Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 12: Wait and See
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Spike and Buffy stare into each other’s eyes, immobilized by emotion and confusion.

“Sp...Spike. Is it just me or was that really, really...”

“Intense?” Spike nods as he finishes her sentence. With a sharp movement, they release each other and Spike steps away, backing into the kitchen island and stopping, watching her. “I mean...that was...I, well, look at me, I can’t talk properly and you know that’s not normal.” He can still feel her hot blood flowing through him, making it truly hard to concentrate.

“It’s true.” Buffy almost whimpers. Spike is too far away. The sting of his bite on her neck is barely noticeable to her fevered brain. “Do you have any explanation for this....this?” Buffy waves her hand bet the their still naked bodies, her breath still coming short. “And for why can’t I stop wanting you?” She reaches her hand out towards him.

Spike, feeling the same compulsion, grabs her hand and yanks her off the countertop, pulling her body against his. “No, luv. I can only say I feel the same way.”

She cocks her head to the side, looking up at him. His hard body against hers derails all trains of thought. “I’ve already lost interest in analyzing it. This may not be normal, but it sure feels good...” A sly smile on her face, Buffy’s hands slip around Spike, sliding lower and lower. “Speaking of feeling good...” She squeezes a little and Spike jumps. Recovering quickly, he lowers his voice and his lips. Dragging her to breathlessness with his kiss, Spike hooks his hands under Buffy’s thighs and lifts. She firmly clamps her legs around his waist and locks hand around his neck. “Oh god, Spike. I have to have you. Now.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Spike turns and slams Buffy against the fridge. Bits of paper are dislodged by Buffy’s body. Adjusting slightly, Spike drives into her sharply with one full thrust. Lifted against the slick surface, Buffy cries out, her body desperately trying to absorb even more sensation. Her hands flail out against the fridge, wiping magnets, lists and pictures to the floor. Hearing the clatter as the magnets hit the floor and watching paper flutter by, Spike grins broadly. His thoughts on sex against the fridge were right on target. Ticker tape parade.

As Spike begins to thrust into her, Buffy is forced to grab ahold of his neck again. Spike slides one hand up on the fridge for balance as the other clutches Buffy to him. Sweat slicks the surface of her skin as they fall into a familiar rhythm, smooth and steady. Rough, then gentle, building the moment with each stroke, each cry, each kiss. Spike starts to shake as he feels the pressure mounting throughout his body. He bends to her neck, his tongue gently licks the already-closing wound. Her skin hyper-sensitive, Buffy shudders, the sensation wavering between pleasure and pain in maddening fashion. He moves his cool lips to the other side of her neck, delicately nipping his way down the column, tasting her salty skin, glistening with exertion. Spike concentrates on not coming just yet, trying to prolong the sensation. He feels Buffy’s breath on his face, as she tries to speak between thrusts. He slows, calming his raging body so he can meet her gaze. Her hazel eyes are dark in this light, unreadable. “Floor, Spike. Floor.” His eyebrows pinch together for a second, trying to fathom what she means.

Then he freezes. He backs away from the fridge, slowing their movements for a few moments. He carefully sits down on the tile, her body still wrapped around his. Buffy takes charge at that point, forcing his body down to the ground below her. They never lose contact, by the miracle of Slayer/vampire agility and strength. Buffy leans all the way forward, the ends of her blond hair brushing Spike’s face, her firm breasts tempting him from above. With one fast and hard roll of her hips, she shows who is now in control. Spike moans, strong and low at the renewed sensation. She’s so incredibly tight and warm, he can barely focus his eyes. Lifting up only slightly, Buffy undulates her hips again in one fluid motion, driving down onto him. His eyes roll back in his head as she smiles, wide and wicked. “How’s that, Spike? Intense?” She slams her hands down onto the cold tile on either side of his head, effectively trapping him beneath her taut, muscular body. She is like an animal closing in on its prey. Spike’s hands rest on her hips, rolling with the motion she continues to generate wave after wave of heat wash over him, a combination of her blood and her warmth surrounding him in a haze. He sees her chest begin to move more quickly as her breathing accelerates. Obviously, this position is not purely for his benefit. Her pace growing more and more frenetic, Buffy throws her head back, groaning. She, too, is trying to maintain the pace a bit longer. The view of her expression of ecstasy, her bare neck and her heaving breasts is very close to too much for Spike.

