Guilty Soul Chapter 11 Update
Author: UncagedMuse aka raemcn
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC17 (later)
Summary: Set in season 5 of Angel. A personal journal written by Buffy Summers just before the destruction of Sunnydale is found in the excavation Angel is heading. What will it reveal to the two men who love her and how will each react?
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, the rest is mine.
Much love and thanks go to my beta, spikeslovebite. Any mistakes are my own, especially since I added to it after she finished editing.
Wishing all a late Happy Holidays
Chapter 11
To See You Again
Spike lay on a couch in an empty office, arm slung over his eyes. He was determined not to look at the phone that taunted him from the desk across the room. After trying to call Buffy several times without any luck, the lack of an answer was driving him around the bend. His mind whirled with horrifying visions of his slayer’s throat ripped open, bleeding to death in some cemetery, her cell phone just out of reach to call for help. Or chained and tortured by some crazed hell beast…maybe it was the worst-case scenario; slim neck snapped, chest still, eyes wide open and staring blindly at a killer that was no longer there.
His demon railed against them all, especially the last, screaming they would know if she were dead.
Unable to stand another second of immobility, he jumped up in a rush and bolted through the door, abruptly slamming into Lorne.
“Whoa there, my little bit of marshmallow fluff, what has you in such a tizzy?” the smiling green demon asked. He grabbed Spike by the shoulders to steady himself from the rough hit that nearly landed him on the floor.
Spike had a snarky comment at the ready to ensure a good bit of rough and tumble with whoever he barreled into, but briskly clamped his mouth shut and reigned in his temper when he realized who it was. Lorne was too friendly by half and not one for an altercation.
Why is it when I’m lookin’ for a fight I can never find one? Spike seethed.
“Sorry ‘bout that mate. Wasn’t watchin’ where I was going,” he apologized with a sardonic smirk.
The roiling emotions coming from Spike showed Lorne exactly what was bothering the blonde vampire. No need for this morsel of crumb cake to sing. Even a blind man could read him! the empathic demon thought.
“No apologies necessary, lemon drop,” Lorne smiled and squeezed Spike’s shoulder where one of his hands still rested. “You don’t have to go looking for a tussle though. Everything is going to turn out fine very soon. You’ll see.”
He winked as he stepped back and began walking away.
A dumbfounded Spike could only stare as Lorne started humming to himself.
@~@~@~
Buffy fidgeted in the front seat as Dawn aimed her excited chatter toward Wesley, who was efficiently navigating Los Angeles traffic even with a teenager squealing in his ear. They were getting closer to Wolfram and Hart with each passing second. Closer to Spike. She was so close to seeing him…Touching him.
What if he didn’t want to try a relationship with her again? What if he did, but she opened her big, stupid mouth and said the wrong thing? What if seeing her only brought up memories Spike would rather forget? What if…What if seemed to be spinning out of control for the poor Slayer.
“Buffy,” Wes tried to get her attention while dividing his between the blue sedan in front of him and the white knuckled Slayer about to rip the arm rest from the car door. When that didn’t work he called louder, twice in quick succession, but without the desired results.
Suddenly the grating screech of screws, bolts, and leather being torn from its metal frame grabbed even the attention of a hyperactive Dawn as it came off in Buffy’s hand.
“What the hell, Buffy?” The young woman’s eyes seeming glued to the small bit of destruction before laughter burst forth as she slapped her sister on the arm.
“Words, Dawn! Watch them,” Buffy shouted automatically and then realized part of the car was gripped tight in her hand but no longer attached. “Oops, gotta love that slayer strength, huh Wes,” she said sheepishly to the ex-watcher.
“It’s quite all right, Buffy,” Wesley assured her, smirking with mirth.
“But…but, your car,” she stuttered.
“Nothing to worry about, my dear. I took one from Angel’s fleet.”
@~@~@~
As Angel stared at the little book in his hands, absorbing what he’d read so far, a shard of doubt formed. Why did he think he needed to take care of Buffy as if she were a child? Wasn’t he about to do what she’d stated her friends had done to her in the past by forcing what he thought was right on her using the guise of love?
