Summary: Runner-up at the Cradle of Humanity Awards Round 2 for the Be My Mate Award. Runner-up at the Rogue Poet Awards Round 6 for Best Lighthearted. Runner Up at Spark and Burn Round 5 for Best WIP.
An apocalypse threat in Maryland requires a vampire's help to disenchant a stone used in the ritual to destroy all of mankind. Since Angelus is still without his soul, Buffy is forced to ask the one vampire she hates for a hand. The problem is, he's in a wheelchair. What happens when a crippled vamp and a slayer make a cross-country trip to save the world? Will they kill each other before they get there, or will her horrible driving do the job for them? But what if they found solace in one another's company instead? Could it be? Yes, it most certainly could.
Categories: General Fics Characters:
Violence, Adult Language, Sexual Situations
1. Chapter 1 by dampersandspoons
2. Chapter 2 by dampersandspoons
3. Chapter 3 by dampersandspoons
4. Chapter 4 by dampersandspoons
5. Chapter 5 by dampersandspoons
6. Chapter 6 by dampersandspoons
7. Chapter 7 by dampersandspoons
8. Chapter 8 by dampersandspoons
9. Chapter 9 by dampersandspoons
10. Chapter 10 by dampersandspoons
11. Chapter 11 by dampersandspoons
12. Chapter 12 by dampersandspoons
13. Chapter 13 by dampersandspoons
14. Chapter 14 by dampersandspoons
15. Chapter 15 by dampersandspoons
16. Chapter 16 by dampersandspoons
17. Chapter 17 by dampersandspoons
18. Chapter 18 by dampersandspoons
19. Chapter 19 by dampersandspoons
20. Chapter 20 by dampersandspoons
21. Chapter 21 by dampersandspoons
Chapter 1 by dampersandspoons
Hey look, guys! It's not an all-human fic! HAVE I LOST MY MIND? No. I have found it. For the record and for the sake of this story, Buffy is aware of Spike in a wheelchair, Jenny Calendar is alive, and Spike is hot. Oh wait, ignore that last part. Anyway, I hope you like the first chapter and while there's not much to go on yet, I hope my readers have faith that YES there will be smut and YES there will be some funny and NO THERE WILL BE NO SPIKE/OTHER BUFFY/OTHER. Just a bunch of evil banter, mean jibes and finally the sexy time.
I am well-aware that there are a-jillion road-trip fics out there, but God bless, I love them so much. So here's mine, dammit. Wheelchair Spike and bad-driving Buffy...what's not to love about that? WHAT, I ASK YOU? Anyway. Your reviews and input, as always, are much appreciated. Thank you, carry on.
“I’m not doing this until we find a way to get Angel’s soul back, I’m not!” Buffy said sternly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
Giles sighed and pointed to the text in his book with his glasses. “This is not up for debate! The ritual takes place in three weeks and we have no guarantee that we can return Angel’s soul in time. Angel is not an option!”
“Then who is, Giles? You tell me what other vampire is out there that we can trust! I’m not driving across the United States with a soulless vampire, apocalypse or no. Angel is all we have.”
“No. What we have is Angelus. Buffy, I know that you’re upset but we must look at the bigger picture.”
“Here’s me, looking at the bigger picture. I say, let’s all research our butts off until we figure out a way to return Angel’s soul. That should be our top priority anyway! And then, he can come with me to Maryland, we’ll kick this James Caan-“
“Whatever! This…Vinkaan’s ass, destroy the stone and be back before school starts up again.”
“Buffy,” Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose. He braced himself for this next bit of news, knowing that the Slayer would be none too pleased with their only alternative. “We must consider the fact that we might not be successful in restoring Angel’s soul. Be that as it may, there is another master vampire who might prove useful.”
Buffy’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, no, Mister! No, no, no! You are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”
“Well, he is in a wheelchair…how much harm could he possibly cause?”
“Last time I checked, his arms and fangs are still in working order! I am not taking Spike on a road trip to save the world.”
Giles snorted at the visual, though the Slayer was not finding anything about this humorous. “It would be rather interesting to see you wheeling him into the cave,” he chuckled again. “I wonder if it’s an electronic wheelchair with a tiny joy-stick!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just,” the raucous laughter echoed through the library, “You’re right, that was tasteless.”
Buffy waited for Giles to settle down before she continued. “Can we get back to the part of the story where you’re completely crazy for thinking that Spike would even agree to it, let alone be our best option?”
“The ritual calls for a Slayer and a master vampire to disenchant the stone. Would you rather we ask Drusilla?”
Buffy shuddered. “A world of no.” She sighed, her resolve dropping in the face of reality. “How do you know that Spike will even agree to this?”
“The art of persuasion, Buffy.” Giles grinned madly and walked to the back of the library. When he returned, he clumsily dropped a bundle of rope, two cross bows, duct tape and an axe.
“Wow. Yeah, that’ll do it. But even if we kidnap him, who’s to say he’ll recite the spell?”
“Simple. We pay him.”
Buffy stomped through the graveyard on her way to the mansion, clenching a stake in one fist and a cross-bow in the other. Giles was in tow with the rope draped over his shoulders and the additional cross-bow in his hands.
“I hate this. I hate this whole plan.”
“I’m not fond of it either Buffy, but we have no choice.”
“Well, let’s pray that Spike goes along with this because if he doesn’t, he is so dust.”
The Watcher and the Slayer stealthily snuck up to the mansion to stake out their surroundings. It was just after nightfall and they hoped that Angelus and Drusilla would be leaving soon to hunt, giving them ample opportunity to discuss matters with Spike. Buffy motioned for Giles to join her by a window. They peered inside and both gasped at the sight before them. Giles blushed and Buffy fought off the urge to puke. Angelus and Drusilla were preoccupied in the carnal nature while Spike sat in a corner behind them. He looked miserable.
“Dear Lord,” Giles gasped. “Well, that’s an image that will stay in my mind forever.”
Buffy closed her eyes, trying to remind herself that the vampire currently bending Drusilla over the bed was not her boyfriend, but an evil demon. It wasn’t an easy thing to stomach and so instead she focused on the blond vamp who sat sulking in a corner. She couldn’t help but feel for him then. She’d only caught a glimpse and there he was, getting the IMAX with surround-sound feature. How often was he forced to put up with his sire and his grandsire’s intimate coupling? She knew for a fact how much he loved Drusilla and by the look on his face, he was devastated. It just didn’t seem right to see him so depressed and weak. While she hated his unliving guts, she admired his cocky attitude and though she never admitted it out loud, he was the best fighter she’d ever gone up against. In fact, she got a secret thrill from a good brawl with the peroxide vampire. He must have really been in bad shape to not even be protesting what they were doing…and she almost felt guilty for being the sole reason he was in that state to begin with. Almost.
“Poor Spike,” she said with a frown.
“You aren’t sympathizing with him, are you?”
“No!” she said all too quickly. “I just…I mean, look at him.”
Giles furrowed his brow as he studied him. “He does look rather pathetic. Perhaps his sour mood will work in our favor.”
“How can you say that? That’s horrible.”
Giles’ mouth opened to say something in regards to the Slayer’s compassion towards Spike, but he shook that thought away and said, “It appears they are…finished.” He was referring to the two master vampires who were now dressing themselves and heading out of the mansion. “Let’s wait for them to be well out of sight and then we’ll enter.”
Buffy and Giles hid behind the bushes and watched as Drusilla and Angelus walked away, laughing together like old lovers. Buffy’s jaw clenched and she took a deep breath. Giles gave her a comforting smile and she softened slightly. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing him like that, knowing what he used to mean to her. And if they never restored his soul, perhaps her hatred of Angelus was a good thing because one day, she’d have to stake him.
They quickly walked inside the mansion and made their way to the room where Spike was. Buffy put her ear against the door and listened for a moment to make sure it was safe to enter. The noises coming from inside made her breath hitch and she gave her watcher a worried look.
“What?” he mouthed silently.
“I think…he’s crying,” she whispered. She blinked and put her ear to the door again. Surely she was mistaken. Vampires didn’t cry. However, that turned out to be one big fat myth because no one could mistake the sound of a broken man sobbing his eyes out. “I think we should come back later,” Buffy said nervously and stepped away from the door, feeling a mixture of emotions that she wasn’t ready to name yet. Sympathy for your enemy was never a good thing. But she couldn’t ignore the pang in her chest from that awful sound, knowing that if Giles were gone, she’d be doing the same. She saved her tears for bed time and therefore, hadn’t slept well since that night, the night Angel took her virginity away and broke her heart. Angelus caused too many people too much pain and in that way, she found herself relating to Spike. Spike, of all things…
“We don’t have time, Buffy. Now or never,” he whispered.
She sighed and nodded, knowing that they had no other choice and she opened the door, both of them raising their crossbows and aiming as they walked inside. Spike’s head jerked upwards and he wiped at his eyes while trying to wheel himself away. “Of course it’s the bloody Slayer and her Watcher! Well, isn’t this just typical! Dusting a helpless vamp when mum and gramps are away!” He wheeled himself into a corner frantically, looking around the room for something to protect himself with.
“Spike,” Buffy said calmly, “We’re not here to kill you.”
He rolled his reddened eyes and snorted. “Mind explaining the medieval armory then?”
“It’s precautionary in case you try something funny,” Giles said, pointing the arrow at the vampire and took a step forward.
“Try something funny, he says. Oh, what…like pop a wheelie? Do a donut about the room? Perhaps I could try my best Stephen Hawking impersonation? In case you haven’t noticed, Ripper, I’m in a bloody wheelchair, no thanks to her!” He said pointedly, glaring at the Slayer.
Giles scowled and took another step forward but Buffy put her hand on his chest. She turned towards the vampire and said, “Look, about that whole…organ falling on you thing. Um…sorry?” She shrugged her shoulders sheepishly.
Spike laughed humorlessly. “The hell you are.”
“Well, I mean…Slayer here,” she said pointing to herself. “Kinda my job description to take out the fanged ones.”
“As thrilling as it is to gab with you wankers about old times, mind getting to the point? And by point, I don’ mean one of those wooden things you have tucked in your belt.” Spike’s hands rested casually on the wheels of his chair, plotting his escape. If they so much as made a move, he had a 50/50 chance of high-tailing it out of the room. Probably wouldn’t make it, but he’d dust trying.
“Right, the point,” she said with a sigh and walked over to the bed, sitting down on a spot that wasn’t previously contaminated with her ex-boyfriend and the crazy vampire. “We need your help.”
Spike laughed loudly. “You’re off your rocker if you think I’d ever help you. I’ll save you from a big waste of time and tell you right now, the answer is no.”
“I have a cross bow pointed directly at your heart that tells me differently,” Giles said sternly. “Will you not even listen to our terms?”
“Nope. Sorry. Spike’s out of business for the moment,” he said patronizingly and lit a cigarette, casual as you please. If they needed his help, he was confident they weren’t going to dust him and so his demeanor became a bit more relaxed.
“Or…we could just tie you to your chair and take you anyway,” Buffy said nonchalantly.
“Why Slayer,” he sneered, “Always took you for the bondage type.”
“Ok, ew? And shut up. As much as I hate saying it, you’re the only one who can help us.”
Spike smiled and exhaled a thick ribbon of smoke. “Is that right? Need the ol’ big bad to help stop some nasty that’s plannin’ on…let me guess…an apocalypse?”
“Precisely,” she answered. “Giles, make with the history lesson.”
“Right. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the Githyan demons or not, but their leader, Vinkaan, has obtained the stone of Tir’Suk. They plan on using the stone to open up the Astral Plane to unleash their demons unto our world, thereby destroying all of mankind.”
“Oh yeah, the Githyans. Ugly bastards, they are.”
“So you’re familiar with them?”
“Never fought one before but I know they’re telepathic and use telekinesis to fight their enemies. You’re in for a real treat with those wankers.”
“You mean…WE are in for a treat,” Buffy said pointedly. “Because you’re coming with me.”
“I bloody well am not! Again, I bring to your attention the fact that I’m in a bleeding wheelchair an’ completely useless in a fight.”
“I don’t need you to fight them. I need you to help me disenchant the stone.”
“Why not bring one of your little Scoobies with you? Why me?”
“Because,” Giles sighed, already exhausted from this conversation, “the ritual to disenchant the stone of Tir’Suk requires both a Slayer and a master Vampire.”
“Oh, I get it,” Spike said angrily. “Because Captain Forehead’s turned evil, I’m second choice. Well you can just piss off, you tosser!”
“Do not talk to me that way!” Giles spat and started to lunge for the blond vamp, apocalypse be damned.
“Giles!” Buffy shouted. This was not going well at all and Angelus and Drusilla might be returning at any minute. They were getting nowhere fast and she had a feeling that Spike was counting on the delay to save his own ass. So she opted for a different tactic. “Can you give us a second?”
“I’m not leaving you alone with…with that thing!”
Buffy rolled her eyes and Spike snorted. “I think I can handle it. You were all gunning for me to go on a road trip with him by myself, what’s the difference now?”
Giles sighed. “Very well. But I’ll be just outside this door should you need me.”
Buffy saluted him and waited for Giles to leave before turning back to the vampire. She frowned as she noticed him leering at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said grinning. “So, tell me how you’re going to level with me one on one.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Look. I’m not happy about this situation either, but would you really be better off here in this mansion? I mean…I heard you crying.”
“I was not crying!” He shouted.
“Yes you were.”
“I was not!”
“Look, I don’t blame you. I mean, I’d go crazy if I had to see…well, that all the time.”
“You don’ know what the bloody hell you’re talking about,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not another word about that, you hear me?”
“Fine. But you just ask yourself this. Would you rather sit here by yourself every night until you eventually heal, having to watch your sires doing that thing that I’m not supposed to talk about, or…come on an awesome all expenses paid road trip to Maryland?” Oh, she was really pushing her luck with the chipper voice, but he’d brought her to this level. If he refused at this point, she was going to use her fists next. She was planning on using brute force to begin with but the stupid vampire had to screw up her plans by showing human emotion and crying. Damn him.
Spike scratched his chin and narrowed his eyes. He hated the bitch with all his undead heart, but he was absolutely miserable having to hear Angelus stick it to his woman every night and mock him. Plus, he hadn’t even been fed in a few days and he knew the white hats were too good to let him go without blood. But negotiations were in order and if he played his cards right, perhaps he could have Slayer on the menu by the end of it and win his dark princess back in the process. Oh yes, this could be very good indeed.
“What’s in it for me?”
Buffy smiled, knowing that she had him. “Money.”
“How much?” he asked. His ears perked up to his favorite word next to ‘sex’ and ‘violence’.
“Two thousand. And that doesn’t include hotel stay, blood or…whatever else vampires need to survive.”
“Two grand, eh? An’ I guess you’ll want me to bag it for the duration?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not going to let you kill while you’re with me.”
"Not like I could anyway. How long?”
“Two weeks, maybe two and a half tops. Depending on how much Githyan ass I have to kick.”
Spike pouted. He wanted to kick some Githyan ass, too. Maybe if he healed in time… “All right. But I want a guarantee that I won’ be killed an’ that no one finds out about this. Got a reputation, you know.”
“I can live with that. Truce?”
They shook hands and Buffy wheeled Spike out of the mansion, hoping to God that this wasn’t going to be a mistake. Spike was grinning like mad. Two weeks alone with the Slayer. Oh, she was in for a treat. After all, he hadn’t had a bath in a while and wondered if she’d worked that out in her cute little head yet. Things were about to get very interesting.
Chapter 2 by dampersandspoons
Twenty minutes of arguing, a few nasty comments about the Slayer’s derriere, wrist restraints and a ball-gag later, and the Slayer was finally able to load the rental car with weapons, luggage, and a few of Spike’s things after convincing Giles to run back to the mansion to pack him a bag. The wrinkles around Spike’s eyes were the only clue that he was smirking since his stupid mouth was stuffed with a t-shirt. He easily could have spit it out and it wasn’t until he was hoisted into the SUV and strapped in the front seat that he figured it out and pushed the gag out of his mouth with his tongue. Spike wiggled in the front seat to try and get more comfortable, which was incredibly difficult to do with his hands tied behind his back. He looked out the window and tried to listen to the watcher and the slayer talking outside the vehicle. He twisted around in his seat and awkwardly reached for the window handle and rolled it down a hair to hear a little better.
“You mind speedin’ it up out there?”
“Shut up, Spike!” they both yelled. Spike scowled and muttered something under his breath, turning away from the window.
They hadn’t even started driving yet and Buffy was already preparing herself for a nervous breakdown. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Buffy pouted.
“I wish that I could, but with Angelus and a now powerful Drusilla on the loose, I’m afraid of leaving Sunnydale while you’re gone. Plus, I can continue researching a way to restore his soul. Should we find a solution…”
“You’ll contact me immediately and I can get rid of the annoying vamp?”
“Precisely. Though I wouldn’t count on it. We’ve found no answers as of yet.” Giles sighed and reached in his back pocket. “Here is enough money for food and hotel stay, gas and other expenses. Do not let Spike get his dirty little hands on this.”
“Like I would!” She said incredulously.
“I heard that!” Spike shouted.
Buffy shook her head and sighed. “Anyway…what are you going to tell mom?”
“Y-you haven’t,” Giles sputtered, “You mean, she doesn’t know?”
“Oh, like she’d be totally cool with her seventeen year old daughter driving across country for 2 weeks.”
Giles pursed his lips and shot Buffy a look of disapproval. “This is very irresponsible, Buffy. Joyce is going to be worried sick.”
“I know, and that’s why you are going to be the one to break the news.” She bounced happily and gave him an award winning smile before spinning on her heel and walking to the driver’s side of the car.
“Now…wait just a minute, Buffy!” Giles’ protestations fell on deaf ears as Buffy slammed her car door shut and waved at him through the window. His shoulders sagged and his lips formed a tight line. Telling Joyce was not going to be easy. He wondered if Buffy knew that by telling her, he’d inevitably have to tell her about her calling. It wasn’t going to be a joy ride, but then again, neither was Buffy’s excursion. Perhaps he owed her one.
Buffy’s hands rose in the air and twitched in anticipation as she eyed the various knobs and devices in the rental car. “Ok, start ignition,” she said out loud and put the keys in the ignition and cranked it. Spike’s eyes went wide suddenly.
“Uh…Slayer? You have driven an SUV before, right?”
“Of course I have,” she lied. “Now then…where’s that stick shifty thing…oh, here it is!” She clapped her hands triumphantly and located the gear shift next to the steering wheel. “P, R, N, D! It’s D, right?”
“You’ve driven a bloody CAR before, RIGHT?” Spike was taking unneeded breaths as the situation sunk in. He was going to die by the hands of a Slayer, and not in the fun way.
“Yes! I drove the car at the DMV when I took Driver’s Ed! God, quit freaking out or you’ll make me nervous!”
“Did you pass the test?” When she didn’t answer and merely looked out the window, Spike exhaled and closed his eyes. “Ok, first thing’s first. Your parking brake is on.”
