Actions

Work Header

It Started with a Whisper

Work Text:

Have you ever noticed that when you stare at something that it almost ceases to be the same thing you started to look at?

 

It started with me needing a night out. Spike decided I needed to try on ‘the dark side’ , he promised cookies and I grudgingly accepted.  I made a big show of how I thought it wasn’t good idea. But inside I wanted to go. I needed this. I mean I’ve been dead for weeks now, it was time for some mindless fun.

 

It started out as a dare…

 

I mean I think that’s how it started. I’m not quite sure – at least I think I’m not sure. That bottle of Jack Daniels that Spike had somehow ended up in my hands and now the harsh amber liquid was sloshing around in my tummy. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, especially with the fuzziness that now was my brain. I was kind of enjoying myself. It was nice not to have to think for a bit. To forget about my responsibilities … my life for even just a moment.

 

An incredibly girly giggle bubbled up my throat and I almost looked away … almost. Embarrassment colored my face but Spike didn’t waver. He kept his stare even and non-blinky. It kind of turned me on. It kind of pissed me off.

 

For some unknown reason – at least one I cannot think of right at this second, Spike dared me to a staring contest. And believe me I was determined to win. No way was Spike going to best me at the game that I am still the reigning champ of.

 

Saying, “blah blah … I bet the sauced slayer can’t best me at a staring contest. I’m a vampire after all, I don’t have to breathe or blink. I can stare all day and it won’t even bother me. I’m strong  blah blah, I’m the big bad blah blah.”

 

He had started to sound like the teacher in the ‘Peanuts’ cartoons after a while.  But while he was talking all my brain could understand was boy pretty. Boy has pretty voice. Boy makes me feel good. I like boy. I like boy a lot more than I let on.

 

And that’s how I found myself ten minutes later, staring into the incredibly blue eyes of my favorite pain in the ass.

 

Have you ever noticed that if you stare at something long enough it almost ceases to be the same thing you started to look at?

 

Let me just tell you, Spike’s eyes are not just blue. They are a shade of blue that hasn’t even been discovered yet. Baby blue, cerulean, navy blue, sky blue, ocean blue … these colors would have to mix together to become the shade that he has. It would be some ostentatious name that would perfectly describe him.

 

Not only are his eyes an impossible shade but he has these flecks of other colors swimming around in his iris’s. Golds and silvers, blacks and greens. They are breathtaking and before I know what’s happening I’m falling into them. Not in a ‘thrall’ per se. It’s his own magnetism that has me. The pulls me in and captivates me.

 

All the things that make him Spike draw me to him. His obscenely bleached hair, his leather duster (he has no idea how much I love all that leather!) , his deliciously British accent, his ‘all black’ attire and last but not least his demon. It's his demon that really draws me to him, not just because I'm the slayer but because it's part of him.

 

I want this man and as I continue this sham of a contest I fall deeper and deeper into him.  I look past the colors and see the emotions right under the surface.

 

I see humor and I know he is laughing at me. I see compassion and I know if he could take away all my problems he would in a heartbeat. I see so many emotions, feelings I didn’t know he had let alone for me. At last I see the love he has for me, shining brightly and it humbles me. It makes me want to shine like that, makes me want to be all that I can to make him happy. It makes my heart beat and my palms start to sweat. It makes adrenaline course through my veins. It makes me ‘want’.

 

His face is looming closer to me and I find breathing increasingly difficult. I don’t even realize my need for air until I’m suddenly gasping and a barrage of questions from my inner Buffy start slamming into me.

 

Breathe Buffy breathe…

 

Does he know he is moving closer?

 

Is it me who is moving?

 

Is he that drunk?

 

Does this mean I won?

 

Is he winning?

 

Oh god does my breath smell bad?

 

Is he going to kiss me?

 

Oh god please kiss me…

 

His blue eyes are impossibly close and I feel his breath on my face. My eyes fall to his mouth and he licks them, his tongue flicking out softly. It doesn’t even occur to me that I have left his eyes until his mouth descends on mine.

 

And then I find I don’t care.