asked her questions again. “He’s not forcing you to do this, is he? Is that why you called us?”
“No he’s not forcing me to do anything and he hasn’t hurt me,” she spat out as she violently pulled away. “I hurt him.” Buffy quickly made her way over to Spike and pulled up his wrist to show the wounds. “See, I hurt him. I forced him to do this…Me…not him.” Finally she couldn’t hold it in anymore she stumbled towards the bed, sitting on the edge with her arms wrapped around herself as she rocked; the tears beginning to silently pour down her face.
Shocked and stunned by Buffy’s admission, the female officer backed herself towards her co-worker. She pulled him out of the room and towards the staircase, indicating to Spike that he should come with them. Looking back at Buffy, Spike shook his head as he walked out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He motioned for the police officers to follow him down the staircase to the landing below, where he stopped.
“I’m sorry to waste your time but this is a false alarm.” Spike spoke in a soft tone of voice, not wanting Buffy to hear what he was saying. “Things got out of hand and I panicked.” He rubbed his head, his eyes cast to the ground. “We were…um…”
“We don’t like our time wasted, mister…” the female officer paused as she pulled a small notebook out of her coat pocket and flipped through it until she found the right page. “…Mr. Devine. You can’t call us every time you and your missus decide to play kinky games.”
“Officer, like I said, I’m sorry that I called and wasted your time.” Spike’s facial muscles tightened as he tried to contain his emotions. “I thought my girl had left me high and dry, so I panicked. But she was here all along. I got the wrong end of the stick and I fucked –sorry officer –I screwed up.”
“We could arrest you for filing a false report you know.” The female officer continued, “Not only that but…”
“But we won’t, Mr. Devine.” The male officer looked over at his partner and raised his hand for her to stop talking. “This time we won’t. You call us again and I’ll personally book you and put you into the holding cell.” He looked up the staircase and then back at Spike. “Both of you.”
“Like I said, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” Spike tried to smile at the police officers. “I appreciate it.”
“Okay. Let’s go back to the station and let this gentleman get on with whatever he was doing.”
The female officer looked a little angry at her partner, but nodded her head in agreement and made her way to the front door. Opening it, she let herself out and took the stairs down to the pathway and back to the patrol car. Spike waited for her to get far enough out of hearing range before he finally spoke. Turning towards the male officer, he let out a large sigh.
“Thanks mate,” Spike spoke with a whisper. “I owe you one.”
“No you owe me a lot Spike,” the officer shook his head. “Well maybe a little, but I’d say we’re even now. You get your ‘out of jail free’ card Spike, but just this once.”
“Yeah,” Spike nodded. “How’s your wife?”
“Fine, getting out of the house more than usual,” he bent closer towards Spike. “We both couldn’t thank all of you guys on the ward enough. You are lucky it was me here today Spike, and not someone else. Can I suggest that you have a talk with your girlfriend about not taking your little games so far next time? Because it might not be me banging on your door.”
“Yeah I think we have a lot to talk about mate.” Spike averted his gaze. “A lot.”
“You sure that everything’s alright?”
“Yes,” Spike’s tone became insistent. “You’d better go before your partner gets the wrong idea about us and thinks that you might want to join in with our fun.” He tried to find some humour in the situation.
“Humphh.” The male officer turned himself around and walked out the door, saluting Spike before shutting the door behind him. The front door shut with a resonating bang throughout the now quiet house.
Spike stood alone in the foyer of his house, feeling like he’d just escaped a fate worse than death. Police were notorious for telling ‘tales’ to E.R. staff about finding people in compromising positions. He couldn’t even grasp at the repercussions that it might have had on his work if word had ever gotten out. Spike could only hope that he would never run into the female officer at work or in the E.R. Luckily enough, he’d looked after the wife of the attending male officer a few weeks prior. He’d been a decent and grateful bloke, and Spike could be assured of the man keeping his silence. It still didn’t lessen the anger and hurt that continued to rage beneath the surface of his skin.
