Dreams Do Show Thee to Me by SpikesDeb

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Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Well folks, this is the final chapter. Hope you've enjoyed, and thanks so much for the comments. It's been a fun ride.

Buffy snuffled, rubbing at her nose sleepily as her eyes blinked open. She wiped drool from the corner of her mouth, grateful for the cool pillow she was lying on.




It wasn't very pillow-like though; where it should be soft and squishy it was hard and muscled...




Muscled?




She sat up and tried to focus in the half-light of dawn, groping for the switch on the bedside lamp. The soft glow of the bulb illuminated the other occupant of her bed, his hair mussed, eyes hooded, cheekbones thrown into sharp relief...




“Spike?” Buffy whispered, suddenly dizzy, her extremities tingling and cold as the blood rushed from them. Her head buzzed, her throat was dry and she blinked hard. If this was another dream, it was a damn good one – the hand that rested on the spectre of Spike's pale chest could feel every contour beneath it.




“Mornin', love,” he rumbled, folding his arms behind his head and fixing her with a hopeful stare. He was seriously nervous now that it came to the showdown. Belatedly, he remembered that Buffy was not a morning person and wondered whether it would have been better not to be at her mercy while she was still dealing with coming awake.




Too late now...




Buffy gasped in a breath, realising that she'd not been breathing – hence the dizziness – and jumped out of bed, hand to her mouth.




“Spike ?” she queried again, her voice trembling along with her limbs.




Spike pushed himself off the bed slowly and walked around to stand in front of her. She looked as if she was about to hightail it out of there, so he tried not to spook her further. Her eyes were wide and her skin where he softly gripped her upper arms was clammy. She was in shock.




When Buffy whimpered and tears tracked down her cheeks, Spike grabbed her close and crushed her in his arms, whispering garbled nonsense.




“Buffy, love, I'm here – never gonna leave you again. I love you so much. Stupid, that’s what I am. You feel so good, love.”




Buffy cried against his chest, clinging to him with slayer strength and all but cracking his ribs. Spike hissed against the pain but didn't move; he figured it was nothing less than he deserved. Why he'd ever thought he was doing the right thing by not coming to find her, he really couldn't say. Holding her close to his unbeating heart made him feel whole for the first time since he'd come back from the Hellmouth. His own tears ran down his cheeks to mingle with Buffy's as they dripped to his chest.




Eventually, Buffy stopped sobbing and straightened up, her face still buried in his chest. He struggled to hear her soft voice as she spoke without raising her head.




“Is it really you? I'm not dreaming?”




Gently, he lifted her head with a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. He gulped hard, lost in her eyes for a moment, unable to speak. She was so beautiful...




“Yeah. It's me. I'm here. God, love...” His voice faltered as the culmination of all his plans came to a head. “I've missed you so much. And yeah, I know, there's gonna have to be a Spanish Inquisition, but ...I just need to look at you right now.”




Buffy shook her head slowly, and Spike clenched his jaw. He hadn't expected it to be easy, so he shouldn't be surprised that she'd want to rip him a new one. He was dumbstruck when she spoke.




“Need more than looking, Spike. Can you kiss me? Prove to me that you're real? I've done enough thinking and wondering, and you bet I'm gonna need to hear the full story – but right now, I'd rather be kissing you.”




Spike needed no further urging, his lips brushing softly against hers, tentative now that she was awake and fully aware of him. Buffy set the pace, gripping his shoulders fiercely before her hands cupped his face, stroking his skin and tangling in his hair. She moaned against him, his lips parting as she swept her tongue along his lips and forced entry into his mouth. He was more than happy to meet her halfway, the kiss becoming frantic as they both tried to get closer, get more of each other. His hands roamed her body, moulding her to him and for the first time since they woke, it seemed they both became conscious – at the same time – of the fact that they were naked.




Very aware...