“No, stupid…my foot isn’t even on the brake,” she said with a satisfied smirk, not realizing that her foot probably should be on the brake before she shifted into drive. That didn’t matter. She was busy mocking a bossy vampire.
“The bloody lever next to your seat, you stupid bint!”
“Oh,” she furrowed her brow. She pushed the button in with her thumb and lowered the parking brake. “I knew that.”
“Now, take that vicious little foot of yours and press the brake before you shift into Drive.”
“Yes,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s D.” He silently thanked the Gods that the SUV was at least an automatic. He’d hate to have to explain how to work a clutch. And didn’t that put all kinds of images in his brain that he didn’t need to think about at the moment?
Buffy’s tongue darted out and nestled in the corner of her mouth as she yanked the lever into drive and then slammed her foot down on the gas. They bolted forward and they both shrieked.
“Brakes, Slayer! Brakes!”
“Ok, ok!” She slammed her foot on the brake and they jerked forward as it came to an abrupt stop. They panted for a moment when they realized she’d come mere inches from crashing into a rather large tree.
“Put. The Car. In park,” he said calmly, though his irritation showed by the ticking muscles in his jaw. Once the car was safely in park he turned his head slowly in her direction and then shouted, “Are you trying to get us killed you stupid bitch? Do you even know how to fucking drive? We’ll die before we even make it off this bloody street!”
“Stop yelling at me!” Buffy’s chin quivered and then she remembered that she was the freaking Slayer. “If you raise your voice at me again, so help me, Spike, I will stake you and dance in your ashes!”
Spike closed his eyes and then spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Fine. Slayer? Dear? Would you be so kind as to gently press on the gas once you’ve gone into drive and ease us out onto the road? I’d be ever so grateful not to die in a car crash.” He batted his eyelashes and Buffy growled in annoyance.
“Just shut up and tell me where the lights are.”
“The lights? Oh for cryin’ out…there, Slayer.” He pointed to the lever with his head. “Click it forward once an’ your lights will come on.”
After knocking over someone’s garbage can, almost taking out a mailbox and leaving tire tracks on the pavement, they were finally on their way to the freeway and Spike wondered if they packed any booze or horse tranquilizers. He needed something and he needed it fast or else he was going to use all his strength to break his restraints and sink his fangs into the neck of the worst driver he’d ever seen. Ever. He looked over at her and smiled inwardly. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white; her body leaned forward awkwardly as she focused on the road and he watched her feet going back and forth from the gas to the brakes. If he didn’t hate her so much, he might have thought she was adorable. But, he was suffering from a near death experience…and he did hate her, so he snorted and leaned against the glass window. His head bumped against the glass repeatedly every time she pressed on the brakes and he screwed his eyes shut, willing the daylight to near so they’d be forced to stop. But that was hours away. Hours and hours and hours away.
Buffy lifted the lid to the console between their seats and started digging through the CD’s she brought.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for music! This car has a CD player in it! Isn’t that cool?”
“Oh yeah, it’s a marvel of technology, that. My question is why both of your pretty little hands aren’t on the steering wheel?”
“I totally have the hang of this now. See? I can drive with one hand!” Suddenly, they veered off the road and she shrieked, grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and righted them again. “Or not?” she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly.
“Bloody hell, Slayer! Just concentrate on the road!”
“Fine!” She huffed and a line formed between her eyebrows. Spike shook his head and watched as her lower lip jutted out in an adorable pout.
“What’s wrong,” he groaned.
“I’m bored. You haven’t said anything in hours and it’s too quiet.”
“Thought you wanted me to shut up!”
“I just wanted you to shut up at that moment. I didn’t mean forever!”
“You were very clear, Slayer. You said, ‘If you say one more thing about my legs, I’ll personally see to it that YOUR legs never work again so shut up!’”
“See, now that’s where you totally misinterpreted what I meant. I just didn’t want you ogling my legs and making gross statements. I didn’t say to sulk in silence for five hours and bore me to tears!”
Spike sighed in frustration. “You have got to be the most difficult person I’ve ever met.”
“I could say the same thing about you!” So, she was being difficult, but at least arguing was kind of like conversation and she was absolutely bored out of her mind. Spike was happy for the distraction as he so loved getting under her skin.
“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you’ve got Hawaiian Tropic thighs. Shouldn’t wear such short skirts if you don’ want blokes lookin’ at you.”
“See? Do you see? This is the thing I’m talking about. Those are the comments I don’t want to hear.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of yourself, Slayer? Did Angelus ruffle your feathers and give you a complex?”
“Don’t talk about Angelus! That is none of your business.” Her hands gripped the wheel tighter as blind fury crept up her spine with rigid indignation.
Spike smirked. “That’s right, Slayer. Deny, deny, deny. You know, he told me what a frigid bitch you were but I was nice enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. Guess I was wrong.”
“Do you really want me to shut up or is this another one of your weird requests where in a few minutes you’ll want me talking again?”
“Yes, Spike. I really, really want you to shut up. I was stupid to think that we might have a normal conversation. So keep quiet.”
Spike grinned and watched the road, not saying a word. He counted to ten, waiting for the inevitable.
“And you know what else?” Ah, there it was, right on time. “You’re totally annoying. I can find ways to entertain myself, thank you very much. Don’t need you to keep me company,” she trailed off, muttering under her breath. “You’re lucky I don’t pull over and stake you.”
Spike waited patiently.
“I said you’re lucky I don’t pull over and stake you!”
He remained silent.
“Ooh! God, I hate you,” she huffed when she was getting no reaction from him.
“Stop that laughing!”
Buffy was bound and determined to play Spike at his little game. If he was going to be stubborn and not talk to her, then she was going to be silent, too. And really, how hard would it be for him to just say something pleasant? Not the point. The point was that he pissed her off with his stupid little smiles like he held a secret and his quiet humming which was barely audible. She hoped he’d hum louder just so that she could figure out the song he had stuck in his head and maybe it would get stuck in hers too and she could just concentrate on that, but of course, it was too low to hear over the car engine and tires rotating on the pavement. But luckily for both of them, they arrived at their hotel just before sunrise.
“I’m going to get a room. You stay put.”
He looked at her incredulously and craned his neck back, pointing to his restraints.
“Right, well…don’t…spit on anything.”
He chuckled as she got out of the car. She was a strange bird but he couldn’t help admitting that he’d had a good time in the car with her. It was a hell of a lot better than being ignored by his sire and stuck by himself for hours on end. At least the Slayer had a tongue on her and a fire in her ass. It was highly amusing. Still hated her, though. Definitely no friendly thoughts in his mind, not at all. Oh, no. He was still plotting a way to sink his fangs in her neck the moment he was healed and paid his promised two grand. Wouldn’t do to off her now. He wanted to kick her ass first, maybe cop a feel or two and drink from the chalice of her neck. He was just biding his time with childish entertainment and lascivious comments that turned her cheeks red. That was one thing about humans that he loved; their ability to physically show embarrassment. It was especially gorgeous on the Slayer. And yes, he completely skimmed over that flattering adjective because again, he hated her. He tilted his head curiously when he spotted her stomping back towards the car with a scowl on her face. She opened the back door and pulled out his wheel chair, slammed it on the ground and pushed it to the passenger door, opening it and huffing.
“What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
“The only room available has one bed.”
His tongue rolled behind his teeth in utter joy at her discomfort. “Well, then…looks like we’re gettin’ cozy.”
“Oh no,” she said with a shake of her head as she unsnapped his seat belt. “You’re ridin’ the carpet, my friend.” She started loosening his restraints.
Spike’s eyes raked over her body in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “Why, Slayer…thought you’d never ask.”
She furrowed her brow and then her eyes lit with understanding. “Eww, Spike! God, you’re such a pig.”
“Don’ knock it, luv. Bet you taste delicious.” Spike didn’t know why he kept dropping the innuendos, but he figured it was just because her reactions were so adorable. Not adorable…easy. She was not adorable, she was the Slayer. But it didn’t stop him from continuing. “I bet a bloke could get addicted to your sweet puss-” he was cut off by a fist in his nose. “Ow! Bloody hell!”
“It was supposed to.” She ignored his tongue slipping out to lick away the blood that drizzled out of his nose and put one arm beneath his knees and the other at his back. His cocky attitude seemed to disappear when he wrapped his arms around her neck for support as she lifted him out of the car.
Spike hated this. Hated being in a wheelchair. Hated to have to depend on someone to help him into it. He was a master vampire, not this weak and sorry excuse of a vampire, or so his grandsire told him daily. He could make do getting from his chair to a bed on his own, but that was about it. And knowing that the Slayer, his enemy, had to lift him up like a rag-doll did nothing for his self-esteem. When she made a move to push the chair, he quickly grabbed the wheels and did it himself, angrily moving away from her to conceal his broken pride. He didn’t need her pushing him around.
Buffy frowned as she watched Spike wheeling away. Maybe she’d been too hard on him, but at the same time, she didn’t think Spike was the kind of vampire who would appreciate her pity. He had crossed a line however, and she reacted the only way she knew how. With an upper cut to his face. Still, something about his situation didn’t make her feel very comfortable. It was easy to ignore it when he was in the car, but when he was in the chair, everything changed. If the shoe were on the other foot, she’d have been miserable. At least Spike still had balls and banter, latching on to something that made him feel masculine and evil. As annoying as it was, at least he had that and she couldn’t fault him for trying. But she still had her own pride to contend with and wouldn't put up with it just because he was handicapped at the moment.
She shook off those thoughts as she unloaded the car and craved a long shower. A good long massage under the spray of hot water was just what she needed. And then it hit her. Spike was going to need her assistance at some point. Spike was going to have to get naked and Buffy was going to be the one to help him get naked and lift his nakedness into a bathtub. She could do this. She was the Slayer. How hard could it be? Ok, that was not where her thoughts needed to go. And he probably couldn’t get hard anyway, right? He was paralyzed below the waist. Still…naked Spike was so not something she’d prepared for. Maybe he didn’t need to bathe right away.
“Slayer, are you coming?” He shouted from outside their hotel room door.
She lifted their bags and walked towards him. “Yeah, just getting our stuff.”
“Good cos’ I could really use a bath.”
Chapter 3 by dampersandspoons
“Right, bath…um…” Buffy flushed and distracted herself by stowing their bags away in a corner of the hotel room while Spike casually wheeled himself about, smirking knowingly at her discomfort. “Well, the bathroom is over there, so…help yourself!” Her voice was a little too peppy for her liking and she hoped he hadn’t noticed the way her heart rate increased but knew that was wishful thinking. And he had the audacity to look sheepish!
“’d love to, pet…but…seems I still have the unfortunate inability of usin’ my legs at the mo’.”
“Right. Your legs,” she tucked her blond hair behind her ears and chewed on the inside of her cheek, patting her thighs nervously with the palms of her hands. “Oh, I know! I can just sit your chair in the bathtub and turn on the shower! You’ve got clean clothes and we can set the wet ones out to dry!” Brilliant plan, Buffy!
“I can’t sit in the bloody wheelchair underneath the water, Slayer! Ever heard of rust? Won’ do me any good if I can’ even move the wheels!” So the wheelchair was state-of-the-art, thanks to Drusilla stealing it from the hospital and it was rust-proof, but she didn’t know that.
“Well, we’ll just have to risk it, Spike. I’m not your nursemaid, ok?” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip to the side. Standard ‘don’t fuck with me’ Slayer pose.
“’M not gonna sit under the shower in my clothes! You’re insane!”
“And I’m not going to help you take a bath, what are you, four?”
Had the bint gone completely off her rocker? He was in a wheel chair! It wasn’t like he could really do it himself. Maybe he could, but it would take a Herculean effort and a lot of cursing and he wasn’t in the mood. It started off as a magnificent plan to embarrass the Slayer when she spied his naughty bits but the whole thing just made him feel as pathetic as he looked. He was her enemy, not some bloke she went to the mall and ate pizza with. A vampire that she’d just as soon dust let alone help take a bath because he was crippled. If he were the big bad, able to saunter about the room like he owned the place, it might be a bit easier to execute as well as stroke his damaged ego when she blushed. But then he wouldn’t have the disability as an excuse to get naked in front of her. Not like he really needed such an excuse, but it seemed like such a bloody good idea at the time and he hoped he could play on her good nature to have a little bit of fun. But now he just wanted the whole thing over with and he was starting to feel sorry for himself. This was not how Spike, William the Bloody was supposed to be. And if she didn’t stop looking at him like he was a wounded puppy, he was going to use all his strength to lunge himself in her direction and rip her throat out.
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Don’ need your sodding help anyway, you bitch!” He wheeled towards the bathroom, cursing under his breath when the foot brace knocked against the door frame. He backed up and tried it again and hissed when his elbow rammed into the door. Under different circumstances, Buffy might have laughed at his misfortune but she suddenly felt like a gigantic ass hole. However, she was the Slayer and he was just a stupid vampire and why should she have to take care of him? It’s not like they forced him into coming with them on this little excursion…
He’d already slammed the door. Spike angrily pulled his t-shirt off and leaned forward to remove his boots. They landed with a loud thud in the corner of the tiny bathroom, then came the socks and he situated himself as close to the tub as he could, leaned over, and turned on the water. He heard her calling his name from the other side of the door and he shot her the bird as if she could see it.
“Spike, I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Piss off, Slayer! Wouldn’ want you to put yourself out.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and tried to push them down his hips to no avail. This was the one time in his life he cursed his tight jeans. He couldn’t feel his legs, couldn’t feel his feet, couldn’t figure out a way to brace himself and lift his hips to get them down and he’d only managed a mere inch of movement. If he were lying down, it might be easier but there was no space in the tiny bathroom to do that and he’d probably just fall in a heap on the tile anyway, making this all the more impossible.
Buffy could hear him cursing and struggling and realized he hadn’t taken in a clean set of clothes. “Do you want me to get you something to change into?”
Spike ran his hands down his face. “Yeah, guess I forgot.”
She rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, then she looked everywhere for underwear. “Stupid Giles forgot to pack him any,” she muttered under her breath. That’s all she needed was one more thing for him to be pissed at her about. She grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from her luggage and thought it might do for damage control. Who could be angry when bubbles were on the menu? She knocked on the bathroom door lightly.
“Can I come in?”
Spike sighed loudly. He hadn’t moved at all. “Yeah, sure.”
He turned his head away when he heard her enter. Buffy daintily walked around him and sat on the edge of the tub and squeezed some bubble bath into the hot stream of water.
“Bubble bath,” she said nervously. “I-I thought maybe you’d…you know. Want to soak for a while.”
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes, though he was secretly touched she’d thought of it. Unless she was doing it out of pity. “Look, you don’ have to do that.”
“I know,” she said, staring at the label of the bottle. It wasn’t so much the idea of helping him that bothered her. It was the thought that he’d have to get naked to do it. She’d only ever been with Angel and it was dark so she didn’t really see much. But she knew she’d end up having to do it and bubbles might conceal enough for it to be possible. And then he could bathe himself, she’d come back and help…dry him off! God, this was all so difficult and if she’d only been a little more experienced in this area she wouldn’t have any problems. She turned off the water once the bathtub was filled, both of them stuck in a strange silence.
Spike was wondering how long she was going to sit there because he was not going to let her see him attempt to get in the tub on his own. He was embarrassed enough and looking weak in front of your enemy was a big no-no.
“So…are you plannin’ on movin’ out of the way there, pet? Can’ exactly finish the job with you blockin’ my path.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, furrowing her brow and looked up at him for the first time and her mouth went dry. Shirtless Spike was a sight unlike any she’d ever imagined and even though his expression was marred with annoyance, she couldn’t help but soak up the chiseled and alabaster vision in front of her with a gulp. She shook her head and realized his pants were unzipped but he’d failed to remove them.
Spike muttered something under his breath.
“I said…I can’t get my pants off!”
“Oh.” Buffy was breathing rapidly now. She could do this. She’d killed the Master and tons of demons. Taking off Spike’s pants would so not be a problem, except that it totally and completely was. If he so much as made a snide comment, she was going to drop him on his ass and leave him to his own devices. Her good graces would only run so far. With an energetic intake of breath, Buffy stood and turned to face him. “Give me your hands.”
“Spike, just…God, this is already hard enough for me, ok? So just do as I say or I’m leaving you and you can fend for yourself!” Ok, so that was harsh but she was nervous and luckily, he obliged her. She lifted him out of the chair and wrapped one arm around his back to hold him steady. “Now, push your jeans down and I’ll hold you up.”
And then he smirked. Perhaps his ego wasn’t so broken because Spike instantly took note of the creeping blush on her cheeks and the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. So maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t want to help him because he was her enemy, or that she thought him pathetic, but because she was just a poor lost little girl who’d only ever been with the great git. Knowing him, he made her first time all special-like with candles and soft Kenny G music or something equally poncy and covered up his goodies so she wouldn’t suffer any embarrassment. Well, this was just brilliant. It did wonders for his character, knowing that even as feeble as he was, he still had that effect on a woman. Not that it had been working on Drusilla lately, but still. He took what he could get.
“Slayer, are you taking advantage of me?” he said cheekily as he pushed his jeans down and let them fall to the floor.
Buffy glared at him. It was a nice excuse to keep her from looking down, because she so was not looking! “Do you want me to drop you on your ass?”
He chuckled and rolled his tongue behind his teeth. “It’s a nice ass. Wanna see?”
“God, just…get in the damn tub!”
She sighed and helped him sit on the edge, averting her eyes from the parts that labeled him a man, and pulled his jeans off that were bunched around his feet. Then she aided him in swinging his legs over and sliding down into the bubbly water. Well, that wasn’t so bad. And then she looked at him. His eyes were closed and a soft smile played on his lips as he let out a sigh. Buffy so did not need to be seeing this and really, she could just go ahead and leave now but somehow her feet were planted on the floor. He opened his eyes then. His dark eyebrows and his sapphire orbs were a contrast with his white skin, the bubbles and the white tile of the bathroom. Were his eyes always that blue? Was she staring? No, she most definitely was not staring.
“Mind handin’ me some shampoo and conditioner, luv?” Spike cleared his throat, scolding his voice-box for sounding so husky at that moment. What was it thinking, anyway? Was it trying to seduce the Slayer? Hell no. Spike wanted to make her squeamish and annoyed, not hot and bothered. Although, that had its perks, too. Since she’d yet to move a muscle, he figured the latter was in full effect. One corner of his mouth lifted in a playful smile and he said, “Slayer? You in there?”
“What? Oh yeah. Shampoo because you’re naked. Oh my god!” Her eyes grew wide at her own Freudian slip and she hurriedly made her escape, ignoring the silky chuckles echoing from the bathroom. She searched his bag for the required hair products, muttering to herself, “Ohmigodohmigod, what the hell is wrong with me?” She screwed her eyes shut and cursed, taking a few deep breaths to gain a sense of control and went back into the bathroom. He was happily soaking in the tub and managed to scoot down a bit so his head rested on the edge and his knees slightly bent. He looked so yummy…wait, yummy? No, he looked…angelic. Shit! Stop thinking those things!
