[Reviews - 83]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 7484 times

- Text Size +




Spike trudged through the underground tunnels that he'd come to almost regard as home over the past few months. At least he could relax there. A little.

In over a century of existence, he'd never seen anything like this. What was left of Los Angeles's human population had retreated underground, fighting alongside the all-too-battle-hardened girls that comprised the Slayer Army.

When he'd agreed to go along with Angel's latest stop the Apocalypse plan, he'd never fathomed it would be like this. He'd expected one last good battle before he was dust. Instead, he'd ended up helping to command an all-out offensive against evil.

He'd been close to the end that first night. Angel fought his dragon, but it had all just kept coming. More demons than Spike had ever seen in one place, Hellmouth included. Eventually, he'd grown exhausted and collapsed, almost welcoming the demon that had perched on his chest, ready to take off his head.

He'd closed his eyes, made his peace with the end. But then it hadn't had come. The demon had screamed, dissolving into nothing. And then Spike had opened his eyes to the face of his salvation.

Buffy… At first he'd thought he'd died and gone to Heaven. Then he remembered they'd never let him in. She reached down, offering him her hand.

"The cavalry's here," she said, gesturing to the mass of Slayers who had entered the fray. "And remind me later to kick your ass for not telling me you've been alive all this time."

Spike smirked. Same old Buffy. "Undead, actually."

Buffy gave him a quick smile. "Whatever." She tossed him a sword. "Get to work."

Spike felt his second wind as he gripped the sword tightly. These demons were in for it now…

That had been six months ago, and the battle had only grown worse. Spike lit a cigarette, cursing it all. Riley Finn and his Initiative buddies had shown up early on, informing them that LA had been declared "under terrorist control" and closed off by the government. He'd tried to take charge of the situation, but Buffy hadn't let him. She told him that no matter what his military training had taught him, she was the Slayer, and leading the forces of goodness against the Apocalypse was her job, dammit. She'd welcomed Riley's help, but hadn't let him or anyone else try to push her down.

Spike smiled around his cigarette as he thought about just how tough his Buffy had proven herself to be. She'd kept them on the plus side of the battle, never let victory seem too impossible. She'd even improved her speeches a little.

He entered the command center that they'd scraped together as best they could, Buffy's scent leading him right to her. She was training, kicking and punching a bag with all her might. She was always dirty now. They all were. Her hair was shorter and brown now. No time for highlights when every moment could be your last. Still, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

She stopped when she saw him and gave him a quick look. "Go away."

Spike saw the pain in her eyes. He could almost feel it radiating off of her. He dropped his cigarette to the floor, grinding it out beneath his feet. "What happened, luv?"

"Nothing. Go." She punched the bag again, so hard that Spike was surprised she didn't bust it.

Spike walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder to still her. "Slayer, it's something. I can tell."

Buffy suddenly turned on him, pummeling him with her small fists. Spike grabbed them, trying to stop her. She pushed at him, knocking him on the ground before renewing her attack, hitting his chest hard. Suddenly she stopped, collapsing on him in tears. Spike wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back and whispering soothing words against her hair.

"It's Xander," she said finally. "He's…he's dead."

Spike froze. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," Buffy said, trying to force herself to stop crying. "You always hated him."

"I am sorry, Buffy. We never got along, but… I'll miss him."

"You will?"

"Yeah, I will."

"So will I." Buffy looked up, meeting his eyes. She searched them for a moment before saying softly, "I need you."

"I'm right here, luv."

"No, I need you, Spike. Please, make the pain go away for a little while. The way you used to."

Spike sucked in an un-needed breath. "Pet…"

"Please."

Spike sighed. "Not here. Anyone could walk in…"

Buffy nodded, standing up. She reached her hand down to him, and Spike grasped it, letting her pull him to his feet. He walked with her back into her small make-shift bedroom, no more than a cot and a wash basin really. She lay back on the cot, holding her arms out to him. Spike wasted no time in moving into them. It had been so long, and he'd missed the feel of her holding in.

"Buffy…" he said softly, kissing her neck, "I love you."

"Shh…" Buffy said, reaching down to undo his belt. "Don't talk. Just touch me."

Spike nodded, running his hands under her shirt. Her skin felt so warm to his cool hands, and he shivered. Knowing her, she'd regret this as soon as it was over, but he wasn't going to stop. She needed comfort, and maybe for once he could give it to her.

Buffy sat up, straddling his hips. She smiled at him before pulling her shirt up, baring herself to Spike's heated gaze. He reached up, stroking her cheek. "So beautiful…"

Buffy moved his hand down, molding it over her breast. "Just touch."