Spike walked backwards to the bed, Buffy hopping on one leg as she wrapped the other around his hip. They fell in a tangled heap as the bed hit the back of Spike's knee, Buffy splayed across his body and scrambling up to sit astride him, relinquishing his lips reluctantly. She was panting, her eyes smouldering as she greedily drank in the sight of him. Big thoughts tried to intrude, but Buffy pushed them away. They could wait. Her horny, needy body couldn't.




“God, I've missed this,” she moaned as she fell forward, her lips leaving a wet trail down from his lips and along his neck. She nipped him playfully, delighting in the growl and the tightening of Spike's fingers where they gripped her shoulder. Teeth and vampires, always a winning combination in Buffy's experience, not that she'd had that much experience... but she was going to remedy that.




Buffy moved lower, licking and sucking at the hard muscled flesh on Spike's chest, grinning against him as she darted out her tongue to swirl around a suddenly hard nipple. She wriggled against him, the vampire letting out a strangled whimper as he began to lose control. Her breath was stirring the curls at his groin and Spike fisted his hands in the bed covers to stop himself from moving. Although the demon was demanding a battle for supremacy, he was content to leave Buffy in charge, so long as she got her hot little mouth busy soon.




Buffy blew softly on Spike's erection, a curtain of golden hair hiding her from his burning eyes. Smiling at her own naughtiness, she grabbed her tresses in one hand and very deliberately swung it out of her face so that she could watch his reaction. She licked her lips then opened her mouth wide to slide down his cock while she pumped it with her other hand. Spike bucked beneath her, growling as his eyes flicked from blue to amber and back again, his fangs lengthening to cut his own lip as he tried to stifle the inhuman roar that threatened to tear from his throat.




As Buffy felt him stiffen, she let his cock go with a soft pop, crawling up his body to slide down his length before he could protest at the loss of her heat. She moved slowly at first, rocking against him, her fingers moving along his chest, touching as much of him as she could. Spike was fully vamped now, but Buffy found that she wasn't repulsed in the slightest, far from it. The sight of him licking his fangs with a tongue reddened by his own blood sent her pulse rocketing and she fell forward to crush her lips to his. The prick of pain when his fangs sliced her flesh lasted only moments as she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, sucking hungrily as the taste of him flooded her senses.




Spike tried hard to think of anything other than the taste of their blood mingling in his mouth. He was about to explode and needed to calm a little, rolling them both so that Buffy was beneath him on the bed, looking up at him with hungry eyes when he drew back to watch her. She surprised him by tracing her fingers over his ridged brow and fangs, never dropping her gaze. He knew what she was doing; she was telling him without words that she wanted all of him.




It was having the opposite effect to what he intended, him being in control, as he clearly wasn't. He might have been on top, but Buffy was in charge ---- as always. All finesse deserted him when Buffy arched her back and bared her throat, tracing her fingers down along her pulse-point and across the swell of her breast. It was a clear invitation, and one he didn't intend to refuse. In all the time they'd been intimate, he'd had barely a lick of her blood; there'd been the odd clash of teeth and lip, a ripped tongue here, a bust lip there – but if he discounted the time he was possessed by the First and swept his tongue over her gashed arm, this would be the only time he'd done it with her knowledge.




Buffy moaned; what was taking him so long? Could she be any clearer with her invitation?




“Spike ----”




It was a plea. Spike answered it.




His cock swelled inside her as his fangs punctured her pliant flesh. His senses were taking in every iota of information they could, a jumble of feelings and tastes, while being at the same time clear and concise. His head was spinning as he suckled at her throat, her blood hot in his mouth as he gulped it down, lamenting the loss of her precious fluid as he felt some of it run past his lips. Buffy moaned at the double penetration, wondering why the sensation of the blood that escaped his tongue and ran down her chest in a cooling rivulet was quickening her pulse and making her buck towards him.




She'd thought that nothing could eclipse that first time when they'd literally brought the house down.




She was wrong.