Even as these thoughts battled it out in her brain, Buffy found herself sitting on the edge of the tub and squeezing a healthy amount of shampoo in her hands. As if by their own volition, her cursed hands moved forward and began massaging his scalp and her damn eyes traveled down the length of his chest. Spike moaned softly at the feel of her tiny hands on his head. Drusilla had never done this. Usually she just stripped him down and gave him a sponge bath, dunked his head in some water all the while talking to him like he was one of her dollies. And even that was few and far between as he’d become more of a nuisance to her in his current state. She’d completely neglected him for the past three days and a good soak in the tub was just what he needed. Why the Slayer was being so kind, he didn’t know.
“I can do that myself. Hands still work,” he said with a smile, craning his neck back to look at her. Her eyes were glassed over and she seemed to be deep in thought. “Slayer?”
“Right, um,” she wiggled her hands in the water to clean off the soap and then she realized what she’d been doing. “God, do it yourself!” She said, completely embarrassed and unceremoniously tossed the shampoo and conditioner bottles into the bath water with a loud splash.
Spike laughed at her frantic attempt to get out of the bathroom and when she slammed the door behind her he shouted, “I’ll just call for you when I’m done, yeah? I’ll need some help getting all this soapy water off of me with a nice fluffy towel.” He could almost feel the tension in her body, hear the gears turning in her cute little head as she sussed out the best way to handle that without having to touch him too much.
Once he was thoroughly squeaky clean, Spike drained the bathtub and turned the water back on, splashing the remaining bubbles off his skin. Perfect. Nothing in the way now. He cleared his throat and called out sweetly, “All done!” He linked his hands behind his head and stretched, waiting for the Slayer to get an eye full.
Buffy opened the door and gasped, turning her head away sharply. “God, Spike!”
There was that infuriating laugh of his that told her how much he was enjoying this. She grabbed a towel and tossed it in his direction. “Aw, you aren’ afraid of ol’ naked Spike, are you, luv?” He said chuckling as he dried off his body as best as he could in the tub.
“So touchy,” he said in a silky-smooth voice. “I’m covered now. You can turn around.” She had to force back a giggle when she faced him. Spike had the towel draped in his lap and he raised his arms like a toddler wanting to be picked up by his mother and a boyish grin on his face. She awkwardly helped him out of the tub and back on the ledge, throwing him a pair of jeans. He set to work pulling them as far as he could up his legs, smiling at her back. He cleared his throat and she turned around, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not at his crotch, though his eyes were just as distracting when he had the audacity to wink at her. Buffy pursed her lips and stomped over, hooked her hands beneath his arms and lifted him up, wrapping her arm around his waist in the same fashion as before.
Spike took his time pulling his jeans up and his eyelashes fluttered as he caught a whiff of her hair. He sensed her irritation when the grip around his waist tightened as he continued to struggle so he rolled his eyes and yanked them up, and buttoned them. “There.”
Buffy wordlessly helped him into his wheel chair and handed him a clean t-shirt. “Giles forgot to pack you any underwear, sorry.”
“Oh, that’s because I don’ own any,” he said plainly.
“You don’t….you don’t wear underwear?” she asked incredulously and then blushed again when he tilted his head to the side and ran his hand down his torso.
“Easy access, pet.”
“God, you’re so…”
“I was going to say disgusting!”
“No you weren’. You were going to say, ‘Oh, Spike…that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.’”
“I hate you!”
“Feelin’s mutual, pet,” he said with a leer and wheeled past her, deciding the t-shirt could wait for a while. If his nose was correct, and it always was, little Miss Slayer was enjoying it a little more than she was willing to admit. And that smell was glorious. It meant only one thing: Victory.
Buffy growled and slammed the bathroom door and turned on the shower. If she weren't so angry, she might have noticed that she'd subconsciously only turned on the cold faucet. But she was, and she denied, and she furiously washed away those lingering images of Spike covered in bubbles and grumbling with pleasure as he soaked in the warm water, his mouth parting slightly as puffs of air escaped when she massaged his scalp...and...
Buffy cranked the cold nozzle all the way to the left, allowing the icy water to slam hard against her fevered flesh. Stupid, stupid vampire. She was not attracted to a soulless vampire. She was just lonely. That's all it was. Lonely, heartbroken and forced into a situation that made her think things that weren't true because she hadn't slept in a few days. That's all it was. She was insane if she thought any further about it, and really, it was pretty silly.
What she was not prepared for, however, was coming out of the shower and finding Spike comfortably nestled and spread out on the bed in all his shirtless glory, tucked beneath the covers and fast asleep.
With a long sigh, Buffy slipped on her pajamas and crawled into the bed. She was too tired to care, too tired to notice that Spike's left eye popped open and watched her as she did it, too exhausted to take any precautions for her safety. A wicked grin spread across Spike's mouth and he waited for her to fall asleep. But his plans were often denied, much like they were at that moment because Buffy finally realized the danger of this situation and with two hands and her feet, she shoved Spike off the bed and he toppled onto the floor with a loud groan. She threw a blanket on him and snuggled into the sheets with a sweet smile. "Good night Spike," she said with a yawn.
Chapter 4 by dampersandspoons
Thanks to Sotia for pre-reading the first half of this story. You rock!
Spike managed to pull himself over to his wheelchair some time after the Slayer became an inconsiderate bitch and shoved him onto the floor. He made no moves to be quiet as he struggled to get himself into the contraption, uncaring that Buffy was asleep. In fact, he made as much noise as possible but she never flinched, never made a sound, never gave him any hint that he’d roused her from her beauty sleep.
“You know, any number of baddies could just walk right in here and you’d be dead before your stupid girly-girl brain registered that you had an intruder.”
Buffy’s nose wrinkled, she smacked her lips and nuzzled deeper into her pillow. Spike snorted.
“Hope you’re all nice an’ cozy, Slayer. Don’ worry about me. I’ll just sit here. In this chair where I always sit, bloody…” he trailed off, mumbling incoherently and pursing his lips. “An’ you know what?” He continued when his anger got the better of him and he knew she wasn’t going to wake up, “You’re a bitch!” He pointed at her with that last word. “I didn’ even want to come on this Griswald family vacation an’ you have the nerve to…” He stopped again as Buffy fidgeted in her sleep. A hard line formed between her eyebrows and he heard a tiny noise escape from her throat.
He wheeled his chair next to her and leaned forward. “Slayer? You awake?”
She whimpered slightly, the line between her eyes deepening and her chin quivered. Spike tilted his head slightly as he studied her. Her tiny fists curled around the sheets and pulled them up tightly beneath her chin and her body coiled into the fetal position. She was in a state of distress about something, probably a bad dream he wagered, but there was something about her mouth that captivated him. It twitched and trembled, turned a deeper shade of red and then opened slightly as she let out a quiet plea.
“Please…no,” she said, curling into herself, squeezing her already closed eyes even tighter and Spike watched as the Slayer started to cry in her sleep. He ran his hands through his hair in irritation. He hated to see a woman cry, hated it. He hated it because William, the stupid ponce who continued to haunt his demon, wanted to comfort them, wanted to bring them solace, wanted to make the tears go away. But this was Buffy, no…the Slayer, and who gave a toss if she was crying? He should be laughing his ass off at her pain, not curious as to what got her so upset. It became increasingly difficult to ignore when her soft sniffling and cries turned into all-out body shaking sobs. He knew that sound, knew it well. Spike was well versed in the ways of loss. Then the anger bubbled up within him, that disgusting sticky black feeling of hatred that was all too familiar.
Granted, he had more years of experience with the wanker than she did, but it didn’t take away what she was feeling, didn’t make her pain any less real. What her gut-wrenching sobs did achieve, however, was a feeling within Spike that he desperately tried to ignore. Understanding. He didn’t want to understand the bloody Slayer, unless it was fighting techniques or mental patterns when it came to sussing out a sticky situation. Those things were helpful to him because he could use them later to tear her to shreds with his fangs when he finally had himself one good day. Compassion, empathy and the need to connect were not things Spike was willing to deal with and really, she was just an immature seventeen year old and why did he care at all? He didn’t, he decided. He was just irritated that she was crying and wrecking his day to rest. He should be sleeping right now, but he wanted to have some words with her before he did and then the bitch had to go and make him feel something.
But he couldn’t take it, couldn’t take the noise. He was afraid to wake her, knowing that any comfort he lent her would result in a back-hand to his face but at the same time, he just wanted her to stop. His left hand came up then, shaking as it hovered over her face. Only managing to touch her with the tip of his middle finger, he brushed away the hair that clung to her wet cheeks back behind her ear and then retreated, dropping his hand in his lap with a sigh. What could he possibly do and why on earth would she even want his comfort? He turned his head away and placed his hands on the wheels, ready to wheel away when he heard her strained, crackling voice call out to him between her sobs.
“Spike?” She blinked and furrowed her brow, wiping at her eyes and looked at her hands and then back at him.
He clenched his jaw and turned to face her, groaning inwardly at her expression. She looked miserable, and embarrassed when she realized she’d been weeping. “Yeah?” he said in a curt tone.
“W-what are you doing?” she sniffled.
“I…heard you,” he sighed and shook his head in frustration. “Look, you were cryin’ in your sleep an’ it woke me up.”
“Oh,” she said sadly and laid her head down again. “I’m sorry.” Buffy hoped this wouldn’t happen, prayed even, that she could just have one night where she didn’t wake up crying, especially when she was sharing a room with a vampire and not just any vampire, but Spike. She wasn’t so lucky and by the look on his face, he didn’t give a damn. It was probably for the best that he seemed so cold, she thought, because she didn’t know how to deal with anything else from him. Things were weird enough as it was between them after the bath incident. But she couldn’t stop.
Spike was kicking himself inwardly for his tone, because as she tried to pretend nothing was wrong, her tears started again and she buried her face in her pillow to hide it from him. Fuck. “Don’ cry…please don’ cry, I’m sorry.” His hand came up again and he awkwardly pat her on the back and rubbed her a little too hard and when he saw her body jerking from his manhandling, his touch softened. She didn’t seem to notice, though, as her head continued to burrow deeper into the mattress and pillow, wailing. He closed his eyes and made a brave decision. “Scoot over.”
“Ok,” she said, her voice tiny and small, muffled from her pillow. She shifted slightly, still unable to look at him and Spike turned his chair to the side and hoisted himself up on the bed, grabbing one thigh and swinging it over, then the other, until he was situated on the bed. He rolled onto his side, facing her back and he delicately stroked her arm. She hiccupped between a sob and he reached over to pull her hair out of her face. “Shh, s’ok, Slayer.”
Buffy didn’t know why she let him do it, but she was so tired of feeling this way. It had been three weeks since Angel lost his soul. Three long, miserable, horrifying weeks and it hadn’t been any easier over time as everyone swore it would. Her thoughts were muddled and confused most of the time when it came to thinking about the brunette vampire. Most of her hurt came from the morning after he’d made love to her, the things he’d said, the way he made her feel like she was worthless. And while she knew it was just a demon, not Angel, it still stung. She convinced herself that it held an iota of truth or else he wouldn’t have said it, wouldn’t have mocked her inexperience in such a cold manner. She missed Angel, missed the idea of him, really. But she was struggling to face the fact that Angel was gone and Angelus was here to stay, unless they figured a way to curse him again. But even still, would she want him after that? Could they really have a relationship after all the damage he’d done?
She didn’t think so, nor was she able to think about the blond vampire who was snuggled against her back and successfully calming her down with the low tremor of his voice and soothing words, his hands gently rubbing her arm in a way that belied his strength. She felt his cool breath tickling the back of her neck and his hard chest pressed against her back and for a moment, for now, she allowed herself the comfort she needed. Because he knew, too. Finally waking up in a few hours might change this level of companionship, might revert back to their childish barbs and hateful stares but for now, she would accept whatever he was offering because for the first time in a long while, she felt peace.
Spike felt a burning in his chest, a strange sort of feeling as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. The ease with which she allowed this and the way she fit against him so perfectly was confusing the hell out of him. He just wanted her to stop crying! And now, here he was, limp and lame from the waist down, cuddling with the sodding Slayer and cooing in her ear like a lover. And she was letting him! What the bloody hell was going on? What he should be doing, he said to himself, was taking advantage of her situation and drinking from her throat, stealing the money out of her bag and…and what? Wheel his way out of Dodge? Her blood would probably heal him faster than the pig swill she’d packed for him, but there was no guarantee of that and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was too easy. It lacked the punch of his previous Slayer killings. And he knew that when push came to shove, and oh it would, fighting Buffy, no…the Slayer, would be a delicious event. So really, if he killed her now, wouldn’t he be doing himself a disservice? Decidedly, yes.
So, he’d stick with his original plan. Get healed, kick her ass, cop a feel or six and then drain her dry. So maybe, this whole comforting of the Slayer bit was a subconscious effort to get on her good side, right? But he didn’t really believe that, and his demon was rolling its eyes at his foolishness, as if it knew something he didn’t. And she smelled so wonderful…what was that, cinnamon? Ginger? It was some sort of food-smell but sweet and pure. A mixture of a few things, he gathered, that made up the Slayer package. A scent so decidedly Buffy that he could find her in a crowd of hundreds from its unique aroma. And her skin…god, it was soft. He was a tactile sort of vamp. He liked soft things, warm things…things that reminded him of being cozy and secure. His duster was a perfect example. Hard look, soft leather. Perfectly worn and distressed in all the right places, fit him like a bloody glove, it did. It’s partly why he made Drusilla wear so much velvet all the time. He couldn’t stop touching it. The Slayer’s hair was just as soft and he wondered what she’d look like if she let it grow out a bit longer. It was adorable as hell now, all platinum and just below the shoulders and…sodding hell. Spike must really be tired if he was rambling about the Slayer’s tresses in his mind, not to mention the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own and were currently petting said-hair in a loving way, twirling it between his fingers and letting it slide between them. He hastily pulled his hand away and Buffy nuzzled into her pillow a bit with a soft sigh.
Good. She was asleep now. Problem solved!
Spike rolled over onto his back, ignoring the whimper that escaped from the Slayer and he quickly got back in his chair, rolling as far away from her as possible. He grabbed the blanket that she’d tossed to him earlier that morning and covered himself, tried his best to get comfortable and willed himself to sleep.
Across the room, the Slayer lay soundly with a small smile on her lips, dreaming about a chiseled alabaster chest and piercing blue eyes, long fingers massaging her scalp and a soft English voice whispering in her ear.
Buffy woke feeling more rested than she had in weeks. She yawned loudly and stretched her arms high above her head, wincing when her fists hit the head board. She rolled on her side, fully anticipating seeing Spike still lying there, only he wasn’t. She frowned and looked across the room and giggled. Spike was in his chair, his head craned back uncomfortably, exposing his Adam’s apple, mouth hanging open, his arms haphazardly strewn about his sides and the scratchy hotel blanket bunched in his lap. If he didn’t look dead before, he looked it then. Her giggling woke Spike up with a start and his head jerked forward. “Don’ touch it!” he yelled and then frowned slightly as he took in his surroundings.
“Don’t touch what?” she said with a smile.
“Huh?” he said sleepily and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, must’ve been dreamin’.”
“Uh-huh,” she giggled and flung the sheets off of her body and got out of bed. She stretched again with a strangled moan and Spike pretended not to look, though his eyes were immediately drawn to her bare stomach as her shirt lifted, her ass stuck out in a perfect tease and her breasts strained against the fabric of her thin camisole. Enemy or not, she had a body that could kill. It wasn’t his fault she was too innocent to know what she was doing.
Buffy smacked her lips and grimaced. “Oh god, I need to brush my teeth.”
“Lovely,” Spike said, lighting up a cigarette that he fished out of his duster that lay on the back of his chair.
“You can’t smoke in here! This is a non-smoking room.”
Spike merely looked at her as he took a deep drag.
“Fine, see if I care. Not like you can get cancer anyway, right?” She went to the bathroom.
Spike’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the door. That was almost too easy, for both of them. In fact, she was using a down-right playful tone with him, unlike the vehement hatred she usually displayed in her barbs. He didn’t know if he was offended or grateful. Before he could ponder that for too long, she was back in the bedroom and pulled out a mug. “Hungry?”
“Um…sure,” he said cautiously. He reached for the mug but she walked past him, opened up the mini fridge and pulled out a bag of blood. She poured it into the mug and set it in the provided microwave. Once she’d punched in the numbers, she walked over to her bags and picked out an outfit for the day. She laid it on the bed at the same time the microwave dinged and she ran over, retrieved the mug and happily handed it to Spike.
Spike blinked hard and stared at the mug, then at her.
She smiled and turned back to her clothes, gathering them in her arms and walked back to the bathroom.
“Hm…” Spike took a slow sip from his mug and tapped the ash off of his cigarette with his free hand onto the floor. There was something going on in that blond head of hers, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. So he decided the best bet was to be a silent observer, only speaking if required, until he figured out her motives. She was being awfully nice, too nice. He was suspicious.
“So I was thinking,” she shouted from inside the bathroom, her voice muffled as she pulled a t-shirt over her head, “that I might check out that diner down the street and get some food before we head out. You want to come with me or do you want to just stay here? The sun should be down in a few.”
“Probably best if I come with. Don’ wan’ to lose time, right?”
“Cool! I mean,” she opened the door, fully dressed, “you know, that would be best.”
“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, cocking a brow and taking another slow sip of blood. He watched her packing up their things, took note of her trembling hands, the way she avoided his eyes, the subtle intakes of breath should she accidentally run into him in her frantic movements to get things organized, and the slight blush in her cheeks. He drained his mug and set it down on the dresser, and then he clasped his hands together at his stomach and tilted his head. “Slayer?”
“Yeah?” She stood straight and looked at him with wide eyes.
“You all right?”
“Of course I am!” She answered with a brilliant smile.
Spike’s eyes narrowed and he took a final drag of his cigarette. “You aren’ bein’ nice to me because you feel guilty about somethin’, are you?”
“What? I-I mean, why would I feel guilty?”
“Dunno,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe guilt isn’ the right word. Embarrassed, maybe?”
“Why are you asking me this?” She turned back to her bag that was already packed and unzipped it. He knew she was avoiding it.
Spike smirked and grabbed a t-shirt and put it on. “Look, ‘bout what happened las’ night…”
“I don’t want to talk about it, ok?” She zipped the bag closed again and dropped it on the floor.
Spike felt a sudden burst of anger well up inside him and he spat, “I didn’ do it for your gratitude! So jus’ stop pretendin’ you give a toss, ok?” He grabbed his duster and his bag, placing them in his lap and wheeled towards the door.
“I’m not…Spike, where are you going?”
“Outside! Jus’ leave me the bloody hell alone until it’s time to leave. I don’ need your pity, don’ need your sweet lil’ fake smiles an’ I don’ need to eat sodding dinner with you, ok? So jus’ stop this…weird whatever it is you’re doin’ because it’s messin’ with my head!” He swung the door open and wheeled outside, slamming the door behind him.
