Buffy decided not to stop in the library before classes, wanting to take a
few minutes to gather her thoughts without being subjected to Giles' scrutiny.
She headed for her locker, smiling at several familiar faces while keeping an
eye out for the rest of the gang. Jonathan and Larry both gave her a wide berth,
so she made a mental note to catch up with them later and apologize. Or maybe
she'd let Larry stay frightened of her awhile longer; she kind of liked him
better that way.
Stopping at her locker, Buffy shifted her books to one arm and quickly
unlocked the door. Tossing the books inside, she glanced up at the top shelf,
expecting to find a pen. Instead, there sat a single red rose, its color so deep
that it was almost purple.
Buffy just stared for a moment, before reaching up to pluck the flower from
the shelf. A piece of paper came drifting out of the locker and fluttered to the
floor. Buffy bent down to retrieve it, smiling as she held the flower under her
nose to sniff its fragrance. There was only one line, written in an unfamiliar
hand- all angles and sharp edges:
Treehouse, tonight- 11 o'clock.
Her smile widened and a blush stole over her cheeks as she remembered their
last time together in the treehouse. *Wonder what he has in mind?* She closed
her eyes and let the soft petals caress her cheek, imagining Spike's fingers
stroking her in its place. Just the thought of him started a tingling in her
lower abdomen, making her yearn for his touch all over again.
Buffy pictured him sneaking into the school- breaking into her locker,
risking the sun's fiery rays- all for the sake of one simple, romantic gesture.
*I can't believe he did this; I can't believe he even THOUGHT of doing this!*
Spike kept surprising her with his complexities. Each time he did, he broke
down one more barrier, dug his way into her heart a little deeper. She wondered
if he was having the same doubts and fears that she'd been struggling with, or
if he was sleeping peacefully, unaware of what he was doing to her.
"Buffy! There you are!"
Startled, she flung the rose and the paper into her locker, grabbed the first
book she touched and slammed the door shut, trying not to look flustered as she
turned around to greet Xander and Willow.
"Hey guys, what's up? I'm feeling so much better today, I can't BEGIN to tell
you how much!" *Stop babbling Summers, you'll only make them suspicious.*
Xander eyed her warily, taking in her well-groomed appearance and bright
smile. She seemed like her old self, but he knew from experience that she could
turn on him at any given moment.
Buffy reached out and touched his arm, giving him an apologetic look.
"Xander, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't know what came over me. Can
we chalk it up to some big, bad, Hellmouth thingy and forget it ever happened?"
She looked up at him with those eyes. *Oh god* He never could resist her when
she looked at him like that. He'd long ago given up trying to fight what she did
to him; it was easier to just cave and try to suppress the hard-on that he knew
was inevitable. Xander rolled his eyes at her and grinned.
"I SUP-POSE I forgive you, you'd probably kick my ass if I didn't. You know,
living on the Hellmouth puts a whole new spin on the concept of PMS. Remind me
to thank my parents for deciding that Sunnydale was the ideal place to settle
and raise children."
Buffy smiled up at him, relieved that he wasn't angry with her. Her relief
was short-lived, however, as she spotted Cordelia over his shoulder. She braced
herself for the fashion commentary that she knew would be coming her way.
Cordelia slid her arm around Xander's waist possessively and flashed her Miss
America smile in Buffy and Willow's general direction. Her eyes raked over
Buffy's attire, taking inventory before coming to rest on the scarf. Pleased to
have something to criticize, Cordelia's smile widened; nothing brightened her
day like a fashion victim.
"Buffy! Interesting look, that scarf is so...what's the word I'm looking
for...five minutes ago?"
Buffy laughed, one hand coming up involuntarily to finger the silk at her
neck. "Actually Cordelia, that's three words. And I consider my look "retro".
Maybe I'll start a trend."
Cordelia sputtered in disbelief. "YOU! People like you don't start trends,
people like ME start trends..."
Xander decided to cut off her tirade before she got up to full steam. "Cordy,
honey! Did I tell you how great you look today? Is that a new outfit?"
Buffy threw him a grateful look as the bell rang. "I'd better run, guys! I'll
catch you later, at lunch!"
She hurried off to first period, a definite bounce in her step as the other
three stared after her with puzzled expressions. Xander was the first to break
"Okay, not that I'm not happy to have the old Buff back, but what the HELL is
going on? Yesterday she gives me a public flogging and today she's all sweet and
bubbly, begging my forgiveness. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but dammit,
Cordelia gave him a comforting pat. "Xander, you're always confused, but
that's not the point. Buffy tried to tell ME what's in style! THAT outfit
"retro"? Give me a break!"
