“Bit bundled up for a slap and tickle,” Spike leant casually against the doorframe as he slowly ran his gaze over her, smirking at the layers of clothing that covered her completely from the neck down.
“I’m here to talk,” her eyes darted from him to the crypt behind him in a silent request to come in.
Surprised again, as he had been when he sensed her presence outside his crypt moments before opening the door, by her not just barging in like she always did he stepped to the side and waved for her to enter.
“What little speech have you prepared this time, luv?” he asked sarcastically as he shut the door and went to pick up the glass of blood he’d been preparing to drink before her arrival. “This gonna be more whining about how you think ‘I’m beneath you,’ ‘it’s wrong,’ or ‘we can’t do this anymore?’”
“Why do you love me?”
He nearly spit out the blood he’d taken a gulp of when he paused to give her a chance to start her little diatribe.
“Come again,” he said after a moment as he put down his glass.
“I’ve never been good to you. We always only seem to hurt each other and I still have no idea how I manage to actually hurt you being that you have no soul and your heart is dead, but I know I do hurt you. And that you do love me,” she looked at him with a genuine need to know in her eyes. “Why?”
“Dunno. Just do,” he moved toward her with a slight frown. “What brought this on?”
“I’m not a demon. I didn’t come back wrong,” she looked around for a place to sit then sat down. “I had Tara check the spell and all and she told me. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just different enough after … everything to confuse the chip.”
“I’d imagine that news would have you doing cartwheels,” he stood before her and looked down at her uncertainly. “Why aren’t you?”
“Because it means this is me,” she looked at him then away. “All this that I’ve been doing and feeling since coming back is really me. What I, Buffy Anne Summers, have been doing and feeling.”
“Truth hurts, dunnit?” he said callously.
“Denial hurts more,” she looked up into his eyes with something in her gaze that made him go still. “The whole time I’ve been back, a part of me has been denying everything. That I was really in Heaven, that I’m actually back from it. That any of this is real or matters. I’ve been telling myself that somehow I can just pick up right where I left off when I died and denying that this is where I left off. I was disconnecting from it all before I died. I think that’s what made it so easy to jump. And I’ve been trying to hide all that. Making excuses for everything I’m doing and now I can’t anymore. I didn’t come back wrong. This is me and I can’t deny that anymore. I don’t want to. It hurts too much.”
“What’s that mean then?” he fished a cigarette out of his pocket and looked around for his lighter just for something to do with his hands.
“I’m still not completely sure,” she rose and stopped him from lighting the fag when he found his lighter. “That’s why I need a real answer from you. Why do you love me?”
“Because I can't do anything else anymore,” he looked into her eyes hoping that would be answer enough.
“The chip doesn’t work. You can kill me. You can go back to hating me and being evil and kill me.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Why don’t you? It’s still in you. I know it is. Sometimes when we’re together I feel your hate for me. Sometimes when we fight I know how close you come to not pulling back on a punch that would kill me. There’s nothing to stop you now so why don’t you?”
“I stop me,” he whispered and raised his hands to stroke her face. “I lived one hundred and forty-eight days in this world with you dead and gone from it. Knowing I’d failed you. Remembering the way you looked lying there so still and lifeless when you’ve always been the most vibrant and beautiful bloody creature I’ve ever seen. I’ll never go through that again. I’ll walk nude into a sunrise before ever trying to really harm you or ever letting you die again. I don’t hate you, luv. I hate myself for loving you. I hate the bleeding chip in my head that’s made me such a bloody wanker. I hate that you’re ashamed of what we have even though I don’t exactly wanna go bragging to my brethren that I love the bloody Slayer, but I haven’t hated you for a long time now. I’m angry as hell at you when we fight, but I’ll always pull those punches. Loving you started as a bleeding nightmare for me. Literally. Had this really good dream where you were kissing me like there was no tomorrow and nothing on earth you wanted more than me then it turned into a bloody nightmare when the wanker playing me in the dream said he loved you. And I woke up to find the nightmare was just beginning because it was true. I’ve fought it, I’ve denied it, I’ve hated it, but from that moment I’ve never once stopped feeling it. I love you, Buffy, but I can’t tell you why. Part me had no bloody idea and the rest doesn’t even know where to bloody begin or how to find the right damned words.”
“I was listening to a song before coming here,” she surprised him by changing the subject. “Well, I wasn’t really listening to it. Willow was and I just kind of heard it from her room, but I knew the song. I think … Tonight’s the first time I ever actually listened to it and I really heard the lyrics and they ...,” she looked away from him to dug a CD from her coat pocket, “have you still got that stereo downstairs?”
Wondering how the hell they went from him pouring his bloody heart out about how he loved her to her asking about a bloody radio he just nodded slowly to let her know that he still had it.
