Summary: Buffy Summers is the blind daughter of a wealthy business man. Spike Tyler is the misogynistic ex-cop hired to kill her. With five hundred grand on the line and LA's finest police hot on their tail, will Spike be able to go through with it? More importantly, will he be able to look past the abuse he experienced as a child and see that not all women are who he made them out to be? Warning: Character death.
Rating: NC-17
She could hear the voices to her left. They seemed so far, but she could make out their words with perfect clarity.
"I'm sorry, but your son didn't make it."
That sound. That awful, awful sound. So much pain, so much agony in the mother's cry. She never wanted to hear that sound again.
Footsteps approached her then and stopped at her bedside. She wondered who it was, but for some reason, she couldn't open her eyes. It was all so dark.
"Miss Summers? Are you with us?"
"Where's Riley? I need to see him."
Silence.
Worry pierced her heart. The mother's wails could still be heard in the background as she wept for her son... and it was then that she recognized the mother's voice.
Riley's mom.
"Oh, god, where's Riley?" she demanded. "Where is he? Tell me!"
"Calm down, Miss Summers, you're going through a trying ordeal. You don't want to hurt yourself--"
Her throat constricted as everything seemed to come together. "Oh, god! Oh, GOD! Riley! He's dead! He's dead!"
Tears started to stream down her face, as she thrashed on the bed. Hands appeared out of nowhere, holding her down.
"He's dead! He's fucking dead! Please, no!" she sobbed, trying to break free of the doctors' hold. "Please... no... no..."
Her voice grew softer as her pleas ceased. In no time at all she felt herself sink deeper and deeper into the darkness, unknowing of the fact that she would never escape it...
"No! No, no, please!" Buffy shrieked, her arms and legs flailing about. "He can't be dead! Let go of me! Let GO of me!"
"Bloody hell! Wake up, Buffy!" Spike shouted, shaking the tormented girl. She scratched at his arms and screamed at the top of her lungs. He had been with her for almost two weeks now, and never once had she had a nightmare like this. "Wake up!"
Her eyes opened suddenly, wide with terror and pain. She sat up, and Spike noticed that her entire body was shaking.
"God. Are you alright, love?"
Buffy looked around frantically, still only seeing the darkness. "Spike? Where are you? I-I can't see you..."
"I'm here, Buffy," he said, reaching out to touch her face. "Shh, it's alright. You were just havin' a nightmare."
"No, no, no. Not again," she cried, tears falling down her cheeks. "It wasn't a nightmare. Riley's still dead and I'm still blind. It wasn't a nightmare, Spike. I-It really happened. Oh, god, I can't do this anymore!"
And then she was crawling into his arms, wrapping her tiny body around his and sobbing into his shoulder.
Spike held her tightly, trying to give her the solace she so desperately needed. But part of him knew that nothing could be done to make her forget. He couldn't change the past and he couldn't erase her memories. What happened to her three years ago would forever haunt her, and he couldn't do anything but hold her close and let her cry. It could never be enough, but it was all he had to give. Words were meaningless in times like these.
Buffy continued to mourn in his embrace, still shaking from the dream. She hadn't had one so vivid in years. But the only thing different now was that she wasn't alone. And she never wanted to be alone again--it was always worse that way.
Sniffling back her tears, she lifted her head from the crook of his neck. She would give anything to see him right now. His eyes were blue, but how blue? His lips were soft, but what shape? She tried to draw an image of him in her mind, but nothing fit. Instead she reached out her still quivering hand, and cupped the side of his face. His skin was like silk beneath her palm and it was warm to the touch. "Are you in love with me?" she asked.
He froze, thrown by her question. Where the bloody hell did that come from? Swallowing, he answered her. "I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone."
She smiled, hand still resting on his face. "We're all capable of loving, Spike. The hard part is actually finding it."
"Why are you asking me this?"
Buffy shrugged her shoulders, and looked down almost sheepishly. "Sometimes I wonder if Riley knew that I loved him. What if he died and didn't know?"
"I'm sure he knew," he told her.
"But what if he didn't? I mean, I could die tonight and never know if anyone truly loved me."
"Buffy..."
"Do you know how scary that would be?" she continued. "To know that you lived a life without love?"
"Buffy, people love you. Your mum and dad. Riley and Angel."
She let out a deep breath. "I guess. I just worry sometimes. I don't want to die alone."
"Chin up, love. You're not going to die anytime soon."
"So says the guy who plans to kill me."
Spike scowled. "I'm not going to kill you."
"We'll see."
He frowned at that, hoping his little act earlier hadn't scared her too much. "I'm sorry about before, Buffy. I was just trying to..." He sighed. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No," she said. "I don't care about that."
"Then what is it? You're actin' like it's the end of the world or something."
She shook her head. "It's just..."
Spike noticed her voice catch in her throat and the tears begin to swell in her eyes. "It's what, pet?"
"I... I just want it to go away. Can you make it go away?"
"Oh, Buffy..." He pulled her close again, as her tears fell. "I wish I could."
"But you can," she murmured into his shoulder. "Just for one night you can."
This caught Spike's attention and he took her by the shoulders, so he could look into her eyes. He knew her meaning all too well. "Not that way," he explained. "Not like that."
"Why not?" she sniffed. "Don't you want me?"
"That's not the point."
"Sure it is. You want me. I want to forget. So we have sex."
Spike growled. "That's not the kind of girl you are."
"No, but it's the kind of girl I can be."
She then leaned down and began peppering kisses along his neck, biting and nibbling here and there. He felt his cock jump in his pants at her actions, despite his better judgment. She ground her heat against him and he moaned under his breath.
"See? I knew you would like it like this."
