Hello Beginning Again

 

by Lizerrrbeathan

 

*

 

It wasn't his face, the strong lines of his jaw or promise of hard flat muscles floating smoothly beneath his clothes or even the way he moved which was like water, like a word beginning simple and falling down into iambic pentameter. Or his hair pulled back and held tight in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, which might have seemed effeminate but instead heightened his masculinity and it wasn't because she was lonely or lacked for company, several, well, five men and one woman had already tried for the seat in the booth across from her and all had been dismissed with a cold look or a quip or even a twist of the arm in the case of one blue jean jacketed 6'3" and all about me swagger man and so, no it wasn't about wanting company or looking for company and maybe baby a bar was the very wrong place for her to be right now where it was assumed one came looking and she was looking, she was. But she was looking for something, for someone so...so specific, no one fell between the lines in her coloring book and god, if these rambling thoughts, if this scat, scat and scurry thought process wasn't a clue as to what sent her running, what was? And it wasn’t about being desperate or settling for half and half when she wanted the full cup for cream to satisfy her inner kitty, goodness knows ‘settling’ wasn’t her issue and it wasn’t about finding new stimulus to old brain matter; it wasn't about any of that; it was not the reason she nodded 'yes.' ‘Yes you may sit down.’

 

It was his eyes.                  

 

Wide and warm and a blue going on gray that was easy, so easy to look into and as desirable as the sea, as a see escape. Not hard blue which could be icy and reflective and who really wanted to see themself look back? No, every one wanted to gaze out and into the sea and now she knew why as she looked into soft gray moving pools that drew her in to whirl her.      

 

He sat down carefully, slowly, softly in front of her as if not to startle her...and she..appreciated that. Not that she might startle easily...but it was sorta like a: ‘look, hands in the air no gun in sight’ kind of gesture...I mean you no harm kinda thing...and even though she could take care of herself thank you very much she appreciated the social...grace. The good manners.

 

He didn't say anything for a long moment. Didn't start yammering or talking her up and she appreciated that too.

 

He looked at her and she looked at him and she waited to see what happened next.   

 

Finally he asked the mundane thing.

 

"What you drinkin, luv?'"

 

Oh he had an accent...British...or Aussie? And a nice voice too. It was a safe question and so she answered because she could and it was nice to be able to have an answer to a question. Finally, some kinda answer to some kinda question. Something she knew in this strange fill-in-the-blank world.

 

"Beer...just a beer..."                    

 

He nodded and flagged a waitress down and gestured toward her near empty mug and added.                               

 

"Two beers and a shot of Tequila..."

 

"I'll take a shot..." she said impulsively, without thinking and the man smiled slightly and added:                    

 

"And one for the Miss."

 

The waitress left and she asked straight from the hip.

 

"How do you know I'm a Miss?"                

 

He looked at her and cocked his head and when she felt a strange stirring at the sight and her private pussycat purred, that sharpened her interest in him. A lot.

 

"No ring."                                               

 

"I could have a ring in my purse."

 

"No ring in your purse either, no ring on the mobile...shhh...listen..."

 

And here they both paused and listened to the sounds of conversation going on around them, the din of jukebox music but no ring or ringing...

 

"See? No ring, no one trying your knocker..."

 

And here his gaze slipped down to her breasts and if his eyes hadn't been filled with such warm merry making maybe that would have been a TKO for him and out of the booth he would go...but as it was...it was funny...he was funny...and funny meant...smart and...warm...and willing to live well in a mad, mad world.

 

"Oh, now you wanted to say knockers, plural...so bad and you didn't; you just, just stopped short of a maybe innuendo and so here I give you a one dollar bill for self control."

 

And then she slapped a GW down on the table top with a happy smack and he gently put his hand on top of hers and said.         

 

"How 'bout a smile instead?"

 

His hand was cool (cold) on top of hers and her eyes dimmed down instead of lighting up.

 

Oh god, oh god, oh god...he...the first he or she could stand to spend twenty seconds with for the past half year was one of those...one of those things...she knew it...god, how come she didn't sense it before?

 

She yanked her hand out from beneath his.         

 

He pulled his hand back and said quickly, softly.

 

"Sorry, sorry...I won't hurt you, you know that right?"

 

"That's right you won't, but I'm gonna hurt you."

 

And he then he looked deep into her and said simply.

 

"Please don't."                    

 

And from the intimate way he looked at her, the deep familiar way he addressed her...her instincts sharpened her attention to ask this question:

 

"Do you know me?"

 

He watched her carefully for a moment and she could see he was working it out, thinking out what to say and finally he said.

 

"Yes."                      

 

She looked at his face the clean lines of his jaw, the light brown hair pulled back to the nape of his neck and...his eyes...he seemed warm..and...something...but...

 

"I don't remember you..."

 

Quiet for a moment.

 

"I know."

 

"Sorry...if it's any...I mean, I don't remember anyone..."

 

"Yeah..."       

 

"Blow to the head...so cliche...so cliche...how about that? I can remember that a blow to the head is cliche and why I should floss my teeth and some other things...some world events, but most people...I..."

 

And here she looked down.

 

"Shh...shh..." he said

 

And he meant it...he meant the universal sound for ease up now, comfort now...’shhh...shhh...it'll be all right.’

 

"So are you spying on me? Did they send you after me?"

 

"Are you on the run, then?"           

 

She shrugged and instead of answering that she asked             

 

"So what are you? You're one of those things...but you're not. You're warmer inside...I'm not picking up the ugly cold black vibe thing...so what are you? Like reformed or something...like that other one..."                 

 

And here the bells binged and banged from the old pinball machine in the corner of the room and she recited automatically:

 

"Look, teacher says, every time a bell rings an Angel gets his wings..."

 

He huffed at that and said:  

 

"I'm nothing like that poofter, no, not at all like Angel..."

 

"Angel...yeah..that's his name..."

 

"I am nothing like him..." he insisted so vehemently it sounded childish and she smiled. She genuinely smiled.

