Chapter 2: The Proposal
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The cemeteries were quiet that night, making Buffy actually wish for some action. The evening with Dawn had proved trying and now she could do with working away some of the tension, some of the anger.
She was so unbelievably angry with the whole situation. As if her life wasn’t as messed up and crazy as it was, now Dawn had thrown her a huge curveball in the form of an impromptu marriage to Spike.
Spike!
Like the whole fake marriage wasn’t enough, no, it had to be to the biggest pain in the ass she knew. She was just so frustrated with it all.
Underneath all that anger, she was so tired. Tired of everything, of having to do her duty because she had to. It was always just something else she had to do to keep things going, to make things work. It was tiring. If she wasn’t saving the world, then she was trying to keep together the shambles that was her life.
With the lack of vampire activity around her, Buffy stomped her way towards Spike’s cemetery to try and find the bleach blond vampire.
A twig snapped to her left, causing her to still and become aware of the slight tingling sensation on the back of her neck. Who else would be following her on patrol?
“Spike, get your ass out here,” she ordered, crossing her arms.
“Fancy meeting you here pet,” he drawled as he emerged from the bushes, a smile gracing his still battered face as if she hadn’t just caught him spying on her.
“You know, the whole stalker boy routine is getting pretty lame. Normally, I’d just tell you to buzz off, but we’ve got to talk.”
“Alright love, I’m all ears,” Spike replied and then hoisted himself onto the nearest tombstone.
It hit her then how awkward this was, for her at least. Buffy paced a few steps back and forth trying to figure out how to approach this. She’d been so certain earlier and now that she was face to face with him, she wasn’t so sure. There was something about Spike that completely unraveled her sometimes.
Spike tilted his head as he took in the Slayer’s demeanor. She looked a bit tired, lacking the usual fire she normally had. Her eyes looked hauntingly hollow, so much so that it sent a chill down his spine.
“How are you?” she finally asked, giving him a weak smile to cover up the awkwardness. It was the first time she’d seen him since the whole ‘Glory torture Spike’ session and the mess with the Buffybot. Not to mention the not so spell induced kiss.
“I’ve been better and I’ve been worse,” he answered, giving her a smile, but his face was still a mass of bruises, his right eye still swollen.
“Did your ribs set okay?”
“Slayer, I’m fine. Now tell me what’s got you all in a tizzy and wantin’ to talk to me,” he said, leaning towards her, his brows drawn together in a frown.
“Dawn.”
Spike’s eye grew wide and he began to scan the cemetery. “Yeah Slayer, but dawn’s not for a couple more hours,” he replied back as he continued to scan the cemetery and use his senses to see if anyone was around.
“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, hands on her hips, staring him down as he hopped off the tombstone and came towards her. She began to take a step back but then stopped and held her ground, tensing as Spike leaned in closer.
“Slayer, we’re out in the open. You really want to be talking about whatever it is you want to talk about out here? ‘Specially if it has to do with…”
He left his sentence hanging but there wasn’t any doubt to whom he was referring to. Buffy cursed herself. She hadn’t thought twice about talking to Spike out in the open, but then the vampire seemed to be two steps ahead of her sometimes. She really hated him for that; she hated him for thinking more of her sister’s safety than she did.
“Fine, your crypt it is,” she fumed.
Buffy turned without another word and while she didn’t say anything to encourage Spike, she felt him fall into step beside her, his longer legs easily keeping up with her quick, angry stride. They hadn’t set more than two steps inside his crypt and had the door shut when Spike started firing questions.
“Dawn? Is she okay? The hellbitch didn’t…”
“No,” Buffy cut him off, laying a hand on his arm to reassure him. The wild look in his eyes was wigging her. “Dawn’s fine. She’s at home, hopefully sleeping. Unfortunately, Dawn’s big mouth seems to have gotten us into a bit of a situation.”
“Us?” Spike questioned, trying not to react to her warm hand still resting on his arm.
“Apparently today the social workers paid Dawn a visit,” Buffy began.
