Story: "Retrospect" - piece 6 - R
Title: Retrospect piece 6
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: R for sexual situations
Fandom: Ats/BtVS
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: I do not own
Summary: It's only fair to make the playing fields even.
Buffy started calling him Spike more often than ever when they started sleeping together.
It had been a growing thing to begin with, like a slip, and it wasn't just Buffy who kept slipping. Everyone kept saying the name, though it took him a long time to realize exactly how often they did it, and when. Sometimes Cordelia referred to him as Spike when he was loitering in the lobby and she wanted a hand with something.
Angel said it whenever they had one of the rarer arguments, but he never seemed to be aware of it. It sounded strange to Galen, like Angel was truly exasperated with him, but to him the arguments were just verbal spar. It's easier to fight with words than fists when you can't see your opponent, but he didn't actually want to fight Angel.
When they were alone, quietly, Buffy would call him Galen. But in other moments, when she was half asleep or if she was reprimanding him for being a prat, or wanted him to take his drink, she called him Spike.
Dawn called him Spike sometimes when they spoke quietly together. Her mind seemed to be far off on other things lately, things that she obviously couldn't really talk to him about, but she tried to tell him a bit about her mother once in a while. The small, fond memories she shared had sadness in them although even the not-so-good ones were lightheartedly recalled. He wasn't sure what to think about it, which was made worse by the fact that sometimes it was all he could think about. There was a familiarity there and some greater personal sadness that he couldn't place.
Only Giles seemed to be acutely aware of what name he used. It was that awareness, that self-regulation that really tipped Galen off. He began to doubt that it was just an oddity, or that he reminded them of someone. It was more than that. He was sure when Buffy stopped apologizing for it, even when it was clear that he had noticed the change. He stopped questioning it, learning that they wouldn't give him a straightforward answer, and that it made them more aware of him in a way he didn't like.
Getting dressed in itself was interesting. Other people had to be concerned about if they'd picked out strange colors or put their clothes on backwards. Galen had to worry about checking his clothing for blood or strange slimes. Not that he was involved in the demon hunting that much - well, at all - but sometimes the ugly creatures found their way inside. He could only guess that they were ugly. They had to be, because he doubted that pretty things could explode with fluids as slippery as what had coated the lobby after Angel killed them all. He'd fallen in it a couple times just trying to find a safer place to stand, but from the lack of disgust or mockery from the others, he could guess that he wasn't the only one who'd come in contact with the stuff. It was a good thing they all didn't have some strange phobia of slime, because that seemed to be a regular encounter.
"Interesting combination, black on black," Buffy commented, watching Galen run his hands over a shirt.
"You watch Angel get dressed, too?" Galen questioned.
"Angel doesn't leave his door open," Buffy teased, staring at Galen's naked back. She wished she'd gotten there a few minutes earlier, before Galen had found a suitable pair of boxers. If there was anything about the old Spike she wanted back at that particular moment, it was the lack of want for modesty.
"It's not fair, you know," Galen said, flicking the shirt onto his bed and turning around towards Buffy. "I don't get to see you in any form of undress."
Buffy squirmed a little as he approached, unnerved by how precisely Galen was able to act like he wasn't blind at all. He was getting much better at feeling his way around. "I think you've seen a lot of me," she replied.
Galen reached out and cupped his hand over her face, effectively blocking out most of her sight.
"What are you doing?" Buffy complained, pushing at him for a moment.
"Close your eyes," he urged. "New unwritten rule. You're not allowed to see what I can't see."
"Spoil sport," Buffy pouted, but faithfully kept her eyes closed when Galen finally took his hand away. It was strange to lose all sense of depth and surroundings. Even though she had better senses than a normal person, she realized that his had to be even better than the average vampire to manage as well as he did. The more intimidating part was that he didn't even realize how powerful he was.
"Gotcha," he whispered just before nipping at her ear, making Buffy startle.
"Spike," Buffy admonished in a whisper, "don't do that."
"Do what? This?" he teased, withdrawing for a second just to lick and nip at her earlobe again, then moved down to her neck.
"You're terrible," Buffy laughed, placing her hands on his chest.
"That's not what you said last night." He snickered and led her to the bed, sitting down on the edge and letting her climb up onto his lap. "Still got your eyes closed?"
"Of course," Buffy said. "I'm not a bad girl."
"Oh," he chuckled softly, sliding his hands under her shirt. "But I think you could be a very bad girl, if you wanted to."
Buffy grinned and then placed her hand on the mattress, concerned. "What if we fall off the bed?"
Galen merely laughed under his breath, more concerned with how quickly or slowly he was going to undress her. "That's never stopped us before."