“Cor, pet. I won’t...make it....much... oh god.” Rising to meet her as she continues to rise and fall above him, Spike can barely speak. She knows, though. She lowers her head, eyes finding his again. They communicate more eloquently through their eyes than with their words. The unguarded, raw passion sparks between them. With a few more hard strokes, she flings him into the abyss, and then follows shortly behind, her entire body wracked with tremors. They slowly fade as she feels all the strength drain from her limbs. Her arms begin to waver and she drops onto his chest, her head resting there as exhaustion begins to take her. The aftershocks fading, Spike slips into unconsciousness with her clutched to his chest, curving his body around hers, the cold tile floor his only bed.

*****

“Okay, I never thought I would say this, but I am officially tired just watching these two. Are you worried about them at all? I mean, honestly, how many times can they have sex before they combust...or worse, can’t perform?” Psyche’s eyes widen in horror.

“Now, now, love. Handy side effect of the lust arrows. He won’t have that trouble. As for their stamina, well, luckily you picked those two. These are not sprinters, they are marathoners. Of course, they will get tired...like now.” He points at the still water, where the two in question are snuggled into each other on the kitchen floor. “Won’t stop the lust, though. They will wake up wanting each other again.” Cupid winks at his mortal love. He gestures toward Psyche conspiratorially, bringing her closer. “But here is what is truly fascinating, my dear. As the natural course of the arrows runs, their need for each other should begin to wane. In fact, it should have already begun to lessen.”

“But?” She whispers, eyes glancing over his shoulder at the sleeping couple.

“It is only building between them. Growing more and more, taking on new qualities. I sense emotion between them, not just lust. Like I said, truly fascinating. I have no explanation as yet, but I will have one. In fact, I think I will try something.” His eyes twinkle mischievously, his love for toying with the human, and in this case, undead heart, evident on his angelic face.

“Or what?”

“I will not yet shoot the love arrows. I will give the lust arrow time to fade, if it ever will with these two. And see what is left.”

“Oh darling, it’s a bit risky, isn’t it? They could kill each other out from under the effects of your magic. Remember, they hated each other with a passion.”

“Exactly. Passion. I think it is key here. I must see what happens. Ris no. no. What fun this will be!” Cupid grins, his concern for their safety far overwhelmed by his curiosity.

*****

“Buffy? Buffy, are you here? The front door was locked, so I came around the side...oh for heaven’s sake! Could you people locate some clothes?! Today?!!” Willow jumps back after entering the kitchen door and finding the two naked bodies entangled on the floor. Buffy moans. Studying the ceiling with great concentration, she nudges Buffy with her toe, trying to wake her further. “Buffy. It’s Willow. Remember me, fully-clothed friend of yours?”

Stretching her arms above her head, Buffy slowly extracts herself from Spike’s grasp. His sleep is deeper now that it is midday and he barely stirs. “Hey, Will.”

“Oh good, you’re up.” Absently, Willow drops her eyes to Buffy. To her dismay, Buffy’s movements have now fully exposed Spike‘s naked body. “Holy moley, it is not safe to look directly at people in this house anymore. Like a freakin’ solar eclipse or something.” Reaching out wildly, Willow grabs Buffy by the arm and pulls her out of the kitchen, still avoiding the naked vampire on the floor. “Did you even pick out clothes this morning, Buffy?” Buffy shakes her head, face flushing. “Wait here.” Willow disappears back into the kitchen. Buffy can hear her muttering to herself, something about “can’t talk with her breasts just looking right at me like that” and then the steps of Willow heading down into the basement. Moments later, she returns, still averting her gaze from Spike as she exits the kitchen, carrying a pair of running pants and a tank top for Buffy from the laundry. She flings them to Buffy, who quickly gets the clothes on, flinching at the contact of fabric on her sensitive and sore body.

