[Reviews - 23]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1921 times

- Text Size +




Chapter Five


She ran hard and fast, the pavement pounding beneath her feet, jarring her head with each step. Jumping over the headstones of the ones she couldn’t save, always those ones, filling her mind with guilt and fear. Out into the street she ran, cold panic coating her. She looked up and down the abandoned road for help, for someone, but they were gone, wouldn’t help her the way she wasn’t able to help them. The shadow just came closer, cold, calculating, and unstoppable. She took off again, she knew where they were, where they always were. Bursting through the library doors, she called out for help.

Giles reached a hand out to her and relief flooded every part of her filling her with hope from her toes to the top of her head. "We know, Buffy. And I hate to say it under this circumstance, but welcome home." He embraced her. Hugging her as tears cascaded down her face only to be caught on his tweed jacket.

"I missed y-" The word got cut as a searing pain ribbed through her back, copper filling her mouth. Buffy turned to see Willow holding a blood-soaked knife.

"Welcome back." She smiled sweetly, the hard glare of blame and hatred in her eyes. Buffy went to speak but only blood came pouring from her lips.

Xander appeared from nowhere. "Well that's not a very friendly greeting is it, Buff?" And then he was pushing her backwards and she was falling. And as she collided with the hard ground, she screamed. "Dawn!"


*****


Dawn froze the second she heard her name called, but living on the hellmouth for so long had given her the reaction time of a trained professional. On instinct, she took off running. Live now, ask questions later.

“Dawn! Wait up!” The person said, grabbing her arm.

In Dawn’s terror–stricken state, the youthful, girlish voice sounded exactly like Glory, the hell-god. Beyond any type of coherent thought, Dawn was operating in pure survival mode. She automatically went into a fighting stance, also a benefit of living on the hellmouth, but more so from having a slayer for a sister.

Dawn screamed, and reversed the hold on her arm, expertly flipping the girl and slamming her into the pavement.

Had there been any passerby’s, they might have noticed the two females fighting-nothing abnormal about that in these parts. But what would have stopped them in their tracks was the unearthly scream that came from the taller one, followed by the strange green glow surrounding her like an aura.

However, no one was around, so the whole event went unnoticed. The girl Dawn had perceived to be a threat was unconscious, lying on the pavement. Her hair covered her face, masking her features.

Dawn took a cautious step back, warily eyeing the former threat. She had no idea what had just happened to her, her focus was completely on the unmoving form. She would have run, but something seemed familiar about her. She kneeled down, muscles tensing should the need to escape arise. She gently moved the girl’s hair from her face, revealing a young woman with features similar to Dawn’s own. They were slightly sharper, and hardened by life.

Her heavily-lined eyelids fluttered open, focusing on Dawn. Her lips, painted a color Dawn could only describe as “hooker red” twisted into something between a grimace and a smile. Dawn got the eerie feeling that the look was something she wore often, and didn’t have much to do with present circumstances. It…bothered her, for some reason. It was then that she realized just who she was looking at.

Dawn’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh my God…Janice?"


*****


"Buffy!" The ground was trembling. "Buffy!" Her name reverberated loudly in her ears causing the slayer to open her eyes.

Spike was next to her, his hand on her arms, shaking her awake. His blue eyes were large and timorous. She collected her surroundings with quick darted glances around their night-cloaked room as Spike released his grip on her, wiping his palms on the sheet. "You were having a nightmare." He informed her as if apologetic for shaking her. "Screaming and what not..." He trailed off, pausing for a moment before pressing her gently. "Do you remember it?"

The colors and pain still flashed vividly in her mind and Buffy nodded meekly, tears of fear and exhaustion falling from her green eyes. "It was in their faces. God, I can't go back. I can't. I can't. I can't..." She repeated as she cried, burying her head into Spike's shoulder.

And Spike with the tenderness of the ages held her, his thumb drawing lazy circles across her back. "It's alright, luv. It'll all be alright." Buffy held on to him, she didn't believe in transcending wounds. It was a lie told to a child, a fairytale to make the dark less black and the night less scary. He had forgotten they both knew the truth.


*****


"Oops." Dawn grimaced at her mistake as she knelt beside her former friend and classmate. "Janice?" She asked anxiously, trying to survey the damage.

Janice lay across the pavement, her skin ghastly pale and Dawn for a moment was sure she had killed her. Then she rolled to the side, hacking and coughing. "God, Summers." She groaned weakly opening her painted eyelids to look at her attacker. "High strung much?"

