An Englishman in New York

A/N: For those of you who don't know, the poem Spike recites is John Donne's Death Be Not Proud.

Shell, it seriously would have been weird to have Angel there. I never really got that, but then, I never really got Angel. ::shrugs, waits to be flamed by deranged Angel fangirls::
Spikeslilchit, you can't say I didn't warn you! Hopefully this makes up for it, because this chapter is just poetry and smut. ^_~
Soul of the Rose, thank you! Yup, this is my first. I just woke up one day, got pissed by the way Joss did things, and started writing.
Pixiecorn, I had to make him come back! He's my muse!
Shelly, at the risk of being attacked by rabid fans, I never really liked Buffy and Angel together, so, ewwww, no!
Ace, I didn't mean to make you cry, but I'm flattered that you did. I update pretty frequently, like every other day at least. Have fun!


It’s Been Awhile

The journey to the Summers home was made swiftly and in silence, neither wanting to chance breaking the spell Buffy’s words had weaved around them. Such simple words – show me – and Spike was her willing slave. Had she asked him to take a kamikaze dive from a tower or even set himself on fire, he would have done so with a smile on his face.

With a silent prayer of thanks that they were alone, Buffy led Spike upstairs into her bedroom, pausing in quiet commemoration outside her mother’s door for the space of a breath. She gave the barest hint of a smile when Spike closed the door to Joyce’s room in a show of respect.

The matriarch was dead, but that didn’t mean he was going to shag her daughter while the door of her old bedroom was wide open.

Wordlessly, Buffy removed Spike’s coat from her shoulders and set it down carefully. She then stripped of her clothes, tossing them in the corner as though ridding herself of the clothes she’d worn during the funeral would somehow make the memory less painful. Finally, shameless and naked, she glanced pointedly at Spike’s clothes. “Clothes are evil,” she commented.

“Been sayin’ that for years, pet,” he agreed, shedding his clothes without hesitation.

Buffy opened her arms to him, and he went to her eagerly, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as her fingers tangled in his newly black hair. Without preamble, he lifted her from her feet without breaking the kiss and carried her the short distance to her bed, setting her down gently as he knelt down in front of her.

She whimpered softly as she plundered his mouth with a mixture of desperation and relief; she had him back, even if his welcome had been bittersweet. Never taking his lips from hers, Spike let his hands roam freely over her body, his fingers twisting her nipples when he found them erect. Buffy cried out softly and tried pulling his hips against hers to no avail.

“Shhh, we’ve got all night,” he murmured against her cheek before his lips closed around one of her nipples and tugged. He listened to her whimper and felt a surge of pride.

Squirming restlessly, she laced her fingers through his hair, her free hand tracing the lines of his chest. For one who claimed to know what she needed, he certainly was going about it the long way. His hand skimmed her inner thigh teasingly as he rolled her nipple between his teeth.

“Now, I need you now…” she chanted mindlessly.

Abruptly, his hand stilled on her thigh and he lifted his head from her breast, a brow arching. “Will you behave, pet, or do I need to tie you up?” he teased. “Told you I know what you need.”

“And I said I need you,” she retorted, her voice laced with frustration and desire.

“Shhh,” he said again, leaving a trail of kisses down her abdomen. “You need to feel. I’ll make you feel,” he vowed, tracing the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs with his teeth.

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, watching his descent with wide-eyed apprehension. She whined softly when he pressed a kiss to her mound, and she heard him purr in response.

The first flick of his tongue against her engorged clit made her gasp and shiver beneath him, and he flattened his hand over her stomach to hold her still for his ministrations. She whimpered each time he made contact with the aching nub, grinding her hips in desperation, yet when she neared the brink of orgasm, he stopped to give her time to calm before beginning the cycle again.

Only when she gripped his hair tightly and made a soft, pleading sound did he consent to latch onto her clit, worrying it between his lips until she shouted wordlessly and writhed beneath him. She expected him to stop, but he only gentled the strokes of his tongue until she gasped as a second climax rolled through her.

He quickly rose and found her lips in a fierce kiss, chuckling when she wrapped her legs around his hips and jerked him onto the bed on top of her. She guided him to her core and thrust upward at the same time as he shoved himself into her. They moaned simultaneously, and Spike broke the kiss to bury his face against her throat, muttering a torrent of dirty, pretty things.

