For Hope.
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,337
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,337
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
For Hope.
*Feedback is nice, please. But don't be a meanypants unless you hate me.*
REVIEEEWS don't cost money :)
He sensed her before he even heard the sounds of a fight. The scent, the feral, dangerous aroma laced with loneliness that was unmistakably hers, weaved its way to his nose and made him stiffen momentarily. Slayer. That was his night buggered then. Slinking around the side of a crypt, he glared into the night. There she was, little blonde head bouncing in the dim moonlight as she fought with a vampire. Suddenly captivated by her deadly grace, he watched her dance with her quarry, movements fluid and graceful. He inhaled unnecessarily as he watched, a small smirk playing around his lips and a dark fire burning in the depths of his icy eyes. She was good. He recalled the last time he’d fought her, felt her power as she’s slammed him against a wall time after time, made him swallow his own blood as the world span.
He shook his head quickly and glanced down. He was hard? What the-
Must be the thought of killin’ her, he reasoned. He wondered briefly what it would be like to actually fuck the Slayer, pounding into her and knowing she could take it, knowing she could respond with equal force and never get exhausted. Bloody hell! Stop it! He growled and turned to walk away unnoticed as she dusted the vampire.
“Spike. I know you’re there. What the hell do you want now?”
He froze and shrugged, keeping his bleached blonde head turned away. “Nothin’ Slayer. Just walking in the graveyard. Vampire, remember?” Carefully hiding his hard-on with his leather duster, he turned to her and smirked. “Or can’t I do that without you breathing down my neck?”
“Oh, get real, Spike. You think I actually care what you do? It’s just that every time I turn around, you’re there like some lost puppy, all big eyes and fangs.”
“Not true, Slayer! I happen to live round here is all.”
“Live? You’re a corpse.”
“Reside then. Whatever.” He was beginning to get angry. He balled his hands into fists by his sides and glared at her small form.
“Ooh. Spikey knows a big word.”
“Sod off, Slayer. Just let me alone to be evil, that’s my girl.”
“I am not your girl.”
It was said so coldly that Spike raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Alright, blondie, cool it. It’s an expression.”
She shook herself slightly. “Whatever, death breath, just go away. Anywhere.”
Lazily, Spike reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lit it slowly. “Why.”
“Because I’m not in the mood, and if you don’t, I have a nice friend called Mr. Pointy who’d love to meet you.”
He couldn’t resist. It was going to cost him, but…
“Yeah? Well I got a pointy friend who’s just aching to meet you an’ all, pet.”
As predicted, she punched him in the nose. “Bugger!”
“You’re a pig, Spike,” she ground out before storming away, cheeks flushed.
“Captain Cardboard not giving you any?” he called after her as she left.
“Shut up, Spike.”
He turned and went back to his crypt, nose still throbbing, as was something else…the raging hard-on in his tight jeans. What the hell was that all about? Slayer? He hated her…right?
Maybe ‘cos I haven’t had a shag for a while. Yeah, that was it. Had to be. Not the Slayer, just repressed sexual tension. And all he had for comfort was a lasting relationship with his left hand. Bollocks.
*****
Buffy never understood her…relationship…with Spike. She loathed him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to stake him when he was particularly obnoxious. If she was honest, she knew she’d never stake him He’s evil, she told herself sternly. Evil. Nasty vampire with fangs…who’d bite you at the first…and with evil hair and evil…muscles…all white and…No! Bad Spike thoughts! “I am NOT thinking about Spike. I am NOT thinking about Spike,” she told herself. She decided a shower was in order. A cold one.
As the freezing water ran in icy sheets down her back, she thought about everything but Spike. She didn’t think about the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t think about how his deep blue eyes flashed with gold when she annoyed him. And she definitely didn’t think about the way he ran his tongue over his teeth when he laughed, or the way she wanted to kiss him every time he did it.
“Shower not helping,” she decided finally, stepping out and towelling herself off before changing into her nightie and crawling into bed. Lying on her back and staring at the ceiling didn’t help either. What the hell is going on? I hate him. I loathe him. I wish the ground would open up and swallow him. And yet…
“I should do a Xander and live in denial,” she muttered, turning onto her side and picking up a book. “It’s warmer.” She glanced at the clock. 2 am.