Willow shook her head and gave them both an exasperated look. "Something's
definitely up with Buffy; she looks so happy, acting almost as if...no, that's
ridiculous, it's gotta be something else."
"What, Will? What's gotta be something else?" Xander was looking at her with
interest, eager to be clued in to what might be causing Buffy's erratic
"She just seems a little too cheerful today, that's all. And it's only been a
few days since Angel...you know, since she..."
"Yeah well, maybe she finally decided that offing Deadboy was a "good" thing
and it's giving her a major happy." The thought of Angel's death never failed to
give Xander a deep down satisfied feeling.
"Maybe. She just looked so flustered when we walked up, and she's sort of, oh
I don't know, glowing, I guess." She shook her head and shrugged. "Don't mind
me, too many thoughts, as usual. We'd better get to class."
They headed down the hall, Xander and Cordelia both oblivious to the nagging
suspicion swirling around in Willow's brain. She knew that Giles was worried
about Buffy's unpredictable behavior; he had that 'look', and he'd been rubbing
his forehead a lot. He'd be relieved when he saw how happy Buffy seemed today.
Willow's eyebrow furrowed in consternation. She couldn't help but think that
Buffy looked like someone in love, all flushed and starry-eyed. *But that's
impossible. Angel's dead, and we would have noticed if Buffy was interested in
one of the boys here at school, or even at the Bronze.* Just then, Oz came
around the corner smiling his sweet smile, and Willow forgot all about Buffy as
she ran to meet him.
Morning smiles, like the face of a newborn child,
Winter's end, promises of a long lost friend
Speaks to me of comfort
Giles glanced at his watch, then back at the phone for the tenth time in
fifteen minutes. *Eight hours, give or take.* She'd always been home in the
afternoons, but things might have changed in the three years since he'd last
spoken with her. *Three years! Has it been that long?*
He felt a pang of guilt for neglecting to keep in touch. She'd always been
there for him; the least he could have done was let her know that he'd settled
in Sunnydale. *No, Rupert, you only call when you need something, never to
inquire about HER life.*
But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Making up his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed the number that was
permanently etched in his brain. As he listened to the call make its way
overseas, he thought about the last time he'd actually laid eyes on her- ten
He could still see her, the sunlight glinting off of her red hair, green eyes
dancing with mischief as she laughed at his hiking skills. Meredith. Willow's
resemblance to her was uncanny sometimes, causing him no small amount of
discomfort. He was startled out of his reverie by a male voice on the other end
of the line.
"Hello?" Did he dial correctly?
"Um, yes. Hello, may I speak to Meredith Waldman, please?"
"Whom shall I say is calling?"
"Hold a moment, please."
Giles could hear him calling to someone in the distance. "Darling? Phone for
you, a Rupert Giles."
He wanted desperately to hang up and forget he ever called. Then, HER voice,
sparkling and cool- like a mountain brook, flowed over him across the wire.
"Hello, Rupert is that really you?"
"Y-yes, Meredith, it's me. I'm sorry it's been so long, how are you?"
"I'm wonderful, and...I'm married. For two months now."
Giles closed his eyes for a moment, wondering at the feeling of loss. *You
have no right, no right at all to be jealous. You gave up any claim to her years
He tried to muster some sort of enthusiasm in order to congratulate her.
"That 'is' marvelous news, I'm very happy for you." There, that sounded normal.
"Thank you, Rupert. That means a lot, coming from you. Now, enough about me-
where are you, HOW are you? Tell me everything."
"Well, I...I live in Sunnydale, California and I'm a school librarian, of all
things." He could hear her delighted laugh, and knew that she was picturing him
surrounded by miniature Rippers. She knew everything about him, good and bad.
The only person besides Ethan who understood him completely.
"They've gone and given me an active Slayer. Can you imagine? Someone must
have known what they were doing, she's downright impossible at times. Exactly
what I deserve, at least in the Council's eyes." He chuckled ruefully. "Her name
is Buffy and truthfully- in spite of being somewhat difficult, she's the most
resourceful Slayer I've ever come across. Her strength astounds me." He could
feel his eyes water as he thought of Buffy and how much she meant to him.
