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"It's an impending disaster," Buffy moaned, and the room at large nodded in agreement."It's certainly a conundrum," said Willow, biting her nails down to the quick in second-hand nervousness."People could get hurt," said Giles sternly, removing his entirely dust-free glasses to polish them."Riley definitely will," added Anya, bluntly. "Broken bones. Blood everywhere. It has the makings of a full-blown catastrophe.""I know," Buffy whimpered, eyes raised to the ceiling in exasperation."What did you tell him?" Xander asked, naively hopeful that the situation might resolve itself. "I've heard honesty is the best policy. Maybe you could try that?""I told him I could. I said 'no problem. Easy. Totally my wheelhouse'," Buffy replied, sighing extravagantly.
This is so not my wheelhouse. This is a house with no wheels. It's a house-house.
"Oh yeah, you probably shouldn't have done that," said Willow, half wincing"I'm doomed." Buffy slumped down onto the coffee table, burying her head in her hands. "Doomed, guys. I mean seriously, a Pride and Prejudice themed wedding?! The dancing will go on for hours! It's the main event! Riley won't have any feet left!""Did you read the book?" Willow inquired, and Buffy's head rose in horror."I have to do homework for it?!""Can't you just tell him you can't dance?" Xander asked after Buffy's whine of misery had died back enough for conversation to flow again."You could ask him for lessons!" added Anya, nodding enthusiastically. "Which can be both fun and sexy. Last Valentine's Day, Xander and I learned to dance together, and anytime one of us stood on the other's foot they had to lose—""He's out of town until next week," Buffy grouched, cutting off what promised to be a mortifying end to Anya's anecdote, much to the relief of the rest of the room. "Flying back in for one day only."A brief silence stretched as Buffy let go another drawn-out groan."And you really can't dance at all?" Willow probed, leaning forward on her knees. "I mean like outside of Bronze jiggy-grindy-ness?""Nuh-uh," Buffy grunted from behind her fingers."Didn't you dance with Angel?" Anya asked, causing a minute cringe in the congregation."Yeah, but that was just swaying side to side.""How close is he with his cousin?" Xander pressed. "Will they definitely notice Riley's absence on the dance floor or…?""He's the best man," Buffy huffed."Well, you have three days," Giles reminded her, taking a sip of his freshly brewed tea, his newly sparkling glasses resituated on his nose. "It's do-able. All you need is a tutor."Heads turned towards him."To make it clear, I am not volunteering," he stated with inarguable finality.Buffy pouted. And then very cautiously swung her eyes up towards Xander."Keep moving, eyeballs," warned Anya, and Buffy slumped back into a sulk over her knees."Hey!" Willow exclaimed, too jovial for the grimness of the moment in Buffy's opinion. "You know who's from the era of slow waltzy dances and has been super loud about wanting to be let out of his chains lately?"All eyes in the room stared at her in a spectrum of shock or horror. Before slowly turning towards the alcove leading to Giles' bathroom."Yeah, this I'll want to see," said Xander, pulling a bowl of popcorn off the coffee table into his lap, and settling in.xXx"Oh, Antonio!" Camilla's wavy locks tumbled over her shoulders as Antonio drew her close. His arm cinched tight around her waist as he dipped her low, brushed his lips across hers, eyes turning heavy lidded as violins surged."Mi amor—" The picture snapped to black as Buffy flicked the switch on the TV roped to Giles' bathroom cabinet."Hey!" Spike snarled, blinking back into reality and stubbing out his cigarette against the bathtub's porcelain."I've got a job for you," she stated, hands on her hips, a vision of despotic aggravation.Spike huffed, rolling his eyes as though he couldn't believe her audacity as he slumped further down into the tub. "Do you now? This the part where I say 'how high?' Because I'm rather hindered, currently." He rattled his chains to make a point.Buffy's lips tightened."Can you dance?""I… yeah?" he answered, cursing his tongue almost immediately that his initial response had been so bleeding honest, and had likely dumped him right in it."Like… round and round in a ballroom type dance?" she persisted, the hands on her hips twitching in nervous agitation."...Yeah," he confirmed with caution, eyes narrowing. Despite the abhorrence that the Slayer should know even a single solitary fact about the human he once was, this interaction was unwinding itself into 'intriguing'.
What the bloody hell is she plotting?
She bit her lip, nostrils flaring in that typical way he'd come to read as the Slayer Almighty having her back up against a wall, ready to fight but not knowing in what direction.Her jaw hardened as she swallowed."Can you teach me?" she mumbled.A snort of derision broke loose from him, sharp and unrestrained. "Bugger off.""Spike—""Not a chance, luv.""I just need to learn how to waltz without inflicting injury," she persisted."Oh, is that all? Get some other schmuck to My Fair Lady you, because I'm not playing."Her brow furrowed momentarily—obviously not understanding the reference—but she scowled nonetheless, assuming it was insulting from context."That is so not what this is about," she hedged. "There's this… stupid wedding and—""Christ. My most heartfelt sympathies to the groom. Go away.""It's not my wedding! Look, all I'm asking for is—""I'm not your puppet, Slayer," he interrupted. "I might be shackled to a bleeding bathtub but I still have some dignity. Now turn the telly back on, the Count was just about to get his rocks off."A withering pause stretched between them and he settled in, crossing his legs as she crossed her arms, each intending to wait out the other.She glared.He glared back, gritting his jaw hard, feeling his patience wearing all the more thin. The bloody nerve of the chit, storming in here like she owned the place, trying to talk him into further humiliation as if being trussed up beneath a leaky showerhead wasn't bad enough.
First chance I get I'm gonna rip the sodding plumbing right out of the Watcher's walls…
Spike raised an eyebrow when she still didn't budge. "Well? Push off then."Buffy leveled one last glower at him before smiling wide."Okay," she said brightly—suddenly and suspiciously full of bounce—and turned to the TV.But rather than turn it back on she unplugged it from the extension cord running to the socket in the hallway."Oi, what're you—?""No dance lessons, no TV.""Slayer!" She already had the ropes off."You can't leave me in here with sod all to watch, I'll go mad!""Boo-hoo," she said, supporting the weight of the set with one hand, about to roll it onto her shoulder to take it down."FINE!" he yelled. "Bloody fine."She smiled, and the sight made him sick. He scowled as she smugly set the TV back in place, one-handed and reckless."But I want paying," he snarled in a warning tone laced with the bite he could no longer deliver. "Plus the old boy's Jim Beam, a four-pack of blood, another carton of smokes—""Absolutely not!" Giles bellowed from the living room."You'll do it for an hour out of your shackles and continued TV privileges, and like it," Buffy retorted."Oh, a whole hour in the yard, warden? Mighty benevolent of you."She turned towards the TV again, hands raised."Alright!" he shouted. "God's sake.""Do we have a deal?" she asked sweetly as though he wasn't chained to her Watcher's bathtub with nowhere better to go.
Vindictive little bitch.
"Deal. Though I don't know what you think you'll get out of an hour.""I'm sure an hour will be plenty," she said.He rolled his eyes, and hoisted himself up into a sitting position. "Get me out of these things, then, I'm starting to chafe."With a last glare, Buffy disappeared briefly to grab the key to the shackles, unlocking his feet before his hands, and he rubbed the skin around his wrists in relief."Don't pout," she said, smirking, and he grit his teeth before leveling himself out of the bath and stalking after her."Oh bloody hell," he groaned on the threshold of the living room, meeting her entire troop's barely contained smiles of smug anticipation, the lot of them waiting for the show to start. Red's face was a picture of glee, mirrored by Anya's look of unbridled curiosity as she snuggled deeper into Xander's side, getting comfortable. The whelp was honest-to-God chewing on a bowl of popcorn.Choke on it, he thought loudly."Okay." Buffy bent and pushed the coffee table all the way to the wall, then turned and pushed the sofa with all three of its occupants still seated on it, until it bumped against Giles' desk. "Right. Let's go," she demanded, as though gearing up for a boxing match.He scoffed. "Think you're forgetting something, pet," he said as he joined her on the living room rug that comprised her new dance floor. She raised an eyebrow. "Music?" he prompted."Oh. Uh… Giles?"Giles took a deliberately slow sip of tea before getting out of his armchair. "Though my collection is eclectic, Buffy, I might be hard pressed to find you something to waltz to.""Well, just not anything too prog-rocky droneyness?" she requested, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. "No offense.""Some taken," he muttered from the floor by his music collection."And something slow?" she added. "Kinda get the feeling this isn't gonna be a whirlwind tango event." Her eyes snapped to Willow's, suddenly full of apprehension. "Right?"The witch shook her head soothingly as Giles sifted through his albums, mumbling suggestions."Rush—""No," dismissed Buffy."Jethro Tull—""No," Spike chimed in."Cream—""Nuh-uh," muttered Buffy."I'm going to assume Yes isn't going to cut it.""What about Bette Midler?" suggested Willow, holding in a chuckle."No!" Spike growled in unintentional unison with Buffy, causing a surge of irritation to cinch his gut that she should be as touchy about Willow's jibe as he was.It wasn't her that was down on one sodding knee!They reached the end of the records, forcing Giles into his CD collection. After what felt like an age of suggestions and refusals, they finally hit the last album in the stack."Unfortunately, that leaves you with my 'Love in the Sixties' compilation," said Giles, rising off his knees with a two disc album in his hand.Spike groaned. "Kill me.""Is that a sincere request?" Buffy sneered, before turning to Giles. "Just put it on.""How about Unchained Melody to begin with?" quipped Giles, holding down a smirk with nothing but the lightest touch as Spike grit his jaw."My sides ache."Spike straightened his back—getting a crick out of his spine after being hunched in a tub for the better part of a week—while Giles walked the album to the CD player."Woah, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch—!" The Righteous Brothers warbled out of the speakers."Right," Spike said, snapping his fingers. "Hand."Buffy pursed her lips with pure, unfiltered disdain, before slapping her palm against his."Real ladylike," he muttered under his breath, and unceremoniously yanked her close, smirking at the stumble it caused