Lost Memories

Brutal, there was no other way to describe his encounter with Buffy tonight. Well, there were other words that sprang to mind - vicious, cruel, vile, and the list could go on, but the point being, it had been BAD. They had staked a couple vamps as usual, then staggered - intermittently groping and throwing punches - back to his place for their regular shag-a-thon. So, the night had at least started off normal, if you leave out the fact that he snogged Red. Which, that in and of itself was enough to throw his night off at least a little.

Snogging Willow notwithstanding, he didn’t know exactly where things went wrong. Bugger it all, yes he did, he may not want to admit it, but he knew exactly, when it all went to shit. It was that damn kiss, that sweet, wonderful, brief but mind-blowing kiss, threw him off his game it did. Made him wish the skin under his hands was hot and soft instead of lukewarm and muscular. Made him want the soft gentle caresses of a willing and enthusiastic lover rather than the hard, rough, and only strictly necessary fondling of a woman hell-bent on destruction - his or hers, didn’t matter to her anymore.

So, they’d made it to his crypt, trading blows and both horny as hell, but then he’d made his ultimate mistake. He tried to kiss her. Not that he hadn’t kissed her before, but this time he tried to really kiss her. A kiss that wasn’t just a means to an end, but a kiss meant to convey emotion, a kiss similar to but not quite as deep as the one he’d given Willow only last night. Buffy was having none of that, and let him know as much, by biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, which - hey, vampire - isn’t necessarily a turn off under most circumstances. But with her, it was a warning, a reminder, it was her way of letting him know that he wasn’t worthy of what she was giving him and she certainly wasn’t going to give anymore. To top it off she’d straddled him hard and fast and was gone before he could even utter a strangled “bye”. Oh, he’d gotten off, but it hadn’t held the excitement and pleasure he normally found in sex, surely didn’t come close to the release he’d experienced with Red.

Now, here he sat on the cold floor of the crypt with his pants around his ankles feeling like the world’s lowest scum. That pissed him off. Was a time when he’d have killed her straight out for even daring to presume she could beat him down like this. Just because he’d stupidly and for reasons still unfathomable to him fallen in love with her, she thought she bloody well owned him. Sod it all, who the hell was he kidding, she did own him. It had always been like that with him, fall in love and spend the next hundred years or so having the hell beat out of him every time he turned around. Cecily, Drusilla, Angelus, and now apparently the soddin’ slayer, killer of his kind and he’d damn well gone soft for her.

Fuck, he needed a drink. Standing and pulling up his pants in one swift move, he headed for the bottle of whiskey setting on the nearest sarcophagus. Just as his hand closed around the neck of aforementioned bottle, he heard the faintest sounds of a heartbeat and it sounded like it was coming his direction. His first thought was that Buffy was on her way back for round two, and he wondered if he was in for another fast fuck, or if she was just looking to do a little more damage. But no……the heartbeat was much too fast to be her, the only time her heartbeat sped up like that was when she…….well suffice to say he was sure it wasn’t her.


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Buffy had breezed through the house just minutes ago, dirty and tired, looking for all the world like she’d just slain an entire nest of vamps. Which is of course what she said had happened, but Willow knew better now. Willow knew exactly where she’d been and would bet that her exhaustion had little to do with actual slaying of vampires and more to do with the humping of a certain blonde vampire.

Her friend had downed a glass of water and retreated upstairs to shower and get some sleep, and Willow knew they wouldn’t see hide nor hair of her until morning. It took her all of 5 seconds to justify her sudden desire to see Spike. Stake and holy water in hand she slid silently out the back door and into the inky night.

After all, it was only the friendly thing to do right? Buffy’s “patrol” hadn’t lasted as long as normal tonight, so that could only mean things with Spike hadn’t gone well. Well, as well as they had been anyway, if you can consider their arrangement “good” to begin with.

Lucky for Willow, it seemed to be a quiet night atop the hellmouth and she wasn’t accosted by anything evil, slimy, demony, or even undead on the short walk to the cemetery. The most difficult part was going to be knocking on that door. What could she say? “Oh, hey Spike, thought you might want a midnight snack. So I left the relative safety of the house to walk through Sunnydale after dark to offer you some cookies, which I neither have with me or even have the necessary ingredients to make.” Yeah, sure, that wouldn’t look or sound suspicious at all.

Darn it, she wasn’t a scared little kid anymore, she‘d faced demons, apocalypses, addiction, come to terms with her sexuality, and had slept with the man on the other side of that wall. With her resolve face firmly in place she reached up to knock. Just as she raised her hand the door was flung open and she barely stopped in time to keep from knocking directly on the nose of a very haggard looking, but still incredibly sexy vampire.