“Let’s sit. I’ve got some things to report, if you can focus your grabby hands for a few minutes?” Buffy nods and the two begin to adjourn to the living room. Buffy glances over her shoulder as they walk away, and can just see the top of Spike’s blond head. “Uh-uh! Eyes front, missy!”

“But he’s lying on that cold floor...I should just...” Buffy starts to turn back to him, her hands burning to touch him again.

“Used to sleep on a sarcophagus, Buffy. I think he can take a few hours on kitchen tile.” Willow takes Buffy’s arm firmly, pulling her away and into the living room. They perch on the couch, facing each other. Buffy grimaces as she tries to sit Indian style, finally settling for tucking her knees under her chin. Willow rolls her eyes as she realizes the reasons for Buffy’s discomfort. “Little too much naked floor wrestling, huh?”

Blushing even harder, Buffy nods. “What did you find out?” Her mind is only half on Willow, the other half wondering if she could slip away somehow, head to the bathroom and never come back so she could get back to Spike. Things seem cold and unimportant outside his presence. Shaking her head, she brings her eyes back to her red-haired friend, who is already talking.

“...then I checked into Hosh’aar rituals, ‘cause I found a reference that those guys used to work mojo with people’s hearts. Then I realized they used actual hearts, not the metaphorical type. So then....”

“Willow. Sorry, but I need the abridged version. Any proof that something is messing with us?” In a secret corner of her soul, Buffy hopes Willow hasn’t figured it out. It’s too much fun this way.

Looking slightly wounded at having her research monologue cut short, Willow sighs. “Not yet. I’ve still got some leads to follow, but it’s hard to figure out. Like, why would someone or something make the two of you do...well, you know. To what end? Wouldn’t it be better to turn you against each other, not...press you against each other?”

“Well, truth be told, we already were against each other before.” Willow’s eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. “No, not like now, I mean we fought each other - all the time. Just that he’ippeipped now and all. I don’t get it either.” Buffy rests her chin on her knees again, face rigid in concentration.

“What is it, Buffy?”

“Do you think...do you think it’s possible we just started liking each other?”

“Without supernatural intervention? No way.” Willow shakes her head, hair flying.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Oh no, I don’t mean it like that, Buffy! ‘Course he could want you and all. But c’mon, it would take some freaky mojo for you two to just leap into each other’s arms, right? All sudden like that?”

Buffy nods. After a few seconds, her eyes light up. “Wait. I almost forgot! Pain. I had a pain before I...before we...well, y’know. My chest hurt.”

“You were having a heart attack?”

“No, not like that. Just a sharp pain. But I was alone when it happened. And then, whammo, bring on the lovin’.” Willow holds up her hand. “Right, got it.” She stands up. “Well, I should hit the books again, then.” Starting to turn toward the door, she hesitates. “Should I take you with me?”

“No!” Buffy answers immediately, standing up quickly.

“Settle down now. Just wondering...will you be okay?”

“Mmm, should be just fine.” Buffy lifts her eyebrows suggestively.

“Don’t start with the smutty talk or I’m outta here! Actually, I‘m out of here anyway, but I‘m still warning ya.” Willow shakes her finger at Buffy.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know what I find. This time, when I call, answer the phone, okay? I don’t know how many more times I can walk in on scenes like these without emotional scarring.”

“You called? Hmm, never heard the phone.”

“Color me stunned.” Willow shakes her head. Giving Buffy a quick hug, she slips back out the front door. Buffy leans against the door, listening to Willow retreating down the walk. A smile touches her face and she pushes off the door, heading for the kitchen...