Sergeant Rayne looked up at him from the paperwork in front of him. “What?”
“I want Finn taken off the case,” Spike repeated, feeling already annoyed that he’d been ignored the first time. He swore it was a power trip for Rayne to make people repeat themselves and wait for him to be ready. If he did the same thing, he’d be ripped a new one and labeled “insubordinate”, and it got harder and harder each time for Spike to keep his mouth shut. Clenching his jaw something fierce, Spike met his stepfather’s ice blue eyes unwaveringly.
“Why?” Rayne asked simply.
“He’s too close to the case, I want him off.”
“Some could say the same for you,” Rayne said matter-of-factly, leaning back in his wooden swivel chair and causing it to creek, his fingers pressed together, almost as if in prayer.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spike blurted out angrily.
“The little display you had last night when Miss Summers came in here. And don’t think Officer Finn didn’t call to tell me that you punched him this morning.”
“He went on a sodding date with her last night in which she got hurt by the sodding murderer! I don’t give a rat’s ass if he goes on a date with the girl--”
“Yes, you do.”
Spike glared at him. “Not the point.”
“Isn’t it? You’re accusing Finn of being too close to the subject, but as far as I can see, you are as well.”
“You’re going to keep him on to spite me, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not keeping him on to spite you.”
“Thank you.”
“But I am keeping him on.”
“Are you daft?” Spike asked incredulously.
Rayne bolted up from his chair. “You better watch your mouth, boy!”
“You’re being an idiot! With the way you do things half-assed, you’re going to run this precinct into the sodding ground, you cocky bastard!”
“Who would do better then?” Rayne demanded; his face red with anger. “You? Your father?”
“You keep my father out of this,” Spike said through clenched teeth. “You got what you wanted, all that you wanted, so you keep my father out of this.”
Rayne softened, his anger seeming to leave him in an instant. “Spike, listen--”
“No, I’ve done enough of that,” Spike bit out and stalked off, slamming the door behind him, causing several heads to pop up from their desks.
His eyes zeroed in on Buffy who was sitting at his desk, waiting like a good girl, and talking to his mother. Could the day get any worse? Rolling his eyes, Spike made his way over and waited for Buffy to realize he was standing there, waiting for her.
She looked over at him, smiling. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he grunted.
“Hello, dear,” his mother said softly. “How are you?”
He looked at his mom; her straw-colored curls were pulled up in a loose bun, some strands cascading down her face. Her green eyes were warm and hopeful and yet guarded, as if she knew instinctively not to expect a warm welcome from him. She was a tiny woman, his mother was, and getting on in years, though you’d never know it by looking at her. She was quite active and spry; she was always on the go, unable to sit still for very long at all. She had a quick mind and was inquisitive about everything. He inherited a lot from his mom; however, his father had been the same way. Rupert Giles was incredibly smart, sometimes too smart for his own good. He’d had a temper, though unlike Spike, he was slow to anger, but once provoked…it was best to run for cover.
Glancing briefly at her, he nodded, “Fine.”
“Your mother was just telling me how you used to play cops and robbers in your backyard with your father,” Buffy told him.
Spike’s mood darkened considerably. “Come on, Buffy, it’s time to go,” he said and hauled her up by her elbow.
“William honey, would you like to stop by for lunch? I came by quickly to see your stepfather, and I’m on my way home—“
“No, thanks, we already ate,” Spike said quickly.
“No, we haven’t,” Buffy corrected.
Spike glared down at her, “Well, we’re going to.”
“Honey, come over, I’ll make your favorite ham and swiss wraps--”
“No, thanks, mother,” Spike said and dragged Buffy to the door.
Once outside, Buffy freed herself from his bruising grasp and turned on him. “What the hell is your problem?”
“What?” Spike said, throwing up his hands. “What did I do wrong now?”
“She was trying, Spike. Extending the olive branch to you.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck if she was extending the whole damn tree!”
“You know what she was saying to me? She was telling me what a good cop you are and how smart you are. She was singing you praises, talking about how proud she is of you and how lucky I am to have you protecting me. I agreed with her.”
“No doubt trying to get you on her side so you can do this!”
“And what is it I’m doing?”
“Turning on me.”
“No, Spike,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “I’m not turning on you. You turn on yourself. You truly are your own worst enemy.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Buffy so don’t you dare fucking start with me!”