her.She tensed as he flattened his hand over the curve of her back, obviously not having thought this heroically stupid idea through as she glared a warning for him not to even think about moving lower.Like I'd bloody want to, he scowled in silent response.Her nose wrinkled in revulsion as he pulled her into position with his hand at her hip."You smell like an ashtray," she griped.Spike smirked.And leaned in close.Closer.Buffy stiffened in his arms as he leaned in closer still.And breathed in her face."Ew!" she screeched, shoving him back as he chortled. "Gross!""Good start," Xander commented around a mouthful of popcorn, and Spike smirked in triumph at having worsened the situation, before offering his hand a second time.Buffy sighed heavily and forced herself to take position again."So," he instructed, his hand curling around hers, but his clipped tone very much not meshing with the song's bleeding heart overture at all. "Step one, move your foot back."She looked down, and he sharply tilted his head to avoid being clocked on the chin."Which one?" she asked, oblivious to her cronies' smirks from the sofa."Right one," he said and moved to walk his foot forward. "Your right," he growled when their shins collided. Bloody hell... "Left foot joins it. Two, sweep your foot out. Left foot!" He winced as he trod on her still stationary toes, a dose of electricity sparking his frontal lobe as she yelped."Ow!" she snapped."Yeah, I damn well concur!" He tightened his fist around her hand, pushing away the pain."Woah, my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch—!" mocked the second verse of Unchained Melody, and Spike seriously considered putting his fist through the speakers."Right foot joins your left," he instructed as the lead singer's voice soprano'd higher. "Step forward—Watch it!""You're going too fast!"Spike cursed as they collided again, taking a pained breath in to steady himself. Counting to ten as slowly as he could. "Okay. Sweep your right foot…right! And agai—what are you doing?""You're dragging me around," she accused, struggling out of his grip."Leading," he corrected."Drag-ging," she repeated, enunciating louder, crossing her arms defensively. "Giles, he's doing it wrong on purpose!""I'm not getting involved," Giles responded, comfortably re-seated in his armchair with a book on his lap, his mug of tea clasped lightly in his fingers. "Though I feel compelled to inform you, Buffy, that traditionally it's the man who leads on the dance floor," he added, traitorously."Well, I don't think Spike counts as one," Buffy grouched."That right?" A goading smirk stretched across Spike's face as he hooked a thumb into the waistband of his jeans in a way that could've read as innocent until his fingers splayed across his crotch. "Need visual confirmation, pet?"Her cheeks burned a furious shade of cherry-red. "Hardest of passes."Spike grinned. "You're blushing.""You're disgusting," she bit back. "And you are so not getting out of this by being a pervert. Put your arms back up.""Fine," he sneered, his hand wrapping around her waist and settling obnoxiously low on her back. "Keep your feet out from under my boots this time, then. Being around you is enough of a headache without the Christmas lights bursting in my brain."He pulled his foot back sharply as she attempted to stomp on it."Aw, you guys make such a cute couple," Willow chuckled ironically from her seat on the sofa and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl."Will!" Buffy shouted in outrage."There's certainly a lot of unresolved sexual tension," remarked Anya, nodding sagely as Xander choked on a popcorn kernel."Between who? The Watcher and his cup of tea?!" Spike bit out with fury. "For the love of Christ, Slayer, just call it hopeless and chain me back in the tub.""NO!" Buffy snapped as the song's violin section gently swelled. "Look, just… start again.""Maybe you need a new song choice," Willow suggested, and stretched to reach the CD case, inspecting the track list. "Ooh, what about Silence Is Golden?" "Couldn't agree more," Spike growled under his breath as Willow leaned across to change the track.With a sour glare, Buffy joined her hand with his—less gently than the first time, if that was even possible—and let his arm re-circle her waist.He pulled her in tight, and felt microscopically better as her cheeks threatened to blush again. She looked about to object, pursing her lips tight as he smirked."Don't pout, luv," he mocked, low enough that only she heard it over the lilting guitar intro. "Right foot back—"This time she managed to move seamlessly as he walked forwards, only just anticipating the step of his boot."Left joins it," he said, refusing to pay her even half a compliment as she managed a wobbly step to the side. She attempted the third step forward without prompting and he chuckled as she collided with his hip. "Oh, Bambi's pulling out the moves, huh?" he goaded, sarcasm dripping."You know, you're very mouthy considering I could break all your fingers just so easily right now," she huffed, but was concentrating too hard on her movements to put the usual dose of venom into her threat."Yeah, they're a match made in heaven," croaked Xander."If they were playing our Valentine's Day game they'd be naked by now," Anya commented as she extracted a handful of popcorn from the bowl.Buffy shot her a warning look, losing track of Spike's foot and accidentally stepping on it."Slayer," he growled. "Would you stop looking at your feet and your mates, I'm bloody bruised enough.""How am I supposed to stop you from stepping on my feet if I can't see yours?!" she argued back."This isn't a fight! I'm not on the sodding attack, you don't need to block!"She snorted out a pfft of disbelief, but her hand eased microscopically in his."Straighten your back," he instructed, and after a last rebellious look to his boots to make sure they weren't on the offense, she brought her shoulders up.They managed a full circuit of the album from the first track to the last with fewer bruises and only medium-excessive swearing. Each song brought with it fresh aggravation. By the time Unchained Melody came around a second time both sets of shins and ankles were black and blue."Woah, my love, my darling, I've—""Keep your head up!" Spike commanded as she almost lost her footing."Enough with the pulling!" Buffy growled."This endless sniping is immeasurably tiring," Giles said, pinching the bridge of his nose and moving up to rub his eyes."At least you don't have a clod-footed Slayer attacking your toes," muttered Spike."It is getting late," Willow interjected, casting a glance at Xander and Anya, asleep and slumped against each other."Oh," Buffy acquiesced, catching sight of the clock in the kitchen. "Yeah, it is." She dropped Spike's hand and stretched her shoulders out with a relieved sigh. "We'll… we'll try again tomorrow."Spike's eyebrows furrowed. "We'll what now?""This," she said, gesturing at the rug where they'd been stepping on each other's feet for the last hour and a half. "Again tomorrow.""No-no-no, here endeth the lesson. All lessons. No more 'this'!" he snapped back. "I didn't volunteer for recurring torture.""Who would volunteer for that?" Willow mumbled in the background, shaking Xander and Anya awake.Spike ignored her, not taking his eyes off Buffy. "You're off your rocker if you think I'm subjecting myself to this torment a second time.""You want your soap operas and your bags of blood, they come at a price," she countered, unconcerned."And we agreed an hour! I've more than paid!""Well then it sucks to be you, because the price just went up," she replied flippantly. "Come on. If you don't struggle you might catch a rerun of Melrose Place." She started walking off towards the bathroom without waiting to see if he would follow.Spike snarled at her retreating back, raised hands clawed as though he could rip her head off through telekinesis, curling into useless fists as he struggled to swallow down a surge of violent intentions.Instead of the desired decapitation, he leveled a kick at the bookcase the CD player stood on, causing the track to skip."Hu-uh-uh-ungered for your touch—!""Hungered for your bloody neck," he muttered under his breath.Willow smirked at Spike's retreating figure as she settled the strap of her bag over her shoulders. "Is it weird that I feel kind of sorry for him?"Giles snorted. "It's certainly a triumph of sympathy," he muttered, closing his book with an exhausted sigh."There's no way they're gonna manage three days," said Xander, tugging on his coat."I agree," agreed Anya. "They'll be having orgasms by day tw—""Anya!" shouted the room in unison.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Woooah… my love… my daaaarling…hmm hm hm hmmm hmmmm hm.
Buffy cut herself off before she completed a second hum-through of Unchained Melody. The song had been lodged in her brain all day and it was only getting worse. As earworms went this one was persistent, and was aggravatingly accompanied by every sarcastic snipey word Spike muttered. Every eye roll and condescending sneer.
She sighed nervously, swallowing around the tightness in her throat as she anticipated the tense evening to come.
Giles had been right that the bickering was exhausting. Ridiculous and so super childish… but…
…But—and she absolutely loathed this accompanying feeling—it was also just ever so slightly fulfilling, in the way a good fight could be. It was painful in the 'during' stage, but with kind of a satisfying afterglow, especially if she managed to land a good hit or two to make the fury really tighten his mouth; the wire cut of his jaw becoming even more pronounced.
Not that her gaze ever lingered there. No way. Of course it didn't.
Definitely not, she thought with silent determination. It's just sort of impossible not to look at his face when we're all of inches apart.
She hadn't been that close to him since Willow's catastrophic spell, and seeing a comeback land and set his eyes into blue flame was, admittedly, kind of addictive. For sure, she'd been intentionally stepping on his toes by the end of the evening, but he was such an obnoxious rage-inducing ass, how could she not?!
He's fun to torture, she allowed herself to think, reliving all the microscopic twitches that crossed his face when she really got under his skin. It had almost felt the way it had when they'd fought—really truly fought, with fists flying and snarky one-liners landing just as hard as the punches.
I don't miss that, she told herself. It was just a good workout-y sort of thing.
Her feet, however, were not in agreement and were already aching at the thought of trying to avoid Spike's boots for an hour.
This is going to be the longest evening ever, pouted the pouty voice at the back of her mind.
Buffy shook her head, straightening her back. No it won't. It's only one hour, she coached herself as she strode forcefully towards Giles' home. I'll totally get the whole waltzing-round-and-round thing this time. I just need one more hour. Two tops.
She re-evaluated every accidental misstep into Spike's shins from the night before, wincing as she imagined Riley in his place.
Three max, for sure.
