All About Spike - Plain Version
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Chapter: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
Love is Blind
"Heav'n but the vision of fulfill'd desire and Hell the shadow
of a soul on fire"
-- Omar Khayyam
Everything happened very quickly. One moment Spike was leaning
over Buffy, tucking the leather coat around her, the next she was flinging
herself away from him, off the top of the tomb and onto the ground...and
the moment after that he was flat on his back halfway across the crypt's
floor where she had thrown him. And there was a very angry -- and
dangerous -- Slayer on top of him.
Still slightly stunned, Spike gazed up into Buffy's unseeing eyes.
She was sitting on his chest, pinning him to the ground while she reached
automatically for a weapon. There was no recognition on her face,
no sense that she even knew where she was or who she was sitting on.
Instead, something primitive and ferocious burned behind her eyes...
...something that Spike recognized, that caused the demon within himself
to leap forward in welcome.
He must have moved without thinking because Buffy snarled once, soundlessly,
then lashed down at him with one fist. Spike dodged the blow then
surged up, sweeping her off so that they ended up rolling along the crypt
floor together, their limbs tangled.
Part of the vampire was enjoying this to the hilt, even though his broken
ribs complained with every movement. The length of her body against
his...having the Slayer in his arms, even like this...it was probably as
close to heaven as he was ever going to get. But another part of
him was busy worrying about her injuries. Just then, though, she
rolled on top of him, certain parts of her anatomy pressing against certain
parts of his...and Spike told the second part of himself to bloody well
They came to a sudden stop beside the tomb, rolling into its side with
such force that the impact jarred them both. On top, at least for
the moment, Spike took advantage of the Slayer's momentary pause and reached
out with lightning speed, seizing her wrists and pinning them to the ground.
Buffy fought him wordlessly, furiously, but could get no leverage to free
herself, his weight trapping her beneath him. Finally, after what
seemed like an eternity, she stilled, her chest heaving. There was
a long pause and then an emotion he did not recognize flickered across
...and everything changed. Slowly, purposefully, she shifted,
arching upwards just a little. Just enough. And Spike caught
fire. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Desire was suddenly
coursing through him like an inferno, answering the change in her mood,
while the air around them seemed to crackle with electricity.
The Slayer sensed it too. No longer struggling, she stared sightlessly
up at him while the tip of her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip.
Spike groaned. Then her legs slid slowly upwards, bending at the
knees, her inner thighs caressing his hips, and he could take no more.
His self-control completely gone now, he lowered his head and met her lips
with his own, roughly forcing them apart with his tongue. After a
moment, he let go of her left hand to seize her by the hair, tilting her
head back so that he could deepen the kiss.
He could die happy now, Spike thought distantly as the Slayer's tongue
entwined with his. He could turn to dust tomorrow and still be a
happy man. Her free arm had slid around his back, pulling him even
closer, and she was writhing beneath him, her hips grinding against his
own. 'A very happy man...'
Which was when he became aware of it. Distantly at first, then
more urgently he realized that something was poking into his back.
Something sharp. The haze surrounding him receded a little and he
recognized it for what it was. A wooden stake.
Spike broke the kiss abruptly, pulling back enough to gaze down at the
Slayer. She stared blankly back up at him, her lips slightly swollen
from his kiss and the echoes of passion still radiating from her eyes...but
the hand holding the stake at his back was motionless and there was a hint
of ice behind the passion...
Spike froze. And remembered. After the fight with the demon
he had picked up the stake. It was in the coat. She was wearing
the coat. Meaning she was armed. And blind. And confused.
And severely hacked off, from what he could tell.
A long moment passed in which neither of them moved, then Spike swallowed
and said carefully: "You don't want to do that, pet. I helped
She frowned, as if trying to recall but not quite succeeding.
He tried again. "Remember the demon? In the cemetery?
I helped you kill it." He softened his voice even further.
"I saved your life. Brought you back and wrapped up your arm for
Her frown deepened and she moved her left arm slightly, as if testing
the truth of his words. Spike's mouth went dry at the feel of the
stake sliding across his back and a tremor went through him, despite himself.
The Slayer felt it, her eyes flickering back up to meet his own, even though
she could see nothing. There was confusion in her face now and an
odd blankness, as if she were still asleep. But he was getting through
to her, he could tell. He only had to keep talking...
"Come on, Buffy. Put the stake down, love."
* * *
Buffy. It was the sound of her name that finally brought the Slayer
back to complete awareness. When she had first emerged from the dream...it
was like she hadn't truly been awake. Or as if her body had been
on auto-pilot. She had known, in a distant, detached way what she
was doing, but it was almost as if someone -- or something -- else had
been pulling the strings. Something primitive and violent.