Buffy sank onto the bed and stared at the floor. She was terribly confused and had no idea how to react after the night before. How could she tell him how grateful she was for his presence? She didn’t pity him, not at all. She felt bad for his situation and wanted to help him as much as she could, but was that pity? Maybe it was…maybe it wasn’t. She’d obviously upset him somehow…upset him by being nice. Of course he was freaking out. When had she ever been openly nice to him before? Well, never. Not that she felt guilty about that because hey, Slayer. And yet…
With a long sigh, she stood up from the bed and double checked the room to make sure they’d grabbed everything before checking out. She smiled inwardly when she noticed the shampoos and soaps were gone, as well as the hand towels. What a vampire needed those things for was beyond her, but that was Spike for you. She turned off the lights and walked out of the room, reluctantly preparing herself for one very uncomfortable car ride.
Chapter 5 by dampersandspoons
Previously...on 'A Chance in Hell' (theme music)
Spike denies his feelings, yet he gets in bed with Buffy because she's a cry baby. They fight the next morning because he's an idiot and so is she. Tension ensues and George Bush signs a bill that prevents all human babies from vomiting, Christina Ricci discovers that more of her forehead exists beneath her hair line, John Travolta admits that 'Michael' was a shitty movie, and dampersandspoons claims temporary insanity on a murder charge involving Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves stating "I only killed them to save the world from their acting. If that makes me crazy, then lock me up right now." Oh, and Heath Ledger died.
WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS EPISODE!?!?!? READ AND FIND OUT.
Spike sat rather impatiently waiting by the passenger door of the rental car after he’d stormed, as well as one could in a wheelchair, out of the hotel room. He’d instantly lit up a smoke and missed the comfort that pacing gave him when he was pissed. And boy was he pissed. Who the bloody hell did she think she was, anyway…being nice to him? Nice? He was a master vampire, not some sodding cripple. In fact, he was only temporarily disabled, a fact she’d do well to remember. Because as soon as he was healed, the very second he was well enough to stand, he was going to kick the ever living snot out of that California Dream Girl and remind her just who the hell she was messing with. She’d be begging, no…pleading for mercy…and just when she thought he’d give it to her, just when she thought he’d back down…he’d pounce, nice and sweet.
Of course, he failed to remind himself the many times he’d been unsuccessful in the past to bring down this particular Slayer, failed to remember how many times he’d had to turn tail and run…did it in style, at least. But the truth hurt when you were pissed off and sulking in a wheelchair and almost out of smokes. He replayed every incident he’d shared with the Slayer in the past. How well she fought…how she moved like a bloody ballerina, delivered a punch like Mike Tyson and spat out an insult with the ease of Joan Rivers. Aside from the first time when Joyce went Paul Bunyan on him with an ax, he really couldn’t remember a time that either had successfully out done the other. Oh right…the organ. That was bloody poetic, wasn’t it? And painful…he couldn’t forget painful.
Spike moved to kick the side of the car and then cursed when he couldn’t. So he punched it instead.
He’d lived over a hundred and twenty years, raised more hell and caused more mayhem than her gorgeous little head could even possibly comprehend. Pity from a Slayer made him sick to his stomach. He didn’t need her pity, he needed her to shut her juicy lips for five minutes and give a bloke a chance to think up a proper plan to end her life. She was terribly distracting, this slayer. Always with the weird vernacular and sparkling eyes, her stupid shampoo commercial hair and short skirts.
She was a cock tease. Plain and simple.
And wasn’t that just horribly unfair? And wrong! He quickly reminded himself. Horribly wrong. In fact, it was probably her plan all along. Tempt him with her luscious ass and gut-wrenching smiles, get him good and bursting with lust and then kick him straight in the jollies and finish him off with eight inches of wood. Not that his jollies were feeling anything jolly of late. Bloody useless he was. But that would change with a bit more blood, he imagined. He was already feeling a little bit stronger in his back after the two bags of blood he’d had since they left California. He could twist from side to side without screaming in pain, so it was a nice start.
And then that pissed him off more! If Drusilla, god love her, would have taken notice of his condition and sodding helped him to feed, he’d have been healed by now. But who cares about the millions of things Spike did for her out of love and respect, right? Who cares that he moved them all over the world, kicking in doors and burning villages and beating up townsfolk in search of a cure for her when she was too weak to take care of herself? Bloody no one, that’s who! But he didn’t complain because Spike was a good vamp and knew his sodding place in the world. At the fucking bottom! With all the other miscreants and dregs of the demon world that were never appreciated for their grand gestures, thanks very much for that, Angelus. Yes, he was feeling sorry for himself and yes he wished he had some fucking Jack Daniels and yes, Buffy was wrecking everything! He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her cute little blush when she saw him completely starkers, wasn’t supposed to wish for a hard-on just to show her what a real one looked like so that he could get a cheap thrill and brag to Captain Forehead about it later; wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her lips and her soft skin…how supple her thighs were…
Drusilla…now there was a beautiful bird. She has nice…hair. And pretty eyes. And white teeth. And…
Spike extinguished his cigarette and sighed.
What was he thinking about? Oh right. And he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about how tight the Slayer’s pussy might—
“You ready to go?”
Buffy found Spike by the passenger door, waiting for her with a scowl on his face the size of Texas.
“What?” he said a little louder than he anticipated, slightly embarrassed where his train of thought was going as she came out, as if she could read his thoughts.
“I asked if you were ready to go,” she said as she loaded up the back of the SUV.
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and set his jaw in a hard line of determination. “So, ‘bout this diner of yours you mentioned.”
Buffy tilted her head as she walked towards him, “I thought…you didn’t need to eat sodding dinner with me.” She folded her arms beneath her chest and pursed her lips.
Spike rolled his eyes. So she was still pissed off about that? “Oh, so you’re still pissed off about that?”
She eyed him incredulously. “Yeah…it was like…three minutes ago. Sorry if I’m still a bit ‘pissed’,” she did air-quotes, “when you went all day-time soap opera on me with the big exit.”
“Slayer,” he said almost playfully. “Let’s not fight. The kiddies hate it when mum and dad argue.”
Buffy sighed in frustration, even though her eyes zoned in on his bottom lip that was currently jutting out in a very tempting manner. “Is there ever going to be a point to this weirdness or are we just going to stand here for another five minutes driving each other crazy?” Buffy’s mind was reeling with his behavior. Not too long ago, he was screaming his head off and pissed that she was being a decent human being. And now he was…flirting with her? Not that he’d never dropped sexual innuendoes or said things that set her off balance before, but something was different about his mood. He was up to something.
“You know, if you’d spend less time talkin’ an’ more time doin’, we might have been on the road by now.”
Buffy’s mouth opened in shock. “But…you were the one who…” She threw her hands up in the air and huffed. “You are the most annoying person in the world.”
“Thanks, luv,” he said with a smile, taking much delight in her frustration. “Can we go now?”
“God, yes,” she said sighing and opened the passenger door and then smiled when she had an idea. “You think you can get inside yourself?”
“What?” he asked with wide eyes.
“Well, I don’t want to pity you, you know. So I guess I should just let you try to do more things for yourself, right? I wouldn’t want to damage your poor ego by helping you into a car,” Buffy turned to the side to hide her mischievous grin.
Spike’s eyes narrowed into dangerously small slits as his mouth rose up in an infuriating smirk. “Real funny, Slayer.”
“I wasn’t being funny,” she said with mock concern. “I want you to feel…you know, more manly or whatever. God, it must be humiliating to have a tiny girl hoisting you up and down when you could probably manage on your own. I mean, it might take a bit longer, but think how proud of yourself you’ll be once you’re done!”
Spike laughed humorlessly. It wasn’t hard to remind himself how much he hated her when she did things like this. There was no way he could get into the car on his own, which meant that he would have to ask for her help. And the bitch knew it. But he was a stubborn asshole, too. “Fine,” he said, feigning confidence, and wheeled into position near the passenger seat. The tall SUV made it almost impossible for him to find a good grip on anything to pull himself up but there was no way in hell he’d back down and ask for her assistance.
Buffy’s eyes went wide as she watched him struggling to get into the vehicle. She didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. God, he was stubborn. “Spike,” she said taking a step forward.
He ignored her and held onto the door handle with one hand and the edge of the seat with the other and tried to push himself up a third time, shouting in misery. “Fuck this fucking wheelchair!” He collapsed back in his seat with a defeated growl.
Buffy felt awful for egging him on, but was it so hard for him to admit that he needed help with some things? “Will you let me help you now?”
The look he gave her sent a tiny shiver of fear down her spine. “I. Hate. You.”
“Yeah, well…shut up and let me get you in the car.”
Spike angrily looked away and allowed the Slayer to lift him into the seat. He managed to get a whiff of her hair though, so it wasn’t all bad. When she reached for the seat belt, he yanked it out of her hand. “I can do that!”
“Ok, ok…don’t get so testy!”
She walked around the car and got in the drivers’ side after stowing the chair in the back.
“So, are we goin’ to this stupid diner or what?”
Buffy fought back a smile at that. “Yes. But we need to set some ground rules.”
He snorted. “Ground rules?”
“No game face, no scaring the patrons and no killing!”
“Slayer, I’m not goin’ to kill anyone. Couldn’t if I wanted to. Unless they leaned forward or something.”
She turned to look at him as she started up the car. “Spike…if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s never to doubt your vampiric craftiness.”
He didn’t want to tell her that she’d just stroked his ego with that little comment, so he settled for arrogance. “Bloody right.”
“Smoking or non?” The hostess smacked her gum and eyed the blond duo in front of her.
“Smoking,” Spike quickly interjected.
“Right this way,” she said in a bored tone and Buffy pushed Spike along the carpet behind her. Buffy didn’t like the stares shot their way by the patrons and judging by the vice-like grip on his arm rests, Spike wasn’t too fond of them either. But instead of vamping out, like he wanted to do, he drew more attention to himself. Sod the wankers.
“You know, you lot should put in a bloody wheel-ramp. Should sue your asses for it! Took ten minutes jus’ to get up the bleedin’ stairway.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and situated him at the table, removing a few wooden chairs to do so and sat across from him. Neither blond failed to notice that the hostess placed them in the far corner of the restaurant. She nonchalantly tossed two menus on the table and said, “Your waitress will be with you in a minute.” She turned around, leaving them alone in an awkward silence. Buffy distracted herself with the menu and Spike lit a cigarette.
“I like dives like this,” he said atop a long exhale of smoke, looking around the diner. “Dru would never be caught dead in a place like this.”
Buffy refrained from mentioning that she was already dead. She looked up from her menu. “She’d never go to a diner with you? Not even…you know, for a late night snack?”
Spike caught the lightness in her tone and was somewhat awed that she was joking with him about…well, about murder. “No, pet. Not even for that. Somethin’ about the grease that set ‘er off. She’s a refined lady, Dru. Likes all that fancy rot and what not. S’pose it ‘as somethin’ to do with her upbringing.”
“But, I thought you were all Victorian Vamp?”
“I got over it,” he said with a wink and took a drag off his cigarette.
Buffy hid her smile with her menu. “Ooh! They have buffalo wings!”
“Let me see that,” Spike said suddenly, snatching the menu from her hands.
“Hey, you have your own menu!”
“Well, I like yours better,” he said with a smirk. “An’ they come with dipping sauce! That’s it, I’m gettin’ those.”
Buffy folded her arms on the table and tilted her head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “You eat? Since when?”
“Since always, pet. Vamps can eat, contrary to your little Watcher’s diaries. I like the way it tastes is all.”
“You are so strange.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “’Sides…I’m not payin’ for it.”
“I knew there was an evil scheme in there somewhere,” she said with a wink and quickly looked away in embarrassment for her involuntary flirting. But Spike didn’t miss it.
With a boyish grin he said, “Don’ think that jus’ because you’re buyin’ me dinner that I’ll put out, Slayer. I got morals, you know.”
She blinked. “What?!”
“Well, ‘m flattered that you took me on a date, luv. But I require at least dinner AND a movie before we start bumpin’ uglies.”
“This is so not a date, you freak! And what makes you think I would ever bump…whatevers with you anyway?”
Spike started chuckling. “You’re awfully flustered, kitten.”
She crossed her arms and blushed. Spike couldn’t resist.
“Ok, ok…I’ll do it but you have to buy me some ice cream.”
“Allright,” he said rolling his eyes, “I’ll go down on you, but that’s it!”
“Oh my god! Will you shut up?”
Spike licked his bottom lip and gave her a wrinkly smile. “You know, for someone who’s not interested in my talents, and I have plenty,” he said with a leer, “you’re gettin’ awfully worked up.”
Buffy needed to get away from him as soon as possible. If he kept going on this line of conversation, she was sure she’d crack. And she did NOT need those images in her head. “I have to make a phone call,” she said standing up. “And don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m gone or I’ll stake you.”
Spike merely smiled up at her and said sweetly, “Don’ make me wait too long, luv. I’ll miss you.”
She sighed and turned on her heel, walking towards the pay phone. Spike stared at her ass as she retreated. She was too bloody easy to embarrass. And that’s when he felt it. It was the tiniest of things, but it was there. With a wicked smile, Spike looked at his lap and watched the bulge grow in his jeans. He tried moving his legs, but nothing happened. He linked his hands behind his head, happily eyeing the patrons of the restaurant. He was healing, and things were about to change. Now, if only he could get rid of this semi before the Slayer had to help him back in the car.
A large woman with dark blue eye shadow, a mole on her chin, breasts hanging down to her navel and a runner in her pantyhose came up to the table. “Can I take your order?”
Well…that definitely did the trick.
“How is everything, Buffy?”
“It’s going ok, I guess,” she said, twirling the metal phone cord in her fingers as she looked across the diner at Spike. He was smiling about something and it made her suspicious, so she kept her eyes on him during her conversation with Giles.
“Where are you now?”
“We’re in Nevada and about to head out after we get something to eat.”
She heard Giles sigh on the other line. “I’m sorry this is going to take so long, Buffy. Traveling only at nightfall is really cutting into your time.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t so bad.”
“What do you mean?” Giles was curious about her nonchalant attitude. She’d yet to mention her travel companion and he’d fully anticipated getting an earful of screaming fits from her.
“Well, I get really tired after about seven hours or so of driving, so it’s nice to have a break.”
“I see. And what of Spike?”
“What about him?”
“Is he…well, has he tried anything?”
Buffy didn’t think Giles wanted to hear about how she helped give him a bath or how he’d cuddled with her and soothed her when she was crying. “The usual annoyances. But otherwise…strangely cooperative.” She covered her mouth to muffle her giggle when she watched Spike accidentally knock his water glass over on the table and cursed, trying his best to clean it up before some ugly waitress came over to assist him. They battled with the dish rag she offered for a moment before he gave up and let her do it herself.
“…which is why you should be extremely careful,” Giles was saying.
“What? I’m sorry, Spike just did something stupid and I was…never mind. What did you say?”
Giles was silent for a minute. “Buffy…I hope you aren’t putting trust in Spike needlessly. While he is helping us out, he’s only doing it for the money and I have no doubt that he’ll try something at the first opportunity available.”
“Of course not, Giles. We’re just being civil, that’s all. I’m on full Slayer alert to any evil...” Spike was stretching his arms over his head and Buffy zoned out for a moment, watching his muscles flex.
“Buffy? Are you there?”
“Huh? Oh…yeah,” she shook her head and turned around away from the temptation of the vampire across the room. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
"Oh,” he sighed in relief, hoping that was the only thing wrong with his slayer. “Well, I hope you’re being careful. Have you run into any of the Githyan demons yet?”
“Not yet, but we’re still pretty far off from Maryland.”
“That very well may be, but you should anticipate meeting them soon. They’ll know you’re coming.”
“I know,” she said all business like, “And I’m completely prepared for whatever they throw my way. Don’t worry, Giles. I’m being careful.”
“All right, then. Call me once you’ve settled into the next town.”
“Will do. Tell the gang I said hey.”
“Of course, Buffy. Goodbye.”
Buffy hung up the phone and took a deep breath before she went back to the table, giving herself a little pep-talk. “He’s a vampire. An evil, soulless vampire who wants to kill you, not bring you flowers and write you poetry and make love under the stars. It’s Spike, Buffy. Spike. Dirty…evil, sexy, hot…” she closed her eyes and groaned. “One day down…fourteen or more to go.”
TBC! Up next...will Spike have another hard on? Will Buffy find out about it? What will happen when these two crazy kids spend another day in a hotel? Will Buffy get pregnant with Spike-babies? Will Spike become a Scientologist? Will Giles discover that there are new and improved ways to polish his glasses? Will Xander find out that you can in fact talk without the use of your hands? Is Anya thinking about orgasms? Will anyone notice that Andrew was a vampire extra before he was a character on the show? Do unicorns really exist? FIND OUT NEXT TIME, GENTLE READERS.
Chapter 6 by dampersandspoons
Previously...on 'A Chance in Hell'
Spike eats buffalo wings! Buffy looks at muscles! Giles thinks, rather than says, 'good lord', and just what IS the dipping sauce? Spike gets a semi and a waitress solves a rubix cube using her teeth. The Urkel-Bot kills Carrot Top in a hilarious 'first blood' fighting championship and people start to catch on that Kathy Griffin isn't funny! What will happen in today's episode? One can only hope to find out!
They’d been driving for several hours and the last two of them were spent in silence. Spike remained quiet as his mind drifted towards sexy thoughts and Buffy refrained from speaking out of fear. She didn’t know how to tell him, how he would react when she did. But she gathered that sooner or later, she’d have to fess up and face the music. It was important; she knew…something that could possibly change everything between them. This comfortable camaraderie they’d developed would certainly crumble to the ground once she admitted it. But she had to…there was no turning back now.
“I um…I have to tell you something and you have to promise me you won’t freak out, ok?” She braved a glance at him and swallowed when she met his concerned expression, turning back to face the road.
“Ok…” he said cautiously, terrified of what she might say though he remained calm and assertive should he need to throw a punch in there somewhere.
Spike sighed in relief and then her words sunk in. “Wait a minute, we’re what?!”
“Yeah, we’re lost and I’m sorry and I don’t want to hear how stupid I am, ok?” She started rambling angrily. “We were playing that dumb celebrity game and I missed our exit a few hours ago and it’s not my fault that you weren’t paying attention either and you can’t get mad at me because I’ve never driven on a road trip before and the sun will be up in two hours and I don’t know what to do because now there are cows everywhere and I don’t know what street we’re on and wasn’t there a movie about the moors and how you’re supposed to stay away from them? Doesn’t it look like we’re on the moors with all the fog and stuff and oh god Spike, what do we do if werewolves are out here and I have to fight them by myself and the sun comes up because I took too long and--”
Spike grabbed her leg and she gasped. “Take. A sodding. Breath. And calm the fuck down.”
Buffy blinked and nodded. “Ok, I’m ok…”
“Now…pull the car over and park.”