But it would go better this time. It would, it definitely would. Yesterday she'd been all stressy and aggravated, and Spike was like fuel to the flame of stressy-and-aggravated, and so ergo it had taken ages before she'd actually managed a single correct step.
She was determined now, though. Focused and ready for another fight—
Not a fight, Buffy reminded herself. No fighting. Dancing. Ready for the dancing. Yay, dancing.
Dancing with Spike.
She rolled her eyes. Yay.
…Okay, it's going to take so much more than an hour.
Buffy whimpered, before squashing the thought and taking a calming breath in. No, just one more hour, she thought. Could probably do it in less time even. And Giles will be there to pull us apart if we start actually killing each other.
So.
It'll be fine.
Giles' place came into view and she swallowed.
I can totally do this.
"Giles!" Buffy called out as she let herself in. "I'm here!"
Silence and an empty apartment greeted her.
"Giles?"
Nothing.
Nothing except for the tinny far-off sound of the TV droning on in the bathroom.
She scanned the apartment one more time before slipping down the hallway, grabbing the shackle keys on her way to the bathroom.
Spike's unimpressed gaze dropped from the TV to her.
"Oh good. Bambi's back."
"Where's Giles?" she asked, snapping off the TV with a flick of her finger.
"How the bloody hell should I know? I'm not your Watcher's watcher," he sneered back, before shifting up against the curve of the bathtub into a sitting position. "Heard the door close about an hour ago. Didn't tell me where he was going."
Buffy sighed. "Great."
So much for a buffer.
…Maybe this isn't such a good idea, she thought, chewing her lip. Maybe I could call Riley and tell him I broke both my legs in a super tragic study accident. Heavy book fell on me out of nowhere…
She caught the twinkle in Spike's eyes, the slight pull of a smirk tugging at his mouth, and she knew he'd read that momentary tremor of apprehension.
"Having second thoughts, luv?" he asked, flashing sharp teeth in a grin when she glared down at him. "Should probably call the whole thing off. Ain't proper for a lady to be so unchaperoned."
"Nice try," she huffed, her resolve re-solidifying as she bent to unlock his ankles. "I'm sure that was great advice a hundred years ago, but I don't need a chaperone, especially since my dance partner is neutered."
To further aggravate her, Spike snickered.
"That's the second time in as many days you've referenced what's in my trousers, Slayer." Spike snickered, offering up his chained wrists. "A bloke could get the wrong impression."
"I could make an impression on your face instead," Buffy retorted without pause, yanking his hands closer so she could unlock them, dropping the shackles with a clatter into the bath once they were off his wrists. "I like when your nose makes that crunchy sound."
She headed back to the living room as he climbed out of the bath. The sofa was still pushed up against the desk, leaving a large swath of rug open to twirl across, and she took a slow steadying breath.
On the coffee table was a note.
"Buffy," it began in Giles' precise handwriting. "I'm attending a private viewing at your mother's gallery. Don't let Spike break anything. Giles."
"Perfect," she huffed sarcastically, and dropped the note on the sofa. She turned as Spike joined her in the living room, hand at his neck working out a knot at the base of it.
"Ready?" she asked in a perkily aggravating tone.
"Gimme a minute," he huffed, leaning back until his spine clicked. "Been stuck in the tub all day, my back's starting to break. I'm like the bleeding Hunchback of Notre Dame."
"Well, stretch it out," Buffy muttered as she dropped the CD in the player, pressing 'next' through the tracks until she got to Silence is Golden, (in case he needed reminding). "You're already way shorter than Riley as it is," she added under her breath.
Or not quite under her breath.
"That'd be the fellow you're trying to impress by not standing on his feet with what I'm going to estimate are burly size tens?"
"Size eights," Buffy bit back as the first verse began.
"Oh don't it hurt deep inside,To see someone do something to her…"
"Whatever you say, luv," he replied with a mocking grin that insinuated he was more than pleased with the bite. "Nice, normal boy is he?"
"Oh don't it pain to see someone cry, How, especially if that someone is her. Silence is golden, But my eyes still see…"
Buffy firmly and silently dismissed revealing the commando training, the secret double life, the military special ops as Spike's eyes bored into her and said, tightly, "Yep." Tersely popping the p. But her eye twitched as the song's lyrics seemed to marry perfectly with the drop in her gut.
"How could she tell? He deceived her so well,Pity she'll be the last one to know…"
"That do it for you?" Spike asked, as the song wound on without either of them making any move to begin the dance. "What did you opt for, big and brooding but without the bit of nasty on the inside? Blandest of both worlds, eh?"
"Do you see me very much not discussing my boyfriend with you, Spike? Eyes glaring? Hand curling into a fist? That's your cue to stop talking."
"Just curious why he isn't here, Slayer," Spike said, shrugging lightly like he wasn't even particularly interested in the answer. "Shouldn't getting stepped on be his privilege?"
"He's busy."
"Right." He nodded. "That's your type, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"Unavailable." He waited a beat to let the sting blossom under her skin. "Be in a right pickle, you would, if you actually picked a bloke you could be in the same room with."
Buffy smiled, but it was an 'already-so-sick-of-you' smile. "I guess I could pick someone who stalks me and follows me around all scary teeth and death threats. Wonder where I could get one of those?"
Spike raised a goading eyebrow. "You wanna try me on for size, honey, all you gotta do is ask."
Buffy snorted. "And yet, somehow, she resisted his charms. Can we get on with it?"
He pursed his lips, and she waited a second, before narrowing a last pointed look at him and raising her arms into the dancing position, waiting for his hand and his shoulder. A pump of her eyebrow insinuated it was this or back in the bath.
After a momentarily rebellious pause, Spike moved into her, flexing his shoulder as her fingers held on to him lightly, closing his hand around hers.
"...my eyes still see,Silence is golden, golden,But my eyes still see…"
"Two, three," he muttered under his breath and stepped forward as she managed to smoothly step back, only a slight wobble as they began a circle, her fingers digging in for a second when she overbalanced and brushed too close to him.
Another turn and she collided with his hip. She cursed as Spike grinned, adjusting his posture to bring her a flustered centimeter closer, taking advantage of their lack of audience.
"It's easier if you get a bit close, luv," he murmured. "Feel each other moving."
"Feeling you is the last thing I want to do, Spike."
"Oh?" he chuckled, cruelly. "The last? But I made it on the list, huh? Not sure how I feel about having to wait a turn."
"God. Thank you for that incredibly revolting insight into your mind," Buffy growled as she stumbled in his grip. "There's only one name on the list, and you're not it."
Spike smiled and leaned in. "You and Riley? I give the pair of you a month," he whispered into her ear. "Two tops if he manages to make any sort of a crease in your sheets."
"You know, if you keep trying to wheedle information about my sex life," Buffy said blithely, "a girl could get the wrong impression. Fishing for your own set of bruises?"
Spike sneered at the obvious jab at his brief sparkling moment in the sun—post Parker—and tugged her closer.
"Does he like the ones you give him, Slayer? Does he take it so nice?" He leered when her cheeks warmed into a darker pink. "Does he make you burn?"
Buffy snorted, rolling her eyes at his audacity.
"He gets the job done. Okay?" she added with an acerbic glower. It did nothing to deter Spike. It never did.
"Oh, thrilling," he hissed. "Good thing I'm not the jealous type."
"You're the psychotic type," Buffy replied, bristling, moving seamlessly along with him now that her attention was firmly off her feet.
"And ain't that just your bag, sweetheart." His hand splayed across her lower back as they spun. His arm snaked tighter around her until she was fully crushed against him. She almost tripped as she felt his fingers brushing over the stake she'd tucked into the waistband of her jeans.
"Does he know about this?" Spike asked and Buffy's heart thumped.
He meant the stake, and everything it represented. Of course he did. But with how close their bodies were his words could easily have meant… something else…
"He knows," she replied. (Or lied, depending on which implication they were discussing.)
Spike's lip curled, an unexpected look of smug satisfaction crossing his face. "Took it well, did he?"
Buffy glared in response. It was the only safe option. Loudly proclaiming how well Riley had taken what amounted to a whole lot of destiny with a side helping of superpowers would be an oversell.
And—if she was being honest—a lie.
There had definitely been a stammer when he'd found out. A slight hesitation that said all too clearly he was about halfway to "freaked".
It was the awe that had been the first red flag. The "what are you?" initial reaction that he'd rushed to cover with words like "amazing" and "incredible" and a lot of other adjectives that basically amounted to "not human". Of the reliably undateable variety.
So it had been a shock when he'd persisted. When he'd gone after her hard and oh so winningly called her stupid for not giving him a chance, right before impending doom had become rather less pending and turned into full blown imminent.
Buffy frowned to herself, hardly noticing the song drawing to a close…
"How many times will she fall for his lines…"
In the aftermath of Sunnydale's weekly brush with falling into the Hellmouth she'd sort of sidestepped dealing with that second red flag…
"And if I tried I know she'd say I lied,Mind your business don't hurt her you fool…"
To her dismay, Spike laughed, startling her out of her train of thought.
"Then I give it three weeks, regardless of how adequately he performs in the sack."
Buffy blinked, mentally changing trains and getting on board the Rage Line, Destination: Punch. "What, Slayers can't date? Is that your point?"
"I'm saying the reason you lasted as long as you did with the Ancient Sulk was because he got it. He was as much of the dark as you are, luv. As much a part of it. Dealing with death and destruction and global annihilation like it's a goddamn nine-to-five isn't conducive to date nights on a Friday and tedious sex with the lights off. Sooner or later you're gonna need some sort of release."
Buffy's hand curled into a fist (not altogether realizing it meant holding Spike's hand that much tighter).
"Like you're the expert on release," she countered, her blood beginning to boil, refusing to let any more of what he'd said penetrate deeper or else she might crush the shoulder gripped in her other hand.