 

"O.K. got it. Kinda glad to hear it...they...Dawn..." and here she said the name like she had been practicing it and he pulled his brows together at the effort of her concentration...he watched her as she thought hard and then continued with:

 

"Giles...Dawn...and Giles took me to see this...guy..." And here she looked up quickly as she substituted the word 'thing' for 'guy' and so, so smooth was she, did he notice? Not that she should worry about offending him...but yeah she did worry a little.

 

"So...you went to see the Great Ponce..." he prompted after a moment of her staring vacantly into space and she replied simply.

 

"...They took me to meet him...like it was a present or something...like unveiling a new car, this years model...and they all watched and waited for me to do...something...like opening up presents on Christmas morning but you're really not in the right mental or emotional space for it and so all the ‘thanks’ come out flat and what am I supposed to do with a pencil sharpener? ‘Ooh that's great...thanks...that..that will really come in...handy...somewhere...sometime...’"         

 

She stopped at the sound of the mans suppressed laughter and then muttered.

 

"Not really that funny..."                

 

"Oh it is...it is..." he insisted and then after she reflected back on the scene she said.          

 

"Well...yeah...o.k. it kinda is...sorta like coming back from a trip to Mars and someone gives you a pet rock from Earth...I mean it’s a gift and that’s great...but what does it mean? What am I supposed to so with that after where I’ve been? Whatever...it was a dud..I remember nothing..."               

 

This sobered him up.

 

"Sorry luv, truly..."

 

"See? Stuff like that...you talk to me as if you know me...but I don't remember and just how well do we...or rather how well did you know her...whoever I was...or she was...and is there a name to go with your package?"              

 

He choked. Still the same Buffy, still the same soul and spirit, heart and mind and he had his answer to the question that had set him out to track her and so he would give her hers.

 

"We were enemies...mortal enemies..." and he watched her stiffen as he said that and then went on.                  

 

"Then we tolerated each other and then we worked together and then we became friends...and we went through battles together and watched each others back and I haven't seen you for years and then I heard about your...predicament and then I came to see you and you were gone and so I went to find you. To see if it's still you."

 

That was the first time someone had asked such a thing...her memory was gone...and was she still this person called Buffy without her memory?

 

"And?"                                         

 

"And it's you...whatever you wanna call yourself...however you wanna cut your hair..." and here he gestured toward her nearly shaven head and her hand went absently to stroke the short locks she had left. All that long gold hair had irritated her. Almost like it was commanding her to be to be this Miss Buffista and so she had cut it off in a mini revolution and that at least, had felt...familiar...but here this man was still talking.

 

"It's still you. With or without your memory...you're still you."

 

She looked at him--she hadn’t wanted think about that, but, yeah, it was comforting to hear.                       

 

"And did you know her well enough to tell if there's a difference?"

 

He noted the use of 'her' and nodded.

 

"Yeah...I did...I do...you go through the wars together and you’ll know someone inside and out."                       

 

That felt right, that felt true. She didn't remember him...but she felt good sitting here next to him and so she believed him. So they had been friends of a kind and suddenly she asked him and she was surprised herself at the question.         

 

"What do I do? What if it never comes back? What if I never remember my...sister or...Giles or anybody?"

 

He paused and took a sip of beer and then answered slowly.

 

"Well...then there's the beauty, the wonder and gift of learning it all over again, isn't there? Seen Star Wars yet?"                                                             

 

"There's a war?" She asked, shocked and a little afraid.

 

"No...no..." he resisted the urge to chuckle, to keep his face straight "No, it's a flick...but you get to see it for the first time, don't you then? And plenty more things...better things...all new..."                         

 

She thought about that.      

 

"But...I'm almost thirty or so they say...I can't be like a clean slate and child all over again..."                  

 

And here he leaned forward.

 

"Buffy...Buffy luv, if your mind doesn't remember...your heart does...how do you feel when you look at Dawn? How do you feel when you see the moon? It's all gotta go somewhere...all your experiences go somewhere, it's not lost, your heart remembers what it needs to, right?"                 

 

She had been reflecting as he spoke, thinking back to the things that felt familiar, that felt good and yes...yes...he had something there.

 

"So we've done this before--held each others hand while the other vomited on the rug?"

 

Now he did laugh outright.             

 

"So to speak."                              

 

And she laughed too.                    

 

"I like you...um...uh...what exactly should I call you?"

 

If he seemed disappointed he hid it well.

 

"What would you like to call me?"

 

"You mean I get to name you?"                

 

"You can try."                               

 

She leaned back against the fake leather upholstery in the booth, that made a minny squeak on vinyl as if to accent her pondering as she rolled her eyes...

 

"Let's see, you show up out of nowhere...you're one of...you're a vampire, but more like Casper the ghost, friendly--"

 

"Ouch."                              

 

"You're a bit touchy about your persona, bit vain about your hair..."

 

"Some things never change.." he muttered

 

"You're funny and sweet but I'm betting...you can throw a mean punch..."

 

"Make one too..." and here he dropped the shot of tequila in her beer.

 

She smiled and swirled her beer with her index finger and then inserted it into her mouth and then slowly, so slowly pulled it out all the while looking him directly in the eye.    

 

He gulped.                         

 

"And we've had sex."

 

He was staring at the little bow of her mouth, at her wet red lower lip.

 

"Lots of sex." she amended watching his face.

 

"You...remember?"             

 

"Not exactly...but I feel very comfortable with you...very...familiar...and also...your eyes got really big...like this..."

 

And here she demonstrated by popping her eyes open wide and then laughed her first really good laugh...in how long? Ah me...

 

"My name is Spike." he said softly and as he looked into her eyes her heart sped up and her laugh softened to a smile on her lips.

 

"Hello Spike."                               

 

"Hello Buffy."           

 

 

*                            

 

 

They chatted for a while and then they played pool and they drank, well, Buffy drank two more beers and Spike had four and then Buffy made him drop his fifth to a crash on the floor when after making his last shot and yes he was kicking her ass she came in close and looked up into his eyes and asked softly.