Love?
Although he would always love her, he hadn’t been in love with her for a while. Why was he so angry with Spike for loving her?
Just as his mind began to clear, the demon surged to the forefront, fury and burning hatred seared through his being, blocking out every thought but vengeance on the vampire who was trying to take what was his.
@~@~@~
Lorne’s cryptic words had done nothing but ratchet up Spike’s agitation. He stalked the halls of the large glass building, purposefully bumping into the biggest demon clients he could find. None of them seemed to take the bait, which in turn infuriated the stressed vampire more. When none of his attempts at picking a fight came to fruition, he finally wandered into Wesley’s office and began to sort through more of the Sunnydale items in the large plastic bins.
There were many things in the boxes before him that would never be identified and looking through it was more than a little overwhelming. This was what Sunnydale had been reduced to; tidy rows of plastic boxes containing bits of rubble that had once been pieces of their lives. Spike looked away for a moment, consumed with sadness at the sight of such melancholy disarray.
Reflections of Sunnydale came unbidden, bringing ghosts of the past. The kindness and sympathy Tara had for him in her eyes and voice, when she felt the others were treating him badly, would always remind Spike why he gave her the nickname Glenda. Anya had been the one he could relate to and reminisce about old times with as she tried to hide her fragile heart from the others, much as himself. Joyce’s smile over the rim of a cup of hot cocoa as they discussed the latest episode of Passions, her display of concern for his well being, and her loving heart had him choking back tears missing his friend.
Spike forced his thoughts away from sorrowful images before they could drag him down into despair and conjured up pictures of happier moments. Dawn squealing at ear splitting decibels whenever she was excited, always defending him, calling him her best friend…even the hugs he wouldn’t allow around others, brought a smile to his lips. Memories of watching his Niblet disgustedly spitting out the first bite of her experimental pickle, peanut butter, and mayonnaise sandwich as Buffy laughed took him in a new direction.
Buffy smiling and happy flitted through his fantasy. So many nights he witnessed her with her friends joking, playing, and dancing. He especially liked the dancing, her body moving to the music as he watched from a hidden dark corner of the Bronze. Spike remembered how the natural grace and sensuality of the Slayer combined with a beauty and passion that was all her own had snared him, dragging him ever closer to being her slave.
Buffy’s hips swaying sensually in time with the beat, eyes closed, head thrown back in mock ecstasy was one of his favorite memories, even with all the boys who had naturally flocked to such a gorgeous, untamed creature as she was when out on the dance floor.
The smile slipped from his face as one of the flock invaded his daydream and began dancing with Buffy, moving ever closer until he was grinding against her obscenely. His over active imagination immediately morphed it into his girl naked, panting, and sweaty under the hulking git.
The clatter of the box and its contents hitting the floor pulled him back to reality. His hands hadn’t been idle during his mildly pornographic musings. There would never be any identification of the objects in the box that lay decimated at his feet.
A frustrated Spike threw up his arms, on the verge of shouting down the Powers for each and every slight he felt they’d dished out. Instead, whirling around, he flipped a two-fingered salute at the ceiling and stormed out of the office.
@~@~@~
Buffy’s mind wandered again to thoughts of the vampire she loved. As doubts about Spike started to creep into her head once again, the young woman forced them back with memories. So many memories filled with his eyes that could never lie. No matter what the blonde menace was saying, planning, or doing, his blue eyes could never conceal his intent nor his emotions. It was his weakness, and one the Slayer was absolutely grateful for at this moment, because it kept her thoughts from going awry.
Just as she started to berate herself for being insecure and doubting his love, Wesley announced their arrival at Wolfram and Hart. As the car slowed to a stop in front of a huge sky scraper, Buffy suddenly became aware of the malevolence that emanated from the steel and glass structure seeping into her bones.
How the AI team could stand being in the belly of evil she couldn’t understand, but she knew she would endure it and much more for the one she loved.
