A/N: Beta'd by dawnofme and Mabel Marsters, the best betas ever.






This gorgeous piece of work was made by xaphania.


Chapter 30


Latching onto the last shreds of his courage, Spike opened his eyes and forced the demon to recede.


“Do you need more?”


He shot her a quick glance, confused at seeing concern on her face. “What?”


“Blood. Do you want more?”


“I… thank you, that would be… thank you.”


Their fingers brushed as she took the mug from his hand. A couple of microwave beeps later, Buffy was sitting next to him and handing him the full to the brim mug. He gulped it down as fast as possible, hating that she had too see his vampire face again. His demon melted away.


“Don’t.” She touched his face. “I want to see it.”


“Buffy…”


“Please?”


He never could deny her anything and stared at her through yellow eyes.


“You know… this doesn’t make you any less sexy.”


“Yeah, right.”


“I mean it.” She traced the scrunched line of his nose. “As handsome as ever.”


Spike snorted.


“Hey, woman here, which means I’m always right.”


“Wouldn’t dream of saying otherwise,” he said with a tentative smile.


Her eyes widened in wonder as his face shifted back right under her hand. “Wow, that was strange.”


“So you’re not repulsed then?”


“No. It’s wiggy, but it kind of makes me…” She blushed and squirmed under his heated gaze.


“Hot?”


“Yeah. Only you though! I don’t go around flirting with vamps because eww… major lack of hygiene for most of them.”


“It’s the Slayer in you, I suppose. Drawn to a vampire… makes sense. We’re from a similar mold, only on the opposite team.”


“Maybe it’s just because it’s… you.”


He smiled. “Maybe.”


They sat together in silence and he quietly observed her, feeling helpless as a small frown appeared on her forehead.


“Are you alright?”


She shrugged and forced a smile on her face but she wasn’t fooling him.


“How can I help?”


“Can you wake Faith up from the coma?”


“No, not really,” he said “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”


“Not your fault.”


He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “It’ll be fine, luv. You’ll see.”


She nodded and leveled him with a grateful look. “So, what about you? Do you feel any better?”


Before he could reply, her warm hands were drawing the hem of his t-shirt out of his jeans and she was touching his skin, probing his ribs to check if they were broken. He hissed and she drew back, obviously thinking she’d hurt him.


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”


“It’s fine. Doesn’t really hurt much, just a bit sore is all. Maybe if you cleaned the wounds on my back?” He gazed at her hopefully, missing her hands on him.


“Okay. I’ll just grab some stuff.”


As Buffy made her way from the bathroom, she barely avoided dropping the towels and a basin full of warm water when she noticed he’d stripped off his t-shirt. Even bruised, the sight of him almost made her trip over her own feet, and she blushed as she sat down next to him.


“Here I am, your very own Buffy nurse.”


He leered at her, twisting to face her fully and she kicked herself for the comment. She could practically see the sexual connotations running through his mind.


“Mmm… I know I’ll love to be in your capable hands, nurse Buffy,” he drawled, and she felt it all the way to her core.


Ducking her head in order to look at the towel as she soaked it with water seemed like a good avoiding technique. In theory. In reality, she could see his intense gaze burning through her and the proximity of his bare chest didn’t help the wild fluttering of her heart in the least.


“Umm… okay, I’ll just clean the wounds. I have some healing cream but… does it work on vampires?”


Spike tilted his head and bit his lips in thought. Oh, how she wanted to bite it for him instead.


“Don’t think so, luv. I can already feel the blood doing its work.”


She nodded. “Turn around. I’ll do your back.”


He did, and she winced at the sight of the deep lash marks criss-crossing the skin of his back. Hatred lanced through her as she gently traced the reddened area around the cuts.


“Why did they do it?”


He didn’t even bother pretending to not know who she was talking about.


“For the kicks.” He winced as she washed the dried blood from his sore skin. “Dru had one of her visions and… she saw you and me. They didn’t really fancy the idea of me going around trying to woo the Slayer.”


Her hand stilled at his back. “So it’s my fault.”


“No, no it’s not. They would have found a reason sooner or later. They get off on hurting others.”


He half expected her to accuse him of being the same, of reveling in causing pain. She wouldn’t be wrong. That was why it surprised him so much when she muttered, “Getting off would be the key word.”


The blood she’d given him had already taken care of the healing and as the pain diminished, the awareness of her touch had rushed to the forefront of his mind. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t want to turn around and tackle her to the couch. Especially with her sounding so… jealous. Proprietary.


“Spike?”


“Hmm?”


“Did you… I mean… did the three of you… you know?”


He twisted to the side and shot a glance at her sullen expression before whispering, “Yeah.”


“Why?” Her fist clamped harder on the wet towel and he directed his gaze at it instead of her eyes. He couldn’t stand to look at her face. At the accusation and hurt he’d sure to see there.


When she cupped his cheek, he started and met her gaze.


“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked, and I guess I can understand. The loneliness and… well, being around someone like Drusilla and Darla. It’s just… it hurts. We were supposed to be each other’s first, you know? I wanted to be the first girl you’ve ever made love with and-” She dropped her hand. “If we ever do that… not saying we will! But if we do… how can I even compare?”