 

“So, what was it like for me to have sex with a dead guy?”

 

The beer crash brought all eyes to the back of the room, but Spike was oblivious to all as he looked into Buffy’s eyes.               

 

“Ah...what are you really asking?”

 

Buffy shook her head, but she was more than a little drunk and so she lost her balance a bit and Spike had to reach out to catch her from falling.

 

“Nnnothing...” she slurred and almost mangled the word, “Seems a civil qhuestion...hey! My tongue is getting big...” and here she pulled the afore mentioned little pink appendage out of her mouth to look at it.                             

 

“Won’t come out far enough,” she giggled. “Stuck back in there somewhere...I can give it a watering though...little drinky and maybe it will grow” and then she stuck her tongue into the wide mug of beer and let it swish and swim about in the golden brew.

 

Spike gulped.

 

“I am absolutely not sober enough for this floor show...not nearly.” He muttered

 

“Lookee fishy...” Buffy tried to say while she was wiggling her tongue but then collapsed into slurps and snorts. 

 

“Oops..got some up my nose...I think...” She turned to look at Spike who was still staring at her mouth and then she watched his gaze slip down to her breasts. She followed his gaze and saw her black shirt had come unbuttoned revealing the swell and sweet pink tip of one small white breast.

 

She opened her shirt to get a better look at what he was staring at.

 

“Yeah...no bra...these breasts are so small...don’t really need one, you think? You would not believe the amount of lacy underthings Buffy...I mean me...whhhatever had, has...don’t know why, seems like dressing up to stay home if you ask me, I mean, look at these breasts, jhhust look...”

 

And here she pushed her shirt back a little more to reveal the bosom in debate and Spike hissed and stepped between her the rest of the bar while grabbing the side of her shirt and pulling it closed. He buttoned her up with trembling fingers, all the while conscious of her staring up at him.               

 

When she spoke again she still sounded plastered but her voice was softer.     

 

“Your mouth maybe...and your eyes...”

 

“‘Was’ that luv?” Spike asked as he buttoned

 

“Your mouth looks real and your eyes do too...’M trying to figure out why I would sleep with a dead guy, cuz ugh...gross...right? I mean no offense. You’re..well...”

 

And then she touched his arm and came to a full stop. Her fingers skimmed his forearm and then fascinated at the pull, at the sudden electric connection between them, she stopped speaking and ran her fingers all the way up his arms and said softly.

 

“Wow...well there’s another reason...” she said softly

 

Spike knew he should stop this, he knew it...but still her touch on him was, oh god, it was almost...medicinal, even this, the lightest of perusals, was a sweet balm, a place to rest.

 

Her hand was now at his shoulder and coming down to his chest, there was a jangle of coin behind them and then the jukebox began to play an old standard...

 

‘Something in the way she moves...

Attracts me like no other lover...

Something in the way she moves me...’              

 

Spike looked down into her upturned face, at her glazed bright eyes on his and they were so close it was nothing, no effort, no work at all to put his arm around her and draw her into his embrace. She moved her left hand up over his shoulder and wrapped it in an easy crook around his neck and left her right arm hanging loose down at her side–and so half in, half out they moved together, swayed gently to the music.

 

“You’re asking me if our lov’ll grow...

I don’t know, I don’t know...

Well stick around...”                                

 

And so George sang to them as they did the half dance only the deeply inebriated are capable of doing–part moan, part mourning, mostly wanting to stretch this small moment into a private oblivion.

 

Spike said nothing, he simply rested his cheek against her temple as she tucked her head up under his chin.               

 

“Dif you effver meet him?”

 

She asked into his chest.               

 

“Who, luv?”             

 

“The guy singing...O.K. maybe I have forgotten some things but not everything–he’s a British guy, you’re British; he’s been around, you’ve been around, so...mahbee you been around each other?”

 

“No, never met George Harrison...could have a few times...but didn’t want Dru to get tempted...”

 

“Dru?”

 

“Yeah...my...don’t really wanna talk about Dru right now, luv...”

 

“O.K.” Buffy said simply and she readjusted her face so that now she was looking up at him.

 

“You smell good. Thas–what I was doing–I was smelling you...”

 

Spike almost laughed but bit it back–a drunk Buffy was...well like Buffy times ten.      

 

“Why you smell so good?”             

 

“Why do you smell so good?” He asked her instead of answering.

 

“No fair, I asked you first...”                    

 

“I don’t play fair...” He advised sagely.

 

“Huh! I believe that!” She snorted

 

The music changed suddenly to Elvis Costello exclaiming:

 

“Pump it up!

When you don’t even need it!

Pump it up!”            

 

Spike winced–like he really needed that particular encouragement in his ear.

 

And with the music change Buffy’s mood changed too...her hand was bolder now, hotter and was traveling down his chest slowly, giving him a chance to stop her if he wanted...

 

He had to stop her–she was drunk, she didn’t know what she was doing, who she was...

 

His hand stopped hers just at the belt line.

 

“Lemme touch you Spike...” She breathed into his neck. “Better yet...lemme see...”  

 

“Buffy...” he whispered.                

 

“Don’t ‘Buffy’ me, I don’t even know who that is...”

 

“All the more reason–“                                  

 

“–To forget about her. I’m here, I’m me and I’m tired of being treated like I gotta be watched ehfvery, ehfvery second...I know what I’m doing.”

 

“You’ve got your own qualms about dead guys, though, isn’t that right?”

 

“Well O.K.. Dead Guy then, be that way, so now what? Are you supposed to make me go back or something?”                     

 

He smiled.               

 

"Hard to imagine 'making' you do something contrary to the way your feet wanna walk, luv...but...I would like to watch your back, if you don’t mind, just while you're figuring it all out..."                     

 

She watched and finally she sighed.

 

"I left to...just feel life...to try to do something ordinary...like get laid...it’s supposed to be reallllly great or something...or so say the books and movies..."

 

Spike blanched a little at that but said nothing.              