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: R for sexual situations
Fandom: Ats/BtVS
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Disclaimer: I do not own
Summary: It's only fair to make the playing fields even.
Buffy started calling him Spike more often than ever when they started sleeping together.
It had been a growing thing to begin with, like a slip, and it wasn't just Buffy who kept slipping. Everyone kept saying the name, though it took him a long time to realize exactly how often they did it, and when. Sometimes Cordelia referred to him as Spike when he was loitering in the lobby and she wanted a hand with something.
Angel said it whenever they had one of the rarer arguments, but he never seemed to be aware of it. It sounded strange to Galen, like Angel was truly exasperated with him, but to him the arguments were just verbal spar. It's easier to fight with words than fists when you can't see your opponent, but he didn't actually want to fight Angel.
When they were alone, quietly, Buffy would call him Galen. But in other moments, when she was half asleep or if she was reprimanding him for being a prat, or wanted him to take his drink, she called him Spike.
Dawn called him Spike sometimes when they spoke quietly together. Her mind seemed to be far off on other things lately, things that she obviously couldn't really talk to him about, but she tried to tell him a bit about her mother once in a while. The small, fond memories she shared had sadness in them although even the not-so-good ones were lightheartedly recalled. He wasn't sure what to think about it, which was made worse by the fact that sometimes it was all he could think about. There was a familiarity there and some greater personal sadness that he couldn't place.
Only Giles seemed to be acutely aware of what name he used. It was that awareness, that self-regulation that really tipped Galen off. He began to doubt that it was just an oddity, or that he reminded them of someone. It was more than that. He was sure when Buffy stopped apologizing for it, even when it was clear that he had noticed the change. He stopped questioning it, learning that they wouldn't give him a straightforward answer, and that it made them more aware of him in a way he didn't like.
Getting dressed in itself was interesting. Other people had to be concerned about if they'd picked out strange colors or put their clothes on backwards. Galen had to worry about checking his clothing for blood or strange slimes. Not that he was involved in the demon hunting that much - well, at all - but sometimes the ugly creatures found their way inside. He could only guess that they were ugly. They had to be, because he doubted that pretty things could explode with fluids as slippery as what had coated the lobby after Angel killed them all. He'd fallen in it a couple times just trying to find a safer place to stand, but from the lack of disgust or mockery from the others, he could guess that he wasn't the only one who'd come in contact with the stuff. It was a good thing they all didn't have some strange phobia of slime, because that seemed to be a regular encounter.
"Interesting combination, black on black," Buffy commented, watching Galen run his hands over a shirt.
"You watch Angel get dressed, too?" Galen questioned.
"Angel doesn't leave his door open," Buffy teased, staring at Galen's naked back. She wished she'd gotten there a few minutes earlier, before Galen had found a suitable pair of boxers. If there was anything about the old Spike she wanted back at that particular moment, it was the lack of want for modesty.
"It's not fair, you know," Galen said, flicking the shirt onto his bed and turning around towards Buffy. "I don't get to see you in any form of undress."
Buffy squirmed a little as he approached, unnerved by how precisely Galen was able to act like he wasn't blind at all. He was getting much better at feeling his way around. "I think you've seen a lot of me," she replied.
Galen reached out and cupped his hand over her face, effectively blocking out most of her sight.
"What are you doing?" Buffy complained, pushing at him for a moment.
"Close your eyes," he urged. "New unwritten rule. You're not allowed to see what I can't see."
"Spoil sport," Buffy pouted, but faithfully kept her eyes closed when Galen finally took his hand away. It was strange to lose all sense of depth and surroundings. Even though she had better senses than a normal person, she realized that his had to be even better than the average vampire to manage as well as he did. The more intimidating part was that he didn't even realize how powerful he was.
"Gotcha," he whispered just before nipping at her ear, making Buffy startle.
"Spike," Buffy admonished in a whisper, "don't do that."
"Do what? This?" he teased, withdrawing for a second just to lick and nip at her earlobe again, then moved down to her neck.
"You're terrible," Buffy laughed, placing her hands on his chest.
"That's not what you said last night." He snickered and led her to the bed, sitting down on the edge and letting her climb up onto his lap. "Still got your eyes closed?"
"Of course," Buffy said. "I'm not a bad girl."
"Oh," he chuckled softly, sliding his hands under her shirt. "But I think you could be a very bad girl, if you wanted to."
Buffy grinned and then placed her hand on the mattress, concerned. "What if we fall off the bed?"
Galen merely laughed under his breath, more concerned with how quickly or slowly he was going to undress her. "That's never stopped us before."