Title: LOVE'S SECRETS

Author: Kur <Kurhux@hotmail.com>

Disclaimer: I only own the plot. But you already know that so.

Rated: NC-17  At last!!!

Pairing: Buffy/Spike

Spoilers: Season 6

Summary: While reading and old Slayer's diary, Buffy not only finds out her
true feelings for Spike but something else.



CHAPTER 5



Pacing, fists against walls, cigarettes and choking draughts were his way of
living those days. Well, un-living. Why don't you just leave? Get the hell
out of here. Go where, exactly? Look for Dru, the burnt bitch, maybe? Or why
not big poof? Why did he always have to look for somebody, anyway? Be ALONE!

He lit a cigarette, lying on the sarcophagus now that the bed was gone,
staring blindly at the ceiling. Immortality meant loneliness? She should
have told me that and I'd have declined the offer. Effulgent my ass. Only a
dim light in a damp, sordid corridor, crowded by rats that nibbled at his
ankles. He certainly should be hired by a zoo or a circus. Come and see the
utter freak, former creature of darkness, now toothless, brainless,
worthless.

Two days had passed from that sobbing show in the street and there he was,
sometimes with a hell of a hangover, sometimes completely passed-out, others
awake as if somebody had glued his eyelids and set them open forever. He
hadn't even taken a bath. I stink, really. Wasn't it supposed to be that
way, though? You're dead, mate. Dead meat usually stinks.

Leaving was an option? Well, maybe the better one. It wasn't that he had a
profound, long, loving relationship here. Only plain, tough, rough sex no
matter how he'd tried to turn it into a mockery of love. A good ending for a
bluff, for lies. It'd been ages since he'd made love actually. Dru... she
had her own twisted ideas about it, mad as a hatter as she was. In fact,
more than a hatter. Old Daddy's teachings. He had only caught up with her.
Before that he'd experienced bliss. Mine, yours and soft, wet, smooth skin.
Greenish eyes sparkling with desire and long black hair slipping among his
fingers like shinning threads of a midnight sea. Sliding inside her had
always been a blessing. Every thrust had pushed him nearer to Heaven. Even
when they got wild, heaven had always been the final stop. Sleeping curled
up against her hot, sweated body, snug against it as a kitten looking for
its mother's warmth; that'd been Heaven as well. So close, so near, so
complete.

Buffy had never allowed him to hold her, it was as if she was afraid that
her skin would flake at his touch. Or maybe that closeness would make her
accept something about feelings. What feelings, mate? She had bloody USED
you and you're still trying to swallow that hard pill. Why don't you just
LEAVE?

After a long bath. That could only be performed at Clem's house, den,
actually. And I'm not quite in the mood to bear him now. Giles' house was
empty. He'd break into it, fill the tub and... She chained you there, she
laughed at you there. What the hell? It'd been a habit after all and right
now he needed desperately to erase her scent from his skin. I've dealt with
worse stuff in the old days. You know, blood and more blood and more and
more...





"November 30th - I've become such an indecent person! Fifteen days after
that rose, after that poem and no signs of him, which made me sulk along the
house or hide in my bedroom unable to listen to Stephen's chat. But tonight!
I don't think I'll be brave enough to write this down. I'll try though,
because I want to read it and read it till my very last day. I ran into him
at Gaunt St. and I did what all my years of training forced me to do. I
jumped at him but it was a lie, you see. A perfect excuse for what I really
wanted. A fight meant having his hands on me, feeling his touch. Rough I
know, a little bit twisted, maybe but... He's such an extraordinary fighter!
A big cat moving with infinite grace and so fast! That first night I met
him, he'd reminded me of a poem. It's Blake's, The Tiger. "Tiger, tiger,
burning bright in the forests of the night". I remembered it while I was
trying to stake him or at least threatening him to do so. He slammed me
against the wall so hard that air escaped from my lungs in a long, searing
rush. He pinned down my hands, snarling loudly, his fangs shinning brightly
under the street lamp. His face came near, blurring in front of my eyes,
till I finally felt his long teeth nuzzling the skin on my throat. And then
I whispered it, straight in his ear and I couldn't believe I'd said such a
thing. He froze against me; I really could feel his body stiffen. He looked
at me for a strange and long minute before kissing me. It was rough and wild
and bruising and even though I wouldn't have changed it for anything
sweeter. I can still feel his tongue ploughing into my mouth, his hands on
my breasts. I wanted him so badly! As I've never wanted anything else in my
life. I want him now. I know I should be punished for this and maybe I will
be. But I don't care. I don't and if he hadn't stopped (I really don't know
why, actually, but he stopped and ran away with such a fearful look in those
beautiful eyes) I would have gone till the end of it. I crave him and it'll
be that way till the day I die."