Spike grinned. "I get the job done."
Buffy snorted, barely hearing the music over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. "You can't bite, can't fight, and you live in a bathtub. 'Release' is so not the word I would use. You're about as constrained as it gets."
His smile faltered, dropping into a snarl. "Get this chip out of me, luv, I'll show you constrained."
"Promise?" Buffy took a step forward as the chorus surged again, and Spike just about managed to move his foot out of the way. "Because you talk a lot about being the Big Bad-" another step and an ember of malice warmed her gut when his eyes hesitantly dipped to their feet as he stumbled back. "But I'm pretty sure you're nowhere near as bad as you say you are."
Another step nearly tripped him and he glowered at her. The hand around her waist dug in just shy of ripping a hole in the fabric of her shirt. She took one last step forward, and Spike bumped up against Giles' bookcase, his jaw sharp as glass.
"Or as big," she added.
"You think, huh?" he growled through gritted teeth.
"Oh, I do think. I think a lot of things. But do you know what I know?" His nostrils flared as she pinned the hand clasped in hers to the shelf by his hip, his shoulder with the hand over his collarbone. "You couldn't take me on, even if you tried."
She watched as Spike's eyes dilated in outrage. She was so close to him she could feel his lungs rising and falling, panting in anger. A mirror of her own.
High on their shared fury she leaned in, lips parting as his head dipped, seemingly just as hypnotized as she was.
What am I doing? she thought, a single brain cell of sanity trying to batter its way into her consciousness. What am I…?
She glanced up at him. At the ravenous look on his face. The murder in his eyes.
She stalled, her brain trying desperately to find a foothold on the situation as she leaned back a half inch—
But in a lightning flash Spike's free hand was off her lower back and around her neck. Too fast for her to react, too fast to do more than blink, Buffy braced herself as he pulled her forward in a sharp tug.
And crashed his lips against hers.
xXx
"You couldn't take me on, even if you tried."
Spike's throat tightened in fury. His teeth ground together, aching to flash out and sink into her artery. Her pulse was beating so loud, and her neck was so close, and all of it was just begging to be impaled on his fangs!
Christ, her presence burned, it burned, and something inside him was screaming for that heat to sear him inside and out, to swallow him whole. And then she'd leaned in just an atom closer, and her hand had tightened its grip on his wrist just to force the point home, and God, it was too much!
Something snapped.
He bit her.
Except he couldn't bite her and the part of his brain that knew that changed the action without warning, deftly avoiding a million volts coursing through his gray matter by way of an equally reckless decision. His hand grabbed her by the back of the neck and his mouth crashed into hers in a kiss that might as well have been a punch.
Buffy froze in his grip, but she took it, breathing in sharply through her nose before instinct kicked in and she started fighting back. Fighting back with lips and tongue and teeth, kissing hard enough that his head clipped the bookcase from the force. The hand on his shoulder dropped to grip his hip, her fingertips digging into a dip over his pelvis that sent electric fireworks surging downward.
He groaned, and pushed his tongue into her mouth. She shuddered out a gasp, and hell but that little shiver rippling up her spine was so delicious he wanted to eat it. Wanted to cause it again, and again, until the muscles pinning him to the bookcase melted and she was liquid in his arms.
Fuck…
He briefly twisted the pinned wrist out of her grip but she recaught it, pressing his arm into the books behind him as she sucked his lip in between her teeth and bit down. Spike jolted.
Fuck!
His hand tangled harder in her hair, but she was already kissing away the sting, already dancing her tongue with his—
Oh Christ, he thought as the kiss turned frantic, feverish, his lips devouring hers in a way that was more addictive than blood, simultaneously too much and not enough—
She jerked back and Spike thought for a second he must have bitten her after all from the look of horror on her face.
Except she was turning to look over her shoulder.
To see Giles walking in through the front door.
Spike blinked at the situational U-turn. The pair of them were panting so hard, clearly interrupted from tearing each other to pieces, and in one of Buffy's heartbeats, the vision of the scene hit him like one of her uppercuts.
…Fuck.
Giles glanced up from the art catalog in his hands.
"Buffy," he sighed, dropping the catalog onto his desk with a thwap. "When I said don't let Spike break anything, I was also implying don't use Spike to break anything. That bookcase is an antique," he added heading through to the kitchen and filling the kettle.
"...Right," Buffy croaked, releasing her hold on Spike's hip, taking a half step back to allow Spike enough space to sag out of her grip.
"The dance lessons are going well, I take it?" Giles asked as he pulled a mug from the cabinet.
"Yep," Buffy answered tightly.
"Swimmingly," Spike snickered under his breath and she shoved him back into the bookcase in warning.
He grinned wider, staring without restraint at the way her lips were plumping to fullness from how hard he'd kissed, at how a delicious pink hue was coloring her cheeks.
Oh. Made the Slayer blush…
He shivered. He'd known the girl could kiss. He'd been on the receiving end of more than a few under her pet witch's mis-spell, and as much as he'd protested after the fact, the memories of her tongue in his mouth had been a nice little kick for when his hand was round his cock and the thought of Dru's fangs in his neck hadn't been enough to get him over the finish line.
But he hadn't known she could kiss like that. That had been almost as violent as the fierce brawls he'd recently been denied on a permanent basis. Had felt as wild and out of control as every time he'd almost had her by the throat. Decadent in the way complete loss of control often was.
He choked down a sick chuckle. Bloody hell, maybe I really am covered in her…
He could still taste her. Could still feel the burning warmth of her like it had blistered his skin. Could feel the indents her teeth had left on his lip, and a ravenous voice in his head was growling more.
She caught him staring, and he straightened, smiling smugly, before wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his thumb, ignoring the way her eyes flashed full of venom.
What I wouldn't give to be a bit more covered in her, he thought with an internal leer.
"We'll…pick up again tomorrow," Buffy muttered pointedly to Giles as she took hold of Spike by the arm and frog-marched him towards the bathroom.
"Perfect," Giles sighed sarcastically into his tea.
Perfect, sneered Spike to himself.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It meant nothing, Buffy repeated internally as leaden feet carried her to Giles' place for the third time that week.
It meant nothing.
The events of the previous night had been playing on an endless loop. She tried to pull away from them, to think of something else, but she was stuck tight. Could only conjure up that blackout moment, that freefall sensation when he'd broken loose from whatever final tether to sanity he'd had inside him. Visions of that split-second before he'd crashed into her fizzed like champagne in her mind. White noise replaced everything but the grip of his hand in her hair, his lips over hers hard enough she could feel his teeth.The twenty-four hours since had passed in an unregistered blur. There had been classes, and lunch with Will, and probably some sort of slayage since she was holding a stake tightly in her hand, but it was only once late-evening had descended that she'd come back into herself.Although she clearly hadn't snapped back to full reality yet if she was pondering the way Spike kissed with anything less than all-out revulsion.Revulsion would hit soon. Count on it. She was just all headspun. From all the twirling round and around. It had been a momentary lapse of concentration (that had yet to lift) and she'd been really, really angry. And sure, yeah, that anger had flamed into an unexpected wildfire, but (and sue her if she was becoming a one-track record) It Meant Nothing.It was so so all different types of nothing. Totally nothing, she added, trying to make the mantra more persuasive even as her face felt like it could blister from the heat in her cheeks.She couldn't stop running her fingers across her lips as her heart rate beat itself into a fever pitch, reliving the feeling of the plump tenderness they'd swelled to. Like they'd been stung. The numbness lingered...
Stop it!
She forced her hand back to her side, trying to block out how it had felt to have his wrist flexing uselessly in her hold even as he dragged her in by the back of her neck, neither one able to get away from the other. Chaotic yet immovable, just as his presence in her head had become.
Oh God, what am I gonna tell Riley—
Nothing! cried the voice in her head as the word started to lose all meaning. Um, hello!? We're not even telling him about the dance lessons tutored by his recent science experiment! This is not in the bounds of telling...ness! Silence is golden here, right!?Buffy nodded to herself. Right…Although, in honesty, she was sick of that song.And here she was striding (however slowly) back onto the battlefield.It felt like only seconds had passed since she'd left it. Since she'd hauled Spike back into the bathroom and shoved him with full force back into the tub. Her rough handling had done nothing to dampen the heat in his gaze."Don't I get a goodnight kiss?" he'd purred lecherously as she'd finished shackling his wrists. She'd given him the only comeback she'd had in her repertoire, considering all words were clogged uncomfortably between her lungs and her throat.But even the bloody nose hadn't wiped the grin from his face.Buffy took a calming breath as she crossed the courtyard to Giles' door. It would be alright. Giles would be there this time so he could pull them apart if things started to go south again.
Really, really south…
She cleared her throat, and pushed through the front door."Hi Giles! I'm here!" she called out, and melted slightly in relief to spot him in the kitchen.
One buffer: check!
"Wonderful," he called back as he finished rinsing a plate in the sink and placed it on the drying rack. "I'll be off."Buffy blinked."What?" she blurted out as he dried his hands on a towel."Since you're Spike-sitting for the evening, I'm taking the opportunity to attend a lecture at the college," he explained, crossing the living room and taking his suede coat off the coat rack."But I need you here!" she cried. "You're my buffer! My Buffy-buffer!""As nice as it is to be needed, the fact that I'll be out of the way for the majority of your dance lesson is, admittedly, the main draw," he replied. "Best of luck," he added as the front door closed with finality.The clack of the front door caused the waiting silence to swarm in, prickling the hairs on the back of her neck.Buffy bit her lip. And then very carefully un-bit it since the sensation was far too similar to ones she'd been on the receiving end of last night.She pouted. She was losing her grip on her mantra of denial. It had been something. A really, really, really stupid something that had been pulled out of her from too much proximity to Spike. Having him intruding so deeply in her personal space was fraying her nerves. He brought out the worst in her, but she hadn't realized how far down the worst went.