Spike finally regained the control he still had left and managed to push her off of him. She landed next to him on the bed, her eyes wide.
"No, Buffy. Not like this."
She chewed on her bottom lip and looked down, as if a wave of embarrassment suddenly hit her. He noticed through the darkened room a hint of blush creep up her face. "I-I'm sorry," she said. "I... I'm just sorry."
Spike watched as she hopped out of bed and carefully made her way to the bathroom. It was really the only place to go when they needed to be alone.
He sighed and lay back down on the bed. What just happened? What made Buffy act that way? He assumed her dream had taken quite the toll on her and she did just want to forget, but he had never seen her behave so boldly before. Except when she was drunk, but that didn't count. And what prompted the question about love? And her fears about death? Something was obviously going on with her--Spike just didn't know what.
A few minutes later he heard the shower turn on. Shrugging, he switched on the television, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon.
About a half an hour went by and the shower was still running. Then forty-five minutes. Then an hour...
Eventually Spike became worried and approached the bathroom door. He knocked lightly. But when there was no reply, he knocked a bit louder. "Buffy? You alright in there, love?"
Still no answer.
He knew that there was no shower curtain, so to open the door would be risking a lot. But somehow he felt that if he didn't open it, he'd be risking so much more. So when Buffy still didn't respond after the first three attempts, Spike slowly turned the door handle. "Buffy?"
He poked his head in and his eyes found the bathtub immediately. Buffy was curled up in a ball shivering, as the ice cold water pelted her from above.
"Buffy, my god," he exclaimed, dashing over to the tub. "What the fuck are you doing?" He quickly turned the faucet off and knelt down beside her. "Buffy!"
She stared straight ahead, teeth chattering. Her lips were turning blue and her whole body was shaking violently. She was naked, her arms wrapping around her legs, bringing her knees up to her chest.
Spike didn't waste another minute, before reaching for a towel and wrapping it around her trembling form. He stood her up on wobbly legs, ignoring the fact that she was standing nude before him. He had to practically lift her out of the bathtub and place her back down onto the cool tile. Her skin was wrinkled from the excessive intake of water and her hair was dripping icy droplets down her body.
"We need to get you warmed up," he told her, pulling the towel more tightly around her and leading her out of the bathroom. He quickly replaced the material with the large bed comforter and used the towel to dry her hair off. "Can I ask what you were doing in there?" he questioned, after a few silent minutes went by.
She didn't answer him right away. Her dry lips parted a couple of times, but no sound emerged from them.
"Buffy, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
Finally, Buffy spoke. "It's all my fault. I just wanted it to go away," she said, her voice dry and raspy. "I just wanted to forget. To forget what I did."
"You didn't do anything, pet," he tried to explain. "And it's not your fault. Riley died because he made a bad choice. You're lucky to be alive."
"But I'm not," she shook her head. "Not after what I did. God, I must have ruined his life."
"I'm sure Riley's in a better place."
She shook her head again, but didn't respond.
Spike sighed. "You should get some warm clothes on you. You're shakin' like a leaf."
"Why do you even care?" she asked him. "Why do you care if I live or die?"
"We've been over this before, love. I care because I care about you. Don't know what you do to me, but I can't help but want to see you well. You've changed me somehow."
Buffy put her head down. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Changing lives. That's what I do best."
He looked at her, trying to see what she was hiding from him. He knew there was something. But instead of pushing the matter further, he stood up and approached the dresser drawers filled with her clothes. Picking out the warmest outfit he could find, he went back over to the bed to help her dress.
But Buffy was already curled up in the covers resting peacefully.
With a sad smile, Spike climbed into bed next to her and tentatively put his arm around her small form. Instead of pulling away, she nestled deeper into his embrace.
Whatever needed to be said could wait until morning.
Buffy groaned as the sun filtered in through a nearby window. A chill washed over her and goosebumps prickled on her naked flesh.
Wait. Naked?
With a squeak, she quickly pulled the covers up over her, shielding her nudity from any wandering eyes. It was then that she realized she was spooned up against Spike's chest.
But naked?!
It took a few moments for her mind to get back in touch with reality. Everything was hazy and blurred. But when the previous night's events finally graced her memory, nausea swept over her and she swallowed back her humiliation. What the hell had gotten into her? All she remembered was waking up cold and naked in the shower. And then Spike came in to save her.
That memory filled her with renewed warmth. The way he had been gentle and careful with her--the way he dried her hair and tucked her into bed. She sighed, unconsciously leaning back into his embrace.
But that still didn't explain why she was taking an ice cold shower in the middle of the night. It was like part of her mind had a huge, black void in it. As if it didn't want her to remember. She gulped at that. When your own brain wants to hide stuff from you, that can never be good.
Meanwhile, Spike was dreaming. It was a good dream. One that consisted of Buffy, warm and naked, spooned against him.
Thankfully, it only took him another minute or so to realize that he wasn't dreaming at all. Buffy was, in fact, warm and naked and currently in his arms. And in all honesty, he had never felt more content. He stirred beside her and she only leaned into him deeper, bringing a smile to his face. "Mornin', pet," he acknowledged.
She must not have noticed he was awake, because she stiffened. "Oh. H-Hi," she stuttered out.
"How are you feeling?"
Buffy blushed. "Stupid. And, well... naked."
"You fell asleep before I could get some clothes on you," he reminded her, arm still linked around her waist.
"I guess I was tired."
"I reckon almost freezin' to death took a lot out of you. Not to mention the nightmare."
She frowned at that. "Nightmare?"
"Well, yeah. Don't tell me you don't remember."
"Okay."
A beat.
"So, you remember then?" he inquired.