Buffy's eyes were so wide opened that she felt them stirring her face as if
she was slowly turning into stone. What did you whisper to him? What?  The
pages ran into her cold fingers as windmills. Words blurred and waved,
happy, happy, happy, proposed, love, married? MARRIED! A married Slayer?
MARRIED TO A VAMPIRE! How unthinkable, unbelievable, outrageous was that?
And happiness! She'd been HAPPY! HE had made her happy! Her fingers reached
the chain in her neck, her eyes staring at the gold ring hanging from it. A
wedding ring.

Why the fuck did Giles give me this? He knew! What does he want? Do I fit
somewhere? Why everybody can be touched by happiness? Because they dare to
jump at it. Because they dare to jump into it. Because they just allowed
themselves to FEEL. She put on her clothes, rushed downstairs and flew along
the streets, without even noticing she was holding the book against her
chest as a shield made of paper and words. All she had in mind was shouting
at Giles' face till she went completely mute.

The place was as silent as a graveyard. Facing the door she tried to control
her breath and she burst into hysterical laughter. Can I get more stupid
here? Giles is gone! Can't you remember a fucking thing these days? So
what's that light? Burglars, sent to her so she'd be released from that
twisting ache in her guts.

The door was opened. Nobody seemed to be around. Nothing out of place; only
the dim light of the lamp next to the couch. Buffy left the book on the
table and went upstairs, sneaking as if she had become one of the shadows of
the house. There's nobody here, either. A slight sound came from the living
room and she ran downstairs only to become a marble statue at the view.
Spike was standing beside the table, barefoot and shirtless, his unbuckled
and unzipped black jeans barely hanging round his hips. One of his hands was
on the lid of the book and he was so hypnotised by the sight of it that he
didn't pay attention to the footsteps coming down the stairs. Buffy took
notice of the drops that shed from his wet, mussed hair. They were like
black tears in the half-lit room. Finally he raised his eyes. Confusion and
suffering mixed with a gigantic quantity of surprise.

_ Where..., - he spoke so softly that it seemed he was blowing or maybe
taking small breaths, - where..., how..., Giles got...this?

Buffy didn't want to reply. A terrible and shocking sensation beat at every
muscle in her body and it had nothing to do with running thirty blocks as a
hurricane.

_You've had a bath, - it was the silliest thing she'd ever said in her life
but it worked, as she released her throat from words just to make more room
for air. She never knew how he managed to smell so good all the time when
all the vamps she killed smelt like trash and rotten rats. It had always
wondered her, that thing. His scent, powerful and manly, enough to disturb
her in so many ways. Disturbed as she was now at the mere sight of him
standing there, quiet and almost a marble statue. Motionless. He looked so
harmless, wet and...innocent.

_I've got no shower at my place.

Wasn't that stupid? Standing half-naked in front of her very eyes, listening
to every nerve in her body crackling like logs in a fireplace and yet,
unable to make a move. He's terrified of even trembling. His eyes forgot the
book and followed the patterns of light and shadow on her face, on her coat,
that yellow one she was wearing that night... The night she left you. Her
heavy breathing was a rasping sound that cut his flesh into pieces but it
was still a blessing. Silence would have been oppressive as the walls of a
damp dungeon. Her hands moved and clenched on some chain that hanged from
her neck. Her little hands, so wise, so warm... I want you. I want you so
much! If only..., if only we could do it all over again, would you give me a
chance? Words, things she'd said to him rattled in his brain. "Like you're
God's gift". Yes, of course, but the question was; how many times do you get
a God's gift? Twice? He looked down at his shaking hands and bit his lower
lip, feeling dry and empty as never before. Empty of words, which was a
landmark in his entire existence.

Buffy's eyes went from the book to his face and then to his hands. The
silence was so complete and overwhelming that she just wanted to scream. He
looked beaten to his knees; no Spike's old spirit flowing around. Was it too
late then? He'd given up and she was too weak to bring him back to her.
"You'd be surprised, believe me". Oh, God, help me here.

