|
|
||||
|
Alive
in Death “I hate you!”
Buffy screamed, throwing something on the lower level to punctuate her
words. “Yeah? You
keep breaking things, and you’re not too high on my list of favorite
people, princess!” Spike yelled back, gritting his teeth at the sound of
her sobbing. Grabbing a
bottle of bourbon, he swallowed half of it before pulling it away from his
lips, feeling the liquid burn down his throat, briefly distracting him
from the woman he loved and the agony she was obviously
in. Turning toward
the ladder in the crypt that led down to the lower level, Spike clenched
his jaw, slamming the bottle on top of the refrigerator before storming
toward it. Jumping the fifteen feet to the bottom, his feet never touching
the ladder, his anger slowly faded away when he saw her curled in a
corner, wrapped in the red shirt he’d given her to wear.
“Why?” she
whimpered, huddled on the floor. “Why would you do this to
me?” Spike stared
at her for a long moment, unable to come up with a reasonable answer.
Turning away from her to go up to the top level, he jumped in surprise
when he felt her powerful fists hitting his back. “Why?” she
screamed, her emotions so overwrought, she no longer knew what she needed,
wanting him to hug her and hit her at the same time. “I never asked for
this!” Spinning
around to catch her wrists in his hands, he held tight, rapidly backing
her up until her legs hit the bed, sending her falling to the mattress.
His body quickly pinned her in place, pressing her arms above her head,
closing his eyes when she began thrashing and writhing beneath him, her
anger and uncertainty turning to panic. “Spike, no!”
“No, stop
it!” “I know you
felt it… when I was inside you…” “Please…
please don’t do this again,” she cried, tears streaming down her
cheeks. “Please,
please, Spike, please…” “Oh God,”
Spike muttered, choking back the lump in his throat. Letting go of her, he
stumbled away from the bed, tears spilling down his cheeks as the emotions
he’d carefully tried to conceal from her came to the
surface. Turning away
when she got to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling his
shirt more firmly around her, Spike pinched the bridge of his nose, taking
a deep breath to control his emotions. “Go home,” he
said in a harsh whisper, staring straight ahead after a
minute. Buffy was
lost. Part of her wanted to go back to her house so badly – she could
practically hear the front door closing behind her – already feeling a
sense of safety that came with the place she knew as home. But there was
another stronger emotion that she’d never felt before. A tie to Spike that
was so strong, she could no longer ignore it. In spite of what he’d done
to her, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. “Spike…” “Please,
Spike, it hurts!” “Get out!” he
yelled, spinning around to face her, his demon flashing to the surface,
startling her into taking a step away from him. Buffy’s chin
quivered as she looked at him, feeling as if she was being ripped in
half. “Please don’t
make me,” she whispered, sniffling slightly before blinking back the
tears. “You don’t
want to stay here,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t go
home,” she said, shaking her head. “Not yet… there’s just too many
questions and… please, Spike… I don’t know much about this,
but…” ‘But I’m
supposed to take care of you,’ he filled in silently, obviously getting
lost in thought as he ran his tongue over one of his
fangs. Buffy never
felt her face shift as she watched the movement. Surprised when she found
herself standing next to him, the slight scent of his blood on the air
made her body hum with anticipation. Spike turned
yellow eyes to hers, seeing the need reflected in her gaze. Inwardly
berating himself for not taking care of her right after she’d woken up, he
took a hesitant step toward her. “Hungry, pet?” “I… I
shouldn’t,” she whispered, shaking her head even as she licked her
lips. “Not gonna
last long if you don’t,” he said, brushing away the loose strands of hair
that had fallen free from her ponytail. “Need to eat.” Spike’s jaw
clenched when she bit into his neck, taking deep pulls of his blood. The
bite stung, clearly that of a fledgling who had never bitten anyone
before. All of her teeth were firmly imbedded in his neck instead of just
her fangs, hungrily taking what she could from him. Spike’s head
dropped to Buffy’s shoulder, leaving light kisses and feeling her shiver
in response. Growing painfully hard in his jeans, he was determined to not
let anything happen between them. After taking her so roughly the night
before –assaulting her body and then taking her life – he knew he couldn’t
treat her that way again. Her soul was
still there, but now it was warring with the demon inside of her. He knew
that she was strong enough to rein in the demon, knowing that he would
help teach her how to curb the desires, but he wouldn’t teach her that
through sex. Still feeling too guilty about his
actions. Putting slight
pressure on the place where her neck met her shoulder with his hand, Spike
gently forced her to ease off, nuzzling her hair as the face of the demon
faded away, leaving her to still take what she could as her hand came up
to the other side of his neck, holding him in place. “I love you,”
he whispered, needing to reassure himself of that fact as much as
Buffy. Moaning at the
erotic experience, Buffy was lost to the world, only feeling the body of
her sire against her, his blood still fresh on her tongue. Part of her
told her that this was wrong – this was a man who had violated her only
hours earlier - but the other part desperately needed to feel a connection
with him. Reaching
between them, she roughly gripped his erection, hearing him groan in
response. Frantically working the button and zipper of his jeans, Buffy
ignored his mild protests, growing frustrated when he tried to restrain
her. Slamming her fist into his nose, a thrill went through her when
Spike’s face shifted, growling at her. Instinctively knowing that this was
his way to keep her in line, she smashed her lips against his, jumping
into his arms, trembling in anticipation when she felt his hands gripping
her ass, pressing her against the wall. “Take me,” she
whispered frantically when his lips broke away from hers to trail down her
neck, his fangs dragging along her skin, leaving thin rivulets of blood in
his wake. “Please, Spike.” Knowing that
the demon had taken over her desires, Spike tried to restrain himself.
