One


Author's Note: This is only a short fic (3 chapters) so far, but it may grow to more... It's also my first attempt at NC-17, so it's a bit (although not much) racier than my usual.

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She started awake and moaned slightly as a piece of brick dug into her back. Wait, brick?! She sat up quickly, holding her jacket to her as her eyes swept over the wreckage all around her. Around them. Her eyes fell to the vampire beside her as he began to stir and she looked away shyly as he propped himself up on his elbows, taking in the scene around them.

“When… when did the building fall down?” she murmured, turning towards him and glancing at him from under her eyelashes.

“Not sure,” Spike answered, taking a look around the wreckage, “Some time between the first time and the… well, the rest.”

He gave her a soft smile and she felt her heartbeat skyrocket.

“Oh,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze as she lay back on the floor again, her jacket held tightly against her. She couldn’t help but let out a moan as her sore back hit the cold, uneven floor and she felt his eyes on her.

“Sore?” he asked, one hand reaching out to touch her shoulder.

She turned her face to him and nodded with a wry smile.

“Bricks do not make good beds.”


He smiled that soft smile again and turned
away from her, seemingly searching for something among the wreckage of the building. When he spotted it, he pushed himself to his feet, unashamedly naked as he turned over a large chunk of building. Some sort of modesty tried to make her avert her eyes but it was useless and she found herself watching him, taking in the lines of his body as he retrieved his long coat from the ruins of building and returned to her side, lowering himself to the ground beside her.

“Up,” he coaxed with a slight nod and she sat up with a frown, holding her jacket to her as she tried to figure out what he was doing.

When he lay the coat down underneath her, her eyes widened in surprise and when his eyes met hers, he gave her a sheepish look.

“Not quite satin sheets, but still plenty more comfy than the floor.”

She lay back once more and gave a sigh as her back hit the cool leather. It was warm, somehow, and she found herself discreetly breathing in the scent of Spike that pervaded the material.

“Next time,” she murmured, shifting to get comfortable, “I suggest a bed.”



The vampire was unusually silent and she turned to him with a frown, surprised to find him staring at her with wide eyes.

“What?” she whispered self-consciously, holding her jacket to her tighter.

“Next time?” he got out quietly and she averted her eyes embarrassedly, lying back again and staring at the hole where the ceiling had once been.

“Never figured you for a one night kinda guy,” she quipped lightly.

“I’m not,” he answered softly and she could feel his eyes boring into her, “Just never figured you…”

He trailed off and she threw a glance at him, almost amused by his speechlessness. Feeling slightly awkward, she curled up under her jacket.

“Is it cold down here, or is it just me?”

“Wouldn’t know, love,” he murmured, “Vampire.”

She nodded and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shift again, rolling away from her and tugging something out of the wreckage. He turned to face her again and she quickly averted her gaze, only to have it drawn to him when he held out a bundle of blue material. His shirt, she realised. She took it hesitantly and he smiled.

“Anything else?” he asked with a smile, “I’m running out of clothes though.”

She smiled and quickly tugged on the shirt and buttoned it up, wishing it fell even lower than the tops of her thighs. Of course, she did have clothes around here somewhere, but if she got dressed… well, it seemed sort of final. The night would be over and even though sunlight was streaming through the gaps in the beams, she didn’t want it to be.



They lay there in uneasy silence for long time, until suddenly she let out a gasp and bolted upright.

“Buffy?”

“Oh God. Dawn. I left her all alone.”

“She’ll be fine,” he soothed, sitting up beside her, one hand hovering hesitantly over her shoulder, “She’s a smart girl. She can look after herself.”

“I shouldn’t have left her,” she repeated softly, “I’m such a bad mom.”

“Now, that’s not true,” he murmured, his hand finally coming to rest on her shoulder and turning her towards him, “You slipped up. I’m sure the Bit was okay, though. And Red was probably home soon enough.”

She nodded slowly, giving him a slight smile as her eyes rose to his. This morning could not have been any different from the night, she thought wryly. Last night - or at least the beginning of it - had been about hurting each other with words and fists and now…

She met the vampire’s gaze and he tilted his head, questioning her silently as he took her in. She saw him go to speak but before he could, she pressed a finger to his lips. She then leant forward and replaced her finger with her lips, kissing him softly. He was still for a few short seconds and then he was kissing her back, his lips sliding smoothly over hers, his hand skimming over her shoulder. These kisses were nothing like last night’s either: they were soft, tender, unhurried and devoid of the violence of the night before. She twined her arms around his neck, coaxing his tongue with hers as she lay back on his coat, drawing his cool body against hers.



There was something hesitant in the way he touched her this morning, which almost made her want to laugh after they had been so rough with each other through the night. After they had got over the shock of the feel of one another, of the intimacy of it, the night had been passionate, violent; it had been about marking one another. Her eyes swept over the various marks, bruises, she had left on him in the night and now she trailed her fingers over them softly, soothing them with her gentle touch.

His eyes were on her, watching avidly, almost warily- as if waiting for her to change her mind and throw him away. When her hand wrapped around him and guided him into her though, his whole expression changed to one of awe: that same look that had flooded his eyes last night when she had lowered herself onto him. He let out a soundless moan and caught her mouth in a hungry kiss, still gentle though, his hands smoothing over her skin tenderly. He cradled her in his arms, one hand slipping under his shirt to sweep his fingers over her chest, and she moved against him, arching her neck as he pressed kisses over her skin, his tongue sweeping over her pulse point and sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

He thrust against her sharply and her sore body protested at the movement, a helpless cry falling from her lips- and the next minute, he was soothing her, hands and mouth worshipping her as he moved more gently.