"I can tell by your voice how proud you are of her. And I always knew that
you'd make a fine Watcher; there was never any doubt in my mind."
"Meredith...the reason I called- Buffy is going through a difficult time and
I-I'm not sure how to help her. I didn't know who else to turn to. I know I
don't have any right to ask, but you helped me when I needed it most..." His
voice trailed off as he felt guilt plague him once again for using her this way.
"Of course you have the right, that's what friends are for. I'll always be
here, I thought you understood that."
"I'm a sodding idiot, I don't know why you put up with me." He felt better
already, just hearing her voice.
"Yes, you do. I have too many years invested in our friendship, too many
memories. Now, tell me about Buffy and what's troubling the both of you."
Giles proceeded to fill her in on the past two years, telling her everything
about Angel, Buffy, Jenny, Spike's various evildoings. He left nothing out,
unburdening himself to her just like he had when he was 25, teetering back from
the brink of destruction.
Meredith cried when he talked about Jenny, of love lost before it had a
chance to blossom. Talking about Jenny offered catharsis, something he'd been in
desperate need of. He couldn't talk to Buffy; she would only feel more guilt and
he refused to inflict that upon her.
Finally, after describing Buffy's ordeal with Angel and her recent behavior,
Giles was finished- emotionally drained, but feeling better than he had in days.
"So, that's everything, then. Life on the Hellmouth, and all that it
entails." He waited breathlessly for her say something, anything.
"Rupert, I-I had no idea- the things that you have to face, day after day,
good lord! I can almost understand why you wanted to escape all those years ago.
Poor Buffy, so young to have all of that weight on her shoulders. I can't
imagine what it must be like, for either one of you."
That was the problem, no one could imagine it, not unless they experienced it
"It's Buffy I'm worried about. Killing Angel may have been too much for her
to bear, I'm afraid. I don't know that she was ever able to separate Angel from
Angelus; to look at him and see the monster beneath the face of the man she
loved. She's been having terrible nightmares, but she won't talk about them,
won't tell me much of anything."
"You're a man, she's a young girl. It's awkward, I know. Have you told her
anything about your past? Perhaps that would help, if you confided in her."
He sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "She knows about
Eyghon, of course. And a little about Ethan, but nowhere near the whole truth.
I've never told anyone, except you. She's so young and my past is...something I
don't even like to think about. If she is unable to trust me, I'll have failed
as her Watcher, and I don't think I could survive that."
"I understand, Rupert. I'm afraid I haven't been much help, have I?" She
sounded distressed, giving him another pang of guilt.
"Meredith- I, just talking to you has helped, more than you know. You've
always been able to do that, make everything seem better, somehow." A thought
occurred to him. "I'll bet you were a beautiful bride. Would you send me a
picture?" He heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end.
"Are you sure? I'd be glad to, if you really want it."
He smiled then, truly happy for her, even though it meant closing a door on
that part of his life. "I do want it. I've missed you, Meredith. I was a fool to
let so much time go by. I won't do it again. Now, I've taken up enough of your
time, I should go."
"All right, Rupert. I'm so glad you called. I've missed you, as well."
He gave her his address and said goodbye, his voice tinged with regret and
sadness- for what he'd walked away from all those years ago, and would never
have a chance at again.
Giles stared at the phone for a long time after hanging up, unable to stop
visions of a younger, happier time from flickering through his mind. He rubbed
his face with his hands, feeling old and tired, but at peace for the first time
He looked up into another pair of green eyes, so much like Meredith's that
for a moment, past and present intertwined, leaving him disoriented and
Tangled up in your embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall
"Willow!" He fumbled with his glasses, regaining his composure when they
were safely back on his face. "Why aren't you in class?"
Giles stood up and began shelving books, trying to ignore the effect that she
had on him. Willow followed him, grabbing a stack of books on her way. She set
them down on the cart in front of the shelf, turning to look at him with
"Mrs. Miller sent me down here for some history books." She reached out,
laying a hand on his arm, her touch sending a jolt through him. "Giles, are you
okay? You seemed...far away, just now."
He gave her a quick, nervous smile and moved away, pretending to be engrossed
in his work.
Wind in time, rapes the flower
trembling on the vine and
Nothing yields to shelter it from above
"I'm fine, Willow, just...worried about Buffy, I suppose. These last few
days have been rough on her." Focusing on Buffy gave him a chance to calm down.
