Shot in the Dark

* * * * *
Chapter 40: In the Wee Small Hours
* * * * *


Spike feels Buffy tremble in his arms and curses at himself. Of course he’s not cold, but his Slayer is freezing. Lifting his head from the crook of her shoulder, he makes eye contact. The words die in his mouth as he sees she was not trembling from cold, but because she’s crying. It almost did him in when she cried earlier tonight and this is much worse. Before he can speak, she blinks at him, her hazel eyes glistening in the moonlight. “I’m okay, Spike.” She brings up a hand to wipe roughly at her eyes, sniffling a little.

“No, you’re bloody well not. What is it? Did I hurt you, love?” Spike’s chest constricts at the thought. He never wants to hurt her, not since he fell for her.

“Oh no no…you didn’t hurt me.” The tears keep dropping at an alarming rate and Spike steps back, clasping her upper arms.

“Then what?” Spike rubs her arms lightly, trying to soothe her.

“I just…I just…it feels so right. Here with you…I just can’t do it. I can’t do it.”

Spike grins and lifts his eyebrows suggestively. “Well, we can wait a little while, pet.”

Buffy half-laughs, half-sobs at his joke, slapping feebly at his chest. “Not that…” She looks up at him, her hand still laying on his still chest, right where his heart is. For just a moment, she wonders at the love of a man with no beating heart. “I can’t love like this…” During the pause she takes, Spike’s thoughts race, wondering where she is going with this. “…and then lose you. I just don’t know that I can do it.” Her cheeks tracked with tears, Spike feels his heart crack nearly in half. He can’t do it, either. How could he possibly leave her?

He drags his thumbs down her cheeks, swiping at the moisture there. Leaning forward, he kisses at the salty tears lightly.

“Buffy. We’ve both been through…love and loss.” Spike’s jaw clenches involuntarily at the thought of his grandsire with the woman in his arms, but moves past the thought quickly. She did love the poof. And now, more importantly, she loves him. And of course, there was him and Dru. Well, a long long time together is hard to get over. Every time he looks down at the petite blond crying in his arms, he has a hard time even picturing Drusilla in his mind’s eye. His love for Buffy has moved in and shoved the old out of the way. “Doesn’t make this any soddin’ easier, though. Harder, maybe. But you’re forgetting one important thing.” Spike lifts her chin with his index finger, eyes diving into hers. “I don’t have plans to leave. Some dusty book in the Watcher’s house says I might be leavin’…but that doesn’t mean I have to. I’m not giving up that easy. Been around a long time and would like to keep my record going.” He kisses her gently on the mouth. “So, let’s not start talking of me in the past tense yet, eh, love?” His eyes twinkle and Buffy finds herself smiling at him, despite the knot of despair in her stomach.

“You’re right, Spike. I’m sorry to be so negative. It’s just the Slayer gig tends to come with a lot of death and loss and…I’m tired of it. I just got be in these arms and I like it here, dammit.” She wraps her arms around Spike and squeezes, hard. “Let’s go home, ‘kay? I’m done fighting for tonight. Gotta save my strength for tomorrow.” Unspoken is their need to simply be together as much as possible until tomorrow, come what may.

“You know you’re not to interfere with whatever happens tomorrow night, pet.”

“I’ll need strength no matter what, Spike.” He lets her words hang in the air, feels a cool breeze skate across their naked bodies. This time her shiver is of the cold variety.

“Right. Home, then?” She nods. They get dressed slowly, watching each other. Finally, Spike reaches his hand out. Buffy moves forward and takes it, lacing her fingers in his, gripping as if she will never let go.

Without a word, they turn for her house in step, hand in hand. Both see the change in the sky, heralding the coming day. A day they would like to hold away as long as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they enter the house, Buffy notices a light blinking on the answering machine. Her brow knits for a second. “Oh my god!”

Spike jumps. “What is it?”

“My mom!” Buffy drops his hand and darts over to the machine.

“Thought your mum was out of town?” Spike looks around, confused.

“She was supposed to be back tonight. I completely forgot!” Buffy hits the button on the machine and her Mom’s voice plays to her. Her face starts to relax as her Mom explains she won’t be home tonight after all. She’s extended her trip through the weekend. Buffy flops on the chair in relief, smiling up at Spike.

