Break Free

As They Were by Jaymi Leaf

Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Inclusive of As You Were in Season Six.
Summary: Set during 'As You Were' (Season Six). Buffy goes to Spike for information, but ends up turning to him for comfort instead.
Author's Note: A little plot, but not much.
Word Count: 3070
Date Completed: 11th August 2002

Buffy walked into Spike’s crypt haphazardly, crashing through the door with little worry that she would break it. She was not in a good mood, her talk with Sam-the-perfect-wife(-from-Stepford) and her badly veiled excuse to get away from her were only part of the anger which she felt. The bulk of it was towards Riley, who had arrived back in town with his wonderful-Buffyless-life when her life was still taking a substantial turn for the worse.

She glanced at the scene before her, a set in which much had happened over the past few months. Her eyes immediately fixed on him, and his posture surprised her. He was sitting on top of his coffin, reading a book. It was not the usual pose she imagined Spike in. And frequently she denied that she imagined him at all. The coffin that he was perched on looked as if it was trying very hard to be a couch, adorned with a throw-pillow and a blanket, but it did not quite manage the effect. Perhaps something to do with its location in a crypt.

Spike glanced up, seemingly unfazed by her loud entrance, and closed his book. “Buffy. Hey now. If I'd-a known you were coming, I'd-a baked a cake.” he said with his usual starkness. It was plain that she was not here to be nice to him, and he was wary of her ever since the beating she had given him.

Buffy walked over to Spike and stood before him with the air of a priest standing before chocolate on lent. She started, without really thinking about it, pulling off her black gloves.
“I need information.” she said in a businesslike manner.

Spike had already guessed that this was the reason for her coming, so he showed no surprise. Instead he glanced her over and smirked, his face full of suggestion as he said
“Well, suppose I could be helpful… If the price is right… I'm not sure I'm selling out at Double Meat Palace wages, though.”

Buffy thought about telling him that he didn’t need to try and tempt her further, but quickly chastised that thought and continued with her interrogation routine.
“I need to find a guy. Dealer. Calls himself ‘The Doctor’.”

Spike was used to her coldness by now, so he played along.
“Human?”

“His traffic isn't.”

“Clock ticking?”

“Whatever he's doing, he's doing it soon.”

There, two questions would do it, he had put enough effort into the conversation. He glanced Buffy up and down slowly, more for her benefit than his as he did not need to survey her to enjoy her presence… But he needed to remind her that he appreciated it.
“Soon but not now?”

He did not expect the pause that came next, or the laboured look that Buffy gave him. He waited for some sign of what she was about to do next.

Buffy had a sudden impulse to cry, which of course she beat down. A wave of loneliness lapped at her heart and she drew in a slow breath before saying quietly.
“Tell me you love me.”

It was a raw request.

Spike replied instantly with no hesitation but a little surprise,
“I love you. You know I do.”

Buffy took a couple of steps closer to him, and with a little more confidence but no less pleading said,
“Tell me you want me.”

He obeyed.

“I always want you. In point of fact-”

“Shut up.” Buffy said in a whisper. He did.

She moved in close to him as if she was about to kiss him, but instead her arm slunk up and she hooked it around his neck. She could not look into his face just yet, vaguely embarrassed by her need for him. She guided him around as if they were about to dance, but instead pulled him down onto the covered coffin. Spike let himself be led. As always Buffy was in control, and he would do anything to please her.

Buffy lay down on the coffin slowly with Spike following on top of her but still at a distance. Now she could look into his face, stare into his eyes. He looked so vulnerable, as if no-one had ever been so tender with him before. Because her hands were slowing unbuttoning his shirt.

Spike was willing to be led, but still confused. Every other time that they had had sex it had started with violent foreplay, and passionate kisses, things he was familiar with. For the first time he was unsure of what she expected of him. So he mimicked her movements. Her fingers were still slowly unbuttoning his shirt, so his hands moved to the bullet-proof vest she was wearing. He was not sure why she was wearing it, and in truth had never thought to ask.

She stared up at him in a way that made his heart phantom-beat, and her hands gently pushed the partially unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders. Her hands were warm against his flesh, and gentle in a confusing way. She pulled on the shirt gently and guided him down for a kiss. But it was not laced with passion, her tongue did not seek out his, and it lasted for only a moment.

Her fingertips slipped beneath his shirt teasingly as she administered as second gentle kiss. Her lips touched his, warm and comforting, and it almost made her laugh to realise what she was doing. She wasn’t trying to have sex with Spike, she was trying to make l-

Spike felt her fingernails dig into his shoulders as she pulled away from the kiss abruptly. He had actually been enjoying the tenderness of her touches, the way that her breath intermingled with his, even though he did not need to breath. She looked uncertain, angry, ashamed. He felt liked he was loosing her, and it was only then that he realised that he had had her. In those tender kisses and touches he had finally been accepted by her, but now she was pulling back, and he was detached again.