*She's a child, for god's sake. Less than half your age. Get hold of yourself,
you're turning into a Nabokov character.*
"I saw Buffy this morning. She looked better, more like her old self. Maybe
she's finally starting to deal with Angel's death."
"Perhaps." He glanced at her, this child-woman, so unaware of how desirable
she was, of how much she tempted his inner demon. *You're staying buried,
Ripper, where you belong. I won't allow you to fuck up my life again.*
They say temptation will destroy our love
The never ending hunger
"Shouldn't you be getting back to class? Do you need any help with those
Willow shook her head and hurried to the stacks, pulling several books off of
the shelves. She returned after a few minutes and stood in front of him, looking
as though she wanted to say something, but unsure of how to go about it.
"Giles, Buffy will be okay. She's tough, you know? And she has you to help
her get through this, which means that she'll be just fine."
Her trust in him, her confidence that he could make it all better, only
served to make him feel worse about his reaction to her.
"Thank you, Willow. That's very kind of you. You'd better run along now,
before Mrs. Miller wonders where you are."
She nodded and murmured a quick "See you later," hurrying out the door.
Giles stared after her, afraid that his call to Meredith had dredged up too
many memories. Memories that only intensified his attraction to Willow, making
him feel like a damned fool. *Christ! How can I help Buffy when my own life is a
such a disaster?* He turned back to the books, immersing himself in the mundane
task, emptying his mind of everything except the job at hand. Trying to forget
that he lusted after a girl he'd sworn to help protect, a girl young enough to
be his daughter.
But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Tangled up in our embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall
Buffy stared at the clock, cursing its slowness and praying for the school
day to come to an end. She hadn't been able to think of anything but Spike and
the treehouse all day; hurrying to her locker between classes in order to touch
and smell the rose, as if she needed to convince herself that she hadn't
imagined finding it that morning. She'd only half listened to the conversations
at lunch, oblivious to the strange looks that Willow threw her way as she sat
there, a secret smile lighting her face. Buffy felt like screaming as she
drummed her pencil on the desk; eleven o'clock was so far away! She didn't know
how she would keep from going insane until then.
Finally, the bell rang and Buffy leaped from her seat as if shot from a
cannon. Grabbing her books, she bolted for the door, heading straight for the
library. *Meet with Giles, blow off training, and then what? Spend the next
eight hours pulling my hair out by the roots?* She burst through the library
doors, startling Giles, who was just coming out of his office.
"Buffy! Good lord, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Pausing to catch his
breath, he looked at her, taking in the flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and
playful smile. *Willow was right, she does look better today.*
Relief flooded him; he'd been so afraid that she wouldn't be able to pull
herself together, afraid that he'd have to delve into his own past in order to
try to help her. Giles cursed his wretched cowardice, wishing that he was as
brave as the young woman standing before him.
"Sorry, Giles." She smirked up at him impudently, letting him know that she
was anything but. "Listen, about training today...I really have a ton of
Giles held up his hand, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "It's fine, Buffy.
We can skip training today. My bruises need a chance to heal, at any rate."
"Great! So, anything Hellmouthy to report? Prophecies of doom? I can hang for
a little while, as long as I spend some time studying." She threw her books on
the table and hopped up next to them, swinging her feet in the air as she waited
for the rest of the gang to show up.
"Um yes, well, actually things are quiet for the time being. What about your
patrols? Any sign of Spike, or any indications that he's planning something?"
Luckily for her, Giles had his back turned and missed the blush that spread
across her face. "Nope, just normal vamp activity, nothing out of the ordinary."
"Good. Perhaps your evaluation of him is correct, and he won't seek any
Buffy twirled a piece of her hair and tried to look unconcerned. "Don't
worry. Whatever happens, I've got it covered. I can handle Spike...and anything
he dreams up."
She was saved from further conversation by Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia.
The five of them spent an hour talking about normal high school activities
before Buffy stood up and announced that she was leaving. Telling Giles that
she'd be sure to patrol for a couple of hours after sundown, she practically
skipped her way out the door, stopping at her locker to retrieve the rose.
Spike paced back and forth, willing the sun to go down, anxious to be out of
the mansion and away from prying eyes. Darius was snooping around- Spike just
knew he was looking for any excuse to undermine his role as Master.