 

"So...O.K. then, you don’t want me to touch you so, O.K....come on and help me pick out a guy...." she shrugged and then pulled away from him and then continued brightly.

 

"It’s O.K. it’s all good...that's cool...who better than you to help me pick somebody out--you are a guy after all...or were...oh and I don't know what the correct PC thing is with reformed vampires and we were friends so let's skip past that and wwhhataya say you help me pick out a nice guy...hmm?"                                 

 

He watched her carefully and then said softly.

 

"You're angry."                   

 

"What, at you? No...I don't think so...well, mahybee--you said you didn't want me...and right now I wanna to be wanted...and you held my hand for a minute and...thanks...but I need something more, Spike...I wanna feel something bigger than myself, I wanna feel one of the reasons that are supposed to make living worthit...so...why am I explaining this to you? What do you think about that guy over there...the one with the blonde hair, I don’t know, there is something about blond hair that’s doing it for me, rings some kind of bell ..."

 

Spike looked out toward where she gestured...he couldn't help it.

 

"What? Plaid? Plaid bloke? Luv, lemme set you straight, blokes who wear many little colored boxes don't know where to put it...if you take my meaning..."

 

She laughed...she didn't want to...but she did anyway, Spike was funny.

 

"O.K. what about blue jean guy...with the brown hair..."

 

Spike shrugged..."Blue jeans...are alright...but pet...take a gander at the angle of how he's holding his ass..."

 

Buffy looked at him and then back at the young man in blue jeans and blue shirt standing at the bar and angled her head to get a better look and Buffy observed:

 

"He's holding it out kinda...pert and..."

 

"And...uh huh...yeah, he won't be much help to you in the mood you’re in..."

 

"Oh." Buffy bit her lip. "Well...nobody else looks..."

 

"Biteable...yeah...I wouldn't if I were you..."

 

"That whhas supposed to be funny...right? Not...like a real ahhssessment, right?"

 

Spike shrugged but kept his eyes off hers.

 

“O.K. well I’m gonna go for the blonde one and take my chances...”

 

And with that she started to stumble/walk away.

 

Spike stood there at the back of the bar behind the pool table where she had left him and watched her go, just watched her and sure enough, when she got to the bar she slipped a quick glance over her shoulder at him as if to say.

 

‘Look...see...I’m doing it...here I am, three feet away from the blonde bloke, two feet now...touch hand on his elbow...he’s turning around and smiling at me now. See?’

 

And then Buffy turned her full attention to the young man at the bar who was indeed smiling down at her from the perch on his stool.

 

Spike did a slow broil. He cracked his neck and picked up his pool cue and then cracked at the first ball handy to smack into the next and when they all split and went nowhere, no pockets, nada...he stopped and pulled in a deep long breath that would go nowhere too.

 

He was not her sitter or keeper or jailer, he had learned long ago to respect her wishes and her will and so no he would not chase her or stop her from doing what she wanted and he said all this like a mantra, like reading off a code he had writ deep inside himself.

 

“There was somebody else...”                  

 

She said it softly and her voice was still slurred somewhat but more alert and then she added softly:

 

“That was stupid of me.”               

 

Spike shrugged, but he did not look up from the pool table as he said tightly.

 

“You do what you want, you always do what you want–can’t fault you for it. It’s an asset. One of your best, in my opinion...what you want is not always what I want though...”          

 

“There was somebody else...” She said again; keeping her original thought, wondering now.

 

“That’s why you let me go over there. Deep down, you expected her to leave you...and so when it happened...it hurt, but it’s what you ehhxpected, to happen and so it did and all cuz of the low opinion who have of yourself.”

 

“I din’t call you cuz you have the right to choose–“

 

“How can I choose when you leave me starving to death? And I mean to death?”

 

There was a pause and then Spike shook his head and said softly.

 

“We’re talking about two different things.”                    

 

“We are talking about the same thing in different ways.”

 

His brow pulled together as he tried to puzzle that out and then decided on the succinct rejoinder of:

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

“Well...duh...yeah!” She agreed.

 

And then they laughed together and she was walking her wobbly line towards him again.

 

She grabbed a couple of balls from the pool table and clinked them together as she walked and then threw them back on the table.

 

“Oh aye...watch my balls...” Spike called out

 

And then her eyes went to his crotch and her brows pulled together in avid concentration.

 

“O.K.” She agreed.                       

 

Quiet, as Spike tapped the cue stick against the pool table.

 

“Buffy, you cannot keep playing this game with me, I can’t play with you like that–“

 

“I’m not playing...Spike...”                                          

 

She was now only a few feet away and said slowly as she moved closer.

 

“You know what? That guy at the bar smelled funny, he smelled...ughh...pftuhhy...”

 

And here she waggled her tongue in her mouth and shook her head as if that would shake the residue away from her senses...               

 

“Everybody smells funny to me...or slightly off..like it’s gonna go bhhad any day...I can barely stand to be arhhound anybody.”

 

Spike watched her eyes, her lips, as he felt the vibration of her every footstep move through the floorboards to re-tune his bones–she was talking softly to him now, purring her words to him.              

 

“Except you...you smell so good, I wanna put you in my mouth and swallow you down...”

 

“Buffy...”

 

"Will you make love to me?"

 

Spike looked down at the floor and then up into her eyes.

 

"I...didn't come to find you for that...you don't know what you're asking."

 

She looked at him...her face quiet, her eyes big.

 

"I don't remember anything...anything...a year now maybe and my memory hasn't come back and it makes me feel dhhense or something, like somebody keeps telling jokes, I don’t get–except you, you make me laugh, I make you laugh and laughing ehquals good....and I dunno what to do about anything...and seeing you already know me...and we're friends...I won't really disappoint you or anything...will I?"

 

"Buffy..." he said again "You're drunk, luv..."

 

"No I'm not...well mhhaybe...but maybe that's just so I could get up the nerve to ask you."

 

There was a silence between them and a softness in the air that begged for contact. He had to touch her, he had to ease the growing crease on her forehead.

