Chapter Twenty-One #203 Crumpled Paper


"You are going to tell me what you said to him!" Buffy's voice preceded her into the apartment, causing the people there to sit up and stare at the door. When Spike appeared behind her, holding the door open for her to sweep into the room, they all gave varyingly sincere sighs of relief and settled back in their seats.

"So, you survived the night, I see," Giles said.

"Did," Spike said shortly. "Plan to survive a lot more of them, in case any of you were wonderin'." He looked right at Xander as he spoke.

Xander jumped slightly as he was kicked under the table. He gave Anya a glare, but she pointed at Willow, who smiled sheepishly. With another glare, he stood up and walked over to Buffy and Spike. His eyes shifted back and forth between them, finally settling on a spot just over Buffy's shoulder.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot off my mouth like that, and I shouldn't have called Angel. I'm just glad Willow got there in time to interrupt me and—"

Buffy looked at Giles. "You didn't tell him?" Giles shook his head.

"No. They just got here and I hadn't decided whether to tell them about Angel's phone calls, or to wait and see if he showed up last night."

"Oh," Buffy said, coming into the room and waiting for Spike to sit in the big chair so that she could sit on his lap. "Well, he did. He took a helicopter and got here way before we thought he would."

"So, he found you first, then?" Giles frowned. "I wondered why he never showed up here."

"He found us," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

"And yet you both appear to be quite healthy and in one piece..."

"Yeah. It was touch and go there for a minute, but we got him to calm down, and then Spike talked to him and then he said, 'Okay' and then he left." Buffy beamed and leaned back against Spike's chest, rubbing her thumb across the arm he had draped across her stomach.

There were several minutes of incomprehensible and competing comments and questions before Giles finally held up his hand for silence. When the noise had trailed off and Spike and Buffy were facing expectant eyes, he nodded to them

"An explanation might be quite useful here," Giles said with a trace of impatience.

"That's what I keep telling him, but he's being stubborn." Buffy tilted her head back to glare at Spike who was smirking back at her. "Says he'll tell me when I'm ready to hear it, or some such crap"

"We're ready to hear it," Willow said to accompanying murmurs of agreement.

"Not for your ears," Spike said easily. "Not unless and until Buffy wants to share it."

"Buffy can't share it!" she growled. "Buffy doesn't know it yet."

Giles stared at them thoughtfully, then got up and began scanning his bookshelves.

"Won't find it there, Watcher," Spike said quietly. "Much as the Council of Wankers knows about my kind, they don't know everything. Some things are still between vampires."

"Actually," Giles said, still scanning the shelves, "I was looking for a small volume that Heloise has lent me. I hadn't had time to look over it before, but I suspect now might be a good time."

Spike snorted. "Like that watcher wannabe had anything but pure drivel in her 'library'."

"Not quite everything was drivel, Mr. Pratt," Giles said with a sideways glance to see Spike's response. He wasn't disappointed when the vampire sat up so quickly he almost dumped Buffy onto the floor. Giles smiled and pulled a slender book from a shelf "Ah, here it is. The early research upon which the published version of Lydia Chalmer's thesis on William the Bloody was based. Written by her great-grandmother when she was working for the council as a researcher."

He grinned at Spike's paler than usual face. "It seems that Heloise and Ms. Chalmers are distant cousins who share a family interest in vampires. One specific vampire in particular..."

Buffy jumped off Spike's lap, easily breaking his limp hold on her. "Ooooh, let me see it!"

With a strangled "No!" Spike lunged for her, falling to the floor when she easily evaded his grab. The Scoobies were treated to the sight of the vampire they had feared for so long lying on his back, arm over his eyes, moaning, "Just stake me now."

"You know," Xander remarked to anyone who was listening, "ordinarily I'd be all over that, but the entertainment value of watching Spike trying to disappear into the rug far outweighs the satisfaction I'd get from staking him..."

A muffled growl was as much complaint as Spike could muster before he sat up to try to salvage something from the situation. He saw that Buffy had the book in her hands and was rapidly flipping through the pages, pausing frequently to say, "Really?" or "Seriously?" as she found something interesting.

