West of the Moon, East of the Sun (Part III/Chapter 65/?)
Title: West of the Moon, East of the Sun
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Season: An alternate Season 5. Glory and Dawn (and any other characters connected specifically to that arc) do not exist in this universe. Story picks up almost immediately following the Season 4 finale "Restless"
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Buffy/Spike (eventually)
Warnings: Buffy/Other, Spike/Other, coarse language, sexual situations, POV fic, (canon) character death, rape (implied)
Summary: During the day, Buffy struggles with the life of being a teenage girl and the Slayer, juggling friends, family, insecure boyfriends, college, irritating vampires, and saving the world. Her nights, however, are spent dreaming of a pitch dark room, a big bed, and a strangely silent vampire whose face she cannot see...
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and associated properties belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Beta: Phuriedae and Science
Banner image: by Phuriedae
Author's Note: In the last chapter: Buffy confessed her feelings to Spike. Major sexin' was had by all...except Bear, for what I hope should be obvious reasons. Also, KE clearly overplayed her hand and included a random dig at Twilight (the book/movie series, not Angel's flamboyant attempt at being a superhero) which seems to have completely distracted 99% of my readers from anything else that might have happened in that chapter, since that's all most of them have commented on. Anyway, in this chapter, our heroes engage in the time-honored tradition of all people trapped in caves with the object of their affections.
That would be conversation, you pervs. ;)
Also that other thing, but you needn't hide your blushing eyes this chapter.
Chapter 65
Promises In The Dark
A long time later I lay, warm and sleepy, wrapped in Spike's arms. My head rests on his shoulder and my right hand absently traces a barely there scar just over his heart. "Where'd this one come from?" I ask, softly.
He lifts his head to glance down at his his torso, then flops back on my wadded up coat which we're using for a pillow and growls. "Your wanker of an ex," he says. "When he staked me after..." He trails off.
Oh. Right.
Riley seems like such a distant memory now. Like a weird dream that lingered a little too long. It's not that I don't still care about him. I do. But... the hurt is gone, replaced by something so much better I can't even put it into words. "I'm sorry," I say. "About... so much. About Riley. About how we all treated you. I'm sorry I didn't see..."
"In the past now, pet," Spike says, kissing the top of my head. "Couldn't really blame you. Know what I am, what I was. You had no reason to trust me. Can't blame you for instinct. And as for the others...not that I don't appreciate the apology but... fact is, luv, you're not responsible for them. I'm not expecting a happy reunion full of soggy group hugs when we get back. I doubt they were thrilled about you comin' after me in the first place."
I remember Giles' concerns, Xander's suspicions, Willow's eagerness to help... I can't help but sigh. "No, they weren't. They pretty much only helped me get here because Whistler told them it would be a strike against Louhi, and because I didn't really give them a choice."
"That right?" Spike murmurs.
"I believe my words to Giles were something along the lines of 'either help me or get out of my way.' There was much glasses polishing," I tell him. "He may have worn a hole in them by the time we get back."
Spike doesn't say anything, which is so unusual I summon the strength to lift my head up enough I can look at him. He's gazing back at me with the oddest expression.
"This is real?" he asks. "I don't..." When he frowns he gets these little lines between his eyebrows.
"It's real," I promise him.
"Keep expecting to wake up, still dangling from an icicle with no lightsaber in sight," he says. "Can't believe you saw all that, and still decided to walk through hell to get me back."
"I can't believe you went almost a year without talking every night," I say.
He laughs. "Was harder some nights than others," he says, then frowns. "After your mum... would have given anything to be able to talk then."
I have to stretch a little to kiss him, and he moans softly when I do. "I know, Spike," I say. "I read it in your journal. But... you still helped, more than you know. Thank you for... everything. For holding me, and listening. For patrolling. For protecting my friends when I couldn't. Setting Xander's leg. I know you didn't really do it for them, but... you have uh-oh face. What gives?"
He swallows. "Just... only reason Rupes and the Scoobies don't stake me on sight is because of the bloody chip, pet. Now it's gone..."
He's right. Xander is going to major wig.
"We won't tell them," I decide. "Not yet. There's way more important stuff for us to be concentrating on, I don't have time for them to worry about the chip."
"You're not worried that I might hurt them?" he asks, his voice sounding tight. "Still soulless, remember?"
I sit up as much as I can, so I can look him in the eyes. "You're not Angel," I tell him. "I'm not worried. I know you won't hurt them. Not on purpose. You're stronger than you know, Spike." He stares at me with awe in his eyes. I blush, not really sure what causes it. "Besides, once we're done with the world save-age, I would have tried to find a way to get rid of the chip anyway. Just saves us a few research parties, having it gone."
"What," Spike says, those lines coming back. "You'd have... why?"
I shrug. "Because it was wrong," I tell him. "And dangerous for you, and stupid. You remember that night at the Bronze, when we danced? Afterwards I was worried that some human had beat you up, and that's why you wouldn't tell me. And... that robot girl? The kid who made her made it so that if he called for her and she didn't answer, she got zapped with pain. It made me sick, and she was just a machine. Also... not so fond of bad things in people's brains anymore."
