lit_gal | The Cost of Butterfly Kisses

The Cost of Butterfly Kisses, Part 19

Fandom/Pairing: BtVS, Spike/Xander

Rated: ADULT

Summary: Spike wants to be the one who is there for Buffy, but life has never been that kind to him..

WARNING: This series follows seasons 6 and 7 of BtVS. The events of Seeing Red are included, just in a form more in keeping with this Spike and this universe. If that epidode upset you, this chapter will too.

(Chapter One... ) ( Chapter Two... ) ( Chapter Three... ) ( Chapter Four... ) ( Chapter Five ) ( Chapter Six ) ( Chapter 7 ) ( Chapter 8 ) ( Chapter Nine ) ( Chapter Ten ) ( Chapter Eleven ) ( Chapter Twelve ) ( Chapter Thirteen ) ( Chapter 14 . ) ( Chapter 15 ) ( Chapter 16 ) ( Chapter 17 ) ( Chapter 18 )

Nineteen

Then next night, Spike cut through the dungeon level rather than risk running into Xander and his brooding. It reminded him too much of Angel and his constant whining about how he wasn't human anymore. Git. Some days Spike wondered if it wouldn't be a mercy to just stake his overgelled sire.

Of course, if he did that, he'd never get to see Angel's face when the big poof found out that Spike had succeeded where he hadn't. Years ago he'd told those two that love was passion, it was blood and fire and passion, but Angel was such a dead fish that he couldn't match Buffy. Spike was a much better mate. And now that Warren was out of the picture, Spike could focus on the important battle: getting Buffy to stop deceiving herself and everyone else about their feelings. The woman was stubborn. Spike smiled because he was even more stubborn.

The house was dark when Spike strolled up the sidewalk. The door opened and Dawn came sailing out. "I'm off."

"Don't forget—"

"Got it!" Dawn cut her sister off and slammed the door mid-nag.

"Bit," Spike said as he looked at the bag thrown over her shoulder. "So, running away from home, then?"

Dawn laughed and came over to throw her arms around him. Spike hugged her back, feeling her heat and the steady thumping of her heart. The idea that Warren was getting stripped to the bone and eaten just made the feel of her arms around him even better. "I'm having a sleepover at Janice's," she said. She turned and waved at a car. Inside a middle aged woman with jowls waited, a girl about Dawn's age in the front seat waving back.

"You two planning on going out drinking or chasing boys?" Spike asked. Those might be normal enough pastimes for a girl Dawn's age, but if Dawn was planning to do either, Spike needed to make sure they got home safe.

Dawn rolled her eyes at him. "No. What I plan is a night of painting our toenails and watching chick flicks. Are you going to stalk us?"

"For chick flicks? Fuck no," Spike answered. From Dawn's expression, she was telling the truth, but it still bothered Spike a bit that Buffy hadn't warned him the Bit was going out. Sunnydale was a dangerous place, and he wasn't sure this Janice was a safe enough place for her. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it. "You have weapons?" he asked soft enough that no one could overhear.

"Two stakes and a knife. I'm okay, Spike. Geez, you're as big of a worrywart as Buffy."

"Oi!" Spike objected, but then Dawn went up on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek, and he couldn't help but smile at her.

"See you tomorrow!" Dawn said before she ran for her friend's car. Spike watched as she got in and the car vanished. Spike would get Janice's address from Buffy and check the place out before he went home. Felt wrong, having family spread out so much, but that was humanity for you... downright illogical at times.

Spike headed up the steps and walked into Buffy's house without knocking. She was picking up a bowl from the coffee table, and she froze for a second, her whole body tight. Spike smiled. Already she was itching for a quick tumble; he could see it in the way her muscles tenses and her eyes dilated. She said all sort of things when the others were around, but her body would always yearn for him.

"Spike, what are you doing here?"

"Wot? I need an excuse to come visit?"

"Actually, yes. You do. Excuses would be good. You not coming over at all would be better."

Ignoring the insult, Spike walked over to the sofa and threw himself down on it, propping one boot on the table. Buffy hit his foot, and he smiled as he shifted it to the floor. Given a little prodding, Buffy did make a beautiful and vicious domme.

"Is there a reason for your visit?" Buffy put the bowl back on the coffee table, crossed her arms and glared down at him.

"Yep." Spike gave her his best smile, the one that always tempted the good little prey into his bed and made Angelus backhand him. "Wanted to give you a chance to enjoy my company." Buffy snorted. "That and I wanted to let you know Warren's gone. The wanker hired the demon who sent you 'round the twist, so Xander and I took care of him."

Buffy took a step back. "Took care of?"

Spike shrugged. It still irked him that he hadn't been able to take care of it himself, but he wasn't some insecure git who took other's credit. "Xander shot him, twice in the heart."

"Xander...." Buffy made a strange noise in the back of her throat and then she started shaking her head. "No, Xander wouldn't do that."

"Took him too long, but he finally got around to finishing the job." Spike stretched and watched Buffy through half-closed eyes, waiting for her move. Instead Buffy dropped down onto a chair.