Her eyes went once more to his fingers, his clever long fingers, sailed
across his flat, taut stomach and reached his mouth. She took a step forward
and froze when he raised his head vigorously.

_ You don't need to get narky, you know? I was just... I'm leaving, - he'd
made his mind up just in that moment. He couldn't bear one more minute near
her warm body, near her scent.

It was all around him; everywhere he went he could smell it no matter how
he'd tried not to. She seemed to float along the whole city so leaving had
become an option after all.

_ No, - she gasped or maybe groaned as tears filled her eyes and he became
only a pale and shapeless figure beside the table. The ring she was holding
burnt her palm like a scorching poker. Please, give me a chance. Teach me
how to love, how to be brave. Suddenly something in the depths of his blue
eyes made her realise the true meaning of his words. Leaving..., leaving
town, leaving her. Giving up, too tired to keep on trying, too tired of
trying to melt down a heart that was made of solid stone. A harsh laughter
was bubbling in her tongue like buzzing bees. Him, leaving her! HIM! She
certainly had fallen into another dimension. What had he said once? "Love is
blood screaming inside you..." The voices in her head were yelling so loud
that she wondered how in hell he wasn't able to hear them. So I love him? I
love him. He's going to leave me and I've just sussed it out NOW? How much
more of a jerk can I be? She took another step this time blocking his
run-away to the bathroom. I'm sorry, Big Bad, but you're SO mistaken!

_ You're not leaving me. You are not, - she spelled the words out like
lashes. Her hands reached his chest and followed him backwards till he hit
the wall. He stood there staring at her, his arms along his body, immobile
and static, scared of allowing himself a slight thread of hope. Please, be
gentle. Please, don't make me stop you. Not again. Her fingers were now
tracing his sharp cheekbones, his lips, his eyelids, as if she'd turned into
a blind woman trying to figure out his identity. Her mouth was so near, soft
and wet and hot but he couldn't move even after her tongue forced his mouth
open and plunged into it. His whole body stiffened and he wasn't able to do
anything but to expect some sort of tough, fighting movement. Her tongue,
moving inside his mouth, was tender and caressing as if she were discovering
him for the first moment. He dared to touch it with his own, slowly at
first, then stroking passionately but still unable to raise his arms,
waiting for a sign that it was not just a dream, a phase that would turn
into a nightmare if he permitted himself to believe it.

Her sweating palms were on his chest again and then they were on his back,
on his sides, trailing his ribs like the keys of a mute piano. What was
going on there? He'd always been so active, full of energy and mischievous
looks and smirks and replies and now he was acting like a shy kid or...
Maybe he didn't want her anymore. She broke the kiss for a while. His silver
skin, pale and smooth as silk, gleamed with trails of gold under the lamp.
His eyes were dark and she couldn't read them as the shadows cast a veil on
them.

Spike swallowed hard. He did see the unspoken fears in her face. How could
she think he didn't want her? He craved her. With a deep moan he finally
raised his arms, grabbing the lapels of her coat, pulling her to his body.
His kiss was so tender, his tongue licking her lips, his blunt teeth biting
them softly. He tasted her in every way possible and Buffy couldn't help the
tears that watered her eyes. She fought them back, pressing her body against
his cold stomach, feeling his undeniable erection. Oh, my God, and I thought
I could be away from him? How could I? No matter now, just feel, feel, allow
yourself to be alive. Her hands left the hollow of his back, cupping his
well-shaped ass, pushing him closely as she rubbed against him in urgent
motions, smiling when he groaned inside her mouth and thrust her stomach
even harder. Well, finally you're awake, my Big Bad? Better help me get rid
of the clothes, then. Perhaps she'd whispered it loud 'cause the next thing
she was aware of was him pulling off her coat in a hard, unsteady way. One
of his hands ran under her blouse, looking for her breasts. His fingers
fastened on her nipple, twisting it, caressing it, teasing it.

She couldn't but break the kiss again only to take a long breath before
diving in his chest, biting his nipples in reply. A heavy growl made his
entire body quiver as her hands abandoned his ass just to travel to his
cock, running down it with deliberate slowness.

_ So you're going to kill me after all, - he managed to say between long
unneeded gasps before she captured his mouth once more, this time with an
urgent and demanding desire. Her whole soul was shouting for him to take her
just there, even in full clothes.