Spike has his thinking face on. "Wouldn't be here, if it weren't for the chip," he says softly.
"I know," I tell him. "It... was necessary. Wrong, but necessary. I'm not sorry you had it; I can't be. But I'm not sorry it's gone, either. And when the time comes to tell the others I'll make sure they understand that."
"An' in the meantime, if I muck up and accidentally trip the boy, you want me to pretend I've got a headache?" he asks, looking amused. "You're asking me to lie, Slayer?"
"No, I'm asking you to behave yourself and not muck up anything," I say. "Besides, you're a terrible liar."
"Oi! Evil, here. Lying's part of the curriculum," he protests.
"Well, then you must've slept through that class, cause you totally fail at it," I tell him. "I almost always know when you're lying. Like that whole thing with Adam? Totally saw right through you."
He winces. "Not my finest moment, pet," he says, then sighs. "Haven't had many of those since I landed in Sunnyhell. Everything I've done has been buggered all to hell."
I think about that for a minute. "Maybe from your perspective," I say, mulling it over. "But from where I'm sitting, your plans going kablooey? Not such a bad thing."
"Well, I didn't kill you," he says. "Think both of us are glad those particular plans didn't take."
"I didn't kill you, either," I point out. "And I had lots more chances than you did. So, really, I'm the one who was buggered."
Spike snorts. "Highly doubt that, luv, but if you're feeling naughty some night I'm sure it can be arranged," he waggles his eyebrows at me. I have no idea what I just said, or what he was implying, but I can tell it's probably dirty. And how weird is it that Spike being dirty doesn't really make me want to ewwww anymore? Instead it just makes me wet and squirmy. He sniffs, suddenly, and his eyes flash gold. "Think you like that idea, Slayer..."
"I don't even know what you're talking about! Stupid English words," I protest. He smirks, then bends his head to whisper in my ear at the same time as he rolls his hips suggestively.
Oh.
Oh, God.
"People only do that in pornos," I tell him, my voice a little choked. What he just suggested...
"People do it all the time," he says. "'Cause it feels bloody good, and it's about as intimate as you can get. When you love someone, really love them, there's no such thing as dirty. It's all about trust, pet. Know you're still feeling a bit wobbly in that area, but someday I'll prove it to you: you can trust me. Always. Never deliberately hurt you, Buffy. I swear it. Might fuck up sometimes, but I'll never deliberately hurt you. An' I'll prove it to you, every day, if it takes me until the soddin' sun dusts everything on this this planet."
I believe him. After everything we've been through, everything I've seen, I can't help but believe him.
"I don't think it'll take that long," I tell him, reaching up to stroke one of his phenomenal cheekbones. His eyes do that nearly black thing again.
"Good," he growls, through a grin. "'Cause, gotta tell you, Slayer, you've got one sweet little arse and the thought of..."
I clap my hand over his mouth again. "Uh... let's hold that thought until we're back home and--and, uh, the world isn't trying to end, okay?" I can feel him smirking under my palm, but instead of being a jerk he just presses his lips to the heel of my hand.
And, whoa, I had no idea that that was one of my erogenous zones.
Suddenly I feel like laughing. It's sort of... freeing, being with someone who not only loves me, but loves everything I am, too. Who I don't have to be afraid of physically hurting, who I can let loose with. Explore. Not that sex before was exactly lame or anything, but I always had to hold something back. The idea that with Spike I don't have to hold anything back, that I can try anything, do anything, and he'll be happy to go along for the ride... Hell, I'm pretty sure he'd jump at the chance to teach me everything he knows about sex and then help me research even more.
It makes me happy.
But Spike's face is serious as he stares down at me. "What?" I ask. He looks pained for a minute, then looks away, like he's afraid to say what he's going to say.
"You're going to think I'm a right ponce for saying this... but... jus' can't believe I've got you," he says, finally. "Seems like a dream. Gonna wake up and find it's not true. Or worse, we'll get back to Sunnyhell and you'll decide it was a mistake and tell me to sod off. Or stake me. Or... I'll just be your dirty little secret and you'll treat me the same as always, in front of your chums. An' I'll let you, 'cause now that I've had you I don't know that I can bear to let you go."
If I hadn't had the This is Your Life tour of Spike's past, I don't know if I would be hearing the pain and uncertainty lacing his voice right now. I know I wouldn't have believed it, even if I did. But having seen what he went through with Cecily, and Drusilla...
I reach for him, turning him more on his side so that we can face each other.
"It won't be like that," I promise him. He snorts slightly, but his eyes are searching my face.
"So, what? We pop back and you announce we're an item? Can't see your Slayerettes doin' a chorus of joy."
"They're not going to touch you," I promise him. "Besides, there's that whole prophecy thingie. You're mine, Spike. There's a whole book on the topic. If they've got any problems with that, they can take it up with the Powers That Be."
"Yours," he whispers, that weird look coming back into his eyes. The one that makes me feel like I'm glowing.
