Beauty and the Beast

Night time:

A whole day has come and gone, and I’ve never moved from Spike’s side. Sleep came strangely easier to me with Spike pressed against me. A desired body crushed up to mine. The hollow of his back under my hand. The thin, shapely leg pressed between my heavier ones. The mouth that breathes cool air onto the flesh of my throat making me shiver deliciously. I never knew that. I never knew that even in sleep Spike still breathes. I slowly awaken, taking in the sensation of his real body (and not his fantasy one) touching mine. It is a thousand times better than anything my imagination could have thought of. He has weight, and touch, and smell. I lick my tongue over his flesh - he has taste too.

I open my eyes for the first time and I look up to soft, blue ones. Spike is awake and watching me. A delightful shiver passes through my body and I cling tighter to his waist.

“You’re really...pretty when you sleep,” Spike murmurs, a trace of a smile touching his lips. I don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed about waking up next to Spike but none of those dreams compare to the real thing.

“So are you,” I answer back, keeping my voice calm and sleepy.

Spike smiles and a cool hand slides up my body. He rests it against my cheek and for the longest time I start to wonder what he’s doing. “I wish I could remember your name, though,” he says sadly, looking into my eyes for the first time...hell, it is the first time.

“What?” I gasp, pulling out of his tight embrace.

“I don’t know your name...but you feel familiar...” Spike sits up and his face falls. “Am I wrong? Don’t you... Aren’t we?” He waves his hand between us and I get the idea he’s trying to ask if we’re together.

Are we together? Am I with him? Is he with me? Yes, in a way we are. We work together...kind of. But I don’t think that’s what he is asking. He’s asking if we are intimate. An image of naked Spike pressed in my bed under me fills my mind and I moan softly.

“Oh yes,” I whisper. I let the image take over and before I know what I’m doing, I lean over and kiss Spike’s mouth. His lips open for me and my tongue slides in. It’s so slow and gentle, almost as if I’m moving in slow motion. I just lean over and press our lips together and he’s opening up for me. More moaning as I slip my tongue in, tasting him for the first time. The first time ever. This isn’t a dream - it’s real. So wonderfully real. I growl and kiss him harder. Passionately. Spike doesn’t stop and as my tongue writhes in his mouth, he kisses back with just the same need and pressure. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth and oh, the flavour. He tastes slightly of nicotine, but the strongest flavour is the taste of blood and orange sweets. I groan, my slacks getting tighter and tighter as I kiss the one I have desired for so long. I feel a fluttering in my belly, making me tremble all over. Finally, Spike breaks the kiss and falls back onto the bed.

“Oh yeah, we’re together,” he breathes, gently touching his bruised lips.

Some part of me knows this is wrong. It knows I should tell him the truth. But after that kiss! That kiss was the answer to my dreams. My obsession.

“Do you remember anything about us?” I ask calmly, trying desperately to push aside the need to tell the truth.

“I...err...not really,” he says after a long moment thinking. He reaches into his jacket pocket; not even saying anything about his ripped t-shirt, and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He looks at them strangely for a moment and then shakes his head, opening the packet and taking one out. “I remember I smoke,” he comments, digging out a lighter and taking a long suck on the end of his cigarette. “I kinda remember fighting something...but that’s a little vague. I do remember waking up with you next to me...but I can’t seem to think of your name.”

“Do you know yours?” I ask, taking the cigarette from him and breathing in a lungful. I slowly release it noticing Spike staring at my lips.

“Yeah, I know my name. Everyone knows their name!” Spike gives a nervous laugh, taking the cigarette back from me. “It’s...well, it’s...” he sighs, “look I don’t friggin’ know, just tell me!”

Spike is about to fall from my lips but something stops me. What if that name brings back all his memories? What if the amnesia is only short term and it all comes back with that one my ofy of his name? Do I want it to all come back? Can I deal with Spike if he remembers he hates me? Can I live with that again? Can I live with myself if I don’t tell him? Tears burn my eyes as that thought burns my brain. I know that if I lose him again...I won’t want to fight anymore.

“Will,” I finally answer. “Your name is William.” And please forgive me.

“Will.” Spike repeats, rolling the name off his tongue. “Sounds okay,” he agrees, and leans back, pulling my arm under his head as a make shift pillow. The action makes my body burn to touch him. All concerns are pushed to the back of my mind and all I see is Spike. He’s all I can think about. All I care about. I lean over and gently kiss his cheek, and curl my larger body against his side.

