SPOILERS: Season 6 through "Once More With Feeling." Veers happily off into Denialville after that.
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.
DEDICATION: This one goes out to all the people who wanted to smack Dawn when she broke in on Spike's "So one of us is living" moment during the musical.
BETAS: Much thanks to the beta-tastic efforts of Colleen, Chen, and Green Luv.
AUTHOR"S NOTE: Some lyrics lifted straight out of Joss Whedon's brilliant "Once More With Feeling", and used without permission. I heart Joss.
SPECIAL NOTE: This story was done for We Invented The Remix. Therefore, it is my interpretation of the work of another author, done with their consent. Thanks to Alexia Eve for being game for the Remix- it takes a whole lotta stones. Her story, "Masochistic Tendencies", may be found at http://www.innergeekdom.net/Fic/Masochism.htm
DISTRIBUTION: Let me know if you want it.
FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to firstname.lastname@example.org
A firm hand grabbed my arm and I stopped abruptly. "Life's not a song," Spike sang, his voice deep and low. "Life isn't bliss. Life is just this; it's living." He stared at me as if wanting to burn the words into my brain. "You'll get along-"
I felt the anger bubbling up inside me, spilling out. "Let me rest in peace," I sang angrily. "Let me get some sleep. Let me take my love and bury it-" I stopped, realizing what I'd revealed to Spike- and everyone else in the room.
Spike's eyes widened, his hand closing tighter around mine. "Buffy?"
Oh, damn. I opened my mouth to deny it. "There's a traitor here beneath my breast," I sang, looking earnestly into his eyes. "And I love you more with every breath." He pulled me close to him and his mouth covered mine. I felt safe and warm in his embrace, and I wanted to stay there forever.
"I think it's kind of sweet," Tara trilled, her voice a sweet soprano.
"I think its pretty neat," Dawn chimed in.
"There's always been this latent heat," Anya sang.
"We have a demon to defeat!" Giles interjected.
Oh, damn. I broke apart the kiss. "The music's over, Sweet," I sang.
Spike was a truly amazing kisser. The day after the musical extravaganza came to an end, our kiss seemed to be the only thing I could think about. The memory popped into my head at the most inconvenient times, like when Tara was explaining how to make her kick ass banana bread or Dawn wanted to know who fought in the Crimean War.
Finally the house was quiet, with Dawn in bed and Willow and Tara already asleep. I folded the dishcloth carefully and draped it over the faucet, the sink empty and sparkling. I knew I should go to bed, but I couldn't unwind. I just kept thinking of Spike's arms around me and the sweetness and intensity of the kiss we had shared. It had been a happily ever after kiss, except that wasn't in the cards for us. It never could be; he was a vampire, and I was the Slayer. I didn't need Giles to sit me down and draw a diagram on why this could never happen- although that hadn't stopped him from spending the morning doing just that. I'd received a concerned phone call from Angel, which was horrible on multiple levels. Xander had made me a necklace made of stringed garlic cloves.
I stretched out on the couch and turned on the television, surfing until I settled on Space Ghost. It was funny, and I should have been laughing, but I was still thinking of Spike. It was tangible, the feeling in the pit of my stomach… and suddenly I realized why. I strode to the front door and ripped it open.
Spike looked up at me in surprise. He was pacing at the foot of the stairs, his duster swishing back and forth. In his hands he held a large box, tied with a shiny bow. "Good evening," he said, his voice a little higher than normal. He shifted his weight from side to side. "I brought you a box of candy," he said shyly.
"Since when are you Forrest Gump?" I replied.
He tilted his head, and I realized he had no clue what I was talking about. "Why are you here?"
"I wanted to see you. Thought you might want to take in a show or-."
"You're asking me on a date?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah," he said. "I mean, isn't that what people in love do?"
"Last night was a spell," I reminded him. "Singing, dancing, not really real. Just a spell. It was just evil demony stuff."
"You thought our kiss was evil demony stuff?" he replied, hurt.
"Our kiss was a mistake," I replied.
He looked down at the box of chocolates as if it held the answer he was looking for. "You said you loved me," he said finally. He looked up at me, his face tight. "I thought it was the truth." He looked so sad, and I felt guilty.
"I do love you," I admitted. "But I never would have said anything. The singathon was beyond my control."
He looked at me with such intensity, and I could feel it in my stomach, between my legs. It was raw need, and I felt it too. I felt the same pull he did. "So you love me, and I love you, and we're just going to pretend that we feel differently?" he asked.
