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Trust
 
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He had been looking for the Slayer for two nights but she’d managed to evade him thus far. Purposefully avoiding him, that was for sure. Well, Spike was having none of that. He’d been all around town looking for her and he wasn’t too fond of having to hunt her down like a tamed little puppy dog. By rights she should have come to him. He was the one who was supposed to be in charge here. Have himself a little fun with Buffy and then kick her to the curb. That was always the way. But since their last meeting the balance of power had shifted.

For the first time since he got back in town she actually seemed to be behaving like herself again. Partly, at least. She had laid down the ground rules of their relationship – if it could be called that – and made it clear that she wasn’t going to be walked all over by him. Spike kind of liked it, if he was honest. He’d always been a bit of a sucker for being dominated. And her determination and stubbornness had been what first attracted her to him way back when they first fought. Of course, just because she’d been all resolute didn’t mean he was actually going to do what she asked. Stop killing? Not bloody likely. He was a vampire. It was, as he had once told Angelus, their raison d’être. Still, she didn’t have to know that. Spike was fine with her believing he’d gone down the reformation route. It kept her off his back – in the non-literal sense only – and it meant he had the best of both worlds.

He jumped over the gate to Buffy’s back garden deftly, keeping to the shadows and being as quiet as possible. It would do no good to alert his presence to Buffy or, even worse, her mum.

Spike scaled the trellis placed again the wall of the house, and then climbed onto the small ledge of roof outside the Slayer’s window. He peeked in and could see her laying in bed, or rather just a mass of blonde hair was visible above the covers. The window had been left open a crack, which was handy for him. He slid it up swiftly and climbed into her room. She didn’t wake up. Probably knackered from slaying and being such a depressed bint.

It still gave him some pleasure that she had yet to revoke his invitation into her house. She knew he was dangerous, so either she trusted him or she had a death wish. Giving her present state of mind it was probably the latter.

Spike kicked off his boots and shrugged the duster off, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He glided across the floor and over to her bed. Leaning over her he could see Buffy was still fast asleep. Her face looked troubled, even when resting. Her eyebrows knitted and her lips set in a frown. He slipped into bed behind her as gently as he could. His arms snaked around her waist and he awaited her inevitable indignant scream regarding his being in her bed. Instead, she stayed mercifully silent. Still asleep.

Spike was flummoxed for a moment but then a grin spread across his lips. He’d make sure she got a pleasant awakening.
The vampire’s hand slithered up the front of her tank top, his cold hand reacting to the warmth of her skin beneath it. He saw the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, the goose bumps rising, but still she slept on. He ran a fingertip along the underside of her breast, noting with approval that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Spike used his other hand to sweep the hair away from her neck, he placed a soft kiss there, and the feel of her pulse steadily beating against his lips almost made him change into game face. He held it back though, knowing that if the Slayer woke up to find him nuzzling her neck with his fangs on display he’d get a sharp stick to the heart.

He moved his mouth to her shoulder, kissing the bare skin exposed there. Spike pushed the strap of her top down her arm, displaying a small portion of her scarred skin. He ran his fingers lightly over them and she instinctively shifted away from his touch even in her sleep.

Pulling her back to him, he spooned more closely against her back, burying his face into her hair and inhaling the scent of her. She always smelt so damn good. Spike found that Slayers always had an appealing smell to them but with Buffy it manifested itself tenfold. A primal part of him was attracted to the Slayer but Spike found that he, actually, found Buffy Summers more captivating. Sure she was a ditzy blonde Californian girl but there was something else underneath that. He’d seen it, even back when they’d first met. And now that she’d shut herself off from her pals and her mother he could sense it even stronger. There was a coldness inside her, a darkness. She was a mixture of light and dark.

And Spike identified with that.

He was by no means good but he had the capacity to be good. He just chose not to be. The dark ruled over him, the light suffusing below the surface. Spike was aware of his difference to other vampires like Angelus, Darla or Drusilla. He could be as evil as they were but there were moments when he simply wasn’t. Sometimes, that poncy git William reared his ugly head. It made no sense, really, since he lacked a soul. But ever since he’d been turned Spike had the nagging feeling the geeky sod had managed to cling onto him instead of being swept away.