“What I don’t get,” Spike says as he finishes his cigarette, “is how I could ever forget you? I know I’m a vampire...right.”

“Right,” I reply, leaning over and kissing his throat. Spike seems to like the contact, and he slides his free hand into my hair.

“I know I drink blood. I’ve lived for a long time...I seem to remember something burning though...” He shakes his head and I don’t answer that. I think that has to do with then he died in Sunnydale. “I have this vague memory of a house in London. But when I try to remember you and where I live now...I just come up with a blank.”

I have to think quickly. Where do I take Spike? If I go back to Wolfram and Hart, the others will tell him immediately that we’re not lovers. That we hate each other. If I take him to my apartment there’s nothing of his there and he’s sure to realise we don’t live together.

“We’re between homes,” I reply, trying to think of a place to take him...and then it comes to me. The Hyperion, Spike’s never been there. “We’re staying in an old abandoned hotel, the Hyperion.”

“Abandoned?” Spike says with distinct dislike. “You mean mucky like this place?”

“No, it’s only been abandoned for a few months. Someone I knew lived there.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. As long as we have a good bed and not a mattress on the floor.” Spike grins and jumps to his feet, only stopping a moment to grimace and touch the back of his head. “Whoa, headache.”

“You’ll have to take it easy, and I’ll get you some blood as soon as we get home.” I stand up, dusting myself down with my hands. Suddenly, there is a body in my arms and he kisses my lips.

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Angel,” I answer, half expecting his memory to return and the fighting to commence. Instead, Spike just smiles and reaches over to take my hand in his. I’m stiff for a moment but then he starts pulling me along out of the warehouse. Spike is touching me. Spike is holding my hand. Wanting to hold my hand. I shake myself out of my shock and tighten my fingers around his. He laughs at the touch making me smile too.

“That’s better, luv,” he purrs, “you’re even prettier when you smile.” He laughs at the look on my face and pulls me along with even more force.

“Not pretty,” I mumble.

~*~*~*~

The journey to the Hyperion was quick and without any hassles. Spike was thrilled to have the keys to my car, and I let him think that it belongs to him. It seemed to be another sure way for him to believe we’re connected. That we really do belong to each other and it’s not just in my fantasies. I give him directions to the Hyon, on, and he seems to remember his way around LA pretty well. Though he does mention that there are certain new buildings in places where he remembered hotels, cinemas and shops to be.

When we arrive, Spike jumps out of the car and rummages through my trunk. He finds an old white t-shirt of mine and pulls it on, replacing his jacket after. He nervously looks around and then takes my hand again, pulling me past the Hyperion and towards a row of shops. Delicious burning starts in my groin at the touch of his soft, cool fingers. He seems to want something, but then...shit.

“We can’t hunt, Will.” I quickly remind him. I completely forgot to make sure if hew Iew I had a soul.

“Course we can’t luv, not with the soul and all, but I was hoping to get some animal blood at the butchers over there.” He nods over to the row of shops, and I sigh with relief. Thank you, I cry to some unknown deity, at least I won’t have to go through the whole having a soul, can’t hunt and kill conversation.

“Oh right,” I reply, “I’ve got some money, we can treat ourselves to pig or something.” Damn, but I sound like a right dork. Iettietting really nervous about what to say to Spike. Does he remember certain things? Wilmindminding him awake those memories and change him back into the Spike who hates me? Do I want him to remember our past, his hatred and my obsession? I need to be so careful. I have Spike here with me now, willingly here with me, and I don’t want to lose this.

“That will be great luv, this stupid chip doesn’t allow me to have the good stuff anymore either.”

The chip? For a moment I’m confused, but when Spike sticks his hand out for the money, I silently hand it over. Ahh, the chip from the Initiative that prevented him from hurting humans. Spike believes he still has a chip and not a soul? That thought makes me stop a moment. Spike thinks he’s still a demon. What if he believes he can’t love as a demon? How the hell do I tell him he has a soul without explaining his past to him and admitting we aren’t lovers? Yet, when Spike comes out of the butcher’s shop with a wide grin on his face, I know that I just can’t tell him. I won’t lose him, not now, not after all this time I’ve waited and dreamed of him.

“Hungry, luv?” Spike asks, giving me a sly grin.

“Yeah, very,” I answer, slowly catching on to what he might be implying. “And not just for blood.”

