“Bloody hell, pet,” he panted out.
Spike had to grasp the wall of the shower to steady his shaky limbs as he watched her through hooded eyes. Her chest was heaving, arms hanging limply at her sides. Fucking gorgeous, she was.
When he had seen her standing there pleasuring herself, he was fully prepared for her to storm off, ranting and raving that this was all a huge mistake. Not for one second had he ever thought that she would participate. It was a fantasy come true.
Perhaps this was the turning point for them. Maybe she was ready to finally take that extra step with him. Even admit that she had feelings for him.
Or maybe not.
Her eyes had returned to their clear and cognitive state and there was nothing warm and fuzzy about the glare she was giving him.
Okay, what the bloody hell just happened? First, there was only this fog of post-orgasmic bliss that seemed to infect them both with a silly, stupid sort of grin. They were relaxed and easy, their extremities empty of all feeling other than a general tingling.
And now, it looked like the shit was going to hit the proverbial fan.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she said in a quiet outrage.
He felt defeated. What did it take? He was really starting to doubt his ability to make this work between them. She ran so hot and cold. And not just any kind of cold, it was the sort of bone-freezing, never-feel-warmth-again ice blast that made skin turn blue and hearts frost over.
“It was amazing, Buffy. What-”
“It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Spike shut his eyes to contain the searing anger that threatened to make him do something incredibly stupid. How could she stand there and tell him it was wrong? It was beautiful, special, and it had rocked him to the core.
Gaining feeling back in his body, he reached over and wrenched the faucets closed. His jaw tightened as he stepped out of the shower, not bothering to cover up his nakedness. This wasn’t some kiddie show, this was the real deal and the sooner she got that through her thick skull, the better off they’d both be.
He slammed his open palm against the wall beside her head, her eyes shutting at the loud slap it created in her ear.
“What the fuck is this, Buffy? I’m tired of these bloody games,” he growled.
If she was afraid, she didn’t show it. Instead she jutted her chin out and defiantly stared up at him.
“Get away from me,” she told him through her clenched white teeth.
“No!” He barked out, throwing his other hand against the wall when she tried to duck away. “You an’ I are gonna ‘ave a little talk. You’re gonna tell me why you think this was so wrong.”
She tried to push him away, but he wasn’t budging. No, not this time.
“Leave me alone, Spike.”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh, baby. Not until we’ve had this out.”
A sound, a cross between a growl and a sigh, escaped her lips. “You know why it was wrong. You told me you would wait.”
He laughed humorlessly, pushing himself away from her. “Are you seriously considering using that as a defense? I was waiting, you crazy bint. I did everything you told me to and yet, you have the balls t’ tell me that I broke our deal?”
“You pushed-”
“No,” he rumbled. “You came in ‘ere. I didn’t push you. You walked your pert little bum in ‘ere your-damn-self and you stuck your bloody hand down your pants! Not me!”
She was trembling now, but not with fear, Spike was sure. “I told you that I didn’t want to have sex with you, but you just kept shoving it in my face. Why can’t you just leave it alone?!”
“How can I when you sit on my lap and wiggle your ass like a bitch in heat? What am I supposed t’ think, eh? You say you don’t want it, but there you were, gettin’ off on me touchin’ myself!”
“You know what? Fuck you, Spike! I didn’t see you stopping either,” she yelled, her hazel-green eyes burning like a brushfire in summer.
“Guy here, yeah?” He placed a hand on his alabaster chest. “Any opportunity I can get, ‘m gonna take.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?! All that bullshit about being faithful and not wanting your fans was all a big fat, fucking lie, wasn’t it?! Jesus, I was so stupid to ever be-”
“Oh, get off it, Buffy! That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
Her lips curved into a sardonic smile. “Sure, Spikey. You didn’t mean that at all.”
“Any opportunity with you. I would jump at the chance t’ be with you, not my bloody fans. What does it take t’ make you believe me?”
The smile slipped from her face and she was suddenly quiet.
His anger was all but gone, being replaced with a cold despair. The tears threatened to spill but he tried to fight them away. Why was he such a simpering git? Crying, again, like he couldn’t control his own emotions. Love’s bitch to the very end.
“Spike…”
“You can’t keep draggin’ me along like this, pet,” he said softly.
She moved to touch his arm, but he shrugged her off. “Spike, please, I’m so-”
“Don’t. Stop playin’ these mind games with me and tell me the soddin’ truth. Do you want t’ be with me or not?”
This was one of those yes or no things. No maybes, no I’ll-think-about-its, nothing that wasn’t either yay or nay would do.
Blaming him for her inability to deal with what they did was wrong. Everything she had said to him was out of anger towards herself, but he didn’t know that. It was easy for her to throw the blame around, to put the fault on everyone that wasn’t her. But that didn’t make it right.
She was afraid of how much she was allowing herself to let him in. Keep ‘em at an arm’s length or further, was her motto. Yet with Spike, she found that she clung to their growing closeness like it was the only thing keeping her from falling off the ledge. She was a self-sufficient woman, but every day it was getting harder and harder to picture her life without him.
And that scared the crap out of her.
“You build me up and tear me down all in the same breath.”
