Fic: A Slayer’s Path chap 8 (NC-17)

This entry is part 8 of 12 in the series A Slayer's Path
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A Slayer’s Path
Chapter Eight – A Little Conversation
Beta by spikeslovebite

Buffy couldn’t focus, and she needed to. She had to get the damn key in the lock, but how was she supposed to do that simple, little thing when Spike was trailing kisses down her neck and had his right hand around her and tweaking her left nipple? Really, how could any woman in her position accomplish such a task?

“Spike,” she panted. “Gotta… room… key… stop.”

“You want me to stop, petal?” he asked, while attending to a particularly sensitive spot on the nape of her neck.

“Gah! No, don’t stop… but…”

Spike clucked in amusement. He stopped working on her left breast and put his hand on hers around the key. Together they managed to fit the key in the lock. Buffy spun around to face him as the door slammed open.

Grabbing his lapels, Buffy roughly hoisted him into the room. Using her right foot, she kicked the door closed and slammed Spike against it. She ripped open his shirt and began licking from the dip in his clavicle to the hair that started right below his belly button. She paused and dipped her tongue around his belly button, remembering how he seemed to like that, as she began to unbuckle his belt.

At first, Spike seemed to respond wholeheartedly to her ministrations, but then she felt him tense. His hands found their way to her hair and he softly said, “Luv… wait.”

Confused Buffy looked up into his eyes. She could see that his were still filled with lust, but now, they also revealed trepidation. After how he’d been on the other side of the door, he couldn’t be about to reject her, could he?

Spike almost winced at the confusion and slight fear in Buffy’s eyes. He tilted her chin up higher and said gently, “Buffy… not like this, luv.” Spike tugged Buffy to her feet and kissed her lips softly.

“If we do this, it can’t be like before. I can’t take that. Not again. I won’t be your willing slave and have you…” Spike shook with the memories.

Buffy understood. Regret and compassion for her vampire – her man – filled her and she wished, not for the first time tonight, she could find ways to make their past up to him. She could start now. There was so much to tell him. She wanted to do this right. He deserved that and more.

“Spike, I want this. I want us. I want you more than anything. Never again, Spike, I promise. Never again will you feel like you don’t matter to me…that you’re not loved. ‘Cause I love you, Spike.”

Ghosting her fingertips across his questioning face, she swallowed hard before she continued. “I can’t say I’m sorry enough for that time. It was bad. I was bad.”

Spike began shushing her and shaking his head no, just like she knew he would. Buffy put a finger on his lips stopping him from saying anything. “Spike, don’t say I wasn’t. I was. Over these past months I’ve had lots of time to think and believe it or not, I went to see someone about… well, everything. No, none of the others know. Not even Dawn. It wasn’t about them… it was about me. You might even remember her. Lydia.”

Spike looked bewildered. Buffy smiled. “Remember that Watcher who did her thesis on you?”

Grinning but remaining silent, Spike nodded in fond remembrance of that blonde, determined Watcher who had come to question him about Buffy during that whole Glory mess.

“Somehow she survived Caleb’s explosion. No one knew she was still alive until after…when Giles and Willow went to set up the new headquarters. She approached them, still bearing the scars from the fire. Lydia’s incredibly brave. She told Giles that while she was happy that they survived, she would be retiring from the Council. So, when I started thinking about just whom I could talk to about everything, Lydia came to mind. I researched her and found out she had a degree in psychology. I found her and secretly began meeting with her.”

Spike asked, “How is she now? Lydia? What have you told her?”

Buffy took Spike’s hand and led him to sit beside her on the bed. “Lydia’s still got these horrible looking scars on her face, but she refuses to get plastic surgery to fix them. She told me, ‘We all have battle scars, Miss Summers. Some like mine are on the outside, but yours are all internal.’

“She sounds like a right smart lady, pet. Thought so when I met her, too.”

“She is. She’s been very helpful. I told her about being ripped out of heaven. She asked me how I knew I was even there. Had I done some revealing spell to find out for sure? Lydia said that there perhaps I wasn’t in heaven, but rather that the Powers had placed me in a safe place. She asked me if I had seen my mother where I was.”

Gripping his hand harder, Buffy fought back the tears. “Spike, I never saw anyone. Not mom, not Grandma Summers, not Celia. It’d been too long, so Lydia can’t be sure, but we don’t think it was Heaven.”

Buffy felt Spike’s strong arms encompass her in a hug. She buried her nose in his chest, inhaling his unmistakable scent. He started rocking her in that age-old tradition of comfort. Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his chest.

“I’m okay, Spike.” Wiping the beginnings of tears from her eyes, Buffy sniffed and to her horror realized she still stank.

“Oh God, Spike. I reek. How can you stand me?”

Spike chuckled. “I guess my nose grew accustomed to it. But you’re right; you don’t smell like yourself. What in the bloody hell did you bathe in, Slayer?”

“You really don’t want to know,” Buffy replied. “You wanna help me wash it off?”

She could tell he was more than tempted to do just that. He just needed some encouragement to tip him over the edge. “Spike, I can’t promise you that I’ll never act like a complete bitch ever again. It sort of goes with the whole Buffy-Slayer package. But I can promise you that I’ll never willingly hurt you ever again. I love you. I want to do this right. Shower with me?”

“Well, when you ask so nicely, how can a bloke say no?” Spike tickled her sides and kissed the tip of her nose.

Buffy walked to the bathroom, dropping her garments in her wake. Spike watched her from the bed; his hunger for her grew once again. She’d be the death of him one day. But what a way to go!

Buffy bent down seductively, stepping out of her pants, revealing that she’d worn no underwear just for him. Wiggling her hips, she looked back at Spike and said, “Well, are you coming or not?”

Spike bit back a growl and replied, “Yeah.” To low for her to hear, he whispered, “Almost did right then.”

He sped off the bed, ran to Buffy, grabbed her, and hauled her into the bathroom. Buffy giggled the whole time.

 

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/122473.html

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