Finding Freedom


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Author: Christy

Rating: R

Feedback: Please

Disclaimer: The characters and Sunnydale belong to Joss. The story belongs to me.

Author's Comments: Buffy and Spike, of course. I had a certain idea that I started with and it didn't go the way I expected it to, so I'm not sure if it's any good or if I even like it that much. Let me know what you think. Also, what's with the two-word alliterative titles (see my last fic, Earning Eternity) ? I don't know. I couldn't help it. I won't do it again. I promise!

******


"What do you want?" The question was sharp and his voice was hostile. He might love her but he still had *some* pride. He wouldn't let her keep doing this to him. She couldn't treat him like less than nothing one day and then come storming into his crypt the next demanding his help and actually expect to get it. He knew now that she honestly believed that as a demon he was
incapable of love and other human emotions. He knew because that's exactly how she'd been treating him since he'd professed his love for her. She treated him like an inanimate object with no feelings to hurt. But he did have feelings. If anything his feelings were stronger now than when he had been human. Since he'd been turned his emotions had been manic. He had the whole spectrum of human emotions with none of the inhibitions. That's why he hurt so much every time he looked at her and saw nothing but hatred and contempt in her eyes.

Looking at her as she stood there in his crypt he saw the hatred and contempt but he saw other things as well. He saw weariness, desperation, the dull excitement of an adrenaline junky who can't do anything dangerous enough anymore to get the high they crave, and he saw purpose. He waited to hear what purpose she had pursued to his door.

Too much. It was too much...again. She'd been here before when she'd sent Angel to hell, been expelled from school, pursued by the police for murder and told by her mother to never come home again. She'd run away that time. She had hoped to find some freedom from her life in a place away from the people who knew her and her calling. It hadn't worked. Her duty had followed her and all the pain of her life too. When she'd realized that freedom couldn't be had by running away, she'd come home. Now it was too much again and this time so much more than before. What was the loss of a lover compared to the loss of a mother, the final falling away of her youth? Of course she'd lost another lover this time too. Just when she thought it couldn't get worse it did.

The walls had started closing in on her as she'd reflected on the events of the past few weeks. She hadn't been able to breathe. She was sitting in her living room in her house, not her mom's anymore, and the noise of the TV had faded to a vague humming in her ears, her vision blurred, focusing on nothing and she got caught up in her emotional numbness. She suddenly felt trapped again. This time, however, running was not an option. She knew now that running away from something was not freedom. It was just a way to make the cage bigger and even harder to escape. She ran again; but this time instead of running from something she ran to someone. Freedom. He knew freedom. He would tell her how to find it, maybe even lead her there.

He was becoming impatient with her just standing there, hands clenched in fists at her sides, staring at him like she would get what she wanted or he would pay the price. But what did she want so desperately? He didn't even allow himself to consider that she might want the love he offered. Her eyes were cold. It wasn't any part of him she wanted. His hurt and anger at the thought of her using him again threatened to get the better of him so he ground out again, "What...do...you...want?"

She cocked her head to the side the way he often did, like a predator trying to pick up the scent of its prey.

"Freedom." Her eyes shifted up seductively to meet his as she said the word softly. She wasn't trying to seduce him. She just was.

******

He looked at her stupidly, mouth parted and eyes slightly wide, "Pardon?"

"I want to feel free, like I don't have any responsibilities and can do, say and be anything I want without having to consider how it will affect the rest of the fucking world! Can you make me feel free?" She cornered him in the crypt and refused to let his eyes slink away from her intense stare.

He wasn't sure where to go with this. So, he did the only thing he could do in that situation, he grabbed a cigarette from the box in his pocket and lit it, taking a deep drag before addressing her bizarre question and letting go of the tight control he'd been exerting over his emotions.

"And just what the bloody hell would I know about freedom?!" he exploded.

She flinched but didn't move an inch. He noticed in the midst of his growing tirade that her eyes now held surprise and confusion.