Spike’s blue eyes darken as soon as the words fall from my lips. Oh yes, he was implying something other than food hungry too. He slowly sticks out his soft pink tongue and licks those luscious lips. With that action the whole of my lower body goes hard.

“Come on then, Angel pet, I’ll race you back home.” Spike is running before he’s even finished his sentence, bounding down the street to the Hyperion and vanishing into the doors. I’m not far behind, my speed being reduced by the hardness between my legs. It’s damn difficult running with a full erection. I charge into the foyer of the Hotel and come to an abrupt standstill. Spike is standing in the middle of the foyer and looking around with eyes wide and mouth open.

“Whoa, cool place, luv. Nice.” He starts walking towards the stairs and gives me a look over his shoulder. “Well, you going to show me the way to our room?” he purrs. His voice changes so quickly, one minute filled with awe and the next a siren call of seduction. Well, actually anything that passes those sweet lips of his is seduction to me.

“Sure,” I reply just as smoothly, “you want single or sharing?”

Spike gives a quick snort of laughter and grabs my arm. “I want a bloody big double bed, luv with really good springs.”

I groan instead of answering that. I grab his hand from my arm, and instead of walking slowly, I drag him on, running up the stairs and down the corridors. Spike laughs, a high pitched joyful sound, as he follows me deeper into the hotel. I love his laugh. There is nothing hidden in it. It’s pure and unfettered. Finally, I reach door no 317 and slowly open it. Spike’s bright blue eyes sparkle with some kind of need. Dare I think that he’s yearning for me? Or is it need for blood? He smiles slowly as he realises I’m standing in the doorway, not letting him by and just staring at him.

“You going to get some glasses luv. I’m hungry, and I want to get the food out the way first.”

Oh for the love of god, YES! I can’t answer. I thinktongtongue has swollen with desire in my mouth. I take the brown paper bag as he shoves it at me, and let him slip by me into the main room of my old apartment. It takes me a second to move, but finally, I turn and close the door behind me and head over to the kitchenette. I quickly grab a couple of clean...ish glasses and open the Styrofoam holders of blood and pour some into each glass. I throw the rest into the refrigerator, quickly switching it on, hoping that the power hasn’t been disconnected yet. I turn back to Spike and hold out a glass for him.

He hasn’t moved from his spot in the middle of the main sitting area. He looks around, large eyes taking in every detail. No doubt he’s trying to remember this place. Us living here. Us together here. We never have, even though in my dreams - my fantasies - he’s always been here.

“Nice,” he finally ad, ta, taking the glass from my hand. He gulps the blood back quickly and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins at me again. “It’s a little gloomy, just what I would expect someone with a brooding soul would pick. I guess I haven’t gotten around to spicing the place up a bit with my stuff.”

Spike seems to accept the situation with that sentence, and flings his leather jacket over the back of one of the chairs, leaving him dressed only in tight black jeans with a white t-shirt. I lick my lips, wondering what it would be like to cut that oh so tight clothing off him. The blade a little to close to the skin, a few cuts and nicks here and there, would add to the whole experience of stripping him.

“Are you going to drink your blood luv, or are you just drinking in the view?”

I nod stupidly, my mouth slightly open. I shake myself quickly out of the fantasy of cutting his clothes off and drink back my cool blood without even tasting it. Why bother tasting it? Anything will be bland compared to the taste of Spike. Oh, I want to taste him. Spike smiles again at my action, and slides into one of the chairs, one leg hanging over the arm, as he lights another cigarette. My eyes move down his relaxed form and fixate on his open crotch. What I wouldn’t give to be able to see through those tight jeans. I can just make out the outline of his arousal under the tight cloth, the bulging front, where the zipper is having trouble containing his hardened flesh. The teeth of the metal zipper strain and it opens a notch as Spike shifts in the chair. I think I’m drooling and I quickly wipe my mouth again. My hand comes away with a touch of blood, and I carefully touch my bottom lip with my tongue, tasting more copper there.

“Love yer face like that, pet,” Spike breaths, a ring of smoke forming with his words.

I suddenly realise that I’ve slipped into my vampire face. Heavy ridges, yellow eyes and sharp teeth. It’s a total surprise to me; I’ve hardly ever slipped into gameface just from pure lust anymore. When you’re a young vampire, blood and sex always change your features but as you get older you have more control. It seems Spike can strip away all my control.

“I want to taste you,” I hiss between my fanged teeth. My whole body is taut with desire from just the thought of seeing his pale and firm flesh.


TBC