"Com'on, love," he pleaded. "You know that silly bint – no offense, Watcher," he added as he remembered that Giles now had something of a social relationship with Professor Inkfel – "believes everything she's told. Bet old great-gramma was just the same. Books probably full of lies and exaggerations..." His voice trailed off helplessly as Buffy just raised her eyebrows at him and went back to reading.

Spike gave a resigned sigh and went back to the chair, slouching down in it and shutting his eyes, which snapped open when Buffy said, "What's this?"

She was holding a piece of discolored paper in her hand, straining to read the faded ink upon it.

"What is it?" Willow's curiosity was finally getting the best of her and she came up to peer over Buffy's shoulder. "It looks like some sort of poetry... What is that word there? It looks like eff...effil...eep!" She flinched at Spike reached past her and snatched the paper from Buffy's hand, then retreated to his chair, crumpling it and putting it in his pocket.

"Hey! Giles, are you going to let him do that? Isn't that, like, priceless or something?"

Not trying to hide his snickers, Giles said, "Well, technically, I suppose, it is his property. Apparently he dropped it the night he was turned and one of the servants found it. No matter," he said with a broad grin, "I believe the entire text of the... poem... appears later in the book."

Finally taking pity on Spike's obvious distress, Buffy put the book in her back pocket and went back to the chair.

"Come on, Wordsworth, let's go find something nasty to slay. Something tells me you have a lot of hostility to work out tonight."

~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, when Spike had wiped out two nests and helped Buffy stop a demon ritual of some sort, they stopped to sit on a bench near his crypt.

"Feel better?" she asked with a small smile, brushing her hand lightly over the bruise developing on his cheekbone.

"A bit," he said grudgingly. When she just continued to smile at him, he dropped his head onto the back of the bench, then rolled it toward her. "So, have you lost all respect for me now?"

Buffy shook her head. "I already knew that William was a gentleman. I just didn't know he was quite so..."

"Poncy?"

Buffy laughed. "I don't think I even know what that means – but whatever it is, I'm pretty sure you aren't it."

"William was," he admitted. "And when I'm around you, sometimes I...."

"I like your William," she confided. "He's very sweet and... loving."

"I'm not him anymore, pet. Haven't been for a very long time."

"Close enough," she whispered, sliding closer to him and nibbling on his earlobe. "I'm glad you're not really him. I like a little monster in my man."

"How about a little monster in you" he replied, pulling her over to sit on his thighs facing him.

"How about a whole lot of monster in me?" she purred, rubbing herself against him.

"Shamless hussy," he said, standing up with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Disgusting pig," she retaliated. As he began walking towards his crypt, she amused herself with leaving kisses all over his neck and face. By the time they reached the double doors, they were both breathing hard. Spike yanked the outer door open, then kicked the inside one. Without stopping to close either one, he went straight to the rug covering the downstairs.

With a rueful laugh, Buffy unwrapped her legs and slid to the floor.

"As romantic as this is," she said, giving him a little shove towards the open door, "I really don't like the idea of leaving the doors open." While he ran over to close them both securely, she moved the rug and plywood from the entrance and peered down into the darkness. "I'm going to buy you a lamp," she muttered. "With a remote switch."

He came up behind and laughed softly into her ear. "But the candles are so much more romantic," he crooned.

"There is nothing romantic about jumping into a black hole and breaking my leg," she grumbled, waiting for him to release her and go light the candles.

Instead, he scooped her up again and dropped almost straight down, barely clearing the steep ladder. He deposited her on the bed, then pulled out his lighter. The 'snick' of the mechanism was immediately followed by a soft yellow light that illuminated the room. Spike hurriedly lit a few candles, then ran up the ladder to pull the concealing wood back into place. When he dropped back to the floor, he froze.

While he'd been working to give them light and privacy, Buffy had shed her clothes and was lying in the middle of the bed, her tanned flesh glowing gold in the flickering candlelight. Speechless, he began to take off his own clothes as he stalked toward her. He didn't pause when he reached the end of the bed, but climbed onto his hands and knees to crawl up her body until he was hovering over her.

"You look like a vision from a dream – something not of this earth and much too good for the likes of me. If I were still poncy William, I'd be composing a poem to you right now."

"Ooooh, I think I'd like that! Write me a poem, Spike."

