Memory of All That

DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX , Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs not mine. Climbing down the ladder into Spike's crypt, Buffy hears the sound of the shower running. Spike's baritone voice belts out a song. "The way your smile just beams, the way you sing off key, the way you haunt my dreams." She hears a small bang and then a colorful curse. "Bollocks. Bloody slippery soap," he grumbles. He continues singing, "no, no, they can't take that away from me..." Buffy sits down on his bed, waiting. The sound of the water stops. Out strolls wet, naked Spike, rubbing his head with a towel. "We may never, never meet again," he sings, and then stopped abruptly as he sees her. His face sets into a stony expression. ”Well, well. Hello there, Slayer." Throwing out his arms, he strikes a pose for her. "This is the dress code, love, so strip down or sod off, " says Spike sarcastically. Buffy surprises them both by standing up and stripping off her clothes. She lies back down on the bed, never breaking eye contact. Spike's body reacts instantly. He can smell her hair, the delicate scent of her skin, and her arousal. Tossing the towel aside, he goes to her. Pulling her into his arms, Spike kisses her gently on the forehead. Slowly and deliberately, he leaves tiny kisses all over her face and neck. She scratches at his shoulders, making low murmuring noises in her throat. Catching her lower lip in his teeth, he bites down gently. Sliding down her body, he licks her nipples, feather light and then harder. When she begins moving in earnest underneath him, trying vainly to pull his mouth up to hers, he stops. He pulls her close, until they are face to face. They stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Gently, he brushes back her hair from her brow. "There is no way in hell I am going to fuck you ever again," he says, in the coldest, hardest voice she has ever heard. Buffy pushes at him to let her up, but he won't move. "We spent the night together, doing incredibly erotic things to one another. I felt you come all around me, saw it, tasted it. I thought we were finally getting somewhere. I saw the spark of love in your eyes. I sensed the softness when you looked at me. I knew your heart was opening up when you held me in your arms." Spike stares at her, pinning her with his gaze. "Next morning, you look at me like I'm some kind of whore and your eyes are full of shame and guilt." Abruptly, he pushes off of her. Agitated, he paces around the room. "You hurt me, Buffy. I was willing to let it go because we both said some pretty stupid things the morning after we made love. Maybe the sex was too intense; maybe we let too many walls down between us. But the last straw was going to check on Dawn and bouncing off the sodding deinvite barrier, then looking up and seeing that you had festooned your bloody window with GARLIC!" Desperate for something to do other than bludgeon her, Spike picks up a pillar candle and smashes it into the wall. Tiny chunks of wax rain down. "Do you remember what I told you when we were looking for Dawn? I meant it. Only now you've got me so incredibly brassed off, I can't even look at you without wanting to harm you." He looks at Buffy, still lying on his bed. Her face is perfectly blank, like nothing he had said means anything to her at all. "I don't just want to bite you, Slayer. I want to drain you. I want you to not exist. I want to not have to see you ever again, because you have made a mockery of me. You have stomped the hope out of me. You gave me everything I ever wanted and then ripped it away." Grabbing an ashtray from a side table, he whips it into the wall. "You're dead to me. Out of my grasp once again. Except I don't have Dawn to love this time. I can't go tend to her and be there for her. You've taken that away from me too. You've taken every scrap of love that I had and destroyed it." Spike looks around, searching for something else to smash. Lost in anger, he vamps. "It's been a good while since I was homicidal. But this is really familiar. Yeah, this is what it feels like. Bloodlust," he hisses through his fangs. Buffy walks over to him. Spike puts up a warning hand. "I mean it. I can't control myself now. Get the hell away." She reaches him, and slips an arm around his waist. Locking her shoulders in his powerful grip, he bites into her neck, making guttural noises as he begins to feed. Buffy is floating in a calm, tranquil ocean. Clear blue water surrounds her. Lapping at her in waves, it relaxes her more with each roll. She is cocooned in warmth. The waves come faster as the water grows colder. A giant wave is coming, bearing down on her. She snaps back to reality as an intense orgasm rolls over her. It seems to seize her entire body, compressing every muscle she possesses and blowing all thoughts but one out of her head. I- need- Spike. She must have said it aloud, because she feels his fangs retract from her neck as he drops her onto his bed. Her eyes open in time to see him descend, his beautiful human face suffused with love and lust. Spike flips her onto her stomach, driving into her from behind. "I can't bear it," he whispers. "I can't look into your lying eyes." His arms wrap around her ribcage, squeezing her tightly as he moved inside her at a furious pace. "You're a beautiful liar," he hissed. "Those precious deceits spilling from your eyes, telling things that masquerade as truth so well." One of his hands wanders down to her clit, pinching it and sending her over the edge again. Her head lolls back onto his chest as she shakes with pleasure.