"Come on, luv. Give us a kiss!"
"Ew, Spike, no!"
"Wot! Why not? Come on, Slayer. You kiss me all the time."
"Yes. But none of those times have been after you'd just downed half of... whatever concoction you've been brewing on my kitchen stove."
Spike sniffed, insulted.
"I'll have you know, that recipe's been in my clan for centuries, pet. It's called-"
"I don't even wanna know what it's called, much less what's in it."
"Well, blood, for starters-"
"As if that wasn't obvious," Buffy rolled her eyes.
"-and chocolate-"
Her nose crinkled. "Chocolate? With blood?"
"Oh come on," Spike protested, "It's not like you've never seen me drink blood with chocolate before."
"I've seen that," she agreed. "What I haven't seen was you simmering up an entrš”that required blood as the main ingredient on my stove. When I walked in, you were like Emeril, minus the apron and the 'bam!'"
Spike sighed, "Look. All right. I'm sorry, pet. I was craving it. I haven't had this in a long time!" he whined.
Buffy's expression softed, and she sighed. "Look, I don't care if you cook your bloody meals in my pots. Just," she crinkled her nose, "Make sure you scour them in boiling hot water when you're done. With lots of anti-bacterial soaps," She paused, she continued teasingly, "And make sure you brush your teeth before you try kissing me again, fang breath."
"Ha bloody ha, Slayer."
"Was that a pun?"
Spike glowered.
Buffy grinned cheekily.
"Hey guys," Dawn entered the kitchen, then made an ick face. "Ew, Spike, what is that smell?"
Dawn peered into the pot, and Buffy had to hold in a laugh at the vampire's expense. Poor guy.
"That, Little Bit, is-"
"Ugh! No, don't tell me, please. I'm still having nightmares over the last time you cooked this stuff."
Buffy perked up, suddenly interested. Spike, she noticed, had ducked his head.
"Last time, you say? There was a last time?"
"Totally," Dawn agreed. "It was gross. He put chocolate in it. And cinnamon."
"When was this?" Buffy asked.
Dawn shrugged, popping the fridge open to find an appetizing snack. "Last week. You were at work, I think."
"I see," The Slayer turned her no-nonsense glare towards her vampire, who appeared to be trying very hard to look innocent.
And failing.
"Haven't had it in a long time, huh?" Buffy asked.
"A week is a long time, Slayer!" The vamp protested in his defense.
"Uh huh."
"Well!" he whined, lowering his head like a little boy, sounding petulant. "It is!"
Buffy turned away, putting a sad look on her face. Inwardly, though, she was holding in a grin.
She knew how to get him.
"You lied to me, Spike," Buffy said softly.
Dawn sat quietly at the counter with her yogurt, watching and holding back a smirk. She'd lived with Buffy long enough to recognize the "guilt trip" signs.
And Spike, naturally a sucker for his girl, fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
"I'm sorry, luv," he mumbled, reaching out and pulling the Slayer into his embrace. "I just didn't want you mad at me, is all."
Buffy sighed, but didn't reply.
"I'll make it up to you, pet."
Buffy, whose face was hidden in Spike's chest, allowed a triumphant smirk.
"How?" she asked, keeping her voice mopey.
"I'll... take you out?" he offered.
There was an expectant silence, and Spike sighed.
"I'll take you out, to the most expensive bloody restaurant in town."
Buffy grinned, and pulled back.
"Okay!"
Spike frowned.
"Why do I get the feeling that I was just duped?"
"Probably 'cause you were, Spike," Dawn cheerfully informed him.
Buffy laughed, and pulled her vampire's pouting face down to hers, kissing him soundly.
Dawn make a yuck face.
Purring as they parted, Spike couldn't help but ask, "I thought you didn't wanna kiss me on account that I had blood breath, luv?"
The Slayer shrugged.
"What can I say," she smiled. "I love you, bad breath and all."
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End.
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Just some random little one-off I thought of late one night.
Review?