DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX , Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs not mine.
Climbing down the ladder into Spike's crypt, Buffy hears the sound of the shower running. Spike's baritone voice belts out a song. "The way your smile just beams, the way you sing off key, the way you haunt my dreams." She hears a small bang and then a colorful curse. "Bollocks. Bloody slippery soap," he grumbles. He continues singing, "no, no, they can't take that away from me..."
Buffy sits down on his bed, waiting. The sound of the water stops. Out strolls wet, naked Spike, rubbing his head with a towel. "We may never, never meet again," he sings, and then stopped abruptly as he sees her. His face sets into a stony expression. ”Well, well. Hello there, Slayer." Throwing out his arms, he strikes a pose for her. "This is the dress code, love, so strip down or sod off, " says Spike sarcastically.
Buffy surprises them both by standing up and stripping off her clothes. She lies back down on the bed, never breaking eye contact. Spike's body reacts instantly. He can smell her hair, the delicate scent of her skin, and her arousal. Tossing the towel aside, he goes to her.
Pulling her into his arms, Spike kisses her gently on the forehead. Slowly and deliberately, he leaves tiny kisses all over her face and neck. She scratches at his shoulders, making low murmuring noises in her throat. Catching her lower lip in his teeth, he bites down gently. Sliding down her body, he licks her nipples, feather light and then harder. When she begins moving in earnest underneath him, trying vainly to pull his mouth up to hers, he stops.
He pulls her close, until they are face to face. They stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Gently, he brushes back her hair from her brow. "There is no way in hell I am going to fuck you ever again," he says, in the coldest, hardest voice she has ever heard. Buffy pushes at him to let her up, but he won't move.
"We spent the night together, doing incredibly erotic things to one another. I felt you come all around me, saw it, tasted it. I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I saw the spark of love in your eyes. I sensed the softness when you looked at me. I knew your heart was opening up when you held me in your arms." Spike stares at her, pinning her with his gaze. "Next morning, you look at me like I'm some kind of whore and your eyes are full of shame and guilt." Abruptly, he pushes off of her.
Agitated, he paces around the room. "You hurt me, Buffy. I was willing to let it go because we both said some pretty stupid things the morning after we made love. Maybe the sex was too intense; maybe we let too many walls down between us. But the last straw was going to check on Dawn and bouncing off the sodding deinvite barrier, then looking up and seeing that you had festooned your bloody window with GARLIC!"
Desperate for something to do other than bludgeon her, Spike picks up a pillar candle and smashes it into the wall. Tiny chunks of wax rain down. "Do you remember what I told you when we were looking for Dawn? I meant it. Only now you've got me so incredibly brassed off, I can't even look at you without wanting to harm you."
He looks at Buffy, still lying on his bed. Her face is perfectly blank, like nothing he had said means anything to her at all.
"I don't just want to bite you, Slayer. I want to drain you. I want you to not exist. I want to not have to see you ever again, because you have made a mockery of me. You have stomped the hope out of me. You gave me everything I ever wanted and then ripped it away."
Grabbing an ashtray from a side table, he whips it into the wall.
"You're dead to me. Out of my grasp once again. Except I don't have Dawn to love this time. I can't go tend to her and be there for her. You've taken that away from me too. You've taken every scrap of love that I had and destroyed it."
Spike looks around, searching for something else to smash. Lost in anger, he vamps. "It's been a good while since I was homicidal. But this is really familiar. Yeah, this is what it feels like. Bloodlust," he hisses through his fangs.
Buffy walks over to him. Spike puts up a warning hand. "I mean it. I can't control myself now. Get the hell away." She reaches him, and slips an arm around his waist. Locking her shoulders in his powerful grip, he bites into her neck, making guttural noises as he begins to feed.
Buffy is floating in a calm, tranquil ocean. Clear blue water surrounds her. Lapping at her in waves, it relaxes her more with each roll. She is cocooned in warmth. The waves come faster as the water grows colder. A giant wave is coming, bearing down on her.
She snaps back to reality as an intense orgasm rolls over her. It seems to seize her entire body, compressing every muscle she possesses and blowing all thoughts but one out of her head. I- need- Spike.
She must have said it aloud, because she feels his fangs retract from her neck as he drops her onto his bed. Her eyes open in time to see him descend, his beautiful human face suffused with love and lust.
Spike flips her onto her stomach, driving into her from behind. "I can't bear it," he whispers. "I can't look into your lying eyes." His arms wrap around her ribcage, squeezing her tightly as he moved inside her at a furious pace. "You're a beautiful liar," he hissed. "Those precious deceits spilling from your eyes, telling things that masquerade as truth so well." One of his hands wanders down to her clit, pinching it and sending her over the edge again. Her head lolls back onto his chest as she shakes with pleasure.