"This chip in my head, is that freedom?" He demanded pointing to his skull with the hand still clutching the cigarette. "Waiting hand and foot on fucking crazy Dru for 100 years, wanting to leave so bad I thought I'd go crazy but not being able to because I loved her too damn much, is that freedom? Or how about being tortured into submission by that wanker sire of mine and having to tag along at his coat tails for years, yeah that was freedom." His voice dripped with sarcasm and fury and some of the same desperation she felt.

He could see that she was considering his words but was unable to stop now that the words he'd never spoken aloud came pouring out.

"How about my life before I was turned? I mean I was stuck in a life that I was born into. And, I was a pathetic fool, ridiculed by the people who were supposed to be my friends, crushed by the first human I ever loved. Gee, not sounding very free is it? So you never had a choice in your destiny? Well I never had a choice either."

He stopped mid-stride and ceased the frantic pacing that had occupied him as he exorcised his bitterness. The two of them stood there staring at each other, the air charged with hostility and arousal as it always was between them. Spike waited for her to say something, to acknowledge the things he'd told her but she said nothing. Her eyes were less angry, maybe a little less cold but still she said nothing. Spike tossed his cigarette to the floor and stomped it out with his foot. He was disgusted with himself for losing it like that and with her for being so blind, so black and white where he was concerned. He turned away from her and threw himself in his chair where he sat and stared at the wall of the crypt. He wasn't expecting anything from her, not anymore. He was lost in his own thoughts and memories. Taking time he usually didn't allow himself to dwell on the past and his regrets.

Buffy was confused and numb. She just stood there staring at the back of his head as he brooded. She couldn't seem to process the things that Spike had said. None of it made sense; her coming here, begging him for answers, the feelings of empathy for Spike that she was trying to deny, the idea that he was more like her than anyone else in her life. She couldn't or wouldn't allow herself to understand what it all meant. The individual ideas just kept swirling in her head failing to add up. She was afraid of what it might mean if she added it all up.

She walked over and sat down on the floor a few feet from where Spike sat in the chair. They sat in silence for a long time, Spike staring at the wall, Buffy with her arms wrapped around her knees. Eventually Buffy began to rock herself and cry silently. Spike knew the exact moment she started to cry even though she didn't make a sound. He made no move to comfort her. It wasn't that he didn't care, he did. Despite his anger at her selfishness and narrowminded view of the world, it hurt him to witness her despair. But he wouldn't go to her. He wouldn't allow her another opportunity to take from him and then push him away and crush him when she'd gotten what she needed.

In his head he was laughing at the irony. He always had what she needed. She knew that and she was greedy in taking it but she wouldn't admit to herself what it meant. Finally the sun began to rise and Spike roused himself from his contemplation of the crypt wall and the irony that was his relationship with Buffy. He ignored her as he got up from the chair, stripped off his shirt
and shoes and got into bed.

She lifted her head briefly and watched him. She couldn't believe that Spike had sat there with her and hadn't said a word for hours. She couldn't believe he hadn't tried to convince her that he cared. He was supposed to love her wasn't he? That's what he'd been saying for weeks! She knew it! She knew demons didn't have real feelings! She didn't care. It didn't mean anything to her. If he didn't want to continue with his little game that was just fine with her! ....But if that was true why did she suddenly feel so lost?

As she'd sat there crying she'd felt herself slowly falling with no one to catch her. She finally admitted to herself that she had expected Spike to try to pick up the pieces that she had become and help her put herself back together even if it was by fighting with her or making her angry enough to want to hurt him. His total lack of interest in her pain after his initial outburst was stunning and, she had to admit, scary. She could always depend on Spike to be Spike at the very least. Now he was just one more part of her life that she couldn't understand anymore. And what about all of the things he'd said? She knew he'd told her the truth. Whatever he was, Spike was not a liar. His life was no better than hers. Neither of them had a choice in their destinies. Why did her instincts lead her to him in her search for some kind of freedom? Why did her instincts always seem to lead her to him?

AHHH! She didn't want to go down that road! She wanted to leave. She wanted to get up and go and not come back, to ignore him the same way he ignored her. Unfortunately, she couldn't. No matter how much she thought about leaving, visualized getting up and walking out, she couldn't convince herself to move. Move any farther than the side of the bed anyway.

