Chapter Eight:




It had rarely rained in Sunnydale. Other than the drizzles of winter, she only remembered a couple of times when it had rained heavily. One of them was on what she had thought would be the best night of her life, followed by the worst day of her life. In Scotland, it was a different case. The weather was so unpredictable, and she had often been caught in a rainstorm, feeling the drops of water fall hard on her face only to slide down her throat and drench her clothes. Some would say that rain washed away pain, cleansed negative feelings, gave new hope. It was why she preferred standing on the sidewalk instead of shielding herself inside the nearby store.

Her clothes felt heavy as she let herself get soaked, and her lips parted slightly to make way for a few drops to enter. Her eyes were shut tight so she could focus on awaiting that feeling of excitement. She shivered slightly, knowing that standing in the rain when she had woken up this morning with a cold was a very bad idea. Her cold would probably get worse, but the thought didn’t do a thing to make her go inside. Even the sound of thunder didn't scare her or make her leave her place on the edge of the sidewalk.

Her ear caught a feminine giggle followed by a masculine laugh, both joyful, and she knew she didn't need to open her eyes to see the two lovers holding hands and running to wherever their hearts desired. A bitter smile rose onto her mouth at the thought of them standing in the middle of an empty street with their lips locked. When she was younger, she'd dreamed about being kissed in the rain. Even her magical night on her seventeenth birthday hadn't included that. She doubted this one would.

She hugged her sopping coat and listened to nothing but the comforting sound of rain. The wind that accompanied the precipitation didn't help to wash away the pain, because all it did was bring back the memories of today's events.

She had ditched Xander on another movie night, intentionally ignoring the disappointment that clouded his face as she left, only to find Spike ready for another break-in to Reem's latest hotel room. The disappointment had been reflected on Spike's face when she'd refused to accompany him inside. She had decided to wait for him outside and promised that at any sign of emergency, she would be there.

And then it rained.

Families and lovers had shielded themselves with their umbrellas, and walked the streets laughing in spite of the weather. People who hadn't expected it to rain ran toward their cars and drove away. Other than the passing lovebirds, she had been standing alone in the deserted street for some time now, seeing nothing but the darkness behind her eyelids.

She stood in silence for a few minutes before her eyes shot open at the sound of gunfire that disturbed the rhythm of the drips. Her head snapped toward the building, but she saw nothing. She wanted to walk to the hotel entrance but her feet were glued to the ground. What if she were caught helping Spike break in to a hotel guest's room? What would happen when the police found out? She swallowed a lump as she thought of her Slayers suffering the consequences and her heart dropped at the thought of Andrea and Xander suffering as well. She already put herself and everybody else under her charge in danger. She could not get herself caught. Not after that incident inside that other hotel.

But when she looked up at the windows of the hotel rooms, she couldn't bear to leave Spike without backup.

She found her feet shifting as they took her toward the doorway, and then felt an irrational fear that the security guards of this hotel would recognize her as a criminal. Then she remembered Spike's plan to go in from the back entrance to avoid questions; they had assumed that Reem had probably left descriptions of them with the security guards and reception desk.

Changing her path, she recalled Spike's look of displeasure mingled with suspicion as she had refused to go in with him. He hadn't said a thing, just snuck his way into the hotel and left her standing alone, feeling nothing. She had come to a point where others' disappointment barely had an effect on her anymore, and yet, she still tried to hide her transgressions. Could it have anything to do with the whole inferiority complex caused by having a superiority complex thing?

At another sound of gunfire, Buffy whirled around, startled at its close proximity. It was then she saw Spike running like a flash in the heavy rain. She didn't go unnoticed by him, because he stopped behind a bush and called out for her to leave. The gun kept firing, but she didn't look around for it; her survival instincts made her run toward the bush where Spike was hiding. They knelt there, side by side, scanning the area but seeing nothing because of the fog.

He pulled aggressively on her arm. "C'mon." They ran away through the rain that invaded her eyes. She heard the sound of gunshots again and imagined that a bullet hit her. It had once; it would have killed her if it hadn't been for Willow. This time Willow wasn't around, so she would definitely be dead. She quickened her pace after that notion.