The past year, the loss and the pain, the regret and the guilt for not treating him right when he'd done everything he could to make her whole – it was all disappearing as he reclaimed her body and soul. She'd told him she wasn't ready for him not to be there, she recalled, and it seemed a lifetime ago. She knew now that she'd never be ready. Just to make sure he didn't leave, Buffy wrapped him tighter with her arms and legs, her body aligned perfectly with his as he thrust into her with agonisingly slow strokes.




Buffy's eyes widened as she felt her orgasm build slowly and powerfully; Spike withdrew his fangs and lapped at her flesh to seal the wound, each lick of his tongue tingling along her nerve-endings. His golden gaze focused on her to the exclusion of everything else and in the arms of the demon she should abhor, Buffy found perfect peace and completion, nipping at his lips hungrily as her body shuddered in synchronisation with his own.




Panting, exhausted, satiated, Buffy murmured into Spike's shoulder as he rested against her and stroked her hair. His weight upon her was reassuringly heavy but not smothering. Just right. She told him so in ragged phrases interspersed with kisses.




Spike could barely move. He'd never expected Buffy to want all of him, hadn't dared hope that. But from the way she'd reacted to his bite and from the words she was muttering almost unintelligibly against his skin while running her hands up and down his back, it seemed that she did. He swallowed down a sob. Typical of the soppy poet to want out now...




Reluctantly, Buffy wriggled, trying to stop the pins and needles spreading from her butt down her legs. She didn't want to move and lose the moment, but her body had other ideas.




Spike slid off her to lie beside her, resting on a bent elbow as he gazed down at her. He realised he was still in game-face and willed the change back to human guise. Deep blue eyes held hers captive, his fingers seeking out hers to twine with them and pull their clasped hands towards his lips so that he could kiss her knuckles.




Lots needed to be said, and nothing at all. So, for a while, they lay there simply looking and touching.




The sharp rapping on the door startled them both, Giles' worried voice carrying clearly.




“Buffy? Are you alright? When you didn't appear for breakfast I----”




Spike's soft chuckle rumbled through his chest and he whispered, “wanna see a Watcher go all Rambo?”




Buffy giggled and nodded, having no idea what he meant but willing to do anything he suggested right now.




“Oi! Rupes! Keep it down would ya? Been a busy night, and I've only had a little snack ----”




Giles barged through the door, eyes wild as he sought out the slayer, clearly expecting a drained corpse or worse. He pursed his lips and swept off his glasses in irritation as Buffy and Spike clutched at each other and roared with laughter.




Eventually, Giles cleared his throat. “Very amusing, I'm sure. And now that my pulse has returned to normal and I'm not in danger of heart failure, I'll leave you two to...ahem...get dressed.” It appeared that his brain had finally caught up with his eyes and he backed out, flushed with embarrassment. As he began to drag the door closed, Buffy called after him.




“Giles, I'm...I'll talk to you soon, once I find out what's going on. What is going on?” She turned to Spike and tilted her head, and Giles backed out with a smug smirk and wink at the squirming vampire. He wished him good luck in explaining his continued absence and his seemingly miraculous return from hell.




In the hallway, Giles took a moment to lean against the wall and wipe at his damp eyes. He didn't doubt that there would be a bumpy road ahead for the young woman he thought of as his own daughter, and the annoying yet charismatic vampire that clearly adored her. But hearing the tinkling laughter that had greeted his storming of Buffy's bedroom and seeing the way she moulded herself to the creature at her side, he knew it would be a road she'd want to travel. And he'd walk beside her and help her if it got rough.




Hell, he'd help the vampire too. Spike had achieved the impossible, it seemed, bringing Buffy back from the oblivion she'd been heading for, altering his own previously resolute belief in the inability of demons to love. Shaking his head as he walked away from the raised voices emanating from Buffy's room, he muttered at the change in himself, all caused by the determination of a vampire and his undying love for the Slayer. The Council would spontaneously combust when they got word of this.




“The earth is doomed...”




THE END

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