Spike looked up at the beige tiled ceiling, and sighed to himself. His
head was hurting from where Buffy had smacked him for the millionth
time; there was a dull ache in his stomach from not being fed for a
while; and in addition to everything else, there was a throb in his
groin from the whole lack of sex. He hadn't gotten any in weeks and
weeks, and that was bugging him more than anything else. He had come
close with Buffy about a week ago, but that wasn't really important. He
figured that spells didn't much count.
"Can I get a little bit of food in here?" he demanded, trying to get
the attention of one of his captors.
He heard them speaking in another part of the apartment, but from his
spot chained up in the bathtub, he couldn't make out what was being
said. "You could at least bring me a cookie, or even a beer would be
nice..."
A moment later, Buffy walked into the bathroom, carrying a mug full of
blood, and a straw. She observed his position in the tub for a minute,
and then set the mug down on the counter. "You've got it made, Spike,"
she said.
In a way that was true. He wasn't completely uncomfortable, and Anya
had been sweet enough to bring him a pillow to put behind his head, so
he wouldn't be leaning against the cold, hard wall. It would have been
much better if he didn't have his hands and feet chained together,
however.
Buffy knelt beside the tub, and placed the straw inside the mug. Spike
inspected the straw, and wrinkled his nose. "I'm not drinking this
through that." It was one of those blue curly straws, with a little
Micky Mouse character on it. "No way."
"You're this far away from being hand-fed, and you're complaining about
a straw?" Buffy asked in amazement.
"Can't you just choose one a little less...cheerful?"
"You've gone through all the other straws Giles owns. It's not my fault
that you have a habit of biting things."
"Why would Giles have something as ridiculous as that?" Spike laughed.
"Xander brought it back for him when he went to Disneyland during the
summer. It's either this or Minnie."
"Alright, alright," Spike grumbled.
Buffy offered the mug again, and he reluctantly sucked the blood up
through it. She chuckled, watching him, and then started to laugh. The
sight of Spike drinking blood through a curly straw, sitting in a
bathtub, was decidedly too much to bear. Spike clenched his fists, and
tried to ignore her. He was grateful when her laughs died away, and
continued to drink.
She pulled it away after a second, allowing him to take a quick break
before he downed the whole thing. He coughed. "It's a bit cold," he
began. "Whatever happened to the 98.6 degrees treatment I got from you
last week?"
"I shouldn't even have to answer that," she replied. "But if you don't
like it, you don't have to drink anything at all. You're lucky that I'm
the one doing this for you instead of someone like Xander. He'd just
hand it to you straight out of the fridge."
"Why are you doing this for me?" Spike asked suddenly.
Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "Because I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," he murmured. "In everything we do, there's a
choice."
Buffy just shoved the straw between his lips to quiet him, and he
started to drink once more. She couldn't stop herself from watching him
again. Her attention was somehow directed to his mouth, and her mind
was flooded with memories from before.
Hadn't she just been kissing those lips a week earlier? Those sweet,
cool lips... She unconsciously licked her own suddenly dry lips, and
swallowed. She couldn't be thinking about him like this. She just
couldn't.
Spike cleared his throat, jolting her back to reality. He spit the
straw out. "I'm finished," he announced, sarcastically stating the
obvious.
Buffy nodded wordlessly, and then got to her feet. As she was about to
leave, he called out her name softly. She turned back around to face
him, and sighed. "What?"
"Do you believe in what I mentioned? About having a choice in
everything?" he inquired.
Buffy nodded again slowly. "Yes. To me, choice is pretty much about
control, and I like the idea of being in control of my own life."
"Do you think that we had a choice in what happened last week?"
There was an awkward silence in the room induced by his question. He
looked up at her gravely, but she refused to make eye contact.
"I-No," she said brokenly, "we didn't. It was a spell, and that was it.
We didn't have a choice anywhere in that."
He shook his head, and a vague smile crossed his lips. "You see...I
actually believed that I did...have a choice, that is. There was
nothing that happened that I hadn't thought about at least twice
before."