But he wasn't going to do that. Oh no, love. Torture her a little here, as a
reward for all those long nights you've made me feel like a beaten dog
looking for some shelter from a ravaging storm. How long are you planning to
stretch this out, mate? You'll explode in her hands. Oh, my God. Weren't you
torturing her? She was devouring him now. "Spike devour me!" But that was
another time, another thing. Obscene, she had said. Not real, she had said.
She was real now, so real, knelt, as she was, a fervid experience he'd never
expected, not from her. A kneeling warrior, full of strength and power,
pushing him to the verge of a swirling cliff. His head hit the wall and his
hands tried to seize her but she was as elusive as a dream.

Buffy felt him flapping under her touch, under the scratches her nails were
tracing on his muscled thighs, on his calves, on his firm ass. She'd have
been grinning as a madman if she hadn't been so busy driving him crazy. This
was her way to show him how much she'd missed him, a way to claim him; her
battle against any defences he could still be holding. His muffled voice
told her about her victory, the quivering of his entire body offered a
surrendering flag. Feminine power. Mine, all mine and you'll never be able
to deny it. I own you, I can make you do what I want. Not to use you, never
again, she promised him with no words, just a huge self-proud smile and wide
green eyes.

_You're still alive..., - it wasn't a question but a mischievous statement.
She giggled briefly when he finally moved, nearly ripping her blouse off.
There was a clattering sound as the buttons hit the floor along with the
chain and its locket and its wedding ring, tickling at her thoughts only for
a brief moment before she let them go as he unfastened her leather pants,
his tongue licking and biting her nipples ravishingly. One now, then the
other as if he couldn't decide, his hands taking off the rest of her
clothes, lifting her from the floor, walking towards the couch.

They never had a real bed. But this was better as Giles' bed would raise shy
and awkward feelings she didn't want to experiment with right now. Not to
mention painful memories of a murder... Brush that off, she obligated
herself as he sat on the couch holding her tightly on his lap, never
releasing her breasts, her wet, wisely caressed breasts. Her fingers twisted
in his hair, pulling him to her and then they sailed on his chest, on his
knees, his powerful and strong thighs. Spike shifted their bodies, placing
her on the velvet surface, never leaving his feverish journey along her
neck, her arms, her shoulders. I wish I could have three, four hands to
touch you everywhere at the same time; five mouths to worship you as you
deserve. Never enough, nothing enough. I love you and even that is not
enough.

Buffy's body arched and trembled beneath his hands. "You're beneath me" Now,
I am and there's no other place I'd like to be. He was seductive and gentle
and she could feel both of his halves, human and demon, adoring her with
mouth and tongue, with long fingers and faded whispers. Her nails ran down
the perfection of his back, on the sharp shoulder blades, like those of a
tiger when it walked across the jungle in that elastic and graceful way.
"Tiger, tiger, burning bright..." The poem sprang to her mind and she
couldn't help a silly smile. Wasn't she right, that former naughty Slayer
she'd probably inherited all those feelings from? I crave him, she'd written
down. Buffy hugged Spike with such strength that he couldn't help a choking
groan. Before the night is over, you will not only groan but also scream.
And maybe shout. Now, just now, tell me you love me, tell me, please. The
heels of her feet caressed his calves in long, rhythmical movements. He was
so soft and cold and pale as a moon landscape, her own personal moonlight
glittering on the waves of her blood.

How was that song? Spike's mind wandered incoherently. "In the night...love
can grow" Damned it if this wasn't love. Her touch was so different from
that she'd used every night at his crypt! And if it isn't, well, I'm not
going to think about it. Let me believe it for one night, for only one
bloody night. He kissed her deeply, filling her mouth with words and gasps
while his hands trailed along her trembling stomach, her navel, pushing
further the dam of her emotions.

Buffy cried when he released her mouth to follow the path of his hands. His
fingers slipped between her legs and she could only spread them wider,
closing her eyes firmly when they traced her as he only knew, hard and
gentle, replaced then by his wise tongue, his cold long tongue reaching
places that made her feel that she was in a free-fall of eternal pleasure.
Her nails gripping his shoulders were hot sizzling needles. Why in hell had
she rejected this bliss? He knew her by heart; he had always known her, not
only in a physical way but also in her mind, always one step ahead. She felt
fragile as porcelain in his hands and as awesome as it sounded, that didn't
scare her. "Do you trust me?" Oh, yeah, I do. You'd never hurt me, not you.
Porcelain; she cried and bent her spine when the rush of the orgasm
shattered her nerves. She was nothing but slivers of porcelain, shinning
china on a green velvet surface.