He hated all of the fucking politics that went with being in charge, always
having to be on guard. If he didn't hate the thought of answering to someone
else more, he'd step down; let some other poor sod watch over the idiots. *Yeah,
right! No fucking way am I giving up control of Sunnyhell. It was bad enough
having to deal with Angelus.*
Tomorrow...tomorrow for sure he'd have to tell the minions about Angel and
Dru. All hell was going to break loose. *They'll be clamoring for the Slayer's
It was going to be interesting- continuing his relationship with the Slayer
while keeping up the pretense of trying to kill her. Part of him was looking
forward to the challenge; at least it would keep him on his toes. The other part
wanted to take the Slayer and run far from all of this Hellmouth madness- find
some dark corner of the world where they could be together without worrying
about her Watcher, or her idiot mum, or a bunch of vampires jockeying for power.
Just the two of them, shagging until their parts fell off. *Yeah, well, it's a
nice thought, anyway.*
The sun slipped below the horizon, signaling his freedom. He figured on
grabbing something to eat before meeting the Slayer, maybe find a way to steer
the minions away from the playground for tonight. It wouldn't do for one of them
to catch him with her, not this soon, anyway. *I'll check the newspaper for a
sporting event. Lots of food milling about, the fledglings will go for that.
As he headed downstairs, Spike wondered if the Slayer had liked the rose.
He'd always been good at that sort of thing...when he put his mind to it. He was
sure that she'd been surprised, figuring that a demon was incapable of romantic
gestures...of showing feelings. Well, she'd realize soon enough that he was
different from that fucking bastard, Angelus.
He'd always been capable of caring; the demon hadn't taken that away from
him. He would never have stayed with Drusilla all those years if the demon had
wiped out every last bit of his humanity. That was the kicker, why did he seem
to have more of a heart than Angelus? Why was he able to love, when Angelus
couldn't? And he HAD loved Drusilla- worshiped her, in fact. The only thing
Angel had seemed to love was causing pain and destruction.
Before meeting Darla, Angelus had been given every advantage in life, born of
well to do parents- unlike Spike, who'd been saddled with a drunken whore for a
mother and who, from the tender age of seven, had had to rely on only his wits
to survive. So why had Angelus turned out to be psychotic, while he, on the
other hand, was merely somewhat rambunctious? Well, all right, maybe a sight
more than rambunctious, but nowhere near the evil prick that Angelus had been.
So, what did it mean? Hell if he knew, and what the fuck did it matter,
anyway? *Bloody hell!* Ever since he'd started up with the Slayer, he'd been
plagued with too many introspective thoughts. *She's driving me out of my bloody
mind! I never cared about this shit before. Probably because I was too busy
taking care of Dru. Bloody full time job, that was.*
Spike grabbed the newspaper off of the table, eager to have something else to
occupy his mind. He scanned the headlines, catching a small blurb on page 5,
about a woman in LA found dead in her apartment, drained of blood. *Lara.* He
felt the tiniest twinge of regret before turning to the sports page, hoping to
find something to attract the boys' attention. *Aha! There it is!* Just outside
of town, a minor league baseball game, filled with thousands of unsuspecting
Spike casually mentioned the game to Jason- who used to play high school
ball- knowing full well that Jason would rope everyone into going with him. His
privacy problem solved, Spike went out in search of his own dinner, his spirits
lifting as soon as he was free of the mansion's oppressive air.
It was time to go meet Spike- finally, after a seemingly endless day. Buffy
had been practically jumping out of her skin all evening, stalking around the
house like a caged animal, waiting for sundown so that she could go patrol and
work off some of her pent up energy.
To her disappointment, she'd only found one newly risen fledgling, hardly a
challenge. *Newly risen, now who could've...?* She doubted that it was Spike;
he'd complained enough times about Angel populating the earth with his
'children'. That meant that someone else was trying to build a 'family'. *Or an
army. I'd better warn Spike to watch his back.* A Slayer looking out for the
welfare of a Master vampire, could her life possibly go more askew than this?
She seriously doubted it, but this WAS Sunnydale, after all.
Buffy finished buttoning her dress- a light, cotton, sleeveless thing that
she figured wouldn't be on her body for very long. *Why do I even bother getting
dressed?* The scarf went back around her neck, just in case she happened to meet
anyone on her way to the park. Sweeping her hair up, she pinned it loosely so
that a few tendrils escaped, framing her face.
