A/N- This is my first story. I do not really write stories but I like to think of myself as creative. So please tell me what you think, criticism is more than welcome. I do apologize for any grammer and/or spelling mistakes. I do check over my documents carefully, but there may be a mistake or two. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy.
A SPUFFY story. Starts after Buffy and Spike deal with the aftermath of their 'Night of Passion' just before Buffy arrives home. (Episode 'Wreaked').
Chapter 1- Realization.
She had to admit- that was the best night of... well... anything she had ever experienced. At first she really did want to kill him (or at the least seriously injure him) but then, before she knew what had hit her, it had already happened. She could not get her head around everything. Why did she kiss him in the first place? She had convinced herself she was under the spell from the demon that turned the town into a musical. Though deep down this was not the case. Deep down she knew it. But she had spent her time convincing herself otherwise. After that first kiss, she had not wanted a person more than him ever in her whole life. While they were fighting, while she was still wanting to kill him, she also wanted to kiss him. So she did. Which that lead from one thing, to another, to another. After she woke, finding him lying next to her, she was disgusted with herself. She searched for a reason behind what had happened. She found nothing. Nothing that could compare to what she had done. So she got herself out of there, obviously with a fight. Nonetheless she got out of there, thankful that the sun was out.
She arrived home, she looked beat and just wanted to get herself cleaned up. To her dismay everyone was already up, making her entrance through the back door unsuccessful.
"Buffy?" came a sweet voice from the inside of the house.
"Hi Dawn", Buffy replied, almost at a whisper, as she opened the back door to the kitchen. She smiled back at her sister while she tried her best not to limp as she made her way to the stairs.
"You look beat", Dawn started to question making sure she spoke a little louder so her sister could hear her from the stairway.
Buffy sighed, turning back to the kitchen. Only just stepping in to reply, "Yeah... um... it was just a minor demon. Nothing you should worry about. If you don't mind, I'm just going to head upstairs to sleep." Buffy answered, replying to all the questions she knew her sister had to ask.
"Oh, yeah sure." Dawn said trying to sound as if she was okay with the situation. Buffy noticed that she was not, but she ignored it as she limped her way upstairs.
Buffy reached her bedroom where she sat on her bed momentarily before she made her way to the bathroom.
She had bruises on her face and several more covering her body. Her clothing was covered in dust from the building's collapse. She took a deep breathe, followed by a deep stare into the mirror. Taking a step towards the door she grabbed the doorknob and opened the doorway to a small crack, before re-closing it. After turning the hot bath faucet on, she cautiously undressed herself trying to set as little pain as possible onto her many wounds, before she hopped into the bathtub. She lied down for a second in the half full tub, before sitting up to grab the bubble bath. After the tub was full with bubbly steaming hot water she turned off the faucet and rested her head on the back edge of the tub. She was exhausted, and before long had drifted off to sleep.
He sat, satisfied with what he had just achieved. She had made the first move? He questioned this, but not carefully enough as it quickly passed his mind. That moment when she looked into his eyes, after she had placed herself inside him, was a strange look that he had been sitting there trying to figure out. Was it a look of pleasure? A confused look? He just could not place his finger on what her face tried to explain. His mind trailed off from this as he thought how fantastic it had been. A slayer. The blood of the slayer was one magnificent, trilling experience. But doing a slayer? That was a completely different thing. Her actions, her sounds, her beauty. It all added up to one terrific night, one he knew he would not forget. He also wondered whether it would happen again. If it was up to him, of course it would. But her thoughts were much different to hers. But if this could happen, at all, then he knew he could make it happen again.
He sat up and looked up into the fallen building. It was still sun light. He lay surrounded in the fallen debris, still naked from the previous night. He looked back down to his lower body, just thinking about the night he realized he had stiffened. Wishing she was back here, he stood up and searched the building for something to drink. The night had left him famished, draining every last inch of energy. He knew there would be nothing to drink here but he pursued his search anyway. Lifting a big piece of roofing he heard a small chuckle from the stairs of the building. He turned to see a pale figured dressed in a long black dress. Her long black hair hung straight along her back, a few pieces separated to sit on her shoulders. She held her hands together across her front, fingernails carefully painted black. He studied her before she let out another chuckle which finished with a wide smile.
"Spike", she cheerfully spoke, lifting her hands straight out in front of her.
Spike studied her for a second longer, before he tilted his head to the right and released a small and questionable, "Drusilla?"