*****
REVIEEEWS don't cost money :)
He sensed her before he even heard the sounds of a fight. The scent, the feral, dangerous aroma laced with loneliness that was unmistakably hers, weaved its way to his nose and made him stiffen momentarily. Slayer. That was his night buggered then. Slinking around the side of a crypt, he glared into the night. There she was, little blonde head bouncing in the dim moonlight as she fought with a vampire. Suddenly captivated by her deadly grace, he watched her dance with her quarry, movements fluid and graceful. He inhaled unnecessarily as he watched, a small smirk playing around his lips and a dark fire burning in the depths of his icy eyes. She was good. He recalled the last time he’d fought her, felt her power as she’s slammed him against a wall time after time, made him swallow his own blood as the world span.
He shook his head quickly and glanced down. He was hard? What the-
Must be the thought of killin’ her, he reasoned. He wondered briefly what it would be like to actually fuck the Slayer, pounding into her and knowing she could take it, knowing she could respond with equal force and never get exhausted. Bloody hell! Stop it! He growled and turned to walk away unnoticed as she dusted the vampire.
“Spike. I know you’re there. What the hell do you want now?”
He froze and shrugged, keeping his bleached blonde head turned away. “Nothin’ Slayer. Just walking in the graveyard. Vampire, remember?” Carefully hiding his hard-on with his leather duster, he turned to her and smirked. “Or can’t I do that without you breathing down my neck?”
“Oh, get real, Spike. You think I actually care what you do? It’s just that every time I turn around, you’re there like some lost puppy, all big eyes and fangs.”
“Not true, Slayer! I happen to live round here is all.”
“Live? You’re a corpse.”
“Reside then. Whatever.” He was beginning to get angry. He balled his hands into fists by his sides and glared at her small form.
“Ooh. Spikey knows a big word.”
“Sod off, Slayer. Just let me alone to be evil, that’s my girl.”
“I am not your girl.”
It was said so coldly that Spike raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Alright, blondie, cool it. It’s an expression.”
She shook herself slightly. “Whatever, death breath, just go away. Anywhere.”
Lazily, Spike reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lit it slowly. “Why.”
“Because I’m not in the mood, and if you don’t, I have a nice friend called Mr. Pointy who’d love to meet you.”
He couldn’t resist. It was going to cost him, but…
“Yeah? Well I got a pointy friend who’s just aching to meet you an’ all, pet.”
As predicted, she punched him in the nose. “Bugger!”
“You’re a pig, Spike,” she ground out before storming away, cheeks flushed.
“Captain Cardboard not giving you any?” he called after her as she left.
“Shut up, Spike.”
He turned and went back to his crypt, nose still throbbing, as was something else…the raging hard-on in his tight jeans. What the hell was that all about? Slayer? He hated her…right?
Maybe ‘cos I haven’t had a shag for a while. Yeah, that was it. Had to be. Not the Slayer, just repressed sexual tension. And all he had for comfort was a lasting relationship with his left hand. Bollocks.
*****
Buffy never understood her…relationship…with Spike. She loathed him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to stake him when he was particularly obnoxious. If she was honest, she knew she’d never stake him He’s evil, she told herself sternly. Evil. Nasty vampire with fangs…who’d bite you at the first…and with evil hair and evil…muscles…all white and…No! Bad Spike thoughts! “I am NOT thinking about Spike. I am NOT thinking about Spike,” she told herself. She decided a shower was in order. A cold one.
As the freezing water ran in icy sheets down her back, she thought about everything but Spike. She didn’t think about the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t think about how his deep blue eyes flashed with gold when she annoyed him. And she definitely didn’t think about the way he ran his tongue over his teeth when he laughed, or the way she wanted to kiss him every time he did it.
“Shower not helping,” she decided finally, stepping out and towelling herself off before changing into her nightie and crawling into bed. Lying on her back and staring at the ceiling didn’t help either. What the hell is going on? I hate him. I loathe him. I wish the ground would open up and swallow him. And yet…
“I should do a Xander and live in denial,” she muttered, turning onto her side and picking up a book. “It’s warmer.” She glanced at the clock. 2 am.
*****