 

He stroked the side of her face and leaned down to kiss her cheek–

 

–She moved her head slightly and instead of the friendly peck she caught his mouth with hers and once touched he was stuck, helpless, glued into her and moaning for more. 

 

She caught his searching lips with hers and the sudden shock of electric fusion glued them quite together while the first volley ran it's course. He leaned down into her and drank her sweetness like a man starving...and she turned belly up to the slow but growing request from his heart. The feel, the sound of his heart rejoicing sped into her like a trumpet sounding and her heart hammered and she quivered inside herself as she trembled in the enormous infinity of the thing. She pulled back on a gasp.

 

He had wound his arms around her and she had entwined her hands in his hair and she looked into his eyes drugged with heartfelt sensation and said.

 

"Oh god...you...love her...me...you love me..."

 

Slowly his eyes focused on her and he stroked her face but said nothing.

 

"Where....where have you been? If you love me...if we love..."

 

He leaned his head and rested his crown against hers.

 

"It's a bit complicated..."                         

 

"Detangle..."                      

 

He sighed and pulled away from her...might as well tell her.

 

"You...went a different way...I can't say why...I don't rightly know...I think maybe....I loved you more than...what you might have felt for me..."

 

She slowly touched her lips with her fingertips...and felt the tingling that wasn't fading and she breathed deep and felt the throng beginning to pound in her womb...and the warm spiral spinning out from her heart to soften her bones and asked:

 

"Was I nuts?"                               

 

He laughed.

 

She didn't.

 

She moved closer to him and when he saw the look on her face he sobered up right quick.

 

"Now...Buffy...now...just slow down..."

 

"I...haven't felt anything...anything like this since I came back blank and I don't remember anything like this from before...it feels good to feel something so good...and now you want me to...slow down...don't....don't you feel it?"

 

"Buffy...luv...I always feel it...it's not me...it's you...I don't...want you to...hate me...I couldn't bear that...and you chose...to go a different way than me luv...you did..."     

 

She was in front of him and slowly raised her hand and rested it on his upper arm...

 

The warm contact and soft current was immediate...

 

"Oh...god...Buffy..."

 

She looked into his eyes, the wide warm soft eyes that felt like someplace safe and whispered.               

 

"I don't know about her...what she wanted...I'm me now...please...I just wanna feel something real..."

 

The familiarity of that phrase startled him and he held her away from him, held her at arms length while he looked into her eyes.

 

"This just isn't about you Buffy...I'm...I'm not a pillow you can pick up and put down when you want a soft lie down..."

 

"Please...I...please..." and here her eye welled with the tears she was fighting to hold inside. "Please...I've been so lonely...nothing feels real to me...and this does...please....could you hold me?"                

 

This he could do.

 

He relaxed and she moved into his arms and he wrapped her up into his embrace as she tucked her head up under her chin like her body knew just what to do. She sighed and pushed into him and breathed these words a little smushed against this chest.

 

"She was nuts...and I'm me...and...I'm not."

 

He said nothing but stroked her hair and gently kissed the side of her head.

 

They stayed that way for a while breathing each others spirit in like the elixir of life that is was. Spike leaned in and inhaled the sweet scent of her, the flower of her that he had never smelled from any other person any other woman...it permeated every cell of his being and felt like, like he was being fed some sweet spring water to help him grow.

 

Buffy...ah...Buffy my lovely love...

 

She must have carried flowers from heaven when she had come back, for her scent had been marked ever since with the heady stuff that could transform men’s souls from the inside out. Just being around her...just the scent of her soul...this was life. He breathed her in and was just barely aware that she was doing the same with him.

 

Spice and light salt and tang and the sea...yes the cleansing scent of the salty sea cleaning off the aura, cleaning out the works of a troubling world...that's what he smelled like...and it stirred something in her that felt like a memory...she reached for it...but it slipped away...and she was left with a sense memory...that sensation of familiar...of home...

 

Finally she leaned back and looked at him and then pulled slightly away as they looked at each other...

 

They understood each other better now and so she asked simply:

 

“Do you want me?”

 

“Buffy..”        

 

“Do you want me?”

 

He looked into her eyes, his gaze roamed about her face and finally rested on her red lips like a hot bow on the present of herself.

 

“Yes....” He finally whispered.

 

“Then take me.” she whispered into him, “...now, here...anywhere...take me...”

 

God, had she any idea of the effect these words had on a man, let alone a vampire?

 

“Spike...” she whispered but before she could finish

 

His mouth seized hers in a burning kiss, melding his mouth into hers--she had spoken his name in her mouth, she had invited him in and so he went and now his tongue was inside her too, testing, tasting. now pulling back long enough to moan her name only to plunge back in to drink her again.

 

Buffy’s world was spinning, there was music blaring from the jukebox–a mindless pounding beat and she was being plumbed and perused and she went limp in his arms, her knees going soft and she would have fallen save for his tight grip around her waist, down now, his hands greedy for the plump of her buttocks to lift her now and push her against his hard body, electrifying hers.

 

She couldn’t think, only feel and press herself tighter against him, her hand slipping down to his crotch to touch him there, press gently, tentatively, awed at the electric pulse pounding there...                    

 

He groaned into her mouth.

