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She’s suffocating.


Alone in the darkness, trapped, terrified, she flails desperately within her prison. Bloodied fingernails tear at velvet soft walls. Clawing, ripping—her hands the only weapons at her disposal. Except—


I can move my feet. I can kick. Kicking will—not enough. Oh god, I can’t—This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. I can’t breathe. I can’t... Where am I? I can’t see!


Her heart pounds in her ears. Wave after wave of panic surges through her. She thinks maybe she’s drowning. This isn’t working. She has to get out. Unseen forces press in on all sides. Restraining her. Smothering her. Her blows are weak, hampered by her limited movement.


Cold. Why am I cold? What’s happening? How did I get here? I don’t—God, help me. Somebody please...


Her mouth opens in a silent scream. Stale, fetid air fills her lungs.


I have to get out. I need to breathe. I can’t—Help me!


Pounding fists. Thrashing legs. A creak. A crash. Pain radiates through her fingertips. Tiny slithers tearing into soft flesh.


Splinters. Wood. Oh God, it’s a coffin. I’m dead... I died... I—No! Please, no!


Her lungs are burning. Scalding tears scale down her cheeks. A hand breaches the confines of the damaged casket and damp soil streams against her face. She starts to choke.


Dig. Don’t stop. Keep going. Dig. Don’t stop. Keep going.


She repeats the mantra in her head. Abused fingers claw frantically at the musty earth bearing down upon her, resisting her progress inch by laborious inch. The pitch black of her surroundings switches to various shades of muddied browns. A vague light merges with the shadows. She has a direction—a slim source of hope to cling to in her desperation.


Dig. Don’t stop. Keep going. Dig. Don’t stop. Keep going.


One arm breaks the surface. She clutches the wet grass between her fingers. Gasping, choking, she surges forward. With both arms she hauls herself free and crawls away from the horror of her confinement.


Where am I? This is all wrong. I shouldn’t be here. Take me back. Please, just... take me back!


Wretched, sobbing, she lies on her back, staring at the tiny pinpricks that shine above. Everything is too loud here in this place of chaos. Her ragged breaths echo in her ears. Shrill sirens and screams fill the night air. The acrid smell of smoke invades her senses.


... So this is hell.




Spike’s eyes shot open as a pained whimper ripped him from his peaceful slumber. He knew he’d fallen asleep alone, and yet somehow Buffy was in his bed, tangled in his sheets, and in the grips of a nightmare so hellish that Spike had no doubt about its origins. Her heart was racing erratically, and he could smell the fear that surged throughout her body. Clearly she was under a severe amount of stress. Her face was fraught with turmoil and anguish, and her chest heaved as she fought to drag air into her panicked lungs.


“Buffy, love. Wake up!” Instinctively, Spike grasped her by the shoulders and held her down in a bid to still her thrashing limbs. “Buffy!” Her eyes snapped open, but sightlessly, they stared straight through him, still lost in the haunting spectre of her dream. Too terrified to make a sound, her lips parted in a soundless scream and a ghastly wheezing began in her chest.


“Come on, up you get.” Spike leaned back against the headboard, hauling her up until she was slumped between his legs. “Breathe with me, sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear. His hands slid under her ribcage, encouraging her inhalations as he mimicked the pattern behind her. “That’s it... and again... good girl.” After several agonising seconds, Buffy took up the rhythm on her own, as the final vestiges of her nightmare gave way to lucidity. “You’re okay, I’m here,” he said. “Spike’s got you now.”


“Spike...”


His arms wrapped around her waist, and he dropped a kiss to her hair. “Sshh... it’s okay. Let it out.”


“Oh god...” A tremor wracked Buffy’s tiny frame as she surrendered to her tears. Turning in Spike’s embrace, she buried her face against his chest and held on so tightly it was as if she wanted to crawl inside him. For endless minutes she stayed there, wrapped securely in his arms, until eventually her sobbing quietened and she pulled back to offer her vampire a watery smile. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That was... just, thank you.”