Buffy pulled the SUV to the side of the dirt road and parked the car. Spike sighed loudly and stared out the side window, clenching his jaw. He wanted to be pissed off at her, really wanted to, but he hadn’t been paying attention either. He was so wrapped up in thinking about her legs wrapped around his waist that he’d failed in his navigating duties. After all, he’d had a map in his lap the entire time. He could kick himself for being so stupid, if his legs worked, that is, though he could tell it wouldn’t be long before they did. However, this was exactly what he was talking about; the slayer’s plan to drive him mad with lust. Now they were lost and no guarantee of making it to a hotel before the sun came up. They very well could be right and truly buggered.
“The best thing we can do is jus’ turn ‘round and try to find a store or a service station to ask for directions.”
“But we’ve already lost so much time, Spike! We’ve been on this road forever now and all I’ve seen is cow butt and shrubs!”
“Do you have any other brilliant ideas, pet? We can’t very well stay here, can we?”
Buffy leaned her head back on the head rest of her seat and groaned. “I’m so tired of driving,” she said pathetically.
“I know, kitten, but we’ve got to find a place to stay soon or you’ll have a pile of dust to vacuum out of the seats.” Neither mentioned how odd it was that Spike was comforting her and using pet names. “Let’s jus’ turn ‘round and head back, ok? We’ll get it figured out.”
Buffy gave him a small smile and nodded as she put the car in D. “Cross your fingers.” She promptly turned the car around and back-tracked down the dirt road, both of them keeping their eyes peeled for a side-road or a convenient store, anything to clue them in to their whereabouts. The outlook wasn’t hopeful and Spike became nervous that they’d truly gotten lost.
“If we find a convenient store, I’m gettin’ a drink. No complaints from you, either,” Spike said sullenly.
“I could use one, too.”
“You drink, Slayer?” Spike said with a tiny grin.
“Yeah. I want a cherry slushee.”
“Oh,” he laughed. “You rebel, you.”
“Look! Look!” Buffy boisterously pointed down the road to a brightly lit grocery store in the middle of nowhere.
“About bloody time!”
They pulled into the parking lot and Buffy hurriedly helped Spike into his chair. He’d mentioned that Giles didn’t pack any of his prized hair products or his favorite soap and as much as he appreciated the bubble bath, he didn’t fancy smelling like a git. So they rolled into the grocery store on two missions: Find out where the hell they were, and get Spike a few things to make him feel masculine. They split up, Spike claiming that he was perfectly capable of shopping by his lonesome as well as it saving precious time. She handed him some cash and made her way to the customer service desk to get some help. Once the Slayer was out of sight, Spike pocketed her cash and began loading his duster with various items. No one would suspect a vampire thief in a wheelchair…no one.
After taking a few long moments in the soap aisle and settling on a sandalwood bar, he took the one item to the checkout and paid for it. She’d suss it out if he came out of the store without a bag. Then, once he was out of the store, he’d load the bag with his stolen items and still manage to pull one over on her when he kept the cash. He really was good at this, no matter how petty it was. He waited for her outside the store and she finally emerged, cherry slushee in tow.
“Well? What’s the verdict?”
She took a long sip of her drink and arched her back, moaning when her vertebrae popped. “Unfortunately, we’re an hour from the service road.”
“Perfect,” he said dejectedly.
“But…there’s a motel only a few miles from here. I think the best bet is to check in for the night and start back-tracking tomorrow. She wrote directions down for me.”
Nodding in agreement, they hurriedly made it to the motel just before sunrise. Once they’d settled into their room, Spike promptly made himself a mug of blood while Buffy took a much needed shower. Spike was wired, antsy from sitting for so long and even after he made a second and a third mug of blood, he was still wound up and ready for a tussle or anything to keep him from being bored out of his mind. He figured that Buffy would want to go to sleep immediately but he wasn’t tired in the slightest. However, when he involuntarily scratched his leg, a wicked grin spread across his face. He had an itch, and he’d felt it.
Buffy walked out of the bathroom, drying off her hair with a towel, dressed in a pair of extremely short cotton sleep shorts and a snug t-shirt. Spike wasn’t shy in his approval.
“Tryin’ to drive a bloke mad, luv?”
“Huh?” she said innocently as she bent over and dug in her suitcase in search of her brush, unknowingly flashing her ass in his direction.
Spike groaned and adjusted his pants before she turned around. Neither had mentioned that this was another room with only one bed or their sleeping arrangements. But if Buffy thought for one second that he was going to sleep in his chair again or on the floor, she was up for a very rude awakening. “My back is killin’ me,” he said, hinting.
“Yeah, mine is too. God, you’d think I’d be exhausted from sitting still for so long, but I’m all antsy,” she said as she roughly combed the tangles out of her hair.
“I know what you mean, pet. You haven’ patrolled in a few days, probably all backed up with tension, I reckon,” he reached in his duster and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a swig.
“Hey, where’d you get that?” she asked, lowering her brush and furrowing her brow.
“I nicked it,” he said plainly and shrugged his shoulders as he took another sip.
“Spike! Stealing is bad!”
He chuckled. “Is it?”
“Yes, Spike. Don’t get cute with me! I can’t just let you…steal things!”
“So you think I’m cute, now, do you?” he said curling his upper lip into a sexy sneer.
“Stop…doing that thing with your mouth and changing the subject.”
She pointed at his lip. “That! You’re trying to get me off topic and the topic is that you stole from that grocery store!”
“Didn’ know you were so easily distracted by my mouth, pet. ‘f you wan’, I can really distract you,” he said as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He watched as her golden skin turned bright red, and then let out a husky laugh when she turned around to hide it.
“You’re disgusting, Spike,” she said with no meaning behind it, embarrassed and freaked out that he was turning her on. This was Spike! Evil, evil Spike who was stupid and lame and wanted to kill her and she was in love with Angel! Angel…who wasn’t around anymore and hurt her more than anyone ever had. But Spike didn’t get special privileges just because he had that delicious mouth and those piercing blue eyes and those long fingers that would probably feel so good inside her aching—
“Let’s do somethin’. ‘m bored.”
She turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him as he sat in his chair across the room. “Like what?”
He casually shrugged his shoulders, even though he had a plan firmly planted in his mind. “Well…seems like neither of us are tired, but you should really rest up for the long drive tomorrow.”
“Best thing to calm you down is this,” he said, raising his bottle high in the air.
“Spike. I’m seventeen? I don’t drink.” She folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best slayer pose of defiance.
Spike eyed her incredulously. “You’ve got to be the most uptight seventeen-year-old on the planet. What teenager in their right mind turns down alcohol? Isn’ there some sort of right of passage or somethin’ written in stone that all teenagers get drunk at some point in their sad little lives?”
“Hey! My life is not sad!”
“Oh really?” he said trying not to smile. She was falling right into his trap. “Tell me how your life is so fulfilling and how a tiny sip of JD might spoil it?”
“It’s…wrong,” she said furrowing her brow, “and I don’t trust you!”
Spike scoffed with mock-hurt. “Slayer…I wouldn’t try anythin’! Look at me. I’m completely helpless over here.”
“I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of my weakened state and kill me. Not that you could,” she was quick to remind him.
“Hate to break it to you,” he said coolly, “but this entire time we’ve been together, I could have taken you out.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You so could not.”
“Oh, really? Need I remind you of your boo-hooing last night? I easily could have sunk my fangs in your neck once you’d drifted off to sleep.”
Buffy’s mouth fell open and she felt rage boiling inside her. “I could kick your ass and dust you right now!”
Spike clenched his jaw, pissed that he’d let her get under his skin. This was not the original plan. “But I didn’ do it, did I?” he quickly back-pedaled. “We have a truce, right?”
She sighed and slouched down. “Yeah…I guess so.”
“An’ I’ve honored it, right? Haven’ tried anythin’…been a right gentleman, I have.”
“Except for the crude comments, flashing me in the tub and the stealing.”
“Well,” he said grinning, “I know one of those things you haven’ really minded all that much.”
“God!” she let out a frustrated groan. “Why do you have to do that? You’re so…so…”
“Sexy? Desireable? Fuckable? I could go on, but I think your mind’s takin’ over for me.”
“You are so full of yourself! God, I’ll drink it just to make you more interesting.”
“There’s my Slayer,” he said with a grin and handed her the bottle, frowning slightly at the possessive terminology. Buffy jerked the bottle from his grasp and tilted it back. “Whoah, there, pet…take it easy…”
She started coughing and gagging. “Holy…this is awful!”
He took the bottle from her and drank. “But you feel warm, right?”
She wiggled her arms as a shiver went up her spine from the alcohol. “Yeah, my throat does, that’s for sure.”
They took turns passing the bottle back and forth. Spike deliberately took tiny sips as the slayer guzzled down a good amount. He could tell she was getting loopy when she spread out on the bed on her side, propping her head up on her hands. “I’m so tying you up before bed tonight,” she said with a giggle.
“Nope…not lettin’ that one go,” he said sneering.
“Oh, gross! I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Suit yourself, pet. I bet you’d be one helluva dominatrix.”
“You are so twisted.” Buffy smiled lazily and fell on her back, staring at the ceiling. “This alcohol business is tricky stuff, huh?”
Spike chuckled at her inebriated state and unknowingly swayed his legs from side to side.
“Hey,” she said with a hard line between her brows and she shot up to a sitting position on the bed. “Your legs just moved!”
Spike played innocent. After his third bag of blood, he was already feeling much better but he’d hoped to keep it a secret for as long as possible, or at least for the next few hours until she passed out and he could make his move. “Did not. You’re drunk. Seein’ things is all.”
Buffy folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “So…if I did…this,” she slapped his knee as hard as she could and it took all of Spike’s strength not to respond to the pain. “You wouldn’t feel anything?”
He covered his mouth casually as if he was deep in thought but really he was stifling a groan. “Nope. Not a thing.”
Buffy stood up and circled him in his chair trying to intimidate him. It was working. “So…you’re telling me that everything from the waist down…doesn’t work and can’t feel any pain?”
“Y-yes,” he said with a hard swallow. “Totally handicapped, luv. Why don’ you sit down and drink some more of this?” He offered the bottle to her but she pushed it away and firmly tucked her tongue in the corner of her mouth with a mischievous grin.
“You can’t even feel…” she pulled back a fist and brought it down hard on his thigh, “this?!”
“No!” he shouted, “Can’t feel a bloody thing.” Inside, he was crying out in pain though his expression never wavered.
“Impressive,” she said wickedly. Buffy had a hunch Spike was lying since the muscles in his jaw were ticking and there was a slight sheen in his eyes. She also knew that Spike was a stubborn bastard and could probably take whatever she dealt; except for one thing that no straight man could resist, something that she was just tipsy enough to attempt.
She wheeled him back a few steps and stood in front of him, far enough out of reach but close enough to tempt him. “Gosh, is it hot in here?” she said tugging on the neck of her t-shirt.
Spike took in unneeded breaths. She wouldn’t dare!
Her hands trailed up her stomach, teasing the hemline of her shirt and lifting it slightly. “I feel so…hot,” she said huskily and licked her lips, shifting her weight from foot to foot and looking him directly in the eyes.
“What are you doin’, pet,” Spike said in a warning tone. This was very dangerous territory and if she was about to do what he thought she was about to do, well, then…he was royally fucked.
“Nothing,” she said coyly and turned around looking at him over her shoulder. “Hey, can you touch your toes like this?” She slowly bent over, swaying her hips from side to side as she reached down and grabbed her toes. She smiled at him through her legs which were spread wide.
“Slayer,” he said through clenched teeth. His fingers clamped down on the arm rests of his chair, restraining him from reaching out and grabbing her luscious bum and taking a bite out of it.
“What?” she stuck her hands through her legs and waved at him, still bent over and then trailed her hands up the backs of her thighs as she slowly stood back up, flipping her hair and arching her back. “God, that feels so good to just…stretch like that after such a long time sitting.”
Spike rested his hands in his lap to hide his growing erection, silently cursing it for betraying him. Buffy grinned when she turned around and saw his expression. He was scowling at her, his eyes narrowed and his lips formed a thin line of restraint, but she didn’t have him yet.
“Do you like these shorts, Spike?” she hooked her thumbs in the waist band of her shorts and pulled them down a bit to show the elastic of her thong as she walked closer to him.
“You’re such a bitch,” he said shaking his head from side to side and dragged a hand down his mouth. “Not nice to tease a cripple, Slayer.”
She bit her lip and placed her hands on either side of his head, leaning down next to his ear and whispered seductively, “Who said I’m teasing?”
That was it. The last and final straw. The bitch was pressing her tits up against his chest after she’d wagged her ass in front of him. Consequences be damned, Buffy didn’t know the game she was playing and if she kept it up, Spike was going to teach her how it was done. One way or the other, he was going to put a stop to this torture.
“What’s the matter, Spike?” She stuck out her bottom lip and played with the hem of her t-shirt. “Can’t get it up?”
“Oh, that’s bloody it!” Spike leapt out of his chair and in two strides he was in front of her, grabbing her arms. Buffy shrieked and then struggled to get out of his grasp but soon he had her pinned against him, his arms around her waist securing her own at her side, his erection pressed against her stomach and his mouth hovering over her ear. “I told you not to tease me.” His voice was low and calm, sending shivers down her spine.
“Let me go!”
“Oh, no, Slayer,” one hand trailed down her back, “You don’ get to put this ass on display,” he demonstrated by squeezing said ass, holding her firm when she struggled, “an’ then take it away. Not nice.”
“All this time you could walk, you bastard!”
“Not true, pet. Still a bit wobbly but I jus’ figured it out tonight.”
“Spike, I’m serious, let me go!”
“Oh, you can’t get out of this little hold, Slayer? I’m disappointed,” he pouted.
She glared at him and finally managed to break his hold, pushing him away from her. He stumbled a bit but managed to stay on his feet. “Stay away from me!” She was panting and straightening her clothing, pissed with herself that being so close to him put far too many images in her head than she was comfortable dealing with, most of them involving him being naked. It was probably the alcohol.
“NO!” he shouted, and charged for her again but this time, he pushed her and she landed on her back on the bed. He was on her in seconds, holding her arms above her head with one hand and his legs pinned hers beneath him. She wiggled and grunted as she tried to break free and Spike growled when she rubbed him in the right spot. “Truce, remember?”
“We agreed…not to kill each other.” Spike lowered his head to her neck and grazed her heated flesh with his lips.
“So then…what are you doing? Let me go,” she whined, even though she arched into him when she felt his cold breath tickling the spot behind her ear.
“Mm-mmm.” He shook his head slowly and brought his free hand to her waist. “You started this, an’ we’re gonna finish it.”
Buffy closed her eyes as Spike’s fingers dipped beneath the waist band of her shorts, tracing the hem around her waist and then quickly opened her eyes when she felt him thrust his erection against her. His mouth was centimeters over hers when he said, “You want this, Slayer. I know you do.”
“No,” she said weakly, even though she made no move to resist him when his tongue darted out to seek entrance in her mouth. He kissed like no other, kissed like he’d wanted her all his life, biting and sucking, thrusting against her, exhaling on her swollen lips before diving in again. She almost allowed it to go further when she realized what was happening, and who it was happening with. She took advantage when he loosened his grip on her hands and quickly pushed him off of her.
He landed on the floor and had the audacity to smirk at her with rightful arrogance. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, pet,” he said as he stood up.
She was still on her back and she started to move but he quickly grabbed her by the ankles and held her still. “Spike, stop it!”
“Make me,” he said grinning and yanked her down to the edge of the bed, purposely settling between her legs. When her hands came up to punch him, he released her ankles and grabbed her wrists. Buffy decided that she hated alcohol because he was moving way too fast for her. In the next instant, she was on her feet with her hands twisted behind her back, her chest against a wall and Spike pressed up against her ass. “Now you listen to me, little girl,” he said huskily, holding her arms with one hand and trailing the other down her stomach and down her shorts, teasing the elastic of her panties with the tips of his fingers. “You can fight me all night long,” his mouth was on the back of her neck, “an’ I’ll jus’ want you even more. So what’s it gonna be, Slayer?”
“I hate you!” She shouted, struggling weakly against him, her breath quickened when the palm of his hand made contact with her mound, his fingers skimming the tops of her thighs.
“Oh, I don’ think so, luv.”
“Right, then.” Misunderstanding her plea either on purpose or not, Spike yanked her shorts and underwear over her hips and let them drop to the floor. She gasped and pressed her forehead against the wall, biting her lip and waited for it. Somewhere deep down, she knew she could get out of his hold, but right next to that place inside her was another part telling her that she didn’t care. He spun her around again, slamming her back against the wall and pressed himself against her, placing his knee between her legs to spread them wider, still holding her hands above her head with one hand. She glared at him and one corner of his mouth lifted into a proud smile, his free hand dancing across her shaved mound. “So…you wouldn’t want me to do this,” he said softly as his fingers slipped between her legs and gently traced her folds.
Buffy couldn’t help the shuddering gasp that escaped her lips but still managed to say, “No.”
Spike kissed the side of her neck, and then dragged his tongue along her jugular as he spread her lips open with his fingers, moaning softly against her ear. “Then tell me why you’re all wet.”
Buffy had no response. Her brain momentarily shut down as his evil fingers began stroking her, almost begging her traitorous body for more moisture which she could feel it was gladly giving him. “Guh…”
“Say stop, Buffy,” he whispered against her mouth as he slipped one long finger inside her.
“I’m sorry, what was that? Did you say, ‘Please Spike, more?’” He slowly pulled out, keeping only the tip of his finger inside her as he awaited her response. He could feel her walls throbbing, aching for him to return but he wouldn’t give in until she admitted how bad she wanted it.
She closed her eyes and gasped for air, lolling her head to the side. She needed him, she knew she did, but he was pissing her off with how arrogant he was and also scared to death of what he might be capable of. But then he made her decision easy for her. He gently bit down on her neck with blunt teeth and growled, reminding her exactly what he was capable of.
“Stop, Spike,” she said firmly and started to wrestle out of his grasp.
Spike pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes. “I won’ hurt you, pet.”
“I don’t care…just stop!” She roughly pushed him away from her and pulled her shorts and panties back up, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. Spike tilted his head and studied her but she refused to look at him. “We can’t…we can’t do this, ok?”
“Why not?” he said sulking. “I jus’ got my firs’ hard on in months, luv.”
She scoffed and glared at him. “Oh, so that’s all that was, then? Why don’t you just go to the bathroom and jerk off then, since I’m no step above that!”
“What the bleeding hell are you on about? You’re much better than a wank, I promise.”
“Oh my god, we are not talking about this!” She shoved past him and he turned around to follow her as she busied herself with her suitcase, unsure of what she was looking for but she needed a distraction.
“One minute, you say you don’ want me to touch you, then you get pissed because you think I don’ think you’re good enough for me? What the hell is wrong with you?” She wouldn’t answer and it only infuriated him more. “You want me, I know it. Obviously,” he pointed to his crotch, “I want you, so let’s quit the dramatics an’ do what we both want!”
“I do not want you!” She shouted, spinning around to face him. “I could never want you!”
“Uh…hate to break it to you, kitten…but when your pussy’s soakin’ wet and moaning like a bitch in heat…’m pretty sure that means you wan’ me.”
Spike shook his head and laughed humorlessly at her insult. “You know what? You’re not even worth it!”