 

“God...oh...for god’s sake...” he muttered

 

Suddenly he pushed her away from him and she swayed, bereft at the loss of the mountain of him, and now he was half carrying her, half dragging her from the back room and into the small hallway and then amid the din of the music and bar blast he opened the door of the restroom went inside and pulled her in after him. She heard the sound of a deadbolt sliding and then he was kissing her again and she wound her arms up around his neck, her hands now in his hair, jerking his head back so she could pull away from his mouth to give her space to lean in and bite his neck and he yoweled a deep animal, elemental sound, she was biting him hard enough to almost penetrate the surface of his flesh and desperate now, he slammed her against the bathroom wall...there was a crack of plaster that felt like the cymbal crash of the homecoming band and as he lifted her up she wrapped her legs around his hips and he reached up under her short skirt and yanked hard at the slim bit of lingerie in the way of immanent train slamming into station consummation and with her name a plead, a crying need on his lips, she bit deeper into his neck until he lost himself in his need to be inside her, and so with the crown of his head against the wall and Buffy’s body writhing and bucking against him he slammed her again to keep her still just long enough to find her opening and then push hard breaking her tender membrane and then all the way up inside her; she bit deeper into his neck to stifle her scream of pain/pleasure/primal relief and Spike froze for a moment at the shock of breaking her maidenhood, of taking her in such a way, (she been going without for so long, Slayer healing had sealed her again? But that would mean years, wouldn’t it?) but now her body began to move against his; and all thought faded very fast, for she was moving gently first, sweetly seeking, seeking the sides and size of him inside her and then with a suction force of nature pulling him up higher, closer, tighter, Buffy released his neck and leaned back against the wall and looked into his eyes. Her eyes were still glazed, still hot and drunk but drinking him in too...His were desperate, a wild animal trapped with no where to run or hide except higher inside her.

 

She whispered through barley parted lips but he couldn’t hear what it was and then her hand stroked his cheek gently and then wound back to grab his hair tight as he began to push and then pound into her until she cracked and exploded and banged on his back with both fists until he came, until he shot his jism into her sobbing, and kissing her now all around her hair her face, murmuring his love, his love, his love and when he pulled back to look into her face, he saw a deep warm canyon inside her smile him home and then as he watched, her eyes slowly closed, her body went limp and she sagged against him.     

 

She had passed out.

 

Bloody hell.

 

He leaned his cheek against the side of her head now lolling on his shoulder and then kissed her head softly as his senses spun ‘round the cosmos.

 

Not bloody hell...

 

Blessed heaven.

 

 

 

*

 

 

When she awoke she was in the dark, somewhere in the dark lying flat on her back and there was dark all around her and she knew a moment of pure terror, the sense recall of something so terrible it couldn’t be named.

 

Where am I? What’s happening?

 

Eyes wide open now she was staring at...at a ceiling. There was enough light to make that out...she looked to the right of her and saw the soft faint light of early morning sneaking through the tops of the curtain to soften the dark. She looked to the left of her and saw the vampire lying partway on his stomach part way on her, his arm on the sheet across her body.

 

He was naked.

 

Her head was pounding something only a heavy metal band would call tuneful and that might certainly dull her perceptions but not enough to send a confused message to Buffy brain because yes, she could quite clearly see that he was naked. Naked back, nudie butt, long muscular legs...and so was she.

 

She was under the sheet and he was not...but yeah, there was a naked girl here and it was her.              

 

Her throat felt so, so dry and her head hurt so, so bad and...and others parts too...body stiff all over and...um down there...kinda sore down there, but mostly it was a nice kind of stiff–like how muscles felt after a work out.

 

After a work out???

 

And then slowly, slowly through the haze and maze of cloudy places in Buffy brain, bits and bites were coming back to her.

 

Her hand went quickly up to her own throat...clean...little bruised maybe, love sucks maybe...but not, you know, the other thing...she turned to look at the Vampire lying next to her and from the way his face was angled toward her, she could see the imprint of a bite on him though.                       

 

She winced. Oh yeah...oh...yes...oh boy...

 

Still, there was this pleasant feeling about her now...this easing of the body, this curled up kitten quality of having been fed all she wanted from the best bowl of cream and so she leaned back and let herself remember.

 

The bar, the drinks, playing pool, playing games, Spike, more drinks, Spike’s hair...needing to touch Spike’s face his body...needing something big to fill up the bigger empty...Spike, pushing her up against the wall somewhere and him filling her...her first time. First sex. Wow.                      

 

Didn’t remember this room though...this was not her motel room...didn’t remember getting naked. So what else was there?

 

“Morning, luv...”

 

Said a rich low voice from the direction of where the naked vampire lay.

 

She turned and looked and he had turned slightly now and was lying on his side looking at her just as peaceable as you please. She looked down the length of his body, couldn’t help it and when her eyes rested on the plump protuberance, the bit of man flesh, it began to grow in front of her eyes. Wow. Old fashioned natural magic. Her eyes widened to almost popping as she watched his man wand double in length and breath.

 

Guess that was why he was called ‘Spike.’

 

She gulped and looked back up at Spike’s face, he was smiling gently.

 

“Kinda does that when you look at it.”

 

“Really? That could become...annoying...”

 

He lifted his head and crooked one arm up and rested his head on his hand.

 

“Hmm...not really, quite pleasant actually, only becomes annoying with no hidey hole about.”                              

 

Buffy gulped.

 

“Oh yeah, is that so?”

 

“Too true...but you know about need don’t you, luv?” He asked this softly not meaning offense and oh yes she did, she did.

 

“So it’s pleasant? Having that big thing hanging off you like that?”

 

“Hmm...yes indeed...you wanna feel to make certain? Make sure nothing’s amiss in my corner...”

 

Actually she did. Ever since it popped up jack rabbit fast, in the best Jack and the bean stalk tradition...oh is that why they called it: ‘jacking off.’ Oohhh. Another mystery explained.

 

“You wouldn’t mind?” She asked politely.

 

Spike almost choked on a stifled laugh but managed.

 

“No...nah, can’t say as that I’d mind at ‘tall...”

 

And so she rolled over slightly on her left side, and still holding the covers to her naked breasts she reached her right hand out and touched him gently. She had decided on touching the middle part fist...she heard Spike make a little puff...but she had touched him so lightly that couldn’t have hurt–

 

“Ah..it’s...O.K. luv, give us a tug...” he whispered.

 

And so mesmerized by the size and shape of him, she couldn’t help herself and grabbed him again, this time around the base, and when she heard Spike gasp softly she asked:

 

“You like that? Just that little bitty grab?“ Buffy asked in genuine puzzlement

 

“Yes...luv, I like that quite a bit...you really don’t remember do you?”

 

“Well I’ve seen pictures and stuff but it doesn’t really compare to seeing one up close and in color and yeah this is the first time I’ve ever touched one...thanks, by the way...”

