Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 26: Sunset
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Buffy paces, wondering if she can wear a track in the carpet in one afternoon. For the dozenth time, she goes to the window to check on the sun. More to the point, she checks to see if it is getting any closer to the horizon.

“Stupid sun. Go DOWN, already!” Buffy flings the curtain back down and takes another lap around the room. She knows she could go to Spike now, before sunset, but she won’t. She told him sunset and that’s when she’s coming back . Not earlier. Call it Slayer pride. Only she’s about ready to throw that pride out the window and sprint to his crypt. She wants him in the worst way. Her skin is nearly humming in anticipation of his hands on it again. Buffy wonders if it will always be this way. She is already thinking about Spike in terms of forever, something she rarely allows herself to do. The short lifespan inherent in her calling keeps her tiptoeing around that word - forever. But somehow, she can see it with him. A small smile plays across her lips. Right now, though, she would settle for a freaking sunset. The smile disappears.

With an exasperated sigh, Buffy flings herself onto her bed, grabbing a magazine from the bedside table. She had tried killing the afternoon in her dorm room once she was done with her classes, but Willow had finally, politely, asked her to get the heck out. Her pacing and sighing were driving the redhead to distraction. Buffy chuckles as she remembers the words Willow finally blurted out: “Listen, Buffy, is it possible you could try to will the sun to set somewhere that is else? I’m trying to read!” Despite her tone, Buffy saw the smile in Willow’s eyes. A romantic at heart, Willow could understand the flush of new love, the way your body just itched, waiting for your next chance to see that special person. Willow could still not believe that person was Spike, but at least she understood how hard it is to wait.

Buffy tosses the magazine aside and leans her head back, eyes closed. Meditate, I could try to meditate, she thinks. I used to be good at that. Crossing her legs Indian style, Buffy sits up, back straight as a rail. She begins taking in deep breaths and exhaling them forcefully, cleansing her body. She tries to clear her mind, letting thoughts flow out of her like water. All her thoughts are of Spike and they don’t really want to go but she continues to try. Her heart, racing before, starts to slow. She tries to hear it, the gentle thump thump in her chest. Tuning her breathing to her heartbeat, she feels the beginning of the calm steal over her. However, she does not remove all distraction. In her mind’s eye, she sees Spike. Sleeping. Naked. His peace becomes her peace. No other thoughts interfere for a period of seconds that stretch into minutes. Buffy loses herself completely in her trance.

Then, the Spike in her vision wakes, stirring slowly. Her breath catches once. He stretches slowly, arms above his head, the muscles in his torso rippling. A sudden rush of warmth courses through her, filling her veins. He runs his hands through his platinum curls, ruffling them. Buffy’s heart begins to beat a little faster. One hand runs down his carved abs and rests there as he props himself up on his other arm. Buffy’s own hands begin to wander over her body, squeezing her breasts gently, feeling the skin tighten around her nipples. She gasps lightly, startled by how sensitive her skin is already. Finally, her vision of Spike opens his eyes, those blue blue eyes blaze straight into her, instantly shortening her breath and causing her heart to race. One of her hands runs up her neck as the other descends, sliding between her legs, pressing into the fabric of her jeans. She flinches, the rough seams of the jeans scoring her delicate flesh. The Spike of her mind gazes steadily at her, his body pure invitation. His mouth opens and that tongue, that tongue dances out and traces his bottom lip slowly. Finally, he speaks to her.

“This a private party, luv, or can I join in?” Buffy’s eyes fly open at the sound of Spike’s rich deep voice. The real Spike’s real voice. Her hands freeze in place on her body as her head jerks towards the sound.

Buffy swallows hard at the sight that greets her. His arms are stretched above his head, hands hooked into the top of her door frame. Spike is in all black, the buttons on his shirt open enough to reveal an expanse of alabaster skin above and hitched up enough to tempt her with his lower abs. His jeans are slung low on his hips, the dark fabric tracing the strong lines of his hips and legs. His sleek form is framed in the door, the dim light just enough to show his body to her, to highlight his blond hair, waves loose and messy. Dim light. Buffy’s eyes dart quickly to the window and then back to him.

“Got tired of waitin’, pet.”

Buffy swallows hard, trying to pull herself together. She comes up with one word. “Waiting?”

Spike releases the door frame and takes one step into the room. “For you to come.”

“Come?” As soon as she says it, she closes her eyes. He got her there.

“Yes, luv. Waiting for you to...come.” He pauses, tracing his teeth with his pink tongue. “Said you’d come at sunset.”

Buffy turns back to the window, fighting her need to look at him. It is plain to her that the sun set less than five minutes ago. She grins and turns back to him. A wide, mischievous smirk dances across his face, drawing his sharp lines into relief. “I’ve never been known for my patience, Slayer.” He moves one step closer. She swears the air is thick in the room, slowing his movements, constricting her breathing. And is it suddenly very warm?

The room is filled with a dark orange light, the sun fading behind the trees. She pictures him bursting out of his crypt the second the sun dipped behind the trees, risking those last stray beams to reach her. It gives her a strange feeling of butterflies bouncing around inside her, ricocheting off her ribcage. No, wait, that’s her heart. Pounding. He wanted to be with her that badly.

Spike is caught in a shadow, his blond hair glowing in the fading light, but his form lost in the dark. Buffy wills him closer, but cannot find the coordination to move her body just yet. She can feel him watching her. His eyes sweep over her body, burning a trail over her skin. A light sheen of sweat rises up all over her.