Spike cupped her face, and using his thumbs he rubbed the errant moisture from her cheeks. “Nothin’ to thank me for, pet” he replied. “I reckon we’re beyond that now, don’t you?” Concerned, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “No more tears, yeah? Seein’ you cry does funny things to a vamp, an’ my bad-ass reputation is buggered enough as it is.”


Sniffling, Buffy lowered her eyes to his chest, and immediately flushed an enchanting shade of pink when she noticed the mascara streaks marring his pale skin. “Oops,” she said sheepishly, as she reached out to brush her fingertips over the offending smudges.


Spike swallowed hard, certain he’d just felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his unbeating heart. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I'm washable.” Meeting her gaze, Spike’s eyes swam with concern as he studied her ashen features. “You okay, love?” he asked, before immediately giving himself a mental bollocking.


Stupid question, you git! Of course she’s not soddin’ alright!


Straight away, a blank mask fell over Buffy’s features. She shrugged noncommittally, and looked to the side, avoiding his all-too-knowing gaze. “I... I’m fi—”


Unimpressed, Spike caught her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “You don’t have to pretend around me, Buffy. It's just you an’ me now. You don't have to do this alone.” He smiled gently and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t try to shut me out, ‘cause I won’t bloody well allow it.”


“Spike—”


“Just let someone take care of you for a change, yeah?”


There was a long pause wherein Spike could practically hear Buffy’s mind working as she recalled the details of the nightmare. Reluctantly, she returned to her original position and pulled Spike’s arms around her waist as if hoping to shield herself from the truth. After a while she sighed in defeat and began to speak in a dull whisper. Her words, when they came, were of little surprise to the astute vampire.


“I thought I was in my coffin,” she said. “It’s always the same dream... One minute I’m safe, and the next... it’s pitch black and I can’t see, can’t breathe... can hardly move...” Buffy’s voice failed her, and she suppressed a sob as Spike’s hands slid up her arms and proceeded to massage the tension from the taut muscles of her back and shoulders.


Buffy loved this side of him—the side that no one else, barring Drusilla ever saw. That bitch must have been all kinds of crazy to give him up, she thought with no small degree of jealousy. Well tough luck, looney tune, he’s mine now. She moaned softly as Spike’s hands ran over her body, touching her with such gentle reverence that she couldn’t help but smile. It was a relief to let her guard down. To allow this measure of peace in an otherwise fraught situation.


Eventually, Spike slid his palms down Buffy’s arms. He entwined their fingers and rested their hands over the warm skin of her stomach. “I remember it well,” he said, stroking her wrists reassuringly. “Not the sort of thing a bloke can just forget... as much as he’d like to. Don’t get me wrong, love, I enjoy a good spot of pain as much as the next vamp, but that...” Spike shook away the thought when he noticed how quiet Buffy had become. “You know you're alright now, don't you, kitten? You’ve got me, an’ whatever happens I’ll be right by your side... It mightn’t mean much right now but—”


Buffy smiled and leaned back against his chest. “It does mean something, Spike,” she replied. “More than I...” Sighing, she snuggled closer. “I just want it to be over. I want to forget.”


Instinctively, Spike’s arms tightened around his fragile bundle. His angel was in his arms, loving him, trusting him to help her through the darkness... and he’d never felt so undeserving of that precious gift. Trembling, he dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry, love. I wish I could take away the nightmares, but I reckon this is one of those soddin’ cliché moments. It’ll get easier, I promise... but time’s the only cure.”


Buffy turned to face him, a patented Summers pout on her lips. “I know,” she replied, before offering him a weak smile. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”


Spike grinned. “Bloody adorable, you are.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. “You’re safe now, pet. I’ve got you. I won’t let anythin’ hurt you again.”


“I know I'm safe,” Buffy whispered. “I'm in your arms, and—” She blushed profusely as if suddenly remembering her position and the state of his undress. “...And in your bed.”


“Mmm... so you are.” A rakish grin curled his lips as Spike grasped Buffy by the waist and urged her to lie down beside him. “Not that I’m complainin’ or anythin’, but to what do I owe this pleasure? I distinctly remember fallin’ asleep without your luscious company. Just couldn’t keep away from my sexy bod, huh?”