Slowly exciting the vehicle, Buffy was pulled up short as Dawn grabbed her hand and whispered, “Are you sure we should go in, Buffy? I’m really not liking the feel of this place. Maybe we should just have Wes drag Spike out by his ear when the sun goes down.”
Seeing the strain on her sister’s face, Buffy realized the key Dawn still housed was sending out a warning. “Maybe you should stay here while I go in and drag him out by his ear. Sound good to you?”
“Nope,” Dawn replied. “I’m not letting you walk into the pit of hell alone. If you go in, then so do I.”
Standing straight and tall the young brunette reeled in the turmoil trying to consume her and marched toward the entrance, clutching her sister’s hand. Her best friend was in that building and no matter what evil might throw their way, Buffy would be going in to retrieve the man she loved. Everything coalesced for Dawn and she knew it was her duty to make sure he and her sister came out of it intact and alive-or sort of, in Spike’s case-so that they could go home as a family.
@~@~@~
A slight tremor began in the soles of his feet as Spike got closer to Harmony’s desk. He’d come to the rather skewed conclusion that the best way to let out his rage was to destroy his grandsire’s office. It might not make Buffy answer her blasted cell phone, but it would start one hell of a brawl with Angel, which in turn would help take his mind off things for a short period of time.
He shoved the doors to the office open and the tremor grew quickly, shooting through his spine and crawling up the back of his neck. It was like fingernails lightly scraping his flesh and Spike shivered with a small jolt of arousal. With it came warmth spearing his insides, making his dead heart flutter for the briefest of seconds. The realization of why it did so was like running full force into a brick wall and suddenly he knew she was there.
He needed to but turn around. Just turn his head and look behind him. It would be as simple as that for him to see her face, the flash of fire in her eyes, to be graced with her beauty and bask in the warmth of her presence.
So much like the sun was his slayer.
But fear had taken hold of him and spread through his limbs so fast he couldn’t move. Rooted to the floor, chin falling to rest on his chest, he trembled and silently begged the Powers that she wasn’t here to reunite with the Poof.
@~@~@~
Angel stormed through the halls, his mind centered on Spike and his mission. All things must come to an end he thought.
TBC
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC17 (later)
Summary: Set in season 5 of Angel. A personal journal written by Buffy Summers just before the destruction of Sunnydale is found in the excavation Angel is heading. What will it reveal to the two men who love her and how will each react?
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, the rest is mine.
Much love and thanks go to my beta, spikeslovebite. Any mistakes are my own, especially since I added to it after she finished editing.
Wishing all a late Happy Holidays
Chapter 11
To See You Again
Spike lay on a couch in an empty office, arm slung over his eyes. He was determined not to look at the phone that taunted him from the desk across the room. After trying to call Buffy several times without any luck, the lack of an answer was driving him around the bend. His mind whirled with horrifying visions of his slayer’s throat ripped open, bleeding to death in some cemetery, her cell phone just out of reach to call for help. Or chained and tortured by some crazed hell beast…maybe it was the worst-case scenario; slim neck snapped, chest still, eyes wide open and staring blindly at a killer that was no longer there.
His demon railed against them all, especially the last, screaming they would know if she were dead.
Unable to stand another second of immobility, he jumped up in a rush and bolted through the door, abruptly slamming into Lorne.
“Whoa there, my little bit of marshmallow fluff, what has you in such a tizzy?” the smiling green demon asked. He grabbed Spike by the shoulders to steady himself from the rough hit that nearly landed him on the floor.
Spike had a snarky comment at the ready to ensure a good bit of rough and tumble with whoever he barreled into, but briskly clamped his mouth shut and reigned in his temper when he realized who it was. Lorne was too friendly by half and not one for an altercation.
Why is it when I’m lookin’ for a fight I can never find one? Spike seethed.
“Sorry ‘bout that mate. Wasn’t watchin’ where I was going,” he apologized with a sardonic smirk.
The roiling emotions coming from Spike showed Lorne exactly what was bothering the blonde vampire. No need for this morsel of crumb cake to sing. Even a blind man could read him! the empathic demon thought.