Finally, mercifully, Spike moves in closer. As his face comes back into the light, Buffy’s world tilts a bit off axis. She has seen his passion over the last few days, seen his lust raging within him. But this, this longing that radiates from his eyes. She has not seen this before. His voice is husky, deeper than normal when he speaks again. “Missed you, luv.”

Buffy bites into her lower lip, locking on. “Bet I missed you more.” Her voice is playful, but there is an undercurrent there that Spike can pick up. She did actually miss him. It wasn’t a one-night...okay, like a three-night stand. The love she professed is still issuing from her in waves. Spike shakes his head slightly, still having a hard time registering the recent events.

“Don’t think so, luv.”

Buffy lifts one eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Her voice, their actions are light and teasing, but the sexual tension is drawn tight between them. Each move causes a reaction in the other. Spike runs one hand through his hair and Buffy’s fingers dance across her collarbone. The anticipation is too delicious to ruin. Both want this game to play out a little longeThe The result is inevitable. The length of the playtime is still up for grabs.

“Me? Pick a fight?” Spike grins, moving a fraction of an inch closer. Buffy’s chest constricts a bit more. She doesn’t understand why she also has this streak of nerves running through her at a gallop. Seeing him again has her completely out of sorts. Of course, professing her love could have something to do with it. They’ve both had hours to turn their words over in their respective minds. Is she worried he will change his? Or that she will? Buffy nibbles on her bottom lip, trying to push out these thoughts. A glance into his eyes makes her think he is not changing his mind anytime soon. And she has already taken the plunge into the outside world by telling Willow. A huge step.

“Yes, you. You live for fights, remember?”

Spike edges within a foot of Buffy, still sitting on the bed with her legs crossed. He changes the subject. “What were you thinking of?”

Buffy’s heart skips a quick beat. Can he read her mind now? “When?”

“When I got here tonight.” She almost lets out a sigh of relief. He looks at her expectantly, but Buffy continues to chew on her lip, just staring at him. Tiny electric sparks seem to be popping back and forth between them, bridging the small distance.

Finally, she decides to tell him. “You.” He cocks his head at her, his smile returning. “I was meditating.”

“You were meditating on me?” The second Spike’s words leave his mouth, Buffy is on them.

“No, but that can be arranged.” Her eyes are dark, the throbbing from below her waist interfering with her ability to think very clearly. Spike’s mouth drops open just a bit. Dirty talk from Buffy? This is something he could get used to. He quickly recovers and makes a decision. Playtime is over. Or maybe, it’s just beginning...

Spike breaches the barrier between them and lets one finger reach out to graze her cheek. Buffy’s eyes close, the relief of him finally touching her evident on her face. His fingertip is not cold, but slightly cooler than her skin. Spike brings the night in with him. The cool darkness, smooth and a bit sinister washes over her. She shivers slightly as his finger continues its path down her neck. His touch is gentle but firm. When he reaches the base of her neck, his finger continues to trail lower and lower, dipping between her breasts. She can still feel his skin on her through the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Suddenly, she feels very overdressed. In a lightning fast move, Buffy’s hand shoots out and grabs his, freezing it between her breasts. Her eyes pop open, grabbing his with their intensity. His baby blues have turned storm cloud gray as he gazes down at her. Despite his slow and methodical movements, the barely restrained passion is there. Just under the surface. She can see it in the twitching of the muscles in his neck, the near trembling in his hand as she presses it into her warm flesh, burning through her shirt. She starts to realize that despite his bravado and his brazen arrival in her bedroom, he is...nervous? Since he started touching her, Buffy can almost smell the strangely unfamiliar fear on him. Her brow knits as she tries to delve deeper into his eyes.

“Spike? Are you okay?” Buffy’s hand caresses Spike’s before moving up his arm a little bit, rubbing and kneading the skin of his forearm.

“Mmm...yes, luv. I’m okay.” His voice lacks its normal rolling sensuality. She squints at him.

“Spike, this is me. Buffy. Don’t lie to me. It’s part of the deal.”

“What deal?” Buffy knows he is trying to divert her, but it won’t work.

“The deal of loving me, of being loved by me. There are standards, codes of behavior and stuff.” Buffy’s mouth twitches into a smirk as she reaches out to grab Spike’s waist, hooking her finger in his belt loop and pulling him against the edge of the bed. She feels the tension in his body lessen.

He swallows, his free hand brushing back her loose hair. “So, we’re still...um...in this together, luv?”

“If you mean, do I still love you, then yes. Silly vampire. I’m in for the whole enchilada, the whole nine yards and the whole kit and kaboodle...plus any other cliches you can think of.” Buffy grins up at her lover, her eyes dancing in playfulness.

Spike matches her smile, his tongue clicking against the back of his front teeth. “Well, that works out well, pet, ‘cause I still love you too.”

The smile still plastered across her face, Buffy remembers the messages her body has been telegraphing through her for the last few hours. Find Spike. Get Spike. Have Spike. And finally, she can act on them. She sits up on her knees on the bed, facing him. She releases Spike’s hand and hooks her hand into his waistband on the other side. She yanks, hard, and feels his body slam against hers, his erection already plainly evident. If possible, the smile gets wider.

“Ready to go, huh?” She bats her eyes innocently as her hands move away from his waist and down his back, suddenly cupping his ass and having a good squeeze, pressing him against her even harder. Spike’s eyes widen as his throbbing cock strains against his jeans.

Recovering quickly, his grin is wicked. “Ready, willing and more than able, luv.”


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Author's Note : Thanks for the reviews, everyone! (Sorry I almost made you late to work, angie! ;) ) -Tiana