Reflections

ReflectionsTitle: Reflections
Author: Salinah20
Email: Salinah20@ev1.net
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, just fixing Joss’ mess. I’ll give them back when
I’m done, I promise.
Summary: My take on why Buffy and Spike are together B/S (with B/A undertones)
Rating: NC-17 as if I’d write anything else *grin*
Spoilers: Season 6 of BTVS
Distribution: My site, Over The Edge, Anyone else is welcome just let me know!!
Feedback: Please, please, please!!!
A/N: Yes this is B/S smut, but it’s a B/A’ers take on it! Don’t worry, very pro B/A!
A/N2: Warning: Angst ahead

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As she sat in her room, she gazed into the mirror, not looking at her reflection
as she brushed her hair. She was looking at reflections in her mind.
Reflections of a time past when she felt happy, felt loved, and felt safe.
he rhe remembered the first time she laid her eyes on him. It had taken her breath
away. As she had looked at him under her foot, she felt something click inside
her and she knew life wonevenever be the same.

She never imagined he would leave her though. Be bothered by her aged
appearance, regret that they had never had children, maybe; but never leave.

After the soulless months he spent, things were never the same. She had
forgiven him as soon as his soul returned. He had not forgiven himself however.
Despite every reason he had given her for leaving, she knew that was truly the
cause. He would never be able to forgive himself for the tortures his demon had
put her through.

A pair of arms slipped around her waist. A cold face nuzzled her neck. She
knew it wasn’t him, but she slipped into the game of denial she had started long
ago.

“Lo, pet,” he whispered into her ear as he began to gently nibble and suck on
the lobe. “Penny for your thoughts.”

She wished he would be quieter around her. The lack of warmth in his body, his
years of experience with women, even the way he touched her, reminded her of
him. When he spoke however, the illusion was shattered.

“Shhh…” she whispered her fantasy unable to incorporate Spike’s voice into the
imaginary scene playing in her head.

Spike knew what she was doing. He had known for some time that she would never
truly love him. He knew he was a replacement, and hated that fact; but it kept
him in her life, and in her bed. Allowing him to imagine his own scenes. Ones
where she said she loved him, where his name was the one she screamed in the
throes of her passion, ones where the name Angel didn’t cause a look of longing
to cross her face.

Both knowing the other’s intentions, they slipped into silence as he slid the
strap of her top down her shoulder, trailing kisses behind it. His hands
wrapped around her waist again as he pulled her tight against him. His hands
began a slow journey under her shirt, as she turned to face him, her eyes
squeezed shut.

As thlipslips met, and their tongues dueled, she let herself drift further into
her fantasy. By the time Spike’s hands began to caress the gentle underslope of
her breast, she could practically smell the sandalwood scent that always seemed
to surround Angel. She deepened the kiss, hoping the scent of cigarettes
emanating from Spike would disappear soon.

Spike slid his hand further until he could feel the rough, pebbly surface of her
nipple. He began to roughly pinch and pull on it, as Buffy arched into his
touch. He withdrew his hand from under her shirt, eliciting a whimper of
protest from Buffy and clasped her hand in his pulling her up from her chair.

As he led her to the bed, her eyes never opened. They never did, but it didn’t
bother him anymore.

He knew she was imagining Angel’s touch as he gently pulled her shirt over her
head. Her beautiful breasts now fully revealed to him, he began to place little
kisses all around them, carefully avoiding the one part she wanted him to touch
so much.

She began to whine in protest as he kissed and caressed her breasts, avoiding
the most sensitive part. The Angel in her mind chuckled at her protests,
grinning at the look of exquisite torture on her face. “Please,” she whimpered
aloud, begging him to stop the torture.

Spike quickly complied, sucking her nipple firmly into his mouth and being
rewarded with Buffy’s moan of pleasure. He began to worship her breasts,
lavishing kisses and caresses on them. His hands slid down her stomach and
beneath the waistband of her pajam

Buffy moaned as she started to feel the hand slide down into her pants. Her
breathing quickened at the remembrance of things to come. Angel always loved to
take her to the edge of insanity before he took her. She felt a finger slide
into her already soaking folds and play with the outer edges of her entrance.
She thrust her hips towards his finger, silently begging for more. She needed
to feel him inside her.

As he slid his finger into her dripping wetness, her fantasy world slipped a
little; the roughness of his hands hard to incorporate into her dream world.
Angel’s hands had been so soft and gentle as they touched her. Falling back
into fantasy, she remembered his feather-like touches. The way he was always
gentle with her, as if it was always about love and longing, and never lust and
sex. Even after they had made love that once, in the few times they had let
things slip to the brink of losing control; he was always gentle with her.

“Please…” the whimpered words rang in Spike’s ears. Words meant for another,
but the command issued to him. He gently removed his fingers from her core and
slid her pants off, drawing an unneeded breath at the sight of her glorious
nakedness. He only wished this gift was being given to him, instead of the
reflections in her past.

She heard his zipper lowering, and a faint rustle as he slid his pants off. The
bed sank as he climback ack between her parted thighs. As the cool temperature
of his thigh brushed against hers, she was transported back in time to the
moment everything had changed. They had only made love that once, however it
played through her mind so often, it seemed they had made love forever.

He hesitated as the tip of his cock met her entrance. He knew he had to be
gentle. If he was too rough or forceful, it would shake her out of her fantasy,
and he had learned in the past that meant a quick exit for him. But not just
that, he wanted to make love to her. Every fiber of his existence was for her,
even if she never noticed. He wanted to prove his love for her, even if she
only responded to him in his head.

She moaned aloud as he slowly slid into her, filling her body, as her dreams
filled her mind. She was lost in the feelings Angel was creating in her body as
he gently thrust into her body. This was so unlike their first time. No
hesitant explorations, just love shining between them. As the friction brought
her close to the edge, she bared her throat to him. “Angel,” she breathed,
wanting him to enter her veins as he had entered her mind and body.

Spike knew her throat was not bared for him, long before he heard her breathe
his name. He fought for control of his demon, knowing he would never be invit bac back into her life if he slipped and suckled from the powerful vein throbbing
before him. He knew he needed to end this round of denial before choices were
made they couldn’t take back. He deepened his thrusts driving them both to the
edge.

Buffy felt him increase his thrusts, as Angel lowered his face to her neck.
Quickly, and with the most erotic sensation of her life, he slipped his fangs
into her neck.

She screamed as her body started to tremble, instantly cumming from the
intensity of his bite. She absently noticed the feeling of his cold release
filling her channel, cooling the scalding heat contained there.

Spike quickly withdrew from her, standing to pull on his pants. He knew what
would happen, but silently wished, for once, the outcome would be different.

She felt him withdraw and slowly opened her eyes, needing to gaze into those
deep brown eyes that always reflected her love in the most brilliant way. The
eyes she gazed into were a sparkling blue, showing nothing but the pain of
unrequited love.

Her fantasy crashed around her, as the reality of the situation came to life.
She had slept with Spike. Again. Her hand flew to her throat, wondering if the
bite had only been in her fantasy.

“I didn’t bite you,” he whispered, pain filling his voice as he answered the
question her hand had asked.

“Get out,” she spat at him, angrier with herself than she could ever be at him,
for allowing this charade to continue.

Spike quickly headed for the door, knowing no argument could win. His mind
heard words of love and endearments, even as his ears heard her sobs as she
realized yet again that Angel wasn’t here.

She was alone again. Someday, she thought mourning anew for the loss of her
love.