 |
|
main x fanfic x music videos x awards x live journal x links x about me |
|
* * * *
“Do we tell the others?” “No,” Buffy answered quickly. “No one. They… they’ll act weird around her, a-and it’s, it’s safer for everyone if they don’t know.” Giles moved to stand, but noticed a flicker of uncertainty flicker across Buffy’s features. “Is there something else?” he asked. Buffy turned away, feeling guilty. She couldn’t tell Giles about Spike. She was still too confused about what he really was, and how she was supposed to deal with the fact that she might not… She knew she had to protect Dawn, and the monk had told her that Spike was supposed to protect her as well, but was she supposed to let Spike back into her home, knowing that he was really evil? Besides, Giles wouldn’t want to learn that Buffy’s boyfriend was secretly evil, and she couldn’t stand the thought of it herself. “No,” she said after some hesitation. “I’m just… confused, I guess. A-About everything. I think I need sleep.” “Are you sure? This woman, we need to know what she wants with Dawn. If she comes for you…” “She’ll come,” Buffy replied. “But I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know that Dawn is the key. And tonight… I think I need some time alone.” Giles nodded and rose to his feet. “Alright. Just be careful.” She smiled and stood with him. “Thanks. I know this is a lot to unload on you, but…” “No, don’t even think of that,” he said, placing his glasses back on his face. “As the Slayer you are forced to shoulder many burdens. The least I can do for you is share them with you. Slayer-related or not,” he added. “You get some rest.” Buffy smiled and hugged him. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She watched as he walked out the door, and when it closed her strength melted away. Buffy paced the length of her house, quietly walking up and down the stairs and wandering through the rooms downstairs, chewing on her thumbnail and trying to call up her true feelings. She felt like she’d gotten some clarity with Dawn – she knew what she had to do, and sharing what she knew with Giles helped a lot. But Spike… she had to know. She grabbed her jacket and walked out the door. * * * * “Buffy,” said Spike in surprise. After she’d practically told him to shove off he hadn’t expected her to show up at his door. “Is everything okay? That demon woman, she didn’t…” Buffy shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.” Lie, lie, lie. She took in the cuts and bruises on his face and felt a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She’d just brushed him off back at the house, not even caring how hurt he was. “So you’re okay?” “Yeah. I came to see if you were okay, actually. You did kind of get thrown out a window.” Spike scoffed and waved a hand in front of his face. “’ve had worse.” She smiled guiltily and walked past him into the crypt. “I’m sorry,” she told him, unable to face him. Buffy was afraid of what she’d see if she did. Your hated enemy… Spike closed the door and walked over to her. “About what?” Buffy sighed with aggravation. He didn’t ask because he didn’t know, he asked because he wanted to hear her explain everything. “About how I acted after what happened at the house.” “Yeah,” said Spike, moving around her so that they were facing each other. She turned her eyes away. “What was that?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Hey,” he said, gently grabbing onto her chin and turning her head so that she met his eyes. “Look at me. What’s going on?” Blue eyes stared back at her. She searched them for lies, for hatred, for anything that would prove what the monk said was true… that he didn’t really love her. “You love me, right?” she asked on the verge of tears. “Of course I do,” he said with concern. “Buffy…” “A-and you don’t even have to think about it, because you feel it, right?” He stared back at her, utterly confused. “Well think about it. William…” she sniffed back tears. “Why do you love me?” “That has to be the most ridiculous question you’ve ever asked. And that’s saying something,” he said. “You know that I love you.” He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close, kissing her temple. “Yes,” she assented. “But why?” Spike’s eyes fell to her lips as his head lowered. “Because you make me feel like I’m alive.” He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck as their tongues met, and she could feel herself melting into him. How could this be a lie? The way his arms tenderly yet desperately moved up to her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. The way his lips moved as they kissed, making her forget everything but the feel of his body pressed against hers. Spike moved his hands between them and pulled at the front of her jacket. He groaned suddenly and pulled away. “What?” Buffy asked with alarm. He looked away as he pulled off his black button-up shirt. She watched in bewilderment until she saw what had been hiding beneath his long sleeves. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and jabbed into his left bicep was a rather large piece of glass. “I thought I’d gotten ‘em all out,” he said, frowning at the offensive object. “How could you miss that?” she asked in disbelief, her fingers carefully moving towards his arm. He winced as her fingertips met the tender flesh. “Sorry,” she apologized. Buffy grabbed on to the edge of the glass shard and yanked it out. Spike swore under his breath. “Sorry,” she repeated, examining the bloody piece of glass before tossing it onto the floor. Spike moved towards her and she couldn’t help but stare at his bare chest, which was beautiful despite the fact that it was covered in bruises. He wrapped a powerful arm around her and clutched onto the hair at the back of her head, pulling her forward into another passionate kiss. Buffy could feel his desire – it rivaled her own – but fear shot through her. She pulled away. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know if I…” she trailed off, unsure of what was holding her back. Everything inside of her was screaming to touch him, to feel him inside of her. She closed her eyes and pictured the first time they’d made love. It was raining outside, and he had been so gentle with her, understanding that he was taking her virginity. Ever since then he’d been less hesitant with his desire, his craving for her. Was that real? Have we ever really been together? “You can,” Spike said ardently, nodding his head with fervor. “I can, you can. We can.” Under any other circumstances she would’ve laughed at his desperation. But she had to know what was real. Buffy kissed him fiercely. “Make love to me,” she pleaded. He returned the kiss as he pealed off her jacket. “You don’t make any sense,” he murmured into her lips. “I love that.” * * * * Buffy breathed heavily and clutched the sheet to her chest. Deep breaths… deep breaths… Spike grinned as he rolled onto his side. He always did take her breath away. Buffy would laugh whenever he said that, saying that it wasn’t fair since he didn’t have any breath for her to steal. “I’d give it up in a heartbeat, luv,” he replied, kissing her shoulder. “You’d need one, first,” she joked. “I have to go.” Buffy pulled the sheet with her as she started gathering her clothes off of the floor, leaving Spike naked and confused on the bed. “Buffy, what’s wrong with you?” he asked genuinely. “You’re not telling me something.” He reached over and touched her shoulder, but Buffy cried and slapped his hand away. “No,” she protested, arms in the air in front of her. “I can’t… I can’t right now. I have to,” she gulped, “go. I have to… I have to…” In a rush she pulled on her shirt and her khakis. She didn’t bother putting her shoes on, she’d do that once she’d gotten far enough away. “Buffy,” he continued with more aggravation, rising from the bed. “It doesn’t really set well with me when you leave immediately after sex. Which, you haven’t ever done, as I recall.” “You would,” she muttered under breath. “I’m sorry?” “Nothing,” she replied, searching for her bra. They were over by the door when… ah, there it was. “Was it not good enough? I have to say on my end it was bloody fantastic, so you’ll have to understand why I’m confused.” “I can’t, Spike. Please.” Jacket. Keys are in the jacket. Find the jacket and go, find the jacket and go… “Did I hurt you? No, I couldn't have. Love, I don’t understand. You make love to me,” he touched her arm in an attempt to calm her but she shrieked and shied away. His face fell. “And then you can’t stand for me to touch you. Buffy, answer me! What’s wrong?” He grabbed her by both shoulders and she drew herself inward, closing her eyes and frowning miserably. “Spike,” she began weakly, then grunted in frustration and slapped his arms away. “Oh, forget the jacket!” With that she stormed out of crypt, slamming the door behind her. Spike stood alone in shock. What had he done? Buffy wiped stray tears from her eyes as she walked through the cemetery. It was wrong. Everything was all wrong. Kissing him had felt wonderful, and it wasn't totally unfamiliar, but being with him… she knew. She knew deep inside what it meant. It was their first time. So it was true, they weren’t lovers before the monks had decided to screw up her life by sending some key to her. What else had they changed? Did they make her mother sick? Buffy shook her head. No, she shouldn’t start thinking illogically. She had to keep a clear head. If everything the monk said was true, then… She stopped at the edge of the cemetery and leaned against a large obelisk that served as a headstone. If it was true, then she couldn’t trust him. Her shoulders shook and she placed her face in her hands as she wept.
|
