It’s been a while since the last update and even longer since I’ve replied to the very kind feedback some of you have left for me. Please forgive my horrible rudeness. I’ve had some real-life issues that have kept me preoccupied for the last few months, but that’s no excuse. I should have made time to catch up long before now. ::is very ashamed::
I’ve been on a pretty even keel, healthwise, for the last couple of months. I want to thank you all here, collectively, for your kind wishes.
I wasn’t going to post another update until I’d caught up on replies. But since I’m in the process of doing that now, I guess I’ll go ahead and cheat a little. ::bad, annapurna!::
For those who’ve forgotten where we left off and who don’t want to go back and re-read the last 11 chapters all over again, here’s a synopsis of the story so far:
Buffy gets a mysterious summons from Giles that takes her to his estate in England. There, she finds Spike who, along with Illyria, was teleported out of the NFA alley in the midst of the big battle. Only hitch is, he’s in an unexplained comatose state, which may or may not have something to do with the infamous Shanshu prophecy.
Buffy finally figures out the quickest way to wake him up. (Any guesses as to what that would be? Heh.) But Spike’s a little pissed off that Buffy put her life at risk to do it, and Buffy’s pissed that he’s pissed. So…surprise, surprise…they’re not really talking to each other the way they should be. Which makes rescuing Angel and Gunn from an alternate dimension just a wee bit tricky, but those stubborn kids are gonna give it a shot anyway.
Shortly after arriving in the alternate dimension, the two of them get a little…um…distracted. Then Buffy says something stupid and Spike says something stupid and…well, think you can see where this is heading. And then things really heat up...literally...when that pesky NFA dragon shows up. But that's nothing compared to what happens once Buffy finally tracks down Angel. It's deja vu with the Angel kissage, though Buffy's heart isn't in that relationship anymore. But good luck convincing Spike of that when he sees them and storms off...
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CHAPTER TWELVE
Buffy tightened her grip as Spike tensed beneath her, determined not to let him toss her off. Ever since he’d come out of his mystically induced coma, or whatever the hell it had been, they’d done nothing except butt heads and she was getting damned tired of it.
No more. She’d make him listen, make him talk to her, and she wouldn’t let anything he might say get to her. This time she’d keep a tight rein on her temper. She’d be cool, collected Buffy, relentlessly calm and oh-so-rational.
She would. Really.
Cradling his hips in a vise-like grip between her thighs, she spoke low and urgently into his ear. “I know it looked bad, but it’s not what you’re thinking. So just stop being an ass and talk to me, okay?”
He responded with a long, drawn-out growl that rumbled deep in his chest, but aside from that Spike remained stubbornly mute. Only half of his face was visible to her. The other side was pressed against the ground, somewhat dampening the full effect of the glare she knew would be leveled at her once she climbed off his back and let him up. Anger literally vibrated through every taut muscle in his body.
She sighed. “You’re going to make this really hard, aren’t you? Fine. You listen. I’ll talk.”
Only she didn’t, because clearly she didn’t know the magic words. She thought she’d figured it out, down on the Hellmouth when the Great Light Bulb of Epiphany had suddenly clicked on. Too late to do either of them any good. Then, miraculously, she’d gained a second chance and had earnestly poured out her heart to her stubborn Sleeping Beauty. Now she had him back.
Except…not. The first time he hadn’t believed her, and the second time he’d been unconscious. He hadn’t heard a word, but it obviously wouldn’t have mattered if he had. Spike still couldn’t accept that she loved him, and the stupid Angel kissage he’d just witnessed pretty much sealed the deal.
So what could she possibly say to make everything right again when things had never been right to begin with?
It shouldn’t have, but it took her by surprise when Spike suddenly bucked beneath her, sending her sliding sideways as he twisted around to break her hold. He surged to his feet, all deadly grace and piercing eyes, but that momentary advantage didn’t last.
