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Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh
 
17: Lust not Love
 
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Author's Note:   I thought I had finished this collection of secret meetings, but suddenly I remembered a few more that needed to be recorded!


Lust not Love

 

The sunlight hit her face as she walked away from Spike's crypt. She raised her eyes and let it flood into her brain, willing it to burn away all the doubts, the double thinking, all the memories.

 

"Buffy!"  Spike's voice, hoarse, almost unrecognisable - except she knew in her heart that she would hear it amongst thousands - stopped her.  She hesitated, forcing her feet to move forward, away from the temptation, the addiction that was this vampire.  And failed.

 

"Why did you call me William?"

 

She didn't mean to turn round; she didn't even know she had until she was staring at the face that had haunted her dreams for so long.  The devastation in his eyes made swift, deep, aching cuts in the shield of righteousness she'd put up around her.   “I...I don’t know. Does it matter?  Whatever I call you, I’m still using you. Like a drug, that's what you are. One I'm determined to cut out of my life. Just like Willow has to cut out using magic all the time.”

 

He stood in the shadow of the doorway; one more step and he, too, would be out in the sunlight. But not for long, of course.  For one dreadful moment, Buffy could see the thought cross his mind and knew that once again, Slayer and vampire were locked into the same circle, their minds working as one.

 

“Using me?  What does that mean, for hell’s sake? You have feelings for me!   You always have, right from the very beginning. Look me in the face and tell me you don’t!”

 

A tiny crack formed in her defenses as heat roared through her body.  “Feelings?  Yes, I have feelings.  I’m not like that wretched sex robot you had built!  I don’t know why. It’s wrong, it’s always been wrong. I’ve always known that. I’ve tried to forget. Pretended some things never happened.  But of course, I knew they had.  Then I came back and - and - I can’t even begin to tell you what that was like. Feeling nothing. Nothing at all!  No joy, no hate, no pain. Living every minute of every day, wishing I was somewhere else.  But then - then you made me feel alive again and for that I’ll always be grateful - ”

 

“I don’t want your bloody gratitude!  I want you.”

 

Buffy shut her eyes and swayed slightly, fighting the wrong, treacherous desire to throw herself into his arms that was widening the cracks in her defences as every second passed.  “Spike - I am grateful - but don’t you see, can’t you see - that isn’t love.  Feelings, lust, desire, none of them is love.  They’re all strong, powerful emotions, they consume me - OK - I admit it. There!  Is that what you want to hear. That I lust after you.  But that’s all it is.  You haven’t got a soul.  I can’t really love someone who isn’t human.  I won’t!”

 

“Did you love Angel?”

 

A flare of bright hot anger and the crack widened into a chasm - “Oh, don’t start with the jealous vampire crap!  I was young, silly. How can you bring Angel into the argument?”

 

Spike laughed; a bitter sound that grated across Buffy’s nerves. “Oh it’s an argument now, is it, pet?  Well, an argument means two different points of view, listening to all sides, not just telling someone that you’re finished with them because your poxy conscience tells you to.”

 

“I - do - not - love - you!  Is that clear enough?”

 

“Yes, you do.”

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

For a long second the two of them stood, glaring at each other.  If another beat of time had passed, perhaps they would have burst into laughter, the sense of humour that struck them at the worst of times would have triumphed.  But Buffy stepped forward, fist clenched, her defences finally crumbled to nothing, furiously aiming a punch at the vampire’s face.  And Spike’s outflung hand caught her wrist and pulled her into his arms. His hands caged her face and his mouth plundered hers as she struggled violently to escape his hold.

 

Then, with a little moan, all her resistance vanished.  This was Spike, this was the very last time she would touch him. She was giving up so much and even as she drove her body against his, tugging at his T shirt, knowing that this was so very wrong, she gloried in the way he made her feel.  But even as he entered her and the rough stone floor of the crypt grazed her back, she knew that this angry coupling was out of desperation on this side and selfishness on hers.

 

They didn’t speak, the groans and screams, growls and gasps echoed around the crypt until at last the two of them fell apart, exhausted.  At last Buffy rolled to her feet, and pulled on her clothes.  “You see,” she whispered. “Just lust.”

 

Spike watched her go. He longed to beg, plead, implore, anything to make her see that she was wrong.  How could what they had just done be bad?  He didn’t understand.  For one moment, he thought she’d changed her mind.  Why make love with him if she didn’t have real feelings?

 

As the door to the crypt swung shut with a click that sounded like the final lock to the portals of hell, he muttered, “I can still make you love me, Buffy Summers.  I know I can!”

 

tbc 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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