“I do know what I’m talking about and that’s why you’re so angry with me right now. I understand that you hold a lot of resentment for her, and that you feel betrayed by her behavior, and I don’t blame you. But she does love you Spike and I think if you just tried to talk with her, maybe you could work it out—”
“God, what is this? How am I the one being ganged up on today?”
“Oh, yes, that’s right. You never do anything wrong to warrant anyone getting upset with you. You have reserved the right to be angry at the world for what’s gone wrong and to never take responsibility for your own actions when you do mess up. I apologize for that mistake and I won’t let it happen again,” Buffy retorted sarcastically.
“How have I messed up today?”
“Did you want that alphabetically or numerically?”
Spike glared at her. “Surprise me.”
“Well, first I ask you what’s wrong this morning when you started being distant with me, and I got my head bitten off for it--”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Excuse me for not feeling the need to talk about my feelings.”
“Then you punched Riley.”
“He had it coming, he got you hurt, you were in danger.”
“And then you deliberately goaded him. You acted like a child.”
“I’m so sorry that I’m not as perfect as you.”
Marching up to him, Buffy got in his face, “I am not perfect. If you think that I am, then it’s you that made up that perception of me. Not only did you provoke Riley into something today, but then you provoked me. You tried deliberately to make me jealous and I am not going to be played like that.”
“You were jealous,” Spike whispered, his eyes blazing.
“Yes, I was, but that’s not the point. You have issues you need to work out then fine, work them out, but don’t work them out on me. I am not going to be your punching bag and I am not going to let you take me down with you while you’re self-destructing.”
“And just how am I self-destructing?”
“By closing yourself off from those that care about you. I’m not saying that you have to go in there and give your mom a big ol’ hug and act as if nothing happened, but I don’t see how you couldn’t at least try to talk with her. She’s not stupid, Spike, she knows you can’t stand to even look at her right now.”
“Then she shouldn’t have married my goddamn uncle and cheated on my father!”
“No, she shouldn’t have, but it’s done now. There’s no going back, the only thing you can do is move forward.”
“Stop trying to tell me how to live my life!”
“Stop pushing me away! I care about you and I can see how unhappy you are, and I just want to help,” Buffy said, nearly pleading with him.
He walked away from her then, needing the space from the intensity of their discussion to clear his head. His head was hurting and he felt tears sting his eyes. He refused to give into them even if he knew it would do him good.
Climbing in the car without a word, he watched her stare off at him, sigh, and then head toward the car to join him.
Spike watched from the window as Buffy and Finn chatted on the sidewalk in front of her house. His fists clenched when she touched his face tentatively and Finn leaned into her touch, bestowing her with a goofy and sappy grin. And all this despite the brush off he’d received from her that morning.
What an idiot.
He felt something burning inside him as he watched them. It wasn’t just jealousy he was feeling at watching them, it was something else.
Desire.
He was looking for an outlet to the emotions swirling around inside him, most of which she’d provoked in him. Yeah, he’d wanted her good and jealous this morning. Wanted her to feel the sting he felt when she went out with Finn. He wanted to experience her jealousy, feel her possession of him wash over him and cover him like a blanket—he wanted to know he was worth getting jealous over.
She’d admitted it too, but it’d taken all damn day, stubborn bint. Buffy Summers, he realized, was not one for games, and well, could he blame her? He hated them too, and yet he’d played them with her. She hadn’t pulled an Anya, hadn’t yelled at him or demanded something from him. No, she’d let him know that she wasn’t going to play his game and if wanted something from her, he was going to have to ask for it. Nicely. And wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along – a woman that didn’t play games and demand things from him? So, what had he done? He’d played the game instead. Irony at its best.
Watching her come back to the house, Spike watched her intently. He was going to make sure he made it loud and clear what he wanted when she came inside so that there were no misunderstandings at all.
Coming inside, she looked at him standing in the foyer, arms crossed and eyes glittering. Her look of apprehension excited him and his lips curled into a slight, feral grin.
“Hi,” she said slowly, “What are you doing?”
He lunged at her, causing her back to hit the closed door with the force of his pounce. With hands on either side of her head, and his pelvis pressing into her, she was trapped.
“Wh--” she started, but never finished as his lips came crashing down upon hers. His hands left the wood of the door and found the hem of her shirt, pushing up until her bra-covered breasts were in his hands. She moaned into the kiss and he kissed her harder. He wanted her to know that she was his, his and no one else’s. It went beyond the simple jealousy he felt at Finn; this was deeper, more primal and savage. There was a name for it, too, and he wasn’t yet ready to put voice to it.
