In case anyone is interested, I set up a blog
very recently. There's just one entry so far but IT'S THE FUNNIEST THING YOU'LL EVER READ!!! Just kidding, but some of you might like it if you share my weird sense of humour. ;) Apparently, if I get enough views and people comment and stuff, I could be earning money with it. No need to say more. *g*
And now to the thing that actually does interest you... previously: Spike went on a sugar high and he and Buffy had some pretty good times. Buffy got hers but Spike was left with blue testicles. And now, are they finally going to have 'the' talk??
Awesome ladies All4Spike and BloodyHell beta'd this.
Spike’s jaw clenched and he cursed under his breath. Immediately he could sense Buffy withdraw as the outside world intruded on their private moment.
He reluctantly let go of her, torn between feeling sexually frustrated like never before and feeling hurt for the way she avoided his gaze and folded her arms over her chest in an obvious show of keeping her distance. Didn’t he make her feel good? He knew he did. So why was she turning away from him like she hadn’t come apart under his hands, like she hadn’t breathed his name with such urgency it had made him quiver?
“Can we not talk about this right now?” she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the beige motel carpet.
The muscles in his jaw ticked. “So that’s it? You got what you wanted and now you go back to denying anything ever happened?”
He threw his arms into the air, frustrated and hurt beyond measure. Why was he so bloody stupid to always long for something he could never have?
“That’s just fucking grand, isn’t it? You know, I wish I was as cold hearted as you are because you have obviously no problem rubbing against me like a bitch in heat and then turning into an ice queen in a few seconds flat!” He clenched his fists, clinging to the anger with everything he was.
When she finally lifted her gaze, his anger wavered and crumbled to dust upon the sight of her eyes welling with tears.
“So that’s what you really think of me,” she whispered, smiling bitterly. “You know, I thought you were… Never mind.”
Spike stood there with his feet rooted to the floor as he watched her push past him and heard the bathroom lock click after she closed the door behind her. What the hell just happened? One moment he was buried fingers deep in her warmth and tasting the silk of her skin and the next the fragile connection slipped out of his grasp and shattered, leaving him standing in the wreckage of words he hadn’t even meant.
He trudged over to the bed and sat down heavily, rubbing his chest. Even that didn’t ease the painful pressure squeezing his heart and he didn’t know what to do to make it better. Because as much as he would have liked lying to himself, he was never much for false pretenses. That little slip of a girl was so much more than just an object of lust or rebound from Drusilla. She was… Buffy. Everything he was supposed to despise but secretly craved.
And now he’d hurt her and the feeling of remorse pressed down so hard he thought he wouldn’t be able to draw in a breath he didn’t even need. All because he couldn’t handle being rejected and having the most incredible moment in his existence thrown in his face as something to be regretted.
Silently, he stood up and approached the door, pressing his forehead against it as he listened in on the sound of water flowing from the tap.
She should have known it would end like this. That Spike would open his stupid big mouth once again and say something to hit her where it hurt the most.
Buffy splashed cool water on her face, trying to get her rampant emotions and thoughts under control. If he hadn’t been such a bonehead he might have realised she wasn’t about to pretend the make-out session had never happened. God, didn’t he see how confused she was? It was all too much. The way he made her burn and lose control was unlike anything she’d ever felt.
It terrified her.
That in a mere week, she came to trust him more than she’d ever trusted Angel. That Spike had made her laugh and treated her more like an equal and a woman that anyone else ever had. Not even repeating to herself that he had no soul quelled the butterflies in her stomach every time he glanced her way, or the way he made her heart skip a beat with every innuendo.
She was way in over her head here, fumbling to reach some kind of understanding where Spike was concerned as she shut off the water and patted her damp face with a towel. How nice would it be to be able to simply put her feelings in a box and label them appropriately? All clean and neat. What she felt for Spike was anything but those things. It was raw and blazing hot, a tangled mess of tenderness and passion, trust and wariness.
With a sigh, she slid to the floor, leaning her forehead against the door.
This was third car they had stolen and as Buffy climbed inside before Spike could hold the door open for her, she realised she didn’t much care. Being on a road trip with a vampire put a hell of a damper on one’s morals, apparently.
Neither of them had said a word since they’d left the motel room and Buffy found herself experiencing something she and Spike had never shared before.
The tension was prickling her skin, making her shift in her seat, her fingers playing with the hem of her top in an effort to find some distraction. Not even the rumble of the engine diffused the awkwardness. Still, she refused to open her mouth. Just as she refused to look at Spike from the corner of her eye.
“Buffy…” Spike said in a voice that was a bit rough.
She turned her head to the side to stare out of the window. Even if she couldn’t quite recall what it was supposed to be, she had a point to prove.
“Look… I’m sorry, yeah? I didn’t… I didn’t mean it.”
Damn him, she wouldn’t reply. She would not!
