Title: Pushing an Elephant Up the Stairs
 

Rating: This chapter is PC-13 for language.

Spoilers: Set after 7.14 First Date.

Response to the following challenge: Set anytime during season seven: Spike is back from Africa with the soul that he fought for and won. Make him lose the soul, however you choose: noble sacrifice, random quirk of fate, trick, whatever. Soulless Spike is back. What happens now? How will this effect his relationships with the Scoobies and with Buffy? The fic should be pro-soulless redemption, although it doesn't necessarily have to have a happy ending. Any ship you choose, any length, any rating.

Distribution: Let me know.

Review please.
 

Chapter 13 ...That I Believed
 

Buffy didn't follow Spike out of the house. She watched him go, confused, uncertain, and angry. What was his problem? She understood that he hated Angel, but he of all people should understand....

"You should go after him," Giles said gently.

Buffy spun around. "What?"

"Buffy, he's angry. And he's completely without restraint. There's not telling what he could do."

"He won't do anything."

"How can you be certain?"

He of all people should understand the importance of a soul.

"I can't," she whispered. "But I can't go after him."

"He's still triggered, Buffy, and..."

Buffy looked up at her watcher, her eyes shining with emotion. "Giles, I don't know what to do. I'm torn."

He frowned and waited for her to continue. She was silent for several minutes, her eyes trained on the back yard, as though she expected him to return any second. "I told him we couldn't kill Angel because the soul makes a difference."

"It does, Buffy."

She shook her head. "That's what I told him last year too."

"Buffy, I..."

"I'm going to check on Angel."

When she returned to the basement, she noticed Willow and Kennedy studying Angel closely. "Is he ok?"

Willow jumped and turned around. "Yeah, we think he's fine. He's already healing. How's Spike?"

"He ran away."

"And you didn't go after him?" Both women asked in unison.

"I can't chase after him every time he runs off," Buffy said quietly. "As he is so fond of pointing out, I'm not his keeper."

"I don't know Buffy, I mean, you didn't see his face when he..."

"Bolted," Kenned provided. "He looked pretty bad."

"Buffy, if you want to go, we can keep an eye on Angel," Willow said gently.

"And what am I supposed to say if I chase after him?" What if I don't catch him? What if I have to watch him leave again? What if he doesn't want to hear what I have to say? What if I finally pushed him away for good?

"Apologize? I'm not surprised he's hurt, Buffy. When you were taking care of Angel, you looked pretty..."

"Pretty what?" Buffy demanded.

"In love," Kennedy said bluntly.

"What? But I'm not! I'm not in love with Angel!" Buffy exclaimed. "Why would he think that?"

"Maybe you should ask him."

"Buffy?" Angel croaked. "Buffy? What am I doing here?"

Buffy hurried over to his side. "Hey, you. How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache. Buffy, did Angelus....?"

"We stopped you in time." Both of them noticed that Buffy did not refer to Angelus as a separate person.

"Why am I here?"

"To kill me. You know, the usual."

"I see," Angel said slowly. "Do you know why?"

She shrugged, "For fun?"

"What did you to do to my head?"

"I didn't do anything. Spike bashed your heads a few time. Wanted to make sure you didn't wake up."

"Spike?" Angel squinted, trying to remember if he remembered Spike. "Why were you with Spike?" His face cleared. "Hey, wait a minute. Why were you kissing Spike?"

Buffy licked her lips nervously and glanced at Kennedy and Willow. Neither seemed particularly surprised by the revelation. "Can we have some privacy?"

"Sure, no problem." Willow grabbed Kennedy's arm and dragged her up the stairs.

"Angel..."

"Are you with Spike?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Do you love him?"

"I do."

"What? Buffy, how? He doesn't have a soul."

And suddenly, Buffy wanted to scream. She wanted to yell and shout and throw things against the wall and find Spike and run away and never, ever say that word again. Instead she said simply, "He did. It's gone now."

"Like my curse?"

"No," Buffy spat. "Not a curse. He earned it, and it was stolen from him."

"Maybe it's the head trauma, but I'm confused."

"Yeah, well, join the club."

~*~

Once Spike escaped the house, he didn't know what to do with himself. He had nowhere to go. He forced himself to calm down, to try to look at the situation rationally and objectively, but the pain kept clouding his judgment.

The facts were pretty straight forward, in his opinion. How could she hold him and love him so gently one night, and then look at Angel with such...devotion...the next night? How he could she tell him that the soul mattered? That it made you good? What was he supposed to think?

Spike knew he had to go back. He was helping Buffy with the slayerettes. The First still had "plans" for him. He had promised to stay and help her fight, and regardless of what happened, he meant it. He wouldn't abandon her to fight this thing by herself. Not if he could help in any way.

But he couldn't go back right away. Not until Angel had left, at least. That thought brought him up short. What if Angel decided to stay and help fight? Then Buffy wouldn't need him anymore. She may even want him to leave.

But she loves you!

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Angel would always be the first one in her heart, and if he wanted to be with her, he would just have to learn to deal with that. But it shouldn't be that way. Spike knew that he could never accept that, not really.

Spike spent the rest of the night working through his aggression. He hit nests of sleeping demons, he patrolled dark allies looking for vampires, and he even picked fights at the Alibi Room. Every face he pummeled, every bone he snapped, every neck he broke, every heart he staked, belonged to Angel.

"Hey, hey Spike," Willy said after Spike cleaned the joint out. "No one will come here anymore if you keep killing my customers."

"Shut up Willy."

"Well, sure thing Spike. I didn't mean to make you mad, I was just saying..."