"I want to see you," she whispers huskily. "Let me see you." He pulls out of her and whips her around, driving into her once again. Pumping into her fiercely, he grasps her hips in a tight hold. Reaching up, she puts her hands on his shoulders. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are tightly shut.
"Look at me," she says. He doesn't respond, just pumps harder inside her. Buffy leans forward and bites his nipple, rolling it between her teeth. His pace increases even more, and she knows he is going to come. His eyes are still closed.
"Look at me, " she hisses. He won't do it, just keeps stroking inside her, working toward his release. She clenches every single one of her Slayer muscles tight around him. He gasps, and his eyes popping open as he comes. Spike moans, pulling her up to him as he rides out his orgasm. She pushes him over and lies on top of him, still joined together.
Spike lies on his back, looking very relaxed and extremely confused. "What the hell were you thinking, goading me on and letting me bite you? I could have killed you. But I never felt that I had drained you. I don't really understand." He tips her neck to the side and looks. Small faint red marks are the only sign of what had occurred.
"I know you'd never hurt me," says Buffy. "I trust you."
"Trust me? You had the deinvite done on your house. Then you didn't come round for a week. What the hell kind of impression do you think that made?" he asks.
Buffy runs her fingers through his hair, kissing him softly on the lips. "I was afraid that I was falling for you. I was afraid that if I saw you I would tell you, so I couldn't be near you."
Spike looks up at her, smiling. "But I knew already, love. I felt it when we made love. I knew it. I could feel it in my bones. But you-"His expression dims. "But you made a lie of that. How was I supposed to know what was real and what was lies?"
"I'm sorry," says Buffy. "I was hurting and I didn't know how to deal with it. I was hurting so badly, and I was afraid to hurt even more." She rolls next to him in the bed, putting her head on his shoulder. Grabbing his hand, she interlaces their fingers. "All the big crazy nookie action, and we have never even held hands, " she says with a smile.
"We did when we were under Willow's engagement spell," says Spike. "I loved the warmth of your tiny little hands." Spike kisses her knuckles gently. "I hated her for that," he says, rolling onto his side. "It was like getting this amazing gift. Feeling your love. It cloaked me, protected me, and made everything seem so happy and right. Then poof, it was gone, and you hated me. It hurt, really hurt. I don't think it ever stopped hurting, the loss of your love." She traces lazy spirals all over his chest, loving the freedom to touch him.
"You have it back. You have it for real, because it's not a spell, this time," says Buffy. She draws her finger down his cheekbone. "It can't be broken. It won't ever, ever end."
He rolls on top of her. "You're mine?" he asks.
"Cross your heart?" he says, tilting his head at her.
Buffy makes a little cross gesture over her heart. "Hope to die." They both frown. "Well," said Buffy," already took care of the death part. Don't want to do it again any time soon."
"Better not," growls Spike. They kiss deeply, savoring the sensation of being together.
"I came here with a proposition for you," says Buffy. "Right now, Slayer," he says, "I'm going to make you come. Then you can proposition me as much as you like." He pulls her to him again, frantic with the need to claim her as his own. For the first time, they really make love. Free of subterfuge and fear, they give the best of themselves to each other.
Spike pulls into the driveway of the Summers home. Slamming the door of the Desoto shut, he strides up the sidewalk carrying a box of candy. Dawn pulls the door open, sticking her head out. "You're here! I thought I heard your car." Spying the candy, she asks, "Is that for me or for Buffy?"
"For you, little bit," he says with a smile. She takes the candy and kisses his cheek.
"Surprise!" yells Buffy, as she pelts him with confetti.
"Surprise," says Dawn, joining in the fun.
Spike laughs. Hanging over the stairs is a little banner that reads: "Welcome Home, Spike!"
Buffy and Dawn hug him. Trapped between the two women he loves, he closes his eyes in contentment, savoring the moment. "We made you spicy wings and bought you beer!” says Dawn cheerily. “Come on in the dining room!" She drags Spike through the living room, with Buffy following closely behind.
The three of them sit down at the table. A platter of wings, a pizza, sodas and a beer sit on the table. A small gift-wrapped box sits there also.
"Open it," said Buffy Spike opens the gift. Inside the box is a little plastic key chain. It holds a portrait of Dawn on one side and Buffy on the other. On the chain is a key to the house.
"Thank you," says Spike, genuinely touched. He pulls Buffy's present out of his duster pocket.
Opening the small slim box, she reveals a tiny, feminine gold wristwatch. Buffy smiles at Spike, pleased with the gift. "Read the inscription, " he says.
Buffy flips over the watch. It is engraved with "B- It's about time- S." Spike takes it from her, slipping it on her wrist. They share a private look.
"Buffy already tossed out half the junk you dropped off in the U-Haul," says Dawn, picking through the box of chocolates.
Spike looks at the sisters, a grin on his face. "Looks like I got everything I need right here."
The sound of their laughter spills all through the house.
Continued in Part 2: Reality Check