“Let’s go there then,” she moved to the hole he’d left uncovered between the crypt’s two levels and quickly disappeared below without even checking to see if he followed.
After nervously lighting his cigarette and taking a few puffs before tossing the fag aside with a sigh of disgust he leapt down through the opening to land with a slight grunt on the hard ground of the posh lower level of his crypt.
He saw her standing at the small battery operated boom box on a sarcophagus near the bed, fiddling with the controls with a slight frown on her face. Just as he was about to offer some assistance she smiled a bit and turned up the volume as she apparently found the track on the disc she’d been looking for.
“I want you to listen to this,” she turned to order before removing her coat and lying it next to the stereo. “Listen closely,” she looked him in the eyes and said when she sensed he was going to make some snarky comment about the song, “to the lyrics.”
//I cannot help it, I couldn’t stop it if I tried//
//The same old heartbeat fills the emptiness I have inside//
//And I’ve heard that you can’t fight love, so I won’t complain//
//’Cause why would I stop the fire that keeps me going on?//
//’Cause when there’s you, I feel whole//
//And there’s no better feeling in the world//
//But without you I’m alone//
//And I’d rather be in love with you//
“You tryin’ to tell me something, pet?” he moved toward her cautiously and asked cockily to try covering the hope he felt blossoming inside him as he heard what the song was saying.
“Yes,” she placed her still gloved hands on his chest then slid them under his arms and around his back until she was hugging him.
//Turn out the lights now//
//To see is to believe//
//I just want you near me//
//I just want you here with me//
“That really what you want?” he hesitantly placed one hand on the nape of her neck and the other on her back.
“Yes.”
//And I’d give up everything only for you//
//It’s the least that I could do//
//’Cause when there’s you, I feel whole//
//And there’s no better feeling in the world//
//But without you I’m alone//
//And I’d rather be in love with you//
//And I feel you holding me//
They both tightened their holds on each other with the last line and Buffy pressed a kiss against his bare chest.
//Why are we afraid to be in love?//
//To be loved//
//I can’t explain it//
//I know it’d tough to be loved//
“I’m not afraid anymore,” she pressed another kiss against his skin, not daring to look up as she said the words.
“You sure about that,” he had to know and tipped her head back to look into her eyes for the answer.
“Yes.”
“You sure about this,” his eyes shifted from hers to her lips then to their bodies pressed so closely together then back to meet her gaze.
“Yes,” she moved one of her hands from behind him and used her teeth to get the glove off then placed her warm palm against his cheek. “Show me that you love me.”
For a moment he froze at the request, not really knowing what to do with it.
She was asking to be made love to, like he’d often thought she would. She finally wanted the soft music, candlelight and flowers in the background as he kissed and caressed her slowly and lovingly in a physical demonstration of the things he, as a soulless vampire, shouldn’t be feeling. He’d imagined doing just that often enough, but now that the opportunity was presenting itself he wondered if he could pull it off.
“Spike,” she whispered as his hesitation caused her to stiffen with doubts and remove her hand from his face.
He looked into her suddenly nervous eyes and grabbed the hand to press it to his lips, knowing in that moment that he could do anything she ever asked of him.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” she sighed at the feel of his lips on her skin then slid her hand free of his to move into his hair and bring their lips together.
“Thought I was supposed to be showing you, luv,” he whispered against her lips as he grew hard smelling her arousal and feeling her so close.
“You don’t expect me to just lay back and let you do all the work, do you?” she smiled up at him and he smiled back as he raised his hands to pull the scrunchie from her hair and begin playing with the short strands.
“Perish that thought,” he tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her closed, smiling lips softly.
She gave a little sigh and parted those lips, inviting him inside her hot mouth and it was an invitation he couldn’t resist. He took his time parting his own lips to allow his tongue to venture forward and touch hers, waiting for her to press herself closer and whimper a bit before he deepened the kiss that much. Her hand at his back dug into the firm muscle there as their tongues met almost shyly in her mouth and he could feel in her the hunger for more – right now - that they always felt after going more than an hour or two without each other, but this time he wasn’t giving in to that hunger.
They both needed this to be more than sex this time.
When they broke apart so she could breathe he looked down to find her lips wet from their kiss and trembling with emotion at every breath she took and he couldn’t resist diving back in for quick, hard kiss to stop that little quiver. There was a gleam in her eyes as he pulled away again and he could feel her hardened nipples against his chest, again it was almost enough to make him forget the ‘making love’ idea until later.
Maybe after the fourth or fifth time when they’d taken a bit of the edge off their hunger with some wildly uncontrolled screwing, he thought with his own eyes becoming more lust filled.
Suddenly the new song playing reached his ears and he looked away from Buffy to frown at the stereo where the female singer was now going on about saying goodbye to her lover or someone or something.