He dropped from his hands and knees, earning a small "oof!" from Buffy, even as she put her arms around him and rubbed against his body.

"Is that a no?"

"Too bloody right it is," he growled, nestling his hips between her open thighs. "If you want poetry, I'll buy you a book."

"I want a William Pratt poem," she said with a mock pout. "Isn't that what you've got crumpled up in your pocket? A poem you wrote a long time ago?"

"Nothin' in that pocket but trash," he said. "Now can you stop talking about poetry and concentrate on what we're doing?"

"You brought it up—mmph!" Spike's lips put an end to the conversation, and Buffy forgot completely about the crumpled paper in his pocket as she fell into the kisses that she was afraid would be her undoing for the rest of her life.

When he slipped into her, she brought her legs up and locked her ankles behind his back, meeting him thrust for thrust as they went from banter to mutually satisfying orgasms within a very short period of time. Buffy grinned when she dropped her legs and shifted her weight, causing Spke to growl, "Where do you think you're going? We're not half done yet, Slayer."

"I know that," she said, flipping them over without losing contact with his still-hard cock. "I just wanted to get a different view." She smiled down at him, marveling at the soft, gentle expression on the face that could so easily turn into a monster's frightening mien. She sat up, moaning involuntarily when the action drove him deeper and she felt him twitch. "Oh, two can play at that game," she said, beginning a rhythmic squeezing that soon had him fighting to remain in his human face.

"Let it go," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips over his emerging canines. "Let me see you... Let me feel you...." She gasped as she felt him change inside her, suddenly thicker and more flexible than before. Spike grinned past his fangs.

"Remembered that, did you?" he asked, pushing against her interior nerves and evoking gasps and whimpers as he moved inside her. Buffy didn't answer him verbally, remaining in place and matching his invisible movements with her own powerful clenches. To an outside onlooker, it would have seemed that nothing was happening – the two nude lovers were simply enjoying a respite from more vigorous love-making. However, one look at Buffy's face and the ecstatic expression on it would have told a different tale. Her lower lip was clenched in her teeth and whimpers were building into louder cries.

Beneath her, Spike was forcing himself to remain immobile while his eyes rolled back in his head and a steady stream of growled obscenities came from his throat. When Buffy finally fell forward with a small shriek, he arched up into her and roared his own release.

For several minutes they remained locked together, Buffy lying sprawled atop him while he ran his hands lightly around her back. Eventually she gave a small sigh and raised her upper body, dropping a kiss on his chest as she did so.

"Still not done," he mumbled, his limp body and closed eyes making a liar of him.

"Maybe not," she agreed, giving him a parting squeeze before she rolled off and snuggled into his side, "but I have to go to classes tomorrow, and go to my mom's to do some laundry. You can sleep all day. I can't."

He rolled towards her and nuzzled her neck. "I'm sorry, pet. I'm jus' being selfish. Forgot you've got things you need to do in the daytime. Go to sleep. I'm just going to lie here and wonder what I ever did to deserve— Gonna watch you sleep. Just in case you're a dream and you try to disappear on me."

"Don't think I've forgotten about how you got Angel to leave without major bloodshed," she said, a yawn interrupting her stern reminder. "You need to tell me what happened there. One minute you're waving your arms around, I look away to slay a stupid vamp and it's suddenly all hunky-dory and Angel is telling us to take care of each other"

"It was vampire stuff, love. Family and ritual stuff that neither one of us has ever paid much attention to – me even less so than Angelus. But we know the rules, know the rituals. He's my grandsire. I just appealed to his sense of family and fairness."

He fastened his mouth upon the skin on her neck and began to suck gently, pausing to look at the new mark he'd put on her. "I promised him something – something in the far, far future – and he agreed that I could love you for as long as you'll have me."

"There's got to be more to it than that," she grumbled, unconsciously turning her head so that he could go back to sucking on her skin.

" 's all you need to know, love. If we ever— If it ever becomes important for you to know the rest of it, I promise I'll tell you... I promise..." He went back to the strangely soothing sucking and Buffy drifted off to sleep, if not any more knowledgeable, at least reassured that the two most important vampires in her life were not going to kill each other over her.

The end.