“No apologies necessary, lemon drop,” Lorne smiled and squeezed Spike’s shoulder where one of his hands still rested. “You don’t have to go looking for a tussle though. Everything is going to turn out fine very soon. You’ll see.”
He winked as he stepped back and began walking away.
A dumbfounded Spike could only stare as Lorne started humming to himself.
@~@~@~
Buffy fidgeted in the front seat as Dawn aimed her excited chatter toward Wesley, who was efficiently navigating Los Angeles traffic even with a teenager squealing in his ear. They were getting closer to Wolfram and Hart with each passing second. Closer to Spike. She was so close to seeing him…Touching him.
What if he didn’t want to try a relationship with her again? What if he did, but she opened her big, stupid mouth and said the wrong thing? What if seeing her only brought up memories Spike would rather forget? What if…What if seemed to be spinning out of control for the poor Slayer.
“Buffy,” Wes tried to get her attention while dividing his between the blue sedan in front of him and the white knuckled Slayer about to rip the arm rest from the car door. When that didn’t work he called louder, twice in quick succession, but without the desired results.
Suddenly the grating screech of screws, bolts, and leather being torn from its metal frame grabbed even the attention of a hyperactive Dawn as it came off in Buffy’s hand.
“What the hell, Buffy?” The young woman’s eyes seeming glued to the small bit of destruction before laughter burst forth as she slapped her sister on the arm.
“Words, Dawn! Watch them,” Buffy shouted automatically and then realized part of the car was gripped tight in her hand but no longer attached. “Oops, gotta love that slayer strength, huh Wes,” she said sheepishly to the ex-watcher.
“It’s quite all right, Buffy,” Wesley assured her, smirking with mirth.
“But…but, your car,” she stuttered.
“Nothing to worry about, my dear. I took one from Angel’s fleet.”
@~@~@~
As Angel stared at the little book in his hands, absorbing what he’d read so far, a shard of doubt formed. Why did he think he needed to take care of Buffy as if she were a child? Wasn’t he about to do what she’d stated her friends had done to her in the past by forcing what he thought was right on her using the guise of love?
Love?
Although he would always love her, he hadn’t been in love with her for a while. Why was he so angry with Spike for loving her?
Just as his mind began to clear, the demon surged to the forefront, fury and burning hatred seared through his being, blocking out every thought but vengeance on the vampire who was trying to take what was his.
@~@~@~
Lorne’s cryptic words had done nothing but ratchet up Spike’s agitation. He stalked the halls of the large glass building, purposefully bumping into the biggest demon clients he could find. None of them seemed to take the bait, which in turn infuriated the stressed vampire more. When none of his attempts at picking a fight came to fruition, he finally wandered into Wesley’s office and began to sort through more of the Sunnydale items in the large plastic bins.
There were many things in the boxes before him that would never be identified and looking through it was more than a little overwhelming. This was what Sunnydale had been reduced to; tidy rows of plastic boxes containing bits of rubble that had once been pieces of their lives. Spike looked away for a moment, consumed with sadness at the sight of such melancholy disarray.
Reflections of Sunnydale came unbidden, bringing ghosts of the past. The kindness and sympathy Tara had for him in her eyes and voice, when she felt the others were treating him badly, would always remind Spike why he gave her the nickname Glenda. Anya had been the one he could relate to and reminisce about old times with as she tried to hide her fragile heart from the others, much as himself. Joyce’s smile over the rim of a cup of hot cocoa as they discussed the latest episode of Passions, her display of concern for his well being, and her loving heart had him choking back tears missing his friend.
Spike forced his thoughts away from sorrowful images before they could drag him down into despair and conjured up pictures of happier moments. Dawn squealing at ear splitting decibels whenever she was excited, always defending him, calling him her best friend…even the hugs he wouldn’t allow around others, brought a smile to his lips. Memories of watching his Niblet disgustedly spitting out the first bite of her experimental pickle, peanut butter, and mayonnaise sandwich as Buffy laughed took him in a new direction.