Moving faster than she ever had, Buffy jumped him again and they tumbled to the ground. This time, they were nose-to-nose and chest-to-chest. No more wiggle room for him to escape. No way to ignore the very obvious physical effect their tussle was having on him.
Good to know at least some things never changed. But it went both ways, and it was rapidly becoming apparent to her that Spike wasn’t the only one feeling all hot and bothered. In fact, things were getting all muddled in her head. It was hard to concentrate on what she needed to say when all she wanted to do was...
“Get off.”
She blinked. Oh. He meant…
“I said. Get. Off.” His jaw was clenched so tightly she could barely see his lips move. If she’d been a vampire, he could have dusted her with his glare.
Dusted. Wait a minute. The Great Light Bulb of Epiphany clicked on again.
“Would you kill Drusilla for me?”
If Buffy hadn’t grabbed his attention already, she definitely had it now. She sat up but otherwise stayed put. Spike followed her, as much as his position allowed, and propped himself up with his elbows.
“What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”
She answered his wary look with a steady gaze. “If Drusilla came walking down that street, would you kill her? You offered to do that once, to prove you loved me. Would you still do it?”
Spike’s head tilted. His eyes narrowed. “What are you playin’ at, Buffy?”
“Just making a point. We both know you wouldn’t kill Drusilla just because I asked you to do it. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have done it back then either. Not when it came right down to it. She’s important to you, Spike. She means something. As much as I may not like it, that’s never going to change.”
In the silence between them lay things Buffy knew neither of them was quite willing to say out loud. Then Spike sighed.
“You’re not talking about me and Dru. You mean Angel, and what he is to you.”
She stared into his eyes, willing him to see. “He’ll always be important to me. You have to know that. But it doesn’t mean—“
“That you can’t care about me, too. Yeah, got that part.” He returned her gaze, suddenly cool and frighteningly remote. “Difference is, pet, when it came down to it, I made a choice and never looked back. Reckon you can’t say as much.”
With a strangled cry of frustration, Buffy rolled off of him and surged to her feet. “God, Spike, why can’t you listen? Why can’t you hear me?” She moved away, hands curling into impotent fists as she swung back to face him.
He still lay on the ground, his hair slightly mussed and a telltale bulge straining against the black denim of his pants. He should have looked smaller without his leather coat. He wasn’t a big man. He just carried himself that way. His larger-than-life attitude tended to make people forget any lack of stature. That, and the way his habitual black T-shirt outlined a deliciously muscled chest and biceps. But even in his borrowed button-down shirt, Spike filled Buffy’s vision till she couldn’t see anything else.
He didn’t seem in any hurry to answer her, taking his time getting to his feet. “I heard you, Buffy. Back then.” Standing now, Spike faced her, shoulders back and legs apart, as if bracing himself for a physical blow. “I did what you wanted. What you asked me for all those times. I finally let go.”
She stared at him.
“What I--? Spike, that was ages ago! We were different people then and it was all so messed up. Did I ask you to let go…our last months together? Is that what you heard on the Hellmouth? Because that’s not what I was saying.”
Angry and a little bit desperate now, Buffy moved closer. Had he really let go? Is that why he’d seemed to accept Angel kissing her…why he believed that she’d been kissing him back? Which she so had not. Not the second time anyway. The first time had just…well, like she’d tried to explain, she still cared about Angel. Still loved him, though not in the same way she once had. And despite what Spike insisted, Buffy was willing to bet that he wouldn’t be Mr. Totally Indifferent if Drusilla tried hard enough to fan those old flames.
Not that he would consider hooking up with his crazy ex again. She was pretty certain of that. But there would always be something there, and she couldn’t be jealous of it. Not really, because she understood how impossible it was to ignore. So why didn’t he?