"Sorry." Dawn apologized as she helped Janice to her feet.

Janice stood with a defiant air about even though she had just been slammed to the ground. "If you do that again I will be forced to kick your ass." She rubbed her back, her bare midriff showing and small scars from the pavement bleeding. "I kicked Crystal Ginley's ass and I can surely kick yours."

"I was out sick that day, but I heard about it." Dawn bobbed her head, picking up her bag, reminiscing about the big sixth grade gossip.

Janice nodded in approval. "Got suspended for a week but it was worth it." She ran her eyes up and down Dawn, taking her measure. "You got taller."

"Yep, that's me, tall girl. Buffy is always griping about how unfair it is because you know she's so short and she can never reach the shelves and things..." Dawn rambled unnecessarily; Janice's direct appraising look was making her feel unsettled. Or maybe Janice herself was making her feel unsettled. Two years could definitely change a person, gone were the pink bubble gum tops and glitter belts. Instead replaced by a high-cut black midriff baring tee, hugging tightly across her chest and low-rise jeans so low that Dawn was sure they would slip off if Janice ever sat down.

"Well." Janice threw up her arms and smiled broadly. "It's so good to see you!" She squealed, hugging Dawn. And as Dawn half-heartedly returned the embrace her fingers became wet and sticky.

"Umm..." She spoke up as she pulled back her blood stained fingers and showed them to Janice. "I think you're bleeding."

Janice turned and twisted, checking her back. "Damn, Dawn! I just got these jeans. Oh no big. We can stop at my place and throw on one-, "she looked at her back again, grimacing.”Or a few bandages on and then go out and cruise the strand." She started to walk but then stopped. "Wait, I forgot. Are you guys staying around her? Do you need to run and tell big sis Buffy? Don't want her to wig. That is one chick I never want mad at me. She can kick some major ass!”

"Ummm..." Dawn faltered, unsure how much to confide in her old friend. "Should we call your mom first? Give her the heads up? No one likes unexpected company..." Janice smiled and chuckled.

"What?"

"You ran away!" Janice laughed.

"I did not! Buffy is at..."

"Oh please! ’No one likes unexpected company'? Could you come up with a lamer stall tactic?" Seeing Dawn's face fall, she rushed to comfort her. "Oh don't feel bad. I split from my mom over a year ago. That woman was nuts! Do you need a place to stay? It's not much but..."

Dawn could have kissed her, she was so grateful for a place to rest and the possibility of some food. She was exhausted mentally and physically and walked happily next to Janice. "Thank you."

"No big." Janice took Dawn's bag and hoisted on her shoulder. "First we'll stop at my place and drop your shit off and fix my back and then we will get a bite to eat. But stay close, you wouldn't believe the freaks out at night."

Dawn almost laughed. "Oh, you'd be surprised."


*****


Buffy was panicking. She knew it, and she knew Spike knew it. She couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop her heart’s frantic pace. She clung to Spike like a life-line, a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. She whimpered, afraid. "I'm so scared." She admitted voice shaking, hands tightening her grip on his hard body.

Fear was something she lived in almost constantly; her life had always seemed to revolve around it long before being called. There was always something out there threatening her world; her parent's fighting, being the new girl at school, Lisa, her arch-nemesis back in her ice skating days, there was always someone, something, to dethrone her and steal the life she had so carefully crafted. Fear was what pushed her, harder, faster, to be better because if she wasn't... it would all fall apart. And she would have to just be her. Slaying only cemented further in her mind how fragile her world was, how it hung on a perilously thin string, but it was her job not to show that, her job to stand on the tight-walk and play normal. Slayers didn't show fear, she was sure it was in the handbook, and the thought of Spike of all people seeing her so weak made her feel ashamed. Because now he could see her, not the Slayer, but just her, and that made her even more afraid. "It's not gonna be alright, Spike. It's not. It's not." She shook her head slightly, her brown short hair brushing against his shoulder.

“Buffy, shh, it’s alright, luv. I’m here. It was just a dream.” Spike said soothingly. He was relishing having her in his arms. He hated the tears streaming down her face but the fact she had turned to him, that she was letting him in... Just for the briefest moment, meant more than the world.

She had, for the moment anyways, forgotten he was naked, and that she was clinging to him. But Spike was only too aware of her current position, and how she smelled fresh, like soap, and how soft her hair was on his shoulder like a kitten's fur. The only thing separating their bodies was the thin shirt she wore. His shirt, he reminded himself proudly.