"I love you," I tell him, brushing a kiss across his lip, which is almost entirely healed now. He growls slightly, then meets my kiss with a hungry one of his own that quickly has me breathless and panting. I thought he'd worn me out, but the tingles making a quick run south seem to have a different idea.
"Love you, too, Buffy," he murmurs against my lips. "So bloody much." His mouth begins a steady descent down my throat, then over my breasts to my stomach. The cool air on my wet nipples makes me arch beneath him, but he splays one big hand across my lower belly, pinning my hips to the floor. Then his other hand slips between my thighs while his tongue plays with my bellybutton.
"Oh, god," I gasp. "What...?"
"Gonna do something else you probably think they reserve just for pornos," he says with a smirk, his head dipping. Then he pauses. "You watch pornos, Slayer?"
I feel myself blush from head to toe, which makes his eyes flash gold for a second. "Shut up, Spike," I mutter.
"Naughty girl," he murmurs.
And then he shows me exactly the best way to shut him up.
Orally fixated vampires really just need something to do with their mouths, I guess.
***
It's easy to lose track of time, when there's no night or day, and everything outside is howling and white. The storm seems like it'll never stop. When the wood starts to run low, Spike treks out into the blizzard to get more. He always comes back in looking like the abominable snow vamp, knocking clumps of snow from his boots. He sits by the fire until he's warm enough to crawl back into the sleeping bag with me, and then things usually start getting steamy pretty quick.
I love him, but there's no way I'm going to sleep beside a Spike-sicle.
When he comes back from his third trip for wood, however, I notice he's shivering.
"You're cold?" I ask, surprised. He's looking paler than usual, and his eyes are red rimmed.
He makes a face. "Hungry," he admits.
I know how he feels. I'm down to my last two power bars, and I've been eating them in little chunks, to make them last. Still, he went without blood for... well, I don't really like to think about how long he was here before I got here. Now that I'm looking I notice how hollow his cheeks look, how thin he's getting again. I guess that one little drink wasn't nearly enough to hold him over for long. Of course I figured we'd be out of here by now. I hadn't counted on Louhi throwing a blizzard at us.
Spike crouches next to me, his expression serious. "I'll be fine," he says. "Just a bit shaky. I've got a leash on it, Slayer. No need to fret."
"I'm not fretting," I tell him.
"Then why're you're trying to open a vein by rubbing a hole through your wrist?" he asks, cocking his head to one side. I glance down. Sure enough I've wrapped my right hand around my left wrist and I'm rubbing circles over the veins in it with my thumb.
"I wasn't fretting," I tell him again. "I was just... thinking. You went for a really long time without eating, didn't you?"
He gets a pained look on his face. "Longer than a few days," he says. "I'll make it until we're out of here, Slayer."
"Who knows how long that blizzard will last," I point out.
"It's just Louhi having a tantrum," he says. "It'll blow out when she realizes she's sapping her strength. Longer she keeps pelting us with snow, less worried I am about her popping out of the wardrobe right after us." He sits beside me and pokes at the fire with a stick.
"Can she?" I ask. "I mean, now that you're no longer being her Everlast Battery, can she still..."
"Yeah," he says. "Probably. Door is wedged open enough, and she's got most of her underlings runnin' about Sunnydale. She'll find a way. Thing is... with time moving slower here, she's got the time to prepare, yeah? We're gonna get back just in time for her to come roaring after us."
I hadn't thought of that.
"If that blizzard lasts much longer, neither of us is going to be in fighting shape when we get out of here," I say softly. Spike doesn't say anything, just jabs at the fire. I stare down at the blue veins under my skin and remember the last time I offered a vampire my blood. I had no clue what I was in for that time. Now I know and kind of wish I didn't. Still... "There's no reason why we should both be weak and hungry," I say, extending my wrist. "Just... don't take too much, okay?"
Spike takes my arm gently, his cool fingers stroking the skin, making me shiver. After a moment he bends his head and I brace myself for the pain of his fangs.
Which doesn't come.
Instead he just brushes a kiss across my wrist.
"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, luv," he says softly. "But right now any amount is too much. Too cold here for you to lose blood. Besides... won't feed off you, Buffy."
What?
"What?" I ask, surprised. Since when do starving vampires turn down freely offered blood?
A corner of his mouth twists up. "You're... I love you, and I'm not going to dirty that up by feeding off you. You're Buffy, not ... dinner. Though I've no objection to eating you in ways that include other bodily fluids." His eyes drift down my body and I realize that just his sitting beside me and kissing my wrist was enough to get me all wet and achy again.
"Ewww," I say.
"Weren't complaining a few hours ago," he points out.
"You're a pig, Spike," I say.
"Yeah, and you love it," he says, tonguing his teeth and grinning.
"I thought you said that if two people loved each other there was no such thing as dirty," I say. He freezes.
"Balls," he mutters. "Gotta learn to shut my gob."
"I get that it's too cold here," I say. "But... what if we're in a similar situation sometime in the future. You wouldn't drink from me then?"
"Since when did you get all hypothetical?" he asks.
"I'm warm enough, right now," I promise him, confused. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then shuts it, tilting his head to the side with a look of amusement on his face. Then he flexes his jaw a couple of times before speaking.
