Chapter 11
There were very few instances in his life when something had been so hard. Getting off of Buffy when she wanted him so desperately…when he wanted her… was one of the worst. The sweet fragrance of her musk lingered on his skin, and her tender touch was still making his nerves dance in need.
The verandah was his attempted refuge, but he still wasn’t alone. She was as close to him as when he laid skin-to-skin with her. Inside of his soul even and his hands shook when he tried to light his cigarette. The first flicker of his lighter was lost to the wind, and the second to a muttered curse. The third a success that brought the wanted burn to his body, but it didn’t stop the trembling caused by the ache he’d created for them both. Now left unsatisfied.
Spike couldn’t really explain it. Not even to himself. A voice inside had told him to, and for once in his existence he’d obeyed it. Plus there was the horrible fear that she would become lost in the sex between them and neither she nor their relationship would grow.
Once upon a time he only wanted her in the dark with him, and at any cost. Not now. Things had changed and he wanted all of her. And this time he wouldn’t let them tell him that he wasn’t good enough to be in the light, or that he was beneath them.
Inhaling deeply, his mind wandered back to the summer that Buffy was gone. When he’d fought the forces of darkness beside their little Scoobie gang, baby sat Dawn and hung out with them night after night, only to discover they were using him. Humoring him because they needed his strength and agility until they could bring Buffy back. It had taken people who cared, like Fred, that finally taught him that he really did matter.
That’s why this time, he wanted it all. The friendship, the sex, the whole fucking fairy tale with the crypt for two and all that rot. He wanted it for her, too. It wasn’t going to be like that if they continued the road they were on.
Buffy always fought him. No matter how sad, angry, or busy she was, her fists were there to tease him, love him, or put him in his place. And now he didn’t know what to do with the broken woman that was still in his bed. Of course, his plans didn’t work. They never did. Patience he knew though, and being love’s bitch. He threw his head back, closing his eyes, and trying to decide what his next move would be.
Methodically, he smoked his cigarette, watching the smoke dissipate into the night air, watching the bright cherry burn away at the stick, until there was nothing left. What excuse did he have? What could he tell her that wouldn’t hurt as much as his desertion? She lay quietly weeping where he’d left her, except that she’d curled onto her side. Her hands covered her face to keep him from witnessing the tears that were ravaging her beauty. For a moment he hesitated in the door watching her, hating every previous fantasy that he once indulged in that held this very scenario.
Sighing, he returned to the bed, sweeping the packages from its surface so that he could lie next to her. She pulled away as if his touch burned her.
“I’m sorry, Buffy.”
“Leave me alone,” she demanded, still refusing to look at him. “I can’t take this anymore. If you don’t want me then let me go…please.”
“I want you,” Spike said, rolling onto his back. “I want you with me, but I…don’t want to just be used by you again.”
His honesty hung in the air between them for a second or two while Buffy absorbed his words. Then she sat up, scurrying away from the bed to grab at clothes, pulling them on without heed to how they looked or if they were right side out. Frantically, she wiped at her face, sniffled then broke into sobbing again.
“I can’t change what I did before. I wish I could,” she said, between gulps of air that seemed forbidden to her. “I love you, and I want to love you, but you keep…it’s like you’re playing a game and I don’t know the rules.”
She held her hands out to him, but he ignored them as he continued to sit on the edge of the bed. Frozen and hopeful that maybe the real Buffy would return, but also desperately frightened that she would.
“Please, tell me what you want…,” she begged, then collapsed into a kneeling position on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her as she began to rock back and forth.
“You Buffy, I only want you,” Spike responded, rubbing his face with his hands. Only a heartless bastard could ignore the hurt emanating from the woman on the floor. He crawled to her, pulling her into his arms despite her feeble attempts to push him away. He rubbed her back in long, languorous motions to try and soothe her. “I don’t want you to live to please me, or to become lost in the sex so that you feel good, or…god, Buffy I just want you.”
“No, you don’t. You said so.”
Putting his fingers under her chin, he forced her to look at him. He found himself caught in the storm that raged in her eyes. Forcing himself to swallow back his own sadness, he wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I said I didn’t want to fuck you…not that I don’t want you. All I wanted was to hold you. Not…that.”
“Because you think that all I want is to fuck you? That I don’t love you…all of you.”
“I don’t think you know who I am.”
“You told me that before…but I believed in you then. And I do know that you’re a good man and I love you,” Buffy whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “I can know and love you, all of you, if you’ll give me the chance.”
Unconsciously her fingers touched his mark on her neck, caressing it softly, and he couldn’t resist. He nuzzled her fingers away so that he could suckle at the wound. Buffy shuddered under his ministrations, her body nestling close to his, and the air was once again filled with the scent of her arousal. And he wanted to push her away again when it tickled at his nostrils. Ignored was his own hardening cock that she could surely feel against her hip.