“That’s not exactly a seductive tune,” he turned back to her with an arched eyebrow and crooked smile. “Trying to tell me something else?”
“No,” Buffy denied quickly with her eyes wide at the very thought. “No saying goodbye,” she assured as she heard the lyrics herself, “not by me.”
“I think that’s enough of,” he moved to the radio and picked up the CD case next to it, “Michelle Branch then,” he read the artist’s name before stopping the music.
“Yeah. Definitely,” she gave him a little smile then looked down at her hands which were suddenly fidgeting in front of her. “I really only wanted you to hear the one song ‘cause … you know,” she noticed she still had a glove on and occupied herself with slowly removing it.
“Yeah,” he returned to stand in front of her and run his hands over the black turtleneck she wore, “I know. Couldn’t work up the courage to actually say you loved me so you picked a little ditty to do it for you.”
“I worked up the courage,” she argued breathlessly as he began gently tugging the shirt from the jeans she’d tucked it into.
“I’ve not heard the words,” he paused with his hands on her stomach under the top he’d just worked free of her pants.
“Wasn’t the song enough?”
“Coward,” he couldn’t help but smile at her as he let the matter slide in favor of removing her shirt.
“Am not,” she argued with a pout of her lush lower lip after the turtleneck was pulled over her head and dropped to the floor.
Without getting into the childish little spat she now seemed to be wanting he quietly turned her around the stood staring at the dips and curves of her back, the deceptive daintiness of her lightly toned muscles and finally settling his gaze on the bite mark on her left shoulder.
“Do you regret it?” he whispered into her ear before placing his lips against the puncture wounds and sliding his hands around her waist.
“I tried to,” she tipped her head to the right and pressed herself back against him, “I couldn’t.”
“Did you really want to?” he skimmed his hands up over her stomach and ribs to cup her firm little tits and roll her nipples between his thumb and forefingers.
“No,” she moaned and began grinding her ass against his cock until he had to lower his hands to her hips to still the movements or give up all hope of keeping this under control.
“Patience, luv,” he sank his blunt teeth lightly into her earlobe and flicked his tongue over the small stud earring she wore.
Her arms lifted to wrap around his neck, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward as her fingers sank into his hair to hold his head against her when he moved his lips down the side of her throat.
“If I wanted to bite you here,” his blunt teeth nipped at her jugular, “would you let me?”
He was testing his limits and when she stilled at his question he bit back a sigh as he assumed he’d managed to cross a line like he always did.
But she surprised him by removing her arms from around his neck to turn and look him in the eye as she said quietly, “Yes,” before tipping her head to the side to give him access to her life’s blood.
When he bent his head to nuzzle his lips against her throat she didn’t tense with any kind of fear at being bitten, even though he was still in human façade, and she moaned then arched toward him to encourage him to take what he wanted.
“This,” he nipped the skin under his lips then straightened to look into her eyes, “is why I love you.” He ran his hands over her hair then allowed his fingers to stroked slowly over her exquisite features. “No half measures,” his fingers skated down the column of her neck. “Whether you’re kicking my ass or shagging my brains out, you do it with all you’ve got.”
“Only with you,” she began moving backward toward the bed pulling him along with her grip on the edges of his opened shirt. “You’re the only one who sees me,” the backs of her legs hit the edge of the mattress and she sank down on it while pushing the material from his torso. “All of me,” she gripped his shoulders and laid back on the bed, bringing him down on top of her, “and doesn’t look away. Run away,” her arms wrapped around his waist with her hands clutching at the cool firm skin at his back almost desperately. “Promise me,” he looked and found a hint of tears in her stormy green eyes, “you’ll never run away.”
“The only way,” he held her head still so she could not look away from his intense blue gaze even if she wanted to, “I will ever leave you is death and I haven’t lived this bloody long to die anytime soon. I love you, Buffy,” his lips touched hers briefly, “and I swear I will never run away from you.”
“You even try to break that promise,” she said with a grave expression as she rolled him onto his back and straddled him, “and I’ll turn you into Mr. Big Pile O’ Dust before you even have time to blink.”
“That’s my Slayer,” he cupped her denim covered ass in his hands with a satisfied grin them moved his palms up her spine to bring her face down to his.
“Yes,” she looked into his eyes before their lips met, “this is your Slayer. Never forget that just because I love you I still can’t or won’t kick your tight, edible little ass.”
“Edible?” the word was muffled by her lips.
“Yes and I should know. I’ve bitten it,” she pulled back and they exchanged smiles. “Are we done talking yet?”
“Almost,” he flipped her onto her back and began kissing his way down her body, “just say it again.”
“I love you, Spike,” she arched as his fingers unbuttoned the button at the waist of her jeans then grasped the zipper tab.
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