Argh! Nothing! It meant nothing!
She'd only done what she'd done because it was that or rip his head off and get vampire dust all over Giles' furniture, and plus he'd started it so it wasn't even her fault!She paused, taking a breath. Forcefully pushed down the abrasive feeling of frustration that was threatening to breach her bloodstream. That wasn't a safe feeling to have here. Cool, calm, unbothered, nothingyness. It would be fine. It was the last night of Spike tutorage. With or without a Buffy-buffer it couldn't get any worse than the worst it had already gotten, and that was almost a comforting thought.One more try, she thought, tightening her bottom lip in determination. I feel like I'm so close, I just need one more… spin. She rolled her eyes at herself, relieved she hadn't said those words out loud in front of anyone.This whole stupid wedding thing better earn me major girlfriend points, she thought bitterly. All the points. Big, supreme, jumbo-scoreboard, gold-medal achieving points. …To make up for Spike's tongue in your mouth, sneered the voice she'd really started to hate.She sighed and hung up her jacket, heading for the bathroom.
It's not going to happen again. That was a fluke.
We hate each other… that's the whole… point.
She froze in her tracks as faint humming started from the other side of the door, crooning like a siren ready to dash her brains out on the rocks, making her heart beat frantically."Oh, don't it hurt deep inside, To see someone do something to her. Oh, don't it pain to see someone cry—"She pushed open the door and caught Spike mid-chorus, eyes closed in apparent melodic rapture.Oh for God's sake, she huffed."Oh, especially when someone is her…" He tilted his head towards her as if only just noticing her coming into the bathroom. His gaze met hers. "Hello, Bambi. Couldn't keep away?""I said I'd be back tomorrow," she said, keeping her tone bright and unperturbed.He grinned vindictively. "Counting the minutes, were you?""You're so full of yourself," Buffy sighed, breaking eye contact long enough to reach for the shackles' keys."Yeah?" His eyes sparkled as he watched her bend to unlock his wrists. "Climb in here with me, pet, it could be a shared affliction."Buffy felt her eye starting to twitch but she fought it down.Fought it down until it was a twitch far more south.
God, stop it!
Get a grip!
It's just dancing with Spike, the feeling you're reaching for is disgust and exasperation not… not…
She cleared her throat sharply."No thanks," she replied with acerbic brittleness, letting the shackles clatter against the porcelain. "Let's go. Dance time," she commanded, and rose off her feet, turning to the door."Can't keep her hands off me," she heard him chuckle to himself and the sound burned across her shoulder blades.
Nothing.
It means nothing.
But a shivery heat bristled up her spine.xXxLeaning lazily against the antique bookcase, Spike watched as Buffy cleared the furniture off their rug-lined dance floor. He'd heard the scrapes of the living room being put back into place the night before—followed swiftly by the front door slamming—and had decided to get a good vantage point this time around, enjoying the way Buffy bent down, both hands planted on the edge of sofa cushions, before she pushed it back out of the way.
Nice view…
Buffy straightened up. And caught him staring. He let his gaze rise ever so slowly back to hers before smiling at her in just the way he knew drove her insane. He could see it in the way her jaw clenched.After a moment to savor it, Spike cocked his head, considering the rest of the room. And then crossed to the sofa.He bent down, and pushed both sofa and desk as far towards the opposite wall as they would go."We're doing it properly," he answered her questioning look. "No more tripping over each other's feet.""Fine," she huffed, still obviously a little riled up as he crossed the room to the CD player. He extracted Disc One from the CD slot. He was sick of Silence Is Golden, and he'd pull a Van Gogh on both ears rather than suffer through Unchained Melody ever again.He flipped the case and perused the track list of the second disc as it slid home in its tray.
No… no… no…
…Hm. He tapped the case against his fingertips, a mean smirk stretching across his face. That'll do. He skipped to the fourth track, and turned into the frosty glower the Slayer was leveling at him as the intro to Needles and Pins by The Searchers strummed in the air.The first verse crooned out of the speakers and she frowned at his song choice, searching his face for the ulterior motive, her shoulders stiff with suspicion."I saw her today, I saw her face,It was a face I loved, and I knew,I had to run away and get down on my knees and pray,That they'd go away but still they begin.Needles and pins…""Ready, Slayer?" he asked, extending his hand, and after a brief hesitation she slid her palm against his, locking their hands together. Warm fingers splayed the top of his shoulder, and he held down a shiver as memory surged. How she'd pinned him there, fingers digging in like a vice over his collarbone and the slope of his neck.
Bet I can bring the tiger out of her cage again…
He pulled her flush against him. The first step she managed without even a hesitation. The second. The third. Her attention on the music and not on him yet."Because of all my pride,The tears I gotta hide."He started humming it under his breath. Practically absentmindedly, but the tips of her ears turned red. She still didn't miss a step even as he started singing, low and lazy as if to himself."I thought I was smart, I'd won a heart,Didn't think I'd do. But now I see,She's worse to him than me…""Let her go ahead. Take his love instead…"Buffy stiffened as his singing became more direct, low and purred into her ear. She turned her head to face him as he sang the next line looking straight into her eyes."And one day she will see just how to say please." He grinned, letting his gaze drift down to her lips. "And get down on her knees—"Her hand shot up from his shoulder and had him by the neck, squeezing so hard her thumb bit into the muscle by his artery, fiery contempt scorching the green in her eyes."Yeah, that's how it begins…""What are you doing?" she growled.He leaned closer, the splayed hand at her back keeping her flush with his pelvis. God, she felt gorgeous, all shivering anger trembling against him even as the heat sank into his bones.
Oh, to get her on her knees…
"Haven't you figured it out yet, luv?"Her brow creased even as she gripped harder, but he shrugged lightly, happy not to make her work for the answer."You dance better when you're a little hot under the collar."Always have done, he added in the privacy of his own head as he let the pressure drop from his arm, causing Buffy to fall momentarily out of his grip, dipping low before the flat of his forearm brought her back up again. "Stop thinking about the moves, honey... just feel it."He was feeling it. Christ, how he was feeling it, their kiss reigniting into psychosomatic tingles across his lips as he brought her close, breasts heaving against his chest as she caught her breath, eyes flashing with a dangerous light the way they had before they'd collided."Why can't I stop and tell myself I'm wrong, I'm wrong, so wrong,Why can't I stand up, and tell myself I'm strong…"But he didn't want to anymore. Didn't want to break away, the way Dru had pleaded with him to. Maybe all this was inevitable, and fighting it was just making him sink deeper, like being stuck in quicksand.I am covered in her, he admitted to himself. The thought didn't come with any kind of anger this time, feeling almost comfortable, settling onto the bed of nails of wanting her. It didn't matter. A little bit of lust would make her blood taste sweeter when he finally got the chip out of his head.He could see her warring with herself, trying to maintain a foothold on her indignance, but she was impressed—with him and herself—and it was such a simple thing to twist her into another spin."Because I saw her today, I saw her face,It was a face I loved…"He wasn't hearing the song anymore. White noise filled his ears as an almost-smile flickered at the corner of her mouth as she spun back into his arms in a twirl.Minx, he thought as she shot him a smug look, holding a grin of her own back even as her hand settled just slightly too high on his neck, thumb resting in the dip over his windpipe in a light warning. Minx with claws. "And I knew, I had to run away,And get down on my knees and pray,That they'd go away but still they begin,Needles and pins…"They were dancing for real now. No half stumbles, no glances down at their feet, just an effortless box-step that led them in a wide, sweeping circle."Oh, needles and pins,Needles and pins." More than a little intoxicated with the feeling of her hot, warm body pressed against his, Spike spun them, relishing the closeness the sudden movement required. A flurried, dizzying blur as every step of hers was split with a step of his between her feet. She managed to keep her back straight, an elated squeak escaping her lungs as she gripped his shoulder tighter as just the tips of her shoes touched the floor."...Needles and pins." "Oh, atta girl, Bambi," he purred when he brought them to a stop and she twirled beneath his hand and back into his arms as if she'd been dancing all her life."Shut up," she admonished, but hell if she wasn't grinning herself. Clearly couldn't help it from the sound of blood pounding in her chest, heart beating triple time.The song stopped, but they didn't. Still moving around each other as With A Girl Like You began."I want to spend my life with a girl like you…Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba…"Buffy glanced up to his face, smiling curiously, and he realized he was humming to himself again."And do all the things that you want me to,Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba."She raised an eyebrow as he ba-ba-ba'd, stepping easily around his feet as they twirled again, instinctively knowing when he was going to stop, but she didn't ease her grip this time."'Til that time has come…" he sang, since that smile was making him dizzy even without the spinning, and fuck but even though he loved her scowl he thought he might actually love that unimpressed smirk more. "That we might live as one… Can I dance with you?""Not after tonight," she said, answering the song's question.Spike smirked, even as an unexpected feeling of disappointment hit him squarely in the chest, making him blink for a second. He pushed it down."Whatever you say, luv," he purred. "You'll be begging for another spin."She stiffened in his grip momentarily, eyes darting up to his, as though he'd hit a nerve."Dream on," she hit back even as he brought her almost off her feet in a turn. "It's easier than I thought it'd be, though," she added as he settled her into a sway."Told you it's better when you get a bit close," he murmured, and she nodded."Girl, why should it be,That you don't notice me?Can I dance with you?""Always thought we moved well together," Spike said, and Buffy watched him back cautiously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Would rather be fighting you anyway," he added, and her mouth twitched into a half smile of acknowledgement."Yeah," she murmured."Baby, baby, is there no chance,I can take you for the last dance?All night long, yeah, I've been waitingNow there'll be no hesitating…"Her stomach was practically flush with his at this point, and Spike had to assume that no matter how open-minded her new beau was, this would be past the point of rational explanation.Buffy seemed to realize that and leaned back, reinstating some distance, even if it was only an inch."I'm still fighting you," she said quietly, her hand squeezing his slightly, and Spike caught the pulse at her neck twitching harder.He walked forward into her, reclosing the distance, keeping down a leer when she didn't protest. "Not that hard."She huffed. A sound that could be either exasperation or amusement and gave nothing away. "No, not that hard."She swallowed, her eyes sliding to his mouth as her lips parted slightly, and Spike thought if it had been Dru in his arms—or Harmony, or some bint from the Bronze, or literally anyone that wasn't fully capable of twisting his head clean off his shoulders—he would've had his tongue practically in her throat by now."What does it matter, though?" he asked. "If it's the last time anyway?""So, before this dance has reached the end,Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba,To you across the floor, my love I'll send,Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba…"She stared at him, complex calculations flitting through her eyes as she visibly tried to assess the situation, but he wasn't going to give her the chance to overthink her way out of it. Not when she felt so soft and so warm in his hands. Not when her breath kept fanning against his neck and making the nerves stand to attention, begging for her touch there.He dipped her low. Lower and lower, and so low her leg came up to his hip for balance."I just hope and pray,That I'll find a way to say…""Spike," she whispered.He moved to kiss her, but she met him in an uprise, soft lips over his, and then a gasp as he squeezed the air from her lungs with his arm around her ribs."Buffy…"
Can I dance with you?
