CrazyEvilDru
DISCLAIMER : I do not own these characters.
The groceries are all put away and Spike walks over to the table with a hamburger, sliced apples and a glass of milk. “Dinner of champions.” He says as he places it in front of me.
“Of slayers, you mean.”
“Yeah, that too. But I’d reckon that Hercules ate this too.”
“Hercules? You know about Hercules?”
“I wasn’t raised in the twenty-first century, you know. I know a bloody lot more than you. Disney isn’t an accredited university you know.”
“Wow, big words for such an big idiot.” I retort back and it feels nice to feel a smile on my face.
He grabs the mug of blood out of the microwave and sits down next to me. “I’m not a stupid idiot. I’ll have you know I attended Oxford.”
“Yeah right, you liar.”
“I’m serious.” He insists.
“Yeah, when? I’m sure they let vampires in. I bet it boosts moral and camaraderie.”
“No, you stupid bint, before I turned. I was home on break when I met Dru. A lot of people were and we were at a party of sorts. And I went to Oxford for three years.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“William Bradford. Check it out tomorrow.”
“I will.” I laugh and look at him again. I can’t help but laugh.
“WHAT?” He growls.
“YOU! In a suit and tie, at school! TOO MUCH!” I yell as I burst into laughter. I can just picture him sitting there looking around, wondering who’s most innocent. Then it occurs to me, that wasn’t Spike. I stop laughing and look at him. “Tell me about before.”
“What? Why?”
“Before you changed. What color was your hair?”
“Brownish.”
I look at him and try to imagine a Spike without peroxide and a pulse, but I can’t. It’s too hard. “What were you studying there?”
“Literature, mainly. Now eat.” He winks at me and I take a bite of the hamburger. It’s delicious. Like I’ve never tasted one before *this* one, it’s… it’s new. It’s not Mom’s. It’s Spike’s. Mom won’t make me another hamburger. But Spike can. And for the first time I realize that thinking about what Mom can’t do anymore didn’t make me cry. And that realization makes me cry.
I stand up and start to run. Run. My entire body shouts at me. Run. But he grabs my arm. “Fight it, Slayer.”
“What?” I ask him through tears and gritted teeth.
“Fight the pain. Kick the shit out of it.”
“Why should I? I *want* the pain. It *should* hurt. They’re gone. I shouldn’t be happy.” I scream at him.
“WHY NOT?” He growls. “YOU THINK YOUR MUM WOULD WANT YOU LIKE THIS? You think she’d want you to cut yourself off from all your friends? You think she’d want you to be so sad all the time?”
“Fuck you.” I spit at him. “You don’t know a damn thing about my mom. You don’t know what it feels like.”
“Because *you* won’t tell me, Slayer. You climb into my bed every night and you sleep in my arms. And then you wake up and leave like nothing happened. You hit me and I take it because I don’t know how to help you!” He starts pacing while confessing everything. “But it *didn’t* help you, did it? Neither did fucking me. But I let you do it cause I thought you needed that. And *I* need that because I don’t touch you, or try to kiss you when you crawl in my bed. And it *kills* me not to be able to.” He stops and looks at me. “Don’t you get it, Summers? I *love* you. I’d do anything for you. Even let you beat me and fuck me raw. But I won’t let you continue to hurt yourself like this. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes it was.” I whisper. “I should have been here.”
“And what would you have done? She would have killed you too. Dawn and Joyce wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. They wouldn’t want you to be so sad.”
“You’re right.” I say and look up at him with tears in my eyes. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
“You let someone in, Slayer. You pick someone, and let that person *in*. Don’t carry your pain on your own. We’re all feeling it, though not as intense, but we all lost them.”
“Mom can’t make hamburgers again.” I say as walk over to the table. “Mom won’t go shopping. Dawn won’t ever finish school.”
“Do you think you should stop eating hamburgers?”
“No.” I say. “That was a stupid question.”
“Maybe so, but should you stop living because they did? Would they want that?”
“No. I just don’t know how to live without them.”
“You wake up every day and think of their smiles, and then you get up and get dressed. Then you go to class and make your mum proud. You learn all you can, and slay all you can and you do right by them. You show them what a strong person you are. And when you don’t think you can do it, you call me, or the Witch or Giles and we sit with you and talk about it. Or we all go out for pizza, or we watch a movie, or we just hold each other.”
“I don’t think I can do it, Spike.”
“Sure you can. You can do anything, Slayer. Angelus didn’t get the best of you, don’t let this.” He glances at his watch. “I’m gonna… it’s after midnight.” He starts for the door.
But I whisper, “Spike?” He stops with his hand to the door. “Stay. Please? Stay the night. I need you.” He nods and throws his duster on the table. “I’m tired.” I say and he picks me up and carries me up to my bedroom. He lays me on the bed and lays down next to me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me. And I hold on to him.