Taking in a sharp breath when she reached between them to free his
erection, pumping him up and down a few times before moving the shirt out
of the way, directing him to her center, Spike’s hands tightened on her
skin. “We
shouldn’t,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t want to hurt you
again.” “Do I look
like I’m hurting?” Buffy asked, unsure of where her answer came from, too
lost in need as she ran the tip of his cock along her
entrance. Spike took a
deep breath, coming to a decision as he thrust into her. He roughly held
onto her hips, slamming his hips against hers, spurred on by the sounds
she was making. The feel of her fingernails digging into his back briefly
brought him back to reality. “Are you okay?” “Don’t stop!”
she cried, her face shifting as she arched her back, her shoulders resting
against the wall of the crypt as he thrust into her, his cock rubbing her
at the right angle with every stroke. The mindless cries and screams grew
louder as she neared her climax, her face shifting at the point that she
began to lose control. “Spike… I-I need…” Lunging at her
throat in response, he reopened the scar on her neck as Buffy screamed,
her inner muscles spasming around him, her hands wrapping around the back
of his neck as she held him in place. Frantically
meeting his thrusts, her own fangs found their way back to his neck, her
lips closing over the wound, feeling the familiar signs of his impending
orgasm. Biting down more viciously, the pain mixed with the pleasure as
Spike slammed her against the wall, his muscles tensing as he gasped for
air, slowly coming down from his climax. Buffy lightly
lapped at the blood on his neck, feeling him do the same to her before his
forehead fell to her shoulder. “That was…
that was…” “Yeah,” he
agreed with a breathless laugh, lightly rubbing her
thighs. “I belong to
you, don’t I?” Spike slowly
stood up a little straighter, tilting his head as if he was searching for
any type of animosity in her tone. “You… I don’t
know.” Buffy frowned
as he lowered her to the floor. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” she
asked, catching his arm before he could turn away from her.
Spike avoided
her eyes as he zipped his jeans, thinking of what he could tell her.
“Under normal circumstances… yes, you would.” “Because I’m
the Slayer,” she filled in, still looking at him. “That’s part
of it,” he said, raising his eyes to hers, seeing the confusion in her
gaze. “And the other
part?” she asked. Spike sighed,
crossing his arms over his chest. “You have a soul.” Buffy quickly
looked at the floor at the surprising feel of tears burning her eyes.
Forcing a laugh, she shook her head. “Guess it’s only fitting,” she said,
wiping her eyes. “What’s that
supposed to mean?” he asked skeptically. “My payback, I
guess… I made such a big deal about you not having a soul and
now…” The one thing
that had kept her from him, was now playing the part in keeping him from
her. “That’s not
what I’m saying, Slayer.” “Then what are
you saying?” she asked wearily, looking up at him. “Nothing’s
changed, Buffy. I’m still the same I was, and you…” “And I’m not,” she said, taking a deep
breath. “I don’t fit. I feel like I’m alive and I’m not. I feel like I’m
normal, and I’m not. And this
is all so new and I just…” Trailing off in a choked voice, Buffy angrily
wiped the tears away that spilled over. “Do you want
to be with me?” Spike asked, the same indifferent expression on his face
as he stared at her. “I do,” she
whispered with a hesitant nod. “Just because
you don’t want to be alone-” “That’s not
it,” she said angrily. “What do you want me to say? I was stupid, alright?
Is that what you need to hear? Me being the Slayer and you being a
vampire… it didn’t work.” “And it works
now?” he replied skeptically. “You’re my
sire,” she whispered in a lost voice, seeing his eyes soften slightly.
“You’re my…” “What?” he
asked, taking a step toward her. “I’m your – what?” “My mate,” she
said instinctively, her brow furrowing in confusion that she understood
something that had never been explained to her. Looking into his eyes, she
felt a sense of completion that she wasn’t sure about. “You’re my mate,”
she said, her voice taking on a stronger quality. Spike
hesitated for a moment before he nodded, closing his eyes when she stepped
forward and wrapped her arms around him. He knew that she craved some form
of closeness right now, and wasn’t about to deny her. Holding onto her, he
rested his cheek against the top of her head, feeling her relax after a
few moments. “You don’t
belong to me, Buffy,” he said, finally answering her earlier question,
gently kissing her when she pulled back to look at him. “I belong to
you.” Buffy relaxed,
biting her lip as she avoided his eyes, feeling free for the first time in
years. “Why don’t we compromise?” she said, pushing him toward the bed,
her hands pushing his shirt up his chest until he reached behind him,
pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side, his muscles tensing
when her fingernails dragged over his skin. “You belong to me for the next
few hours,” she said with a coy smile. Spike
chuckled. “And after that?” “I’m seeing a
role reversal in the future,” she said, pushing him down to the bed.
Straddling his waist, she lowered her lips to his, threading her fingers
through his hair, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers as his hands
lightly gripped her hips. She didn’t
care about their past. She didn’t care about the night before, choosing to
remember it for what it was: a moment of desperation for him that led to a
realization for her.
Everything
was different, but she felt more complete than she had in years. Sitting
up a moment later, her eyes widened as she looked at
him. “Something
wrong, love?” Spike asked, surprised at the sudden change in
her. “I
never realized,” she murmured, never looking away from his eyes.
“Realized…
what?” And
I was warm… and I was loved… and I was finished. “That
I’m still me.” ~The
End~ |
||
| ||