Buffy found herself sitting on the edge of the bed watching Spike sleep. For the first time since she'd met him she allowed herself to really look at him and really think about who he was and the things he said. He looked very young in his sleep. He wasn't mocking her or pleading with her to feel something she couldn't. He wasn't challenging her in any way so she was able
to observe him with her defenses down and she was afraid of what she saw and what it made her feel. She actually felt protective of him. He looked very vulnerable and she realized that he was since the chip had been implanted.

What did that mean to her? Spike could be hurt or killed very easily. How *did* she feel about that? Would she miss him? Would it bother her if he was suddenly gone? She wasn't sure and that bothered her because until recently she would have known the answer to that question without a doubt. She reluctantly admitted to herself that he was very good looking.

It would be so easy to fall for him, so easy to deny what her head told her and just fall. Crushes were so easy to fall into, she used to do it all of the time before she became the Slayer. Spike would be easy and dangerous to be infatuated with, let alone in love with. Maybe that's why she kept him at such a distance. Like a child she tried to hurt him to keep him from being
in a position to hurt her. "We're all fascinated with things that are bad for us" she thought. She continued to watch him as he slept and she thought about the events that had led her to this moment and to this place. It was overwhelming, so many losses in the past few years. Was she only 20 years old? Was it possible that she was that young? She felt older than most people ever would. Loss has a tendency to do that. She felt very tired. Not just tired; soul-weary. If she'd only been tired she would have
gone home to her own bed and slept until she felt better. She knew that sleep alone could not cure what she felt now. If she couldn't find freedom she'd find peace in oblivion. That was the last thought she had before she lay down next to Spike and drifted off.

******

Spike began to wake slowly as the sun set. He knew something wasn't right in the crypt but he was still too drugged with sleep to figure out what it was. He hated this time more than anything. These last few moments before he was fully conscious scared him. He was a prisoner in his body every evening for the few last minutes of the vampiric sleep. He was
defenseless against anyone who wanted to harm him. When he finally felt the sleep give up its hold on him he lurched out of bed, relieved to have made it through another day.

He realized he thought like that all too often these days. Ever since the chip was implanted in his brain he felt more vulnerable
and afraid than he liked to admit. There were times when, much to his secret shame, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in someone's arms and hide from the world and himself and the other things he no longer understood.

But he had no one. No one who cared enough to understand that he was frightened even though he tried to act like the Big Bad. No one who loved him and would allow him to ask for comfort with or without a reason.

He looked around for the source of his unease and found Buffy asleep in his bed. He hurt even more looking at her. She was the one he wanted comfort and love from and she was the one creature in the world least likely to give it to him. Why did he always have to want what he couldn't have?

Love... comfort... Buffy... he hadn't had a right to those things in over 100 years. But the desire for them and the pain of not having them hadn't gone away or gotten any easier to bear. Spike would have been disgusted with himself for brooding if he'd had any pride left. That had been taken from him too. What did he have left? Dru was gone, Angelus had never really
wanted him, Buffy had totally rejected him and he couldn't even be what he was anymore, a vampire. If he wasn't a proper vampire what was his purpose? Why did he exist?

He studied Buffy in her sleep, how beautiful and serene she looked. He realized that in many ways she had become his reason
for "living". At first it was plotting to destroy her that kept him going, then it was the sheer pleasure he derived from arguing and fighting with her and now it was protecting her and hoping she might feel something for him. But, it dawned on him that she never would care for him. The most he could expect from her was for her to use him every once in a while when it suited her
purposes. He couldn't go on like this.

The pain twisted in his gut like he was dying all over again. It was time to choose his hell. He could dust himself and suffer spiritual hell or he could go on living in Sunnydale and suffer the hell of never having Buffy's love. What's it gonna be Spike? He
let his gaze wander over the girl sleeping in the bed again and decided it.

He grabbed the stake she had brought with her and pressed it to his chest. He would die with the image of Buffy burned into his mind forever. She would wake up to find him gone. She probably wouldn't even notice the dust on the floor. His disappearance would be noted and dismissed and they would all go on and no one would mourn him.

As the tears came, his vision of Buffy was obscured but he raised the stake and pressed it to his heart once more; determined to end it.