Buffy’s chin quivered though her expression was full of anger. She quickly turned her head away when she felt the sting in her eyes.
“Slayer,” he said, his anger softening at the hurt in her eyes. “I didn’ mean that…I know what Angel said after…”
"Don’t you dare talk about Angel!” She screamed, stalking towards him. “You don’t get to say that name around me, you don’t get to speak about him, you don’t get to do anything but what I say, when I say it, do you understand me?” She was right up against him now, staring him down, daring him to make a move.
“Oh, jus’ tempt me, pet,” his eyes were dangerously thin, completely up for the challenge. He tried to play nice and she wanted to be a bitch. That was fine by him as well, he could take her. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife as both blonds waited for the other to strike. Neither did, content with the staring game taking place. And then Buffy couldn’t take it any more.
She grabbed his head with both hands and smashed her lips against his in a bruising kiss.
TBC!!! *Will Buffy use tongue? Is Spike willing to 'bury the hatchet' and give in? Are puns intended? Why is abbreviated such a long word? Just who was that masked man? And...is dampersandspoons an evil bitch for leaving you hanging? Find out next time when she discovers cold fusion and helps the Hardee boys solve a mystery! Don't forget your decoder rings, kids! The clue is in the prize!*
Chapter 7 by dampersandspoons
“Oh, jus’ tempt me, pet,” his eyes were dangerously thin, completely up for the challenge. He tried to play nice and she wanted to be a bitch. That was fine by him as well, he could take her. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife as both blonds waited for the other to strike. Neither did, content with the staring game taking place. And then Buffy couldn’t take it any more.
She grabbed his head with both hands and smashed her lips against his in a bruising kiss.
Strong arms instantly banded around her waist, tongues dueled, hoarse moans tore from their mouths, and her golden legs wrapped around his slim waist so fast that they both tumbled to the ground. She muttered a brief apology against his swollen lips before attacking them with hers once more. She straddled him as he sat up, moaned when his hand slid beneath her shorts and groped her ass, arched her back when his free hand squeezed her breast over her shirt and frantically ground her pussy against his erection, thrilled when he moaned, too. His frantic breathing and desperate nips of his teeth on her lips and jaw increased her desire for him. She slid her hands beneath his t-shirt, caressed his well defined abs and moved to his chest, tweaking his nipples. Apparently, Spike liked this very much so she did it again.
Her fingers then gripped his hair as he sucked her nipples through the thin cotton of her shirt. She was going to come just from this, just from his mouth soaking her shirt and his hand dipping further, teasing out more fluid from her entrance. She felt it building quickly, her heart pounding against her chest and her lungs tightening as she struggled to suck in the thick air around them.
Her back stiffened, his hand stopped moving and his tongue paused, poised above her sodden shirt and he closed his eyes. “I mean…Sl-Buffy! Oh, Buffy,” he tried to correct himself, quickly returning his ministrations to her once welcoming flesh but soon found himself on his back, clutching his bleeding nose and his body left suddenly cold as she stood above him, looking scorned and rightfully pissed, shaking off the fist that slammed into his face.
With trembling hands, she smoothed her hair out of her face and glared at him. “Dru? Did you just…Oh, god,” she turned around and started pacing. “God, I’m so stupid!”
“Slayer,” Spike said as he fought to stand up, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I didn’ mean it.”
She snorted and narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t say a word to me!” She eyed the now empty bottle of liquor. “You…you tricked me!”
“What? No, I…”
“Yes you did! You got me drunk so you could…what, kill me?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged as if she should have known better. “Evil, yeah?” When he saw that she was struggling to keep her tears in check, he rolled his eyes. “But things changed, right? Didn’ know I was goin’ to get a strip tease from you!”
“Oh, so that makes it all better? God, you’re such an asshole! You have a girlfriend and I…I acted like such a ho and all you wanted was to…”
"Girlfriend?” Spike snickered. “Dru hasn’ been my girlfriend since…well, ever, really.”
“What?” She was so confused, and irritated, and sexually frustrated, and angry, and she didn’t think she could take any more of this conversation right now.
“Look, I love Dru, right?” When she made to strike him, he threw his hands up in the air in mock submission. “Jus’ like you love Angel. Don’ get high an’ mighty with me just yet, luv. Not two minutes ago you were begging for me to stick it to you.”
“I was not begging!”
Spike folded his arms across his chest and cocked a scarred eyebrow. “Right. As I was sayin’…I love Dru, but she’s out shaggin’ the Great Git right now, can’t say the sentiment is so lovingly returned at the mo’. However, bein’ with someone for over a century tends to hard-wire your brain into habit! So I said ‘er name, s’not like it’s the end of the sodding world.”
“Gosh, Spike! You really know how to romance a girl. Tell me, do the ladies usually drop their panties when you tell them that you love someone else?”
“Oh, don’t act so disappointed, luv. What, did you think I had feelings for you? Did you honestly think this meant something to me? It’s just a shag, that’s all.” Spike instantly regretted those words as soon as he said them, mainly because they weren’t true and also because for a moment, he thought he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. But this was how Spike handled rejection. Better to reject them first before they could stomp on his heart.
Buffy clenched her fists at her sides and said through her teeth, “It means something to me!”
Spike’s mouth opened to say something, but she’d already bolted to the bathroom and locked the door. Ire returning, he marched to the door and pounded on it.
"Slayer, get your ass back out here!”
“You know I can break it down, right?”
“You do and I’ll stake you!”
Spike sighed. “Will you please jus’ talk to me?”
“Spike, I’m not kidding…leave me alone.”
Fuck. She was crying. But, why was she crying? She hated him! “Are you crying?” He jiggled the door handle.
“Go away! I hate you!” Buffy was huddled by the bathtub, wiping at her eyes. Stupid vampire. All he wanted was to get back at his stupid ho-bag girlfriend and her stupid hormones made her do something stupid.
“You already took a shower,” he said when he heard her turn on the water.
“And I’m taking another one to wash off the romantic memories!”
Spike growled. “Then hurry up so I can get your stupid Slayer juices off my fingers. The smell’s makin’ me sick!”
Spike whirled around and punched the wall. Buffy scrubbed her skin raw. Spike lit a cigarette and cursed the sun that trapped him. Buffy stomped her foot as she squeezed out a healthy dose of shampoo, uttering vampiric insults under her breath. Spike sat on the bed and closed his eyes, licked his lips and groaned at the taste that still lingered on them. Buffy shivered when her hand grazed against her still erect nipple. Spike sucked his finger clean, unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock, laid back and began stroking and smoking with his free hand. Buffy pinched her nipples, bit her lip and angled her hips just right above the removable shower head. Spike came right as he extinguished his cigarette, his hips rose up off the bed and he panted, cleaned himself up and zipped up his jeans before he sauntered over to the bathroom door again. Buffy bit the palm of her hand as she came, hurriedly rinsed off and wrapped a towel around her body at the same time Spike pounded on the door.
“You ‘bout done in there? I feel nauseous.”
She flung the door open angrily, steam billowed out into the hotel room, water droplets ran down her shoulders into her cleavage, hidden from view by the twist of her towel, her eyes flared with fury and Spike choked, thinking that she’d never been more beautiful. “I don’t think there’s enough soap in this hotel to wash you off of me. It’s all yours,” she said with a saccharine grin.
Spike smirked, narrowed his eyes and stalked towards her, grinning inwardly when she flinched as he raised his hand. She thought he was going to touch her but instead, he pushed the door open wider and bullied his way past her, sniffing the air as he did. Spike tilted his head, batted his eyelashes and bit his lip as the scent of her climax hit his nostrils. “Why, Buffy…if you needed help in here all you had to do was ask.”
Before she could punch him or sling him an insult, he slammed the door in her face and locked it, sighing with satisfaction. Buffy let out a growl of frustration when she heard his low chuckling echoing in the bathroom. When the water turned on and he started singing, “I don’t want anybody else! When I think about you I touch myself,” she threw on some clothes, grabbed her car keys and went outside. He thought he was so damn cute, but he had another thing coming. Or…another thing about to happen…not coming. Coming bad. Buffy smiled as she pulled out the necessary items from the trunk of the car and walked back to the hotel room and waited for him to get out of the shower.
Her plan was foiled momentarily however, when Spike walked out of the bathroom. He was completely and totally naked. Her eyes traveled down his chest to his abs to his…”Oh God, Spike!” She covered her eyes, shielding them from the sight of his rather large appendage, soft as it was. Spike shrugged his shoulders and walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out a comb. He leaned against the wall and slicked his hair back, completely comfortable in his nudity, looking at her with that expression of his that always said two things: I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe and I want to beat the shit out of you. She’d never met a man before Spike or after who could pull both off in a single look so effortlessly.
“Don’ go all school girl on me now, Slayer. You’ve already seen it.” He smiled when he saw what she was clutching in her hands. “Is that for me, pet? Knew you had it in you.”
Buffy looked at the ropes in her hands and grimaced. “Is that all you think about?”
“It’s not all I think about, luv. Sometimes I think about making love.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. And…please put some clothes on.”
“Spike…put some damn clothes on!”
Shit, he was sitting next to her now. Naked. She quickly pulled a stake out of her pants and pressed it to his chest. “Or this will be the last thing you remember.”
Spike felt like a challenge and besides, he knew she wouldn’t stake him. She needed him in more ways than one. The thought was delicious! So he lay back on the bed and smiled at her. “How about you jus’ tie me up like you’re dyin’ to do.”
Spike thought he’d won, but Buffy decided to take advantage of the situation. “All right, Spike.” She smiled coyly and straddled his waist, fighting back the urge to grind against him when she felt his cock twitch beneath her. With Slayer speed, she bound his wrists together.
“Hey, that hurts,” he cooed and bit his lip. “Do it again.”
“God, you’re so gross!” She yanked the ends of the rope and tied him to the head board, unknowingly dangling her tits above his mouth. He fought the urge to bite them.
“Gonna take advantage of me, Slayer? I’m all trussed up an’ helpless. Are you gonna beat me? Fuck, I hope you do,” he lifted his pelvis.
Buffy closed her eyes, ignoring his lithe form pulled tight beneath her. The point was to restrain him so she could get some sleep and now he was making that incredibly difficult for her. On top of that, she was stupid and tied him to the bed, not the chair like she originally planned. But sometimes, when you’re the Slayer, you have to think on your feet. Unfortunately, her feet weren’t thinking too clearly, nor were her hands that were currently resting on his chest. She pulled them away like she’d been burned and reluctantly slid off his body. “If you say one more word, I’m gagging you.”
Spike moaned. “Tease.”
She lifted her chin in the air and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Without a reply, because that’s clearly what he wanted, she covered his naked body with the blanket and turned off the bedside lamp. With her clothes still on, even her jacket, she got into bed, lay on her side away from him and closed her eyes.
Spike smiled in the darkness. “Good night, Buffy,” he said silkily.
Since Spike’s legs were the only thing he could move at the moment, he decided a little more torment never hurt anyone. So he turned on his side and slid one big toe up the back of her calf. She swatted it away and grunted, slamming her head further in the pillow once satisfied that he stopped. Swallowing a chuckle, he tried another tactic. Her reactions were just too arousing to give up. Hadn’t she realized by now that the more she resisted, the more he wanted her? So he spooned his legs behind hers and trapped her feet with his.
“What are you doing?”
“My feet are cold.”
“You’re dead, that’s why. Aren’t you used to it by now?”
“But you’re so warm an’ snuggly. Come on, let me have ‘em.”
Buffy bit her lip, hiding her smile. She sighed. “Will you leave me alone if I let you?”
“Course I will.”
She could hear the grin in his voice. “Fine.” She felt him rub his feet against hers, press his knees into the crook of her legs and sigh contentedly as he pressed against her. She almost wished his hands weren’t tied so that he could wrap his arms around her. Almost.
“Mmmm, my lil’ electric blanket,” he mumbled against her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open when she felt his shaft hardening against her ass. Just ignore it, she said to herself. Close your eyes and go to sleep and it will all go away. Then he started nuzzling his nose in the nape of her neck and purring. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips and then she growled when he chuckled against her ear…that low, silky tenor that sent shivers down her spine. “Ok, no more snuggles! Roll over.”
“Oh, please? I’ll be good. Unless you want me to be bad so you can punish me.”
She pushed him off of her and swatted his shoulder, angered even further when he started laughing at her. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” he smiled and then he rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Slayer. I’m only playin’ with you. I promise I won’t try anythin’.”
“You try one more thing,” she said in her best stern voice, “and I’ll kick your ass.”
“You ‘ave my word.”
She looked at him for a moment, and then turned back to her previous position, not even flinching when he curled up behind her again. It was nice after all, and luckily…she thought…he just lay there, true to his word, and fell asleep. Buffy shoved her hands between her knees and groaned. There was no way in hell she could go to sleep now. How did he do that? All he’d done was spoon her and she was soaking wet and dying for his touch. This was not good. This was very, very bad and they couldn’t get to Maryland fast enough for her liking. Once they’d disenchanted the stone and kicked some Githyan ass, she could stake Spike and be done with this craziness. What was she thinking, making out with the undead, again? As if she hadn’t learned from her mistakes with Angel and now she was two spoonings away from mounting him and shouting his name. What she should do was climb out of the bed and sleep on the floor. But then Spike sighed sweetly in his sleep and tucked his head over her shoulder, resting his cheek against hers and somehow, she forgot what she was thinking about. In mere moments, she drifted off into a peaceful slumber…with a naked vicious killer snuggled against her back and tied to the head board.
TBC! Find out if Spike wakes up with arm cramps in the next chapter!
Chapter 8 by dampersandspoons
ATTENTION! If you got an email today (6/11) saying that I updated this story, it is a mistake! I accidentally posted an epilogue from another story onto this one (I'm very tired) so I'm sorry for the confusion. HOWEVER...I WILL be updating a new chapter today, so if you get a second email, please don't ignore it! Thank you and I'm so sorry for the annoying mistake. :(
Spike woke up feeling incredibly, blissfully warm. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on that warmth and begging the Powers to let it last. Only a slight movement next to him made that incredibly difficult. He opened one eye and a slow, devious smile spread across his lips. Buffy was sprawled over his torso, her head nestled beneath his chin, her cheek pressed against his chest, one arm on his stomach and one leg flung over his. At some point in the night, she’d removed her jacket and her exposed flesh that wasn’t covered by her camisole simply burned him. He tried to reach down to brush a rogue hair away from her cheek but was met with resistance. He’d forgotten about the restraints, and now that he was thinking about it, his arms hurt like a bitch from being pulled high above his head.
She made a quiet mewling noise and her hand scratched its way down his abdomen, beneath the sheet and all the way down to his…
“Ohhh…” he moaned quietly, hoping not to wake her. Something else was waking up, though, and that was not good. The Slayer’s hand was resting on the base of his cock and over his balls and she had absolutely no idea. He wiggled his hips a bit to see if he could get her hand a little higher, but that only made things worse. As a reflex, she gripped his now hard shaft and he bit his lip so hard it almost bled. Buffy nuzzled her head on his chest and grumbled something in her sleep before she released him again, but her hand slipped upwards over the tip of his cock before it landed safely on his stomach and there was no way in hell Spike could stop the involuntary movement of his hips when she touched his sensitive head. He jerked forward with a shudder, cursing quietly afterwards.
It was too late. The movement woke his sleeping slut.
Buffy’s head shot up and she inhaled sharply, her vision still foggy from sleep. “What? What happened?” Then she realized her position on the bed and that her hand was dangerously close to Spike’s…”Oh my god!” She sat up and covered her mouth with the same hand that had sought out a special prize while she slumbered.
Spike stared at the ceiling, his lips in a thin line of irritation. “Mornin’, Slayer. Sleep well? It was a bit touch and go there for a while, but I managed.”
“What are you talking about?” She noticed a twitching beneath the sheets and gasped. “Eww, Spike!”
Well, he was going to keep the incident to himself to save her from embarrassment, but she’d screwed that little plan up by thinking his cock was something to be disgusted by...after she’d been the reason for his hard-on. So, fuck her. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep your bloody hands to yourself! Practically tugged me off a second ago. I feel violated.” If his hands weren’t tied, he’d be crossing his arms right now in defiance.
“I did not touch your…your…”
"Say the word, Slayer. It’s not hard. Well, it is…but you get the idea.”
The bastard was grinning at her, tapping his tongue behind his teeth as Buffy blushed crimson. “Don’t get cute with me, Spike,” she got off the bed and cast a hand through her hair, studiously avoiding the tent in the sheets. “I know that guys…wake up with morning wood. Don’t blame it on me.”
“Oi!” he shouted, “I was perfectly fine until that hot lil’ hand of yours took the south exit beneath the sheets. I should’a known you were a perv…tyin’ me up jus’ to take advantage of me.” He pouted.
“ME take advantage? You’re the one who got me drunk last night, and let me tell you, that’s the only reason I ever let you touch me!”
Spike closed his eyes, fuming with anger. This was a losing battle, what with him being tied up and naked with a bulge the size of Texas beneath the sheets. All he had was words and hers were pissing him off. Yeah, he’d planned on getting her drunk, but that was to kill her, not make out with her! That part just happened, as a side note. Because he wanted her. No, he wanted to kill her. Right now, Spike wanted to murder the Slayer and dance in her blood. Even though her nipples were calling to him like sirens, but he was getting ahead of himself and the stubborn bint was denying how much she wanted him, too. Wanted him so bad, in fact, that she fondled him in her sleep! He had half a mind to believe she was faking just to cop a cheap feel.
“’f it makes you feel better to convince yourself of that, Slayer, go right ahead. But you an’ I both know we were two seconds away from joinin’ at the hip.”
“Yeah, until you said her name,” she mumbled under her breath.
Spike heard it.
He smiled arrogantly and stretched on the bed, tugging on his restraints. “Was an accident, luv. We can start over if you like. I promise the only thing I’ll scream will be ‘Buffy’!” He moaned her name huskily, closing his eyes with mock ecstasy.
She ignored the tingles between her legs when he said her name that way and instead threw a pillow at his face. “You’re such a pig!” Angrily, she spun on her heel and made her way to the bathroom but Spike’s voice halted her.
“You could at least untie me so I can take care of this!”
With a saccharine grin, she turned around, folded her arms and cocked her head. “Poor Spike. You know what? Why don’t you roll over on your stomach and hump the mattress. Maybe it will remind you of your girlfriend’s bored expression every time you have sex.” Satisfied with the incredulous look on his face, she turned back around and went into the bathroom for yet another shower.
“That was a low blow, Slayer!” he snarled, struggling helplessly in his restraints and thrashing his legs on the bed. “No woman’s ever been bored with me, you bitch!”
Buffy giggled as she turned on the water. She didn’t doubt that Spike had skills in bed, but leaving him in that condition was too hard to resist. Her eyes suddenly widened when she realized that soon, she’d have to release him so they could get back on the road. She might have gone a teensy bit too far. He wasn’t crippled anymore and was one hell of a fighter. She hoped he wasn’t planning on making her eat those words…with fangs. Buffy so didn’t have time for temper tantrums.