Buffy smiling and happy flitted through his fantasy. So many nights he witnessed her with her friends joking, playing, and dancing. He especially liked the dancing, her body moving to the music as he watched from a hidden dark corner of the Bronze. Spike remembered how the natural grace and sensuality of the Slayer combined with a beauty and passion that was all her own had snared him, dragging him ever closer to being her slave.
Buffy’s hips swaying sensually in time with the beat, eyes closed, head thrown back in mock ecstasy was one of his favorite memories, even with all the boys who had naturally flocked to such a gorgeous, untamed creature as she was when out on the dance floor.
The smile slipped from his face as one of the flock invaded his daydream and began dancing with Buffy, moving ever closer until he was grinding against her obscenely. His over active imagination immediately morphed it into his girl naked, panting, and sweaty under the hulking git.
The clatter of the box and its contents hitting the floor pulled him back to reality. His hands hadn’t been idle during his mildly pornographic musings. There would never be any identification of the objects in the box that lay decimated at his feet.
A frustrated Spike threw up his arms, on the verge of shouting down the Powers for each and every slight he felt they’d dished out. Instead, whirling around, he flipped a two-fingered salute at the ceiling and stormed out of the office.
@~@~@~
Buffy’s mind wandered again to thoughts of the vampire she loved. As doubts about Spike started to creep into her head once again, the young woman forced them back with memories. So many memories filled with his eyes that could never lie. No matter what the blonde menace was saying, planning, or doing, his blue eyes could never conceal his intent nor his emotions. It was his weakness, and one the Slayer was absolutely grateful for at this moment, because it kept her thoughts from going awry.
Just as she started to berate herself for being insecure and doubting his love, Wesley announced their arrival at Wolfram and Hart. As the car slowed to a stop in front of a huge sky scraper, Buffy suddenly became aware of the malevolence that emanated from the steel and glass structure seeping into her bones.
How the AI team could stand being in the belly of evil she couldn’t understand, but she knew she would endure it and much more for the one she loved.
Slowly exciting the vehicle, Buffy was pulled up short as Dawn grabbed her hand and whispered, “Are you sure we should go in, Buffy? I’m really not liking the feel of this place. Maybe we should just have Wes drag Spike out by his ear when the sun goes down.”
Seeing the strain on her sister’s face, Buffy realized the key Dawn still housed was sending out a warning. “Maybe you should stay here while I go in and drag him out by his ear. Sound good to you?”
“Nope,” Dawn replied. “I’m not letting you walk into the pit of hell alone. If you go in, then so do I.”
Standing straight and tall the young brunette reeled in the turmoil trying to consume her and marched toward the entrance, clutching her sister’s hand. Her best friend was in that building and no matter what evil might throw their way, Buffy would be going in to retrieve the man she loved. Everything coalesced for Dawn and she knew it was her duty to make sure he and her sister came out of it intact and alive-or sort of, in Spike’s case-so that they could go home as a family.
@~@~@~
A slight tremor began in the soles of his feet as Spike got closer to Harmony’s desk. He’d come to the rather skewed conclusion that the best way to let out his rage was to destroy his grandsire’s office. It might not make Buffy answer her blasted cell phone, but it would start one hell of a brawl with Angel, which in turn would help take his mind off things for a short period of time.
He shoved the doors to the office open and the tremor grew quickly, shooting through his spine and crawling up the back of his neck. It was like fingernails lightly scraping his flesh and Spike shivered with a small jolt of arousal. With it came warmth spearing his insides, making his dead heart flutter for the briefest of seconds. The realization of why it did so was like running full force into a brick wall and suddenly he knew she was there.
He needed to but turn around. Just turn his head and look behind him. It would be as simple as that for him to see her face, the flash of fire in her eyes, to be graced with her beauty and bask in the warmth of her presence.
So much like the sun was his slayer.
But fear had taken hold of him and spread through his limbs so fast he couldn’t move. Rooted to the floor, chin falling to rest on his chest, he trembled and silently begged the Powers that she wasn’t here to reunite with the Poof.
@~@~@~
Angel stormed through the halls, his mind centered on Spike and his mission. All things must come to an end he thought.
TBC