Buffy straightened her thoughts quickly, pushing ideas of love from her mind, and looked up at Spike. He was watching her, with the intense look of a hurt-puppy.

Her hands relaxed on his back and she slid her fingers further into his shirt. The material followed slowly, and she touched every inch of skin with exploratory fingertips. It was as if she was touching, feeling him for the first time. Not their first time of course, that had been all anger and want, but as if she were a virgin and him her tender boyfriend. As if he was Angel.

Spike watched her face and held back the shivers that her hands on his back were producing. Her eyes were fixed on his left shoulder, as if she did not want to meet his gaze, and so he lent down and tried to draw her to him with a kiss.

His lips hit hers swiftly and were welcomed by a warm mouth. She tentatively flicked her tongue out to touch his lips, but when he parted them it retreated back into her own mouth. She was vaguely aware of other sensations around her body. She felt her nipples beginning to harden to a painful sensitiveness beneath her clothes, and she felt the steady wet arousal between her legs, goaded on by his erection, which was pressing into her thigh.

But for the moment she was content to linger on those kisses, and take it slowly. Nevertheless she pulled his shirt off entirely before continuing her exploration of his mouth. She kissed his upper lip, then his lower lip, then both. Again she felt like a girl who was experimenting with technique on her first love. His hands, which she had not been aware of for a moment, finally managed to remove her bullet proof vest and deftly began to push up her black top. She wriggled a little, signalling that he should take it off entirely, as he was generally not very picky about how clothed she was. As he dragged the top over her head the clasp on her hair broke, causing the blonde-amber locks to fall about her face. For a moment she stared at him, then she grinned and pulled him down for another kiss. This time he pressed his tongue into her mouth vehemently and she welcomed it with hers.

His hands unclasped her bra with some expertise and she wriggled, now impatient as he slid it off her. He broke the kiss to grin at her wolfishly. She felt his erection grow harder against her leg, and her hands instinctively went down to his trousers.

He caught her hands and forced them back up, rolling his tongue back up behind his teeth in a smirk. He pressed his clothed cock into the very place she wanted it between her legs and she trembled involuntarily. She knew that she was stronger than him and could easily force his hands away, but she didn’t. Instead she used once hand to grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. Her fingers toyed gently with the bleached hair at the back of his neck as her tongue pressed into his mouth.

Though he was not used to being in charge, he took it all in his stride, and pushed her trousers down to her knees. His hands feverishly sought out her pussy. He absently touched the wet panties before dragging them away and pushing them down with her trousers. Her lips were still locked onto his and her hands clung to him desperately.

He teased one finger against her clitoris and rubbed gently, enjoying her noises of pleasure as she broke away from his lips. Her eyes snapped onto his, hazel-green meeting cold blue. There was no way to describe the jolt that he had received by their locked gazes that had not already been described in a thousand bad romance novels. But this was real.

The moment passed, her eyes closing painfully, and her hand yanked his head down again; smashing his lips into hers violently. For a split-second he Vamped-out, his canines brushing her lower lip. But when she opened her eyes; startled, he wore his human mask again.

Spike was very aware of his body. His lips were fixed onto hers as his tongue tackled hers in a mimicry of the foreplay battles they usually shared. While he rested on one of his hands, the other was pressed softly up to her wetness, toying deftly with her clit in an attempt to bring her over the edge for the first time that night. Not the last; but the first. He slid one finger into her, changing the angling of his hand so that his thumb teased her clit instead. She rewarded him, or perhaps punished him, with a slight buck of her hips, her thigh pressing up into his erection and causing him to gasp for unneeded breath.

Buffy stopped her search for kisses and simply watched him. She found just observing him was arousing enough. Producing that ‘downward tickle’, that was more like a throb. She wanted him inside her now. I want doesn’t get. But she was content; very content to wait for him to finish his ministrations.

He pressed a second finger inside her and began moving the two in synchrony with his thumb. She bit her tongue, and her eyes fluttered shut. He joined a third finger with the other two, and blood flowed into her mouth from the gash she had opened up in her cheek. The three digits fit into her with painful tightness, and the friction they produced was almost too good considering they were just fingers.

Spike felt her inner-walls tighten around his fingers, and couldn’t avoid the grin that sprung to his lips. He leant down a little, now that her mouth was more preoccupied with gasping, and began kissing her neck subtly.

Buffy vaguely remembered that her hands were free, and moved them with trembling arms to the back of Spike’s head. She pushed him gently away from her neck, and for a second he looked hurt. She was surprised that she cared, but she removed the thought and feeling for later as she dragged his lips back down onto hers.