In the morning, he’s still there. He closed the curtains last night before holding me. I lift my head and look around. I see the picture of Mom, Dawnie and I sitting on my dresser. I walk over to it and pick it up. “I miss you and love you both.” I whisper before placing a small kiss on the picture.
I hop in the shower and get dressed before making my way down to the kitchen. Much to my surprise, Spike is there with hot chocolate in one hand and French toast in the other. “Thanks.” I say as I take the plate from him.
“Need to eat good.” I smile. “Sleep well?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’ll catch a few more winks when you’re in class.”
“You don’t need to fix me breakfast every morning, Spike.”
“Does that mean I’m invited back tomorrow?” He asks with a twinkle in his eye. “And yes I do. I have to make sure my slayer can still kick my ass.”
He sits down at the table and I eat. It tastes good. *Really* good. I finish and stand up. “I’ve got class.”
“Okay, Luv. See you later.”
“You’re not gonna leave, are you?” I ask. I don’t want him to leave.
“No. Not unless you want me to.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, then. See you later.” I stand up and grab my bag. I stand at the door for a minute before turning around and going to him. He stands up and I graze his lips gently with mine. They touch just briefly, just a taste. He tastes tangy, like smoke and blood with just a hint of brandy. I didn’t know he liked brandy.
“Later.” I whisper as I walk out the door.
I finish with classes and head to the Magic Shop. I walk in and Giles is sitting at the table reading. “Hi.” I say as I walk in. “New demon?”
“No. Just looking through these news books.”
“Oh.” I put my bag down and sit. “Mind if I look too?” I ask as I take one.
“Uh, um, no, of course not, Buffy.” I smile and start reading, but not before I see his smile. I read a few pages and I know he’s still looking at me.
“Thank you for the money.” I say.
“It was Xander’s idea. He thought you’d need it.” I start reading again when he says, “I, uh, trust you’re feeling a little better?” He asks quietly, not wanting to offend.
I put the book down and look at him. “It’s hard. But I’m trying.”
“Good. You know, Buffy, we’re all worried about you.”
“I know.”
“You know I think of you all as…” he takes his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Well, as mine.”
“I know.” I say and stand up to hug him. He takes me in his arms and hugs me. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch.”
“We all understand, Buffy. We all miss them.”
“I know that too.” I smile and stand up. “I’m gonna get going home.” Home? I walk out and wonder when it became home. Why would I say that? Because it sound natural? I don’t know. I open the door and walk in. Brownies. I walk into the kitchen to find Spike sitting with a plate of brownies. “Honey, I’m home?” I ask sarcastically.
“Rum brownie?” He asks as he holds up the plate.
“Sure.” I sit down and take one. “I was thinking I’d go to the bank tomorrow.”
“Why?” He asks as he pops one in his mouth.
“I’m Mom’s beneficiary. I have to start paying for the house and doing the paperwork and stuff. Spike?”
“Yes?”
“I’m scared.”
“I spoke with Giles today and between him, Willow and myself, you’ll have to sign checks.”
“Really? They’d do that for me? *You’d* do that for me?”
“I told you that I’d do anything for you, Summers.”
After our brownies, I change and he makes dinner. I walk down the stairs to find roasted chicken, potatoes, and peas on the table. “Wow. This looks good.” And it tastes good too. New. Different. Not as good as Mom’s. But Mom isn’t here. She’s not coming back. She won’t ever t-
“Slayer?” His voice penetrates the silence.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Good.” We finish in silence and head out for a patrol. The air feels different tonight, cooler, fresher. Maybe a storm is coming. We rarely get them in Sunnydale. Maybe because whoever is in charge of the weather realizes that we have too many demons to be concerned with a storm. Maybe the two have nothing do with each other.
“I think it’s gonna storm.” He says.
“Yeah. Me too.” I look over at him and he smiles, I do too. For no reason. Just because. It seems like it’s been forever since I just smiled. Just because. I feel his hand over mind and our fingers entwine as we continue to look for demons. But there are none. “You think it’s because of the storm?”
“Yes. It’s a bitch to be feeding when it starts raining.”
“Should we ca-” I stop and walk over to the oak tree. He comes with me this time, he stands beside me. I lean on him. I feel his arms wrap around my waist and I relax in his hold. I stare at the letters for what seems like hours. “Spike?” I whisper.
“Yeah,Buffy?”
“You think they’re happy?” I bite back the tears that threaten to tear me from the small bit of reality that I’ve managed to hold onto.
“Yeah, Slayer. I think they’re happy.”
“Where are they?” I ask. I know they’re not here. But where then?
“Where do you want them to be?” He asks.
“Surrounded by green grass, and light. With books to read, and fun things to do, and good things to eat. With no worries or regrets or pain.”
“Then that’s where they are.”
“How do you know?” I ask him as I turn around.
“I just do.” He whispers and I feel his lips closing in on mine. And two months ago, I would have stopped him. One month ago I would have slammed a door in his face, or shoved a stake through his heart. But I don’t now, because it feels right.