“I know you’re pissed at me, and I deserve it. You’re not cold hearted, don’t know why I even said that. Sometimes my mouth isn’t connected to my brain.”
Buffy bit down on her tongue.
“You can be a bitch though, but I do regret saying it in that context.”
She sent him a glare though she hated the way his apology melted all her reserves. “I’m not a bitch.”
“A little bit,” he said with a smile. “But I like that about you.”
She rolled her eyes, more at her lack of control than at his preferences of her moods. “You seem to take a weird pleasure in being slapped around.”
“Only when you do it.” A smirk briefly crossed his lips and she had an insane urge to nibble it off.
Apparently, upsetting her was not exclusive to still wanting to feel every inch of his skin electrifying hers.
“I’m sorry too,” she said and realised that she really was.
Spike glanced at her, eyes squinted as he regarded her like she was about to laugh her apology off as a joke.
“I’m sorry for the way I cut you off. I didn’t mean to, but this whole… thing we have… it’s all so… it scares the crap out of me and I didn’t want to talk because I have no idea what it means,” she admitted, dropping her gaze to her hands.
“You think I’m not scared? You’re the Slayer. I’m not supposed to want you.” His voice wavered and he wrapped his hands tighter around the steering wheel. “But one thing I learned is that life is too short to be denying yourself something that feels so… right. Even if it is the wrongest thing.”
“Easy for you to say, Spike. You have nothing to lose.”
He laughed then, but it sounded more like a mockery than anything else even to his own ears. Didn’t she see? He had everything to lose. He was one step away from handing her his heart despite the reason in his head screaming she would tear it apart. It was just a matter of time.
“You’re… free. You can do anything you want without people telling you how incredibly wrong the choice is.” She paused before saying, “I envy you.”
“You can too. It’s your life and it’s up to you to decide what to do with it.”
“Except the choices I make affect people around me. I don’t want to be that selfish again.”
Ah, it all came back to Angelus, didn’t it? The wanker always had to bugger everything up.
“You’re not selfish, Buffy. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be happy.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said.
Suddenly all he wanted was to pull her out of the sadness hanging over her head like a big stormy cloud. But he knew she’d never give him a chance. Not now and certainly not once they blasted their way past the Sunnydale sign.
He wanted to tell her he was nothing like Angelus, that he could make her happy if she let him. That all he was and all he had, he would give to her without wanting anything in return. Because… because he was in love with her.
Spike, the self proclaimed Slayer of Slayers, loved Buffy. He didn’t know how and when it happened, could not pinpoint the precise moment he fell off the edge. Perhaps it had slowly crept up on him. Perhaps it had always been there, buried under the bricks of denial that crumbled one by one the longer he spent in her light.
All he knew was that she could never know.
He almost jumped at the sound of her voice. “Yeah?”
“Would you mind if I turned on the radio?”
He shrugged. “Not at all. Just no bubble gum pop songs that will make my ears bleed.”
“What’s wrong with some Britney?” she asked seriously but he saw the small smile she was trying to hide.
“Where do I begin?”
She turned on the radio, leaving it on something that wasn’t exactly to his tastes but at least didn’t make him want to bash his head in.
“Wuss,” she said.
She poked out her tongue at him and leaned back before kicking off her flip-flops to prop her feet up against the dashboard. Just like that, the tension around them eased. A different one started to build as he was left frequently glancing at her bare legs, wondering whether she was torturing him on purpose or if she was naïve enough to think he could drive without wrecking the car with all his blood rushing south.
“We’re going to return this car, you know,” she said after a while. “Oh God, what if police stops us and they find out you have no registration? I swear it will be miracle if I don’t end up in jail thanks to you.”
“Not a problem. I’ll just suck them dry.”
“You’d better be joking.”
He chuckled. “Relax. I’d only take a nibble.”
“You’re not being funny, Spike.”
“Then why is your mouth twitching?” He winked as she pressed her lips together, blush rising to her cheeks.
“You’re supposed to be watching the road, not me.”
“No worries, I’ve got both things covered.” His gaze once again strayed to her legs, an image of having them wrapped around his waist as he pounded her against a wall flashing through his mind. If he kept it up, he’d end up with a permanent case of blue balls around her.
“I bet you do, handsome,” she said, almost making him swerve the car into the opposite lane.
“D-did you just call me… handsome?”
“It slipped out!”
“So you do think I’m handsome.” He couldn’t help it. He smirked. “I bet you think I’m so gorgeous the mere sight of me makes you want to climb right into my lap and give me a happy ending. Care to prove it?” He shot her a hopeful look.
“You’d like that, huh?”
He shifted in his seat, cursing the fact he couldn’t even adjust his uncomfortable position without her noticing. “You’re a tease, Slayer.”
“Who said I was teasing?”
He gulped and tightened his fingers around the wheel, feeling her gaze travel all over his body. Oh hell, this was torture.