Buffy sniffled, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Spike…” She whispered, looking up into his eyes. “I just…I don’t know. I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can go back." As soon as the words left her mouth she wished she could stuff them back in her mouth and swallow them.

Spike pulled back just the slightest amount and titled his head to the side, examining her, really looking at her. Though the room was dark Buffy could feel his eyes burning into her and she quickly closed the space between them, settling herself back into his arms and burrowing her head into his shoulder.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked quietly, having gathered all of his courage to do so.

She wanted to blurt out the whole thing, how she didn't know anymore what it felt like not to be afraid, that more than anything she wanted to feel safe, to feel her world was secure and would not topple at the tiniest wind. She wanted to babble about how they were in her dream, her friends, and they stabbed her in the back, literally. And how part of her thought that might be fair, that might be just after running out on them. She wanted to explain how Spike scared her because everyday he made her life just a tiny bit easier and she didn't know what she what do when he left. Because that's what guys did, they left. They left her. But she couldn't say all that, she just couldn't, so instead she lied. "Glory."

Spike had to strain to hear her, even with his enhanced senses. Her voice had become so soft, hating the falsehood that spilled from her lips. “It’s okay now, pet. I’ll keep you…safe.” He added the last word on, not wanting her to know he thought of her as his.

And there it was, a vow that she almost believed. That she would believe if only she let herself. She lifted her head, their faces a mere breath apart. She breathed him in; he smelled of tobacco, whiskey, and leather, scents that always clung to him no matter how long he was away from drink or went without a smoke. Buffy liked that; there was comfort in constancy. "Promise?"

He cocked his head to the side, and brought a trembling hand to her face. If it was shaking because of how close she was or if it was shaking because he hadn't fed, he couldn't say. He stared at his hand for a moment, finding it foreign and oddly shaped as it caressed her cheek, fingers with chipped black nail polish gliding softly against her satin skin. She let the weight of her headrest in his palm with the slightest dip of her head. Her eyes shown emerald against her dark hair and he for a moment forgot what he knew. He let it slip from his mind that she was a slayer above all else, and that she didn't love him, couldn't love him. He let himself hope. "Forever, I swear to you, Buffy."

It was her name that did it, her most valued possession lost in fleeing Sunnydale. He didn't call her Summers, didn't call her Slayer, or Goldielocks, or a host of other nicknames. He called her Buffy. The world crashed in hard. What was she doing? Buffy pulled herself from his arms and up out of the bed, quickly creating distance. She moved to the dresser and clicked on the light, darkness falling away but the nightmare still lingering. Her mind raced around in circles repeatedly asking 'what the hell did she almost do?'

“We need to go shopping. My hair…I need clothes to match my hair. And, uh…food!! We need more food!!” She walked about the room frantically, gathering her clothes. She needed to get away, to think. Being so close to Spike turned her brain to mush, and she couldn’t think of anything but wrapping her hand around his massive length, and guiding him inside her. She shuddered, picturing him thrusting into her, while she wrapped her legs around his waist…God, what was wrong with her?! She didn't love him, scolded herself. Yet she couldn't just chalk up what had happened to carnal lust, there was always that side of them, dangerous heat. But what had happened was more than that... there was a connection. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go!” Buffy said a mite too cheerily. She looked at him expectantly. “Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"

Spike was staring at Buffy, his mouth hanging open. Didn’t she realize what she just did? She had jumped out of the bed suddenly, talking about shopping and what-not, then had preceded to get dressed…right in front of him! Off had come the shirt, her fingers nimbly working the buttons, slowly revealing tone and tanned flesh, leaving her in a pair of panties. He stared at her, taking in that beautiful body. High breasts, a flat stomach, and a hint of a shadow at the apex of her thighs…

“You…you’re dressed.” He said, by way of explanation and his mind went hazy. "I'm not here, am I?"

“What?” She asked annoyed, scrunching up her nose, his logic was jagged and hard to follow. She glanced around and catching sight of his shirt on the floor, understood. She had undressed in front of Spike. In her blind panic to put a clamp on those emotions that had started to bubble she had inadvertently given him a free peep show. Her ears flamed red and she could feel the fingers of a blush crawling up her neck. Fingers still wrapped tightly around his blue discarded shirt she let out a groan. "Oh, god." Her legs turned to jello as she sat slowly on the edge of the bed, replaying her hasty actions. "Oh, god." She repeated dumbly.