Soon, though. He felt it was going to take him over soon and even as he touched her, he felt it coming closer, bubbling up inside him. That should have been enough of an impetus to stop, to gain some distance, yet he couldn’t. He was powerless against her.
Her arms were around him, pulling him closer to her, clawing at him and begging him for more. She didn’t have to beg; he was going to give it to her all right. He was going to give her everything she asked for and more.
Shoving a hand down her pants, she gasped when his finger found her wet folds and stroked steadily in and out of her, circling round her clit and then again in and out of her. She was clutching at him, using him to hold her up.
Well then, what would she do if…
And he dropped to his knees, yanking her pants down and taking her panties with them. He dove in unceremoniously, licking her sweet nectar from her soft nether lips.
“Oooh…” she moaned and dug her fingers in his hair.
He licked, sucked and nibbled, probing deep inside with his tongue before sliding a finger inside her and playing a steady beat with his tongue on her clit. She came, screaming his name and showering him with her juices that he lapped up hungrily. Standing, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the living room, laying her on the couch. She looked up at him, waiting anxiously to see what he was going to do next.
Grinning unrepentantly, he yanked off her shoes and socks, and pulled her panties and pants off completely, dropping them on the floor carelessly. Lying on top of her, he pushed her top up and off and pushed her bra up, suckling at her milky white breasts.
“Oooh…Spike,” she murmured gyrating her hips against him as he devoured her.
Rearing back, he looked down at her, spread out for him. Impatient fingers worked her bra off with her help, and then he whipped his shirt off. He went for the buttons on his pants, when her hands covered his and she undid them for him.
He was trembling now. The need to be inside her was great and he was shaking with it. When she unzipped him and pushed his pants over his hips and took him in her hot mouth, Spike’s eyes screwed shut and he knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with her sucking him in abandon as if he were a treat she just couldn’t get enough of.
He pushed her back, a little more forcefully than he wanted, and she looked up at him, hurt.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, luv,” he quickly assured her, discarding his jeans and socks. “I don’t want to shoot off in your mouth; I want to be inside you.”
She nodded and lifted her arms to accept him into the haven of her body.
Oh, God. The tears were coming back with a vengeance. She was so accepting of him, even after he’d been so difficult that day. Even after he’d distanced himself from her and tested her, tried to make her jealous and make him wonder about him and his intentions, after he’d punched Finn and screamed at her in the precinct parking lot.
Burying his face in her neck, he slid inside and wept. Each dive inside her body had him chanting I love you, I love you, I love you in his mind, hoping she could feel it, sense it and let him know somehow…
Pushing at him, she made him look at her. Smiling softly at him, she cupped his face in her hands and gazed at him. The wealth of emotion pouring from her eyes told him just what he needed to know.
She loved him. She did. This angel loved him. His angel.
“You were made for me,” he said to her and kissed her deeply, probing deep inside her with his cock and his tongue, wanting all of her for him.
He knew too, that he had to give and even if he couldn’t yet say the words, even if he didn’t know all the ways to let her know, even if he was inept at times and fumbled through his feelings and his life…he loved her with his whole being and was so afraid to lose her that his soul tremored and his heart ached at the thought. He had met his match in her, and he would not give her up for the world, even if one day she decided that she wanted no part of him, he would stay by her, hoping to one day find a way to bask in her light again.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he watched the play of emotions flit across her face, but one remained the same, ever clear and ever present: Love. Her love for him. It wasn’t her jealousy he felt cover him, it was her love, and it didn’t just cover him, it encompassed every single part of him, bursting in starbursts through him, causing his heart to leap, his throat to clog and every sense to be full of her. It was Buffy, all Buffy.
Pounding inside her, he hoped to convey through his touch, his caresses and him inside her, that she meant everything to him and that without her, he’d be lost.
Please don’t make me say it just yet, Buffy, he pleaded with her.
Her eyes rolled up and she snapped her lids tight, gasping “Yes! Oh, God, yes, Spike!”
That was all it took to have him spilling inside her, roaring her name, his head thrown back as he pumped his seed inside her.
Collapsing against her, he nuzzled her neck, kissed her unhurriedly, and smiled at her.
Gazing up at him searchingly, she gave voice to that which he feared. “I love you,” she told him, her eyes welling with tears.
Unable to hurt her by not being yet able to say it back, and not wanting to see her face as it crumbled in disappointment under his inability to express himself properly, Spike buried his face back in her neck, holding her tightly to him, trying to show her with his body that he was never going to let her go.