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"…Can I dance with you?"It was the music.And the dancing, definitely the dancing. It had spun her head around so much that up was down, right was wrong, and Spike was… was anyone but Spike.It wasn't real, that was the key thing. It wasn't a spell, but it still wasn't real, it couldn't possibly be real, and she was holding onto that thought with bloody nails rather than admit to the butterflies rioting in her belly. Rather than reconcile with the fact she'd kissed him first this time because it felt far too much like giving in. Breaking the rules, at least for as long as his arm was around her waist, his fingers wrapped around hers, both tasting their mutual hatred melt into something else as the song changed.The kiss ended as he pulled her upright, their dance continuing, but something important had fractured even as she regained momentum. Confidence faltered as doubt crept back in, hyper-aware of every movement, every note warbling from the stereo, every tension of Spike's fingers at her back as she followed his lead, her brain scrabbling to commit it all to memory for some reason and the first line sung almost tripped her."Ah, she takes just like a woman…"Buffy swallowed.I don't have to take, she tried to persuade herself as she took a strained breath in. Just because it's there and it's easy doesn't mean it's right. Or… good. It's still Spike! And it's still… me. "And then she makes love just like a woman…"Those words hurt and she couldn't figure out why—or rather she could if she wasn't actively shying away from the shard of glass glinting under those words, ready to cut her open if she put a foot wrong—but the feeling was easily ignored with how close their bodies were. With how tightly he was holding her hand (there was no gentility in that grip, just as there was nothing gentle in what she wanted at that moment, and that thought alone was terrifying), and how earnestly Spike was looking at her.God, he really could look at her. Cold as he was, there was always heat in his gaze and she'd thought that heat had been 'hate' but now it looked like something had flipped the switch on that bloodlust-o-vision in his eyes and he was staring at her like he wanted to sink his teeth into her in an entirely different way."And then she aches just like a woman..."Her heart thudded as Spike's nose brushed against hers, the song bringing her attention down to a cavernous feeling of unfulfillment that once it had been noticed refused to be ignored. She knew what it meant to ache…
"Does he make you burn?"
Spike's question from the night before tightened her throat. Did Riley make her burn? The way Spike's hand linked with hers was making her burn? The same way her fist landing a blow across his jaw had done before that particular outlet had been denied them?She dragged herself back from those questions that made her lungs feel too small to breathe.
Obviously not. That's a way different type of burn. That's an angry burn… it's not the same.
His hand on her back flattened into a daring caress and she held her breath.
Isn't it?
His arm circled her waist tighter, her breasts crushed to his chest until she was sure he could feel her pulse beating through his skin.Pull back, she pleaded as her heart thundered. This is… this is really not a good idea…His lips grazed hers, and her eyes dipped closed."But she breaks just like a little girl."And her resolve disintegrated. She kissed him again. And again. And again and harder as his hand dropped from hers to cup her shoulder, dropping onto the back of her neck to drag her in, the words muting themselves in the air as his tongue slipped into her mouth, twining with hers, his feet walking her backward.Her back hit the bookcase she'd had him pinned to the day before, and something dislodged inside it this time from the force of his body against hers, his hand pressed to the glass next to her head. The song wound on but she was deaf to it."God what I'd do to you," Spike whispered, only audible over the music because of the proximity. "If we weren't supposed to be killing each other."Buffy's eyes closed as his mouth latched onto her neck, swallowing tightly as his hips pressed into hers."If we weren't supposed to be killing each other," she repeated, tilting her head as his tongue caught the hoops in her ears. "What would you do?"She hadn't meant it as encouragement but he seemed to take it as such anyway, righting her, sitting her on the ledge of the bookcase's cabinet so he could press against her fully, a lecherous grin across his mouth even as his eyes dipped half-closed as though in reverence."Dance with you," he answered, and the roll of his hips insinuated he didn't mean ballroom. He groaned against her skin as she wrapped her legs around him. It was an automatic reflex, just to stop herself from slipping further down the bookcase, but his hands were suddenly digging into her thighs, winding them tighter until her ankles crossed at his back. "That's all I want to do."Buffy shivered. Held tighter just as he did. Kissing back harder and harder until she could feel her lips bruise from the onslaught, and as he pinched her lower lip between his teeth, testing the swell, she moaned.Her ears burned to hear it, the hungry growl he echoed it with lighting a fire in her bloodstream and dappling her cheeks a dusky pink.Somewhere there should have been revulsion. She knew that. She wasn't so far gone from herself that she'd lost sight of that. There should absolutely be horror too, at the fact that it was Spike grinding between her legs and potentially causing permanent damage to Giles' antique bookcase.And guilt, definitely guilt, all with guilt, because this was not what good girlfriends did even if her intentions had originally been so noble, so innocent. Even as she'd strode back in a third night in a row, she hadn't really believed they'd end up here again. Flukes were all fluke-ish, lightning never struck the same place twice. Though apparently, stupidity never knew when to stop striking.…But the way he kissed didn't feel like a betrayal, it felt like sparring. It felt like winning every time he bucked against her and she earned a groan against her mouth, every time he gripped her just a bit tighter. It felt right, the way good versus evil felt right. Natural; two halves of a whole.Two partners in a dance."This doesn't mean anything," she argued breathlessly, more with herself than anyone else, trying to summon the guilt that was supposed to be there, but he growled into their next kiss, biting as hard as his electronic leash would allow."It means everything, Slayer. It means everything."xXx"...Can I dance with you?"Spike groaned, holding tight as the warmth of Buffy's skin sank into every muscle, her lips pressing insistently into his.She'd kissed him first this time. She'd kissed him first, and the world had fallen away. Not just the world outside, but inside too. Nothing but the feel of her mouth against his, nothing but the tapping of her beating heart filling his mouth. His whole body.Filling it the way Dru had drained it. It was like his heart was beating again, and he could practically taste the salt of it. Of wanting more, and fuck but he'd never had that before. The spotlight had never been on him; he was always the attentive light shining on another, but Buffy was kissing him and he could barely think through it.It was like a hunger.Kissing her was so close to biting her, drinking her in and in and in, and yet never reaching that full-body slackness of her corpse sinking in his arms, death closing in around the blood loss. Rather than getting weaker, dwindling, stuttering out, her heartbeat was pounding, getting faster.He pulled her out of their dip, breaking their kiss as the music changed."Ah, she takes just like a woman."And didn't she just. Didn't she just take every blow, every knockdown, like she was built for it? Like nothing could mark that beautiful skin of hers. He'd seen it first hand, how much she could take, how she could spin it around into strength, and he didn't doubt that the more carnal meaning of those words would be just the same."You couldn't take me on, even if you tried."His tongue darted out to run across his lower lip, tasting the traces of her there.
God, but I wouldn't mind trying…
"And then she makes love just like a woman…"He felt her tense in his hold, her breath fanning his cheek hotter now, and it was as though the words were spell-binding, like their hold on each other was a promise, and it was starting to make him dizzy. The warmth of her in his arms was thawing something in him and letting go was becoming impossible.She seemed just as dazed, staring at his mouth as she panted, and as he flattened his hand at her back, bringing their bodies flush against one another, he felt the anticipatory shiver dance up her spine."And then she aches just like a woman…"Christ, he bet she did. He just bet she did.There was no way that tension—that permanent girder over her shoulders, that grit in her jawline—spoke of any kind of release. Of any kind of fulfillment. She ached, and he could all but taste it.They were so close now it was nothing to dip his head to hers, breathe her in.
Give me a chance, luv…
Give me a chance.
Kiss me again.
"But she breaks just like a little girl."It was still a shock when she did. The newness of her lips against his was still sharp like a knife, but he'd cut himself open on it just to taste her more.He dragged her deeper, practically clawing at her, feeling her gasp into his mouth as he pushed her back and back until she was up against the bookcase, her legs linking around his hips.There were words, but he was hardly aware of them, whispering sweet somethings to her as he got his mouth on her neck the way he'd always wanted to, the burning heat between her thighs setting a blaze in his gut.
Want you, bloody hell, how I want you!
And she wanted him back, that was unmistakable, clearly enunciated with every scorching kiss and panted gasp, as her hands curled into his hair."This doesn't mean anything," Buffy rasped, and the tremor in her words gave it away for the lie it was.He'd forgive her for it though, since he was just as headspun.
It means everything, Slayer… It means everything.
