Never Ever Tell by Lilachigh

Meeting 23 A Just a Spell


Oh my God, this was dreadful, Buffy thought. She had to get to Riley fast and tell him that she’d been making it all up. Of course she wasn’t going to marry an older guy called Spike. Of course she wasn’t in love with him. How hideously ridiculous was that!
Obviously she couldn’t tell Riley the truth - that she’d been under a spell cast by her best friend. No, not a good idea. But she would think of some other excuse.

Right, yes, that would do - she would use the expression on his face when he’d seen her looking at that wedding dress. She’d make up a good story. Lying, of course, was the one thing she never needed to practice. She could have passed any exam
in the world on not telling the truth.

Riley was such a nice, normal guy. And she needed nice and normal in her life. She didn’t need the bad boys, the ones who broke your heart, or the ones who stole into it and made it their own, whether you wanted them to or not.

Buffy spun round to grab her jacket and came face to face with the vampire she’d been engaged to, sitting, being irritating, licking cookie crumbs off his lips -

- why could she remember the taste of those lips so well, feel them on her mouth, on her breasts, on her -

What rubbish. She was imagining all these sensations. Nothing had happened between them. Okay, not nothing - a few kisses, perhaps, that was all. No biggie. No crime. Nothing to get so hot and bothered about. It had been just a spell and she was fast forgetting -

- returning to Giles’ house from seeing Riley outside the wedding boutique.

And she’d been worried about her Watcher and his blindness, so she’d gone straight indoors to check on him, hadn’t she? Of course she had -

“What?” she hissed at Spike now as he raised an eyebrow at her and glared.

“Nothing, Slayer. Just dealing with a nasty memory I’m trying to wipe out of my mind before it makes me violently sick.”

His blue eyes blazed at her and her body acted the traitor and quivered shamefully because it was reacting to his body and although she fought hard to close down her brain, she knew he’d been -

- waiting for her in the dark courtyard of Giles’ house. Where only recently the Indians had gathered on Thanksgiving to attack them. As she passed, a hand reached from the shadows and effortlessly pulled her close.

‘Spike! What are you doing out here?”

“Crowded in there, pet.”

“I’ve just seen the most beautiful wedding dress. You’ll love it - well, no, you probably won’t because it’s white, not black, and frilly, but I love it and now all we’ve got to decide is if you’re going to wear a blue tux or red!”

Spike bent his head and stopped her talking by kissing her. Not the gentle, laughing flirt, this time, but the lover of her darkest dreams. Her hands twined round his neck as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer, so every inch of her body was pressed against his.

“No more talking,” he muttered, breaking away to kiss her throat, sliding his cold hands under her top to the soft skin that welcomed him with a flush of heat. “No more waiting, Buffy. Need you now.”

“Spike - oh god - no, we mustn’t. Not here. Someone will see. Oh god, stop - no don’t stop doing that - please - please - ”

He spun her round into the darkest corner of the courtyard - the roaring in her ears preceding the desire that flooded through her - the desire that had been growing every hour and wouldn’t be denied. They were on the ground, tearing at clothes that were in the way, needing each other - needing to feel, desperate to be one.

Then he was inside her and for an instant she thought she was going to die. So big, so cold, filling her in a way that she’d never imagined possible in her naughtiest dreams. Then he was withdrawing and she moaned and somehow she grabbed his butt and pulled him back and then the pounding began – on and on and on - and who was fucking who was hard to tell until she came, her screams lost in his mouth as seconds later his groans were buried in her breasts.

This had nothing to do with marrying him; somewhere deep down, Buffy knew that. This had everything to do with consummating something with this man that was overpowering, completing a circle, key and lock, accepting a destiny that they might not want or realise for years, but once this had happened, nothing could stop it. Nothing!

No! Buffy flinched now, her eyes widening as the memory of what they’d done, how the vampire had made her feel, burned through her brain. These memories were just part of the spell, she told herself again, desperately. She could never have felt like that, given herself so readily to Spike of all people.

He wasn’t Angel; he had no soul. He was evil, she was good. Even under the influence of a silly spell, she would never, could never - not with another vampire, not with Spike - oh God!

The sapphire gaze held hers against her will and she wondered, for a fleeting second, what would have happened if Willow hadn’t reversed the spell. And what shocked her even more than the memories, was that she felt - just for a moment - an overpowering sense of regret.

Using every ounce of Slayer will-power, she forced the memory back - back - back into the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind. She and Spike had never touched each other like that, never whispered hoarse words of desire as they made mad, passionate love, outside in the dark courtyard, not once, not twice, but……

“It never happened!” she whispered violently to him now.

“Bloody hell. No, of course it sodding didn’t,” Spike snapped back and neither of them thought to query the remarkable fact that he didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.

“Just magic, that’s all. It was only Willow’s spell that made us - ” she muttered and before he could reply, she ran from the house to find her nice, safe boyfriend and convince him with smiles and laughter that she was exactly the same girl she’d been two days earlier.