“I know what you were sayin’, Buffy. What you were trying to do. But let’s stop pretending, all right? We found Angel. He’s human now -- footloose and curse-free. All yours. Changes things, doesn’t it? So go on.” He waved a hand toward the street where she’d left Angel standing. “Trot on back to the pillock and put us all out of our bloody misery. Make him the happiest ex-vamp in the world, just like you always wanted.”
She scowled at him. “Well, you got one thing right. That was what I wanted. But, hello! Past tense!” Eyes narrowing, she folded her arms and raised her chin in silent challenge. “I think the real question here is what you want.”
He gaped at her. “What I want?” Throwing his head back, he barked out a harsh laugh then swung into his familiar caged-animal pacing. “That’s bloody rich! Doesn’t matter what I want because I’m never gonna get it, am I?”
“I don’t know, Spike!” She gestured helplessly. “Maybe if you told me what it is, I could give you an answer. I used to know, but everything’s changed. You were back for a whole year but you never told me. And don’t kid yourself – you knew it would matter. You didn’t come, and you didn’t call, and you didn’t write. You even told Andrew not to say anything. So why don’t you tell me? Why don’t you put us out of our ‘bloody misery’ and just tell me what you want?”
He whirled to confront her. “I want to be first, all right? I want to stop followin’ in sainted Angel’s bloody footsteps. Just once I want somethin’ he hasn’t had! The women I love. The friends I made. The shining, glorious destiny. Even the sodding amulet! They were all his first!” Fists clenched, he let out a frustrated growl. Then his head fell forward and his shoulders slumped. “Reckon they still are,” he whispered.
A pang shot through Buffy at the weary hopelessness in his voice.
“I don’t want to be the consolation prize anymore. I want something that belongs to me. Just me.”
And that’s when she realized Spike was right. He would never get what he wanted. Not from her.
It was a bitter truth that hurt more than she could have imagined.
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Spike waited, but for once he’d left the slayer speechless. And why not? It was true, wasn’t it? Not her fault. Just was. Nothing she could say would make it any different.
Despite that certainty, he raised his head a bit, slanting a sideways look at her. He caught her staring blankly at the ground, brow furrowed, but then her gaze suddenly shifted to lock with his. She shook her head as a hint of something flitted across her face – an emotion he couldn’t quite read.
“Spike…I wish I could give you that. You don’t know how much I wish. But I can’t. It’s too late, and there are people in my life that I can’t…that I won’t give up. They’ll always have a part of me, just like I have a part of them. Even when they’re gone.”
Her voice caught on the last word, but then her shoulders straightened and her eyes filled with resolve. “I can’t help what I felt for Angel, or the fact that I met him first. That I loved him before I ever knew you. I can’t help that it took so long to figure out what I felt for you was real and right. And I can’t change how confused I was or how much we hurt each other.”
As much as Spike wanted to tune out the painful litany of regrets, to close his eyes to what he knew would come next, he couldn’t. And when Buffy crossed to him and raised a hand to caress his cheek, he was helpless to look away.
“I can’t change the past, but I know what I want now. What I need.” Large and luminous eyes willed him to believe. “You, Spike. Just you. That’s all I’ve wanted for a long time, only I thought it was too late. It looked bad back there…I see that. But I told you, it didn’t mean what you’re thinking. Not for me. I know you didn’t believe me before when I told you how I felt. That was my fault, and I’m sorry. But you have to believe it now. I love you, Spike. You’re who I want to be with. The one-and-only, real deal, accept-no-substitutes.” She smiled softly. “You’re my guy.”
Staring at her, Spike tried to process the words. He should have been elated. Should have been crowing or crying or something. But looking at her now, all he could see was a flash of golden hair across a crowded dance floor. The sofa in her Italian flat where she’d snuggled with The Immortal the way she’d never snuggled with him, until those last few nights together. Even then it had been more about what he could give her than what they could give each other.
He couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“Yeah? That why you were shaggin’ The Immortal cross-eyed? ’Cause you were missin’ me so much?”