“And that involves me and you how?” He internally smirked as he saw Buffy’s eyes lit up with anger as he pushed her. There was his Slayer. He probably shouldn’t be pushing her buttons like he was, but Spike couldn’t help himself. Buffy’s suddenly quiet manner earlier wasn’t like her.
“I’m getting there, don’t be so impatient,” Buffy snapped, removing her hand but leaning towards him.
“Right, because you’re the perfect picture of patience,” Spike mocked.
“A lot better than you. Now if you would just shut up for once I could tell you what Dawn did!” she all but yelled, again leaning closer to get into his face.
“Fine Slayer, lay it on me, I promise to be extra good,” he leered at her, curling his tongue behind his teeth. God, she was gorgeous when she was pissed. They were nose to nose and Spike could feel her warm breath against his skin, his body already remembering how it felt to have her lips on his. Every muscle in him was tensing to see how Buffy would let this play out.
“Dawn told them we were married,” she growled out as if it were all somehow his fault.
Spike’s sudden bark of laughter startled Buffy and she gave a jump, moving away from him. His rumbling baritone laughter echoed in the quiet crypt as he held onto his sides, trying to control his mirth.
“What are you laughing at?” Buffy snapped.
Spike peered at the Slayer and took a deep breath, trying to regain composure. “Oh come on love, you can’t say this isn’t all a bit comical? I mean, Red did the mojo last time to make us married and now the Nibblet’s gone and done it. It all has a certain irony to it,” he said with a smirk.
“Fine, it’s ironic. So what? I don’t think you’re getting it. Dawn told them we were married, to each other,” she repeated, motioning between the two of them.
“You sure the witch hasn’t been casting spells?” he asked suspiciously.
“Nope, this was all Dawn’s doing.”
“You sure pet? This isn’t some elaborate plan to get your hands on my hot, tight body?” he teased.
“As if! Like I would…” Buffy trailed off, her anger getting the best of her and she barely resisted the urge to smack him. “You know what? Forget it. Forget it! I so knew the plan would never work. I don’t know why I told Dawn I’d even try. It’s not like I want to pretend to be married to you or anything. That’s it. Dawn’s going to be taken away from me. I knew that you would never care enough to--”
Spike’s sudden grip on her arms caused her to pause and glare up at him.
“You are the last person that should ever be thinking or saying that Slayer,” he snarled in her face. “It’s not like these bruises got there themselves.”
Buffy failed to respond, letting the quiet of the crypt intrude on their exchange. They both stiffened waiting for the other to speak.
He was right, absolutely and completely right. And it made her hate him just a bit more. How he could see straight through her and his blunt, assessing manner was unnerving as hell sometimes, particularly moments like this.
Still, Spike was loyal to the end. He’d proven that with Glory. He was the one pain in the ass that would never leave, even when she threatened to dust him. She knew he’d be there. She knew she could depend on him. She knew she could trust him.
She touched her hand to her temple. God, her head hurt. Everything Dawn had said swirled in her head and now added with her own thoughts, it was just a bit too much to take at the moment. Taking a deep breath, she pulled all her thoughts and tucked them away for later, when she was alone.
Buffy took another deep breath, forcing it out her mouth and using those calming techniques Giles had been so keen on teaching her.
“Now pet, what’s this plan of pretending to be married?” Spike asked curiously.
“Dawn told the social workers that we were married,” she simply said.
“Yeah, I got that part Slayer.”
Buffy pulled her arms out of his hands none too gently and balled her fists by her side.
“Maybe all that peroxide had damaged what little brain you have left Spikey, because apparently you aren’t getting it,” Buffy snapped, taking a step closer to him so they almost touched. “Dawn told them we were married, as in you and me, ‘til death do us part married.”
“I’m familiar with what marriage is pet. I don’t think either one of us forgot Red’s little spell, or would you like me to refresh your memory?” he asked, his full lips stretching into a lazy smirk.
For a few seconds Buffy was lost in memories of those lips and how they felt on her own, and on her neck, and… She shook herself free of the memory to find Spike staring down at her lips, only a few inches away.
“No thanks, I’d rather keep my dinner down,” she replied, taking a few steps back from him. How did she even let herself get so close to begin with? She couldn’t help but notice the flash of pain that crossed his face before he closed himself off and moved back away from her another few inches, not saying a thing, the muscle in his jaw giving a little jump beneath that bruised flesh.