Something she had encountered once before, also in a dream. The Slayer.
The first Slayer.
Buffy shuddered, then fought the reaction down. No. Don't
think about it. Focus on the here and now, rather than on the what-ifs.
That was what Giles had taught her. Concentrate on what she could
see...hear...feel, and worry about the rest later.
OK. See. Nothing. Hear. Her own heavy breathing
and racing heart. Feel. Hard, slightly damp earth beneath her.
And...someone laying on top of her. Completely on top of her.
Spike. Recognition came with a shock, like a bucket of cold water
being thrown over her, and the last of the cobwebs in her mind cleared
instantly. Spike was laying full length on top of her, one
of his hands tangled in her hair, the fingers of his other entwined with
hers. Both of her legs were wrapped tightly around him and... Oh.
Aroused Spike. Very aroused Spike. And it all came flooding
back to her...
He had kissed her. And she had kissed him back. With enthusiasm.
And major tongue action. She had kissed him. Kissed
Spike. Buffy blinked. What the hell was she thinking?
And, for that matter, why was she still just laying here beneath him, not
Well, she couldn't answer the first question, but she could definitely
do something about the second. Tightening her jaw, she said, as firmly
as she could. "Get off."
Buffy felt some of the tension ease from the vampire -- No! That's
all wrong. There will be no relaxing on top of Buffy! -- then he
leaned forward a little and said, a mocking edge to his voice:
"Love to pet, but in case you hadn't noticed, you're the one who's all
wrapped around me."
That was true. She still had both legs around him and her left
arm was curled up around his body, holding him close to her -- and holding
a stake on him.
Spike stirred slightly, drawing her attention back to his lower body.
"You planning on using that Slayer?" he said. "'Cause if not, I know
a lot better uses for that hand..."
That did it. Buffy shoved him away, untangling herself hastily
from the vampire. Then she clawed her way back to a sitting position
and transferred the stake to her right hand, wincing at the pain in her
left as she did so. "You're a pig, Spike," she hissed. "Just
stay the hell away from me."
She could almost see the taunting grin she knew would be on his face.
"Hey, you're the one who had your tongue down my throat! Not that
I'm complaining, mind you, but just so we're clear on who was doing what
Yeah, right. "You kissed me first!" she said furiously.
"Well...yeah." A pause. "So you do remember it all then?"
His weight pressing into her...his lips on hers, rough and hard...raw,
sexual energy consuming her... Oh yeah. She remembered it.
All of it. And it was disturbing on practically every level.
Spike? Wanting and needing Spike? What was that about?
She had a boyfriend. And there was nothing within her that was even
remotely attracted to Spike. There. Just. Wasn't.
In the end, Buffy fell back on denial. "I am not going to talk
about this," she said firmly, trying to calm her racing mind. "In
fact, I am not even going to think about this. Ever, ever again.
It so did not happen."
"Fine." She heard him climb to his feet then move towards her.
"I'm gonna help you up. Don't stake me." Was that a hint of
anger she heard in his voice? But then his hands were on her and
he was pulling her to her feet...and all thoughts of what happened between
them faded as pain took their place.
It hurt less now, Buffy realized, but that wasn't saying a lot.
Her arm still felt as though...well, as though it had been clawed by a
demon. It was bandaged, she noticed, and the bleeding seemed to have
stopped, but even the slightest movement was enough to set waves of agony
crashing across her body. For a moment the world spun and she swayed.
If she hadn't been blind she would have been seeing spots, she knew.
Despite her best intentions, her knees began to buckle.
* * *
Spike saw the Slayer start to fall and cursed under his breath...then
he reached out and caught her, holding her tightly against his chest.
'Why me?' he thought as he held her. 'Why do I have to sodding care?'
The old Spike would have just let her fall. Hell, the old Spike would
never have been in this position in the first place. For a moment
he yearned for the old days, before the Initiative, before the implant
in his head, before he ever came to Sunnydale... He had been happy
back then with Dru, wreaking havoc on the world, doing what he wanted,
when he wanted...to whom he wanted.
Now though...now he was reduced to this. Living off discarded
butcher's blood. Following the Slayer around night after night just
to catch a glimpse of her. Risking unlife and limb for her.
Sod it. Who was he kidding? It was enough to just be here
like this, holding her so up she wouldn't fall on her stupid Slayer face.
Enough to know that it was him she needed, even if it was just for now.
And as for the kiss... There had been something there,
something real, no matter how much she might try to deny it. They
had both felt the heat. It had been fire and sunlight, all...
Oh god. Poetry. He was bloody thinking in poetry now.
That was... He was...
Continued in Part 7
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