"Spike don't." she spoke softly not wanting to startle him with the stake poised over his heart.

"Why the bloody hell not?!" he raged his hand not moving but his eyes swinging up to meet hers.

Buffy sat up in the bed looking at him. At first he thought he saw actual concern in her eyes but he convinced himself it was wishful thinking. He cursed himself again.

"Because I would notice the dust on the floor and I would wonder about you everyday if you disappeared and ...and I would mourn you. I've mourned too many people already."

He looked at her incredulously, tears in his eyes. Was she reading his mind?

"You said that last part out loud." she said in answer to the question in his eyes.

She slowly got up and walked over to him and placed her hand over his on the stake. He looked down at their hands entwined on the stake.

"Here's your chance Slayer. I want you to do it. Let's do it together, put me out of my misery."

"No Spike. I don't want to do it and I don't want you to do it."

Buffy was shaking. When she had woken from her strange dreams and heard Spike she had been terrified. She didn't understand her sudden intense fear of losing him but realized she didn't have to. The feelings, whatever they were, were enough for now.

Her dreams had been haunted by images of Spike alone and lost, looking for her, crying out her name but unable to see her standing right in front of him. He was so alone and sad and terrified. In the dream she had felt those emotions coming from him and had wanted to hold him and tell him it would be all right. Then the dream had slowly merged with reality and when she'd stopped him from staking himself she hadn't been sure if she was still dreaming or not. The feelings from the dream were still with her and she realized had been within her for a long time. It was those same feeling that had driven her from her house earlier that evening. She had felt the same way and it had led her here.

His eyes were pleading with her. She couldn't deny him the comfort he needed anymore than she could deny herself fulfillment of the aching need to care for him.

"Please Spike. I don't know what any of this means but we both need right now and no one else gets it. Don't leave me alone. I can at least admit that we understand each other. I can also admit that I was terrified when I saw you standing here with this stake in your hand. Let that be enough for now. Give us time to figure this out."

"But you don't love me." He said desperately but eased his grip on the stake.

"No, but I need you. And earlier today I honestly didn't know how I would feel if you were gone but now I know I hate the idea of you being gone. If that change was possible in just a few hours, who knows what might happen in time. You have to give us time to figure out what we really mean to each other, why we seem to be drawn to each other."

" Why now? Is this just to stop me from doing this? Are you gonna turn around tomorrow and treat me the same way you always have?"

"Spike, look at me."

He raised his eyes to meet hers and they studied each other warily. He didn't struggle with her when she took the stake from him and threw it into the corner out of reach. She kept her hand entwined with his and drew him over towards the bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed not breaking eye contact or letting go of his hand. She scooted backwards towards the center
of the bed and he was forced to follow her kneeling on the bed beside her. He wasn't sure what she was doing but he was emotionally exhausted and unable to do much of anything but what she led him to do.

"Let's not talk for now. Words between us just get in the way. This is our quiet place. I just want to stop talking and stop thinking for a while. Can we do that? Will you do that? I promise that whatever happens outside this room will never matter when we're here. I'll always be here for you no questions asked if you'll do the same for me. Here in this crypt and in my
bedroom we don't have to have any answers or justifications, just this promise to forget everything else and understand each others needs like we seem to do despite all of the reasons we shouldn't."

He didn't know what to do or say. She looked desperate yet hopeful and he wanted so much to hope that this would work. She was offering him the comfort and care he had always wanted. He didn't trust her and he knew she didn't trust him but maybe they could learn to trust each other on the limited basis she had suggested. He realized he was willing to try. He
could always stake himself later.

"O.K. I'll try it if you will."

*He looks terrified* she thought. She nodded her head and lay down on her side drawing him with her until his head rested near her stomach. She put her arms around him and held him like she had wanted to do in her dream. He stiffened at first and then relaxed into her embrace. Eventually the warmth and comfort he felt from her brake down his defenses. He rolled until
his face was pressed against her stomach so she couldn't see him cry.

