Reflections In The Light Of Day

Sequel to Desperate Measures

Buffy was on top of the Empire State Building, dressed in an evening gown. A giant gorilla towered over her, swatting at the planes that buzzed overhead, the incessant noise giving her a headache. She was just reaching for the rocket launcher to blow them out of the sky when the buzzing turned to ringing. The phone.

Buffy groaned and rolled over, her hand flailing in search of the handset. Finding it, she held it to her ear, wincing as the voice screeched at her, bordering on hysteria.

"Buffy, is that you?" *Giles. Oh God.* "Where have you been? I've been worried sick, you didn't check in, Willow and Xander haven't heard from you, are you all right?"

She cautiously peeked one eye open. It definitely was daylight. "Giles, what time is it?"

"Why, it's seven o'clock. It almost killed me to wait this long to call. You have a-a duty to check in with me when you are out on patrol. Is your mother out of town again?" Giles' relief at finding her alive was turning into exasperation. Didn't she realize how these things affected him? She was 'his' responsibility, his whole life now that Jenny was gone.

"Giles, a lot happened last night- I don't think I can talk about it over the phone. Can I meet you at the library, around noon? I didn't get much sleep."

Spike had left just over two hours ago, one step ahead of the dawn. Spike. How was she going to explain last night to Giles? She had been so worried about him finding out about her feelings for Angelus and now she was involved with Demon Number Two. What a mess her life was.

"All right, Buffy. I'll meet you later. I-I'm glad you're all right. You gave me a scare, that's all. See you in a while, then."

"Goodbye, Giles." Buffy hung up the phone and buried her face in her pillow. Last night came flooding back- Angel, Drusilla, Spike. The stunned look in Angel's eyes before he had exploded into dust, his face ravaged by holy water. She couldn't believe that Angel was gone, really gone. Buffy wondered if Spike was thinking the same thing about Drusilla. He had loved her and for a lot longer than Buffy had loved Angel. Now he had no one.

The tears started again and it felt as though someone were sitting on her chest. She hadn't wanted morning to come, hadn't wanted to face the repercussions of her deal with Spike in the light of day.

Giles was going to have a stroke if she told him even a shred of the truth. He had only accepted Angel because he had a soul. Spike wasn't human; he wasn't redeemed in any way. He had flat out told her that he would continue feeding the way he always had. But there was a tenderness underneath all that vampiric bluster. He had shown it with Drusilla and he had shown it with her. Angelus had been sadistic, cruel...completely evil.

She had to ask Giles to research this personality thing. If Angel had been created by the curse, then had the love they had shared been real? There had to be an explanation for why Spike was capable of compassion and Angelus wasn't. She wasn't sure she was going to like the answer, though. Buffy didn't want to think that Angel's feelings for her had been manufactured by some spell. She wanted to at least hold on to the good memories without having them tarnished.

Your fingertips...

Buffy pushed Angel out of her thoughts. She wouldn't deal with it, not yet. So what if it was morning and the sun was shining? There wasn't any law that said that she had to face everything right away. Her tears had stopped- probably due to empty tear ducts.

She rubbed her face in the sheets, Spike's scent filling her nostrils. He smelled so male; an earthy, musky, sexual fragrance that sent a current down to her core. She let memories of last night fill her mind- Spike in her bed, his naked body pale and beautiful. They had clung to each other like lost children at first, but it hadn't been long before their baser instincts had taken over.

Sometimes I feel it burning
That deep and primal yearning
I feel it burn, burn, burning

Perhaps it was a survival thing, two people grateful to still be alive. All she knew was that she hadn't been able to get enough of him. She had been wild with hunger for his touch, his kiss, the driving rhythm of his cock deep inside her. She had lost count of the times he had made her come, his mouth devouring every inch of her. Her face flushed and a low tingling sensation started in her belly as she remembered how he felt.

I try to live without it
But then I think about it

Buffy stretched lazily, her aching muscles finding some relief. She continued rubbing her face in the sheets, her hand drifting down between her legs to feel the sticky and tender flesh there. A shock of pleasure ran through her as she imagined Spike touching her again. His cold tongue tracing the veins in her neck and breasts. Her fingers slid in and out of her swollen lips as her hips rocked gently against the bed.

