Chapter Four
Spike stood rooted to the spot, his desire for the woman he’d been kissing warring with the soul’s unwillingness to hurt the woman who loved him.
(The OTHER woman who loves me) he realized with a start of surprise. While he was subconsciously amazed to find himself the object of the affections of two attractive women, without his memories the true irony of his situation was lost on him. There was no way for the Spike who took Anne’s gentle love for him for granted to understand how starved for that kind of acceptance his pre-amnesia self had been.
He started walking back toward the shelter, briefly contemplating trailing Buffy to be sure she got back all right, then laughing at himself for worrying when he remembered how she handled the vampire pack. He shook his head in silent admiration of her grace and skill.
(I’ve got no trouble seeing why I would have fallen in love with her. Never seen such a combination of strength and beauty wrapped up into one little package. One very passionate little package, apparently.)
Struggling to put thoughts of the slayer and her warm body out of his mind, Spike went back up the steps and used his key to open the apartment door. He was surprised to find Anne sitting up, still dressed and obviously waiting for him. She pushed the book she’d been reading down the side of the couch cushion and stood up.
“A little late, isn’t it, love?” he asked, shrugging out of his coat. “Don’t you have to open the kitchen tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” she answered without explanation. She walked toward the bedroom, asking over her shoulder, “Are you coming to bed now?”
“In a bit, pet,” he said casually as he opened the refrigerator and took out some blood. “I could use some food.”
“You could drink from me,” she offered quietly.
Spike carefully put his mug in the microwave and turned it on before turning to face her.
“You’re not food,” he said coldly.
“You took it before. When you were—“
“That was a one time thing. Told you that then. If I hadn’t needed it to heal so I could throw out those soddin’ gang bangers that were causing you so much trouble…”
She stared at him, silently for a minute and then asked calmly, “So, you don’t want to drink from me unless it’s an emergency.”
“Isn’t that what I just said? Bloody hell, woman, what’s wrong with you tonight?”
“Nothing,” she said finally. “I’m going to bed now.”
She went into the bedroom and he could hear the normal sounds of her bedtime routine. When the water ran longer than he would have expected, he listened a little harder and picked up the sound of soft sobbing. With a sigh, he put down his half-empty mug and walked to the bathroom door, opening it to find Anne sitting on the closed toilet crying softly into her hands.
Spike came and sat on the edge of the bathtub, pulling her into his lap and running a soothing hand over her back.
“What’s this all about, then?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer, but knowing he had to ask.
“Why were you gone so long?” She responded by seeming to change the subject, but they both knew she really hadn’t.
“Watched the slayer take out a gang of vamps and stayed to chat a little. Got caught up on a few things from the past six or seven years. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” he asked, tipping her head up to look at him.
“I want you to bite me,” she said, staring into his mystified eyes.
“I’m having a little trouble following these jumps in the conversation, pet. What has that ridiculous request got to do with how long I was gone or the waterworks in here?”
“Why don’t you want to bite me?” she persisted stubbornly.
“Told you, you’re not food,” he growled. He stood up and deposited her on the floor. “Now if you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong, I’m going back to my pig’s blood.”
He waited for a few seconds, but when she didn’t say anything else, he went back into the other room and finished the mug of blood. He stared into the empty container, idly watching the dregs begin to clot on the bottom and wondering what had gotten in to Anne. He wasn’t so oblivious as to not understand that she was worried about Buffy’s sudden arrival in his life. Especially now that he knew what they’d been to each other. Obviously Anne had picked up on something that he’d missed in Buffy’s behavior and was worried about losing him to the Slayer. Which didn’t explain her sudden interest in his biting her. Jealousy, he could understand. Wanting to donate blood all of a sudden he didn’t.
With a flash of insight, he remembered the book she’d been reading when he came in and he walked over to the couch. Pulling the book out from between the cushions, he glanced at the title and then threw it across the room with a guttural snarl. He stared at the open door leading to the darkened bedroom and ran his hand over his head in distraction.