"No. But you told me not to tell you if I didn't."
Spike sighed. "Figure of speech, love. How can you not remember that? You were screamin' your soddin' head off. Then you spouted off some rot about death and love... and then you practically threw yourself at me. You don't remember any of this?"
Eyes wide with confusion and embarrassment, she shook her head. She was thankful that her back was turned to him--she knew she was blushing like crazy. "I-I don't remember any of that. I just recall waking up in the shower freezing my ass off."
"Right. Well, that came after. Had me worried sick, you did."
"I'm sorry. I must've acted like a total spaz. But... thank you for helping me," she said, gratefully. "You didn't have to."
"Don't have to do anything now, do I?"
"I guess not. But still--thank you."
He smiled. "Anytime."
Buffy shifted a bit under the weight of his arm, feeling an odd mix of awkwardness and comfort. The awkwardness coming from the fact that they weren't together like that, and the comfort coming from the fact that maybe she wanted--
No, no no. You don't want that. You don't want to be his girlfriend and you certainly don't want him.
She rolled her eyes at her brain.
Spike noticed her shift and promptly removed his arm, almost unaware of the position they were in. Buffy was nude beneath the covers, as they lay in bed together. And even though he was still fully clothed, it was still an extremely intimate position.
Strictly reserved for couples and lovers. Not for them.
With a reluctant stretch, he finally sat up in bed, careful not to pull the covers away from her. "Want some clothes?"
"Sure," she replied. "Clothes come in handy during times of nakedness."
He let a small grin surface as he searched the drawers for some of her clothing. "Almost everything's dirty," he grumbled. "I'll make a stop at the cleaners again today. In the meantime, put this on."
She sat up, holding the sheets to her chest, and took the item from him. "Carebears?" she smiled, immediately recognizing the material.
"Yeah," he smiled back. "It's comfortable, right?"
"Very. All sorts of comfy." Buffy disappeared under the covers to slip on the sweater, and popped back up a few seconds later. Her hair was sticking up from the static of the blankets, and she quickly matted it down. "So, are you going to the one in Sunnydale?"
"I was thinkin' about it. Don't have much of a choice."
She nodded. "Be careful. Angel knows and... well, just be careful."
"Always am," he said, grabbing his keys off the dresser. "You'll be okay?"
"Yes, I'll be fine. I'll go and take a hot shower and write a bit in my journal."
"I should be back in a few hours," he told her. "And I'll pick up some sandwiches for lunch."
"I'd like that. Thanks."
Spike turned towards the door. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" Something was nagging at him. It didn't feel right leaving her alone like this. But taking her with him was just too risky.
"I told you, Spike. I'm good. I'm great. Just go and do your thing, alright?"
"I know, I just..." He had an urge to kiss her goodbye, but quickly dismissed it. "Right then. I'll be back."
"Bye," she said.
"Ta, love."
She heard the door click shut and immediately flopped back down onto the bed with a sigh. Buffy didn't like being alone, especially in a strange place in the middle of nowhere. But she didn't want Spike to think she was incapable of taking care of herself. Sure, she was more vulnerable than most people, but she still had her pride.
Deciding she was too lazy to get up and take a shower at the moment, she instead reached under the pillow and took out a piece of paper and her pen. She instantly began scribbling away...
Just before Spike reached the door to the hotel, Vince stopped him.
"Where ya goin'?" he demanded, leaning forward on his desk.
"Out," he mumbled, in a hurry to get out and get back.
"Is the brat upstairs?"
"Where else would she be? And she's not a brat."
"Whatever, dude. You comin' back soon?"
He sighed. "In a few hours. And make sure... just keep an eye on her, okay?"
Vince grinned. "Not a problem."
Spike hurried out the door and into the morning sun.
~~~
"Tra la la la la la la," Buffy sang, writing away on her paper. "One banana, two banana, three banana, four... something, something, something, and I forget the words... tra la la la--"
She was cut off when the sound of the door creaked open. Spike's back already? That was fast... "Something the matter?" she asked, curiously. "I thought you said a few hours. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. And hey, I can deal with dirty clothes. Or we could just wash them in the tub like they did in the good old days. Then we can hang them up to dry and..." Her voice trailed off when she realized she was not only babbling, but Spike had yet to respond. "Spike?"
"Sorry to disappoint, sweetcheeks."
Her eyes grew wide when she recognized the voice. "V-Vince. Hi. I, um, wasn't expecting you."
"Blondie told me to keep an eye on you. Does that bother you?"
Yes! Go away, you big, scary guy! "No, no. I was just... surprised."
He grinned and closed the door. "But you like surprises, yeah?"
"Uhh... depends on the surprise," she laughed, awkwardly. A gulp managed to accompany the awkward laugh when she heard him getting closer. "I'll be fine, though. You really don't need to be here."
He crossed the room, and was suddenly leaning right over her. "I beg to differ, darlin'."
~~~
Spike hummed idly to himself, as he drove down the deserted dirt road. Mostly to get his mind off other things. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in time with his humming, and he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. "Bloody hell," he grumbled, coming up empty.
Luckily, there was a gas station right before his exit, so he pulled into the parking lot to buy a pack. Turning off the engine, he jogged inside. Before heading towards the counter, Spike decided to check out one of the isles and pick up some Tylenol. Snatching the small bottle, he quickly turned around but stopped in his tracks.
The row of condoms caught his eye. Yeah, right, you sod. Like you'll be needing those... But an image of Buffy grinding her small body against his flashed into his mind. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a box. "Just in case," he muttered, and hurried off to the check-out counter.
"You all set?" a tall brunette asked.
Spike nodded and reached into his pocket for his wallet.