He bit her, teeth pinching in a kiss so fierce it would've hurt. Should've hurt, but apparently the chip didn't account for her pleasure balancing out the scales as she moaned into his mouth and no voltage in his frontal lobe accompanied it.She bit him back, her teeth digging into his lip as she clawed his arms, and then she was off the bookcase and wrapped around him completely.Spike staggered and turned, and only just managed to hold out a steadying hand as they crashed down to the carpet, taking the brunt of the fall along his forearm as Buffy clung to him. She arched her back instinctively as he peeled her t-shirt up her stomach, refusing to relinquish her kiss until the fabric was bunching at her collarbone. She ducked her head as he took it off, surging back up to him with her hands dragging him back in. Not that he needed dragging.Tastes just like a woman too, he groaned inwardly, raising his arms as she pulled his shirt off him in kind."Christ, you're hot," he breathed as his bare skin slid across hers. She was; her body under his like a fever burning him up. Two slayers he'd had his hands on before her but this didn't compare. The bloodlust had been snuffed out and now it was just all out lust. His hand was at the bow of her spine, fingers poised to flick open the catch of her bra when she froze, as the living room phone trilled next to Giles' armchair. She lay gasping underneath him, and after several rings, the phone clicked to the machine."Hey Buffy," said the slightly staticky voice of what Spike assumed was the Slayer's newest toy. "I couldn't get an answer at your dorms or your mom's—," Buffy scrambled, shoving Spike to the side and he cackled, catching her ankle and pulling her back out of reach of the phone, over her in a flash, his fingers reaching for the receiver, "so thought I'd make a last-ditch attempt here—" She punched him in the gut and spun him underneath straddling his chest with her hand pinning him down to the floor by his shoulder as she picked the phone out of its cradle and hit the answer button."Riley!" she gasped, breathless, and Spike leered up at her. "Here, I'm here, I'm—" she paused, swallowing as Riley's tinny voice chirped out of the headset. "No, nothing like that," she answered. "Just caught me mid… workout." She glared as he raised an eyebrow, savoring the blush it caused, a pretty pink flush dappling her cheeks. "No, everything's fine," she said again, and then her eyebrow creased slightly. "Of course I'm being careful…"Spike frowned. The muscles in Buffy's neck were tensing, the blush in her cheeks no longer from arousal."I mean it was barely an apocalypse, and I super handled it— fine, we… no, I… uh huh…"Spike squirmed. Buffy's hand only pinned him harder. But her eyes wouldn't meet his. Her hackles were dropping again, but only just barely, a smile being forced at gunpoint onto her mouth, bright and cheerful and saccharine, and Spike loathed it."Yeah, no problem…" she said at last after a lengthy bout of one-sided conversation. "I know… I miss you too. Bye."Spike gritted his teeth. Well, wasn't that heartfelt?They stared at each other for what seemed like an age before Buffy raised herself off him. She reached for her t-shirt, and slipped it over her head, untucking her hair in a flourish."Thanks for the dance lessons," she said, not meeting his eyes, and was out the door before he could say anything back.Spike blinked as the door shut, letting out a stunned huff as he dragged his hands down his face, the song finishing its last verse."...Now I, I guess I just can't fit,And I believe it's time for us to quit,And when we meet again, introduced as friends,Please don't let on that you knew me when,I was hungry, and it was your world!""Ah, you fake just like a woman…"He snorted."Ain't that the truth.""You make love just like a woman,And then you ache just like a woman,But you break just like a little girl."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Riley was right.Sometimes it was nice just to drive.The car radio filled the silence between them. It was the one-sided kind of silence where half the party was sitting in awkward muteness while the other half was enjoying the shared calm, and Buffy was struggling to find any words to fill the void as Riley relaxed in peaceful obliviousness.The wedding had gone well. There had been a lot of high collars and sweeping skirts.But apparently being the best man meant Riley was allowed to bow out of the costumed opulence and just wear a suit, leaving Buffy feeling out of place beside him in her lilac satin dress with the square low-cut neckline she'd managed to score from a vintage clothes shop downtown. He could've told her that.And not to get really complainy, but her feet were completely unblistered, not one blister, not a single stepped-on toe.Since they'd been sitting down the entire reception. "Oh, I can't dance," Riley had said, wincing when she enquired whether he'd be the one leading, or her. "Just the swaying side-to-side variety."She'd blinked. A little stunned."Oh," she'd offered meekly, her thoughts jolting through a reevaluation of his initial invitation.He'd said there'd be dinner, drinks, and dancing. Joked that it'd be the 'full ballroom operation'...He'd never said they'd be doing all three.Still blinking, Buffy had watched Riley's eyes widen, reading panic surge across his face as her "Oh" landed home."Uh, but I can…um…" he started, not quite offering to spin her on the dance floor, but certainly making it apparent he would offer, as long as the offer was definitely going to be rejected. "I can…" he said again, gallantly waiting for her to interrupt him."No! No, that's okay!" Buffy sputtered, backpedaling from the grimace she'd caused on her date's face. "I… I prefer intimate conversation anyway," she added coyly, deftly hopping over the pit of disappointment in her stomach, offering a consoling smile as he smiled back in relief.It would have been the truth if she hadn't spent three nights being twirled in Spike's arms. If she hadn't been expecting the same. More, even. She'd expected that electric spark between them as Riley's hand flattened at her back and his fingers closed over hers. If she had that with Spike, there should've been fireworks with Riley. There should've been soaring high notes in the music as he dipped her low.After the effort she'd put in, she felt a little owed some whirlwind romance.A little voice in her head had snarked, haven't you been fully whirled already? and she tried to shush it. Regardless of the U-turn in expectations, she would have enjoyed intimate conversation. Would've made a point to enjoy it.If there had been any intimate conversation in the first place.After two hours of polite small talk and a rather long lecture about Professor Walsh and her covert Initiative curriculum, Buffy was extremely relieved when the evening began to naturally unwind and he escorted her back to the car, feeling like she'd spent the evening only ever finishing half a sentence.She let streetlights race in yellow stripes over her as the silence stretched between them. In the silence—now that she had a moment to think, to really dwell—her mind played back over Riley's impromptu speech about giving them a shot. How insistent he'd been. How he hadn't taken "No" for an answer. How he hadn't been interested in her opinion on the matter.And she'd had good reasons for that 'no'. Super good ones. Infallible.But he'd been charming, and tall, and smart but with a hint of bashfulness, and… and…And compared to those cool blue eyes still setting her on fire, there was nothing but a flatline.That was it.The end.Her expectations had crash-landed and now they were out for the count to the point where not even tall and smart with a hint of bashful charm could revive them. This evening—the height of what should've been so much something—had been so much nothing. It should have been fun but it was just… empty.She should have felt swept off her feet.They could have at least swayed.She firmly fought against thinking about the last time her breath had caught in her throat as an enraptured gaze drank her in. About the last time her heart had beat so fast it felt like it was a hummingbird.And about the 'whom' that had caused it.…She guessed she just didn't have any more feet left to sweep.Riley's car pulled up at Revello Drive, and Buffy sighed.It was nowhere near as late as it should be.Darn well 'early' even. She could head inside, and shower, and even do part of her Psych 101 assignment before 'late' would even make an appearance. That would absolutely be the sensible thing to do.Except…Except after all the work she'd put in, she should get at least one blister for her troubles… Right? And seriously, she'd bought a dress and everything, and it hadn't even been twirled in yet…
I bet it twirls really well…
She turned, smiling tightly and somehow Riley took that as a cue to lean in. She stopped him with her hand flat on his chest. Might as well rip the bandaid off now."Um…" she started confidently and then cleared her throat as he sat back in his seat with a confused look. "Uh," she repeated. "Okay… So… We need to talk," she finished and managed not to flinch at the cliche.And after they finished talking—she decided—she'd see if she couldn't just get one twirl out of the dress before it was relegated to the back of her closet.Just one more dance. Before she put it all away.xXx"Antonio!" Camilla's wide eyes sparkled, her hair windswept from the storm buffeting the stained glass windows as heads turned in the church pews. The Count stalled halfway in his reluctant vows, a look of aching love mingled with relief breaking across his face. "Mi amor," she whispered, but her voice carried regardless. "We are meant to be together—"Spike's attention dropped from the TV roped to Giles' bathroom cabinet at the sound of the front door closing ever so gently.He waited, recognizing the slightly unsure footsteps crossing the living room. The clink of keys being picked up had his gut tensing, heart rising into his throat. He had been all but certain she wouldn't be back, all but sure last night had been his final shot and after the moment had been severed between them, that would be it. Back to barely suppressed disdain and likely a ramp-up in name-dropping of the true love of the week, whatever his name was.He'd been an emotional pendulum swinging between short-tempered bitterness and an incomprehensible ache he was refusing to recognize as anything other than lust, but it was working its way up from the pit of his stomach and settling uncomfortably in his chest.Thankfully, there'd been no witnesses to the mood swings, the only evidence of them being the multitude of cigarette butts filling Giles' Kiss The Librarian mug, his last smoke left burning down in his hand…And then there she was in the doorway, staring down at him with a strangely shy expression on her face.Spike swallowed and forced his bravado back into place."Hello, Bambi," he said, taking in a drag of his cigarette, letting his eyes drift over her form, a smile tugging at his lips. "Don't you look nice?"Buffy sucked in a cheek, holding back a smirk and ever so slightly failing."Ballroom-y?" she asked.He ground out his cigarette."Downright opulent.""Where's Giles?" she asked, taking a seat on the lip of the tub."Not here," he answered with an unconcerned shrug. "Think this is his third date this week.""Ew," Buffy muttered, and Spike chuckled."So…" He pushed down with his feet against the base of the bath to slide out of his slouch. "Throw a lot of rice, did you? Step on a lot of feet?""Nope," Buffy answered, staring at her lap. "We didn't really get to do the whole… round-and-round-in-a-ballroom part."Spike tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes."Oh?"Buffy let out a sourly amused huff and met his gaze. "Riley can't dance. We sat it out."Spike felt the clench in his throat before it raised itself to his teeth, disbelief rolling over him and out of him, encompassed by a slow breathless huff of air out of his dead lungs.She smirked as he rolled his eyes, letting them close on a low groan.He shook his head. And laughed."Bloody hell…""I know," Buffy said."What a waste," he sighed. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Should be a crime," he said, "having a pretty girl all dressed up and not taking her for a spin."She glared at the double meaning dancing around his words, but there was something underneath it. Some lingering look of curiosity that she was trying to hide."Does seem kind of wasteful," she agreed poutily. Cautiously tiptoeing into what she likely considered forbidden territory and waiting for the alarm bells to sound.Spike held her gaze. Trying to give nothing away. Trying not to notice the way his chest fluttered as though his dead heart had skipped a beat.But he was never very good at ignoring those sorts of feelings.He stretched a bit closer to her with a clink of his shackles."Well," he started, sounding so nonchalant he was sure it overshot the mark entirely. "Since your dance card's all empty and what not…?"He caught the jump of her pulse at her neck. Was sure he'd just witnessed her own heart taking a leap, even as her response was carefully neutral.She unlocked the shackles.Out in the living room she waited as he started the music on the CD player, letting the disc play on from its last stopped place. Soft guitar strumming accompanied by the low bass like a heartbeat made his skin prickle as she watched him."TheseArmsOfMine…" the track warbled. "They are lonely,Lonely and feeling blue…"Spike snapped his fingers at her."Hand."Buffy smirked and slid her palm over his."These arms of mine, they are yearning,Yearning from wanting you…"He pulled her close, and she obligingly slotted in against him.She moved with him seamlessly, following his lead perfectly, not a step out of place."And if you…"She tugged against his hand."You're dragging me around.""Would let them hold you…"There was a daring look in her eyes and Spike bit down on his tongue to stop the disbelieving chuckle bubbling out of him.