This was the most painful conversation I'd had today- and that was saying something. " I love you, because you're my friend," I said firmly. "You've been there for me since I got back, and you've covered my back, and you saved my life last night. If it weren't for you, I would be a little ashy pile. So thank you."
"This is bollocks," he said. "What you sang last night, that wasn't about friendship. It was passionate, romantic love. Why are you trying to cover that up?"
"That's your interpretation, Spike. It was a spelly thing," I answered, waving my hands in the air. "Spells aren't real. Just forget about it."
Spike walked up the stairs to me, the box held in front of him like an offering. He stood on the second step now, and he was looking right into my eyes. He was so close to me, and I could feel my heart beating faster, my mouth going dry.
"So you look at me now," he said, reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, "and you don't feel anything more than friendship."
"Right," I lied, as his fingers trailed along my neck, making me shiver.
"I don't believe you," he said slowly, his voice low and intimate. "I think you look at me, and you think about what I would feel like inside you."
A tiny little gasp blurted out of my mouth before I could hold it back, and he smirked, his eyes firing with amusement. "You're so wrong," I said, my face flooding with color.
He leaned in close and covered my mouth with his. Oh my God, it was good. It was just as intense as last night only harder, wetter. His tongue probed every corner of my mouth. I moved to pull him closer, and something poked me in the chest. I broke the kiss and saw that it was the box of candy. I looked up at Spike, and he was panting, his eyes full of heat and desire. He wanted me, and I really wanted him. My body was screaming for sex, hot sweaty sex, now. To buy a few minutes to collect my wits, I grabbed the box and sat down.
I took the lid off the box and stared at the chocolates as if all the secrets of the universe could be found inside. "Oh, it's a sampler. Nuts, nougats, and creams," I babbled. My voice sounded strange. "And here's a little diagram. It shows you what's inside each one. Ooh, there's raspberry creams. I love those." I picked up the chocolate and stuffed it in my mouth. Chewing seemed to take a lot more effort than usual. I concentrated on the sweetness in my mouth, and tried to ignore the vampire that sat down next to me.
"Look at me, Buffy," he said softly.
"It's kind of an interesting concept," I rambled. "Candygram with vampire delivery. Vamp-o-gram. You could copyright that. You know, lots of women, they'd be happy to open their door, see a very hot guy standing there with chocolate. Kind of a twofer, you know."
"Ladies do love a treat, " Spike whispered, and he began to kiss my neck. It took all I had not to shiver.
"I really love chocolate," I babbled. "And this, this is the good kind. Like, my mom used to buy me this kind for Valentine's, cause she said I was her funny valentine."
"Would you like to be my Valentine?" he purred.
"It's too late," I pointed out. "It's, like, November. I think?" I couldn't remember what month it was. I couldn't focus on anything beyond Spike's wet tongue, circling my ear.
"Buffy," he said, and I did shiver then. He made a grumbling noise low in his throat, and then I felt his teeth, scraping over the bite scar on my neck. Vampire, biting, neck. Oh, very bad. I scooted back, leaving Spike blinking at me, looking confused.
"Do you want one?" I asked, leaning over the box. "You should have some. They're very nice."
"I'll take anything you want to give me." Spike scooted next to me and smiled at me, his eyes shining.
My hand was shaking as I picked up a candy and offered it to him. He put his finger around my wrist and guided my hand to his mouth. It should have been gross, but it so wasn't. The way he was looking at me, the way he sucked on my fingers made me hot, and he knew it.
Spike cupped his other hand over my breast, his thumb circled around my nipple. The feeling of it combined with the sucking on my fingers was just too much. I closed my eyes, the breath escaping my mouth in a soft moan.
In a split second, I was on my back. I felt the candy box crunch underneath my shoulders, dozens of candies smashing as Spike rolled on top of me. He was kissing me frantically, hungrily, and I was kissing him right back. My body melted with heat, the juncture between my legs burning with arousal. As if he knew, he rubbed against me, and I could feel his stiff cock grinding against me, as if seeking the way inside me through two layers of clothing. He was moving on me in an unmistakable rhythm, and my resolve fled. I slid my hand into the back of his jeans, my hand pressing him against me harder.