She held him quietly all night as his body shook and he wet her blouse with tears. When morning came, just before he drifted off to sleep she gently rolled away from him and got up to leave. They watched each other, but true to their agreement, neither one said a word. She left him there and went about her day. Each of them wondered who would be the first to seek the other out again. It was against both their natures but both were comforted in knowing there was someone to turn to now. Someone who understood without explanation and without words.

******

Two weeks later Spike and Buffy had seen each other but had not been alone together since that night in his crypt. They behaved much the same way they always did. Spike had, however, stopped trying to convince Buffy and everyone within shouting distance that he was in love with her. They traded insults and he was the favorite object of ridicule for the Scooby Gang and vice versa. There had been times when both of them felt the need to be with the other but neither had given in. Both were determined not to until the other did first or until it just became to painful to be alone.

Spike was alone in his crypt just after sunset watching T.V. He didn't want go out because just the night before he'd been jumped by some guys outside Willy's after he'd mouthed off at them. His ribs still hurt and he still had a spilt lip and a black eye. He'd almost gone to Buffy that night but at the last minute had resisted. It meant a lot to him that she be the one to seek him out next. So there he sat watching T.V. and muttering about the pathetic mess his existence had become when he heard someone
knocking on his door.

He jumped up hoping it was Buffy but grabbed a crossbow just before opening the door incase it wasn't. There she stood, eyes dead, face ravaged and body trembling. Spike wanted to ask her what was wrong but that wasn't part of the deal. Acceptance without questions, comfort without words; that was the agreement.

He dropped the crossbow and held out his arms to her. Buffy walked into his embrace, buried her face in his chest and let go. She started sobbing and gasping uncontrollably. Spike couldn't imagine what had caused her to lose control like this but he was glad he could be there to hold her.

He picked her up, kicked the door shut and carried her to the bed. He leaned against the headboard and held her in his lap like a child until she fell asleep. He wanted to know what had happened, he wanted to talk to her. It was only the second time they had met like this and already he wanted to renegotiate the terms. He knew, however, that he couldn't. It had taken something very serious to get her here and he didn't want to do anything to chase her away or prevent her from coming again. Eventually Spike drifted off to sleep with Buffy still clutched tightly in his arms.

She woke from her exhausted sleep and enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her. She realized though that as good as it felt and as comforting as it was, it wasn't enough. She wanted to tell Spike about it. She wanted to hear what he had to say. She wanted to talk about how her father had shown up today and taken Dawn away. How she had tried to reason with him, tried to explain that she could care for Dawn. Tell him how her father had treated her like a child and had taken Dawn anyway. She
wanted Spike to know that her heart had broken waiting for her father to ask her to come too and how, even though she knew she couldn't leave her responsibilities, she was crushed when she realized her father didn't want her and wouldn't ask for her to come. She wanted to tell him about walking around the house after they left, remembering Dawn's confused face looking at
her from the car as they drove away. But, no matter how much she wanted to tell him these things she couldn't. She had set the ground rules and she couldn't break them now because they didn't suit her.

She lay there in the silence, remembering every hurtful detail of the day but not hurting as much now that she was with Spike. She occasionally snuck a peek at his face as he slept. His face was relaxed but he held her as fiercely as if he were wide awake. She sighed at the impossibility of their relationship and snuggled closer to him. That's when he woke and looked down
at her with concern in his eyes. Their eyes met and spoke the volumes they couldn't say to each other. They scooted down on the bed and held each other. They both felt safer and more loved that night than either had in a very long time and neither allowed themselves to wonder why.

After that second time, they spent their nights together more often than not. They still didn't speak when they were alone, both were afraid of damaging their fragile relationship. When they weren't alone they still appeared to hate each other. But appearances are deceiving and in their silences was the real truth.

Buffy had known for a long time now that she felt something more for Spike than she was willing to admit. She often brushed over the topic in her mind but refused to dwell on it. She was afraid of her feelings and ashamed of herself for that fear. Spike still loved Buffy, even more than before if that was possible, but he still wouldn't let himself believe that her feelings for him had grown. He reasoned that if she had developed feelings for him she would talk to him maybe even tell him but she never did, so
he tried to be happy with what he had. And so they stumbled through their pseudo-relationship, neither completely happy, but neither one brave enough to try to change things either.