“Buffy… you’ve got it all wrong. If you ever let me that close, you will be the first girl I’ve ever made love to. With them it wasn’t… it was a cold comfort, I suppose. The demon’s need to feel connected to them and to be honest it always felt so… empty. Half the time I don’t even remember what happened. You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly loved and not to sound like a complete ponce—though it’s probably too late for that, but… nobody could ever compare to you. In any way.”


She blushed and focused her attention on his chest. “Will you take care of the rest yourself or do you want me to…”


He couldn’t stand the empty space separating them and reached out to close his fingers around her wrist. “You mean do I want you to touch me instead of cleaning the wounds myself?” He watched her with hooded eyes, his thumb stroking her pulse point. “What do you think?”


“That you’d like to do it yourself?”


He raised his eyebrow.


“It’s not like it would be sexy touching or anything.”


“Buffy… when it comes to you, even slapping me around would be considered sexy touching.” The blush on her cheeks made him smirk. He drew her unresisting hand to his chest, his eyes fluttering shut at the feel of her warmth spreading across his skin.


“It used to be different,” she said and traced her fingers down his chest, entranced with the smoothness of his skin, the firm muscles beneath. Then she realized what she was doing and seized the damp towel to clean the dried blood away.


“What?”


“It used to be me that made you blush, not the other way around.”


He chuckled and the sound turned to a purr as she gently brushed the towel across his skin. “You’re cute when you do that.”


She rolled her eyes and then her hands were gone, and he grunted in protest.


“There, all done,” she said.


“Already? But what about those hard to reach places?”


Her eyes widened. “There are no hard to reach places. They’re all very reachable!”


“But-”


“No more buts.”


“Not even butts of the other variety?”


She groaned. “You’re impossible!”


He pouted.


“Don’t you dare make those puppy eyes at me… so not going to work. You know, I don’t remember you having such a dirty mind.”


“I assure you I’ve always had one, just was too uptight to act upon it.”


“Well, you weren’t uptight when we… when you made me… you know.”


“When we dry humped on my bed, and I made you come and scream my name? Yeah, guess you bring that out in me.”


“Oh God, I can’t believe you just said that.”


“I love making you… squirm.” He leaned in and twined his fingers in her hair. “God, how I missed your hair.”


“Spike.”


The way his voice washed over her had her weak in the knees. It was probably a good thing she was sitting when he caressed the nape of her neck and drew her forward. When he leaned in and kissed her, her hands flew up to seek purchase and landed on his shoulders. The muscles tensed beneath her hands as he pulled her closer, making her blood rush faster when the tip of his tongue snuck out to brush against the seam of her lips. His hands slipped to her waist, and he pulled her on his lap, their torsos pressed tightly together.


Buffy whimpered into his lips as his fingers found their way under her t-shirt and caressed her bare skin. She loosened her tight hold on his shoulders and trailed them up his neck to bury them in his soft hair. Using the hold on him, she tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, craving to be closer to him, to feel as much of him as possible.


The blood in her veins was racing now, the rush of it almost drowning out the fast breaths and moans streaming past their desperate lips as she squirmed on his lap. The hands on her waist tightened to the point of pain before moving to clutch at her circling hips, guiding her, pressing her impossibly closer.


The intensity between them escalated, the heat of their embrace searing. She couldn’t get enough of him. The way his mouth dragged against hers, the slide of his tongue, the way his teeth nipped at her swollen lips. And his hands. God, his hands scorched her skin as they sought and touched, sneaking beneath the fabric of her clothes.


She took in a ragged breath when their lips separated and he latched onto the sensitive skin of her neck. There was nothing she wanted more than to press him down on the couch and strip those jeans off him. And that was what scared her so much.


“Spike?”


“Mmm?” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and nibbled on it.


She struggled to form a coherent thought and leaned away from him. Spike gazed at her, panting, his eyes dark and intense.


“We can’t keep doing this.”


“What? Snogging? Why the hell not?”


“It’s… we just shouldn’t. We can’t just start where we left off. There’s so many things that we need to figure out and-”


His hands caressed her backside and she gulped. “Buffy, I can’t keep my hands off you. We can figure the stuff out as we go. Everything will work itself out. You’ll see.”


“What if it doesn’t?” Reluctantly, she climbed off him, pretending not to notice how his eyes rolled back in his head, his face contorted in pleasure as she accidentally pressed down on his lap before moving to sit next to him.


The air around was still thick with tension and her hands itched to touch him. Seeing his mussed hair and swollen lips didn’t help her to quell the urge at all. If he kept up staring at her as if she was chocolate fudge cake with strawberries on top, there was no way she’d be able to keep her hands to herself. She shot to her feet.


“I’m going to… umm… bathroom. Brush my teeth before going to bed and all that. And maybe I’ll call the hospital… see if anything has changed. It probably hasn’t, but I… I need to be sure.”


“Maybe I should just sod off. Let yo-”


“No! Don’t go. I don’t want to be here alone.” She knew it was a bad idea to let him stay, but she needed him to be there. Needed him to help her keep her mind off things. “Promise me you won’t go.”


His eyes softened as he said, “I’ll be here, luv.”


TBC


A/N: I hope you enjoyed the Spuffy chapter. ;)