God, she'll be the death of me…
"Leading," he argued on cue as she seamlessly turned with him."Oh, how grateful I will be…"Buffy raised an unimpressed eyebrow that didn't hold a single atom of sincerity. "Dragging.""These arms of mine, they are burning,Burning from wanting you…""Gentleman always leads, luv," Spike answered, his hand flattening at her back, the shiver up her spine registering in his fingertips and echoing in his heart."Are you sure that's you, Spike?" she parried, still swaying so nicely along with him, but he couldn't help the lecherous grin overtaking his mouth. "I don't think you count," she added quietly.The goad was too much of a gift, but he didn't hesitate, the hand at her back pressing her forward until her body was flush with his."These arms of mine, they are wanting,Wanting to hold you.""Need confirmation, pet?" he retorted like he knew he was expected to, and this time her hackles didn't raise at all, no furious glower. Just a delicious look of hunger that he'd only ever seen when she'd been on the cusp of snapping his neck. And a handful of times just before he'd kissed her. "Promise you'll find me so gentlemanly.""And if you would let them hold you,Oh, how grateful I will be…"Her cheeks burned that same furious shade of cherry red, but there was no "hard pass" this time, and Spike grinned."You're blushing.""Come on, come on, baby,"Just be my…Buffy shook her head slowly, clearly hypnotized."Just be my lover, oh,I need me somebody,somebody to treat me right,I need your arms,loving arms to hold me tight..""I'm not blushing."He grinned, tilting his head affectionately as she smiled back."Still fighting it?" he whispered.She didn't reply for what felt like ages. Until the song wound to its end and the last track on the CD started."Nights in white satin,Never reaching the end…""No," she said just as quietly. "I'm not fighting it.""Letters I've written,Never meaning to send…"She fit against him perfectly, moving with him and Spike swallowed a sigh.
I'm done for…
"Beauty I'd always missed,With these eyes before…"He drew her closer. Flattened their bodies until there was no more space between them. Buffy's pupils dilated so wide he might have been able to see himself in them, shimmering emerald pools his reflection was drowning in."Just what the truth is,I can't say anymore…"He didn't hesitate. He knew the song and the words that were lining up to fill the air, and he'd rather be kissing her at that moment than looking into her eyes since she'd likely read the emotion in them clear as day.As soon as his lips were on hers, Buffy was kissing him back like she'd been starved for it all day. Like she'd been waiting for it all her life."'Cause I love you,Yes, I love you,Oh, how I love you!"She pulled him closer. Kept pulling but he was already walking her backward, her hands linking at his neck as he pushed her by the hips. Her back hit the bookcase and something cracked this time."You're so destructive," she whispered against his lips."Maybe you just bring out the best in me."She tasted so sweet, the flavor of her filling his mouth with each kiss partnered with heavy breathing and lingering little sighs that had his spine tingling. She was starting to gasp, needing air he supposed, so he dipped to her neck, grazing his lips across her jugular, and then his teeth. She didn't even flinch."Tell me again how it doesn't mean anything," he said as she leaned back and wrapped her legs around him, the hemline of her dress rising dangerously high."…Just what you want to be…You will be in the end…""It doesn't mean anything," she repeated, shivering violently as his teeth scraped the neckline of her dress off her shoulder.His hands under her thighs let her take the weight off her arms, purring into her mouth as she locked her fingers at the back of his neck."I love how bad you lie, pet.""And I love you,Yes, I love you!...xXx
Oh, how I love you!..."
Buffy moaned as her feet hooked behind Spike's hips, the evening's bland taste finally forgotten as Spike's teeth dragged her lips between his.It was an impending disaster.People could get hurt, (Riley definitely already had, if that injured look in his eyes as he'd driven away was any indication, her "no" finally accepted).But she just didn't care. Not with how insistently he kissed. Not with how firmly he pinned her against the bookcase. Not with how hard he gripped her thighs. She could feel the dig of his nails in her skin. Could feel the fever burning between them, his skin warming against hers.Besides, disasters were like her thing. Her calling. Totally her wheelhouse. She could handle a bit more. It was worth the gamble if that flame unfurling in the pit of her stomach was any judge."Oh, how I love you…"Her fingers twitched of their own accord, flush against the back of his neck, then cupping his jaw, trailing down his throat to the collar of his shirt.I want this, she thought to herself, dragging her nails across his collarbone and down the dip of his chest, causing a low growl from Spike's throat and a meaningful roll of his hips. Don't want just getting-the-job-done. Don't want bare minimum and overly gentle. Want someone who makes it feel like I'm burning—"Buffy," Spike moaned, burying his face in her neck, and suddenly the words in her head were given free rein over her mouth."I want you." Her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, trembling slightly from need. "Spike, I want you.""You have me," he answered, giving her barely enough space to breathe, barely enough space for her to think, to focus on anything but the way her hands were working their way down his front to the buckle of his belt. Her head swam. Three evenings of heated words and close contact had her shaking in his arms now, her thighs starting to tremble against his hips."I have you?" she whispered, swallowing around nothing as his lips brushed the pulse point at her neck, a nod grazing her cheek."Got right under my skin," he purred. "Know I did for you too, honey. What's the point in denying it?"He made room for her hand as she pressed down the zipper, breathing shallowly, hypnotized and kiss-drunk, while she worked her hand under the denim until hard flesh met her fingers."I'm not denying it."
Maybe I will…
Maybe I will later…
Maybe I won't.
"Nights in white satin,Never reaching the end…"Her hand wrapped around him and Spike groaned long and low, pressing himself into her, rolling his hips in time with the squeezing rhythm she instinctively started."Buffy…" His fingers kneaded deeper into her muscles in encouragement, and as the head of his cock grazed her core, across the lace Buffy had taken a gamble on beneath her dress, he let out a tight moan. She felt the glass of the bookcase at her back once more as he pressed closer, and adjusted his grip on her to tilt her hips towards him.And then she was sinking down onto him, her underwear brushed aside and her hands clinging to his shirt. His eyes snapped to hers, the breath halting in his throat for what felt like forever. Seemingly endless minutes of muscles shivering, lungs straining, the pair of them stuck in a slow-motion moment.And then Spike crashed into her, kissing her so hard it crushed her lip against her teeth, a warning jolt from his chip causing a snarl against her mouth but it didn't lessen the intensity of his kiss."Would you hate me if I told you how much I've thought of you like this?" He savaged her neck with his mouth, tongue, and teeth bringing her out in a fever. "So wet. So tight." Another kiss and his tongue swiped over her bottom lip, still stinging from his kiss. He groaned and swelled further inside her. "Little bit of blood in your mouth. Bloody hell, I could die.""Don't joke," she begged before his cock hit a spot inside her that had her keening, muscles winding to piano-wire tensions, and without warning, he did it again.She gasped, her calves tightening in a bruising grip, and he groaned as she sank her nails into his shoulders. "Always knew you'd be all claws."Buffy could have screamed, one hand in Spike's hair—fraying what little gel was keeping his locks in their helmet—the other digging her fingernails into his arm through his shirt, clinging onto sanity as Spike rocked into her.Feels so good, she thought deliriously. Don't think I'll be able to stop…"We don't have to, do we?" Spike's eyes were on her and Buffy realized she'd spoken those words out loud, her heart tripping painfully in shock and apprehension. "We could keep dancing, Slayer. Couldn't we?""Beauty I'd always missed,With these eyes before…"Buffy swallowed. There really was so much beauty in him. So much pleading, so much greed for her, and she knew her face held the same expression.She nodded frantically, and kissed him so deeply she thought she'd really faint this time, that flickering flame burning in her gut catching light as he kissed back, his hands curling underneath her, howling along with her as she broke against him."'Cause I love you," the song crooned over their panting, her arms winding tighter around him to keep him close.Maybe it was an impending disaster.Maybe people could get hurt.But right now it seemed worth the risk."Yes, I love you.Oh, how I love you…"