Spike was angry at first, it wasn’t as if he was going to bite her. But when she pulled his lips back onto hers, he was shocked with the injection of blood into his mouth from hers. He drank it quickly, aware that it was probably only a few drops but concerned to find out where it was coming from. His tongue danced lightly against the inside of her cheek and he tasted the metal-pain-power concoction of Slayer’s blood. She had never let him taste it before.

His hand, which had slowed for a moment, began moving again with increased force. The numbing pleasure that was radiating from his touch doubled, then tripled. Buffy gasped as the orgasm rocked and weakened her body simultaneously. One of her hands dropped from the back of Spike’s neck, while the other relaxed its hold. She rained brief kisses on his mouth, that if he hadn’t known better he would have called thankful.

As quickly as the orgasm had come upon her it left, like an animal seeping back into her body and falling asleep. She clung to it for a second then let it go, her gaze shifting once more to capture Spike’s eyes. He stared at her with lust, and the love that she denied existed. His features pulled her out of her inner world and back into his crypt and the desire, the wanting.

Needing.

He withdrew his fingers from her quickly, warranting a slight growl of protest from her. But the combination of Slayer’s blood, and the look on her face when she had come hard at his touch, had made it to difficult for him not to be inside her.

Spike put his free hand down to his trousers, his movements erratic and desperate as he tried to undo them without shifting his gaze from Buffy’s. Her face seemed to visibly soften and she pulled on his hand, causing him to let loose a light growl of his own. Regardless she pulled his hand up to her naked breasts, and fixed his lips to hers with a biting kiss.

Buffy slid both her hands down Spike’s body, one tracing his spine and the other darting quickly to his zipper-button combo. Her fingers expertly undid the button-zipper, and slowly she pushed his trousers down, her free hand encircling his now-released and very hard cock. She felt him tremble on top of her, and his mouth pull away from hers as if he was about to say something. She delicately touched his cock, her fingers running down its length before re-encircling it and dragging her hand up in a lingering motion. He collapsed against her, and his lips once again touched hers.

Spike needed to be inside of her, and he wanted to tell her that desperately, but as he dragged his lips away from hers she touched him with such gentle pleasure that he decided she could do whatever she wanted.

She did anyway.

He shoved the bitter thought away and growled with frustration. Buffy was wiggling beneath him, grinding herself up against his body but refusing to let him enter her. He bit her lower lip hard and she stared up at him. He had imagined he’d see glee in her eyes, but instead he saw pleading. She was giving him control again.

He straightened his body out over her, and slid his hands down to under her thighs. Pulling them up she obligingly wrapped her legs around his middle. Her arousal was easy to smell, driving him to place several possessive kisses on her lips before settling back into the intense tongue-tackling routine. He slid his hands up her sides and placed them on her breasts, though he was impatient, he took the time to roll her nipples around with his thumbs and index fingers as the others massaged the her flesh. She nipped his tongue and he grinned against her lips.

His hands slid back down her sides and he held onto her hips, raising them slightly off the sarcophagus. He took only a split second to position himself before thrusting inside. Usually he would build it up, but felt as if he was almost ready to come and he wanted to be in her when he did that. Her legs tightened around his back and a sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes snapped open and he stared into them for a tantalising second before he began to grind into her.

He fit into her perfectly and Buffy loved him for it. No, not loved. No. But she tightened her grip on him and begged him to go faster. Pressure was building inside of her and all she could focus on was that connection between them.

“Spike..”

She begged with only one word, but it drove him faster into her. His name on her lips was all that he needed to hear, for the moment. His balls tightened and ached as he felt the orgasm approaching. He tried to hold back for as long as possible as he increased her pleasure, but his selfless quota seemed to have been drained dry for the day and he finally came hard inside her.

She dimly felt the strange sensation of him coming inside of her and it pushed Buffy over the edge for the second time in that hour. She called out his name again, but it barely registered to her as he called out her name in return.

Buffy lay quietly beside him in the bed. Well, on the sarcophagus. She knew that he did not expect her to be there when he woke up, but she could not find the strength or will to move from his side. There was something morbidly worrying about watching him sleep, he looked just like a corpse and it scared her. When she could take it no more she leant up against him and closed her eyes. So many thoughts were scattering her brain when all she wanted was to sleep. But she also wanted to wake Spike.

Not just because she was afraid of his lack of movement asleep, but because she needed to talk to him and to tell him something he had been waiting to hear.

Sex with him was a revelation.

That thought almost made her laugh hard enough to fall to the ground. She’d better not voice that to him or anyone else. But there were things that needed to change now between him and her, and although the thought scared her, she knew they had to happen. If they didn’t, well, then she would have just been using him. She needed to tell him that she wanted him, and that...

The thought drifted off and she smiled. Sleep forced a blanked over her mind and whatever she had wanted to wake him up to say, it could wait until morning.

Finis