“So, we’ve still got the place to ourselves, right?” Buffy nods. “I’m pretty distracting, am I?” Buffy nods again. “Made you forget your own mum.”

Buffy stands up and walks up to Spike, lightly pressing her body against his. “Hell, you made me forget my own name a few times.”

Spike’s tongue presses against his front teeth, mouth open slightly as he returns the full body pressure Buffy applied. “That so, love?”

She nods and then throws her head towards the stairs. “Wanna try again?”

“What happened to saving your strength?” Buffy grinds against him once, hard, her answer in every movement. Feeling the quickly building bulge in his pants, she quirks an eyebrow in approval. Then she turns and darts for the stairs. She gets about halfway up before Spike reaches her. They go down in a heap on the stairs, Spike cradling her head in his hand, pressing them together below the waist. Buffy gasps as he dives for her neck, the kisses fast and rough. She’s drawn the predator out in him, something he confirms with a low growl. Her heart flutters like a rabbit caught in a trap, excited and aroused by his completely successful attempt at distracting her. The way her body sings out in response to his drowns out all other thoughts quite nicely.

“God, Slayer, you are delicious.” Spike travels up her neck to her jawline, finally reaching her mouth. The kiss is intense and when Spike finally breaks it, Buffy is gasping for air. Her pink lips parted, cheeks crimson, eyes dilated, she is pure sex, pure arousal and Spike has to have her, has to ravish her further.
“Let’s go, Spike.” Her hand has found its way between his legs and gives his throbbing erection a gentle, but firm squeeze. Spike growls in response before standing up and over her. Sprawled out on the stairs, clothes disheveled, hair splayed across the steps, he can’t help but think he is one lucky bloke.

Buffy looks up at him, hair mussed, shirt half off (did she do that?) so that his alabaster skin teases her with a glimpse, chest heaving despite his undead state and thinks just one word.

Mine.

She’s on her feet in a flash, a few steps above him so she can see him eye to eye. Her arm shoots out, hooking him around the neck, holding his gaze. She pulls, a little hard, and Spike nearly loses his balance. Baby wants to play. The smirk that spreads across his face is so damn dirty Buffy nearly loses her train of thought. A glance down his body brings her right back on track, however. Her mouth captures his, leaning into his body, nearly sending them tumbling down the stairs. Spike fights back, driving Buffy backwards up the stairs. They twist and turn around the upstairs hallways, hands grabbing, lips attacking, crashing into furniture and walls before landing in a tangled mess of clothes and limbs on her bedroom floor. In the fury of claiming and tasting and just plain old having, the undercurrent is bittersweet. Their lovemaking is invested with a fatalism that neither can fully deny and both have to bite back the tears as they come together once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Psyche’s sigh echoes off the walls of the marble bedchamber. “Any ideas yet, dear?” Cupid’s shoulders are tense, most unlike the carefree god, as he paces to and fro. “Sweetheart?”

His head jerks up as he comes to a stop. “Yes, my sweet?”

She smiles sadly at him. “Any ideas?”

He frowns, wrinkles creasing his handsome face. “No, I’m afraid not. I would like to intervene on behalf of the vampire, but I cannot see how. Not yet. His fate…it is not my power. His love, well, that has been seen to.” He presses his lips together in a tight thin line and resumes walking. “I will continue to think about it…”

Eyes sadder than ever, Psyche turns back to the view below and the lovemaking that has transitioned from frenzied to tender. Her heart aches at the sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Damn it.” Giles swears softly under his breath as he whips his glasses off and rubs his eyes furiously. A glance to the window shows the sky starting to turn pink with impending sunrise. The numerous books on his table are opened, pages marked with scraps of paper and scribbled theories. The lines of fatigue and worry on his face tell the story. That he has come no closer to saving Spike in his hours of additional research. He sees Buffy’s worried face in his mind’s eye and it only renews his frustration. Rubbing his eyes one last time, he replaces his glasses and heads to the kitchen. A cup of tea may help to clear the fog in his brain. He is not going to give up on his charge’s chance at happiness after just a few hours. His Slayer deserves it and he will give it to her. If he only bloody well can.

**********
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay - I've been sick! And am now heading out of town for the holidays! More updates in the new year. Thanks for the reviews! -Tiana