Spike nodded, pulling her down to his mouth. Buffy threw her head back, moaning loudly, and Spike felt his entire world narrow to this girl, this moment. He bit his tongue to keep from telling her that he loved her again. That wasn't what she needed. She needed him to make her feel, and he could give her that.

He reached, taking hold of her zipper and sliding it down. Buffy gasped as he reached inside and found her, and Spike smiled. He still knew just how to touch her.

"No teasing, Spike…" Buffy panted. "Do it now."

Spike flipped her over, looking down to find her eyes full of desire. This was perfect. Even if it was just for a little while, it was all he wanted, needed.

Spike sat up with a start. For a split second his eyes darted in search of Buffy before he realized she'd never been there. It had been another dream, a memory of the times they'd comforted each other when the pressures and pains of battle became too much.

But it had been five years since he'd seen her. She had walked out of his life without so much as a good bye, and he'd given up on the hope of ever seeing her again, never mind actually getting to hold her in his arms.

He glanced over towards the window and noticed the only light seeping in around the curtains was of the street lamp variety. He checked the clock. After dark.

"Might as well find my way out of this town," Spike muttered. "Wherever the bloody hell it is."

He put his boots and duster back on, grabbed his bag and keys, and left the room.

Wouldn't be too long until he was back in a room just like it.

*** *** ***

Spike walked back to the office, stopping when he saw a woman leaning over the desk, talking to the same clerk that had been there the night before. "Clint, I told you I'd be working the night shift tonight."

"No, baby, you didn't."

"I did."

"You didn't."

"I so did."

Spike froze. That voice… It couldn't be, but it was one he'd know anywhere. He was sure that if his heart had been beating, it would've stopped right then.

"No, baby, you didn't. But no more arguin'. There's a guest here. Everything all right with your room, mister?"

Spike swallowed. The voice…the scene…his mind had to be playing tricks on him. The woman in front of him was going to turn around, and it was going to be a stranger. Not his…

She turned around and Spike froze. She gasped, and Spike wasn't quite sure how he kept from grabbing her and never letting her go. "Slayer…" he said after a moment.

"Spike?"

"You know this guy?" Clint said from behind the desk. "And why did he just call you Slayer?"

Buffy blinked, recovering quickly. "Uh, high school nickname. I, um, met Spike in high school."

"That she did," Spike said, still trying to recover from the shock of being in the same room as Buffy again. "And Slayer…well, she always had a way of 'slaying' all the boys."

Buffy felt herself grow crimson at Spike's tone. "That was a long time ago," Buffy said. "Um, Clint, this is Spike. Spike, this is my husband, Clint."

Husband? Spike didn't like the sound of that at all. "Nice to meet you, Clint," he said, not making the best attempt to hide the fact that he didn't mean it at all.

"You, too, Spike. And how exactly did you get that little name?"

"Well, you see, I used to torture people with railroad spikes."

Buffy blanched for a moment before she started laughing nervously. "He's kidding. You were always such a kidder, Spike." She turned back to Clint. "It's his hair. See—it's spikey."

Spike chuckled. "Yeah, it's the hair. I just like the look I get for the railroad spikes thing."

"See, what did I tell you—kidder." Buffy turned and gave Spike a look. He couldn't help but chuckle. It was the same look she'd always given him when she wanted him to shut up.

"Yeah, real funny guy," Clint said, eyeing Spike warily. "So did you need something?"

"Uh, yeah. See, I said last night that I was only going to be here for a day, but I've gone and changed my mind. I'd like to have the room for another night." He looked at Buffy.

Clint ground his teeth, not wanting the man that looked at his wife like that to stay any longer. "Fine. Give me your money then."

"What, no free lodgings for an old friend of the wife's?"

Buffy looked at Clint. "He has a point," she said.

Clint grumbled. "Fine. But I'm not reimbursing you for last night."

"Fair enough," Spike said, looking back at Buffy again. She made him ache. He was sure that sometime in the past five years, she'd gotten even more beautiful.

"Buffy, baby, didn't you have to get to work?"

Buffy blinked when Clint spoke, suddenly realizing that Spike had been staring at her—and she had been staring back. "Yeah, work. Um, nice to see you again, Spike."

"You, too, pet. Maybe we can catch up later?"

Buffy smiled. "You bet. Have a good night." She started towards the door, but then stopped. "You're not hungry, are you?"

Spike chuckled. "No. I'm fine."

"Good. I'll, um, talk to you later."