Spike was pissed beyond words. No bloody way was he letting her get away with that. Using all his strength, he wrapped his hands around the rope for more leverage and pulled. After three grueling tries, the motel’s wooden headboard shattered from the pressure and Spike was free. He slipped on a pair of jeans and his boots, and then he quietly walked to the bathroom door, listening closely for her movements. She was in the shower, singing some awful Madonna song about virgins. He suppressed a smile from the affect her adorable tone deafness had on him and instead focused on his intent which was to beat the shit out of her, drain her dry, steal her car and money and get the fuck out of town. On a silent count of three, he kicked the door in and they both froze. For very, very different reasons. Buffy, partly in shock that he’d freed himself, but also because of the hand she’d currently snaked between her legs to wash herself. She knew what it must have looked like. Spike’s eyes zeroed in on said-hand, all thoughts of murder on the back burner for the time being. She was soapy, and golden, and so very naked. And he was so dazed by the sheer brilliance of this moment that he didn’t see her expression turn into that of absolute rage and lunge for him.
Even barefooted, the Slayer could pack one hell of a kick to his chin, sending him flying back into the wall. Without caring of her condition, she continued to punch and kick and hurl the stunned vampire until he was finally knocked unconscious by an end table. In Spike’s defense, he was really having trouble concentrating when she’d lift her legs for a brutal kick, or bounce around to punch him, exposing parts of her body he’d become entranced with, body parts shiny with soap and begging him for a pinch or a lick. Buffy thought maybe she should fight vamps naked more often…the effect was similar to kryptonite.
With inhuman speed, she bound his wrists together. He’d still be able to cause some damage if he wanted, but it would have to do while she dressed and packed their things. He groaned behind her as he came to and she held a stake in her hands in plain view. She had no time for his retaliation, and luckily, Spike wasn’t in the mood to fight. His head felt like a frozen pineapple and he licked up the blood that trickled from his nose.
Before he could say or do anything, Buffy unceremoniously dumped a bag of pig’s blood onto his bare stomach. “Drink fast. We’re leaving in five. And if you try to bolt, I’ve got a cross bow,” she pointed to the bed where the weapon lay, “with your name all over it. So just try me.”
Spike muttered a few choice curse words under his breath as he ripped open the cold bag of blood with his teeth. Buffy sat on the bed and phoned Giles, eyeing Spike’s every movement and clutching her stake with her free hand.
“Hey Giles, it’s me.”
“Buffy, thank god! I hadn’t heard from you. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, we sort of missed the last exit so we’re going to have to back track tonight. Might have lost a day of travel.”
“Oh, dear,” he sighed. “This certainly puts a damper on things.”
“Yeah, but as long as we stay on schedule from this point on, we should make it to Maryland in time.”
“I hope that you do. Buffy, things have gotten quite chaotic since you left. Are you sitting down?”
Buffy swallowed and glanced at Spike for a moment before she answered her watcher. “Yeah, I’m sitting. What happened?”
Spike stopped mid gulp and tried to listen to the conversation. Vamp hearing really did come in handy.
“Angelus and Drusilla have created quite an army of fledglings and while Xander and I have tried our best on nightly patrols, we’ve had to stop short several times only to save our own lives. Word has reached the demon community that you’re gone.”
“Well, we anticipated that. Let’s just hope I can get back as soon as possible. And Giles? Your life is more important. If you or Xander got hurt…”
“I know, Buffy. We’ve all been inseparable, especially at night in order to be safe. Joyce has requested that we all stay with her until your return.”
Buffy completely forgot that Giles took on the responsibility of telling her mother about her calling. If she was already playing protector to her friends, maybe she didn’t take the news as hard as she anticipated. “That’s probably for the best. How did she take the news?”
“As expected,” he said tensely. “However, Angelus and Drusilla have driven it home for her.”
“What do you mean, Giles?” Buffy panicked and Spike’s ears perked up. He stood and walked towards her, sucking on the bag of blood and listening intently. He was curious and a little jealous over what his family was up to. It had to be deliciously devious.
“She called me this morning complaining about strange noises during the night. It seems that Angelus and Drusilla were…fornicating below your bedroom window.”
Buffy’s hand tightened around the phone and she closed her eyes. Spike’s jaw clenched. “If they touch my mother…”
“I don’t think the gesture was for Joyce, Buffy. They’ve been leaving rather…suggestive mementos of their lovemaking on your front porch. They must know that you would find out, possibly in the hopes that you’ll abandon your mission to seek revenge.”
“Bugger, that!” Spike yelled.
“Was that Spike?”
“Yeah…he doesn’t seem amused. Nor am I for that matter.”
Spike paced the motel room angrily on the verge of tears or absolute rage. No matter how many times he’d seen it before him, knowing what his Grandsire and Sire did so frequently still stung. He envied Buffy at that moment. Her demeanor was calm and business like, void of any emotion. He supposed the Slayer had to be this way, though he felt a pang of remorse for her. She was still only seventeen and shouldn’t have to be stoic for the sake of humanity. She should be weeping with her girlfriends and painting her nails and spending hours bashing her ex boyfriend. Not trapped in a motel with the likes of him, hearing the dirty details of her ex lover’s affairs. He sat down on the bed finally, having ignored the rest of her phone conversation as his thoughts took over.
Buffy hung up the phone and sat silently for a moment, uncaring or unaware that Spike was next to her. “Time to go.”
“I can’t believe him!” Buffy pounded the steering wheel as they drove down the highway.
“He’s a git, Buffy.”
“He told my mother I was a lousy lay,” she sniffled, “my mother! God, she must hate me right now. I couldn’t even tell her about my calling and now Angelus is screwing Drusilla right on our front door and telling my mother I suck in bed.”
Spike had heard bits and pieces of Angel’s time with the Slayer, though he knew most of his crude comments were out of rage for having been souled for so long. And Drusilla ate up every word with admiration for her dear ol’ daddy. “Yeah, an’ stupid Dru shagging him right in front of me all the time. What’s that about?”
“I can’t even imagine that,” she said comfortingly, though her tone was still laced with anger as they both bitched about their exes. “If Angelus did that in front of me I’d-“
“I’ll tell you what you’d bloody do! You’d kick his arse right an’ proper an’ then stake him. Serve him right, too, the tosser!”
“No, I’d tell all his demon friends what a tiny thingie he had and how the sex only lasted five minutes. Then I’d kick his ass, and THEN I’d stake him.”
Spike chuckled and lit a cigarette effortlessly. She’d untied him, thank god. “Dru’d probably cry to her dollies that dear ol’ dad was dead. And would I take her back?” he asked furiously.
“No you wouldn’t,” Buffy answered during his rant, feeling charged from venting, “because she’s a stupid ho!”
“That’s right,” he nodded his head and shifted in his seat with mirth. “Crazy bitch.”
“And hello? Crushed velvet was so five years ago.”
“Angel wears lifts. Uh…turn here, pet,” he pointed to the exit, not wanting to make that mistake again before his anger returned and he started ranting again. “And you know what? I put up with that bint for over a century. If that’s not bloody commitment, I don’ know what is.”
“Yeah! She’s an idiot, Spike. Any girl would kill to have a guy like you.”
“Thanks, Slayer,” he nodded appreciatively; glad someone finally understood his turmoil. “An’ you know what? Truth be told, she’s not that great in the sack if it’s any consolation to you.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to humor me. No man would spend a hundred plus years with a girl if she wasn’t good in bed.”
“Well…there were good times, sure…but she gets a lil’ bug shagging crazy. Claws and screechin’ an’…it’s not pleasant. Doesn’t even want a cuddle after.”
“Angel kisses like a fish,” she giggled, making sucking movements with her lips to demonstrate. “No passion at all.”
“Dru doesn’ have womanly hips.”
“Angel looks like a Neanderthal.”
Spike cracked up laughing and flicked his cigarette out the window. “He’s a wanker. Mucked up a perfectly good thing an’ I don’ believe for a second that you’re a lousy lay.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows lifted sweetly and she dared a glance at him.
“Course, pet. You’re the bloody Slayer! You're sexy as hell an’ the way you move…” he cleared his throat. “I bet he was jus’ tryin’ to mess with your head.”
“Maybe,” she chewed on her lip, desperately trying to ignore what Spike almost said. He was too, gazing out the window in mock interest. “Spike?”
“Promise me something.”
“I can try, but…evil, remember?” She was about to say something condescending to him but she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes and refrained.
She smiled for a minute and then said seriously, “When we get back to Sunnydale, promise me you won’t go back to Drusilla.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her. “Why do you care what I do?”
She sighed. “Because no one deserves to be treated that way. Even though you annoy me like no other, and you’ve tried to kill me, and you’re an evil bastard…I know you can be nice, too. But just because she’s your sire doesn’t mean you owe her any more than you’ve already given her. You’re too good for her.”
Spike was stunned speechless by her words and he stared at the dashboard. He was too good for Drusilla? Buffy, the bloody Slayer was telling him he was better than something and that he didn’t deserve to be treated like…what the hell was going on with them? “Tell you what, kitten. I’ll stay away from Dru if you stay away from Angel, should he get his soul back.”
She blinked. “But he’d be good again.”
“Are you a complete moron? I don’ care if he’s good again, doesn’ mean ‘e deserves you. Always barkin’ orders, brooding about this that or the other, never lettin’ you be your own person…not to mention he couldn’ ever shag you again. He doesn’ know how to love you proper, Buffy.”
The soft tone of his voice took her by surprise. There was no doubt of his sincerity and the more she thought about it, the more she realized he was right. Angel was a mystery to her, and because of that, her innocent mind clung to him like a fantasy. But what life could they really have together? Without sex, without mutual respect? She was still bitter towards Angelus and didn’t think those wounds would ever heal. Perhaps Spike had a point. “Ok, Spike. You’ve got a deal.”
They shook hands and smiled, relaxing in comfortable silence. For some reason, admitting that they weren’t going to be slaves to their exes anymore was incredibly liberating, as if they could finally breathe and start a new life. It was slightly awkward to come to this realization with your enemy, but that thought didn’t seem to linger for too long. Both were perfectly content with this arrangement and Spike didn’t even say a word when Buffy turned on the radio to some pop station. In fact, he tapped his fingers on his knees to the beat as they made their way down the highway.
This silent camaraderie lasted for a few hours until they crossed over into Illinois. As if waiting for them, three tall figures stood in the middle of the road blocking their path. They were so thin they were almost skeletal, their skin was a nasty shade of grey, eyes glowed green from within and razor sharp teeth that shined in the moonlight when they sneered menacingly at them. Their drab dress told of their low rank, probably minions sent out to halt their journey. Buffy slowed to a stop and turned to the vampire. He was already slipping his duster on and grabbing a sword from the weapon’s bag in the back seat.
“I guess you know what those things are?”
“Githyans. Get an axe, and keep your mind clear. Aim for the head or don’t aim at all. Got it?”
Before she could ask how the hell she was supposed to keep her mind clear, Spike jumped out of the car holding his sword high in the air.
“Here we go,” she said with a sigh and got out of the car, advancing on the three demons.
TBC: WHO ARE THE GITHYANS? Can Spike and Buffy keep a promise? Why can Slayers carry ancient weapons without being pulled over by the police? Will Spike take his shirt off again? Is Buffy going to join a nudist colony? How many showers will she take in the next chapter? Have you registered to vote? Why won't you make me a sandwich? What's a question? FIND OUT NEXT TIME.
Chapter 9 by dampersandspoons
For those of you who saw that I posted a new chapter today and were horribly confused when you saw "EPILOGUE" and even more confused when the epilogue had absolutely nothing to do with this plot, let me just say this. I SUCK AND AM A COMPLETE IDIOT. I was posting chapters on another story and accidentally added to this one. So sorry for the confusion, but here's the REAL update with the REAL story line. I'm far from done with this. No epilogue in sight for a long time!
Buffy and Spike stayed close to one another as the Githyan demons circled them, holding their weapons at the ready should they strike. Spike craned his neck back to speak to Buffy.
“Remember, pet…keep your mind clear. They have telepathy.”
“Don’t forget telekinesis,” one of the demons spoke with an arrogant tone. As if proving his point, the “Welcome to Illinois” sign lifted out of the ground and flung towards the blond duo. They ducked in the knick of time and Spike jumped towards the closest demon with a loud roar, kicking him in the knees. The demon wailed and stumbled, opening up for another attack. With a graceful twirl, Spike beheaded the demon in one stroke and turned to move towards the remaining two that were circling the Slayer.
“She’s nervous,” one Githyan said to the other. “Her life is in shambles.”
“Stop thinking of things, Slayer,” Spike warned.
“Her heart is confused,” the other demon said, feigning concern. “It will not aid her against Vinkaan.”
They were rapidly circling the pair now and Buffy concentrated on clearing her thoughts by taking a swing with her axe. She didn’t hear Spike’s warning as she swung at one demon’s midsection, slicing it open a little too easily. Green ooze spurted forth, covering the Slayer from head to toe with its nasty blood. She shouted in disgust and Spike cursed, quickly beheading the injured demon and advancing towards the third, at the same time checking the Slayer’s condition.
She wiped goo out of her eyes, groaning as it splattered on the ground and suddenly felt nauseous.
“Dammit Slayer, I said aim for the head or not at all!” He swung at the third demon and missed when it quickly ducked out of the way.
“A vampire protecting a slayer?” It laughed and swung, connecting a large fist with Spike’s jaw.
Spike quickly righted himself again and held up his sword. “Not gonna work, mate!”
“Spike,” he heard Buffy say weakly, but he couldn’t deal with that now. The two demons were at a stand off, waiting for the other to make a move.
“Your concern for her is making you clumsy,” it said with a round-house kick to Spike’s chest. “Will she feel the same concern for you when you’re dust?”
“Shut your ugly gob!” Spike quickly stood up from his fall and quickly panicked when his sword was magically lifted from his hands. The demon grabbed it and smiled a toothy grin.
“You fool!” The demon yelled as it advanced on the vampire, swinging violently at him with the stolen weapon.
Spike’s eyes were trained on the blade, timing his next move. He desperately tried to ignore the gurgling sounds of the Slayer as she fell to her knees. He’d be no good to her dead.
“Better help her, vampire. You know what Githyan blood can do to a human.”
“I said shut your gob!” Spike vamped out and roared, charging the demon with inhuman speed. He leapt onto its back, placed his hands on either side of its head and twisted it right off. Panting, he quickly made his way to the slayer who was now lying unconscious in a heap on the road.
“Buffy!” He lifted her head into his lap and slapped her cheeks. “Wake up!” With a frustrated groan, he went to the back of the SUV and opened the trunk. He emptied the cooler of his precious bags of blood and lugged it over to the slayer. He dumped the melted ice over her body, washing the Githyan blood from her skin. Then he quickly removed her clothing and shoes, checking to make sure she was clear of the substance before he wrapped her up in his duster and carried her to the car. After he’d settled her in safely in the passenger seat, he retrieved their weapons from the road and got in the driver’s side and started up the car, taking off as fast as he could down the road in search of the nearest motel.
Buffy felt cold and weak, yet comfortably tucked in a strange bed. She couldn’t open her eyes as much as she tried and she jerked when she felt a wet cloth on her cheek.
“Shh, you’re ok now, Slayer,” she heard Spike say softly.
Spike wrung out a rag into a bowl of warm water and laid it flat on her chest. “Yeah, it’s me. Can you not open your eyes?”
She shook her head slightly and swallowed. “Throat’s dry. I think I swallowed that junk.”
“That explains a few things,” he said. She felt Spike’s hand move behind her head and tilt it forward a bit. “Drink.”
Without questioning the contents or the enemy giving her a beverage, she gladly accepted his offering and was pleased to find ice cold water running down the back of her throat. “Thanks.” She shivered a bit and her teeth chattered together. “What happened?”
Spike pulled a blanket up and around her shoulders and tucked her in to keep warm. “You got slimed, I killed the demons an’ then brought us to the nearest motel.”
“Dammit, that’s more time we’re losing!”
“We’d lose a lot more if you were dead.” His tone was unwavering and quiet. “Almost did lose you.”
She frowned slightly and cursed inwardly as she again failed to open her eyes. They must have been swollen shut from the blood that sprayed her in the face. She shuddered to think what the rest of her must look like. “How…”
Spike sighed and sat down on the bed beside her, procuring another rag and wiping her brow with it. “Githyan blood is nasty business. ‘f I hadn’t washed if off of you in time you’d be dead. You still had a bit of poison in your blood stream, though, so I had to do what I could to save you.”
Buffy’s breathing increased as she took in his meaning. “You…drank from me?”
“I’m not gonna let you die, Slayer. Not like that, anyway.”
Truth be told, Spike went into a state of panic once they arrived at the motel. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, her skin had turned a sickly pale shade of blue and her heart was struggling to function. The thought that this warrior might die so carelessly disturbed the vampire more than he was willing to admit. He easily could have drained her dry and left, but something kept him from the final blow. Something had happened between them and until he was able to figure out what that was exactly, he wasn’t going to let her die. She’d come to mean something, however small, and Spike was honorable when it came to those he cared for. Why he cared for her, he hadn’t decided. Acting on instinct, he’d taken a small pull of blood from her wrist and grimaced. Her blood was poisoned and the only thing he could do was to siphon it out of her and spit it into a bowl. No way was he consuming that tripe in case it managed to infect him as well.
“You care about me?” she said weakly.
Spike’s eyes widened as he looked at her in shock. “What?”
“You just said that I mean something to you, that you care about me. Is that true?”
“Oh, balls,” Spike sighed and stood up, trying to place distance between his brain and the Slayer. “Nice. Real nice!”
“You’re bloody telepathic, that’s what! Guess that’s the fun consolation prize for surviving Githyan blood!”
Buffy smiled and giggled quietly.
“What are you on about?”
“You think I’m pretty.”
“I do not,” Spike growled.
“Yes you do. You think I have pretty hair and,” she paused as she concentrated on his thoughts, “and oh my god Spike, that’s disgusting!”
“Quit getting into my head, Slayer!” He started to pace in frustration. Trying to reel in his thoughts and guard them from the Slayer was only creating more thoughts. This was definitely not good. No one could possibly enjoy that, and since he was in quite a precarious position, being a vampire shacked up with a Slayer, who might be weakened at the moment, there was a world of bad on the horizon if he didn’t get it in check.
If Buffy’s eyes could open, they’d be wide in shock. The onslaught of Spike’s innermost thoughts bombarded her own. Some of them made her feel a little weak in the knees and she was undoubtedly surprised with how many of them revolved around her, the way she looked in his eyes, how much he wanted her, his inner struggle with dealing with his emotions, and an alarming amount of naked images of Drusilla.
Spike tried to focus on his sire in order to sway his mind in a direction that wouldn’t tempt her to concentrate on his thoughts. He focused on one image, an image he’d conjured up numerous times when he was by himself. The one time Drusilla gave him a blow job and actually enjoyed it.