Buffy raised an eyebrow, thankful for his attempt at lightening the mood. “Maybe I just wanted to return your coat,” she replied, eyes dancing, as a long forgotten memory floated to the surface. Her lips formed a smirk to rival his own as her hand plucked teasingly at the sheet that still covered his lower body. “Or maybe... I wanted to know if you were naked under there.”


Spike’s eyes travelled over her in a lazy caress. He smoothed his hands over Buffy’s hips, then released her long enough to flip the sheet back, revealing his jean covered legs. Amused, he watched Buffy’s cheeks flush again as her gaze fell on his unfastened top button before skimming over the growing evidence of his arousal.


“What’s all this then?” he asked, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. “Don’t tell me that after everythin’ we shared last night, you're gonna start blushin’ like a virgin at a hint of the goodies.”


His words only served to ratchet her embarrassment further. “Yeah, a-about that,” she muttered. “I kinda wanted to apologise. I didn't mean to turn into a raging ho-bag in your lap... especially after saying I wanted to wait.”


“Did you hear me complainin’?”


“Well... no, but still—”


“Trust me, kitten,” Spike said, rolling to his back and settling her against his chest. “Those memories came in real... handy, if you get my drift.”


“Spike?”


“Hmm?”


“You’re still a pig.”


“And don’t you forget it.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now tell me what happened with your mates. I’m surprised they don’t have you under lock an’ key.”


Nervously, she shifted against him as a deep sigh fell from her lips. “Let’s just say that phase one of Buffy’s bid for independence didn’t go quite as smoothly as I’d hoped.” She frowned and stretched her thigh over his knee, entangling their legs in the process. “After you left this morning, I took a bath... they were waiting for me when I came downstairs.”


“Waitin’ for you?”


“Yeah,” Buffy replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s this thing they do. Whenever I do something they don’t agree with, they spring an intervention on me and tell me how wrong I am.”


“You’re kiddin’ right?” Spike tone was equal parts contempt and disbelief.


“I wish I was,” Buffy whispered. “Anyway, things got pretty heated and I had to get out of there.”


Spike’s arms tightened protectively. “You should have woken me.”


“I couldn’t,” she replied. “You look so peaceful when you're asleep. I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.”


Spike’s brow furrowed in consideration. She'd watched him? He wasn’t sure what to think about that. Knowing she'd seen him without his defences in place made him feel exposed in a way he rarely experienced.


“So,” he said eager to change the subject, “should I be sleepin’ with one eye open just in case your flabby friend decides to get a bit stake-happy?”


Buffy smiled against his chest. “I made it clear that they’ll be in for a world of hurt if they come after you.”


“You think they’ll listen?”


“I don’t know,” she whispered. “They’re my best friends. I have to believe they will, because if they don’t...” Buffy was unable to finish that sentence. Agitated, she pulled away from his embrace and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I know I expected them to react this way, but still... it hurts, you know?”


Spike immediately missed the feel of her in his arms. Rolling onto his side, he propped his head on his fist. “You know, love... my offer still stands. ‘m sure I could find a demon to chow down on Harris... Course, the whelp’d probably give the poor git indigestion but it’d be worth it.” His comment earned him a small smile, and he moved so that he half-covered her with his body. “Buffy, listen to me,” he said, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Even if we have to take it day by day, hour by hour... hell, minute by soddin’ minute if needs be.”


“The things they said...”


“I can bloody well imagine.”


Buffy’s hand moved instinctively to touch his bare chest. “They think you have me under a thrall.” Her fingers travelled lower, fanning out over Spike’s abdomen. Teasingly, she grazed her nails against his defined muscles, delighting as he hissed in a breath and his abs clenched beneath her touch.


“Y-yeah?” he replied, swallowing audibly. Good one mate, could you sound like more of a ponce?


“Uh huh.” Buffy giggled. “They think I’ve been brainwashed so I’ll let you have your wicked way with me.”


Spike leaned closer, his eyes full of dark promises, and it was all Buffy could do to remember to breathe. “Is that so?”