His lips touch mine slowly, tentatively. I feel his tongue lick my bottom lip and I open my mouth slowly. His hands wrap around and pull me close to him as I taste him for the first time. He’s not any better than before. He’s new. He’s different. His tongue feels different, cooler. His hands are smaller, softer. And he tastes not of donuts, but of rum and blood and smoke, of chicken and peas and milk. He tastes like Spike.
I feel the splatters of raindrops start to fall on us and the sweet taste of fresh rain mingles in our mouths and makes the kiss wet. It’s salty and sweet all together. He pulls away and we hold hands as we walk back to the house.
I open the door and I’m shivering. “You’re cold. You should get changed.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna go upstairs.” I turn to head up, but he doesn’t follow. “Are you coming?” I ask as I head up. He follows me this time. I grab a change of clothes and my robe and head into the bathroom. I take the wet clothes off and pull my robe on after drying off. When I walk out, he’s already under the covers with half turned down.
I slowly slide in beside him and he pulls me close. His chest is cool and still a little wet. “Spike?”
“Yeah, Summers?”
“Thank you.” I whisper against his skin.
“For what?”
“For bringing me back to my senses.”
“I didn’t do anything, Slayer. You did it yourself. I just watched.” I smile and close my eyes, listening to the low roar of thunder outside and the rain quietly pelting the window. I inhale the fresh air coming through the cracked window and wonder if he can hear my heart beating.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, Buffy?”
“Remember when you said you wanted to touch me, but didn’t?”
“Yeah.” He says.
I lift my head and look into his eyes. “Touch me.” I whisper. And he does. His lips graze mine softly at first as he slowly rolls us over so he’s half-laying on me. I run my hands down his chest and around to his back, feeling his skin. I can still taste the rum on his tongue and the rain on his lips as he kisses me sweetly.
He starts kissing down my neck and I feel his hands resting on the knot to my robe. “Are you sure?” He asks, looking into my eyes. I nod and feel his fingers pulling at the knot. It comes undone easily and he pushes the fabric away from my bare skin. The cool air hits my skin and gives me the goose bumps. His hand soothes away the pain and fear as he runs it over my stomach and up my arms to my cheek. “I love you, Buffy. God, I love you so much.”
“I know.” I say as I look into his eyes. His mouth takes a nipple and he suckles it like a small child. I moan as he kisses lower still. His cool tongue laps at my sex before pushing through to my insides. My body’s on fire, flashing like the lightning outside my window, and the silent rain pelting my window. I hold his head to my body as he continues to oral assault on me. I see the droplets of rain dripping from my windowsill as it drips in from outside and I wonder if I taste like the rain.
I wonder if he can feel the storm, because for once, I can’t. I feel wet and hear silent rain. The fresh air fills my lungs and I see light coming through the dark. I scream as the tsunami he’s made in my body explodes and floods my veins with life.
He kisses his way up my body. “Can you feel the storm?” I ask him and he shakes his head. “Neither can I.”
His tongue caresses my lips and I taste like rain and fresh flowers in the sunlight. Like salt and honey and everything good and bad, pain and pleasure, love and hate. I taste like everything and nothing on his tongue as I feel him enter me. I arch my back and take him into my body. He invades not only my body, but my soul as well. “I love you.” I whisper in his ear and he kisses me more. I feel his love. I can taste it, smell it, hear it. I can see it in his eyes as he starts to move within my body.
I run my hands over his skin and don’t pay attention to the storm outside because he is all that matters. He’s inside with me, he’s inside me. And he’s moving, and pushing, making me stretch, making me cry. He makes me beg, and moan, and he makes me feel when I didn’t think I could. He made me listen when I didn’t want to hear. He made me see when I was blind. And he lets me taste the rain.
“Spike!” I moan as my body arches and I gasp for breath. I know he’s whispering how much he loves me, and how beautiful I am to him. And I believe him. For once, I believe him. Because he’s never lied to me.
I feel his cool seed spill and fill me from within. I can feel it throughout my body as stars fall onto my face and I realize they are tears. I wipe his cheeks and he relaxes over me for a second, just looking into my eyes.
He rolls next to me and gathers me in his arms and I can finally taste freedom. Freedom from the pain. Freedom from who and what I am. Freedom from who I’m supposed to be and who I wish I could be. Spike let’s me taste that freedom. And it’s delicious. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I don’t know why I was blinded by pain and agony where love resides. I just know that I can see now. When once home was perfume and cookies, home is now smoke and beer. Home is leather and light musk that he won’t admit to wearing. Spike is home now. And he listened to me when I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t love him. And I’m now glad that I didn’t really tell him that, because I can now. Perhaps he was what I needed to *feel* all along. Perhaps it was all just a matter of senses.
~El Fin de Taste~
~El Fin de SENSORY~