It had not been longer than an hour since Willow and Giles locked her up in the guest bedroom, but it already felt like an eternity. With each passing second, her sexual longing for Spike grew and she didn't know if she could take it much longer.
Groaning, she got up from the bed. She needed to see him. She needed to feel him. She needed that gratifying pain she would feel with Spike's cock sheathed deep within her core. She needed it. Badly. And nothing, not even her best friend guarding the door to Giles' guest room or the confines of these four walls, was going to stop her.
“This is silly,” she’d said to Willow as she and Xander shoved her into the room. She had cursed herself for being too tired and sore from all the sex-having with Spike to fight back.
“This is for your own good,” Willow had told her, waggling a finger at her like she were some insolent child.
Like hell it was for her own good. She was lusty-Buffy and she needed some Spike-penis relief, dammit!
And when she tried to convince Xander to let her go by jutting her bottom lip out as far as possible, and looking at him with her puppy dog eyes all while batting her eyelashes, he told her, “Trust me, Buffy. You'll thank us later.”
Oh, she thought not.
Fortunately, her friends didn't think things through and had forgotten about the window in the room. She'd went along with what they wanted, thinking they'd realize it wasn't a spell soon enough. But she was dying here! She was tired of playing Miss Nice Gal, waiting for her friends to see reason. She'd wasted so much possible Spike-having time as it was. She had no other choice but to sneak out through the window.
She hurriedly moved towards it. “Hah!” She pushed the window open as if she were a prisoner who hadn't seen the outside world for years. She stealthily climbed out of the window and ran around to the front of the apartment.
Carefully turning the knob so that it didn't make much noise, she opened the front door. The television set in the living area was on, murmuring softly. Giles had fallen asleep on watch with a paperback book resting on his chest. Spike was snoring on the couch, probably having been bored to sleep by Giles.
Buffy tiptoed to the back of the couch and poked Spike's thigh until he roused.
“What?” Spike murmured groggily, slapping her hand away, and she had to cover his mouth, glancing down the hall to see if Willow had heard them. When Spike opened his eyes and saw it was Buffy, he abruptly stood up. He gave her a questioning gaze, and she answered with a seductive smile.
Smirking, Spike moved towards Buffy. She took him by the hand and led him out into the courtyard.
The two immediately grabbed each other, lips crashing together in a heated kiss, like two lovers who had been separated for months.
“I missed you so bloody much,” Spike said in between kisses, hands roaming her body.
“Me too,” Buffy said when she pulled away for a breath. Without wasting any more time, she jumped on Spike. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him with a fervor she'd never felt before.
Spike staggered backwards and slammed against the side of the courtyard stairs. He spun them around, pinning Buffy between the cold, hard concrete and his tight body. One hand sought out every inch of flesh it could reach beneath her top, while the other settled on her ass, holding her to him.
Before he could lift her blouse off, both of them froze when magical energy ripped out of their bodies. Buffy stopped grinding against Spike and, eyebrows furrowed, asked him, “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah, I did,” Spike said, his face the same mask of bafflement as Buffy.
Loosening her grip around his neck and moving her hands to his chest, she pulled away slightly. “The mark on your forehead's gone.”
Spike touched his forehead. “Does this mean...”
Buffy gulped, fully aware of the position she was in and what they were about to do. “I-I think so.”
“Oh.” Disappointment was clear in Spike's voice. “Right.” He hesitantly removed the hand cupping Buffy's butt although he didn't want to. God, he didn't. Because contrary to what he had imagined a million times over, Buffy's butt wasn't too skinny or bony. It was firm, perfectly muscled. He'd never been an ass man, but Buffy's ass was too damn delectable. “I suppose you should get off me now, shouldn't you?”
“Yes,” Buffy said, quite reluctant and unsure. “That would be the logical thing to do.” Logic was the last thing on her mind, but she let him lower her legs anyway. It didn't matter what she wanted. It had never mattered.
Spike adjusted his crotch as Buffy righted her top, covering the patch of sun-kissed skin he'd never be able to touch again. He gazed at her and realized it was all he could ever do from now on. “And I should probably be off, then.” By the tone of his voice, it was clearly more of a question.
Buffy fixed her gaze to the ground. Every inch of her said no, but she said, “Yeah. You probably should,” as if it were a reflex, as if she were wired to always do what other people would want her to.
