Author: kira-nerys
Title: Better than Ashes.
Rating: PG
Pairing: B/S
Summary: Tabula Rasa: What happened between the scene where Buffy turns away from Spike and the scene of the sizzling kiss?
Spoilers: Tabula Rasa indeed.
Disclaimer: Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon owns everything. I own nothing. Not even that gorgeous leather duster.
Feedback. Yes, please at kardasi@kardasi.com
Site: http://www.kardasi.com/spikelust

by kira-nerys

Hope was like a living, breathing being in his chest. It suffused him with warmth and apprehension.

Spike spotted her sitting at the bar and if he'd had a heart it would indeed have beaten itself out of his chest. He'd never been so nervous before. But this was it.

If she turns her back on me now ...

He walked over to her. She lifted her face toward him and he waited.

Hope died. It burned in his chest like ashes, his mouth tasted like ashes, because she turned her face away. He didn't have to say anything, and neither did she. The rejection was written all over her face.

He waited a fraction of a second to see if she would turn toward him again, if he might have misunderstood.

But no. He hadn't misunderstood, and a bloke finally had to take a hint. After all that had happened, he'd started hoping. Now, he knew he'd been a bloody idiot.

Fine then. I'm leaving, Spike thought and turned his back on her.

He strode purposefully toward the door.

I've had enough. That bitch. God, I wish she were dead. I should kill her, I should kill myself to put myself out of my misery. I'm such a pathetic moron.

Spike bowed his head and plowed his way through the crowd, not listening to the annoyed voices of the people he pushed away.

I'm leaving Sunnydale now, he thought. For good this time.

That's when he felt a small, but surprisingly strong hand on his arm.

"Spike."

It was her, but he wouldn't give in. Not again. Not ever again would he let her hurt him. She'd done that too many times already.

"Don't touch me," he growled, continuing toward the exit, but the grip around his arm grew stronger, painful.

"Please, wait."

He swirled around and stared at her, and his heart melted into nothing. Her beautiful face was streaked with tears, and that lush lip trembled. She might as well have staked him for the impact it had on him. He closed his eyes for a second and clenched his jaw, determinedly. She wouldn't get to him. Not this time.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"What for? You're just letting me know that you don't want this? You don't want my support. You don't want me. It's just me who is too bloody thick-headed to get the message," Spike snarled.

"No, that's not it."

"I've always told you I'm not stupid. But I'm wondering. I'm just as stupid a git as the poofter!"

Buffy looked at him in confusion.

"Peaches.... You know." Spike started explaining. "Tall, dark, fancies himself handsome, son of a bitch - yae high," he continued and held out his arm a couple of inches above his own head. "Maybe...more like this," he amended and lifted his hand a little higher.

Buffy still looked like she had no clue what he was going on about.

"Angel. I'm as stupid as Angel and I'm beginning to think that you're not listenin'."

"I just don't understand what Angel has got to do with anything?"

"Fine, whatever," Spike said and started turning around again.

"Don't go," Buffy said. "You don't understand."

"I think I understand perfectly, pet," Spike said. "For the first time in a year or more, I think I see things clearly. Finally."

"I don't want you to leave."

"And why is that?" Spike said and looked her in the eye again. They were so big, so beautiful. So ... vulnerable.

No!

"It's getting tiresome this dance we're doing, Slayer. I'm tired of dancing. I'm tired of the one step forward, two step back routine."

"I'm sorry. I ... just didn't know what to say to you."

"Get lost?" Spike said coldly. "That would be a good start. Just make up your mind. I finally did."

"You did?" Buffy said, her voice trembling, and Spike steeled himself. He wasn't going to give in this time. He'd had enough. Enough.

"Yeah," he said, hating the uncertainty in his own voice.

"You're leaving."

"I'm leaving."

"Why?"

"I think I just told you that, Slayer."

"You're leaving, because of me?"

Spike stared up at the ceiling. This woman was just too much. He'd done everything to prove to her how much he loved her. And now she looked as though it surprised her that he didn't want to stay around for her daily "kicking Spike while he's down" routine.

"Don't, Spike. Do you remember when you kidnapped me and tied me up in your crypt?"

"Yeah. It sounds kind of kinky when you put it like that." He couldn't help grinning, despite himself .

Buffy's face lit up in a hesitant smile. It practically set him aflame.

"I lied."

"You lied?" Spike said, confusion rising. "About what?"

"There is a chance. There was always a chance. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. It's still ... It's very difficult for me. You're a vampire," she said as though that explained everything. "And you don't have a soul."

"Whereas it's just peachy for me to go around pining for the Slayer, you mean?" Spike said, but there was no real malice in his voice. There was just curiosity and that sodding hope making itself a home deep in his gut once more.

"I'm sorry Spike. I ... care about you. I don't want you to leave."

Somewhere deep inside, Spike knew he was making a mistake. Somewhere, he knew that she needed, needed so badly right now she was prepared to even turn to him to have something or someone to fill that need. He wasn't sure it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was more than he'd ever had before. And the truth was, he didn't care. He didn't care why she wanted him, as long as she did.

"Spike," she whispered and stepped closer.

"Yeah?"

Suddenly his voice was coarse, his throat constricted with the need. Overpowering desire flared inside when she looked at him like that.

"Kiss me, Spike," she begged. "Please kiss me."

And he did.

It was a good thing, Spike decided, her mouth warm, willing and eager beneath his lips. She met him halfway, pulling him closer to her, not shying away from his arousal.

"I want you, Buffy," he groaned into her mouth.

She tasted like fire, and it was so much better than ashes.

END