It was as intense and startling as the best sex I'd ever had. I felt myself arching harder and harder against him, the tension in me building. I was going to come, right there, right then. I moved my mouth away from his, fighting for breath as I exploded with orgasm, my peal of release so loud in the silence. It shocked me back to the reality of where I was: sprawled out on my well lit front porch grinding against a vampire.
Horrified, I shoved him off of me. He lay on his back, gasping, the head of his cock poking above the waistband of his pants. "Buffy?" he said questioningly.
"I've gotta go-" I spat out, and took off running down the steps.
"Buffy!" I heard him call out after me, but I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.
I ran through my neighborhood and across the field. I'd nearly reached the cemetery gates before I realized that I was barefoot, weaponless, and wearing sushi pajamas. Common sense would dictate that I go home, face up to the vampire with blue balls, and call it a night. But no one had ever accused me of having common sense.
In the cemetery, I busted the chain on the caretaker's shack and helped myself to a rake and a shovel. Doubly armed, I began my patrol.
In the silence, my mind began to fill with recriminations and thoughts of misery, despair and guilt. Giles was so disappointed in me already, and so was Xander. Thank God Mom was dead, so she didn't know that I was making the same mistake twice. But I wouldn't; not this time. I wouldn't let it get that far, even though he was the only thing in this world that seemed real to me. It was just an indication of how wrong it was, how twisted I was, that Spike the vampire made my heart feel alive.
A hand closed around my wrist, and I spun the shovel slicing through the air. "Watch it!" Spike yelled.
"Go away," I said, and turned back to my patrol.
"You can't just leave me like this," he protested. "It's inhuman."
"So are you," I countered.
He hopped in front of me. "You did a sweep through here not two hours ago," he pointed out. "You killed all the baddies that go bump in the night."
"Except for the one that goes hump in the night," I said tartly.
"Buffy," he said seriously, "You can't just work up a guy and leave him that way."
"I don't have time for this," I said angrily. I didn't have time for any of this.
"Buffy, you know I love you," he said earnestly. "You mean the world to me-"
It looked like it was going to be one of Spike's long speeches. I wasn't in the mood, and I was pretty sure there was only one way to get him to shut up. With a sigh of resignation, I threw down my weapons and pulled him into a crypt.
I slammed him against the door as I yanked open the buttons on his jeans. His cock popped out, hard and dark, and I closed my mouth around it. I sucked hard, moving my mouth around and pulling out all the tricks that I knew so that he would come quickly and then go home. His hands gripped my shoulders and I could taste his pre come in my mouth, so I knew I was close. But he pushed me away. "Not so fast," Spike whispered. "Not like this."
"Don't you want to come?" I whispered back.
"Inside you," he asked. "The first time, I want to be inside you. Buffy, please," he whispered, but I ignored him. I went back to my task, and soon he was pumping vigorously inside my mouth, his hands gripping my head as he began to come. He finished with a quiet sigh, and I stood up and walked outside.
I'd only made it down another row of headstones before he popped up in front of me. "You think you can get rid of me that easily?" Spike asked with a Cheshire grin.
"Go home," I said. "We're done."
"Come to my crypt with me," he said.
"I have to patrol," I reminded him.
"You patrolled not two hours ago," he pointed out. "You just want to avoid me."
"If you go home, I will go on a real date with you," I promised. "I'm sticking to my love you as a friend only policy-"
"Despite the blowjob," he said happily.
"You're a pig," I said, truly annoyed. "No date for you, oink boy." I pushed past him, continuing on my way.
"You love me. You'll come around," Spike called after me.
"Don't hold your breath," I yelled back. He laughed as I winced at my inane comeback. "That was stupid."
"Giving away your location was stupid, Slayer," said a cool voice. I turned my head in time to see a large fist fly at my face. The punch landed, and I fell back, dropping my shovel.
"Slayer's not as smart as they used to be," said a second voice. A heavy kick landed on the side of my head and my breath escaped in a loud rush. "Maybe I can kickstart her brain."
I stood up, my field of vision totally blurred. I could hear them though, and I kicked and swung my rake, hearing the distinctive sound of dusting. I sensed a pack of them around me and dispatched several in quick succession.
"Slayer!" said a surprised voice, and my vision cleared just in time to see a pair of surprised blue eyes, platinum hair and black leather coat turn to dust and fall to the ground. Frozen, I stood there, shocked.
I felt myself be kicked to the ground, saw a pair of vampires descending towards me with fangs bared. I didn't fight, didn't even want to. The only person in this world that made life bearable, my solace, my heart, was gone- because I was the Slayer.