“Spike, I’m so sorry.” Not that the words meant jack because that’s all they were…just words.
He looked haunted, her apology making him sink deeper within himself. “Are you here with me or not, Buffy?”
What he was wanting wasn’t something she had in her to give. Didn’t he know what he was asking of her? It was too much.
“I-I can’t.”
Oliver stared out of the large window in his room, over the expanse of bright Vegas lights, as he exhaled blue smoke from his lungs.
There was a tub full of beautiful women in his bathroom, no doubt getting into the large amount of booze and cocaine he had set out. Funny, though, it was the last place he wanted to be. And even funnier was the fact that the girls didn’t seem to even notice he wasn’t there.
He had a really bad feeling and he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that was pulsing in his gut. Something bad was going to happen.
A loud giggle echoed in the room, but Oliver didn’t spare the bathroom a glance as he took another drag off of his cigarette. He‘d lost his taste for faceless women and drug-induced stupors. Now, the only thing that seemed to matter was the music.
Of course, Spike had thrown that into a tailspin when Drusilla had left him. Oliver had known that Spike would take the break-up hard, but he’d never imagined that Spike would have taken it as far as he did. He had been one bottle of Jack from drinking himself into a bloody coma.
If Buffy hadn’t found him when she did, there was no telling how it all might have turned out.
He liked the girl. Soft with just the right amount of hard-edged attitude. She was a perfect match for Spike. Now if only she would quit denying her feelings.
When he had suggested to Spike that he hire the girl as his assistant, it was really only with Spike’s safety in mind. She could keep an eye out for him; keep the poor soddin’ bastard out of trouble, and out of the hospital.
The night of the impromptu practice, he had every intention of pulling her aside and asking her to pay special attention to Spike. But once he saw them together, he knew that was not something he would have to remind her to do. She was emotionally invested whether she knew it or not.
Rolling his eyes when he began hearing moans from the bathroom, he flicked his cigarette and made for the door. Maybe Xander would be up for some blackjack down in the casino. Frankly, anything was better than watching the same porn scene again.
“Oooh!”
“Sodding chits,” he mumbled as he went out the door.
“Why not?”
Spike watched as a tear slid down her cheek and he struggle with himself to keep from wiping it away.
“I can’t give you what you want, Spike. I just can’t.”
“Why not?” He asked again.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you, baby. I love you.”
Her sharp breath was like a stab through his heart.
“No. No, you can’t love me, Spike,” she told him vehemently.
“Why can’t I?”
“Because you just separated from Drusilla and-”
He put a hand up. “Just stop. This isn’t about Dru. The way I feel about you has nothin’ t’ do with anyone but you an’ me, luv.”
“You just met me,” she argued.
Smiling, he tilted his head. “Feel like I’ve known you forever.”
A panicked look spread over her face and she backed up a little. “I work for you.”
He chuckled. “I could fire you, if you’d like.”
“I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he said as he moved closer to her.
“Spike, don’t.”
They were a breath apart and Spike could feel her body heat seeping into his skin. She smelled like sex and sweetness and all Buffy. It was intoxicating and he felt drunk on her.
“Don’t what?” He gave her a smoldering gaze as he leaned in to trail hot breath across her neck.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice so weak that it was almost a whisper.
His tongue darted out to taste her skin. “I can wait for you. I love you, Buffy. I’ll wait an eternity if you want me to.”
“Spike, I-”
He put a finger across her lips. “Shhh. I know you don’t love me, but I think if you let yourself, you could. Just…please don’t throw this away, luv. I need you.”
Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, hoping to see some spark of acceptance in their hazel-green depths. He knew she felt something for him, however little it was, it was still there. She just needed to acknowledge it so he had something to build on.
She was so closed off. There were things in her past that were making her act this way. He doubted it was just a result of a bad relationship. No, this went deeper than that. If only she would just open up to him.
“Please, kitten. Give us a chance.”
His breath stuck in his lungs as the minutes ticked by, her silence making the void in his heart grow with each passing second. She was going to refuse him, that wasn’t even a question any more. He could tell by her blank stare that she was trying to think of a way of telling him without hurting his feelings.
Bit fucking late for that though.
“If you don’t want me, just bloody say it, Buffy!”
She looked up at him and shook her head. “That’s not it. I-I want…”
God, she was driving him insane with all of this. Couldn’t she just give him an answer?
“What, Buffy? What do you want? Tell me!” He hadn’t meant it so angry, but it came out that way despite his attempts to soften his tone.
“I want to try.”
It was so quiet that he wasn’t sure he’d even heard it. “What?”
She swallowed hard and gave him a steady, confident gaze. “I want to try to be with you, Spike. No more games.”
Well, I’ll be damned. Guess he could make it work after all.
You didn’t think it would all be rainbows and puppies, did you? Sorry about the angst…I know some of you aren’t fans of the drama, but it was a fight that’s been brewin’ for a while now. And I’m sure I’ll have some people who will be very frustrated with the way Buffy is acting. Just give her some time. She doesn’t know what the hell she wants.
Thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter, though. I’m glad you enjoyed it. ; - ) ~Jae