“Bloody stupid bint,” he muttered, growling to himself. He walked to the wall and picked up the copy of “Mating Rituals of Vampires” that Anne had been reading when he came in. Suddenly her request that he drink from her made a frightening kind of sense. She’d read just enough to know about claiming, and not enough to understand it.
He sighed heavily and debated just staying in the living room until she was asleep, but knew that would just mean neither one of them would get any sleep that night. He put the mug in the sink, turned off the lights, and walked into the dark bedroom, shedding his clothes as he went.
Anne’s uneven breathing told him she was still awake and fighting more tears. (Bloody hell, I’ve seen more female tears today that I have in the past six months total). He sighed and reached an arm around her, pulling her close to his chest and letting the semi-hard-on he’d been sporting since Buffy’s kiss press into her back.
“I’m not going to bite you, and I’m not going to leave you,” he said quietly, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.
He felt her shudder, then she turned in his embrace and looked into his face, knowing he could see her much better than she could see him. She wrapped one of her long, slender legs over his hip and pulled herself closer while she murmured, “I’m sorry. I was just so scared when I figured out why she was here. And then you didn’t come back…”
“Told you I would,” he replied quietly. “I wouldn’t lie to you, pet.”
She sighed softly. “I know you wouldn’t. I just…she’s so beautiful, and so strong…and she loves you. I could see it. She really loves you and I—“ She hitched another half-sob, half breath and burrowed into his neck.
“She does,” he admitted. “But the man she loves – the man who loved her – He doesn’t live here anymore. I don’t know who he is.” He rubbed her back reassuringly, even as he decided to be completely honest with her. “I’m not saying I can’t see how I could have loved her. I suspect the old me would have found it very easy to do. And I’m not saying I’m not going to see her again.”
He felt her stiffen in his arms and kissed the top of her head and murmured soothingly until she relaxed again.
“She knows a lot about my past, Anne. Much more than just what we talked about tonight. She can tell me about when I was turned, maybe even something about me before I was a vampire. And she can tell me about Drusilla, and Angel or Angelus. If she can’t bring my memory back, she can at least help me fill in some holes. Give me back a bit of who I am.”
“And if she can give you your memory back?”
“Don’t do this to yourself, love,” he pleaded. “Getting my memory back wouldn’t mean I’d forget you and what we have now. And she’s not here to give me my memory back – even the Slayer can’t do that. Can we not worry about that unless it happens?”
“I’m sorry,” she sighed, raising her face to look at him again. “I know I’m behaving like a jealous girl friend, but—“
“You’re behaving like a woman who loves me. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me, pet. How that makes me feel.”
He rolled over and pressed her gently into the mattress, stopping any more questions with soft kisses that gradually deepened until she wrapped her long, slim arms and legs around him and pulled him in to her body. Neither one was willing to consider the implications of his not having told her he loved her, and Spike gave her no opportunity to point it out, beginning a gentle rhythm that had become very familiar to them both.
He made love to her with skill and affection, taking care, as he always did not to use his vampiric strength in a way that could hurt her. He was mildly curious as to why his demon remained so docile in what should have been a very tempting situation for it, but attributed it to the lack of passion generated by Anne’s sweet, gentle love making.
As he felt her body shudder around him with her orgasm and allowed himself to find a release in her depths, he tried to push thoughts of a smaller, warmer and stronger body out of his head. But no matter how hard he tried, memories of what Buffy had felt like in his arms earlier made his own orgasm more powerful than usual and he mentally groaned at his body’s betrayal of the woman moving under him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the squicky chapter for anyone with a low tolerance for Spike/other. If you want to skip it, you won't miss much and I'll add the important info to the summary for the next chapter. For anyone who thinks Spike is behaving OOC, please remember that this is souled Spike and that he remembers only what Anne has told him about his life for the past year. He is an honest, gentle man who would never hurt someone who cared about him. Which is going to cause him some problems very soon....