As fangs sank into my neck, I closed my eyes. Dying was so familiar. I tasted the very edge of my mortality, and then I was thrust back to consciousness again.
Someone was lifting me. "Can't believe you let some nasty thing get a taste of you."
I opened my eyes and looked up into Spike's worried face. "I thought you were dead."
"Course I'm dead," he snarked. "Must have taken a great bloody bang to the brainpan, if you'd forgotten that."
"I thought I'd dusted you," I whispered. "It was horrible."
"I'm here," he assured me. "I'll always be here when you need me, Slayer."
"My neck hurts," I told him. "I let that stupid vamp bite me."
"Why'd you do a crazy thing like that?" he asked. "Thought that dying twice would have worked that bloody death wish out of your system."
"I thought you were gone," I said. "I can't stay in this world, if you're not in it."
"Just close your eyes. I'll get you fixed up," he said quietly, and I gave in to the darkness.
I woke in the night, rolled against a cool, naked back. As I stirred, Spike rolled over to face me. "How's my girl?" he asked softly.
"My head hurts," I replied. My neck did, too, and I remembered the sensation of fangs sinking into my flesh. No doubt I'd added another juicy bite scar to my neck. Lovely.
Spike leaned over and turned on a light. He rummaged around next to the table and handed me a flask and some aspirin. I sat up and swallowed them, then looked around. "Your crypt looks nice. Sure beats the psycho stalker chaining chicks to the wall ambiance you had going last time."
"Dawnie spent a lot of time here over the summer," Spike replied. "Thought a change of mood was in order."
"So you were entertaining my little sister in your bedroom?" I asked. "I was probably spinning in my grave."
He frowned. "That's not funny, Buffy."
"No dead jokes?" I asked. "Dead jokes are funny. Weekend at Bernie's? Very, very funny movie."
"There was nothing funny about losing you, Buffy." Spike's fingers trailed through my hair in a smooth, sweeping motion. "All I want to do is keep you safe, and make you happy." I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. I didn't even notice when he slid down my body. Suddenly, I felt his fingers on my thighs as he slid his tongue inside me.
"I can't-" I explained, feeling myself blush. "I mean, that doesn't work for me. It's kind of a waste of time." It made me very self- conscious to have him down there. "Spike?" I said, pulling on one of his ears. He ignored me, working me harder with his tongue, moving one hand around to rub my clit.
I forgot about everything; why I didn't want him to do it, and why we needed to not get more involved, and everything that wasn't him. I lost myself to the sensation, and how good it felt to have him there. "Talk to me," he whispered between strokes. "Please."
I couldn't have denied him anything, then. "You feel so good," I whispered. "You feel so good inside me."
"Keep talking baby," he whispered, and licked my clit with long, slow swipes of his tongue.
"I never like this," I whispered. "But you make it so good. You go so deep inside me." His strokes went even harder, even deeper, like he was trying to reach the very core of me. "More." He moved harder, and faster. "Oh, God," I cried out, my thighs shaking. "Oh, Spike."
Spike slid away from my thighs, his face gleaming. He grinned at me as he moved over me and sank his cock inside in one smooth stroke. The feel of him was intense and shocking, like a burst of static electricity. He began to thrust inside me, bending his mouth to mine. I kissed him with all the passion that was inside me, and he responded eagerly. This seemed to please him, and he moved faster and faster.
"Buffy," he whispered, burying his face in my neck. "Sweet."
His face was pressing against the vamp bite, over the scars. "Spike," I said, my voice a plea.
"Slayer," he breathed against my neck.
"Bite," I whispered.
"Can't," he said raggedly.
"Want you to bite me," I said.
"Chip," he hissed against my skin.
"Taste me," I replied, my voice cracking. "Please, I'm close, I'm gonna-" In frustration, I scratched at my chest with his nails.
"Buggering fuck," he hissed. I felt his mouth close around my wound, and the sucking of my blood sent me over the edge. I cried out, and Spike pulled away from my neck, his mouth red. As one, we pulsed with orgasm, the waves of pleasure so hard and fast that it was dizzying.
We separated and Spike pulled me close. I cradled my head on his shoulder, finding a place where I fit perfectly. He took my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. "This will work," he said. "We will make this work. I will make you happy, Slayer. You will find peace and love and hope in this world, I promise you."
"Shh," I whispered, and put my finger over his lips. "Let's get some rest."