"Give me the usual."

"Spike, your tab is kinda high."

Spike grabbed Willy's shirt and pulled him halfway across the bar. "Give. Me. My. Drink."

"Right, right. No problem."

Willy scurried behind the bar like a rat, giving Spike the full bottle of alcohol, not even bothering with a shot glass. Spike accepted it without comment, but he set it down on the bar, not touching it. He lost interest in the drink, and slammed out of the bar, leaving broken tables and demon corpses in his wake.

Spike was forced to return to Buffy's house when he realized that it was nearly dawn, and he had no where to hide for the day. He supposed there was a chance that she didn't want him there anymore. She may have even gone so far as to make Willow do the uninvited spell. But that was a chance he simply had to take, if he didn't want to be baked to a crisp.

Mindful of the sleeping bodies littering the house, he didn't slam the kitchen door when he entered. He could hear Buffy and Angel downstairs, their voices low and muffled. He swallowed hard, and placed his ear against the door, straining to catch every word.

"Angel, I know you want to stay, but they need you in LA."

"I think you need me here more."

"No, Angel, I don't need you here at all. I don't need you anymore."

"Why? Because you have Spike?"

"Yes, because I have Spike. I love him, Angel."

Spike backed away from the door, his legs suddenly rubbery. He decided he would wait for her upstairs in the bedroom—their bedroom. If nothing else, they needed to get some sleep after the events of the night.

He had just stripped his clothes off and stretched out on the bed when she opened the door.

"Oh, you came back."

"Yeah. You didn't think I would?"

"I didn't know," she admitted.

"I had some things to work out."

"I'm glad you came back, Spike."

He patted the bed next to him, and she lay down without removing her clothes. She smelt like Angel, but he didn't say anything.

"You're good without one."

"Hmmm?"

"The soul. You're good without the soul. But Angel...Angel is different."

"I'm sorry I ran out."

She shook her head. "No, I'm glad you did. It made me think about stuff. But I was worried..."

"Buffy, I wouldn't leave you to fight the First and train the girls by yourself. No matter what. And I'll never stop loving you."

"Did you get hurt tonight?"

"No, but we're both filthy. Let's go shower."

Buffy considered it. "It'll save hot water for the rest of them if we shower together."

Spike nodded, "Time too. We can be done before anybody else wakes up. Plus, I'll be able to get that hard to reach spot on your back."

Buffy stood up and undressed, slowly removing her soiled clothes, than shyly covered herself with her arms. "Catch me if you can."

Spike jumped up quickly, his dick already hard. He grabbed her from behind, and buried his face in her neck, nibbling gently on the skin. "Got you."

"Whatcha gonna do with me?"

He chuckled lightly, "Wash your back."

They stumbled into the bathroom, trying to turn on the water as they kissed, their hands blindly seeking the water faucet. Finally, they both stepped into the tub, under the stinging hot shower spray.

Spike lost no time, immediately grabbing the loufa and a bar of soap. He ran the sponge over her back, soaping it thoroughly, then dropped it. He massaged her neck, back, and shoulders, attacking each knot and thoroughly working it out.

"This feels so good," she moaned. "Oh my god, where did you learn how to do that?"

"Just naturally talented, I guess."

His hands slid lower and cupped her buttocks, stroking and massaging her cheeks. She relaxed against him, unable to support her own weight. He was making all of her muscles feel like rubber. She nearly jumped out of the shower when she felt him slide one soap-slicked finger into her anus.

"What are you doing?" She gasped.

"Does it hurt?"

"No." Her voice was high and breathy. "Not at all."

He slid his finger in and out of her slowly, until she had completely relaxed again. Once she got used to it, he slid a second finger into her. "Spike!"

"Shhh. Don't want to wake up the whole house. Put your hands up and brace yourself against the wall. That's it, spread your legs open." She complied, already too lost to the whirlwind of desire to question or protest.

Without slowing his left hand, he slid his right index finger into her pussy, seeking out and then finding her g-spot. He thrust his fingers into her rhythmically until her muscles contracted around him, and she exploded under the cascade of water.

"Oh god," she breathed. "It's been a long time."

Spike chuckled and removed his fingers. She felt very empty, and suddenly wanted him inside of her more than she ever wanted anything.

Spike dropped to his knees behind her. "Now what are....oh Jesus."

His tongue had simply replaced his fingers. He was licking her, lapping at her, thrusting inside of her, and it seemed he was everywhere at once. Who knew that heaven was Spike's tongue? It occurred to her that he shouldn't put his mouth there, that his tongue shouldn't slip between her cheeks and swirl around until she was gasping for breath. She also wondered why they had never done this before. It was mind blowing.

Buffy climaxed again, harder and longer this time. She would have collapsed if Spike hadn't had wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her weight.

"Spike? I need to sit down."

"Just let me finish washing you," he murmured. "I'm almost done."

'Just washing' morphed into an amazing sexual experience that Buffy had never even imagined before. Each touch was designed to stimulate her, make her shake, make her ache to her very core for him. He didn't just use his clever hands and fingers to wring pleasure and lust from every pore; he used his entire body. And yet, he never gave her want she really wanted.

"Alright Slayer, you're all clean."

She couldn't help but be disappointed that this was all over. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, now I get to dry you off." His voice was low, silky, full of promise, and she shivered, goose bumps covering her body.

"What about you? Don't I get to wash you?"

"Maybe later, pet."

She turned around, facing him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She found his mouth, and kissed him hard. He broke away from her and smiled. "Let me take you to bed."

"Yeah, ok, good."