“Buffy…” Spike said, his voice filled with lust.

“I didn’t mean to…” Buffy trailed off, unable to meet his eyes. "Oh god!" She buried her head in her lap, the blue shirt cushioning her face.

Spike stood, towering over her, eyes fixing on her shoulder length brown locks that covered her face, at a loss for what to say. "It's not a big deal." He lied. The sheet was draped around his waist covering up what it could. "I mean here." He dropped the sheet, letting it fall away, revealing his delicious body. He didn't exactly relish Buffy being able to gawk at his hard on but he had to do something..."You can watch and then we're even."

Her eyes had jerked open as the sheet landed on her feet, it was just for a split second before she clamped them shut again, holding his shirt even tighter across her face, a girlish blush crawling up her ears and neck. "Oh my god, Spike! Would you stop that? Just go get dressed!"

"Not gonna take a gander?" Spike smirked at her reaction, noticing the pink tint to her ears. "Nothing to be ashamed of love, the body is a beautiful thing."

"Just get dressed!" Buffy commanded, eyes clamped shut, mind refusing to let go of the image of Spike naked.

Spike rolled his eyes and gathered his pants from where they lay across a chair. "Tell me more about this outing then." He shoved his second leg in, and the world lurched. Grabbing the chair back he gathered himself grateful that Buffy was still playing the blushing virgin and had missed his let slip.

"Outing?" She questioned, the sound muffled in his shirt.

"Yeah." He spoke as he walked towards her, zipping his fly and securing the top button. "You wanted to get clothes and food, something about matching your hair." He stopped in front of her. "Gonna need my shirt."

Opening her eyes slowly she kept her gaze low in case Spike was still in a 'I show you mine you show me yours' mood but seeing the familiar faded black denim she finally glanced upward and handed him his shirt. "Here."

Spike took it, his fingers accidentally brushing the back of her hand causing Buffy to shiver slightly. "So you're planning on going out. Why did I have to get dressed?"

"Huh? Wait. Aren't you coming?"

"Gonna be getting light out soon." He gestured with a nod of his head to the tightly closed drapes. "I can smell it."

"Okay. I'll take the car. You can rest." Buffy grabbed up the keys from where they rested on the dresser. "You look like hell anyway."

"Shouldn't point fingers, Summers."

Buffy glanced down out her outfit, dirty and wrinkled from wearing it for the past three days, she had to admit Spike had a point. "Well, I wouldn't have if you had let me stop at the apartment and pack! But oh no. We must leave right away. But it’s okay to pay for two nights here?!"

"Hey, if I remember right you weren't exactly clamoring to stop at home. Too freaked about bit run away. She gets that from you, I'll have you know." Spike pointed a finger in Buffy's direction

"Me? Are you even trying to make some coherent sense?"

"Well let’s look at your track record shall we?" Spike ticked off the numbers on his fingers. "First you split when you had to send Angel to hell, and next time could you try to make the hell trip a tad more permanent? Then again when after Joyce-"

"Hello? You were there too. And you thought it was a good idea! " Buffy's voice rose and her gripped tightened around the keys leaving imprints in her flesh. "I mean should I have just sat around and waited for Glory to have figured it out? Is that what you're saying? That I should have just stayed in Sunnydale and went along living my life and not care what might happen to Dawn?"

"Course not." Spike replied, sorry he had even brought it up.

"Cuz that would have been a lot simpler!" Buffy rambled on. "I mean, from my point of view I could already be back in school and Xander could come over for a vidfest and besides the usual end of the world thing I would have been happy!"

Spike wanted to jump on her for that happy comment, to ask her if she was happy with him... Well, not with him, but with Dawn and him, if she was happy with their little family but he knew better. So he stood waiting for her breathing to even before speaking. "Done?"

Taking a few more deep breaths Buffy calmed down. "Yeah."

"Good."

Jingling the keys she gave it one last shot. "Sure you don't want to come?"

"Dust really isn't my look."

"Okay. If you're sure... " She picked up and electric key and his wallet and slipped it into her purse. "We have insurance on the car right?"

Spike rolled his eyes with a groan. Buffy and cars didn't mix. "Alright. I'll come but you better not complain when your new clothes have to be dragged through the sewer."

Buffy smiled as she handed him the keys, the last thing she wanted to be was alone right now. "I won't say a word." She promised as she followed him into the hall.

"Somehow I think that is bloody unlikely. Okay." He stepped back. "Lead the way."





You must login (register) to review.