“Mmm hmm…”


Gently, Spike’s hands brushed the veil of hair back from her face, his fingers tangling in the silken tresses as he ghosted his lips across her cheek. “I think it’s the other way round, love,” he said, nudging a knee between her legs. Needing no further encouragement, Buffy allowed him his rightful place between her thighs and he aligned their lower bodies, settling his weight upon her. “Bloody well bewitched me, you did.”


Closing the scant distance between them, Spike took her mouth in a searing kiss, hoping to convey his feelings of devotion and desire in the best way he knew how. To his delight, Buffy returned his attentions with unrestrained zeal, nipping at his bottom lip, claiming dominance with her tongue, until she was forced to pull away and gasp for air. Her face was flushed, her lips, parted and swollen, and Spike decided that the freshly-kissed look suited her, especially when he was the one doing the kissing.


“Mmm... Spike lips,” she whispered before dissolving into riotous laughter. “Lips of Spike!”


“Oh, you’re gonna get it, little girl.”


Buffy grinned. “And I bet you think you’re just the vamp to give it to me, huh?”


A low growl was her only response as Spike lunged forward, reclaiming her lips, and showing her in no uncertain terms that he was indeed the right man for the job. His touch was firm and confident, as his hands crept under her top, craving the warmth of her body. Determinedly, his fingers moved over her skin, painting invisible words of love and possession, until he reached the lacy trim of her bra.


A quick glance revealed the pleasure etched on her face, and Spike brushed his thumbs over the smooth fabric, revelling in the pleasure-filled sigh that painted the air as he brought Buffy’s nipples to rapt attention.


“Spike...” Her legs coiled around his waist as her fingers toyed with the surprisingly soft curls at the nape of his neck. “Spike, please...”


No one had ever said his name like that before, and a wave of thoroughly male pride swept through him as he continued to move against her. His erection, locked away behind denim and zip, and hard with the promise of what lay ahead, begged for freedom as he ground against her heated centre.


“God, Buffy... you feel so good. Touch me, kitten... I wanna feel those hot little hands on me. That’s it... don’t be shy.”


Being the proactive slayer that she was, Buffy didn’t need to be told twice, and her hands returned eagerly to his chest, impatient to explore the sculpted body that she’d denied herself for so long. She’d been a fool. She knew that now. But even as Buffy proceeded to trail soft kisses along his shoulder, learning the intimate taste of his skin, a nagging thought at the periphery of her consciousness was making its presence known. There was something she had to do... something that—


Oh!


In one fluid movement, Spike twisted above her, turning them so that she was straddling his body. He arched his neck back into the pillow, groaning loudly, as his hands grasped her hips, rocking her just there. “Need to see you,” he said, panting as he reached for the hem of her top. “Need to feel you pressed against me. ‘m gonna worship every golden inch of your skin, kitten. Can’t wait to taste you, feel you... Surroundin’ me— ah, fuck yes... squeezin’ me.”


“Oh God, Spike!” His words caused Buffy’s breath to hitch in her throat, and she wanted nothing more than to let him—to give her body over to Spike completely, and lose herself in his arms. But there was this thing... this thing she had to do... If she could only—


“You want that too don’t you, love?” Spike’s hands smoothed up her sides, bunching her top and sending shivers racing down her spine. “You want me to show you all the things those other wankers couldn’t.”


She nodded. Was there ever any doubt? Buffy’s hands covered his, guiding them to her breasts whilst simultaneously regretting the words she needed to say. “Spike, please.” She gasped as he tweaked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I have to... I need—”


“I’ve got what you need, baby.”


Baby? Okay, melting now...


Spike sat forward, bracing himself on one arm as the other wrapped around her waist. “Let me show you how good it can be,” he whispered behind her ear, before placing a kiss on the sensitive skin. His cool breath ghosted over her cheek as his lips journeyed along her collarbone, intent on lavishing attention on the swell of her breasts. “Slayer... Buffy, let me make love to you.”


Gah! This isn’t fair.