Spike glanced back up at her, and Buffy didn't respond right away. But
then, she set the mug back down on the counter with a little swear, and
dropped to her knees. She pulled him as close as the chains would
allow, and crushed her mouth to his passionately.
Spike tried to move his arms up to reach her, but the chains were
preventing him. All he could manage was to run his fingers across her
cheek and jaw. Buffy gently cradled his chin as her lips moved hungrily
against his, and she felt his tongue coaxing hers to play. She pulled
away then, to catch her breath.
Buffy met his icy blue eyes, and she tried to decipher what she saw in
them. It was plainly obvious that Spike had wanted to kiss her, and he
wanted to again, but she didn't know what else was on his mind.
"Why are we doing this?" she asked quietly.
"Because..." he answered softly, "I think you know that I want you real
badly, and that pretty much covers why I'd be kissing you."
"Why would you want me?" she said in disbelief.
He shrugged. "I guess I have for a little while. I don't really want to
start gushing, but you're a very desirable person. Last week...there
was a big part of me that didn't want it to end."
"But what about the rest of you?"
"The rest..." he let his voice trail off for a moment. "The rest of me
knew that it had to."
"I would have stopped it anyhow," she pointed out.
Spike's face fell at her words. "Why? You mean to tell me that it felt
that bad?" Buffy looked down at her hands, not answering. "I know that
was the last thought to cross your mind," he prodded. "Of course to
you, the fact that it was me made it bad."
Buffy looked up at him in surprise. She was actually making him feel
bad! But that didn't make her feel any better, because...why? "No,
Spike. You're wrong. I can't say that there's much left to be desired
about you, 'cause...there isn't, really. Except for the whole killer
bit...which you aren't anymore."
"Are you saying that you want me?" he questioned with a small smile.
Buffy struggled to find the words. She finally gave up. "You think it's
that simple?" she asked him. "Every time I see you, there's the slow
realization of that I want you. It doesn't go away; instead, it gets
worse. I know perfectly well that I'm supposed to hate you, but that
all changes the moment you come into view."
"Then why are you fighting it?" Spike wasn't sure who really initiated
the next kiss, but he did know that it was every bit as sweet as the
last one, maybe even more. He got the long-forgotten feeling of joy
deep within him, and he didn't want it to go away.
Spike moved his mouth away, and then lowered it to her throat. Buffy
gasped, and he wondered if it was out of fear or pleasure. He lavished
attention on her neck with his tongue and lips, nipping playfully at
the skin with blunt teeth. Buffy forced him away, and then captured his
lips for another kiss.
After another moment, she seemed to realize something, for she broke
the kiss. Spike growled a little in disappointment, but she hushed him.
"I can't do this," she told him.
He tried to argue, but she was determined to finish what she had to
say. "As much as I want you, I have feelings for someone else."
"Of course it wouldn't be me," he whispered.
She shook her head. "No, it's not that."
"But it is," Spike reminded her. "Don't bother trying to deny it, pet.
I know you'd be lying."
"I'm sorry." She stood up, and was about to walk out the door, but he
stopped her.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked her in a choked voice. "Tell me
what, because I don't know!"
"I don't know, either." Buffy left a bit reluctantly, despite his
efforts to get her to stay.
When Spike realized that she wasn't going to come back, he let out a
little sob. He wanted to howl. Why did this have to happen to him? The
moment he decided to stop the defensive act, he was attacked, and his
heart was torn out. What would have happened if he had told her
everything? Told her that she haunted his days and nights the way no
other could, and that he could finally say that he knew what it felt
like to love someone with his entire being? She would have killed him
inside. But felt like he was already dying.
Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall and inhaled
deeply. His unlife was a terrible mess. He was a poor excuse for a
vampire, chained up in a bathtub, with his broken heart exposed for all
to see. If he couldn't have Buffy, what was there honestly left to live
for?
The End