Only he couldn't find it. "Bloody hell," he groaned, double-checking each pocket again and again. Finally, he looked up at the woman apologetically. "I forgot my bleedin' wallet. Mind if I come back?"
"Whatever," she shrugged.
He nodded, and made a swift exit.
~~~
Buffy scooted towards the opposite end of the bed when she felt his presence above her. "R-Really," she insisted. "I'm fine, I swear."
"That you are," he leered, licking his lips. She really was a pretty little thing.
"I-I mean, I don't think it's necessary, you know? Spike just worries. And--"
"I think I like your mouth better when it's shut," he decided, staring at her perfect cherry lips. "Even though I could put it to much better use."
"I don't think so." She was definitely scared now. Blind, half naked under the bed covers, and with no one to save her--she was in trouble. With a quivering breath, she whispered, "Please don't hurt me."
"Hurt you? Baby, that's the last thing on my mind." He paused to reconsider this statement. Then corrected himself with a sneer: "Well, it's not the first thing, anyway."
Buffy didn't think twice before darting out of the bed. But she didn't get far, because Vince immediately clamped his pudgy hand around her upper arm and threw her back down.
"No!" she gasped, struggling to break free of his hold. "You don't want to do this."
He climbed on top of her, pinning her arms above her head and holding her legs still with his own. "Sorry, but I really, really do."
Meanwhile, Spike was speeding back in the direction of the hotel cursing up a storm. "Can't believe I forgot the fuckin' thing," he mumbled under his breath, turning into the hotel lot with a squeal of his tires. "Waste of bloody time this is."
Stepping out of the car, he slammed the door shut and headed inside.
"Stop it! Get off me, you jerk!" Buffy screamed, squirming in his grasp. Unfortunately, her attempts only seemed to encourage him.
"Yeah, that's it," he laughed. "Scream as loud as you want, peaches. Nobody's gonna hear ya."
Tears started to spill down her cheeks as she struggled. I'm going to get raped. Right here, right now, her mind was telling her. "P-Please... please stop this," she cried.
He answered her by ripping her Carebears sweater right down the middle.
"NO!!" she shrieked.
"Oh, yes."
Spike stopped at the base of the staircase when he heard the scream.
Buffy's scream.
Moving on pure instinct, he ran up the stairs two at a time and started banging on the door. "Buffy!"
"Stop it, stop it... oww!" he heard her cry.
"Fuck!" he growled. Instead of bothering with the keycard, he decided to put his police training to good use. Taking a step back, he ran forward and kicked the door down with all the momentum he could muster. It crashed to the floor and Vince jumped up off the bed.
"Spike, dude, I was just--"
"I'm gonna rip your fucking head off."
Buffy quickly pulled the covers back up and listened as Spike charged at the larger man.
"Get off me, man! I was just playin'!"
Spike didn't hear him and began pummeling his face with his fist. "You son-of-a-bitch. How dare you fucking touch her!" he shouted.
Vince finally regained his strength and pushed Spike off of him. But it wasn't long before he was tackled once more and Spike was reigning more punches to his face.
"Ow! You broke my fuckin' nose!" the man cried in pain.
Finally deciding that his work was done, Spike stood up and dragged a bloody Vince to his feet. "If I see your ugly face again, I swear to God I'll be breakin' more than that."
"You're kickin' me outta my own hotel?" he demanded, incredulously, red fluid dripping down his battered face.
"I'm kickin' you out of this goddamn town."
"But--"
Punch.
Vince went flying backwards and landed on the broken plank of wood, that used to be the door.
"Out," Spike seethed.
Getting the message, Vince scrambled to his shaky feet and hurried out the door and down the stairs.
Letting out a deep breath, Spike picked up the broken door and leaned it against the entryway the best he could. "We need to get out of here," he said quietly. "Vince knows where we are. There's no tellin' what he might do."
Buffy swallowed back the remnants of tears, but didn't say anything. She clutched the blanket to her chest, her eyes wide and glossy.
"Are you hurt?"
She nodded.
"Where?"
Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. So instead of telling him, she lowered the blanket.
Spike frowned and stepped closer to her, trying to see where she was injured. "I don't see anything."
Buffy blushed and carefully pushed the material of her sweater aside. "H-He bit me," she finally said softly.
He sat on the bed next to her, eyeing her chest. But the wound still wasn't fully exposed and he reached out a tentative hand to move the ripped sweater aside. "Can I?" he asked hesitantly.
She finally lowered her arms and nodded, trying to force back the rush of blood to her face.
Taking the soft fabric between his fingers, he moved it slowly to the right, eventually revealing the extent of her injury. There was a large welt on the swell of her breast that was already starting to bruise. Teeth marks were evident, along with traces of blood. Spike's own blood boiled and he had to clench his fists together to keep from breaking something. "If I see that bastard again, I'm going to kill him," he forced out, trying to keep control over his emotions.
"I'm okay," she lied, trying to ignore the fact that her breast was still exposed to him. "It just stings a little."
"God..." he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. I should never have left you here alone."
"You couldn't have known this would happen."
He closed his eyes and re-opened them, then covered her chest back up. "I picked up some things last time I went out," he explained. "I have some bandages and alcohol."
"Okay," she nodded.
Spike stood up and went to retrieve the items. When he returned, he sat back down next to her, a little bit closer than last time. "Here," he said, reaching for her shirt again. "I'm going put some alcohol on it."
Buffy moved the material for him and joked lightly, "Couldn't he have chosen a more convenient place to bite? Although I'm sure you're not complaining."
He paused and glanced up at her. "This is serious, Buffy. I'm not doing this for the free view, you know. You're hurt. I want to help."
