Spike paced the confines of his crypt restlessly, treading the well worn path he’d made over the course of the day.
The previous nights events kept replaying endlessly in his mind, not even a bottle of scotch had kept them at bay.
They’d kissed. Him and the slayer. Him and Buffy. They’d kissed. They’d really kissed. It had been all Gone with the Wind like, with the rising music and the rising... music. What had that been about?
He knew what it was for him, it was a touch of heaven, a taste of what she’d been torn from and what he’d never know. Heaven. Perfection. His dream and his fantasy rolled into one.
That’s what it had been for him. But what had it been for her?
She’d kissed him. And she’d kissed him with more passion and intensity then he had ever known, but then she’d run away (as she was so fond of doing) and left him in the dark. The real kicker, the real sting, was what she’d sung before she’d kissed him. He’d been too caught up in the moment to notice it at the time, too lost in the taste and the feel of her, but now he couldn’t forget it. It played in his head incessantly, a constant torment. ‘This isn’t real, but I just want to feel...’
Was that all it was to her? A way of making herself feel something?
Night had fallen over an hour ago. Spike longed to go to her, talk to her, but she hadn’t come to him. She hadn’t sought him out the way she had almost every other night since she’d been back. She was trying to avoid him, and it hurt like hell.
Spike was not known for his patience, but he felt that waiting an hour had been patient enough. He had to see her. Whether she wanted it or not.
He swung his duster round his shoulders, but was stopped mid motion by a knock on the door.
His first thought was Buffy. But that was stupid. She never knocked. She either kicked or barged or stomped her way in, with no regard for his privacy or space. Not that he minded of course. He wouldn’t have cared if she smashed through the door with a tank as long as she came.
He extended his senses. He felt a jolt of shock at the familiar, and yet unfamiliar, presence. Not her. No, not his slayer. Someone else. But it couldn’t be who he thought it was. It couldn’t. Could it?
In what felt like slow motion he walked to the door and pulled it open. She was standing there, pale and beautiful in the moonlight. She spoke, and it was as though he had been transported back in time.
“Hello Spike.”
He tried to force his vocal cords to respond, to form some coherent words, but he could only manage one, one which came out in a husky exhalation.
“Kat”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry, really not so great with the summaries!
I know this story will go against the grain for some readers, but hopefully if you give it a try you won't be too disappointed. I love my happy endings after all :)
This won't be massively long, but I'm working on another story at the same time, so there might be a slight delay between postings. Plan to have it done within the week though. Hope you enjoy! I love reviews :)
I know this story will go against the grain for some readers, but hopefully if you give it a try you won't be too disappointed. I love my happy endings after all :)
This won't be massively long, but I'm working on another story at the same time, so there might be a slight delay between postings. Plan to have it done within the week though. Hope you enjoy! I love reviews :)