"What I meant was, first, with any luck we'll never find ourselves in this sort of fix ever again. An' if we do we can talk about it again then. At the mo', however, I'm not taking your blood," he says, seriously. "Aside from that dead bloke back there, I'm on a strict diet from here on out. Considering how hungry I am right now, and how delicious you smell, I think if I can turn down your blood when you're shoving it under my fangs, I'm pretty much past the point of random temptation. I won't give you any reason to have to stake me, ever."
He looks so serious, as he says it, and I feel tears well up and threaten to spill. Spike smiles softly, then brushes his thumb beneath my eye, catching the tear that started to fall. "I'll probably make mistakes, and I'm bound to run off at the mouth without thinking. And I can't promise that I'll always be able to stay on the straight and narrow when it comes to... not nicking things, or gambling. But I swear to you, Buffy, I won't ever deliberately hurt or kill any humans without your permission. An' I'll do my best to protect you and yours, til the end of the world."
"What if something were to happen to me?" I can't help but ask.
"Well, then," he says seriously. "All bets are off and Harris ought to start wearin' himself a full suit of armor covered in crosses."
"Spike," I say, rolling my eyes.
He grins. "First off," he says. "Nothing's gonna happen to you. I'm going to make sure you're the longest lived Slayer in history. Second, even if, god-forbid, something did happen... I'd keep my promise. I'd protect your chums 'til they're old and gray. And when the last of them is gone, I'll go find myself a sunrise and come to find you, sunshine. Figure by that point I'll be so soddin' good Hell won't want to touch me."
There's a teasing note in his voice, but I can tell he means it. Every single word.
I have to kiss him for it.
And of course, once I start kissing Spike it gets really hard to stop.
***
I wake up a day or two later, wigged out at the silence.
And it's only then that I realize that it hasn't BEEN silent since the storm started.
"Wake up," I say, nudging Spike. He's wrapped around me, his body deceptively warm from the heat of the fire in the cave and whatever he's leeched from being tucked into the sleeping bag with me. His face is getting bone-thin again, but he still looks bizarrely beautiful when he sleeps. The bruising is totally gone now and there's only a few thin scars along his bottom lip to show where the damage was. "Spike," I say, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."
He growls softly in his sleep, then cracks an eye open.
"Bloody 'ell, woman," he grumbles, his accent thick and sleepy. "'M all shagged out at the mo'. Think eight hours might be my limit, 'least on an empty tank."
"We did not...shag for eight hours," I tell him.
He thinks about it. "Well if you're counting the snogging, it was eight and three quarters. I'm exhausted," he complains, then his hand creeps up to cup my breast. "But if you insist, Slayer..."
"Spike, the storm stopped," I tell him, blushing and trying to get his brain back on track.
That gets his attention. He goes still, listening. "Sounds like. Let's have a look then," he says. He pulls himself out of the sleeping bag, pausing only long enough to kiss me breathless again, then tosses me my clothes where they've been staying warm near the fire. I pull them on while trying to stay in the sleeping bag, and it's only when I'm ready for my boots and coat that I climb out reluctantly.
I can't wait to get back to the land of heated bathrooms and hot showers.
Spike's swearing as he notches his belt tighter. We've both lost weight, but he's in worse shape than I am, since he never quite got back to full strength to begin with. Pooh has perked up, now that we're up and moving, and moves out of the way when I approach the gap between the caves. Spike assured me, after the first night, that listening to the two of us go at it probably wouldn't traumatize a polar bear, but I can't help but blush a little when Pooh swivels his huge head around to look at me.
Spike edges around me, putting my body between him and the bear. "I thought the two of you were friends, now," I say with a frown.
"Not when he's eyeballing us like we might be a meal, Slayer. He hasn't eaten since we escaped and I've no desire to be bear food," he says.
"He doesn't look hungry," I point out.
"Neither do fashion models," he grumps and steps out of the cave. "But I bet they'd gnaw your arm off if you poured some chocolate sauce on."
"You're so weird," I tell him and step out to stand beside him.
The snow has piled up deep around the base of the trees, covering a lot of the fallen ones. The clouds are gone, and through the few skeletal branches that remain I can see the strange half and half sky again, twinkling with stars. "Think it's safe to move on?" I ask.
Spike sniffs at the air.
"Yeah," he says. "Better now than wait for her to get a second wind."
"Seek," I say, touching the pendant around my throat. The light whizzes out of the necklace and through the trees, dodging around Spike who yelps and moves out of the way. "Looks like we can still get home from here," I say, feeling more cheerful than I have since I started this whole thing. We're nearly there, I've got Spike, he still loves me, I love him, and soon I'll be back in the land of Hot Water. "First thing I'm doing when I get home is taking a long hot shower," I say. "If Louhi wants a fight, she's just going to have to wait."
"Now there is a plan I can get behind, Slayer," Spike says, wrapping his arms around me. "Literally, in fact. Want help scrubbing your back, pet?"
"You want to scrub my back?" I ask, amused. He chuckles, then leans down to whisper in my ear.
"Yeah," he says, his voice husky and promising more sex. "With my tongue."