Ignoring his desire to flee, he wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face against her shoulder. This time she hugged him, too. Time passed in a sweet haze of love as they held one another. Nothing had been resolved, there were so many more things to say to one another, but he didn’t want to talk anymore. He just wanted her to hold him so that he could forget all of his own hurt.
It wouldn’t happen though. This time, if he wanted, he could drag her down into the darkness. She would be putty in his hands, willing to be toyed with as he chose, and she would never utter a refusal or protest. It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t who she was. This time they needed to make it back to the light together. He stood with her still in his arms, and laid her back on the bed.
He undressed her again, but she didn’t tease him like she had earlier. Instead, she lay watching with wariness back in her eyes. He knew how to break someone, how much to drink from someone to make them compliant to his desires, and he knew how to make a pet, but how to make her complete was something beyond his experience.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?” Buffy asked when he tucked the sheets around her.
“Not right now,” he said, sitting beside her. He tucked her hair behind her ear, and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Please know that I love you, Buffy…and I do want you with me…here…”
“Would you let me go if asked you?” Buffy asked, shrinking back from his touch even though it was her test.
He knew he should strike her for even asking, and remind her that she should already know the answer. It was wrong to question the rules. Yet, there was something in her eyes that showed how fearful she was that he would change his mind like the other men she once loved. There was a balance to be struck with his answer. He twined her hair around his fist, tugging gently until she had to follow the motion to keep from hurting. Then with his free hand he stroked the bite on her neck.
“No, Buffy, I will never let you go. You belong to me,” Spike said. “Because I didn’t say things right earlier, I’ll allow you this slip, but don’t ask me again.” He tugged on her hair to make sure she was paying attention. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
Her voice trembled, but he could also see the relief in her expression. She smiled softly at him as he released her, then rolled onto her side, and snuggled down into the pillows. She reminded him of a trusting child; the questions she asked him with her heart open wide, despite the consequences she could receive. He suspected it was a side of her that she didn’t show to other people, not her friends or family, and certainly not that imbecile she was going to marry. It was with him that she could put her guard down, good or bad, and he appreciated that trust.
“Stay here,” Spike instructed, kissing her cheek. “I have to go out for a little while, okay?”
“What if I need you?” Buffy asked, her eyes opening wide in panic. “Where are you going?”
He couldn’t help but to chuckle. “There’s some stakes and weapons in the chest at the foot of the bed. And as for me, I’m going to go and do some patrolling.”
“Oh,” she muttered, chewing her bottom lip. “Do you want me to go with you? I can if you want me to.”
“No, pet,” Spike responded, standing up. “If you want to go that’s fine, but otherwise I’ve been taking care of this town for awhile without you, so I think I can manage tonight, too.”
“Okay.”
It was evident that she didn’t want to, and he wasn’t going to push her yet. One day she would need to find that part of herself again, but not this day. Spike moved to the chest, pulling out some stakes for himself and one for her, plus an axe so she would feel safe.
Days had passed since he’d been out prowling. He needed this and the adrenaline was pumping through his system in anticipation of being away from the house. Knowing that part of her dread was that she wasn’t familiar with the house or the surrounding area, he turned to pull her cell phone from the dresser. He turned it on, and then tossed it on the bed. She stared at it for a moment before turning to look back at him.
“If you need me, call,” Spike explained. “I already programmed my number into it. It’s under Sexy Spike,” he added with a wink.
“No, no,” Buffy whimpered, snatching up the phone and turning it off.
It was his turn to stare at her. He tilted his head as he watched the panic cross her face before she shook it free.
“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted your phone so bad,” he barked. “Don’t you? Don’t you want the chance for me to leave so you can call for a rescue?”
“You said…but I thought you wanted me to stay,” Buffy stammered. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Why would you give me the phone?”
“Why would you turn it off?”
She turned her head away, refusing to answer him. Something was up. He was confused by her actions and there was only one way to get the answer from her. In a flash, he jumped on the bed, pinning her down while he switched to his vamp face. Ignoring her whimpers of fear, he growled down at her, his weight holding her still.
“I asked you why would you turn it off? Answer me, Buffy.”
“You told me that I couldn’t use it,” she stalled. “You’ve been keeping me here…telling me that I can’t contact anyone or leave. I was scared that you were using it as a test.”
“I already know I have you,” Spike snapped. “You took me at my word. Look around, woman, the phone was there in the dresser, there’s a computer with internet in the living room, and I leave the keys in the car. You could have left any time my back was turned because hello, vampire and sun don’t mix. Why haven’t you tried? Why did you turn the phone off?”
“Because…”
“Damn it, Buffy,” Spike cursed, pulling her hands over her head and pinning them against the pillow. She still wasn’t fighting back, even though this was the most spirit she’d shown since being there. “Tell me.”
“Because I don’t want to leave,” Buffy cried. “There’s a tracking device in the phone and I don’t want them to find me…I don’t want that life anymore…god, I just want to be left alone, but I can’t even fucking die to have peace.”
“You have it here,” Spike said, releasing her. “I promise that no one will find you as long as you are with me.”
to be continued…
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