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Wiping The Slate Clean by ya_lublyu_tebya
 
Giving In
 
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Giving In


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She gasped awake and sat up, clutching the covers to her chest, her body half-convinced that the touch she had dreamt had been real. Taking long, deep breaths, she settled back on her pillows, staring at the ceiling. This feeling wasn’t going away, she recognised that now. She could try to ignore it, try to avoid the vampire- but nothing was getting rid of this yearning inside her. She wanted him and it scared her.

Even before the memory loss, they had been close and that kiss they had shared after the singing had shaken her more than she had let on to him. She had gone for an instinctive defensive response, trying to pretend it meant nothing. But then there had been that spell and she had been so in tune with him, and now… Before the spell, she had wanted to forget their one kiss and had almost succeeded, but now she couldn’t close her eyes without reliving every second of their time together.

And it wasn’t just sleeping together that had her so antsy. He had been everything to her for those four days: friend, confidant, lover. She remembered his comforting embrace, his soft, hesitant kisses, and let out an unconscious sigh. She knew before the spell there was no way she would have been considering what she now was. Before the spell, she had been hung up on appearances and what her friends thought of her. Funny what a few days of objectivity could do for you. In four days she had seen just how petty her friends were; how easily they would lie to her, deceive her; how convinced they were that they knew what was best for her. And Spike… well, objectivity did strange things. Under the influence of that spell, he had been nothing like the Spike she had long hated- even though nothing had been stopping him. He had known he was a vampire, but somehow he had also known that he did not kill. And he hadn’t even tried.



Before her mind could quite catch up, she was throwing herself out of bed and pulling on the first clothes she could find. She paused for a moment in front of the mirror, brushed her hair back from her face, and then made her way out of the house- glad that Dawn was staying at her friend’s. In no time, she was across town and slipping through the gates of Restfield, spotting Spike’s crypt- and she hardly knew how she had got here. All she knew was that she needed to see him, to talk to him- to see if what they had shared during those four days had been real or just a product of the spell.

Her stomach was churning with nervousness as she reached his crypt and pushed the door open, making her way in quietly. It was night but she was well aware of Spike’s recent lack of nocturnal habits and so hoped to find him at home. She could sense him straight away and with a look that confirmed he was not upstairs, her eyes went to the hole in the floor. She hesitated for a moment before heading for the ladder and climbing down it carefully, taking a deep breath just before she rounded the corner.

She moved round the corner- and almost collided with Spike, the baseball bat in his hand stopping inches from her face.

“Buffy.”

He stepped back and she took a shaky breath, giving him a weak smile.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked in bewilderment, moving to place the bat down, “Oh. Got a demon problem?”

“No,” she answered and he paused, frowning at her in confusion.



Now that she was here, she was not entirely sure what to say and she bit her lip nervously, looking at everything but the vampire.

“Buffy?”

She raised her gaze to the vampire’s and felt a rush at the look of affection he failed to hide.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she blurted out in a rush and he raised an eyebrow, partly amused.

“In the middle of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered with an embarrassed shrug.

He raised his eyebrow again and gave her a half smile as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed. She really took him in then and gave a tiny smile at his bare feet even as her heart sped up at the sight of his half-buttoned shirt. His hair was messy and several strands were escaping from the hold of his gel- but he looked relaxed, a look she didn’t think she’d ever seen on Spike before.

“Buffy?” he called, and she realised she had been staring at him- and that she had not spoken.

“Erm… do you mind if I sit?” she asked, stalling more than anything.

With another surprised look, he shook his head and she moved to sit next to him on the bed, unable to stop a vivid image of what they had shared in this bed from crossing her mind. She turned to him and smiled slightly, twiddling her hands nervously. She looked away again when he arched an eyebrow at her and turned her gaze to the room.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” she commented.



He chuckled and she turned to him in surprise.

“Telling me you came here in the middle of the night to talk about my décor?”

“Well… no…” she got out embarrassedly.

His eyes met hers, his gaze turning serious.

“What then?”

“I…” she trailed off, having no idea what she wanted to say. His closeness wasn’t exactly helping her think clearly either. She got to her feet once more, not missing his amused look as she began to pace slightly.

“Well, I… the thing is… I was thinking…”

She trailed off and growled at herself for being such an idiot. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake. She stopped in front of the bemused vampire and forced herself to meet his gaze.

“I was thinking about what happened… between us.”

If he had been surprised before, now he was dumbfounded and he went completely still, his mouth gaping slightly. Having to tear her eyes away from his, she dropped her gaze to her hands.

“What happened was… being with you was-“

“A mistake. I know.”

Her head snapped up and she frowned.

“You thought it was a mistake?” she asked quietly and his eyes flew to hers, full of confusion.

“I- No. But, Buffy, you… you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered in answer, shaking her head slightly. He rose to his feet then, stopping just inches from her, his eyes ablaze as he looked down at her.

“Buffy, what are you saying?”



She ducked her head, unable to hold his gaze, and took a deep breath.

“Being with you was… amazing,” she whispered, forcing her gaze back to his as she spoke the last.

“Buffy,” he breathed in awe, his eyes flooding with love.

“I don’t even just mean the… you know,” she murmured, meeting his gaze boldly now, “Every day I just… You made me feel safe.”

She gave him a shaky smile and reached out to rest her hand on his arm, unable to go any longer without touching him.

“No-one’s ever made me feel safe like that before. That’s usually my job, you know?” she commented with a crooked smile.

He said nothing, but she saw him swallow hard, his eyes searching her face as if he couldn’t quite believe her.

“What I said that night is still true now. I feel lost… except when I’m with you.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, meeting his bright gaze, and swallowed hard.

“Then everything makes sense,” she whispered, leaning up and brushing her lips against his.

He was completely still for a few seconds, but then he was kissing her, his arms winding round her and pulling her against him- their kiss quickly turning hungry. His mouth dropped to her neck and she clung to him, hands twisting in his shirt as he pressed soft kisses to her skin.

“Oh, Buffy,” he murmured, “My sweet, darling girl.”

Her heart was pounding in her ears now as she went limp against him, relying on him to keep her on her feet.



He pulled away, his eyes fixing on her with a look of such hunger.

“Buffy,” he murmured, raising one hand to her hair and brushing over it gently. She closed her eyes at his touch and her lips parted helplessly.

Now she had given in, she knew there would be no going back and when his lips found hers again, she drew him close, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He guided her gently backwards and lowered her to the bed, following her and hovering over her. She saw the hesitation in his eyes and reached up to trace her fingers over his cheek, loving the way he moved into her touch, his eyes closing briefly.

“Spike,” she whispered, drawing his gaze to hers, “I want you.”

His eyes darkened and she smiled ever so slightly as he dipped his head and caught her mouth in a passionate kiss. Her hands slid down to his front and she began to undo the few fastened buttons on his shirt, pushing it aside to run her hands over the hard planes of his chest.

Supporting himself on one hand, his mouth teasing her with sensuous kisses, he slid one hand down her side and under her top, his hand cool against her burning skin. She gasped at the feel of his skin and wriggled out of her top, anxious to feel skin against skin. She pulled his mouth back to hers, deepening it instantly and running her hands down his chest to his jeans, her fingers fumbling with his belt. He caught her hands though and pinned them above her head, giving her a heated look before dipping his head and teasing her with a soft kiss, before moving to leave a trail of kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.

Closing her eyes, succumbing to him and arching her back as his cool mouth slid over her, his hard body pressed against hers, she knew that what she had quickly figured out first time round was definitely true: sex with Spike was always going to be mind-blowing.


 
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