Spike turned away from her, standing in front of one of the sarcophaguses, his hands digging into the cool stone as he wrapped his hands around the edges.
“What do you want Buffy?” he asked, his voice sounding distant.
Buffy had never heard that tone from him before and she wasn’t sure exactly what it was without looking at his face.
“Look, this was Dawn’s idea, not mine. The social workers think we’re married and the only way to keep them thinking that is if we pretend to be married. Our idea is if we can pretend well enough they’ll think Dawn’s doing good here and leave us alone.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” she questioned. “Just like that? No questions, no complaints, nothing?”
“Do you want me to complain?” Spike growled as he whipped around, his hands reaching behind him still holding on to the sarcophagus, the stone digging into his palms keeping him grounded.
“Well, no, but I didn’t expect you to agree either,” Buffy admitted with a frown.
“I’m not going to fight if that’s what you’re expectin’.”
“I didn’t think you’d go along with it at all, not to help me.”
“I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Dawn.”
The words stung and she didn’t exactly know why, but they did hurt, and for a second, Spike saw the flash of pain behind her eyes.
“Buffy, I--” Spike started, but Buffy cut him off.
“No, you’re right, this isn’t about me, this is for Dawn,” she stated, trying to keep her voice neutral but failing, the bitter edge to her voice was apparent. “Just umm… come by the house tomorrow and we’ll figure out everything.”
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She was angry. Angrier than she remembered being when she first headed out the door that night. Spike’s words had hit hard. She wasn’t certain why they hurt and the fact that they did, bugged her more than she liked to admit. Why should she care what Spike thought?
“I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for Dawn.”
There it was again, the little dig. It was for Dawn, just like everything else had been lately. Had to do this for Dawn, and had to do that for Dawn. When was anything going to happen for her? It wasn’t that no one was concerned about her, because they were, but they also had their own lives and were wrapped up in each other. Everyone was paired off, except for her, and well, Giles, but he didn’t count.
Buffy was so far into her inner musings that she didn’t feel or hear the vamp creep up behind her until his body slammed her into the ground, just the proper distraction she needed.
“Oh, you are so going to regret that,” she mumbled, before swinging her head back and cracking the vampire in the face. She took the opportunity to roll him off her and climb to her feet. She let the vamp get to his own feet before taking up a fighting stance.
There were no words, no witty repartee, just a rain of blocks and punches, kicks and counter attacks. She took out all her frustration and anger out on the vamp until he was a bloody mess and then she staked him, turning her head away from the violence she’d unleashed on him.
Buffy fell to her knees, clenching her eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to fall. She tightened her hand around her stake, the pain helping her to stop from breaking down. It was so tempting, so tempting to just break, to fall apart, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.
With a deep breath, she got up and hurried home before she could think more on what she had just done.
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Sleep found Buffy that night in a series of dreams, mostly involving Spike and a tux, and the removal of said tux. By four am, she was blearily eyed in an effort to stay awake. She didn’t know which was more frustrating, having the dreams, or that she couldn’t do anything about them.
Oh but she was itching to.
Her skin was flushed and she’d thrown off the covers to help cool herself down. She reclined against her headboard, trying to get her mind to concentrate on something other than her last dream, which hadn’t been anywhere near PG-13. She could still vividly recall the way it felt to have dream Spike trail his tongue across her neck, her chest, and downward.
Buffy gave a growl of irritation and thumped her fists against the mattress. She would not think about Spike.
Do not think about Spike.
She repeated the line over and over but still felt herself sway as sleep began to pull at her. She was helpless against it as her tired mind drifted off.
She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by mist. She stepped forward and walked directly into the spray of water coming from a showerhead. Letting the water glide over her back, she let out a sigh.
She almost screamed as hands settled on her naked shoulders. She was cut short by the tingles at her neck letting her know who it was. His large hands smoothed down her back, gently kneading the muscles there. She couldn’t help but sigh again as he worked the knots in her back. His hands felt like heaven and paired with the hot water, she couldn’t be more relaxed. Which was the only reason she hadn’t resisted him as he raised back her arms and wrapped them around his neck.