 

“No problem, pet, thas’ me lot in life, always willing to provide a social service...but this isn’t the first--time...last night...”

 

She looked up at him, noting his dilated eyes, his shortening breath his hand now gently stroking her short hair and then he continued.

 

“There was last night...” He finished finally.

 

Buffy swallowed and looked perplexed as she thought back.

 

“Please do not tell me that you don’t remember–does your memory problem include some short term memory loss?”                        

 

“No...I mean...sometimes...some things...”

 

And then still stroking his member, still holding him like a beloved new pet (just couldn’t seem to let go). She looked up into his face, it seemed so important to him that she remember.

 

“Well...now that you mention it...there are blanks...I remember the bar and um...what happened there...but...Spike, just where are my clothes?”

 

He looked around the room.

 

“Some over there, a few bits over there by the dresser...not much left of them...you can borrow mine to go get your gear, not much left of mine either, I expect, you...well...you tore the shirt off me back, pet...would have given it you and never mind the cliche...but you seemed to have something else in mind...we’ll work it out between what’s left...if that’s what’s got you worried...”

 

“I should be worried, waking up with a stranger, not to mention Vampire, totally naked and only remembering bits of last night...but...I’m not...I...”

 

And here his hard erect penis twitched in her grip.

 

“What was that?”

 

”Just me being near you, luv, well I’m glad you feel safe...um...just remember that when last night starts coming back to you...ahh...oh god, Buffy...that’s good, right there...yes, luv, like that...”        

 

She had started stroking him harder, pulling from the base down the shaft and back up again and then harder and faster...

 

“Tell me about last night Spike...did we do this?”

 

And here she jerked him hard toward her until his mouth was next to hers...

 

“Not exactly like that...” he managed, but we did this...

 

And here he leaned in and kissed her so sweetly, so softly, with such...love, she let go of her new best new toy as her hand came up to touch the side of his face, his lips and she said softly.                     

 

“You loved her...a lot...I remember that..”

 

“I love you...a lot...” he said amended softly

 

“Why?” She asked just as soft.

 

His hand came up to her shoulder, and he ran his fingers lightly down her arm like setting a rainbow free inside her. It was so sweet, so kind, her head stopping hurting.

 

He healed her. Just like that, all better and the air was so sweet and precious they both paused to play it like a beloved old tune.

 

“That’s why...” he said simply.

 

Buffy leaned forward and kissed him softly, searching his mouth with her lips, tasting him and he relaxed and let her touch where she wanted and how she wanted. He had gotten his fill last night and was in no hurry.

 

She had come back to consciousness of a sort almost as soon as he got them both safely into this motel room. But she had been a hell cat hungry and yowling and tearing at his clothes to take him again and again and he had gladly obliged her.

 

He had recognized it as the Slayer in hiding...consciousness stripped away and with no alert Buffy to temper her, the Slayer spirit stormed to the fore raw and hungry and roaring. He has seen glimpses of course, in the days of his affair with Buffy and so he knew better than anyone why she rarely drank and why she kept herself so tightly in check–and also why she needed to have a man in her life. She had needed sex to feed the Slayer and she needed love to feed her soul and so it seems these past few years she had gone without both...but why?                                           

 

At any rate, his demon had been...well, delighted was too light a word, ‘screaming hello and hallelujah ’more likely at the opportunity to come out full force and mate with it’s match. Maybe it was just as well Buffy didn’t remember the things they had done...Spike smiled though and sighed.

 

Buffy felt him smile beneath her kisses and leaned back to look at him.

 

“What?” She asked             

 

“Love you, thas’ all, thas’ it...every bit of you–the wild beast of you and you here like this...you are a hell of a woman, my Buffy , my love...”

 

What could she possibly say to that?

 

"She hurt you."                             

 

Well that was a conversation opener.

 

His eyes flicked down but he didn't turn to look at her, he said nothing. It wasn't a question.

 

"She hurt you."                             

 

She said again and even though it was still a statement it leaned toward being a question.

 

Spike looked into himself and finally said.            

 

"How do you figure something as complex as love? Into ‘she did that’, ‘he did that’? People are themselves...they act from something inside that no one else can see. Something told her to move away...and she listened to that. Demons aside, she herself wouldn't hurt a pup or a kit, she was honest to her nature..."

 

And here he turned to look at her and said:

 

"She didn't hurt me luv, love hurt me."

 

Buffy looked at him and then looked away.

 

“So if...love hurt you...what does that mean? What is love and why is it so great if it hurts?"

 

Spike chuckled.

 

"I'm fairly new to it all pet, real love that is, the forever unchangeable thing, that is; and I’m not the best research resource about that, am I then? I thought I loved Dru forever...but it wasn't...she made me crazy and jealous and drove me round the bend...I loved you--"

 

"Her--"                                                                                 

 

"You...her, yeah I get that---but I know now that it's your soul I love...seeing you tonight, whatever shape you came back in...I would love...it doesn't hurt me to say I love you...because it's good...you have only brought me good, helped me want to be better...but love means...I want you to be happy...more than me..."           

 

Buffy leaned back on the bed and he continued talking gently.

 

"So love may have hurt me by keeping me away from you...but love saved me too...and which thread would you pull out of the works if you could? Undo one and undo all. Life' s a package my love, a true package."                      

 

Buffy said nothing at that and then finally turned to look at him.

 

"Will you let me stay here with you today? I take it you sleep during the day."          

 

"I was hoping that was decided."                   

 

Spike raised himself and pulled up the blanket on the end of the bed to cover her body and when he started to leave the bed she rested her hand on his arm.

 

"Stay please..." she felt him hesitate and then added quickly. "I won't try anything..." muttering under her breath. "Don't remember how..."               

 

He chuckled and then relaxed next to her and she turned on her side so that she could face him...this felt...very good.             

 

She saw her hand go up to stroke his face, to enjoy the smooth cool skin...her fingers drifting down to trace his lips and her brow pulled together as if she was trying to add 5,426.25 plus 467 in her head.                 