Chapter 66: Blood and Iron
______________
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Season: An alternate Season 5. Glory and Dawn (and any other characters connected specifically to that arc) do not exist in this universe. Story picks up almost immediately following the Season 4 finale "Restless"
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Buffy/Spike (eventually)
Warnings: Buffy/Other, Spike/Other, coarse language, sexual situations, POV fic, (canon) character death, rape (implied)
Summary: During the day, Buffy struggles with the life of being a teenage girl and the Slayer, juggling friends, family, insecure boyfriends, college, irritating vampires, and saving the world. Her nights, however, are spent dreaming of a pitch dark room, a big bed, and a strangely silent vampire whose face she cannot see...
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and associated properties belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Beta: Phuriedae and Science
Banner image: by Phuriedae
Author's Note: In the last chapter: Buffy confessed her feelings to Spike. Major sexin' was had by all...except Bear, for what I hope should be obvious reasons. Also, KE clearly overplayed her hand and included a random dig at Twilight (the book/movie series, not Angel's flamboyant attempt at being a superhero) which seems to have completely distracted 99% of my readers from anything else that might have happened in that chapter, since that's all most of them have commented on. Anyway, in this chapter, our heroes engage in the time-honored tradition of all people trapped in caves with the object of their affections.
That would be conversation, you pervs. ;)
Also that other thing, but you needn't hide your blushing eyes this chapter.
Chapter 65
Promises In The Dark
A long time later I lay, warm and sleepy, wrapped in Spike's arms. My head rests on his shoulder and my right hand absently traces a barely there scar just over his heart. "Where'd this one come from?" I ask, softly.
He lifts his head to glance down at his his torso, then flops back on my wadded up coat which we're using for a pillow and growls. "Your wanker of an ex," he says. "When he staked me after..." He trails off.
Oh. Right.
Riley seems like such a distant memory now. Like a weird dream that lingered a little too long. It's not that I don't still care about him. I do. But... the hurt is gone, replaced by something so much better I can't even put it into words. "I'm sorry," I say. "About... so much. About Riley. About how we all treated you. I'm sorry I didn't see..."
"In the past now, pet," Spike says, kissing the top of my head. "Couldn't really blame you. Know what I am, what I was. You had no reason to trust me. Can't blame you for instinct. And as for the others...not that I don't appreciate the apology but... fact is, luv, you're not responsible for them. I'm not expecting a happy reunion full of soggy group hugs when we get back. I doubt they were thrilled about you comin' after me in the first place."
I remember Giles' concerns, Xander's suspicions, Willow's eagerness to help... I can't help but sigh. "No, they weren't. They pretty much only helped me get here because Whistler told them it would be a strike against Louhi, and because I didn't really give them a choice."
"That right?" Spike murmurs.
"I believe my words to Giles were something along the lines of 'either help me or get out of my way.' There was much glasses polishing," I tell him. "He may have worn a hole in them by the time we get back."
Spike doesn't say anything, which is so unusual I summon the strength to lift my head up enough I can look at him. He's gazing back at me with the oddest expression.
"This is real?" he asks. "I don't..." When he frowns he gets these little lines between his eyebrows.
"It's real," I promise him.
"Keep expecting to wake up, still dangling from an icicle with no lightsaber in sight," he says. "Can't believe you saw all that, and still decided to walk through hell to get me back."
"I can't believe you went almost a year without talking every night," I say.
He laughs. "Was harder some nights than others," he says, then frowns. "After your mum... would have given anything to be able to talk then."
I have to stretch a little to kiss him, and he moans softly when I do. "I know, Spike," I say. "I read it in your journal. But... you still helped, more than you know. Thank you for... everything. For holding me, and listening. For patrolling. For protecting my friends when I couldn't. Setting Xander's leg. I know you didn't really do it for them, but... you have uh-oh face. What gives?"
He swallows. "Just... only reason Rupes and the Scoobies don't stake me on sight is because of the bloody chip, pet. Now it's gone..."
He's right. Xander is going to major wig.
"We won't tell them," I decide. "Not yet. There's way more important stuff for us to be concentrating on, I don't have time for them to worry about the chip."
"You're not worried that I might hurt them?" he asks, his voice sounding tight. "Still soulless, remember?"
I sit up as much as I can, so I can look him in the eyes. "You're not Angel," I tell him. "I'm not worried. I know you won't hurt them. Not on purpose. You're stronger than you know, Spike." He stares at me with awe in his eyes. I blush, not really sure what causes it. "Besides, once we're done with the world save-age, I would have tried to find a way to get rid of the chip anyway. Just saves us a few research parties, having it gone."
"What," Spike says, those lines coming back. "You'd have... why?"
I shrug. "Because it was wrong," I tell him. "And dangerous for you, and stupid. You remember that night at the Bronze, when we danced? Afterwards I was worried that some human had beat you up, and that's why you wouldn't tell me. And... that robot girl? The kid who made her made it so that if he called for her and she didn't answer, she got zapped with pain. It made me sick, and she was just a machine. Also... not so fond of bad things in people's brains anymore."