Buffy hurried out of the motel's small office. Seeing Spike again had thrown her off balance. One glance and she felt her world spinning. She'd tried so hard to rebuild her life, to try to forget about everything she'd gone through before she'd found her niche here. Tried to forget the year she'd spent in the hell that had once been L.A. But now, Spike was here, and everything rushed back to the surface. She took a deep, calming breath, then walked towards the truck stop where she worked.

After Buffy was gone, Spike looked over at Clint. "So you and Buffy…" Spike said.

"Yeah. Look, Mr…Spike. Despite what some people in these parts might say, I'm not a stupid man. I know somethin' happened between you and my Buffy." Clint watched as Spike's jaw clenched as he said "My Buffy," and knew his theory had been right. "But if you lay one hand on her, I'll make you sure as hell wish you hadn't. And the same goes if you ever call her 'pet' again. Got it?"

Spike narrowed his eyes, fighting the urge to let his demon face emerge and let Clint know exactly who the real big bad was. "Yeah, I got it. I'll be going back to my room now."

"Yeah, you do that."

Spike left the office and walked back towards his room. When he was sure Clint couldn't see him anymore, he doubled back, heading towards the truck stop he'd seen Buffy going to.

After five years without Buffy in his life, there was no way he was going to stay away from her now.

*** *** ***

"Damn. And it was just today that I was saying we never get any good lookin' men in this place. I stand corrected."

Buffy didn't look up from the coffee maker. "So go flirt or something, Cindy," she said to the other waitress. She hit the machine in front of her. "Damn piece of garbage. Never works."

"Turn around, Buffy. You have to see this guy. He's sin personified."

Buffy froze. Sin personified? If anyone fit that description… She groaned. He didn't… She turned around. He did. "Spike," she mumbled under her breath. "Didn't you ever learn stalking isn't attractive?"

He sat at one of the tables and waved at Buffy, his expression smug. Cindy frowned. "See this just ain't fair. You marry the only decent guy in town and you still get the hot travelers."

"It's not what you think," Buffy said. She looked at Spike, his sexy smirk making her body tingle in a way it hadn't in such a long time. "I know him."

Cindy raised an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

Buffy blushed. "Um, yeah. A long time ago. When I lived in California."

Cindy shook her head. "You lucky, lucky bitch."

"Not as lucky as you may think. I'm going to go over there and see what he wants."

Cindy snorted. "The way he's looking at you, I think I know what he wants."

"Well he's not getting that." Buffy wiggled her left ring finger. "Happily married woman." She walked over to Spike's table, her features set in grim determination. "And what do you want? We don't serve any of your usual meal of choice."

"Oh, I'm not hungry at all, pet. I just had a nice snack of a hotel clerk, and…"

Buffy paled. "You didn't. You wouldn't!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Please. My soul's not as removable as some. You should know that's just teasin'"

"Teasing about eating someone's husband like that is not very funny, Spike," Buffy snapped.

"Aw, lighten up, Slayer. It's been years, and you're acting like you're not happy to see me."

"I'm not."

Spike blinked, but quickly moved to cover up the hurt her words had caused. He was an old expert at that after all. "Afraid I'll put a nasty crimp in your happy little domestic life?" Spike asked.

"No. There's nothing you could do to mess up what I have with Clint. I love him, and he loves me."

"How bloody touching."

"Look, I have to work, and there's really no point in you being here. Just go back to the hotel. We can talk later."

"Sure there's a point to me being here. Maybe I'm hungry."

"We don't serve blood," Buffy said with a glare.

"Don't want any. Maybe I want some of that apple pie you Americans are so fond of."

"Spike…"

"You're a waitress, and I'm a customer. Now be a good girl and bring me some apple pie."

Buffy was fuming. Five years and he still knew exactly how to get under her skin. "I'll bring that right out," she said through gritted teeth.

Spike watched her as she walked away. The shock of seeing her again was starting to wear off and be replaced by anger. Five years ago she had run out on him, and now she was acting like this. Well, fine. If that was the way she wanted to play it, Spike would go right along. Apparently the years and the marriage hadn't matured her one bit.

Spike wasn't surprised when the other waitress brought him out the pie. She batted her eyelashes sweetly at him, but Spike didn't notice. His anger was rising more by the moment. Buffy wasn't even looking at him now. He stood up, putting enough money on the table to pay for the pie. "Suddenly, I'm not so hungry," he said, storming out the restaurant with his duster swirling behind him,

Buffy didn't have to look behind her to know Spike was gone. She slumped forward, wishing it could all just go away.

*** *** ***





You must login (register) to review.