 

He looked down into the eyes that he thought he might never see again and just let it be fine for the moment.

 

"I...don't know why she left you...I don't...but...you must be feeling this thing happening between us...and something like this doesn't just spring like Athena from the mind of Zeus..."                                                                      

 

He cocked his head to look at her....what was she on about?

 

"What I'm trying to say..." she breathed. "Is, she loved you....she had to...or else it wouldn’t be inside me now like this...and I know that...cuz...cuz don't you feel this?"

 

And then there was a soft frisson of air so sweet it was grass growing and wind blowing and he was young again, a child again and everything was new.

 

Spike leaned back to look at her, watch her carefully, his heart a tremble as she said slowly:

 

"I certainly don't feel this way about anybody else I've met...or even the cute little baby seals at the zoo...and they are blockbuster cute...so..."

 

She leaned back on the bed and pulled him closer.

 

"Like you said...everything I felt has to go somewhere...and whatever it is I felt for you...is here...cuz this kinda of thing just doesn’t grow over night or because you are a monster genius in the sack."            

 

They looked into each other for a moment and then Spike rested his head on her chest and sighed.                    

 

He listened to the sound of her heartbeat and he was vaguely aware of her fingers stroking his hair as kept his face averted from hers and then the odd thought...huh, her breasts are larger...it was hard to tell in that baggy shirt, guess he had been a little, well...distracted, last night. Unconsciously he nuzzled against her breasts and she drew in a sharp breath and her hand suddenly seized his hair.

 

He felt her shift her body beneath him as she flattened her back and spread her legs on automatic. It was a small spread, just the parting of the knees and so little, so little--but it was the ancient green light, it was the come hither and impale me my man, it was the come in, come in...

 

Spike was lost, he lost it that quickly and she couldn't see his face but she heard the low guttural growl of man and might and no stopping now. That fast. it happened that fast.

 

He shifted his weight and put himself between her legs, pushing the hard length of his throbbing erection up against her and even under the cover of blanket and clothes the hard heat of him buried in his cool body that begged to become undone in her. He pulled back to look her eyes.                               

 

They were both sober now, no alcohol, no cover, no Slayer spirit and Demon running amuck, no mindless happenstance.                

 

She looked into his deep soft expression burning now with the hard question...as he pressed his body up against hers again and held it there a hot shock went through her and she wrapped her arms up around his neck and whispered.

 

"Yes..."                              

 

And then she was rubbing the space between his shoulder blades and he felt his soul grow warm and move into her fingers and into herself and now she whispered something soft, so soft it was caress and beckoning...

 

"William...please..."                       

 

He buried his sob on her breast, kissing her right mound and then pulling the sheet down far enough to lick and suckle the erect pink tip and her body arched and thrust toward him and frustrated by the cloth that came between them, he ripped the covers all the way off and looked at her naked body at her breasts, at her chest heaving and then all the way up to her flushed face and then slowly leaned down and suckled her left breast this time, just to be fair to both of his pets and her body jack knifed and she sobbed as she gripped the back of his head...

 

"Spike...please...I need..."

 

He raised his head and leaned in to close his mouth over hers and she yowled her cat heat sound into him and he exploded into action. He pushed the rest of the bed clothes out reach and as he pulled slightly away to reach down to grip both sides of her hips, he felt Buffy’s hands on his back and then her nails gripping into him to hold him fast. As if he was going anywhere.

 

He felt her seizing the hard length of his shaft and guiding him to her..he grabbed her hand and pinned it over her head while he leaned back to insert himself thank you very much and he almost choked when he felt her wet heat part in the subtle gesture of an opening flower to close around him, and now her left hand was beating a demand on his back like a tom, tom through Spike flesh to his very soul.

 

There was no way he could come back from this and be anything, anyone like he had been before, this was it, naked soul to soul and so undone into each other he would never be able to go back to who had been, to his small place of peace, but he couldn’t go through this alone, oh no he could not--she would need to come with him right here and now or his heart would truly break on the spot of this the most complete surrender of himself.

 

He grabbed her left arm and now held both arms up and over her head and pinned her with his body as he leaned back to look her in the face.

 

"Shh...shh..."                     

 

His voice was a sweet surprise of calm in the mad melee and Buffy slowed her thrashing head to turn and look up and into him through glazed eyes.

 

Spike, it was Spike, sweet Spike, my...

 

Buffy, love, will you let me all the way in?

 

They looked into each others eyes and Buffy’s irises slowly opened like a bud blooming into consume the willing and Spike was, he was so willing and so he entered through her eyes to meet the sweetest mystery of her heart.

 

Such a swell of love enveloped him, that he dry sobbed in shock, and so she took both sides of his face in her hands to hold him steady while he gazed into her until he absorbed every drop until he understood, until she felt him...accept her love.

 

Spike pressed his cheek up against hers, and whispered her name.

 

“Buffy...Buffy..I din’t know I swear I din’t...”

 

“Shh...shh...” she was stroking his hair, his back, his shoulders and did she need to say it?

 

Her love for him was there and stretching back and back and forward too into timeless and Spike had seen it, felt it and with or without her remembering, it was there with a life of it’s own like a north star holding steady, a fixed place in her soul through all her changes. Her love was there just waiting for him to accept.

 

He had been so intent of giving his love to her he had never imagined the second act of courage and the grace that came with saying, ‘thank you.’ Thank you for loving me.

 

How could anyone in this world accept love and not be grateful? To be loved like that was to live in constant humility and gratitude for all the things in the world. To give up complaining about anything ever again because everything, every moment, every terrible blade and heroic caress in their lives had led to this.                      

 

Spike stroked her hair gently and then leaned in and kissed her left eye and then her right eye and then with her fingers tracing his jaw line, touching the wonder of him, he kissed her mouth into hello.                

 

 

Slowly, carefully, gracefully, gratefully, they made love.

 

 

 

*

 

 

*

 

This story continues in my mind–will it ever go on paper? Who can say? But in the sequel:

Buffy Remembers Something.