"He... he killed Warren? Xander wouldn't do that. He isn't...." Her voice trailed off. Spike wasn't really surprised at the shock though. Hell, up until Xander pulled the trigger, Spike had been starting to wonder if the boy had any balls at all, despite Anya's colorful descriptions of him as being endowed like a Viking.

"When Warren didn't fall for any of the puppy boy's plans, Xander finally went over to deal with him directly."

"Plans?" Buffy glared at Spike.

"You know, talking Jonathan into going down to L.A."

"But...." Buffy was definitely off her game today. "He said he ran into Jonathan, that they just started to talk."

Spike frowned. What the bloody hell was Xander doing lying about what he'd done? The only time Spike had ever lied to Angelus was when he was about to sell him out to the slayer. "He said that?"

"Yeah. Spike, what is he not telling me?"

Spike sat up. Bloody right the slayer could trust him. "The boy and I snatched Jonathan up off the streets, and Xander talked some rot about comic books and right and wrong and then he talked Jonathan into going to stay with that nancy-boy watcher of Angel's."

Buffy smiled. "Okay, that sounds like Xander. Except for the snatching part, which sounds more like you, Spike."

"I helped," Spike agreed. "Bloody chip kept me from doing much but driving."

She nodded. "I bet you helped Xander with killing Warren, too, didn't you?"

"Helped him get the gun and drove him over. Then I was stuck outside listening to him try to talk Warren around to being a white hat. That one wasn't ever going to change, but Xander just kept trying to reason with him until the wanker finally threatened to rape Dawn. Apparently he thought his demon had done its work and you were helpless to protect any of us."

"So Xander killed him?" Buffy had a strange tone to her voice. Spike frowned and tried to figure out what she had running through her head.

"Shot him twice in the heart, but I arranged for some demons to come get the body, so the boy's in the clear." Spike sprawled, his arms stretched out on the back of the couch.

"You." Buffy stopped, her lips pressed tightly together, and Spike could feel a wisp of fear. Back in the day, that look meant Darla was about to take a whip to him until he couldn't stand on his own. "Get out." Buffy's voice was slow and measured.

"Wot?"

"I can't believe you. You backed Xander into a corner, and then you're going to come over here bragging about it?" Buffy was up on her feet, a finger pointed in his direction, and Spike sat up fast. "What? Isn't it enough that you corrupted me, but now you have to go ruining Xander's life?"

"I never—"

"Get out." Buffy's whole body was trembling, and Spike could smell the aggression and need rolling from her like a heavy fog.

"Going to play that game again, are we?" Spike stood up, bending his elbows as he prepared for the attack. Buffy did like her games, almost as much as she liked ripping through his back with her nails, leaving him bleeding and sore. Spike's cock was getting hard in anticipation.

"I told you, we're done."

"I heard that chorus before, luv." Spike pursed his lips and stalked closer, lured by the scent of Buffy's desire. She was breathing fast, and he could hear each heavy breath and her heart pounding.

"I mean it this time."

"No, luv, you don't," Spike said. "No need to keep lying to yourself?"

"Don't say that!" Buffy's fists came up, and her smell sharpened. Breathing in the scent of Buffy's desire, Spike smiled. "Just...." Buffy stepped back. "Okay, so I have some feelings."

"Some?"

"Okay, more than some. I have a lot of hard, sweaty feelings. But it's not love. Don't you see that?"

Spike moved forward again. "I see how much you want me."

"Do you see that I can't trust you?" Buffy's words cut through Spike, and he stopped. If this was some new game of hers, he didn't like it. Often as not she verbally and physically dominated him, but she'd never questioned his loyalty.

"You think I'd sell you out, side with some wanker like Warren who wanted to kill you?"

Buffy sighed. "No." Spike tried to not show the relief he felt at that, and Buffy kept on going. "But I can't trust you to understand what I'm feeling, what I need."

That made Spike laugh. "Trust is for old marrieds, Buffy. Great love is wild ... and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes." He stalked forward. "That's what you need. You need to let the fire take you until you don't have to think about anything but the passion." Spike had seen it a dozen times, the way Buffy's pain and loss would fall from her in the middle of their sex. She'd start full of conflicts and hurt, but he'd erase that... make her feel alive and whole and dominate.

"But until there's nothing left," she said softly. "Until there's nothing left of me... of the people I love. Love like that doesn't last, and how many people are going to be hurt?" That slight sour of pain was there in her scent, and Spike snorted at the wrongness of that. She just needed to slip back into their roles, and she could let that pain slide away.

"I know you feel the passion. You don't have to hide it anymore." Spike reached out, but Buffy yanked her hand away before Spike could catch it.

"Spike, please stop trying to make this work. It won't."

"Let yourself feel it." Spike whispered the words, his voice a plea. When he moved forward, she hesitated, and he slipped his hands around her waist, feeling all that strength below her skin. She was more demon than human some days, and he could see the wildness in her now.

"No."

"You love me." Spike leaned in to kiss her, waiting for her legs to wrap around him, taking him to the ground.

"No, stop it." She sounded cranky now, and Spike smiled and tried to grind his body against her. She just needed reminding of just what he could do for her.

"Admit it, luv. We're made for each other."