"I know. I was just... trying to lighten the mood."
He sighed and returned his attention to her wound. His eyes were fixated on it, his mind running with the possibilities of what could have happened had he not come back. Setting down the bottle of alcohol, he took his finger and grazed it ever so lightly against the surface of the bite mark. He felt her flinch, and couldn't help but notice her nipple harden beneath his touch. Swallowing hard, he removed his hand. "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to put the alcohol on it now. It might burn a little."
Buffy nodded, also not oblivious to her body's reaction to him. "I've felt worse."
Taking that as his cue, he poured the liquid onto a cotton ball and dabbed the injured area as gently as he could.
She hissed and fisted the bedsheets tightly, as the burning sensation washed over her.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned.
"I'll live."
He then took a large white bandage and placed it over her wound. "That should do it."
She smiled softly. "Yeah. Thank you, Spike."
"You're welcome." His fingers lingered on the bandage longer than necessary and his voice lowered, "Just glad you're alright is all."
Buffy shifted on the bed and swallowed, unnerved by his nearness. This isn't supposed to be erotic in any way, Buffy Summers. He's just trying to help you. Get a grip! her mind scolded her, but that still didn't change the way her body was reacting to him. "Um, yeah," she replied. "I'm glad, too."
Spike noticed the breathy tone in her voice, and looked up at her with curious blue eyes. He saw the pink flush on her cheeks, signaling only one thing--arousal. Other parts of him picked up on this as well, and he knew that he should back away before he did something stupid.
But before he could move, Buffy raised her hand and rested it on his own--the one that had been lingering on her bandage. He swallowed and watched in fascination as she lowered both of their hands, so his fingertips brushed up against her rosy nipple. Spike sucked in a breath at the contact and his nether regions hardened in response. "Buffy--"
"I-I'm sorry," she quickly interrupted, dropping her hand. "I'm just being stupid a-and... stupid, and--"
"--I'm going to kiss you now."
She froze. "I... I-I thought I told you to stop asking me that," she stuttered, sensing him near her.
"I'm not asking this time."
The next thing she felt was Spike's mouth on hers--gentle and caressing. She knew she should pull away, but it was as if he was breathing life into her... and there was no way she could pull away from that.
Spike was hesitant at first. The kiss was nothing but a soft whisper filled with promises of more. He wanted to give her a chance to push him away, no matter how much he needed this. But she didn't, so he took what she was giving him and went with it.
Buffy gasped when he finally deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tickle her lips. She invited him inside immediately and the kiss only intensified when their tongues collided.
It was hard now. Brutal and raw and absolutely wonderful. Spike cupped her breast with his hand and lowered her back onto the bed. She moaned beneath him, reaching out her hands and tangling them in his hair.
"Touch me," she whispered, pulling back to breathe. "Please..."
He groaned into her mouth, grinding his cock against the wet heat between her legs. Pushing her tattered shirt up all the way, his hand traveled from her breast, across her flat stomach, and down to her aching juncture. "You're so wet for me, Buffy," he said, before placing another kiss upon her trembling lips.
She swallowed hard and spread her legs wider for him. When his fingers found her clit, she gasped and arched up on the bed. "Y-Yes," she panted.
Spike pinched the hardened bud again, loving the way her eyes widened and her toes curled in response. "Mmm," he sighed. "You're beautiful."
Buffy was about to comment on that, when she suddenly felt his fingers being replaced with his mouth. Consequently, an "oh, god!" was all that came out.
Lowering himself between her legs, he immediately darted his tongue out to taste her. Sweet juices invaded his mouth, making the erection in his jeans harden even more. He wanted nothing more than to take her now, uncaring of the consequences. But instead he continued to pleasure her--continued to lave his tongue up and down her dripping slit and bring a silent scream from her parted lips.
"D-Don't stop," she pleaded, reaching down and taking his head in her hands to hold him there.
"Never, baby." He sucked on her harder, rolling her clit between blunt teeth and nibbling gently on the surrounding flesh. He felt her body tense, on the verge of exploding, and held her hips in place. Giving her swollen clit one last lick, she finally came, shuddering around his generous mouth.
When the sensations subsided, she fell back onto the bed with a gasp.
Spike lightly kissed the inside of her thigh, before crawling back up her spent body. "Did you like that?" he asked softly, running his knuckles over the surface of her tender cheek.
She let out a quivering breath and nodded her head.
He smiled. "Good."
Buffy felt him begin to roll off of her. She stopped him. "What... what about you?" she questioned.
"Nothing I can't handle, love."
"B-But, isn't it better if I... you know, handle it?"
Blush crept up her face and Spike kissed her nose. "Another time," he said. "Right now you need your rest."
She finally let go of him. "But you'll be back?"
"Of course." But before he turned around, he leaned over and kissed her hard, making her gasp. When he finally pulled back, a huge grin was on his face. "I'll never get tired of doing that."
As Spike retreated into the bathroom, Buffy touched her fingers to her lips. "Me either."
"We have to go, pet."
Buffy had fallen asleep in the time it took for Spike to emerge from the shower. She was resting beneath the covers, tossing and turning.
"N-No," she mumbled, eyelids fluttering. "It's not... I just..."
"Wake up, love. You're just dreaming," he tried, brushing a few strands of gold from her damp forehead.
It was his touch that brought Buffy out of her restless state. She opened her eyes cautiously, and smiled up at him when she noted his presence. "Spike?"
"I'm here. You've got to get up though--we need to leave."
"What? Why?" She yawned and stretched, finally sitting up in bed.
"I told you before. Vince knows about us. The police could be on their way as we speak," he told her.
"Do we have to?"