Spike has his thinking face on. "Wouldn't be here, if it weren't for the chip," he says softly.
"I know," I tell him. "It... was necessary. Wrong, but necessary. I'm not sorry you had it; I can't be. But I'm not sorry it's gone, either. And when the time comes to tell the others I'll make sure they understand that."
"An' in the meantime, if I muck up and accidentally trip the boy, you want me to pretend I've got a headache?" he asks, looking amused. "You're asking me to lie, Slayer?"
"No, I'm asking you to behave yourself and not muck up anything," I say. "Besides, you're a terrible liar."
"Oi! Evil, here. Lying's part of the curriculum," he protests.
"Well, then you must've slept through that class, cause you totally fail at it," I tell him. "I almost always know when you're lying. Like that whole thing with Adam? Totally saw right through you."
He winces. "Not my finest moment, pet," he says, then sighs. "Haven't had many of those since I landed in Sunnyhell. Everything I've done has been buggered all to hell."
I think about that for a minute. "Maybe from your perspective," I say, mulling it over. "But from where I'm sitting, your plans going kablooey? Not such a bad thing."
"Well, I didn't kill you," he says. "Think both of us are glad those particular plans didn't take."
"I didn't kill you, either," I point out. "And I had lots more chances than you did. So, really, I'm the one who was buggered."
Spike snorts. "Highly doubt that, luv, but if you're feeling naughty some night I'm sure it can be arranged," he waggles his eyebrows at me. I have no idea what I just said, or what he was implying, but I can tell it's probably dirty. And how weird is it that Spike being dirty doesn't really make me want to ewwww anymore? Instead it just makes me wet and squirmy. He sniffs, suddenly, and his eyes flash gold. "Think you like that idea, Slayer..."
"I don't even know what you're talking about! Stupid English words," I protest. He smirks, then bends his head to whisper in my ear at the same time as he rolls his hips suggestively.
Oh.
Oh, God.
"People only do that in pornos," I tell him, my voice a little choked. What he just suggested...
"People do it all the time," he says. "'Cause it feels bloody good, and it's about as intimate as you can get. When you love someone, really love them, there's no such thing as dirty. It's all about trust, pet. Know you're still feeling a bit wobbly in that area, but someday I'll prove it to you: you can trust me. Always. Never deliberately hurt you, Buffy. I swear it. Might fuck up sometimes, but I'll never deliberately hurt you. An' I'll prove it to you, every day, if it takes me until the soddin' sun dusts everything on this this planet."
I believe him. After everything we've been through, everything I've seen, I can't help but believe him.
"I don't think it'll take that long," I tell him, reaching up to stroke one of his phenomenal cheekbones. His eyes do that nearly black thing again.
"Good," he growls, through a grin. "'Cause, gotta tell you, Slayer, you've got one sweet little arse and the thought of..."
I clap my hand over his mouth again. "Uh... let's hold that thought until we're back home and--and, uh, the world isn't trying to end, okay?" I can feel him smirking under my palm, but instead of being a jerk he just presses his lips to the heel of my hand.
And, whoa, I had no idea that that was one of my erogenous zones.
Suddenly I feel like laughing. It's sort of... freeing, being with someone who not only loves me, but loves everything I am, too. Who I don't have to be afraid of physically hurting, who I can let loose with. Explore. Not that sex before was exactly lame or anything, but I always had to hold something back. The idea that with Spike I don't have to hold anything back, that I can try anything, do anything, and he'll be happy to go along for the ride... Hell, I'm pretty sure he'd jump at the chance to teach me everything he knows about sex and then help me research even more.
It makes me happy.
But Spike's face is serious as he stares down at me. "What?" I ask. He looks pained for a minute, then looks away, like he's afraid to say what he's going to say.
"You're going to think I'm a right ponce for saying this... but... jus' can't believe I've got you," he says, finally. "Seems like a dream. Gonna wake up and find it's not true. Or worse, we'll get back to Sunnyhell and you'll decide it was a mistake and tell me to sod off. Or stake me. Or... I'll just be your dirty little secret and you'll treat me the same as always, in front of your chums. An' I'll let you, 'cause now that I've had you I don't know that I can bear to let you go."
If I hadn't had the This is Your Life tour of Spike's past, I don't know if I would be hearing the pain and uncertainty lacing his voice right now. I know I wouldn't have believed it, even if I did. But having seen what he went through with Cecily, and Drusilla...
I reach for him, turning him more on his side so that we can face each other.
"It won't be like that," I promise him. He snorts slightly, but his eyes are searching my face.
"So, what? We pop back and you announce we're an item? Can't see your Slayerettes doin' a chorus of joy."
"They're not going to touch you," I promise him. "Besides, there's that whole prophecy thingie. You're mine, Spike. There's a whole book on the topic. If they've got any problems with that, they can take it up with the Powers That Be."
"Yours," he whispers, that weird look coming back into his eyes. The one that makes me feel like I'm glowing.
"I love you," I tell him, brushing a kiss across his lip, which is almost entirely healed now. He growls slightly, then meets my kiss with a hungry one of his own that quickly has me breathless and panting. I thought he'd worn me out, but the tingles making a quick run south seem to have a different idea.