His arms came around her waist, hands resting on her stomach as his thumbs rubbed circles into her soft skin. His hands slowly slid upward, inch by inch, making her breath catch in her throat at his feather light touch. He cupped her breasts gently, thumbs barely brushing her nipples, causing them to stand at attention.
Buffy gave a little mewl and pressed herself into his hands, wanting more, arching her head back and to the side, giving him access to her neck. His lips were velvety soft against her skin as he peppered kisses up and down her neck, his hands continuing to toy with her breasts, but never rushing. His movements were slow and measured, as if he knew what every touch would do to her.
One hand left her chest and glided downward, his fingers dancing along her hip, skirting the area that she wanted him to touch the most. As he continued to string her along a few moments longer, Buffy decided she’d been passive enough and with a quick twist, she turned and pushed against his chest, knocking him against the wall that was suddenly there.
She did take a moment to look at him though. He was all sleek muscle, his white skin slightly flushed with the heat of the water. He was breathing hard, all muscles tense as he waited for her to do something. She locked eyes with him and for a moment forgot to breathe.
They were crystal blue, surrounded by thick black lashes. His normally slicked back hair was a riot of curls and she had the sudden urge to tangle her hands in it. Making quick work of the space between them, she did just that. She took handfuls of that utterly soft hair in her hands and pulled him down towards her, finally doing what she’d been denying herself all night long and kissed him.
His lips were softer underneath hers than she remembered, and she took a moment just to be content with how they felt under hers, but soon it wasn’t enough, she needed more. They both mutually opened to each other, tongues clashing as they both fought for dominance, his hands grabbing onto her hips and bringing her flush against him. He gave a groan as she let go of his lips but it turned into a moan as she nibbled down his neck, giving the place where his pulse should have been beating extra attention.
Suddenly Buffy found herself slammed up against the wall, staring up into amber eyes, her breathing coming out faster as he held both of her wrists with one hand above her head, stretching them on just this side of pain. Spike nudged his way between her thighs, using his free hand to lift up one of her legs to wrap around his lean hips and brushing his cock against her folds, making her shudder in pleasure.
Spike stared into her eyes as he grazed his cock against her again, watching as her eyes closed and her breathing sped up. He licked along her neck, feeling the blood pump beneath the surface. Buffy knew it was dangerous, letting him get so close, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop him and instead wrapped her other leg around him, bringing him closer to her.
There was no warning. One moment Spike wasn’t in her and the next moment he was, pushed in so deep, the sudden sensation causing her to cry out. He filled her completely. He shifted his footing, only his hips pinning her to the wall keeping her up, his free hand latched onto her hip.
She opened her eyes to see him still staring at her, amber eyes gone now. He only held her gaze a moment before starting a deep thrust, the pain and pleasure of it rolling her eyes back into her head and lolling her head against the wall. Her arms went free as he let them go to grab her other hip, and she wrapped them around his back, nails digging into the smooth skin, but it only spurred him on. His thrusts were deep and fast, almost if they started down from his feet and went upward; it took her breath away.
She was close, so close. There was a fine tremor that raced down Spike’s back, telling her how close he was too. He kept rhythm even as he paid equal attention to her breast and neck, lavishing both with love bites.
Spike shifted her hips, his cock rubbing against a new spot and making her give a loud moan.
“Spike,” she mumbled against his lips before capturing them, only pulling back when she needed to breathe.
She was on the edge, just a moment longer and the whole night would be worth it.
Close…so close…
“Buffy,” Spike whispered against her cheek, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.
One of his hands let go of her hips and moved towards where they were joined. She was on the brink of explosion and he was about to give her what she needed.
So close…
“Buffy! Buffy! Wake up!”
Buffy sky rocketed straight up in bed, on the edge of arousal, and stared into the face of her younger sister.
“You better hurry up or you’re going to be late,” Dawn warned her before flouncing out of the room.
Buffy flopped back down on the bed and fought the urge not to cry.
Damn Dawn…both of them.
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tbc…