******

It was several months after the first time Buffy came to Spike looking for "freedom" that the two of them finally found some truth outside the silence. Spike was drunk and stumbling back to his crypt in a thunderstorm when he saw a car full of old women sitting outside of a church. Thinking, in his inebriated state, that it would be a great joke to spook the old broads a bit, he snuck through the parking lot until he was standing right in front of them. He slid into game face and waited for the lightning to illuminate his badness standing there. He didn't even have a chance to growl properly before all hell broke loose.

The old bitties started screaming and the one driving slammed her foot down on the gas pedal and hit Spike head on, sending him flying up in the air. He landed behind the car and was barely able to drag himself into the darkness before they backed up over him for good measure.

He was hurt, nothing life threatening, but he was in a lot of pain despite the alcohol in his system. Buffy was all he could think of.
She would take care of him. She would make him feel better. Buffy always made things better. He slowly made his way to Buffy's house, taking a not so silent inventory of his injuries on the way there.

"Ow bloody ow, that's two cracked ribs, a broken finger and two bad cuts on my face. Bloody old bitches, bloke can't even have a spot of fun anymore, only in Sunnyhell...Buffy." He whined her name in a most pathetic manner as he knocked on her door.

Buffy was shocked when she saw Spike on her porch, not because he was there, that was a common enough experience, but because he looked so bad and smelled worse. She could tell he had been drinking...a lot, but how had he gotten beaten so badly? She didn't say a word. She didn't ask any of the questions on the tip of her tongue. They both clung stubbornly to
their agreement not to talk to each other when they were alone. She simply guided him to the upstairs bathroom and started to undress him so she could take care of his wounds.

The thunder rumbled outside and the lightning flashes illuminated the interior of the house from time to time as she cleaned him up and bound his ribs. She tried to keep her mind on caring for his injuries but was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes from wandering over his exposed skin. She'd never been this close to him when he had his shirt off and she found it disturbing. If she was honest with herself she would admit that lately, being close to Spike clothed or unclothed was disturbing.

At some point in the past few months, she'd started to fantasize about him while she slept in his arms. He was always so gentle and his eyes still told her he loved her even if he'd stopped saying it out loud. She realized she desired Spike but she had absolutely no idea what to do about it. She had learned to trust him with her safety while she sought comfort in his arms but
could she trust him or anyone with her heart? She knew that giving herself to Spike would never be purely physical at this point. But was she ready to admit that to him and deal with the ramifications?

Buffy cleaned up her first aid supplies and got a towel from the linen closet, indicating that Spike should take a shower. While she was fussing with things in the bathroom, Spike kicked off his shoes and lowered his pants. When Buffy turned to leave the room she was confronted by Spike's naked backside. She let out a small squeak which he seemed oblivious to. She had her hand on the door knob ready to run for it when he leaned over to adjust the water temperature and she got an even better view of his muscular butt. She was suddenly mesmerized by pale skin and flexing muscles. Then that delicious bit of skin began to rotate out of view and Buffy realized Spike was turning to look at her. Realizing what she was about to get a look
at, her eyes darted away and landed on his face.

He looked amused and confused and for the first time in weeks Buffy was glad they had a no talking policy. She had no idea what she would say. She ducked quickly out the door and went to her room. She sat on the bed hoping her blush would go
away before Spike got out of the shower. It was hard to get rid of a blush though when she kept picturing his naked behind in her head.

Spike wasn't sure what was going on in Buffy's head but he knew she had been staring at his naked bum. He was only slightly buzzed now from his bout with the bottle and his body was starting to ache. Other parts of his body were starting to respond to Buffy and he wasn't sure what to do. She had looked interested but he was terrified of misreading her or pushing her
too far. As he dried off he decided he would just have to control himself and let her make the first move if any move was to be made. It wasn't his style to be patient and restrain himself when he wanted something but he wanted this too bad to screw it up. He was going to put his clothes back on but he realized they were missing. He guessed Buffy had taken them to wash. He put
the towel around his waist and wondered exactly how he was supposed to sleep with her without any clothes on and control himself. Only one way to find out...he exited the bathroom and found Buffy sitting on her bed lost in thought.