Spike frowned. "Well, yeah. Don't you want to get out of here?"
"I dunno. I don't mind it, really."
"So, what--you thought you'd come back and we'd make this our happy home? We're in a bleeding hotel room in the middle of nowhere. It's not exactly what dreams are made of," he explained.
"I didn't say that. I just..." She sighed. "Where else is there to go?"
"Don't know. Thought we'd play it by ear."
"Lovely," she grumbled.
"Hey, now. It's not like we've got much of an option. I'd like to take you home--"
"What? No way. You'll be thrown in jail the second you step foot in that town."
"So?" he countered. "I belong in jail, Buffy."
"No, you belong with..."
Spike glanced at her, but she stopped herself. "Well?"
Shaking her head, she began to climb out of bed. "Nothing. Let's go."
Buffy sat there for a moment, as she listened to him move about the room collecting their things. She had almost slipped and said something ridiculous. You belong with me. That wasn't really how she felt, was it? It was just her silly emotions getting the better of her. Plus, throw in a little Stockholm-Syndrome, not to mention the fact that he's an amazing kisser, and of course she would be questioning her feelings.
Oh, please. You know you're crazy about him.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to ask him, "Do you regret what happened earlier?"
He paused, mid-packing. "Do you?"
Buffy absently picked at the bedsheets, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm confused," she admitted.
"About what, pet?"
"You. This," she said, gesturing between the two of them. "Pretty much everything."
Spike ran a wary hand through his platinum, blonde hair and sat next to her on the bed. "Buffy, do you want me to take you home?"
She swallowed. "I... I don't know. I mean, I miss my family and stuff, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to go back there yet."
"Why not?"
"Well, the whole freedom thing is kinda nice."
He put his head down and was about to stand up, but Buffy grasped his arm before he could.
"And because I'll miss you."
"That's nice, Buffy, but you don't have to sugar coat it," he sighed.
"That's not what I'm doing."
"What are you doing then? What the hell is going on between us?"
"I-I don't know," she confessed.
He stood up and ran his hands over his face. "This is so fucked up."
Buffy frowned at that. "It's not like I planned this, you know. It's not like I meant to fall for you."
"Well, it's not like I--" Spike stopped, realizing what she had just said. "Wait a minute."
She crossed her arms, almost defensively. "What did you think?" she asked softly. "I didn't want this to happen, I didn't. It just... did. And I don't know what to do."
He swallowed. "I didn't realize you felt that way."
"I came back, didn't I? I let you kiss me... touch me. You know I'm not like other girls. How could you not realize I had feelings for you?"
"Because I didn't want to," he said, sitting back down. "I didn't want to believe that I was someone you could care for or want to be with. I don't deserve that, Buffy."
"God, why does it always have to be about that?" she rolled her eyes. "I don't deserve to be alive, but I am. We both made mistakes in our life, but that shouldn't stop us from finding happiness."
"And being with me would make you happy?" he asked, almost hesitantly.
"I don't know, but I want to find out."
Spike couldn't help the elation he felt at her words. He smiled and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "This might not work," he warned her, pulling back to look her in the eyes. "You know that, right? I could be in jail by the end of the day. I'm a wanted man."
"I know." She put her head down for a moment before replying, "So, can we just pretend that you're not?"
"It's not that easy."
"Well, let's make it that easy." Her eyes suddenly lit up and she climbed over to him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Let's get out of here. Let's just drive and drive. Far away--where no one could ever find us."
"Buffy, that's crazy."
"So? Let's be crazy then. Hell, we wouldn't be in this situation if we weren't crazy. You wouldn't have kidnapped me and I would have left when I had the chance."
"We can't, pet. What about your family? What about your life?"
"We can come back," she continued. "Let's just go. Please? Only for a little while. Let's just... get away from it all."
He sighed and rested his hands on her hips. "Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know. Canada? I've never been there."
"Me either."
She smiled. "So, what are we waiting for?"
Spike didn't know what to say. He knew this wasn't right--he knew he should take her home and turn himself in. This girl was in his arms, asking for a fantasy he knew would only take them so far. Escaping reality was not the answer, no matter how appealing it may sound. And part of him wondered if he was even relevant to her in this fantasy. Was he just a means to an end to help her obtain this unreachable dream? Was she just using him to grasp onto a world she so desperately wanted? Spike didn't know. He wanted to believe that Buffy had honorable intentions and that he wasn't just along for the ride. But part of him also found that sentiment incredibly naive.
Then there was the part of him that just didn't give a shit, one way or another. He would do whatever it took to keep this girl in his life--to keep her out of harm's way and to hand her that fantasy on a silver platter, regardless of the consequences.
And that's the part of him that won.
"Alright," he finally whispered, resting his forehead against her own. "Canada it is then."
"Really?" she squealed, hugging him closer to her. "You mean it?"
"I mean it. But we have to go now--we've waited too long as it is."
Buffy grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She then leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips. "You won't regret this."
Spike placed his hand behind her head, keeping their faces close to one another. "No," he smiled. "I don't think I will."
~~~
"So, how far away is Canada, anyway?"
Spike took a cigarette out from the pack he had just purchased. They were already on their way north. "What part of Canada, love?"
"Hmm... Niagara Falls," she decided, face alit. "I've always wanted to go there."
"I'd say about a day and a half's drive. Maybe more."
"And you have money and stuff?"
"Yeah."
"How much?" she wondered.
"Enough."
Buffy shrugged. "I have $1.22 in case we need it."
He glanced at her, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out through the open window. "I'll keep that in mind."
She sighed happily and leaned back in her seat. This is nice, she thought. A road trip to Canada with a man who made her heart sing. She didn't remember feeling this content in a long time.