"Love you, too, Buffy," he murmurs against my lips. "So bloody much." His mouth begins a steady descent down my throat, then over my breasts to my stomach. The cool air on my wet nipples makes me arch beneath him, but he splays one big hand across my lower belly, pinning my hips to the floor. Then his other hand slips between my thighs while his tongue plays with my bellybutton.
"Oh, god," I gasp. "What...?"
"Gonna do something else you probably think they reserve just for pornos," he says with a smirk, his head dipping. Then he pauses. "You watch pornos, Slayer?"
I feel myself blush from head to toe, which makes his eyes flash gold for a second. "Shut up, Spike," I mutter.
"Naughty girl," he murmurs.
And then he shows me exactly the best way to shut him up.
Orally fixated vampires really just need something to do with their mouths, I guess.
***
It's easy to lose track of time, when there's no night or day, and everything outside is howling and white. The storm seems like it'll never stop. When the wood starts to run low, Spike treks out into the blizzard to get more. He always comes back in looking like the abominable snow vamp, knocking clumps of snow from his boots. He sits by the fire until he's warm enough to crawl back into the sleeping bag with me, and then things usually start getting steamy pretty quick.
I love him, but there's no way I'm going to sleep beside a Spike-sicle.
When he comes back from his third trip for wood, however, I notice he's shivering.
"You're cold?" I ask, surprised. He's looking paler than usual, and his eyes are red rimmed.
He makes a face. "Hungry," he admits.
I know how he feels. I'm down to my last two power bars, and I've been eating them in little chunks, to make them last. Still, he went without blood for... well, I don't really like to think about how long he was here before I got here. Now that I'm looking I notice how hollow his cheeks look, how thin he's getting again. I guess that one little drink wasn't nearly enough to hold him over for long. Of course I figured we'd be out of here by now. I hadn't counted on Louhi throwing a blizzard at us.
Spike crouches next to me, his expression serious. "I'll be fine," he says. "Just a bit shaky. I've got a leash on it, Slayer. No need to fret."
"I'm not fretting," I tell him.
"Then why're you're trying to open a vein by rubbing a hole through your wrist?" he asks, cocking his head to one side. I glance down. Sure enough I've wrapped my right hand around my left wrist and I'm rubbing circles over the veins in it with my thumb.
"I wasn't fretting," I tell him again. "I was just... thinking. You went for a really long time without eating, didn't you?"
He gets a pained look on his face. "Longer than a few days," he says. "I'll make it until we're out of here, Slayer."
"Who knows how long that blizzard will last," I point out.
"It's just Louhi having a tantrum," he says. "It'll blow out when she realizes she's sapping her strength. Longer she keeps pelting us with snow, less worried I am about her popping out of the wardrobe right after us." He sits beside me and pokes at the fire with a stick.
"Can she?" I ask. "I mean, now that you're no longer being her Everlast Battery, can she still..."
"Yeah," he says. "Probably. Door is wedged open enough, and she's got most of her underlings runnin' about Sunnydale. She'll find a way. Thing is... with time moving slower here, she's got the time to prepare, yeah? We're gonna get back just in time for her to come roaring after us."
I hadn't thought of that.
"If that blizzard lasts much longer, neither of us is going to be in fighting shape when we get out of here," I say softly. Spike doesn't say anything, just jabs at the fire. I stare down at the blue veins under my skin and remember the last time I offered a vampire my blood. I had no clue what I was in for that time. Now I know and kind of wish I didn't. Still... "There's no reason why we should both be weak and hungry," I say, extending my wrist. "Just... don't take too much, okay?"
Spike takes my arm gently, his cool fingers stroking the skin, making me shiver. After a moment he bends his head and I brace myself for the pain of his fangs.
Which doesn't come.
Instead he just brushes a kiss across my wrist.
"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, luv," he says softly. "But right now any amount is too much. Too cold here for you to lose blood. Besides... won't feed off you, Buffy."
What?
"What?" I ask, surprised. Since when do starving vampires turn down freely offered blood?
A corner of his mouth twists up. "You're... I love you, and I'm not going to dirty that up by feeding off you. You're Buffy, not ... dinner. Though I've no objection to eating you in ways that include other bodily fluids." His eyes drift down my body and I realize that just his sitting beside me and kissing my wrist was enough to get me all wet and achy again.
"Ewww," I say.
"Weren't complaining a few hours ago," he points out.
"You're a pig, Spike," I say.
"Yeah, and you love it," he says, tonguing his teeth and grinning.
"I thought you said that if two people loved each other there was no such thing as dirty," I say. He freezes.
"Balls," he mutters. "Gotta learn to shut my gob."
"I get that it's too cold here," I say. "But... what if we're in a similar situation sometime in the future. You wouldn't drink from me then?"
"Since when did you get all hypothetical?" he asks.
"I'm warm enough, right now," I promise him, confused. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then shuts it, tilting his head to the side with a look of amusement on his face. Then he flexes his jaw a couple of times before speaking.