Spike raised his head and his eyes glared at her face. Her eyes were shut
and there was a smile in her lips that had nothing to do with the orgasm.
She's glowing with a secret ecstasy. Wonder what's in that head of yours,
love.

_ Come here, - her whisper was low and hypnotic as the hot flames of a
firestorm. Her legs bent around him while he slowly crawled on her body. Oh,
Big Cat, sensual and dangerous and...mine. All mine, her mind chanted while
she arched vehemently to let him slip inside her. Slowly, moving with
unbearable waviness, shuddering and moaning. I love you, I love you. You're
so warm and I'm made of wax. Old and tired wax for you to mould at your
entire will.

Buffy's legs were an iron grip above his hips as if she was afraid he'd melt
in the thin air like a ghost. She's going to burst into millions of burning
stars that would float across the universe as a sign of her bliss. Her mouth
assaulted his, bit his low, erotic lip with possessive intensity.
Butterflies were teasing her veins, running wild along her flanks, pushing
her to a brink with each powerful thrust.

_ Moonlight on a raging sea, - she murmured without even noticing, looking
at the blue, flickering surprise in his amused eyes. That smirk, oh, how I
missed you. Her hands grabbed his face, pulling him to her mouth in a
bruising kiss that softened the moans of pleasure and delight. _ I love you.

The words slipped from her when the spasms of orgasm made them both cry and
arch and hold each other with a sturdy grip. Complete, I feel complete. And
warm and cared. Is this heaven? It's so alike... Who would have known that
in the middle of hell you could find such a blessing spot of heaven? I love
you, she'd said. She had and it didn't burn a hole in her guts; she didn't
want to take it back. It's so strange not to hear him saying that. He hadn't
said it and she opened her eyes just a bit to spy on him. His face was
buried between her breasts, his cold breath sweeping up the drops of sweat
that slid on her skin like salty tears. Or..., she gently made him raise his
head. His beautiful eyes glowed with a washed shade of blue. His tears told
her more than anything his words could ever express. Buffy kissed his
eyelids, his long dark eyelashes. Wet and cold as the rain at night, his
tears. "I've seen him crying" A soulless creature crying for me. How odd was
that? She couldn't help thinking about another creature as soulless as that
who was hugging her. She grimaced and fidgeted at the uncomfortable memory.
So out of place, such a traitorous thought. Don't think about the past.
Leave it behind. You, you don't cry for me anymore. I'm here, with you and
I'm damned if I will ever let you go. I'll never leave you again.

_ So, I guess you'll take another bath?

_ If you let me chain you in the tub this time, - he teased eluding the
desperate voice within his throat trying to ask what he didn't want to ask
in that moment. We've time, mate. She's here and she's going to stay. He's
completely sure about that fact. She wasn't that coward. Maybe a little, he
admitted but not after what she'd said. She'd stand for it. Perhaps with
arms crossed over those delicious breasts of hers, fully naked, while she
performed a charade of blind fury. Well, ok, that's a fantasy. How many
times had he fantasized about that?

_ I think you already had your revenge at that, - one of her nails was
sketching the length of his spine. Spike shivered and pulled up to look at
her with a playful smile.

_ Well, then, let's have this bath together. We can chain to each other and
then to the taps. You know...

_ Evil, - she tried to sound harsh and offended. She even frowned but failed
utterly. A wide smile curved her lips and she couldn't but giggle loudly
when he lifted her in his arms, walking towards the bathroom. For a brief
moment she almost believed he had chains hidden somewhere. But, of course,
and to her shocking disappointment there weren't any. Only a glittering
spark of a necklace on the basin. Hot water was running fast while her
fingers picked up the small chain. It looked familiar. Painfully familiar.
The other part..., the other part had hanged from her neck till it had
fallen to the floor an hour ago. Maybe it's Giles'. Maybe he'd found it
somewhere, in a smaller box he didn't remember. Tell me it's not what I'm
thinking it is. Tell me I'm wrong. "Tiger, tiger..." The world couldn't be
upside down from one second to the other. Their gazes locked upon the
swinging and silvery gleams of the locket.

_ Do you like it, love? It's yours then.

Spike couldn't believe his ears. He'd actually given her his most precious
treasure? The only and last link of his memories? Let her go. It's time now.

_ Mine?