Unlike the first time, they were in no rush, and he thrust into her at a maddeningly slow but brutal pace as she smashed her pelvis against his roughly. She clawed at his shoulders unintentionally, twisting beneath him restively. “Good…” she praised idly, “perfect.”

“Yeah, like that,” he grunted in approval when a particularly hard thrust caused her inner muscles to clench around his cock.

Peppering his neck and shoulder with light kisses, Buffy concentrated and squeezed her muscles around his invading shaft repeatedly. She was glad that he was an uninhibited moaner, for it let her know that he was enjoying himself; it was also a turn-on.

“Mine… never let you go… my Buffy…” he babbled against her throat. On impulse, he bit down on the soft flesh of her neck with enough force to leave a bruise.

Her eyes flew open, and her entire body stiffened as she sobbed her pleasure, dimly wondering how something as animalistic as a bite could feel so good. She didn’t care. Sucking on her abused flesh until blood almost broke the surface, he drove against her several more times before the feel of her climax pushed him over the edge.

He collapsed against her as they both panted for breath, and when he thought he could move, he tried to roll to the side only to feel Buffy’s legs fasten around his hips. He didn’t fight her. Kissing the already bruising area, he muttered something unintelligible, and for a long while, they remained locked together in silence.

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Spike wasn’t certain when they had fallen asleep, but when he woke in the early hours of the morning, the first sound he heard was Buffy’s soft sniffle. The wetness on his chest and shoulder confirmed that she was crying, and he lifted a hand to stroke her hair, startling her.

“S-spike? D-did I wake y-you up?” she stammered through her tears.

“‘S’okay, pet,” he said reassuringly, kissing the crown of her head. “Do you need to talk about it?”

Buffy was quiet for long moments as she crawled on top of him to nestle her face against his throat. “I was just remembering when you said that your mom… that she’d never eat or sleep again… Now I know what it’s like. She’ll never see again, or hear, or taste, or feel. She’ll never get to sleep with that guy she was seeing and then gross me out by telling me she had fun.”

“It does get easier, Buffy,” he replied. “Trust me.”

“I do trust you. Even if you didn’t know what this is like.”

“I don’t know whether I believe in Heaven or Hell, but I do know that if there is a Heaven, your mum is there right now with mine. They’re probably drinkin’ coffee and talkin’ about… Hell, I dunno, Mel Gibson’s bum.”

Buffy giggled. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he said sincerely. He had never been a believer before, even when his own mother had died, but now, for Buffy’s sake, he believed.

“Your letter was beautiful,” she whispered after a moment of silence.

“Thanks. I… I wrote to you all the time while I was there. At first I was gonna send them, but then I thought, ‘No, she’s already moved on,’ and so I didn’t,” he murmured.

“You’re always so honest with me,” she mused. “It’s one of the reasons I love you. You do believe me, right?” She glanced up at him with big green eyes full of hope, and he couldn’t deny her.

“Yeah, I believe you. I… God, I love you. I wanted to tell you every single bloody time I saw you.”

“Every time?” she asked incredulously.

“Every one.” He kissed her forehead gently and tightened his arms around her.

“Um, have you… I mean, did you write –” For some strange reason, she felt compelled to ask him to read something, anything, or she knew that she would never be able to get back to sleep.

Somehow understanding what she meant, he shook his head. When her face fell, he traced her lower lip with his thumb and began reciting the poem from memory; it was the only one that would do.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Buffy listened intently as his voice rolled over the words effortlessly, and she wondered if he knew that his sultry if not phony cockney accent faded away after the opening line. She recognized the poem from English class and remembered where it had come from – the book his parents had given him, John Donne.

“You should do that for a living,” she murmured, “talk, I mean.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you tell me to shut up,” he teased.

“You’re a pig, Spike, but I love you.”

“Cajole me with words of love!” he mocked her even as he kissed her temple. “Get some sleep, Buffy. Love you.”

“Mhm,” she answered sleepily.

When her breathing evened out into a peaceful rhythm, Spike added, “Forever.”