Her eyes tried to focus on Spike as much as they could. She followed because she couldn't bring herself to lead. Drops of rain spilled on her face as the slaps of the past had drawn streaks in which the drops of rain steered, gathering before sliding to her neck. A shiver overtook her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Spike slipped into a small, sheltered alley and stood there. She was grateful for that because she felt her heart about to explode from beating too fast. She folded her arms around her trembling body and sneezed a little before gazing to her left at the outlines of the road. Ancient buildings stood with pride under the torrential rain, looking like a famous painting she thought she had once seen. She leaned against the wall and took deep breaths as water from her hair and body dripped onto the ground, forming a small puddle of water at her feet. She leaned forward a little and placed a hand on her chest where she felt the violent beating of her heart.

Spike let out a curse she'd never heard before. Details about the shooting and their escape from the hotel were of no interest to her at the moment. "You failed?" she asked between heavy inhales.

"No," he muttered, and then she could hear the mirth in his voice when he added, "Stole her passport."

Her back was still curved forward and her hand still held to her heart, afraid it would fall out of her chest with the way it was throbbing. She didn't stop shivering, and the few drizzles that managed to hit her face -even though she was technically sheltered by the alley- felt far more annoying than when she was standing directly in the rain.
She clutched her wet coat with her left hand while trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

Spike came to stand by her side, his eyes narrowed as if trying to figure out which street they were on. His arm brushed lightly against her and her throbbing heart pounded even faster. She put a wet lock of hair behind her ear, not just because it was annoying on her damp cheek, but also because she wanted her elbow to brush against Spike's side.

Her clumsy action spoke of her intention, because Spike turned to her with furrowed brows. His mouth twitched as if he was about to ask an obvious question.

Abruptly, she grabbed him by the shirt and threw him outside the refuge of the alley. Her breath caught in her lungs when he looked at her, stunned, and was about to curse. He never got to, because she threw her body on his and then they were kissing in the rain.

Spike broke the kiss unexpectedly, pushing her off of him. "No, Buffy."

She panted, staring at him desperately.

His eyes screamed with a desire that his voice lacked. "Are you sure?"

She leaned down, her lips on his again, and cradled his head possessively in both hands. She felt thrilled when Spike's lips parted.

The rain fell on their bodies first and then splashed on the hard ground. One of her hands slipped down, passing by his silky neck to the buttons of his shirt. It was harder to unbutton a wet shirt but she didn't give up. One button down. Meanwhile, her other hand slid between the strands of his hair, half gelled, half smooth, and pushed his head closer, forcing his nose to crash against hers.

Shrugging off her coat, she pushed him down until he was lying flat on the hard ground and moved on his body in an inconsonant rhythm. His fingers worked on the buttons of her shirt, careful not to lose control and rip the material off her body. She had no such patience as she shredded the last two buttons and freed his upper body completely. Her breasts smacked onto his solid chest while each one of them worked on the other's pants. Soon they met skin to skin, reviving old passionate memories.

She flung her head away, breaking the long kiss, in a manner that caused her wet hair to bounce back before hitting the back of her neck. She exhaled and felt the water cascade down her naked body. She was lighter without her wet clothes, not cold at all, and then she leaned over him and plunged her tongue inside his already parted mouth, exploring each little corner of it.

Her mind had a picture of them, two naked bodies finding each other in the rainfall. It had been a long time since she'd felt this close to someone -her experience with Xander didn't count because she wasn’t lucid through the whole process. It was as wild and fulfilling as she remembered. It brought out emotions in her she'd never felt back in those days. She was different. Not that girl anymore.

Feeling his tongue, her hand moved to the lower part of his body, between his thighs. He groaned in pleasure and she smiled into the kiss. She backed away with a gasp, looking straight into his eyes.

She froze.

His eyes were filled with distinctive lust, a wolfish hungry type of lust. Sure, her past sexual encounters with him constantly included that, but always accompanied by passionate love and devotion. Now, Spike's eyes screamed pure lust and nothing more. The way he bit her lips and the way his tongue attacked her stunned lifeless mouth all felt mechanical.

It was then she realized that she wasn't the only one who had changed. Ever since they had met here in Edinburgh, there was something off about them. It all made sense now, how Buffy kept running to Spike in thirst but instead of being filled, she came back home sucked dry. It was not like it used to be. The spark they used to have barely existed anymore. It scared her.

Spike drew back from the kiss and looked at her in frustration. "Don't stop," he gritted out, closing an eye when it was hit by a heavy drop of water. He pulled her to him forcefully and they were kissing again. As she sucked on his lower lip, with less enthusiasm now, she reflected on what they had back in Sunnydale. Their affair -or whatever it was when they were meeting at night to lose themselves in destructive, passionate sex- was never a relationship, but when she put them together, they were definitely an 'it.'

And, right now, it felt empty.


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