He sounded so innocent. He didn't know she knew! How could he? That muddled
look in his eyes at the sight of the journal. Oh, my God! HER HUSBAND..., IT
WAS YOU! She cupped her mouth with a trembling hand while her stomach
fluttered and entangled with millions of hot wires. A Slayer, his wife.
Where does that place me? Am I a replacement? Some sort of twisted and sick
copy of that other Slayer of his? Yeah, he'd killed two of her kind. He'd
tried hard to make his body count rise to the amount of three. "I'll kill
you on Saturday" Dizziness threatened to send her body to the tiled floor.
Her hand reached out for some support.

_ What? What's going on? - his voice was distant and frightened. She found
herself sitting on the couch again and as much as she tried to get out of
there his grip on her waist was an anchor. Escape, that was all she had in
mind. The velvet seat was a searing reminder of the bliss she'd experienced
there. A painful reminder of her words. I love you. Why hadn't he laughed or
growled with a cry of victory? Another Slayer falling at my feet, either to
kill her or... But he'd cried; she'd seen his tears.

_ Love, please..., talk to me. You look peaky and you're so cold. Let me...

He raised from the couch, his eyes never leaving her pale figure, and picked
up the yellow coat. His eyes were pulled to the ground as the locket fell to
it again with a strange and clattering sound.  Spike's trembling fingers
picked it up slowly. The swinging chain hypnotised him dreadfully as if it
had become the rope of a gallows pole. He could almost feel it strangling
him, choking him in a slow agony. The book; it wasn't Giles'. She..., she
had read it? My God, even I never took a peek at it. I never dared. All her
secrets, all he'd respected... Respected enough to bury it with her when
she... A sudden revelation struck his forehead like a blow from a giant.
Horrified he didn't notice the profound growl that was escaping from his
lips, sorrowful, a shattering grief digging at the very core of his undead
being. They had profaned the only thing he'd kept as sacred in his mind. For
Christ's sake, what for? WHAT FOR?

_ Where the fucking hell did you get this? - this rage, this forgotten rage,
that I won't be able to control... _ TELL MEEEEEEE!

Her green eyes were so opened, so shocked, that they seemed to be the only
feature in her face. Her lips moved but no sound escaped from them, only
desperate gasps. He looked like a God of vengeance; a demon made of clenched
fists and flaring golden eyes. Buffy sank deeply into the couch at his
sight. He wasn't only furious; his fangs flashed under the lamp and a thin
thread of spit seeped from his opened mouth. It terrified her. The sight of
primal rage. A walking chaos, a seething one. Talk before he kills you. Just
say it, please.

_ Giles... gave it to me. He..., he..., the Council found it..., found it in
a... - "STOP STUTTERING!" - in a basement.

The gold of his eyes nearly set the whole place on fire. He roared and
laughed with an outrageous, tuneless noise. _In a basement? He told you...
Oh, my God!

Buffy couldn't believe her eyes. One moment he was the image of wrath, then
a convulsive figure of pain and grief. Knelt on the floor, naked and crying
his eyes out, in such a state that she oscillated between sorrow and fear.
Up and down, up and down; my life is a never-ending ride on a seesaw.
Finally, her arms surrounded his body, quivering under the complete
vibration of his muscles. Empathy; again. Sobs escaped from her own cold
lips while she tried frantically to get what he was muttering. Cemetery...,
grave. No, please, I'm not listening to this. Giles, how could you?

At last, she managed to place him on the couch, wrapping his bent shoulders
with her own coat. It was small and looked on him like a doll's cloak.

_ ...and I buried her with that box. I put everything in there and buried it
with her, - Spike repeated in such a soft voice that it seemed to be coming
from upstairs. _ 'Cause it was our secret, nobody would have ever begun to
understand. Nobody would have ever accepted that... I never read it. It's
tempting but I never read it. 'Cause she wouldn't have liked it and I
thought that if I did it..., if I did it... It'd be like raping her, you
know? Violate her and..., - his voice broke down.

_ Shh, shh, - the only sound that slipped from her mouth was that constant
soothing whispering. So many questions she had! Searing questions that
burned at the doors of her chest, nearly scalding the hands that, crashed at
their surface, struggled to keep them shut.

_ I..., I'm sorry for..., I thought... You know, - his eyes were wet and
wide as those of a missing child looking for his mother. "As an orphan..."
So lost, so lonely, full of shame and a desperate plea for forgiveness; it
wrung her heart wretchedly. Her lips kissed his eyelids, as ethereal as
imaginary dragonflies, then followed the bridge of his nose till they
finally found his mouth. Please don't reject me. Let me take care of you.
Let me console you, erase this sadness from both our hearts.

