Black, White And The Grey In Between By PassionFish



A/N: Each part begins with the part number, a reference to whose thoughts the part revolves around and then its title.



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Chpt6 -- Buffy


Dancing....





Ohmygod!

Ohmygod!

Ohmygod!

We're dancing.

He's touching me.

Holding me.

Well, his arms are loosely draped around me.

We're not really touching.

Not really...but....

His hands feel cold but they're warming me.

Inside.

The song changes…

The base is deeper…the beat throbbing…the world… sexier.

I don't want to pull away, but I should, sooo...

"Come 'ere, love."

Oh god, no one should have that sexy a voice.

His hands slide securely around my waist, sending shivers through me.

I hear him growl as he pulls me close.

I feel like I'm touching every part of him.

I can feel the play of the muscles down his body through his clothes as he moves us to the music.

One hand is just resting atop the swell of my bum, the other in between my shoulder blades; he's anchoring me to him.

Like he's afraid to let go.

There’s a heavy pulsating beat rolling around the room and I can feel my body echo it as we rock back and forth to the music.

It's nice.

Tender.

Erotic.

…

I wonder why he came here tonight.

I know we were meant to meet but it’s not like we finalised it … like a date or anything.

More like an unspoken agreement.

So why is he here?

I ask him.

"Angelus."

I stiffen.

I can't help it.

It’s reaction.

It’s automatic.

It’s fear.

"Dru said he was coming to play with me?"

"Yeah."

He growled the word, fury in every letter.

"We have to get of here then, too many people around."

Slayer brain on.

No time for anything else.

No time to worry.

No time to feel.

No time to fear.

"Okay, pet, get your stuff."

I nod and turn away, read to move off when he pulls me back…

…and kisses me.

It's soft really, gentle.

His mouth moves slowly over mine.

Teasing my lips open.

I read that in a book once.

He lifts his head and presses another kiss to my forehead, pushing me in the right direction.

Right.

Business Buffy.

Oz has arrived but the others are nowhere to be seen.

Good.

It's easier to tell him I'm going.

He just accepts it.

He looks calm.

Stoic.

That’s what I need.

Calm and Focus.

I grab my coat and head over to where Spike is standing.

"Showtime."





Chpt7 -- Spike

Forget...





She's not crying.

Not anymore.

She seems almost peaceful now.

She fell asleep about twenty minutes after the plane had taken off.

She was very tired.

But the sedative I put in her drink helped.

Well, we didn't have to wait for Acathla.

Angelus changed the game plan.

Had a body dumped on her door-step for when we got back…don’t rightly remember the chit’s name…

But Buffy knew her.

Apparently the wanker never gave up the whole freaky stalker attitude.

He wasn't expecting me to be her dance partner.

Neither was Dru.

We're on our way to Canada.

I had, have, a house up there, somewhere...

I'll deal with it once we're there.

Angelus is dust.

Since we're not floating around in molten lava, I think its safe to say Acathla's still just a big rock.

I don't know where Dru is.

She was there, and then she wasn't.

Fucking weird, I tell you.

Had no time to dwell on it though since I had a devastated Slayer on my hands.

I think it’s less the fact that she'd killed him....

The prick had certainly made it easy for her.

The shit spewing from his mouth....

I can feel myself begin to change, but stop when Buffy nuzzles me in her sleep, reminding me of where we are.

She didn't tell anyone.

Didn't want to.

Just wanted to leave.

So we did.

I'm sure Canada's nice this time of year.

We just need time.... to forget.

Just forget.





Chpt8 -- Buffy


Moving...





I heard this song on the radio today.

Not even sure what it’s called.

It was all about a mobile home.

No, wait - not an ACTUAL mobile home but a girl who was always moving from place to place.

Never really making any ties – just moving – always moving…

That's me now.

I don't mind so much.

Huh! I think Spike's taken it upon himself to show me the world…

Four months now.

That’s how long we've been away from Sunnydale.

I can't even say home.

I don't think I ever thought of it like that, anyway, even when it was good…

Not that it was ever good for very long.

We stayed five weeks in Canada.

I only remember the second.

He kept me safe though.

Fed and watered, as Mom would say.

The forth week was nice.

Better.

He was sweet.

That’s all he is to me these days.

I hate to think about it but I know why.

I think he has left over looking-after vibes from Dru.

God! I hate her.

I hate that I know he thinks about her…

I hate that I know she’s the reason he looks after me…

But, fuck it; I need someone to look after me for a bit.

The night before we left for Australia (by boat) he took me out.

I'd been cooped up for ages, just moping around the TV and fridge.

We went to the local cinema.

I say local, but it was about a fifty-mile drive!

When we got back it had snowed.

I don't know what made me throw the first ball, but after that it was full out war!

No quarter given or asked.

I smile at the memory.

After three weeks in Australia…

(Which I think, given the copious quantities of sun, was more due to my 'too cold' comments then Spike's endeerance to the country –

-- having said that he had another house there…so I don’t know)

…It was Italy for four more.

We're now in the South of France.

It's our last night…

It's bloody ridiculous.

I'm even thinking in the plural.

And I'm saying bloody!

I feel silly sometimes, like it’s all too surreal.

He's my best friend.

And I always wanted to see the world.

So I'm not ready to return.

Not yet.

Just a few more weeks.

Of paradise.

Our paradise.





Chpt8a -- Spike

Buffy Things...




She bites her nails.

She hides it too.

It’s...cute.

Also for a girl who has been around murder and violence for the past two or three years it’s fucking hilarious that she gets scared shitless

when she sees a spider about the size of a pea…

And won't sit back down until it’s gone.

Or let me sit back down.

…

She cries at old movies.

Since television started the only female I've been around is Dru and her version of emotion is slightly different from Buffy's.





Chpt8b -- Buffy

Spike things...





He reads poetry.

And he hides it.

It’s.... sweet.

Also, he keeps pig’s blood in our fridge, which is a little weird for a badass vamp to do.

Although, I think what’s worse is the fact that he crumbles weetabix up in it.

That’s not so sweet!

When he concentrates, his brow furrows just slightly, but the skin doesn't roll up.

It's like he has stretchy skin that has no effect on itself or its surroundings.

Oh, yeah...

He sings in the shower!





TBC...
A/N: Interested in your thoughts :)