For an instant, her eyes widened. Then her gaze went flat and cold. “You know, for some reason I can’t figure out, I keep forgetting just how big an asshole you can be.”
And that was about the time everything Buffy had said to him finally sank in. That’s also when it dawned on Spike that his accusation, eating at him ever since the ill-fated trip to Rome, could have been a little better timed. “Buffy, I--”
“Forget it.” She cut him off. “My mistake. Just like always.”
“Buffy, no. Please…” He tried to keep her from turning away, but she evaded his grip and raised a hand to ward him off.
“Don’t. Just…don’t. I can’t talk to you right now.”
Spike sighed. “I’m an idiot, love, all right? I just--”
“Can’t help yourself?” A familiar voice finished the sentence for him.
It didn’t take long to spot the source. It was Angel, of course, arms folded, leaning against the side of a building. Buffy looked as surprised as Spike felt. Neither of them had detected Angel’s approach.
“I should probably say I’m sorry for interrupting, but…really not. You’re just lucky you stopped in the middle of the, uh…well, I guess you could call it the business district. Otherwise you’d have quite an audience right about now.”
His tone was neutral, and Spike couldn’t tell how much he’d heard, if anything. He was still trying to suss it out when Angel pushed away from the building, all business now.
“Look, things are different here. When the sun comes up, it comes up fast. As in, you might catch a glimpse of it before you go poof. I saw it happen to a couple of vamps that came through the portal with us. And it stays up for what we’d consider a couple of days, so deadline or no deadline, I wouldn’t count on going anywhere soon.” His veiled gaze traveled from Spike to Buffy. “There’s room for both of you in the tavern. It’s where I work…me and Gunn. There’s plenty of food and a place to sleep. You can take shelter there while we figure things out.”
Spike was just on the verge of demanding what “things” – how they would make it back to the portal before it closed or some other thing – but Buffy spoke up.
“Poof, huh?” She glared at Spike, her gaze hard and accusing. “And that would be bad why?”
He met her eyes for a beat then looked away. Okay, he knew how badly he’d fucked up. Again. But in front of Angel, it more than stung.
Angel snorted. “There was a time you wouldn’t have heard any arguments from me. But you know, no matter how crazy he makes us, you have to admit he keeps things…interesting.” His gaze flicked back to Spike. “Stupid, but interesting.”
Then Angel raised a hand, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder. “I wasn’t kidding about the sun. We need to get a move on.” Then he promptly suited action to words, striding back the way they had come.
Spike glanced at Buffy, who now seemed determined not to look at him. Without a word, she headed after Angel. Spike noticed there was no sign of her sword or the weapons bag. She’d probably dropped them while she and Angel had been busy snogging.
“Come on, Spike.” Even from a distance he could detect the note of impatience creeping into Angel’s voice. “I’ve got a bet to collect. Gunn thought nobody would be coming after us. Can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes he’s got to pay up.”
As the other two disappeared around a curve, Spike made no move to follow. He felt wrung out, like he’d just stepped off the Roller Coaster Ride from Hell. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move.
A few seconds passed, then he shook it off with a low growl. Scooping up his dropped weapons, he gripped the sword hilt and shouldered the crossbow, casting a wary eye at the still-dark sky. Another moment of indecision passed before he moved to trail reluctantly after the now-vanished Buffy and Angel.
As wild as things had been since he was snatched away from that last stand in the alley, something told Spike he hadn’t seen anything yet.
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TBC in Chapter Thirteen
A/N: Ooooh, don’t you just want to whop them both upside the head? Or possibly, me? Heh. I'm off now for a dinner break, but I'll be back in a bit to finish catching up on overdue replies.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is currently a WIP written in response to a Spuffy Kinkathon challenge. The story requirements were as follows: The requested kink was hurt/comfort. Three other requests were to show Spike reluctantly biting Buffy, include Dawn and/or Xander in the story, and set it anywhere from Season 5 to Post-NFA.