Spike, on the other hand, wasn't exactly sharing in her enthusiasm. His mind was reeling with possibilities of what could go wrong and just how much time they had before something did. This was an incredibly risky adventure--and he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted it to continue. As much as he cared for Buffy, living a lie was not something he was prepared to deal with.
But before he could voice his concerns, her voice broke into his musings.
"So, what are you leaving behind?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know... family, friends."
"Oh." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "No family. No friends."
"How is that possible?" she questioned, sadness in her tone.
"It just is. I mean, I guess there's Willy. He's really the only person I've ever considered a 'friend'. But other than him, there's no one."
"Did you guys grow up together or something?"
He nodded. "Yeah. We were mates back in the day. We sort of lost contact a few years ago when his girlfriend died, but we eventually started talking again."
"I get that," she replied. "After the accident, I lost touch with all of my friends, too. Unfortunately, it ended up staying that way."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
She brushed her resentment aside. "It doesn't matter. It's not like we were close or anything. They were just people I discussed the latest fashions with. I never had any real friends."
"Why not?"
"I dunno. Most girls thought I was a brat, just because I came from a wealthy home. I wasn't though--all I wanted was someone I could relate to. Someone I could talk to."
Spike understood that feeling all too well. "Welcome to the club."
Buffy smiled, despite herself. "This is going to sound super lame and everything, but... do you think we met here on purpose? Like, fate or something?"
"It's a nice thought," he agreed. "Too bad I don't believe in all that rot."
"Why not?"
"It's just not somethin' worth believing in. But whatever helps you sleep at night, I s'pose."
She frowned, but didn't reply.
Spike sighed to himself, wondering for the hundredth time what he had gotten himself into. Tossing his cigarette butt out the window, he hesitantly reached out his hand and placed it atop of Buffy's. She responded by entwining her fingers with his.
A sense of security washed over him and he smiled. Because no matter how hopeless their situation seemed, Spike wanted nothing more than to believe that this would all be worth it.
Spike turned off the radio and glanced at Buffy. "You hungry?" he asked. "There's a diner comin' up."
"Yeah, I could eat," she shrugged. "Do you think it's safe though? Being seen in public with me?"
"Not particularly. You wait in the car and I'll see if they'll do takeout for us."
"Okay," she smiled.
He pulled off the main road and headed towards the small diner named Betty's. When they entered the parking lot, Spike turned off the engine and hopped out. "I'll be right back," he told her.
Buffy waited in the vehicle for Spike to return. Her legs were awfully cramped, considering they had been driving for about five hours now. She played with the thought of stepping out for a minute to stretch her achy limbs. They were in the middle of nowhere--she doubted something horrible would happen in the few moments it took for her to gain back her mobility.
Hoping Spike wouldn't see her, she opened her door and climbed out of his car. The sun was warm in the late afternoon and a light October breeze floated through her hair. She sighed in contentment and stretched out her legs.
Spike thanked the elderly lady at the counter for understanding and paid for the two meals. He had forgotten to ask Buffy what she liked, but hoped that a cheeseburger would be okay. He handed the woman the money and headed back out to the car to wait for their food to be ready.
Only he froze when he saw Buffy standing outside, leaning against his black DeSoto. "Bloody hell," he cursed and jogged out the two double doors. "Buffy!"
Her head shot up. Oops. "H-Hey," she stuttered. "Sorry, but my legs were all crampy. I just wanted to stretch. No one saw me, don't worry."
"How the hell do you know?" he demanded, approaching her. "Anyone could've seen you. Do you even realize how dangerous this is? How bloody insane this?"
"I'm sorry," she frowned. "Jeez, you don't have to get all grouchy on me. I was only out of the car for like, two seconds."
"Fuck, you just don't get it, do you? How can one person be so fucking naive?" Spike noticed her eyes gloss over and he took a moment to calm down. "Look, Buffy. I'm sorry I shouted, but--"
"No, don't even bother," she cut him off. "You're right--I am naive. I put all my hopes into a stupid dream that can never come true. You know why? Because I have nothing else to put my hopes into. You don't think I know how dangerous this is? How crazy this is? I do, and it scares the shit out of me. But what else can we do? What is there left to do?" A tear fell down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it aside. "Look, I'm not forcing you to do any of this for me. And if you want to go back, fine. I'm obviously not worth the trouble."
Spike sighed and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "You are worth it, Buffy. That's why I'm doing this. But we just have to be more careful, okay? I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."
His hand was now resting on her cheek, his thumb wiping away the remnants of her tear. Buffy nodded, raising her own hand to rest atop of his. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning her face into his palm.
"For what?" he asked, smiling softly.
"For caring this much. For caring about me."
He swallowed and tilted his head down, so their lips were barely touching. "Can't help it," he confessed, feeling her body rise to reach his mouth. He complied, and leaned down further to capture her parted lips in a kiss.
Buffy's eyes fluttered closed and she sighed blissfully when his tongue entered her mouth and leisurely stroked her own. She cupped his face in her hands and rose up on her tip-toes, loving the way he tasted on her tongue.
Spike groaned in delight, pushing her against the side of the car. He realized if he didn't stop now he would be lost to her, so with all the willpower he could muster, he ended the kiss. They both gasped for breath, as Buffy tried to pull him back to her.
"We can't," he explained, his heart pounding with anticipation and jeans tightening with unfulfilled passion. "Not now. 'Sides, I can't yell at you for bein' out here in the open, when I'm the one keeping you."
"I guess," she pouted, running her hands down his t-shirt clad chest. "I've just been wanting to do that all day."