She imagined him sliding into her, his body straining above hers. The tension built quickly as she rushed toward her orgasm, surrounded by the scent of their lovemaking. She pictured his face in her mind and the climax hit her hard, causing her thighs to clamp together tightly. As the shudders ran through her body she whispered his name, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Those fingertips, those fingertips, those fingertips


Spike awoke with a start, Drusilla's scream echoing in his head. He groaned and rolled over, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He had never been able to sleep for a whole day-hell, he was lucky if he slept for four hours at a time. He was constantly restless, often pacing around his room to tire himself out. *Fuck!*

His body ached with exhaustion, but his mind wouldn't turn off. He kept seeing Drusilla's body catapulting through the air in slow motion, landing on that blasted unicorn with a shriek. She had called out to him in terror, as if she had known a second before it happened that she would die. *Guess your visions didn't warn you in time, eh pet?*

What was he going to do without her? There was nothing of his past left, no one who really knew him. *Listen to me, sniveling like some fucking, whiny 'human'.* Drusilla's destiny was decided when she chose Angel over him. Even at the end, she had preferred to follow her prick of a Daddy into hell, than to stay with the man who loved her.


He picked up a vase and threw it against the wall. Picture frames followed the vase as he proceeded to destroy the room. The shattering sound soothed him somewhat. He always felt better when he was breaking things or slamming people into walls. He collapsed on the floor, panting but dry-eyed. *Drusilla, you were always such a weak-willed bitch where Angel was concerned.*

Spike looked at the destruction and sighed. Why did he do these things? He would only have to pick it all up later. They didn't exactly have maid service and he wasn't the sort who liked to live in squalor. He could always bully one of the minions into doing it but he didn't like them touching his stuff. He didn't like 'anyone' touching what was his. Angel had known that and had exploited it for all that it was worth. *Well, that prick got what was coming to him, didn't he then?* Fitting that his precious face got burned before he bit the big one. Thinking about Angel's demise was giving him a happy. Now he could run things his way, have a little fun again.

Spike frowned as he remembered his promise to the Slayer. *Hell, I only promised not to kill her friends, that leaves a whole town to play with. I'll just keep out of her way. Let her stake the fledglings if she wants, they're a bunch of imbeciles anyway. Completely useless, the lot of them.*

Well, maybe not completely. When he had slipped in just before dawn he had found the autographed picture of Martin Landau waiting for him. He couldn't believe they had gotten it. Maybe he could send them back to get a whole cast photo from Space 1999. He had always had a thing for that shape-shifting chick with the weird eyebrows. He had put the picture in a place of honor on the mantel over the fireplace. At least they had done something right, for once. He would just have to work with what he had.

Sometimes I get so lonely
The time it passes slowly, so so so slowly

Spike stood up and started pacing, kicking debris out of his way. He could feel all of the nerves jumping under his skin, the way they always did when he got restless. Now that he was out of that godforsaken wheelchair he could give in to his hyperactivity. Except that right now his body ached from overuse and lack of sleep. He needed something to calm him enough so that he could pass out for awhile, or he'd be completely useless come nightfall.

He rubbed his face with his hands and the Slayer's scent washed over him. He hadn't bothered to shower when he had come home and the evidence of their rutting was still all over him. The scent sparked his memory and he reached into his back pocket, grinning as he pulled out a delicate strip of fabric. He'd forgotten that he'd put the panties there before leaving the cemetery.

I know I'm just a fool 'cos
They're writing all the rules
Those fingertips, those fingertips, those fingertips

Spike walked over to the bed and sat down, holding the fragrant bundle up to his nose. His cock twitched in response, quickly growing hard as the memories of last night and early this morning flooded him. He undid his pants and threw them off, releasing his throbbing hard-on.

Spike lay back on the bed, stroking his swollen cock while rubbing the silky material around the head. Instead of his own, it was her hand stroking him, her tongue teasing him. He remembered the taste of the Slayer's skin- vanilla and a touch of cinnamon, the feeling of power as her blood flowed into his mouth. Spike groaned, imagining the hot walls of her cunt surrounding him, squeezing him.

He quickened his pace, fist tightening as the pressure in his balls increased. In his mind, he heard her scream his name and with a growl, he came in hard spurts, catching the cum in her underwear. His body spasmed for a few minutes before relaxing completely. With a satisfied grin, he crawled sleepily back into bed and closed his eyes.

It's in the way they move
They catch that simple groove

Those fingertips, those fingertips
Anyone will do, anyone will do
Could be you

Let it be me
Let me be your love