But, of course, she wasn’t.


Meeting: No Bed of Roses

“Right, are you ready, Spike? I promised Giles I’d take you over to Xander’s tonight.” Buffy hurried into the house, desperate to get this chore out of the way as she had a date with Riley.

The vampire was lying full length on Giles’ sofa, hands clasped behind his head, boots scuffing the cushions. “I’d rather be dust than live with the whelp!”

“That can very easily be arranged! Now get up. We’ve got to go.”

“Buffy - ” He swung his legs to the floor and she caught at a random thought that flashed through her brain. Cat like, every movement he made. Sinuous, elegant.

He gazed up at her and if she hadn’t known otherwise, she would have said Spike was trying to be winsome.

“If you make me do this, I could go evil again.”

“Not unless Xander has developed some outstanding military medical skills we know nothing about and is stupid enough to take out your pretty little chip.”

Spike frowned. “I still don’t see why I have to leave here. Just because your bloody Watcher wants to shag his girl friend - and by the way, don’t you think he is far too old for that sort of thing - I have to go and live in a smelly damp basement.”

Buffy sighed. God he was so annoying. “Xander’s basement is not damp and it wouldn’t be smelly if he did his laundry more regularly. Hey, maybe you can give him a hand there.”

She smiled brightly at the deep scowl her words produced. “And anyway, Spike, you’re a vampire. Not a very good one, admittedly, but damp and smelly won’t be anything you haven’t experienced before. So get over it.”

She wasn’t going to tell him that her first idea had been to let him find a nice quiet crypt somewhere close by where she could keep an eye on him. But Giles had thought it a bad idea. He’d polished his glasses, pursed his lips and muttered that Slayers shouldn’t get involved with vampires, even chipped ones.

Buffy had refrained from mentioning Angel - she knew exactly what Giles would say. And she had to admit he had a point. But Spike wasn’t Angel. She wasn’t in love with Spike. God what a sick thought! The very idea of him touching her, kissing her, making love to her - she felt a slow flush of heat rising up her body and in front of her, Spike lifted his head sharply, scenting, questing -

Buffy pushed her thoughts aside. “No, you’re going to Xander’s. And you’d better behave because you know he isn’t too happy about it. And that’s putting it mildly.”

Spike flung himself back onto the sofa and Buffy tried hard to stop her lips twitching. He looked so sulky, like a small boy who’d been told he couldn’t watch his favourite TV programme. The Big Bad seemed to have turned into a Small Nuisance.

But she knew that if the chip stopped working, William the Bloody would be back instantly, causing as much mayhem as he possibly could. “It won’t be that dreadful,” she said cheerfully. “Xander’s out all day and in the evenings he and Anya - ”

Spike sat up, his sapphire eyes wide with horror. “Bloody Hell, Slayer. You don’t expect me to sit there and listen to them shag, do you?”

“ - they go out a lot. To the Bronze and movies and - well, they go out a lot. I appreciate that it won’t be easy for you, but jeeze, Spike, we’re not here to make your life a bed of roses, you know.”

Spike grinned. “Have you ever slept on a bed of roses, Slayer? I have - in Paris. Bloody uncomfortable, I can tell you. Dru spent hours collecting them from every garden and cemetery she could find. Trouble was, she didn’t bother to cut the thorns off before she covered the bed with them, so without our clothes on, things got a little scratchy, if you know what I mean.”

“Spike - ! ” Buffy said warningly.

“Would you like to see the scars. Still have some and as we’re alone - ” He reached for the clasp on his jeans and Buffy yelped and batted his hand away.

“Spike, you’re just wasting time. Do you want me to knock you unconscious and carry you to Xander’s?”

There was a glitter from under his thick dark lashes. “Think you could, Slayer?”

Buffy faced up to him, hands on hips. “I know I could. Just don’t challenge me to prove it.”

Abruptly, the vampire rolled off the sofa and stood up, stretching. Buffy took a couple of steps backwards. He wasn’t as tall as Angel but when he was close to her, he seemed to take all the air from her lungs, crowd her space, and she actually felt a little dizzy.

One day she knew she would have to research with Giles this strange effect Spike had on her physical being. There was sure to be something in one of his many books about vampires and how Slayers reacted to them. She was getting a bit tired of this fluey feeling she often had when Spike was around.

“Right, let’s go then,” he said suddenly.

Buffy glanced round the room and Spike guessed immediately what was going through her mind. “Don’t worry. I’ve nothing to take with me, Slayer. And there’s nothing worth nicking here now we’ve drunk all the Watcher’s sodding whisky.’

Buffy bit her lip and motioned him to walk in front of her. For a few seconds she’d been in the ridiculous position of feeling sorry for the vampire. To have absolutely nothing in the whole world and no one to care what happened to you, even if you were a member of the living dead, seemed – well — sad.

And as they headed out into the dark Sunnydale night, Buffy didn’t stop to wonder how odd it was that she was trying to remember if her mom had any books at home that Spike might find interesting.

another meeting follows shortly