With one last look in the mirror, she grabbed a pair of sandals and snuck out
of the house, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought her mother would
hear her. *It feels almost like a real date, except for the sneaking around
part. Thank god Mom's already in bed; she won't even notice that I'm gone.*
Nothing short of Armageddon was going to keep her from meeting Spike. Nothing at
I'll bite the hand that feeds the pain
I'll lay my life down for love
I lost the truth, I lost my way
But I am looking for it
The streets were empty as she hurried to the park; no sign of anyone,
alive or undead. Buffy walked steadily toward the treehouse, suddenly nervous
about seeing Spike again. After last night, their relationship seemed changed,
somehow, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. *What if I imagined it? What
if he doesn't feel the same way?* She stopped in front of the door and it
suddenly opened, revealing a different Spike than the one she was used to
Oh I am looking for it now
I am looking for it
Oh I am looking for myself
He stood there in the doorway- just looking at her- barefoot, in faded
jeans and a midnight blue shirt that darkened the color of his eyes. His face
younger, more relaxed. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as she stared back
at him, caught up in those eyes- deep, penetrating, always seeing more than she
wanted him to. She slipped off her sandals as he reached for her hand and helped
her inside, holding her gaze, still not saying a word.
As the door closed behind her, Buffy looked at her surroundings, taking in
the blankets and pillows covering the floor, the flickering candles that filled
the shelf on the wall. Slow, sensuous music sounded from the portable cd player
in the corner. He'd even tacked blankets up on the windows, for privacy. Tears
sprang to her eyes as she looked back at him in wonder, surprised that he'd gone
to the trouble of making the treehouse comfortable- cozy, even.
"Spike, it's-" She didn't know what to say; it was all too much. He wasn't
supposed to be like this, make her feel this way. *He wasn't supposed to make me
fall in love with him.* The tears slipped down her cheeks as she finally
admitted to herself what she'd been denying all along.
Spike took her face in his hands and gently kissed away her tears, their
saltiness clinging to his lips. He reached up and loosened the pins from her
hair, running his fingers through the silky strands while his eyes roamed over
every inch of her. *So beautiful, golden fire...like seeing the sun again.*
After a hundred years of Drusilla's darkness, he welcomed the light- craved
its warmth, not caring if he got burned. *Angelus was a bloody fool. How could
he have wanted to destroy something so perfect?*
Even when Spike was trying to kill the Slayer, a part of him held back,
knowing that he'd never again find another who challenged him like she did. He'd
always credited himself with having more brains than Angel and here was the
proof. The Slayer belonged to 'him' now, and Angel was dust, just as he should
have been a fucking long time ago.
A savior sent to save the world
An angel has no armor
Now torn and bent, no wings unfurl
We are looking for it
Oh we are looking for it now
Spike unwrapped the scarf from her neck, running his fingertips across
the bite, feeling her tremble at his touch. The healing process had already
started, but he could still make out the tiny holes where his fangs had pierced
her skin, leaving his mark. Pulling her close, he brushed his lips over the
wound, fighting the urge to drink from her again. He wondered if there was
something in her blood, some addictive chemical that would account for his
obsessive need to be with her, to feel her body beneath his, to taste her
Sliding his hands around her waist, he kissed his way up her neck, stopping
at her ear to whisper, "I want to make love to you, Slayer. It's all I've
thought about since this morning."
Reaching up to wind her arms around his neck, Buffy pressed closer to Spike,
wanting to feel his hard body pressed against hers, her heart already beating
faster as his soft words registered. She buried her face in the hollow of his
throat, trailing kisses over his cool skin as his hands moved across her back,
holding her tighter. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, unfastening
them one by one, her mouth covering every part of his exposed chest.
"You taste so good," she murmured, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders and
down his arms.
Spike gripped her arms, pulling her back against him and capturing her mouth
in a kiss that left her breathless. His tongue slid past her lips to stroke
hers, the sensation causing a tingle that traveled all the way to her womb. As
the kiss grew deeper, they both moaned at the same time, their hands roving over
each other's skin, forgetting everything except the feeling of their bodies
pressed tightly together.
We are looking for it
We need to find but one thing good
He slowly unbuttoned her dress, letting it slip to the floor until she
stood there before him, clad only in white lace panties. The panties followed
the dress and his eyes darkened with lust as he gently lowered her to the
makeshift bed. From behind a pillow, he produced another rose, similar to the
one that he'd left in her locker. Holding it over her head, he brought it down
slowly, lightly caressing her brow, drifting over her nose, across her lips.