******

No talking allowed, so he just waited for her to notice him standing there. When she finally did look up she blushed again as her eyes traveled up his naked torso. Eyes down, she stood up and walked over to her dresser. She pulled out a pair of men's boxer shorts and handed them to him. He waited for her to turn around before letting the towel drop and stepping into the boxers. He had wondered whose they were and now he realized they must be hers because they were much too small. He let out an involuntary groan when he shifted and Buffy turned to look at him quizzically. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed the source of his discomfort. She picked up the towel and handed it to him again giving him permission to remove the shorts and
wear the towel. She turned again and heard Spike sigh as he removed the constricting underwear. *Very constricting* she thought with a bemused smile on her face.

Buffy pulled back the covers on the bed and slid over to the far side. She turned and looked at Spike. He looked uncertain so she patted the space next to her, signaling him to get in. He still hesitated so Buffy let out an exasperated sigh and jerked her head, demanding that he get into bed. He smiled and slid in next to her. She knew she was a goner when he smiled at
her. In all of their time together, he'd never really smiled at her. The full effect of Spike's smile was deadly. She really lost all hope when, still smiling at her, he reached under the covers, pulled out the towel he was wearing and dropped it on the floor.

*Why am I letting him stay here? Yes, he needed someone to look after his injuries but he's obviously OK now. He doesn't really need me tonight. This was supposed to be about comforting each other in times of desperate need. The only desperate need in this bed right now has nothing to do with emotions.*

*Why hasn't she kicked me out yet? She can tell that I'm OK. Yeah I was hurt but I'm not crying on her or clutching her like a big baby per the usual. I thought she'd toss me out the minute I pulled that stunt with the towel. What now?*

They both lay there under the covers, staring at the ceiling, wondering what came next and being very careful not to touch each other. Neither one knew what to do. Neither one had the courage to do what they wanted to do. After laying there in the dark for what seemed like hours they both drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Buffy woke in the middle of the night with a chill. Her behind was cold and she assumed she'd kicked the blankets off and was getting a draft. When she reached down to pull the sheets back up she realized she was fully covered. Her sleep muddled brain took a moment to comprehend what was going on. She put her hand down to feel her bottom and realized it wasn't a
draft that was making her cold but a naked vampire's hands cupping both buttocks. Her discovery shocked her and then, instead of feeling cold she started to feel curiously warmer and warmer. The heat started at the point where Spike's hands met her flesh and worked its way north until she was blushing furiously. She wiggled, trying to dislodge his hands but that just
made her hotter. She was trapped face to face, chest to chest and naughty bits to naughty bits with Spike. To be totally honest, it wasn't so bad being trapped. If she could pretend that it was sort of against her will she could let herself enjoy the feelings spiraling through her body. This time when she wiggled it wasn't to get free, it was in the subconscious hope that Spike might wake up.

She didn't have to wiggle much to get the response she was hoping for since Spike had been awake since she had first reached down to find his hands on her. He could tell that what came after her initial wiggle was more about pleasure than escape. He was tired of the unresolved tension between them so, despite his previous fear that she would reject his advances, he responded to her wiggles by grasping her butt even tighter and pulling until there was no space left between their bodies. She gasped and jerked her head up to look at his face. At that same instant he opened his eyes and smiled at her. That smile did it again. She was lost. She didn't care what her head told her anymore. She didn't care that she had told herself she would
only do this if he initiated everything. She smiled back at him and leaned forward capturing his mouth in a wet, open-mouthed kiss that left them both gasping. The kiss went on and on as Spike nudged her legs apart and rubbed his shaft against her sensitive flesh below. Buffy slid her hands down his back and grabbed his ass the same way he was holding hers. There were
no words between them only moans as they finally gave each other the pleasure they'd been wanting but denying themselves for months.