The light of day had definitely changed them, she thought: he was quieter than he had been during the night. He had barely stopped talking once he had gotten over the shock, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was; declaring his love time and time again; whispering in her ear how good she felt, how much he had always wanted her.

Now, he was silent, his heavy breathing and the odd moan the only sound coming from him. Locking her arms around him, she brought her mouth to his ear, pressing her lips against the cool skin just beneath it.

“Tell me you love me,” she whispered.

“God, Buffy,” he groaned, one hand sliding into her hair and holding her against him as he buried his face against her neck, “Love you. Love you so bloody much. Can’t stop loving you.”

That seemed to have opened him up again and he began a whispered mantra, repeating his love for her with every thrust, obviously trying to remain gentle even as he strove to satisfy both of their desires. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders and neck and she clung to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He groaned, his breath warm against her ear, and moved against her.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire and she forced her heavy-lidded gaze to his. He twisted his hips and moved against her and she cried out, surprised by the climax she hadn’t known was so close.

“I love you,” he moaned, his head falling to her neck as he thrust against her and followed her into bliss.



They parted somewhat awkwardly and lay side by side, she adjusting his shirt to cover as much of her as possible. He chuckled and she turned to him in surprise, frowning slightly.

“Getting bashful, love?” he purred, resting on one hand as he watched her with an amused smile, dark eyes fixed on her bared legs, “No need to be ashamed of what you’ve got.”

As he spoke, he ran a lazy hand down his front, drawing her eyes with it. When his hand came to rest low on his hip, she quickly raised her eyes, a blush flooding her cheeks.

“Shut up, Spike,” she got out, with none of her usual venom. He just smiled and lay back, resting his head on his arms. All tousled and satisfied was a good look on him, she decided. He darted a heated look her way, tongue behind his teeth, and she averted her eyes quickly, giving him a glare before she did.

The last round seemed to have changed the mood once again and he seemed playful and relaxed now, and she couldn’t help but smile. She rolled onto her side, curling up and resting her head on her arm, her eyes on the vampire beside her. He opened one eye to look at her and leered.

“Can’t get enough, eh, Slayer?”

Oh yes, he was definitely back to his usual self now.

“Ego much?”

He grinned and closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He looked so relaxed at that moment and she found herself envying him his calm.

“How do you do it?” she asked and he turned his head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in question.

“Do what?”

“Keep going… year after year... Living. Don’t you ever get tired?”

He rolled fully onto his side, studying her face with an intent gaze.

“Losing you to the bad thoughts already, am I?” he murmured, his bright eyes meeting hers.



She sighed and rolled onto her back, looking up at the broken timbers of the house.

“I don’t think I can carry on much longer.”

“’Course you can, Slayer. You’re strong. Seen you get through a lot.”

“It’s different now. Feels different anyway.”

She fell silent and closed her eyes with a sigh.

“Guess it would, if I’m not human anymore.”

She felt the air grow thick with tension, awkwardness, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if she could ignore it.

“Buffy,” Spike called, one hand grazing her arm, “Look at me.”

He caught her chin and she forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze hesitantly. He looked pained, his expression flooded with guilt.

“What I said last night… I was wrong, okay? Just wanted to get a rise out of you. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Then what’s wrong with me, Spike?” she whispered helplessly, “Why can you hurt me?”

She had barely got the second question out when he caught her by the arm, his eyes bright with emotion as he looked down at her.

“Nothing wrong with you, Buffy. Nothing,” he insisted.

She wanted to believe him, she really did- but how could she, under the circumstances. She sighed, her gaze going to the ceiling once more.

“I should get back and check on Dawn.”



He said nothing to stop her and she got to her feet shakily, moving around the wreckage and finding her scattered clothing. She pulled on her skirt and vest and struggled with her boots. She had removed his shirt and hung it over a broken beam. And while she was dressing, Spike remained unnervingly silent, not moving from his position on the floor.

It was only as she picked up her jacket and pulled it on that he moved, getting to his feet and tugging his jeans on. She stood there silently, watching him from under her eyelashes, something in her keeping her from leaving. When he had fastened his jeans, he fixed his gaze on her.

“Last night changed things.”

“I know,” she whispered, swallowing hard. He seemed momentarily stunned by her answer but then spoke again.

“Will I see you again?” he asked.

She took a step forward, only inches away from him now.

“Yes,” she whispered, leaning up and kissing him. He caught her around the neck, pulling her close and kissing her back sensuously, his other hand running down her arm as she clutched his waistband. His touch was setting her on fire and she knew she had to stop if she was to leave. She pulled away reluctantly but the hand at the back of her neck prevented her from going far.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, fingers tracing over her neck and collarbone, “Sun’s up. I’m stuck.”

She threw a look at the ceiling, torn between knowing she needed to get back to her sister and wanting to stay.

“Isn’t there another way out? Through the sewers? Is there a basement to this place?”

“Love, we’re in the basement.”

“Oh.”

He was watching her carefully, waiting for her response.

“I have to go,” she murmured and she saw him quickly hide the disappointment that flashed across his face, “But I… I’ll check on Dawn and then I’ll come back. I’ll bring some things.”

He looked at her in silence for a long moment before nodding and pressing a kiss to her lips and stepping back. She let out a shaky breath and glared at him as he smirked, knowing just how her body had reacted to his closeness.

“I’ll be back,” she called uncertainly, turning and beginning to climb out of the wrecked building.