The softer side of him always seemed to manifest itself around women, too. He could slaughter a whole town with glee but the minute he laid eyes on Drusilla his stomach would flip-flop and for a moment he felt like a schoolboy. With Buffy, he’d always wanted to kill her, but beneath that all he’d held a bit of a candle for her ever since he first watched her dance. Nothing serious, just thought she was a pretty bit of skirt. He’d wanted to kill her and kiss her in equal measure.

Buffy’s foot moved backwards and hit his leg, a moment later the blonde tensed in his arms. Spike knew she had woken up. She was probably deciding the best course of action for finding someone in bed with her who hadn’t been there earlier.

“Comfy?” He drawled, announcing himself.

She didn’t relax a jot. “…what are you doing here?”

“Came to see my best girl, didn’t I?” He replied jovially. “She promised me a kiss if I was a good boy”

Buffy broke away from his hold and sat up in bed. She turned around to face him and inched towards the furthest side of the mattress away from him. Spike propped his face on his hand and looked her over – with the bed hair and the bleary eyes, not to mention the polar bear pyjama bottoms, she looked adorable even to an evil git such as himself.

Buffy’s expression turned into something not-so-adorable. “Get out of my bed, get out of my house. And, hey, get out of town if you’re feeling generous.”

“Now, now. That’s no way to treat a paramour.”

“You’re not my para-anything,” Buffy groused. “And I notice how you’re still not getting the hell out”

Spike sat up slowly, stretching. “What’s gotten your knickers in a twist?”

The Slayer rolled her eyes at his choice of words before her face returned to its sullen disposition again. She threw the covers off of her legs and turned away from him, sitting on the edge of her bed with her back to him. Spike arched an eyebrow and wondered if this was the part where he was supposed to comfort her. He almost snorted aloud. He wasn’t the dutiful boyfriend, he wasn’t even a friend. Still, he found himself crawling up next to her and sitting with his legs dangling off the bed in a position that mirrored hers.

Buffy barely glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Like you care, Spike. Like you even care what’s wrong.”

“You’re right; I don’t,” Spike nodded. “But why don’t you tell me anyway?”

“It’s nothing. Just my friends stopped by a few days ago.”

Spike frowned. “And this is a bad thing?”

“They stopped by to tell me they don’t like who I’ve become,” She looked at him. “And it’s not like they’re wrong. I mean, look at me.”

He did look at her “Seem perfectly fine to me.”

“Yeah, ’cos perfectly fine Buffy would really close herself off from her friends and have sex with you.”

“I’d like to think so,” Spike grinned.

“Why am I talking to you?” She huffed.

“Look, love, the truth of the matter is your friends are ninnies,” Spike announced. “They handled you all wrong, from what I can gather. They didn’t know how to deal with you so they just didn’t. Kept their distance, hoped you’d just revert to Happy Sunshine Buffy. People don’t work that way. If they don’t have anyone to keep them afloat, they’ll sink and drown.”

She regarded him suspiciously. “The fact that that made some kind of sense to me really just goes to show that hell has frozen over.”

“I understand humans, Buffy. I was one for a while. And now, being set apart from the whole race I can still observe and laugh at pathetic human behaviour.” Spike leaned back on his hands.

She glared at him “Right. Like vampires are so perfect.”

“Far from it,” he acquiesced. “But we just kill anyone that makes us feel low. Want me to wipe out your old mob for you? Be a pleasure.”

“I thought you were being a good boy, now.”

Spike smirked, “Haven’t given me my kiss yet, I could still revert to form.”

“And how do I know you’re not still killing?”

“Trust me.”

Buffy scoffed. “Not likely –”

He shut her up with a kiss. Spike’s arms slid around her waist and he pulled her close. And, for all her many protestations, she kissed him back hungrily after her initial surprise faded. He felt her hands tangling in his hair and sighed into her mouth. The Slayer kissed like she fought – vicious and uncompromising. He loved it.

Spike moved down onto the bed, taking her with him and placing her on top of him. She straddled his waist uneasily and he kissed her more softly to soothe her. And, somehow, the kiss turned slow and sensual and not at all like any of the others kisses they had shared with each other. Buffy’s tongue slid smoothly over his as her fingers drew circles on his chest. He trailed his hand down her bare arm, feeling the hairs rise up in his path, and her hips push into his, and knew he had to have her right there and then.

So, naturally, Buffy pulled away. She sat upright, her back ramrod straight as she looked down at him warily.

Then she did something unexpected. She grinned.

“Oh, I get it,” she arched an eyebrow. “You think you can throw around a few insightful words and you’re gonna get you some.”