Spike took a moment to bury his pride and swirling anger into the innermost depths of himself before going back upstairs to confront Buffy. He let himself become numb as he took the first step towards the stairs and up to the master bedroom.
~~**~~
He found her where he’d left her, sitting on the edge of the bed staring into the abyss of nothing. He walked into the room and grabbed a t-shirt that sat on a dresser near the door, pulling it down over his body as quickly as he could. He took a few steps closer towards her. He hadn’t missed the slight shaking of her frame, the translucent paleness of her skin, or the aloof manner she’d steeled herself with from the outside world. Buffy had well and truly deeply humiliated and offended him; he just couldn’t get his head around what the fuck she was thinking about tonight.
If the objective in her games had been to degrade and piss him off, then she’d done a right royal job of it. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say for herself, he wasn’t going to let her get away with what she’d done to him tonight. No matter what the reason. She had a lot to answer for and he wanted to understand her bloody logic.
He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
“So Buffy, do we talk here or downstairs?” Spike asked her. “Or would you like a turn at being tied up and humiliated?”
Buffy flinched at his words as they penetrated through the haze that she’d surrounded her consciousness with. His words scored her being; a cold chill passed through her body as she tried to concentrate on the here and now. She found that she just couldn’t bring herself to focus on him. Dragging her feet in a circular movement, she faced him.
“No,” her voice a whisper passing through him.
“Why not? You’ve done a fantastic job so far.”
“I’m sorry….” she murmured.
“What did you say?” Spike spat out, “you’re sorry?”
“Yes,” Buffy turned her head slightly but stared at his feet unable to look at him. “I said I’m sorry.”
“Not good enough, Buffy.”
“I know.” Tears threatened to fall down as her eyes welled with moisture and her voiced filled with sickening shame. “I know it’s not good enough.”
“You think that sorry is going to cover the…the bloody damage you’ve done?” Spike walked closer towards her, honing in on his target.
“I didn’t…” Buffy’s words refused to come out of her mouth as she became more confused and disorientated. In her whirling thoughts, she tried to comprehend the terrible act where she’d demeaned him so much. She just couldn’t find the words to make anything better because there weren’t any that would make what she had done go away.
“Didn’t mean to do it? Didn’t mean to humiliate and defile me Buffy?” His eyes closed as he let the last few moments of having to talk to the officers flow through him. His gut tightened as the need to lash out at her gripped him; the instinct to retaliate strengthened and exuded deep within him. “You know what, love, you should give lessons.”
“No!” Buffy finally looked at Spike and couldn’t miss the conflict going on inside him stream across his face. His cheek muscles pulled tightly against the prominent bone, the skin hollowing out just below it as he tried to control his breathing. Resentment seeped out from every pore and she felt the atmosphere around them become blunted and rigid. Her voice became cracked and louder as she denied the truth. “No.”
Spike abruptly moved forward and grabbed her around the shoulders, looking for some kind of answer within her vacant gaze. “How Buffy? Just tell me how you could do this to me? What the fuck did I do to deserve this shit from you?”
“I was angry,” Buffy yelled at him. “I wanted you to know how I felt! I wanted you to feel everything that I was feeling!!”
“What, humiliated and used? When have I ever done that to you Buffy? When?”
“Used Spike. Used,” Buffy blurted out. “Every time we were together all I felt like was something that you had sex with. Just a convenient body to fuck.”
“How did you come to that bloody conclusion Buffy?” Spike gritted his teeth; he’d been accused of many things in his life but never using a woman as a convenient fuck.
“Every single time we were together, all we ever did was have sex or you were always trying to get into my pants.”
“Being attracted to you is a crime, Buffy?” Spike still felt confused by her words. “Wanting to be as close to you as I can is wrong? Needing to feel you wrapped around me is using you?”