Spike made no move to leave for a few more moments, waiting for Buffy to take back what she'd said and beg him to stay. When a good minute had passed, Spike grimaced. He didn't need any more humiliation and rejection on top of Drusilla leaving him for a Chaos demon. With a frustrated sigh, Spike fled the apartment complex without saying a single word.
She lifted her eyes when she heard him sigh, just in time to see him disappear from view. She didn't want to admit to herself that it hurt her to see him leave. She wished it didn't, because it was wrong on so many levels. Inhaling deeply, she went back inside the apartment.
Giles woke up with a start at the sound of the door closing and saw Buffy emerge from the front door. “Buffy, how did you––”
“That's not important,” Buffy said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I'm sane Buffy again.” She sighed. “You don't have to worry about me having sexcapades with Spike any more.”
Giles winced at the word sexcapades and, adjusting his glasses and setting the book down on the coffee table, stood up. “I beg your pardon?”
“It's over,” Buffy said, plopping down on the couch with a huff. “Spike's gone.”
“He is, is he?”
“Hopefully, for good.” Buffy tried to sound indifferent, but the frown on her face betrayed her words. “Why does he come back here anyway when we clearly don't want him here and he clearly doesn't want to be here?” She paused, staring blankly at the coffee table, and then chuckled disdainfully. “He's an idiot, that's why.”
Seeing the obvious confusion in Buffy's expression, Giles pondered if he should tell her the one important detail he intentionally left out. Sitting beside her, he took a deep breath. It was best that he didn't say anything that would complicate things more. He put his hand over hers and asked, “Are you okay?”
“What?” Buffy said, forcing her voice to be incredulous. “Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?”
Giles moved his hand to his lap. “No, no reason at all.”
“I'm okay. In fact, I'm better than okay.” She was so unconvincing that she couldn't even convince herself. But she was okay. There was no reason for her not to be okay. Right?
Four days had passed since Spike left town. Everything had gone back to normal, as normal as the life of the chosen one could be. She tried not to think about Spike or the one day they'd shared, but it was harder than she thought it would be.
It was one day she would never forget.
He would cross her mind occasionally, and she would wonder where he was or if he had gotten back together with Harmony or Drusilla. She did her best to hide how she felt, although she wasn't exactly doing a great job.
They'd catch her staring off into nothing, day dreaming, not listening to anything they said but they didn't care.
“I better go,” Buffy said as she stood up. The news Giles had told her about a demon killing innocent people didn't distract her enough, and it certainly didn't help. But it was good that she had a job to do to take her mind off Spike. “I'll find this thing before it does any more damage than it already has.” Violence. Violence helped.
Giles frowned. Buffy was troubled and he felt guilty for withholding information he knew would help her. He sighed, knowing he had to tell her what he knew. “Buffy, can I talk to you for just a moment?” he asked as she was halfway out the door.
Buffy turned around and walked back into the living area. “Sure. What's up?”
“Please, have a seat.” Giles gestured at the couch.
“I need to sit down for this?” she asked with an anxious chuckle as she sat down at the couch. Giles forced a smile. She frowned; that had never been a good sign. “Giles, you're making me nervous.”
“There's something I need to tell you.”
“What about?” she asked warily.
“There's one very minor,” he adjusted his glasses, “detail I failed to mention to you about Luxuria.”
Buffy quirked a brow and leaned forward in interest. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“It's, uh... Luxuria's victims aren't random,” Giles said, and Buffy sat up. “It has been said that it chooses specific targets. It chooses two people. A pair.”
“Makes sense since it bit Spike and I at about the same time.”
“Yes, yes... But, uhm... The book states that Luxuria chooses those who already have an attraction, feelings for the other.”
Buffy squinted at him thoughtfully, mouth slightly parted, as she processed the new information. “Well... Duh,” she said and scoffed after a few seconds of silence. “Of course I have feelings for him. I-I mean, I hate him. Those are feelings, right? Not feelings like how you're making it sound to be, but still. Feelings. Very strong feelings. Very strong hateful feelings.”
“Buffy, I wouldn't think any less of you if it were true, and it certainly won't make you any less of the Slayer you are. Spike is a rather handsome... uhm... creature.”
“Giles!” Buffy shifted in her seat.
“And though he may be evil, i-it doesn't mean you can't be attracted to him.”