Spike sniggered. “You’ve got me pegged, Slayer.”

Buffy,” she corrected. “I mean, unless I’m slaying you, then it’s Slayer. And Miss. Summers if I’m asking you for a loan.”

He rubbed his forehead in a sign of stress. “Please tell me I’m going to get a shag after this very useful lecture on the naming of things.”

“You’re a prick,” Buffy smacked him on the shoulder and started to climb off him.

Spike sat up with her still straddling his lap, and grabbed her arms. Her hands went to his shoulders, eyes searching his face for malicious intent. He placed a soft kiss on her jaw line, followed it with another behind her ear and then down on her neck. She didn’t even tense. Maybe it was because she wanted him to bite her. His hands moved down her arms and to her waist, gathering up the bottom of her tank top he started to lift it up. Buffy placed her hands on top of his to stop him.

“My mom’s in the next room.” She informed him seriously.

Spike waited for her to elaborate and when she didn’t asked, “Yeah, so?”

“So, she’ll hear!”

“Best be quiet then, hadn’t you?” He teased, pulling her top up over her body and head, tossing it to the floor casually.
Buffy automatically crossed her arms over her breasts to conceal them from him. He rolled his eyes and took one of her wrists in each hand, pulling them away. Spike’s eyes looked her over unabashed before he bowed his head and pressed his lips to the hollow of her collarbone, arms snaking around her waist to rest on her lower back. It was then that she shifted off of his lap and scuttled backwards on the mattress.

“Buffy, I’ve seen them before,” he groaned, referring to her scars, “I’ve touched them before. Come back ’ere.” When she made no move to do as he asked Spike looked into her eyes and spoke, “I’ve lived a long life, Buffy. I’ve seen things that’d make you scream, things that are sick and twisted and revolting. Things your mind won’t even let you conjure up. And, you know what? You’re not one of them. You’re not disgusting. Far from it. So, you have a few scars, so bloody what? Everyone does. Yours just happen to be more visible than other people’s. People, in general, are royally fucked up. Their scars are in their heads. Yours are on your back. They’re behind you. So, put them behind you. Forget about them.”

Her eyes swept over him cynically, “Easy for you to say, Spike. You’re not the one who’s scarred for life.”

“No, I’m not.”

Spike expected her to give him the brush off. It was, after all, her raison d’être. But she’d surprised him more than once tonight and it seemed that he was about to get another one. Buffy crawled towards him on the bed and in her topless state it was a very pleasant view. Then she climbed onto his lap, reinstating her earlier position there. Before he could make some arrogant comment about this she slammed her lips down on his and he suddenly didn’t find it so important.

He wrapped his arms around her and slowly slid his hands up the length of her back. She stiffened in his arms, pulling just far enough away for her forehead to touch his as she looked him in the eyes. Spike gazed back at her a little perplexed. She had avoided any kind of deep eye contact with him ever since he’d made his presence known. His hands glided over the rough and smooth of her back, the warmth of her skin pleasant to his cold body.

“Turn around,” he instructed, voice hoarse.

Buffy pulled away further then. Spike kept his hold on her and watched her face earnestly. A few moments passed before the Slayer sucked in a shuddering breath and turned herself around, sitting back down on his lap. Spike eyes swept over the scars, they looked darker in the moonlight. He could feel her trembling and understood how much it must have taken her to do this. To let him see, again. And it made him feel guilty about lying to her. He wasn’t supposed to feel guilty but he did. Spike was on the verge of just calling it all off when she spoke.

“So,” Buffy said, a nervous tremor in her voice, “regretting seeing the full monty again?”

Spike barked out a laugh “Oh, this is no where near the full monty. And, no. Not regretting. Just admiring.”

“Yeah, it’s a sight for sore eyes,” Buffy riposted a tinge of self-deprecation evident.

Spike found himself wanting her all over again. She was so fragile and vulnerable these days but he would still see flashes of the old Buffy Summers in her. As if to back up his observation, she began to move her hips around in slow, grinding circles against his. Spike’s eyes widened and a small smile curved at his lips. He kissed her shoulder and then dipped his head lower, kissing along the jut of her shoulder blade. She made a small sound as his lips landed on a particularly ruinous looking scar. He placed a hand on her back and attempted to push her forward, so she would be positioned on her hands and knees in front of him.

Buffy wasn’t quite so compliant this time.

“What are you doing?” She asked, resisting his semi-gentle pressure.