A grin broke out across his face and he had to stop himself from kissing her senseless again. "In the car with you," he managed, opening the door. "Our food's almost ready."
Buffy leaned up to give him one last peck on the lips, before disappearing into the vehicle once more.
Spike let out a deep breath and turned to head back inside the diner. But just before he reached the doors, his cell phone rang. He cursed under his breath when he recognized the number.
"Hello?" he answered.
"I just came upon some disappointing news, friend."
He closed his eyes and opened them slowly. "Hey, Willy. I was just about to call you," he lied.
"Vince tells me your pussy-whipped."
"Tell Vince to go fuck himself," Spike growled. "The bastard tried to rape Buffy."
"And?"
"And if I ever see him again, I'm going to rip his balls off."
Willy sighed. "What's the deal here, Tyler? You're not gonna chicken out on me, are you?"
"I can't kill her, mate. I'm sorry."
It was silent for a while, and Spike waited impatiently for Willy to continue. "You there?"
Finally, he answered. "I'm here. I just hope you know what you're doing, pal."
"To be honest, I don't have a sodding clue. I don't know what's gotten into me--Buffy isn't like anyone I've ever met before."
He laughed, almost bitterly. "I'm sure she's a real peach."
"Listen, I'm sorry for screwing you over like this. But I can't kill her. I..." His voice trailed off.
"You love her," Willy finished. "You fell in love with the little bitch." Another laugh and, "Well, I wish you the best of luck, Tyler."
"I don't--" Spike was about to protest, but didn't. To be honest, he had no clue what he felt for her. "Thanks," was all he said.
"Where are you now?"
"Headin' towards Canada, actually."
It was silent again before, "I see. Is this goodbye then?"
"I don't know. I'm sure I'll be back--I can only run for so long."
"Yeah. Well, keep in touch, alright?"
"I will. But before I go..."
"Yeah?"
Spike was about to ask who was behind the kidnapping afterall, but decided he didn't want to know. "Nevermind. Take care, mate."
"You, too."
He turned his phone off and put it back in his pocket. Glancing at the car to make sure Buffy was still safe inside, he walked into the diner to pick up their food.
~~~
It was already nightfall and Buffy was humming idly to herself. Their hands were linked together, as they drove through the starry desert.
"Tired, pet?" Spike wondered, sparing her a quick glance.
"A little. My legs are sore again, though."
"Want to pull over for a bit? There's really no one out here, but us."
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."
Just to play it safe, Spike decided to pull off onto a side road so they were far enough from the main drag, just in case anyone drove by. He turned off the car, and got out to help Buffy to her feet.
"Mmm, feels nice out."
"It is," he replied, looking up at the stars.
She stretched her arms over her head and bent down to touch her toes. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight. Do you want to crash here for a bit to rest up? The closest hotel is still about three hours from here. We're sort of in the middle of nowhere."
Buffy smiled and reached her hand out in front of her. It came in contact with Spike's chest, and she wrapped her fingers around the material of his black shirt, pulling him close to her.
Spike placed his hands on her hips and pressed his lips against her forehead. "Something wrong, pet?" he asked.
She shook her head and rested it against his shoulder. "No," she whispered contentedly. "I just wanted to feel you in my arms."
"I've got you, baby."
They stayed like that for a while, finding peace and reassurance in the other's embrace. A warm breeze filtered through the air like a soft sigh and relaxed their rattled minds.
"I've got a blanket," Spike said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you want to lay down?"
Buffy nodded, reluctantly removing herself from the safety of his arms.
Spike walked over to the trunk, pulling out a large, white blanket. He always kept it in there in case of emergencies. Closing the trunk, he walked back over to Buffy, and laid it out at their feet.
"Here," he said, taking her hand and helping her onto the soft blanket.
She kicked off her shoes and settled down, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Are you coming?" she asked, hopefully.
He didn't waste another second before taking his place next to her. They both lay on their backs, their shoulders touching, facing the star-filled sky.
"I wish I could see them," Buffy noted, regret evident in her voice.
"See what?" he wondered, glancing over at her.
"The stars."
Spike smiled sadly, taking her hand in his. "Want me to describe them to you?"
"Could you?"
He nodded and looked heavenward. "There's a little cluster of them over there," he pointed out. "I think they call those the Seven Sisters, or the Pleiades. And then there," he continued, "is Orion's belt. That was always one of my favorites."
"What's it look like?"
"Well... like a belt," he decided.
"Who's Orion?"
"Hell if I know."
She giggled. "Do you see the Big Dipper?"
Spike searched the sky. "Nah. But I see the Little Dipper. It's up there, a bit to your left."
"Is it beautiful?"
"They're all beautiful," he said. "But not as beautiful as you."
Buffy rolled her eyes with a smile. "You're such a corndog," she teased, giving his hand a light squeeze.
"I am, aren't I? It's all your fault, you know. I was content in my women-hating ways before you came along."
"Ah, but you never would have met me if you didn't decide to go all kidnapper and abduct me from the sidewalk."
"Might I remind you, you did come willingly."
"True, but that's only because you made up some cheeseball story."
"You bought it, didn't you?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
He sighed. "Alright, love. Point taken. I'm a bad, rude man and I never should have kidnapped you."
"Would it be totally weird if I said I was glad that you did?"
"Well, I guess we're both weird because I'm glad I did, too."
Buffy smiled and rolled over to snuggle up against his side. "I kinda love you," she whispered into the crook of his shoulder.
Spike stilled. "What?"
She nestled closer to him. "Mmm, just hold me."
He did as asked, and wrapped his arms around the woman beside him. As he did so, his heartbeat picked up--not out of fear or nervousness or uncertainty... but because he knew he loved her, too.
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