“Spike, I—Oh, feels so good... but we have to...”


Buffy was torn between the demands of her body and that annoying little voice, otherwise known as a conscience. She’d made some decisions whilst lying in the tub that morning. Her relationship with her friends wasn’t the only one that needed to change. Determined to turn over a new leaf, Buffy had resolved to clear the air with her sister. And so despite the overwhelming urge to tell her brain to go away and shut the hell up, she knew what had to be done.


Summoning the entirety of her self-restraint, Buffy reached down and cupped Spike’s cheeks, urging him upwards until she could sample the sinful delights of his mouth. “We have to... Oh, god,” She moaned and kissed him again. “I’m sorry... We have to... stop.”


Stop? Oh, buggerin’...


For several seconds Spike’s mouth hung open as his brain struggled to process the words he’d just heard. Had he pushed too far? Asked for too much, too soon? No, that couldn’t be it. Vamp senses never lied, and he knew for a fact that Buffy was enjoying herself as much as he was. He’d wager a week’s worth of fags and booze that her knickers were soaked with the evidence of her desire.


So what was it then?


“I’m sorry,” she repeated, upon seeing the confusion in his eyes. “I want this... believe me, I really, really want this, but I have to go.” She kissed him softly, hoping to diminish his uncertainty. “I want to catch Dawn as she leaves school. With everything that happened this morning I didn’t get the chance to talk to her properly, and there are things we need to...” Buffy sighed as her frustration mounted. “I don’t know if Will or Xander said anything to her, and I need to give her a heads up before she walks in on part two of a major scoobie hissy fit.”


Reluctantly, Spike nodded his acceptance and exhaled a shaky, albeit unnecessary, breath. “You’re right,” he said, resolutely ignoring his protesting demon. So yeah, maybe Buffy had a point, but the fact remained he’d be left with a serious case of blue-balls and only his left hand for company... again. “Snack size needs to know what’s goin’ on.”


Buffy smiled as she cocked her head to the side, unwittingly mimicking his pose. “I’ll make it up to you,” she said, meeting his gaze. “And when this happens, and I promise it will happen, none of this stuff is going to matter. It’ll just be me and you. Buffy and Spike... and it’ll be—”


“Bloody magnificent.”


She smiled. “Exactly.”


Spike feigned a put-upon sigh, and lifted her so that she was kneeling beside him. “You’d better run along then,” he said, winking as he returned to his usual cocky demeanour and trailed a hand down the length of his stomach. A smirk formed on his lips as he ran his tongue over his teeth, and with an exaggerated pout, he lay back on the bed. “Don’t you go worryin’ ‘bout me, kitten. I’ve got matters well... in hand.”


Spike’s eyes swept over her body, and Buffy was unable to tear her gaze from the temptation of that full bottom lip. Oh, no... Not the pout! she thought. Anything but that!


Helplessly, the Slayer grinned at his playful antics and reached down to ruffle his already mussed hair. “You know, as far as evil vampires go... you’re just too cute to be bad.”


“Oi!” Spike replied, insulted. “I’m not soddin’ cute! Dangerous, more like...”


Buffy laughed, once again casting her legs across his prone hips. “How about handsome?” she asked.


“Irresistible.”


“Hot?”


“Shaggable.”


Grinning, she leaned down to whisper against his lips. “Mine?”


“Yours.” His hands fisted in her hair, holding her in place as he plundered her mouth in a kiss that stole her breath away. “Completely... and utterly... yours.” Spike’s words rode out on a groan, as he bucked upwards, grinding his aching erection into the cradle of her warmth. “You’re a bloody tease, Summers,” he said, giving her arse a playful slap. “Now get out of here before I dig out the ‘cuffs, an’ show you just how bad I can be.”


A slow-born smile lit up Buffy’s face. “There are handcuffs?”


“Go!”




Chapter End Notes:
A/N Sorry for the delay, but this is one of my favourite chapters and I wanted to be really happy with it before posting. I hope it was worth the wait. Huge thanks to Dragonflylady for the beta job, even if she did accuse me of being a tease. *Whistles innocently*



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