Summary: Spike and Tara moments during the summer between Season 5 and Season 6.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy
A huge thank you to wonderful Juliaabra, who beta read this for me.
Tara pads downstairs, closer to the sound that weaves through the house like wind seeping through hidden cracks. Down into the basement she creeps, into the darkness where Spike lays on a cot, his pale body thrashing in agony as nightmares invade his sleep.
Reaching out, Tara touches his shoulder and gasps when he lunges, yellow eyes flashing, lips curled in a snarl exposing fangs. Seeing her, sensing no threat, he collapses back onto the cot.
Seating herself next to him, Tara tentatively touches his shoulder.
Tara won’t tell him that everything will be okay. Tara doesn’t lie.
Curiosity Killed the Cat
Spike sets the wooden box on the kitchen counter.
Dawn’s gaze flies to Spike’s face. “You got it.”
“Promised you I would.” Spike knows Tara is watching them quietly as she finishes the dishes at the sink.
Dawn opens the box, looks inside for a moment, and lets out a deep sigh, before closing the lid.
All the trouble has been worth it when, for the first time since the Buffy died, Dawn smiles.
Later, as he and Dawn talk on the porch, he hears Tara shriek. Spike hopes the sight of Doc’s severed head didn’t scare her too much.
Can’t Teach an Old Dog New Tricks
It is still dark when Tara leaves the warmth of Willow’s side and dons her robe. The front door creaks as she steps onto the porch.
“I know you’re there, Spike. If you want to be stealthy, you might want to give up smoking.”
Spike emerges from the shadows near the tree.
“You don’t have to stand outside. You’re welcome to come in.”
He gives her a sheepish smile. “Forgot about that.”
Tara places her hand on his arm. “Don’t forget.”
Even as she says it, she knows that tomorrow night, he will be back beneath the tree.
All Cats are Grey in the Dark
It’s dark, no moon out, and clouds are covering the stars. Despite his enhanced eyesight, he can barely see. Willow is directing their fight, talking in their minds, telling them where to hunt the beastie. Spike told them that it was too dark, too bloody dangerous, but the Scoobies didn’t listen. Instead, they twittered about the three dead girls found in the woods.
Swinging his sword, he slices the head off the nasty-smelling demon bent over to devour one of his companions. Extending a hand to help the potential victim stand, Spike feels warm softness and knows it is Tara.
It is late, and the night air seems heavy on her skin. Patrolling the cemetery with Spike, Anya, and Xander, Tara feels beads of sweat roll down. She watches as the damp spot on Xander’s back widens. Even Anya, dragging from the high temperatures, refrains from her usual sex talk.
Spike, in his leather coat, is the only one unaffected. Tara studies the pale coolness of his neck; wanting to touch it, let it chill her. When she realizes that he’s caught her staring, she stumbles.
Tara should say something, backtrack from the innuendo. She doesn’t.
Like Something the Cat Dragged In
Spike’s side is throbbing. He managed to kill the hellhound that thought his body was a chew toy, but he can feel the blood dripping from the wound, soaking his clothes. He can also feel Tara, arms around him, urging him forward.
The other Scoobies had shrugged at his injuries. Buffy had fought hellhounds easily so what was his problem? Tara insisted on helping him home.
“Not too far now, Spike. You can do it.”
He knows that she’s half-carrying him now. There’s strength in this sweet girl.
Spike takes another step forward. Then another. He refuses to disappoint her.
Stray Dogs Will Take What One Neglects
Dawn’s asleep and the others are patrolling. Tara volunteered to join them, but Willow said they didn’t need her. Willow doesn’t need anyone these days.
Spike is prowling the kitchen, shirtless. Part of the bandage that covers his injured side is curling up, and Tara moves to press it down when Spike turns. Her hand skims over his abdomen instead.
Tara yanks her hand back, then slowly re-extends it so she’s touching him again. His flesh quivers under her fingers. Spike doesn’t need to breathe, but he is. Tara doesn’t need to lean forward to kiss him, but she does.
Cat Got Your Tongue
The kiss becomes two, three, then so many blended together, they can’t be counted. As Spike’s lips travel to Tara’s neck, she touches his chest, exploring hard muscles, before sliding down. When her hand skims his bandage, Spike breaks away with a gasp of pain.
They stare at each other, still aching with want, before Tara slowly backs out of the room.
The next morning, Willow asks if everything went okay the night before. Spike and Tara look at each other, then glance away. Willow doesn’t notice their silence. She’s too busy regaling them with how well she’s directing patrols.
Like a Dog With a Bone
Spike looks at her now, and she feels warmth flood through her body and dampness seep between her thighs. Tara asks him to forget what happened. She tells him it will never happen again, but he won’t let it go. He simply flicks his eyes over her until she scurries to find Willow.
It has to stop.
When Willow first mentioned the possibility of bring Buffy back, Tara told her it was wrong. Now…now she goes along with the plan. Soon, Buffy will be back, and Spike will no longer look at Tara as if he wants to eat her.