Buffy sighed with pleasure as the soft petals moved over her skin, touching her
lower and lower. Spike took his time, watching her face as he swirled the rose
around one pink nipple, then the other, smiling as she whimpered and arched
And under every star (I'm finding heaven)
She gave herself up to the exquisite torture that he was inflicting upon
her. Teasingly, the flower eased its way down over her stomach, dipping into her
navel, kissing the hollow between hip and thigh. Her breath caught in her
throat, waiting to see where it would go next. Spike didn't disappoint, easing
her legs apart and lightly brushing the rose back and forth across her clitoris
and her labia, just barely touching the sensitive flesh. It was almost too much;
she didn't know whether she wanted it to stop...or never end.
In every breath of air (I'm finding heaven)
Spike couldn't wait any longer to taste her. He replaced the flower with
his mouth, licking every fold, sucking her clit while his hands smoothed over
her hips, lifting them in order to drink deeply from the wetness flowing over
his tongue. This was home to him, this sweet warmth between her thighs. The only
thing that eased his restlessness, gave him any kind of peace. His cock throbbed
painfully, still trapped inside his jeans. He slid a finger inside of her,
rubbing, listening the hoarse cries coming from her throat.
In everything I have (I'm finding heaven)
Buffy grabbed Spike's hair and pulled, wanting to feel him on top of her-
inside her. He raised his head and looked into her eyes, seeing the urgency in
them. Quickly undoing his jeans, he yanked them off, freeing his swollen member.
Moving between her legs he stared down at her face, brushing his thumb across
Buffy ran her hands over the muscles in his arms, gazing up at him with
luminous eyes, letting him see what she'd tried so hard to hide.
"Love me, Spike, please..."
With a groan, Spike buried his face in her neck and found himself answering
her, almost against his will. "I will, pet." *I do...God-or-Satan-or-whoever
fucking help me.* He'd cut out his tongue before he said the words out loud; it
was enough that they'd popped into his head.
Spike eased into her slowly, holding her face in his hands so that he could
watch her eyes. She gasped as he filled her, wrapping her legs around him and
thrusting upward until he was fully sheathed in her warmth. Buried deep, he
stayed still, fighting for control as he felt her tighten around him. Both of
them were thinking the same thing...that nothing on earth had ever felt this
good, this right.
In everything I am...
Their moans filled the air as they began moving together in perfect
rhythm, already in tune with each other's bodies. Her fingernails dug into his
back as she arched against him, taking him deeper, feeling his cock grow harder
with each thrust. She opened herself wholly to him, completely filled with his
cold, hard length.
Buffy pulled his face down to hers, kissing him, her hands winding through
his hair. Moving from her mouth to her ear, Spike traced the curve with his
tongue, nipping and sucking at the lobe.
"Spike...aaahhh, that feels..." Her voice trailed off as he sped up, rocking
his groin against her clit, making speech impossible as she felt her climax draw
"You're so hot and wet, love, so tight," he breathed against her neck,
knowing she was close by the high pitched sounds coming from her throat.
Clutching her hips, Spike drove into her harder, his face buried in her hair,
surrounded by her scent.
"Come for me, Slayer, I want to hear you scream..." He felt her body shake,
could hear her heart pounding as she forced out the words.
"Say...my...name..." She needed to hear him say it, even if it was only once.
Spike growled low in his throat, so close to his own orgasm that he didn't
think he could hold out much longer. He put his lips to her ear, feeling his
control snap as he said her name for the first time. "Buffy...I-aahh, Christ!"
The sound of her name on his lips sent Buffy over the edge, her body going
rigid. "Now, Spike, please, please, please..." She screamed as she exploded,
coming in wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Spike quickly followed, letting out a roar as he felt her tighten around him,
releasing his seed in long spurts that seemed to go on and on. The force of it
left him shaken and his head dropped to her shoulder, pressing against her damp
The world is big, the world is bad
But I will find the beauty
I see a vision in my head
I am looking for it
Tears leaked from Buffy's eyes as she lay there, trembling, her hand
stroking his sweat soaked hair. *I love you.I love you.I love you...*
As if he could hear her thoughts, Spike raised his head and looked at her,
one of his fingers coming up to touch her cheek. *Christ, Slayer...what the fuck
have you done to me?* He closed his eyes, rubbing his head against hers as the
tremors subsided. *No way out, not now, not ever...* Completely lost, sucked
into the vortex...and he didn't even care, not one fucking bit.
Oh I am looking for it now
Oh I am looking for myself