“You don’t get me, do you?!” Buffy closed her eyes for a second; she had to make it clear to him. Try and make him understand what drove her to do what she’d done tonight then maybe he could…what? Forgive her? She grimaced at the thought as it occurred to her that he may never forgive her for her malicious act. “We never went anywhere except the bedroom, or somewhere in the dark to fuck. You always kept me in the shadows, never out in the real world.”
“That still doesn’t explain what you’ve done to me Buffy. Not by a long shot.” Spike tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I need to get into that pretty little head of yours and see what’s fucked it up so bad that you’ve lowered yourself to this level, love.”
“Don’t call me that.” Buffy cringed at his words.
“What? Love? Why not, Buffy? That’s what you are to me. My lover. Or should I say you were my lover.” Spike pursed his lips together in a malevolent smile. “So for not taking you ‘out in public’, and may I remind you those were your words, I deserved what you did to me tonight?”
“I was hurting Spike, and I wanted to hurt you. Make you understand what it felt like to hurt like me. Feel used like me. You have no idea how sorry I am that it went as far as it did. It wasn’t meant to go like that. My plan was to simply come in, fuck you senseless, and walk away.” Buffy began to tremble as she quietly tried to explain. “I called 911 because…”
“Can’t explain that one away. It was cruel and degrading what you did to me,” Spike sputtered. “I could have handled the fuck and flee, but calling the police takes the cake.”
“How many times can I say I’m sorry?”
“Not enough Buffy. Not even a lifetime of apologies could wipe away the damage you’ve done.” Spike let go of her with a slight push. “Not to mention trying to explain the situation to the cops. Can you imagine what would have happened if this got around work? Try explaining our little game to my boss. That would’ve ended with my reputation destroyed and I’d probably get the sack.”
“Oh my God! I didn’t think.…” Buffy tried not to let the tears flow as she considered the consequences of her actions.
“No Buffy, you never seem to really think anything through.” Spike ran his hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip on himself and try to get some resolve on the situation. “Luckily one of the cops is a friend of mine and he’ll keep his mouth shut. I was lucky Buffy, with no thanks to you.”
“But I came back.” Buffy tried to find something to hold onto as she stumbled backwards towards the wall. “I came back.”
“Would have made no difference, except that it meant they didn’t have to untie me from the bed.” Spike sat down on the bed behind him. “I need to get this straight in my head Buffy. You did this to me because you wanted me to feel like a piece of meat? To feel the same way as you? Make me feel like all I was good for was a quick fuck and that was all?”
“Ye…yes,”
“Even though I never did one thing that you didn’t want me to do to you?” Spike stared straight into her eyes. “You knew who and what I was when we started this Buffy. I never promised you pre-fuck entertainment.”
“Do you have to be so crude?”
“Why not? You’ve lowered yourself and treated me like dirt.” Spike’s eyes appeared to turn a deeper shade of blue. “Dirt that you didn’t seem to mind rolling around in and getting yourself dirty with. Made you scream enough times.”
“Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Tears began to roll down Buffy’s face; lines of dew crisscrossing her cheeks. “What do I have to do to make you understand?”
“I understand very well, Buffy. You achieved what you set out to prove.” Spike didn’t let her tears affect him. “I feel used and humiliated. Mission accomplished. You win.”
“But?”
“But what, Buffy? You’re sorry. I hear you loud and clear.” Spike lowered his eyes to the floor. “But I don’t care. You could have tried to tell me how you felt, Buffy. Could have told me a week ago when I turned up at your apartment after the fight we had. Made me understand, but you didn’t want to talk; you said that you just couldn’t. Or was it that you just wouldn’t? Instead, you slammed the door in my face and just shut me out after I begged you not to. So I suppose it’s time I return the favour.”