"What I meant was, first, with any luck we'll never find ourselves in this sort of fix ever again. An' if we do we can talk about it again then. At the mo', however, I'm not taking your blood," he says, seriously. "Aside from that dead bloke back there, I'm on a strict diet from here on out. Considering how hungry I am right now, and how delicious you smell, I think if I can turn down your blood when you're shoving it under my fangs, I'm pretty much past the point of random temptation. I won't give you any reason to have to stake me, ever."
He looks so serious, as he says it, and I feel tears well up and threaten to spill. Spike smiles softly, then brushes his thumb beneath my eye, catching the tear that started to fall. "I'll probably make mistakes, and I'm bound to run off at the mouth without thinking. And I can't promise that I'll always be able to stay on the straight and narrow when it comes to... not nicking things, or gambling. But I swear to you, Buffy, I won't ever deliberately hurt or kill any humans without your permission. An' I'll do my best to protect you and yours, til the end of the world."
"What if something were to happen to me?" I can't help but ask.
"Well, then," he says seriously. "All bets are off and Harris ought to start wearin' himself a full suit of armor covered in crosses."
"Spike," I say, rolling my eyes.
He grins. "First off," he says. "Nothing's gonna happen to you. I'm going to make sure you're the longest lived Slayer in history. Second, even if, god-forbid, something did happen... I'd keep my promise. I'd protect your chums 'til they're old and gray. And when the last of them is gone, I'll go find myself a sunrise and come to find you, sunshine. Figure by that point I'll be so soddin' good Hell won't want to touch me."
There's a teasing note in his voice, but I can tell he means it. Every single word.
I have to kiss him for it.
And of course, once I start kissing Spike it gets really hard to stop.
***
I wake up a day or two later, wigged out at the silence.
And it's only then that I realize that it hasn't BEEN silent since the storm started.
"Wake up," I say, nudging Spike. He's wrapped around me, his body deceptively warm from the heat of the fire in the cave and whatever he's leeched from being tucked into the sleeping bag with me. His face is getting bone-thin again, but he still looks bizarrely beautiful when he sleeps. The bruising is totally gone now and there's only a few thin scars along his bottom lip to show where the damage was. "Spike," I say, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."
He growls softly in his sleep, then cracks an eye open.
"Bloody 'ell, woman," he grumbles, his accent thick and sleepy. "'M all shagged out at the mo'. Think eight hours might be my limit, 'least on an empty tank."
"We did not...shag for eight hours," I tell him.
He thinks about it. "Well if you're counting the snogging, it was eight and three quarters. I'm exhausted," he complains, then his hand creeps up to cup my breast. "But if you insist, Slayer..."
"Spike, the storm stopped," I tell him, blushing and trying to get his brain back on track.
That gets his attention. He goes still, listening. "Sounds like. Let's have a look then," he says. He pulls himself out of the sleeping bag, pausing only long enough to kiss me breathless again, then tosses me my clothes where they've been staying warm near the fire. I pull them on while trying to stay in the sleeping bag, and it's only when I'm ready for my boots and coat that I climb out reluctantly.
I can't wait to get back to the land of heated bathrooms and hot showers.
Spike's swearing as he notches his belt tighter. We've both lost weight, but he's in worse shape than I am, since he never quite got back to full strength to begin with. Pooh has perked up, now that we're up and moving, and moves out of the way when I approach the gap between the caves. Spike assured me, after the first night, that listening to the two of us go at it probably wouldn't traumatize a polar bear, but I can't help but blush a little when Pooh swivels his huge head around to look at me.
Spike edges around me, putting my body between him and the bear. "I thought the two of you were friends, now," I say with a frown.
"Not when he's eyeballing us like we might be a meal, Slayer. He hasn't eaten since we escaped and I've no desire to be bear food," he says.
"He doesn't look hungry," I point out.
"Neither do fashion models," he grumps and steps out of the cave. "But I bet they'd gnaw your arm off if you poured some chocolate sauce on."
"You're so weird," I tell him and step out to stand beside him.
The snow has piled up deep around the base of the trees, covering a lot of the fallen ones. The clouds are gone, and through the few skeletal branches that remain I can see the strange half and half sky again, twinkling with stars. "Think it's safe to move on?" I ask.
Spike sniffs at the air.
"Yeah," he says. "Better now than wait for her to get a second wind."
"Seek," I say, touching the pendant around my throat. The light whizzes out of the necklace and through the trees, dodging around Spike who yelps and moves out of the way. "Looks like we can still get home from here," I say, feeling more cheerful than I have since I started this whole thing. We're nearly there, I've got Spike, he still loves me, I love him, and soon I'll be back in the land of Hot Water. "First thing I'm doing when I get home is taking a long hot shower," I say. "If Louhi wants a fight, she's just going to have to wait."
"Now there is a plan I can get behind, Slayer," Spike says, wrapping his arms around me. "Literally, in fact. Want help scrubbing your back, pet?"
"You want to scrub my back?" I ask, amused. He chuckles, then leans down to whisper in my ear.
"Yeah," he says, his voice husky and promising more sex. "With my tongue."
Chapter 66: Blood and Iron
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