“I want you on all fours.” Spike explained casually.

Buffy snorted, “Not a chance, Spike. Now take off your clothes.”

This girl just did not stop baffling him. He laughed aloud but after she climbed off of him, he did as she asked – shedding his shirt, T-shirt and jeans he resumed his position naked as the day he was born. Buffy had followed suit and got rid of the pyjama bottoms. Spike just admired the view for a few moments before reaching out to her.

She shook her head and climbed onto his lap, her back against his chest. “God, what am I doing?”

“Me,” he grinned, taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth and pulling it gently.

Buffy hissed and lifted herself up to get the right angle before she slid down onto his cock. Spike gasped at the sensation, the heat of her, and bucked his hips up driving himself in deeper. As they rocked together he found himself noticing the way it felt when his chest rubbed against her back. The sensation was an odd one, bordering on pleasant, as the rough patches moved against his smooth skin. His hands slid around and up to fondle her breasts as she began to move faster, leaning forwards slightly to find a better angle for her. Spike bent his head down to kiss and lick her scars, still not quite believing that the Slayer was riding him. And it wasn’t even the first time they’d fucked. He started grinning goofily to himself and was half glad she couldn’t see the expression on his face. I’m a lucky sod, oh yeah he thought to himself as he lets his hands roam over her body.

He’d never been with someone so warm, so alive. And what she lacked in experience she definitely made up for in vigour, in the very physicality of every one of her touches, in every one of her movements.

“Buffy,” Spike sighed in her ear, almost in delirium, as she moved her hips around in a circle while he was still encased in her.

She arched her back as she neared her orgasm, back of her head resting against his shoulder and giving him a partial view of her face and the line of her torso, “This the great vampire stamina you keep boasting about?” she smirked.

Spike’s eyes narrowed and he kissed her roughly, his neck bent at an odd angle to reach her lips. He placed his hands firmly on her waist and thrust into her slower and more laboriously, prolonging the experience and bringing her down from the edge of ecstasy. She moaned a little in both disappointment and anticipation of a greater pleasure. As he inched his way out of her, deliberately drawing it out, Spike began to think that maybe he should just leave town. Just leave the Slayer well enough alone. It’d be better for her. She’d make up with her moronic pals, buck up and be the Little Slayer Who Could all over again. He knew this thing that they had would not end well and for one reason or another he actually cared. It was like he was in a parallel universe – he cared how Buffy Summers felt.

But then she reached up and ran her hand down his cheek so softly that he actually quivered inside her. Her hand fixed around his neck and she pulled his face down, pushing it into her neck. The heat of her skin, the pulse beneath it, made him thrust into her harder than he intended, bumping against her cervix and making her cry out. Spike pulled up and kissed her temple in apology, drawing himself out of her once again before sinking back in slightly faster this time. Buffy rocked back and forth on him, starting out slowly, her momentum getting faster and faster.

“Spike,” she groaned, annoyed, clearly wanting him to finish her off.

Spike arched an eyebrow “What, pet? Don’t want me to showcase my stamina anymore?”

“No!” Buffy leant forward again; the friction between their bodies was pleasurable agony.

“Want to come right quick?” He asked, his voice sounding casual but he was anything but.

She nodded vigorously and Spike was secretly relieved. He didn’t know how much longer he could have kept himself from coming if she’d insisted upon the whole tantric bit. Just because it was good enough for Sting didn’t mean much to Spike. He’d met the man once and found him to be a nice enough bloke, if not a touch eccentric. But that was hardly relevant, Spike reminded himself.

He increased the speed of his strokes and watched curiously as Buffy took one of his hands from her waist and guided it down over her hip, to her clitoris. He obliged, touching her gently between the legs, whilst whispering inconsequential things into her ear, making her shudder. His touch became rougher, running the nail of his finger over her and making her whimper. Spike loved that sound.

He continued to use his hand to bring her pleasure at the same time he pulled out of her and slammed into her hard enough that she came without warning, Buffy cried out in surprise as much as euphoria. When her inner muscles clenched and unclenched around him Spike could no longer stop himself from coming inside her, even as she was still riding the waves of her own orgasm.

All he could hear was Buffy’s shuddering breaths, and the pounding of her heart, for a moment before he collapsed backwards onto the bed, taking a very satisfied Slayer with him.



A/N: Talk about the chapter that would never end! Crickey. Thanks for all the reviews and keep them coming.
 
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