“I don’t understand.” Buffy wiped her eyes as the tears continued to fall. She should have let him in the night he came to her door. She had slammed it in his face because she just hadn’t been strong enough to face him. Not strong enough to show her vulnerability to him. Instead she initiated this rampage of humiliation and deprivation. A chill went through her spine as she compared the two extremes of her behaviour. She should have let him in, but should-haves wouldn’t clean up this mess that lay in front of her. Buffy doubted that anything ever would. “What do you mean return the favour.”
“It’s simple.” Spike stood up and walked to the door. “Get out of my house.”
With what little dignity she had left, which was close to nothing, Buffy swallowed hard and walked slowly towards the bedroom door. Not being able to look directly at Spike, she walked past the stiff and hardened frame of his body and could feel the icy chill that diffused from him and into the air around him. Buffy took each step as quickly as she could down the stairs and out the front door, swinging the heavy door closed, shutting herself out of the house.
Buffy stopped where she stood on the porch as the gust of wind from the front door closing blew along her back. She leaned against the cold wood panelling, not being able to move any further. It had taken all her internal strength to get this far. Her heart beat so strongly that she could feel it pound in her chest and resonate in her eardrum. Her head felt like it was going to explode as the pain burst along the back of her skull. Every cell in her body exuded with anguish, desolation and tormenting remorse until it could stand no more.
Her body just couldn’t cope with the emotional and mental anguish that she was experiencing. The pain in her skull amplified as the enormity of what she’d done really began to punch its way along her neurons. Her mind dealt with it the only way that it could. It shut itself down. Embracing the empty void that the darkness offered, Buffy denied all reality around her and accepted the release that the void offered. The hard thump of her body hitting the porch’s wooden boards echoed throughout the house.
Spike sat on the bottom of the landing of the stairs, his hands covering his face as he tried to regain some composure. Pressure pounded and bore down behind his closed eyes as his mind screamed in relentless pulsations of disbelief and abhorrence at what had just passed between them. After Buffy had accused him the first time of just ‘using her for a fuck,’ he knew he’d been a total git in the way he’d reacted to her. Obviously he held a stupid notion that she’d known the way he felt about her when they were together. He could have sworn to himself that he felt it when he was inside her. Feeling her come around his cock, in the catch of her voice when she climaxed. Evidently he was wrong.
He seemed to be wrong about a lot of things. He should have listened more closely to her and not taken advantage of their mutual attraction. He couldn’t deny that in the beginning they were just a convenient fuck to each other; the first encounter in the alley most certainly was. Their second time was instigated by him because he was angry with her denying being part of her pleasure their first time. Yet something had changed over the last few weeks and months. Maybe it had been only in his imagination, but he could have sworn that she was beginning to care for him. Deeply care. Maybe…
The noise of something hitting the porch outside broke him from his thoughts. He quickly stood up and walked to the door. Opening it up, he was confronted with Buffy lying on the wooden floor at the edge near the stairs. His immediate thoughts were visions of her falling down the stairs and breaking her skull. Running down beside her, he sat on his haunches as he checked her breathing and pulse. Finding both, he ran his hand down her limbs to find any broken bones. Once satisfied that she did not have any, Spike could only surmise that she’d collapsed from all the strain.
Slowly he gathered her up close to his body and carefully lifted her up from the floor. Walking back into the house, he slammed the front door closed with the back of his foot and walked back up the stairs to the guest room. Laying Buffy down on the bed, he watched as she continued to breathe evenly and deeply, but her face was still strained with all the tainted emotions that ran through her mind. Spike tried to imagine -- despite what she’d done to him -- how she must be feeling now. He had not missed the look of self-loathing and disgust she’d had on her face when she left. He didn’t feel any sympathy for her, he was just too disgusted with her. That didn’t mean that he could just ignore the unconscious woman on the porch. He might be hurt and angry but he was still a man of principle and always willing to help anyone anytime he could.
Even a girl who meant so much to him and had betrayed him so profoundly.
“Don’t think that this ‘faint’ will score you points with me Summers.”
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