Buffy caught his arm and wrenched it so that muscle and tendon strained. Spike hissed through his teeth, his cock totally hard now. He grabbed her hair and tried to pull her close for a kiss. He loved that she would use his body any way she wanted, but he craved a kiss. She pushed at his shoulders, letting go of his arm, and Spike grappled for dominance. He'd never get it, but pushing Buffy to take control was the best part of the game.

"Ow, stop it." Buffy twisted and fabric ripped in Spike's hand. Well, that was one more shirt for the rubbish bin. He'd hear about that later, but not until Buffy was hot and stated, her limp body lying across his.

"What the hell do you—" Buffy's words were cut off as she hit the chair with the back of her leg and tumbled to the ground. Spike was on her in a second, pinning her to the ground and smelling the aggression like a perfume.

"Ow!" Buffy tried to crab walk out of the small space between the coffee table and chair, but Spike had her trapped.

"Let it go. Let yourself love me."

"Get off me!" Buffy brought up a knee that caught Spike just under the ribs, and he grunted in pain.

"Fuck yeah." His eyes went yellow and his whole body was tense, ready for a fight or a fuck. He hadn't felt this since Dru... or since Dru'd stopped having good days, anyway. After Prague, they'd never been the same. His vicious plum had seemed to barely notice him most of the time, but Buffy wasn't going to ignore him. She couldn't claim to be off talking to stars or dolls. When she needed him, he'd given up everything to be hers, and she was going to see just how much he loved her, no matter what he had to do. "You have more in you than that, luv," Spike crooned.

"No, stop it!"

"I know you feel our passion, our fire. When I'm inside you, that's when you come alive." Spike ran a tongue over her neck, feeling the heat and tasting the salt.

Buffy shoved him back and scrambled for the couch. Spike reached out, catching her foot, and she went down in an inglorious heap, her head hitting the coffee table with a loud crack. Spike flinched. If they broke that, he was never hearing the bloody end of it.

"Ow. no, Spike don't, please," Buffy cried out.

"I know how to make it all better. Going to make you feel good," Spike promised. He reached for her, and she made an awkward roll to the side to get out of his way, almost like she meant to lose the battle. That wasn't part of their normal game at all, but he'd done that for Dru often enough, taking the dominant role, playing at a relationship that didn't really exist between them. On the worst days, she'd call him daddy when she'd begged him to hurt her. Spike shoved that memory aside and focused on Buffy.

He focused a half-second too late. Buffy's punch caught him in the middle of the face and sent him sailing backwards. He hit the chair, tumbled over it, and crashed to the ground.

Spike bounced back up, confused and bleeding from the nose. That soddin' hurt.

"Stop!" Buffy said coldly. Her tone more than her word stopped him. Spike frowned at what he saw. Her body was defensive, but not coiled with power the way it usually was when they were together. Instead she almost looked like she was curling up inside herself, hugging her own body the way the puppy boy would. She held one side of her blouse up, the fabric ripped and a rug burn already showing through on the skin below.

"Buffy?" Spike cocked his head and sniffed the air. Her musk was there, dominating the space, but instead of being tinted with lust and power, there was a weariness in it, a pain that he'd never smelled before. Spike looked at her again, slowly realizing that this wasn't like every other time they'd been together. She wasn't fighting back. She wasn't digging her fingernails into his back and demanding that his body yield in ways a human couldn't survive.

"Ask me again why I could never love you," Buffy asked quietly.

Spike's blood turned to ice. He hadn't meant-- He never—Spike's thoughts chased through his head as he remembered every time they'd been together, every time he'd had to taunt her, encourage that demoness to slip out from under the weary and defeated woman Buffy had become.

"Buffy, my god, I didn't—" Spike stopped. He didn't mean to try and rape her. That was Angelus' game, and Spike generally preferred his partners willing. He wanted them reaching for him, not crawling to get away. He'd had enough of lovers who didn't actually want him. However, before he could explain any of that, Buffy cut him off.

"Because I stopped you," she snapped, and he had no comeback for that. "Which is something I should have done a long time ago."

"We're good together," Spike argued. Okay, he'd fucked this up, but there was room to recover.

"No, we aren't," Buffy said firmly. "You convinced Xander to kill someone. You convince me to—" She stopped.

"You loved every second," Spike snapped. He'd never made her do anything. Not until things had just gotten out of hand.

"I shouldn't have, Spike. That's my point. You need to leave, and you need to not come back." Buffy crossed her arms.

Spike wanted to argue, to slide up close to her and whisper in her ear. He wanted to feel her hands holding him down, fingers pressing deep into his flesh. However, some little part of his brain cautioned him that he was dangerously close to provoking the slayer in her. Spike backed up toward the door.

"Spike," Buffy said. Spike looked at her. "I mean it. Don't ever come back. I can't trust you, and I won't have you around Dawn."

Spike turned and strode out the door, his guts twisting so painfully that he actually touched his stomach to check for some sort of wound. Fuck. Fuck it all. It wasn't his fault. He just... he didn't understand how people worked. He didn't understand Xander or Tara or Buffy with her fucking rules that never made one bit of sense. Spike found himself running down the dark road without any destination in mind.

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