“But I'm not,” she said, almost whining. Giles gave her a doubtful look and her shoulders slumped. “Okay, I am. But it's only physical and I'll get over it.”
Giles nodded and when she looked away, he grimaced. He hoped she was right.
“So, can I go kill some demons now?”
“Yes.” Giles forced a smile.
“Great,” Buffy said and stood up, leaving Giles' apartment.
She went on to patrol and find the demon Giles had told her about. She marched around the cemetery, eager for some violence. Hearing footsteps behind her, she whirled around with her double bladed battle-ax raised. She jumped back in surprise and gasped when she saw who it was. “Spike! W-what are you still doing here?”
He stepped forward with his trademark smirk. “Well, I... I... Forgot something.”
Buffy rolled her eyes, ignoring the thumping of her heart. “I don't have time for this, Spike,” she said, and walked away. “If you're not going to do anything evil, just leave me alone.” Though she was purposely swaying her hips flirtatiously, she was not playing hard to get. She was... walking away because she hated him.
She glanced behind her, hoping that he would follow.
He did. “Hunting for some big bad?” he asked, gesturing at the battle-ax in her hand.
She cast a sideways glance at him when he caught up. “Yes.”
“I'll help you,” he said with a shrug.
Buffy stopped and folded her arms over her chest. “And why would you want to do that?”
“Come on, Slayer. What have you got to lose?”
Buffy forced herself not to swoon when he raised that sexy scarred eyebrow of his. She pretended to think about it – as if she actually had to think about being around Spike – while tapping her foot and eyeing him.
“Fine,” she said, dropping her arms at her sides. “Just stay out of my way.” She pointed the ax at him, and it was his turn to roll his blue eyes at her.
They strolled around the cemetery mostly in silence except every few seconds when Spike would give a heavy sigh. Buffy clenched her fists to try and keep her cool. If he was bored, why didn't he just go away?
At his tenth sigh, Buffy faced him, strangling an imaginary neck in her hand. “If you sigh one more time, I swear to God––”
“Look. Something's there.” He pointed at the barely lit part of the cemetery.
“Oh, thank God!” She rushed to the other side of the cemetery with Spike following closely behind her. Once they were close enough, they saw a big flesh-colored blob of a creature sucking a young man's insides out with one of its long tentacles.
“Hey you!” she shouted at the demon. It detached its long limb-slash-mouth from the man's body to face Buffy. She grimaced when she saw goo dripping from the teeth in its tentacles. They charged at each other.
The demon lashed a tentacle at her and she blocked it with the ax, chopping a part of it off. Buffy frowned when it grew back and took the ax from her hand. “Uh-oh,” she said as the demon coiled its tentacle around her waist. She struggled to release herself from its grip, punching and hitting the limb. The demon flung her across the cemetery and she hit a tombstone with a thump.
“Buffy!” Spike shouted and rushed towards her. One of the demon's tentacles caught him and threw him to the ground on his back.
Spike calling her by her name for what she recalled as the first time forced her out of her daze. Shaking her head and rubbing at the back of her neck to soothe it, she stood up.
Her eyes widened when she saw that Spike was about to be shish kebobed by the tip of the creature's spear-like limb. “Spike, look out!” She sprinted for him, tackled him and they fell to the ground with a dull thud. She quickly reached over to the ax only a few inches above Spike's head and hacked a tentacle off before hurling the ax at the demon's head. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the demon wail in pain and drop dead.
Spike propped himself up on his elbows. Buffy glanced down at him and their eyes met. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Buffy was fully aware that she was still straddling him, but she was too lost in his eyes to care.
Moments later, Spike broke the silence. “Uhm... Thanks,” he said and sat up.
Her cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah. Yeah... No problem,” she said and started to stand up. Spike's firm hand on her wrist pulled her back down on him, and she looked at him with expectancy. He waited for her to move away, to punch him on the nose, to slap him.
She didn't.
He clasped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her. She returned his hungry kiss with as much passion and desire.
When she finally gathered the strength to pull away, she said, “W-wait.” She raised a hand between them. “What does this mean?”
“I don't know.” He sighed. “But I do know that I want you,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I want you, Buffy. And I know you want me too. I can feel it.”
She swallowed, hard. “Okay.” She placed her hand over his, still looking into his blue eyes. “Okay,” she said and kissed the palm of his hand.
THE END