Spike's hands clung to her waist. He's falling into that old grave he'd long
ago climbed out from. There'd been a voice in the night, after all. His
voice, calling, shouting for somebody to save him. Some consolation. Tons of
it you need, mate. Drown yourself in her. Let her kiss you, taste you, show
you that everything is not lost. Let her be your safety net, tonight at
least. As he'd been for her when she hated herself enough to be screwed by a
fiend. Him. What am I now? How can she love me now? It can't be...

He broke away from her; his lips were such a thin line that they had almost
disappeared from his face. He was about to ask, to put into spoken words the
emotional whirlpool spinning wildly in his heart. She pulled him in with a
soft tone.

_ Do you love her? Do you still love her? - so many unspoken doubts danced
in that small or maybe huge question. Doubts and an appalling terror to
listen to him saying...

_ No, - was that her restrained breath escaping like a leak of hot water
from a pipe or was it his? A fag, I need a fag before I break my fingers
like frozen sticks. Back again on the couch, sitting on the edge of it, he
finally lit the cigarette with shaky hands. _ It's so long ago. I know what
you're thinking here, - his gaze was dark and cloudy, - but you're wrong.
That night..., that night she died, I swore I'd never fall in love again.
Who could have told me I'd failed in that as well? I love you, Buffy, and
it's nothing to do with the Slayer thing. Or maybe it has. How could I love
you if I didn't love that part of you either?

_What about Dru then? - she forced the name out. It felt bitter and foul as
an old brew.

He shivered and shrugged his shoulders. _ I loved her. In such a different
way! With her..., I was only one thing. With her..., I didn't betray what I
really was. She saved me..., twice. She took me beyond everything, taught me
everything. And I learned, and I was safe. Safe enough not to fall again,
safe enough to...

_ To kill Slayers..., - she stopped abruptly and the silence stretched
between them only to be broken by the distant sound of a howling siren, a
bark. Then nothing.

He was staring at the dead body feeling dizzy and empty. That Chinese girl
who had the guts to use THE TITLE! If I kneel beside her now, if I look into
those dead eyes, really look into them, would I find you? Your lineage, your
memories... Has she really got your memories? Is there anything of you in
there? I don't feel a thing. I DON'T! Why on earth  don't I? "Naughty,
wicked Spike". You don't know how much! You will never know how much! Come
here, have a taste, have a taste ´cause this is aphrodisiac and I really
know what I'm talking about. Have a taste of this evil and empty creature
that is roaring inside of me, choking me with a rough and delighted
laughter. Laugh at my lost heaven and welcome to the game. The true game and
you've lost, missy. And I don't give a damn. You see how we're shagging just
in front of those dead eyes of yours and I'm laughing, laughing, laughing...
and bleeding, bleeding, bleeding...

Spike's bleached head nodded ten times before he'd speak again. _ Maybe. All
I was at that time compelled me to. I had left my family to pursue a dream
that ended in a bloodshed nightmare. Alex's blood, - had he really named
her? Had he really pronounced her name aloud? - I don't..., you don't want
to know, - he grimaced and twisted at the memory, - but when I found her...,
my first thought was that it was a massive punishment for having forgotten
our true natures, - he crashed the butt on the table. _I travelled across
Europe and you don't want to know what I did, 'cause the pain never receded,
you see. It's always there like the blood, her blood, that covered me
entirely, - he lit another cigarette, his eyes locked on his feet, - Of
course, that wasn't true. Only a delusion I couldn't get rid of even after
buckets and buckets of soap water. I had betrayed my nature and the only
bloody way I'd get rid of that was... So, yeah, I killed them, wasn't that
the true game after all? Slayer, vampire, they fight, one dies. And then,
there was you. And I lost my way again. Another punishment? When you died...
Oh, my God, when you died!

Buffy forced herself to come out from that sort of refuge the corner of the
couch had turned into, just to place a hand on the nape of his long neck. He
seemed to be so far away. She felt as if she were walking on her tiptoes
along a sharp ridge. _ You're not only one thing. You're not only a demon, -
she stated intensely. She'd figured it out, how long ago? Always. Yet, she'd
had to read that book to finally accept it. Must I feel jealous or thankful
here? I'll decide it another day, now there's something I really want to
know.  _What did she say to you? What did she whisper to you that night?

