Lost Memories

Time almost seemed to stop for the vampire. He was at a crucial crossroads, not quite at the point of no return, but the moment was quickly approaching. He was still staring into the deep green pools of her eyes. The air was thick with her arousal and mixed with her naturally alluring scent, it was quite an experience. Just the mingling smells were enough to have him fighting for control. Combined with the warmth and willingness of her body, that control was starting to slip.

So, why wasn’t her pulling her upstairs to shag her mindless? Later, looking back, he’d be certain that his feelings for Buffy had caused the moment of doubt. But, right here, right now, he knew the truth. It wasn’t Buffy stopping him, it was fear. He was scared of the regret that Red would surely feel once it was all said and done. He had too many regrets to deal with right now - none of them his own - he wasn’t sure if he could carry the burden of anymore.

Yep, huge changes ladies and gentlemen, the Big Bad had gone soft. Not that he’d ever admit that outside the safety of his own head, but it was true nonetheless.

Here she was, offering herself to a self proclaimed evil vampire, and he was the one hesitating. He was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. Heck, maybe she had.

Maybe he just didn’t want her. That wouldn’t be a big surprise now would it? Oz hadn’t wanted her or loved her enough to stay. At the first sign of trouble, Tara had bolted. If they didn’t want her, and supposedly they both loved her, then why would he? He was in love with her best friend, he didn’t give a rat’s patootey about silly little Willow.

“Just forget it Spike. I don’t know what’s going on with us tonight, but if it will be easier for you, just leave. It’s not your responsibility to fix me, and it’s not your fault I’m lonely.” She stepped out from between him and the door and reached for the handle. Before she could fling it open, his hand was on hers - darn vampire super-speed.

“I’m lonely too, pet.” He wondered if she realized how much that admission had cost him. Pride and dignity to name a couple things.

“So…….?” She let the tentative half-question hang in the air.

“So……. We’d be less lonely together, right? You said something about upstairs?”

They walked hand in hand up the stairs to her room. She opened the door and for a moment he though it might well be the gateway to heaven. The smell was just amazing. There was a very faint vanilla scent that was definitely the lingering memory of Glenda. But, that was greatly overshadowed by the power and magic that could only be Red.

He was standing in the middle of the room taking deep burning breaths. He wanted to soak up as much of the manna surrounding him as possible. He looked up into the mirror (not something he did very often, even after all these years, not having a reflection was a little unnerving). At that moment, however, he was thrilled that there was nothing to block his view.

Red was standing about 5 feet behind him gloriously naked, her green dress in a pool at her feet. She was beautiful, all soft curves and silky skin. He turned to face her and was pleased to see the slight blush that crept up her chest when she met his eyes.

The moment that she moved toward him, every trace of the shy, mousy slayerette disappeared. Suddenly she was bold, secure, and sensual, everything he’d always admired in a lover. She reached out and placed her small hand on the side of his face, brushing his cheekbone softly with her thumb. Once more she looked into his eyes and he could no longer restrain himself. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, pouring into her all the passion and desire she had so quickly built in him.

It wasn’t really her he wanted, she knew that. It wasn’t her lips or her body he craved. He loved and wanted Buffy, but Buffy didn’t love him, wouldn’t or couldn’t give him what he needed. So, here she was, playing second fiddle yet again to her self-absorbed friend. But, that would just have to be ok. She needed him, she wanted him, and she’d pay the price, whatever it may be.

His lips played over her jaw and neck and she sighed. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. She was firmly pressed against him and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips. He may have wanted Buffy, but she could feel the affect she was having on him. Being that close to him caused every coherent thought to slip from her mind.

She didn’t even have time to feel guilty about being unfaithful to Tara. In fact, since the moment their lips touched, Tara had been nothing but a distant memory. Maybe that was a stretch, because truthfully, right then, Tara didn’t even exist. There was only Spike and
Willow, sole inhabitants of a paradise of their own creation.

Tara. He was sure that was where Willow was. It was he who held her, he who was kissing her, but for Willow there was only Tara. That hurt, maybe more than it should, but damn it, he wanted her here with him. He wanted, no he needed her - someone - to know that he was capable of love and tenderness. He could give pleasure that wasn’t rooted in pain.

She slid his jacket down his shoulders and he caught it and tossed it unceremoniously onto the chair behind him without even pulling away from her. He thought he might die - again - when he felt her fingertips brushing his sides as she pulled his shirt off. Her hand were so warm, and more gentle than anything he was used to.

Her hands moved over his chest, painting an invisible masterpiece over the planes of his body and he was lost. There wasn’t another thought of Tara. Thoughts of Buffy had ceased to plague him the minute he saw Red naked. There was only one woman in this world right now. Willow was all he thought, felt, or needed. Willow was all he wanted.