Spike moved his hands up her back and brought her forward as he lowered his head to her breasts. Buffy squeezed his muscled bottom reflexively as he sucked first one and then the other nipple into his mouth. He licked and nibbled her until she thought she would cum from that pleasure alone. She ran her hands up and down his sides feeling every inch of his cool,
smooth skin. She became frustrated by his seeming contentment to spend all night kissing her breasts. She decided to take matters into her own hands...literally. She stroked his sides making him stretch like a cat and then slipped her hand around to the front of his body and grasped his shaft in her hands. He jumped, almost coming off the bed completely as she stroked
his already painfully hard erection. Their eyes met and glittered with mutual passion and pleasure. Both realized they could n't wait any longer. Long, slow nights of foreplay and slow-burning passion would come later, tonight they just needed each other, hot and fast and hard.

Spike pulled Buffy's hands away and kissed her fingertips as he brought her arms up around his neck. Their lips met in another ferocious kiss as he slid into her warm, wet flesh. They moaned into each other's mouths as he thrust into her over and over again. The pleasure was too intense for either of them to last very long. They rolled together with Buffy ending up on the
bottom. Spike reached down and grabbed her legs at the backs of her knees. He shoved her legs up roughly never breaking his rhythm. With her legs resting on his shoulders and his hands holding tight to her thighs he continued to thrust going deeper now than before. Buffy braced her hands on the bed to give them both more leverage. She was completely exposed and open
to him and it felt so right and so good she knew she had finally found what she had been looking for. Spike had his head down and was pounding in to her as hard as he could. He knew it was what they both needed even though no words had yet been spoken between themBuffy's body began to tremble and jerk with her impending orgasm. She bit her lip to keep from crying out wanting to preserve the intense silence between them. Spike knew she was close and he felt himself nearing the edge.

He lifted his head and met her eyes then slid his hand between them and at the moment he felt his balls tighten he squeezed her clit and released her. He pumped into her two, three more times as he came inside her and her burning flesh fluttered around him. He collapsed on top of her, licking her neck and tasting her sweat. He listened to her pounding heart and heavy breathing as she stroked his neck and clutched him tightly with her legs not letting him pull out. Gradually her heart slowed and she loosened her hold on him. He rolled to his side pulling her with him. He watched her face as she lay there in his arms, eyes closed; contentment written all over her body.

When she opened her eyes to look at him he looked a bit sheepish and uncertain. She smiled lazily and brushed her hand over the lines of concern in his forehead. She wanted to tell him that she felt complete and that she might even be able to admit that she loved him. She wanted to tell him that lying in his arms made her feel safe and like she wasn't alone for the first time in a long time. She wanted to tell him that she would always be there for him and that he didn't have to be alone anymore. She wanted to tell him everything but she didn't know how.

Spike was hesitant to break the silence but he had to tell Buffy what she meant to him. He had been silent all these months and hadn't forced his love on her but he couldn't hold back anymore. He was awkward when it came to these things though. He wasn't sure how to say it. He was afraid she might shut him out again, that she might regret what had been the most
perfect moment of his existence. Instead of pouring out everything he was feeling he simply broke their silence by asking,

"How do you feel?"

Buffy thought he looked adorable and terrified when he spoke. She realized that he was just as affected by their lovemaking as she was and that he was just as scared, even more so, than she. Then it came to her; the perfect way to express everything she was feeling and everything he needed to hear.

"Pet, how do you feel?"

"Free."
That one word was all he needed to hear from her. He thought back to that first day in his crypt and knew that she had finally come around. She could finally admit to herself that he was what she needed. He too, finally had all the comfort and love he had missed.

"Spike?"

"Yes luv?"

"Now that we know that we love each other and have all of these ooey gooey, "of the good" feelings out in the open, what exactly happened to you tonight?"

He didn't even have the decency to be embarrassed as he told her the story of the old women he tried to scare as a joke. She stopped him right at the part where they were speeding toward him about to hit him with the car.

"You know what Spike? I think maybe we should think about sticking with the silence policy. It might prevent me from kicking myself for loving you."

"But don't you want to know what those daft old bluehairs did to your precious Spike?"

"I think I can imagine and I think you deserved it."
"OK maybe I did deserve it but I was only tryin to have a little fun."

Buffy just rolled her eyes and settled in for one of the most peaceful night's sleep she'd ever had...until she woke up with a vampire's head between her legs that is, and she really didn't mind the disturbance if the truth be told.

The End

 

 

© 2001 Death-Marked Love