Spike shook his head, confused and extremely tired. The lump in his throat
and belly had developed into a mass of metal spiders, scratching at his guts
with prickling claws.

_ She found you in the street and you had a fight. And then she whispered
something in your ear and you kissed her, - she explained hastily, a little
bit ashamed of herself. Curiosity killed the cat, you know? But a glad
memory wouldn't be bad. It seemed so 'cause the corner of his mouth trembled
a little before he allowed himself a steady smile.

_ I was going to bite her. Well, not really. It's all a bluff or... Anyway,
she... - he stopped sharply and his smile changed to one of those lovely
smirks of his. Buffy's heart skipped a beat, - You're a naughty girl, you
know? Ok, ok, you don't need to hit me so bloody hard. I don't remember the
exact words... Ok! - he laughed now. Two more lost heartbeats, - "If feeling
you inside me means that I've got to be bitten, well, just do it then." Too
much for a Victorian girl...

Buffy giggled and his eyes stared at her in wonderment. Wasn't she the image
of beauty? Cheeks all flushed and lips lifted in a half smile that made her
whole face glow. Even her green eyes were gleaming with insolent sparks and
her breasts, oh, her breasts. The way they move, slowly, up and down,
mesmerising movements of tiny waves, calling him, bewitching him as the
songs of mermaids do. His fingertips ached with the urgent desire to be
touching her. He was about to move when she took his face between her hands.
_ This is weird. I mean, you and me. But somehow... I came here to kill
Giles or maybe to make a good scene. 'Cause it scared me, you know. Well,
not scared me. Enlightened me, the reading... It seemed that everything in
that book was happening to me. I know that maybe you don't want to hear
this, but... she made me understand. I wanted you to know that, -she
whispered before kissing him softly. Kisses like footsteps of a fairy, small
and sparkling with golden drops of nectar. Fingers like the wings of the
fairy, tickling lightly, causing his muscles to tremor under their flapping
touch.

He sighed, a long and deep sigh that expressed more than simple words. All
his heart was in that sigh, all the love he felt, everything she meant to
him. Forgive me; forgive this rage I can't control sometimes. This's what I
am, who I am. She was pushing him down gently, her palms opened on his
shoulders, without leaving his mouth, his eyes, his cheekbones.

This was so much better, being able to touch him, to taste him, without
having to handcuff him. "Do you trust me?" How could you trust me? Never
scared of me staking him in the heat of the moment. I tied him up and yet...
Don't think about that now. Enjoy..., enjoy..., enjoy his perfection, this
chest, this stomach, this love. Yours and his.

Buffy's sleek hair caressed the shaking muscles of his stomach like
thousands of little feelers. Oh, it tickles, in a good way. He couldn't but
smile at the memory; his eyes still closed. Her fingertips groped his
flanks, delineated his ribs, his hips while her tongue danced along the
muscles of his abs, sank on his navel, delineated the sensitive skin of his
groin.

_ Oh, yes, love, - he'd become a fountain of sighs. Drowning in a melting
and falling sensation. To belong. And that idiotic, rapturous purr vibrating
in his chest... I'm a total poof and guess what? I don't bloody care.

Buffy's mouth switched directions and then she was playing with his fingers,
biting and licking the tips of each one. He protested for a brief moment.
She sucked all of them with a sensual and provocative slowness. _ Stay still
or I'll go home, - she threatened as she followed the lines of his veins,
the upper arms, his stretched neck, the soft and delicious earlobe. His
mouth; she loved his mouth; clever and dangerous, smooth and wet and hers to
play all night long with those lips. Her legs straddled him and suddenly she
just stopped, staring at him with dark eyes. _ Promise me something.

_ Anything, pet. I won't fail this time. I mean...

_ I know. Promise that if that chip of yours stops working someday and
something happens to me, you'll never, ever, turn into such a monster.

He pulled up and kissed her roughly. _ Nothing will happen to you, love.
Nothing.

_ But if...

_ If ..., I'll be no monster but a pile of dust, so you don't need to worry.
Do you really think I'll stay in this bloody world again if...

Bruising kisses weren't what she had had in mind. But she couldn't help it.
This love she felt, it burned and consumed her blood, her mind, her very
soul. Blood screaming inside you.... Us.

I knew you were going to shout my Big Bad, my Big Cat, my love.





Fin