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Author's Chapter Notes:
Where to even begin? I'm sorry updates are taking so long. I was away on vacation for quite awhile, and well..now I'm going through some major life changes. Good changes, though. I know a lot of you are aware of the fact that I've been under a lot of stress for the last several months, and it's made it very difficult for me to write. Well, I will soon be moving across the country...away from the major stressors in my life. This is a huge deal to me. Once I'm settled in my new location, I'll have my life back a bit and be free to write as I please. That thought makes me very happy. I really want to thank everyone for all the wonderful support I've gotten over the months on this site. That's made a huge difference in my life. I met one of my best friends on this site! And know that I haven't stopped work on any of my stories, and I look forward to updating them all in the future. I'm so busy with the stress of sorting this move that I didn't think I would be able to work on anything right now, buuut I have to say I got an extra burst of motivation from my CoH nominations. Thank you to whoever nominated me. It put a huge much-needed smile on my face. And thank you to all of my wonderful readers for keeping my stories going all this time. You're all amazing!
Chapter Nine:

When Spike left Buffy to lay down for his own mid-morning nap, he never expected this.

As he lay in bed, his head propped up on an over-stuffed pillow, he watched intently as the petite blonde slid slowly under the sheet next to him. As he felt her warm body press against his, he became intensely aware of his complete state of undress. It seemed quite odd really, he was sure he had opted to wear a pair of well-worn sweatpants to bed on the chance that he had to quickly come to the aid of the bruised girl on his couch. But now, as he felt his friend's hand coast across his pelvis, it was clear he had no covering but the thin sheet draped low on his body.

"B-buffy, luv..." he stuttered, willing himself to become more awake, "what are you doing? Are you all right?"

The blonde girl simply cocked her head at him as her lips spread into a sly grin. He squinted his eyes in the dim room. Funny how her skin didn't look as marred when she was only bathed in what small amount of light shone in the room between the cracks in the blinds.

Spike struggled to lean up on his elbows as her hand trailed up his chest until it was finally pressing softly against his cheek, lightly coaxing his head to fully face her. His brow furrowed in confusion at her almost predatory expression.

"I want you," she whispered so quietly that it was almost like a breath rather than actual words.

Spike's eyes widened, "What?! Buffy....what's going on? What are you—"

His words were swallowed by Buffy's lips crashing on his own. He attempted to pull his face back, but she kept guiding his mouth back to hers. Against his will, his eyes fluttered shut. He knew it shouldn't feel so good...but damn, he never expected her lips to taste so sweet. Finally, he gave in and allowed himself to kiss his friend back with the same fervor she had initiated the encounter with.

As Spike's lips slid more frantically over Buffy's, he moved to gently push her body down onto the firm mattress. So lost in the sensation of her skin against his and the breathy moans she emitted as his tongue tangled with her own, he didn't even think to question why she was no longer flinching in pain from her bruised and battered form.

"Oh..Buffy..." he breathed into her mouth as he pressed his body down on hers, feeling her soft breasts rub against the hard planes of his chest. He felt warm all over and let the sensation carry him as he moved his hand to run his fingers through her golden hair. As their bodies moved together, Spike suddenly became aware of a familiar coppery taste on his lips. He furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly from the girl, ignoring her attempts to lead his mouth back to her own.

As her face became clearer to him in the dim room, his heart sped up. He could now see that her lips, only inches from his own, were freshly broken and bleeding so severely that it ran in rivulets down her chin. It seemed impossible for so much of the sticky red liquid to be produced, but there it was in front of him...and on his own lips...and in his mouth. He stared down at her in shock and was startled when he felt her hand on the back of his head guiding his lips back to her own. He struggled to keep his head pulled back, but it seemed as if she suddenly had the strength of ten men.

As his lips reached hers, he shouted into her mouth, "Buffy! No!" It did little good as she smashed her lips against his and his taste buds were once against flooded with the sweet flavor of blood....

Spike's eyes flew open as he quickly pushed himself upright in his bed, panting into the empty room. His eyes darted quickly around the space, but he could see that he was alone. He flopped back down on the mattress and threw one shaking arm over his face. Fuck, mate, what kind of sick bastard has dreams like that after his best friend has been raped?

Spike was keenly aware of the thin sheen of perspiration now coating his trembling body. As he struggled to get his breathing under control, he ran one tired hand down his face focusing his eyes on the ceiling. What kind of sick bastard....

Shaking his head, he stiffly maneuvered his body out of bed. He grabbed a fresh pair of sweatpants from his chest of drawers and headed out into the hallway intent on showering away some of the filth he felt permeating his body, though he knew feeling completely clean was unlikely at that moment. He paused just outside of the bathroom. Heaving a pained sigh, he tossed his sweatpants onto the floor and turned towards the living room to check on the subject of his disturbing dream.

As he rounded the corner, he saw her there, still curled up on the couch wrapped in the soft blanket. Clearly, she was finding little peace in slumber as her body twitched restlessly and her rough lips formed a deep frown. Spike leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling wearier than he had in years...than he ever had really.

Satisfied that Buffy was safe and sound for the moment, he turned away and headed into the small bathroom. He couldn't bring himself to look at his reflection as he stripped the damp cotton pants from his body. He really wasn't sure what he would see if he did. Sighing for what felt like the millionth time in the last twelve hours, he turned on the shower spray and stepped into the tub before the water had even reached lukewarm. A cold shower would serve him right after the confusing visuals his subconscious had delivered him. He tilted his body against the cool shower wall and allowed his eyes to drift shut. He barely felt the water hitting his skin as his heart rate began to slow.

"Spike..."


Chapter End Notes:
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