Author's note: I write so much better at night. I should so be in bed right now. Oh well, hope you guys
like my midnight madness and leave a little note to say you dropped by. *huge Buffybot type grin*
Spike pulled himself up as the sky began to fade around the edges. He'd brooded enough. He wasn't
the broody sort but apparently a new soul made you pretty damn introspective. He wished he had
something to drink. That would be more appropriate. Get fully drunk.
He trudged back toward the hut and slipped inside. The woman, Kira, was asleep. He looked over to
the corner he'd stayed in the first two nights. Then he looked to the bed and the sleeping woman.
He moved slowly to the bed and laid down, his back to her. She made a soft satisfied nose and
cozied up to him, her bare breasts pushed against him through the fabric of his shirt.
"What did you do tonight, beast?" she mumbled in a sexy, sleepy voice, her voice caressing the
last word.
"I thought about the girl I love," he answered truthfully.
"You should na do that," she answered, seemingly unperturbed.
"Why not?" he asked carefully.
"She drove you away, did she not?" Kira asked in surprise.
"No," Spike said intensely. "She could never do that."
The woman sighed, made herself more comfortable against his back and let herself drift to sleep.
Spike did the same.
Buffy approached him as he sat on a gravestone in the cemetary. She was silent but she knew he'd
hear her anyway.
"It hurts, Buffy. It just bloody hurts," he said, his strong accent sharpening the words.
She didn't say anything. Just moved closer.
"You know I tried to be what you needed." He looked over at her a moment. "Before Glory..Before
you--Before you died. I tried to be a normal guy." He looked back down at the ground.
She answered, husky soft. "You could never be that, Spike." Her brows knit with confusion and
emotions bigger than she was ready to handle.
He continued as if she hadn't spoken into the still night. "I tried. Really, bloody did. Because
that was what you needed. Wanted. And then, after you were gone, I just didn't know how I could
bear it. Bear anything."
He was so earnest, so emotion-ragged. Her heart broke for him a little. She took a step closer.
"If I wasn't already dead, seeing you, cold and lifeless like that." He looked back up at her.
"It woulda killed me."
She took a step even closer. He pushed off the tombstone and paced away from her, his hand
rubbing his temple agitatedly. "I didn't think I could know pain worse than that. But I do
right now, Buffy. I ache for you." He was still turned away from her, his voice cracking
just a little.
Buffy didn't want to hear anymore. She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm.
She spun him to face her and caught her breath at the love in his eyes. What had ever told her
he couldn't love? She pulled his head down to her and kissed him fiercely. 'I ache, too,'
reverberated through her skull but she didn't want to speak. Just wanted to kiss him.
He reached around her and she felt the strong slide of his hands across her back. She'd never
meant to go down this road again. She'd just used him and it wasn't right. She was a white hat
and treading in the land of gray was too confusing. Even before she had used him. She'd always paired
herself with him in the fight against Glory. Cause he could fight. Yeah right. Cause he was
always there for her, to comfort her when she needed, fight her when she wanted. It hadn't
been right.
But it felt right. And right now, more so than ever. Like she fit. Like this was where
she needed to be. Right now.
She reached up under his shirt, vaguely noticing his coat was gone. She wanted to tell him she'd
kept it for him. It was in her closet all this time. But when she opened her mouth a breathless
sound came out. He gave a little satisfied growl at the sound sucked at her lower lip. She
coasted her hands across the hard muscles of his stomach. He didn't feel very cold at all tonight.
He kissed along her neck as his hand trailed lower, skimming across her bottom. She closed her
eyes and arched up into him, loving the feel of his lips on her neck and his arms around her.
She wanted to feel him against her, naked flesh to naked flesh. Her hands trailed down to his jeans
and she flicked open the top button. He groaned and brought a hand up to her breast, lightly
squeezing the rounded globe. Her nipple puckered and her mouth parted on a gasp.
God how she'd missed what his hands could do. She opened glazed eyes and was startled as she
looked over his shoulder. The deep green grass of the graveyard ended abruptly all around and
the golden sands of a desert spread off into the horizon. A few sparse trees dotted the vista
and she noticed movement by one. The figure of a woman moved in the shadows.
Spike dropped to his knees and her attention was pulled back to him. He pushed her shirt aside
and kissed her stomach as his hand traveled up under her skirt. It slid up her thigh until
he found the warm, wetness throbbing underneath her panties. He pushed them aside and stroked
the hardened bud there as his tongue dipped into the indent of her bellybutton. She groaned at the
pleasure and felt a deep shudder go through her. His thumb slid lower and then pushed inside her.
She awoke in her bed, covered in sweat, his name on her lips. She sat gasping in the darkness.
The light stripes of her wallpaper, the butterflies on her mirror, a picture of Xander and Willow
on her vanity. Her bedroom, same as always. But it felt as if she had woken from someone else's
dream, and finding herself right where she was supposed to be wasn't where she was supposed to
be at all. She flopped back down on her pillow and slid her hand between her thighs. A slayer
had to be in tune with her body.
Spike jerked up in the bed, his pants straining uncomfortably. He flung his legs off the bed and
slid to the edge. He gently lowered his zipper and took himself in hand. He'd wanted nothing
more than to sink into Buffy, and that dream had made it seem like it really was going to
happen. He jerked himself, his eyes closed and his mind on Buffy's golden hair and equally
vibrant skin. As he could almost feel her around him and his body tightened with the moment
before release, he felt warm hands graze down his back. He jerked and sputtered at the same time,
his climax shooting through him and his seed disappearing into the sandy floor.
"You do na have to do that," Kira said throatily. "I'm be more than happy-"
"I know," Spike said. Not harshly, not warmly.
Kira shrugged. "If you'll be changing you mind," she muttered, already back on the edge of sleep.
"There's something about you..." Spike said, his brow knotted as if he couldn't quite put his
finger on it.
Kira smiled. "I know." Then she was back to sleep.
Spike tucked himself away and laid back down on the bed. He gave a shaky sigh and lay awake, the
shady corner diffusing the light so he was comfortable. He lay looking up at the rough ceiling,
his mind thousands of miles away.