“Serves you right! Now quit lookin’ into my head!” Seeing that his efforts were futile, he snatched his duster up and slid it on. He needed to get the hell out of there before she saw something telling about his budding feelings for the Slayer. As he stomped to the doorway, he halted as her fearful voice spoke out to him.
“Spike, please don’t leave me like this! I can’t see!”
His shoulders sagged in defeat and he sighed, daring a glance at her. Her skin was looking a bit better, but her poor eyes were still swollen shut. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and as he concentrated on her heart beat, he noticed it wasn’t much better than before. “All right, Buffy. I’ll stay.” He sat down beside her again and brushed her sweat slicked hair out of her face. “No more mind reading though, ok?”
She nodded sweetly. “I’ll try.”
“You should get some rest, pet. I had to take a lot of blood an’ I’m not sure how long it will take you to heal. We’ve got a lot of road still an’ as soon as you feel good enough to go, I’ll drive us.”
“Ok.” She took a deep breath and tried to relax, but the air stung her weakened lungs and she started coughing.
“Easy, kitten,” he said soothingly, lifting her body forward to rub her back as she coughed. He held a rag at her mouth to catch the phlegm and gingerly wiped her face clean before settling her back gently on the pillows. This was no large feat for him. All he had to do was channel his inner Victorian and he was no less than a nursemaid. After all the times he’d taken care of his mother when she fell ill with consumption, he’d become a natural at caring for others. It came in handy when Dru was ill and now…he was tending to the Slayer without a second thought. “Better?”
“Yeah,” she said weakly, embarrassed with the gross fluids she’d just coughed up. “I must look disgusting.”
“Nah,” he said with a grin. “I like a girl with a smoker’s cough. It’s sexy.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” she said clutching her chest as she giggled. “I’ll start coughing again.”
“Sorry, pet.” He pulled the blankets up under her chin again and smoothed the fabric down. He tenderly stroked her cheek, still worried about her condition as he said, “Sweet dreams, Buffy.”
She smiled and nuzzled into her pillow. She felt the mattress shift as he stood up and as much as she tried not to, Spike’s thoughts continued to filter through her mind. He was worried about her and if a vampire, her enemy was worried, then she was definitely worried. “I’ll be ok, Spike.” She didn’t know if she would, but there was no way she’d get any sleep if he kept worrying about her.
“I hope so,” he tried to say in a positive tone, but she knew better.
She reached out to find his hand and once she’d made contact, she squeezed it weakly. “Thank you for saving my life.”
He smiled softly as he reached for a cigarette, releasing his hand from hers awkwardly. He wasn’t prepared for her kindness yet. “No problem, Slayer. ‘S no fun travelin’ by yourself.” He slipped the cigarette behind his ear as he made his way to the door.
With a sweet smile, Buffy finally fell asleep and Spike went outside to smoke, staying near enough to still be able to hear her heart beat should there be any complications. Once she’d fallen asleep and her heart beat evened out, he grabbed the car keys and some cash, locked the motel door and went out into the night.
Buffy was roused from sleep by the sound of an angry Brit’s whispered shouting. She tried to open her eyes and to her delight, she was able to pry them open a fraction of an inch, though her vision was hazy. She saw Spike sitting on the edge of the bed. His pale skin and white hair seemed to glow through her haze and his bare back was full of tension as he shouted into the receiver of the phone.
“What kind of a watcher doesn’ prepare his slayer before she fights a particularly noxious demon? She almost died,” he shouted, though his tone was low, trying not to wake her. “Well, that’s your problem, in’it? I expect you to have an answer for me by the end of the day.” He flicked his Zippo open and shut repeatedly as his growing frustration with the watcher came out in short spurts of annoyed fidgeting. “Yeah, well, I didn’ kill ‘er, did I? Look, Ripper,” he sneered, “I get that you’re concerned an’ all, but we made a truce. ‘m not goin’ to kill ‘er an’ if I was I would’ve done it already.”
Buffy tried to sit up in bed and held the sheets against her bare breasts. The fact that she was naked hadn’t registered yet. Her focus was on the vampire who was currently giving her watcher the what-for.
“Can we finish this lovely chat? If she wakes up because of you…” Spike closed his eyes as Rupert continued to rant at him. “Call me as soon as you find out anythin’. I’m hanging up now. No, I’m hanging up the bloody phone!” Spike looked behind him at Buffy and sighed. “Now you’ve done it, she’s awake you git! I’m hanging up now. Bye.” Spike hung up the phone and turned around to face the slayer with an apologetic expression.
She tilted her head in anticipation, waiting for him to relay the message but Spike only stared at her. Her skin was still pale but void of the bluish hue, but that wasn’t what he was focusing on. Her blond locks were tousled and hanging about her bare shoulders and her dainty hand clutched a white sheet against her chest. She looked absolutely gorgeous, pure and sweet like words of poetry which were currently taking shape in his mind.
Buffy blushed and ducked her head.
“Oh, come on, really?” He said with frustration, knowing that she’d read his mind again. “This magic trick of yours is right irritatin’.”
“Sorry,” she smiled, though she’d yet to look him in the eyes. “What did Giles say?”
Spike crawled up the side of the bed and plopped down next to her on his side and dragged a hand down his face. He looked exhausted but before Buffy could comment, he replied, “He an’ the scoobs are doin’ some research about your little incident. Turns out, there’s only been one record of a victim having received telepathy. You’re one of few to survive.”
“Thanks to you,” she said quietly and rolled on her side to face him. Spike looked bashful and she almost swooned with the adorableness of his expression. “What time is it?”
“It’s about 3pm.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping? You look tired.”
He rolled onto his back and yawned. “Yeah, but…wanted to make sure you were all right. How are you feeling?”
Buffy picked at a non existent thread on her pillow as she chewed her lip. “I’m still pretty weak, but hey! I can open my eyes. That’s a good start, right?”
“Good.” He yawned again and Buffy’s eyes zeroed in on his chest as it arched and tensed with the movement. “Oh, balls, almost forgot something.” He rolled off the bed and walked to the corner of the room, procuring a few grocery sacks. He lay back down on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he showed her his bounty. “Soup,” he said as he pulled out a few cans, “didn’ know what you liked so I got a few. Chicken Noodle, tomato basil an’ some country stew thing.”
“Mmm, soupy,” she smiled.
“I figured you should try somethin’ light until you’re all healed. An’ then I got some crackers, oh, an’ then this thing.” He casually tossed a small stuffed white kitten with green eyes at her, skimming over the fact that he couldn’t resist thinking of her when he saw it and bought it like a git and continued displaying his purchases. “Some Twizzlers…you like those, right?”
“Yeah,” she smiled, holding the stuffed animal against her cheek and suppressing tears of gratitude for how thoughtful he was.
“Thought so. You got them every time we stopped at a gas station. Oh, an’ there’s ice cream in the freezer over there.”
Her eyes lit up. “Chocolate chip?”
“Of course,” he smiled and put the items back in the bag. “You want me to heat up some soup for you? Think you can eat anything?”
She nodded, rubbing the soft ears of the kitten against her lips. “Tomato basil, please.”
“You got it.”
She watched him move about the room and sighed. He was being so genuinely sweet to her that she couldn’t help but smile and as she focused on his thoughts, she almost cried when he handed her the stuffed toy. The fact that he’d paid such close attention to her little quirks and remembered her guilty pleasures didn’t go unnoticed at all. She giggled at the thought of this master vampire in a grocery store mulling over whether or not he should purchase a stuffed kitty for her. Spike was just full of surprises and couldn’t believe what a softie he was beneath the snark and violence. It was quite an attractive combination.
“There you go, Slayer,” he handed her a bowl and a few crackers which he’d neatly wrapped in a napkin. “Eat up, get your strength back.” He lay down next to her again, watching her silently as she sat up and tucked the sheet beneath her arms and started to eat.
“This good,” she said with a mouthful and smiled as she wiped her chin.
“Careful,” he chuckled, “that goes in your mouth not on your face, kitten.”
Spike was really struggling not to think about how adorable she was, but it was futile. Luckily she was distracted with her soup and hadn’t noticed or if she did, she was wise not to say anything about it. He handed her a glass of water when she swallowed the last bite and she took it gratefully, at the same time he set her empty bowl on the bedside table next to him. “All better?”
“Yup,” she nodded and settled back onto the pillows facing him. They lay quietly for a moment, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Spike’s eyes slowly fell shut as his exhaustion caught up to him. He felt Buffy pull the sheets up and over him and he smiled. The expression was cut short, however, when he felt warm, soft lips press against his. It was over as quickly as it started and he looked at her in bewilderment. She smiled shyly and pulled the sheet and the stuffed kitten up under her chin. “Get some sleep,” she whispered.
He nodded dumbly and swallowed, fighting the urge to touch his tingling lips with his fingers. She’d kissed him, and while it was nothing more than a peck, it warmed him from his lips to his toes. “All right.”
“Because when you wake up,” she said casually as she closed her eyes, “you’re going to have to help me in the bath.”
Spike’s nostrils flared and a coy smile lifted the corner of his mouth. The mere idea of getting to carry her naked body to the bathroom and soap and lather her golden skin up was a blissful one indeed. Maybe she’d let him get her nice and sparkling clean. He supposed he owed her one.
“I heard that,” she said smiling, never opening her eyes.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned and turned on his side, cursing his stupid brain and her stupid telepathy as he willed himself to sleep.
Chapter 10 by dampersandspoons
She’d been watching him for almost an hour now. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, almost angelic. It was ironic knowing the damage this vampire was capable of but the more Buffy watched him, the more convinced she was that ‘angelic’ was the only way to describe him. She was feeling much better, though as she tried to get out of bed she realized her muscles felt atrophied, weakened from lack of blood and poisoning. So she was content to stay in place until Spike woke up, not wanting to wake him as his need for rest was almost as crucial as hers. After all, how often did a seventeen year old girl get to stare at someone this hot without interruption? And she decided that he was, most definitely hot.
Sure, she’d been attracted to him before and the way he kissed lit a fire between her legs but now, looking at him in this way, laying on his side, lips slightly parted, hair mussed and disheveled from worry, the corded muscles of his chest and shoulders peeking out of the sheets was enough to make any girl swoon. He was confusing the crap out of her, that’s for sure. The ability to tap into his thoughts was useful, though. There lied the real enigma of Spike. She’d seen flashes of violence, horrible bloody things that he didn’t regret and yet above all of that was a need to be loved and accepted. There was an inner battle with his thoughts. He constantly second guessed himself, his actions, as if he were always preparing for rejection. But what he thought about her, about Buffy, shocked her to her very core. All the dirty, nasty, suggestive comments he’d said to her seemed like a farce once she’d seen how he truly looked at her. And the truth was, Spike thought she was beautiful. He had images of her eyes tucked neatly away, memories of her smile, a flash of a bare knee, her long fingers, things a man thought about when he missed his girl. And seeing herself through Spike’s eyes just about stole her breath away.
It was obvious that he was resisting his emotional attachment to her, and in that way she fully related to him because Buffy couldn’t deny that something was happening between them and didn’t know what to make of it. He’d infuriated her, hurt her, made her want to stake him…and yet, he’d also done so many wonderful things. He made her feel like a woman, desirable, made her laugh, challenged her…and he’d saved her life. He was so different than Angel and she didn’t think it was even fair to compare the two because they were both unique in their own way.
Buffy reached her hand out and gently ran her fingers through his hair. It was so soft that she couldn’t resist playing with it. Spike made a low yummy grumbling noise in the back of his throat and his hand shot out to grab her at the waist. Before she could object she was completely wrapped in his arms and he was nuzzling the tip of his nose in her hair near the crook of her neck. The sensation of this made her gasp as she took into account two very crucial things:
1. Spike smelled really, really good.
2. She was completely naked.
She focused a bit more on number 2, especially since the feel of his bare chest against her naked skin felt wonderful and this was not a position she should be in. But it was really hard to pull away when his fingers were tenderly stroking her spine and his other hand lovingly caressed her ass…capped off with the tickling feel of his breath and nose on her neck. She bit her lip as she decided what to do. He really had a good grip on her now and she was too weak to shove him off, and she didn’t really want to be cruel because hey, different circumstances? She’d be all for the naked cuddling. She wouldn’t have to debate much longer, which was a good thing because as Spike’s mouth opened, breathing out the sweetest sound in the world which just happened to be her name atop a whisper, the phone rang.
Spike sat up straight and rubbed his eyes for a moment as his body woke up and Buffy took that moment to tuck herself beneath the sheets and pretend nothing had happened. He reached for the phone and answered it sleepily.
Buffy resisted touching his back, tempting as it was as he sat on the side of the bed. She wondered what that back looked like when he was making love. She imagined it would be a thing of beauty. It probably rolled seductively like a cat’s with every slow thrust of his hips. Maybe it tensed up at the final moment, rippling with—
“Lord, woman…’ve been talkin’ to you this whole time! Rupes is on the phone for you.”
“Oh,” she laughed nervously, “Sorry.”
Spike handed her the phone and settled back into bed, barely keeping his eyes open as he listened to their conversation. His skin was tingling, humming really, and he had the foggiest memory of naked Slayer flesh pressed against him but settled with the thought that it was just a damn good dream. Buffy’s words seemed to blend together incoherently as she lifted a slender leg out from behind the sheets and propped it up on one flat foot. Was she trying to torture him with those things? So she had an itch on her thigh which she was currently scratching. Did it mean she had to take it out of the safe cover of the sheet to do it?
He licked his lips and rolled on his side, tucking his hands between his knees to keep from groping her. Her skin was golden again, and that was a good sign. Oh, he hoped she was too weak to take a bath, though. He was looking forward to that. Buffy and Bubbles was a winning combo in his opinion and he’d already seen it once before when she gloriously kicked his stunned ass across the room. If she’d dusted him in that instant, he would have died a very happy vamp. Spike buried his mouth in his pillow and bit down. She was stretching, the sheet teasing him like a bastard as it almost slipped too low, exposing the nipples which he could tell were very much erect. This was worse than Chinese torture, he decided, and jumped out of bed to fetch his cigarettes, carefully keeping his back to her so she wouldn’t suss out the painful bulge in his jeans that he’d suspiciously woken up with. It was nightfall, safe to go outside and he took that opportunity to stand just on the other side of the door and have himself one hell of a frustrating smoke. He finished it too quickly and flicked it into the night air as he walked back into the hotel room. He rushed over to the bed just as Buffy was trying to get out of it and failing miserably.
“Whoah, pet,” he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. “Still a bit wobbly?”
“Yeah,” she pouted, frustrated that her body wouldn’t cooperate with even the simplest of movements. But she really, really had to pee and didn’t know how long Spike would be outside.
If she said something else, he didn’t hear it. That bottom lip of hers was calling to him like Sirens from The Odyssey. “Huh?”
Buffy smiled, knowing exactly what he was thinking about. “I said I have to go to the bathroom. Can you help me? I mean, not with the going to the bathroom part because ew, but just getting me in there?”
“Oh, right. Sure.” He was gentlemanly enough to pick her up, sheets and all, but that didn’t stop his hands from wandering beneath them as he gripped her back, just to feel her soft skin as he carried her to the bathroom. “So, I’ll just um…I’ll wait outside then.”
“Ok,” she smiled as he set her down on the toilet and she bunched the sheets at her chest, being careful not to let them touch the dirty floor. “Oh! Spike?”
He poked his head back in the bathroom. “Yeah?”
“Um…when I’m done, do you think you can help me into the bathtub?” So she was totally flirting with him and maybe she could have made it on her own, but she was really getting into this whole damsel in distress thing and if he was willing? And hot? Then who was she to turn down something so fantastic?
“S-sure,” he stuttered. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready for me.”
She bit her lip and smiled at him. “Ok.”
He closed the door and covered his mouth with his hand, wide eyed, wondering what the hell was going on. She was obviously flirting with him, but he had to be extremely careful how he played this out. He dragged his hand down his chin and waited impatiently for her to knock. Unbeknownst to him, Buffy was biting her fist to ward off a case of the giggles as she tapped into every thought swimming in his mind. He was nervous, and perhaps she could play on that to her benefit. He’d been such a tease to her that first night in the hotel and she was anxious to return the favor. She flushed the toilet and knocked on the door. “I’m ready for you,” she said sweetly.
The door swung open and Spike sauntered to the bathtub, getting the water ready for her. He already had her bath products in his hands, wasting no time at all. As the water filled up in the tub, he placed his hands on his hips and tapped his fingers on his waist, looking from Buffy’s feet to the water and back again, wishing he could will it to fill faster. “You like it hot, pet? Warm? What’s your flavor?”
“Hot,” she said silkily, staring at him with confidence.
He cleared his throat. “Hot it is, then.” He checked the temperature to make sure it was all set and turned the water off.
She was chewing on the tip of her thumb, looking up at him through her dark eyelashes and in the next instant she bunched up the sheet and handed it to him, exposing every delectable inch of her naked body. “I don’t want these to get all gross. Can you take them to the bed?”
Well, fuck. Spike forgot how to speak! He could nod though, that much he was capable of. He took the sheet from her hand and dazedly walked to the bed, dropping the sheet on it, and then hustled his ass back to the bathroom. She shyly covered her breasts and raised her closed knees slightly to hide herself. “Can you help me into the water now?”
Another slow nod of his head and Spike gingerly lifted her up and walked her to the tub, lowering her gently inside. She hummed and closed her eyes as she settled into the bubbly water and Spike blinked slowly. Something snapped, however, and he shook his head, forcing his big bad back to the surface. She was just a seventeen year old and he was a bloody vampire not some virginal teenager who’d never had a good spot of puss before. And…he remembered that she could read his mind. Shit.
“Don’t worry,” she said softly, lifting one soapy leg out of the water and started shaving it. “I don’t hold it against you.”
Spike tilted his head and smiled at her. “You don’t, huh?”
She shook her head and grinned, knowing that his eyes were trained on the slow glide of the razor up her silky calves. “Sit down. Come talk to me.”
“Don’t think that’s such a good idea, kitten,” he said even as he sat down on the closed toilet seat next to the tub.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re all…soapy an’ naked. An’ perfectly delicious,” he said huskily, eyes traveling along the skin that taunted him above the waterline.
She gasped playfully. “Why Spike, you wouldn’t take advantage of me in this state, would you?”
“I might,” he said honestly, rubbing a hand on his chest as he grinned mischievously.
“Then I guess you better leave,” she pouted.
“Guess I better,” he said unmoving. “Need help?”
She giggled and rinsed off her freshly shaved leg. “No, I think I have it covered.”
“I don’t know,” he said with a tilt of his head, “looks like you missed a few spots. Better let me at ‘em.”
“You will hack me to bits.”
“I will not! Know how to use a bloody razor. Come on, let me do it.”
Buffy narrowed her eyes and bit the corner of her lip. God, she wanted his hands on her. “Ok. But if you nick me, I’m kicking you out.”
Spike smiled boyishly and snatched the razor and sat on the side of the tub facing her. His hand dipped beneath the water and he gently rubbed her thigh, looking at her with heavy lidded eyes. His hand trailed down to her knee and he lifted it out of the water, placing her foot in his lap, uncaring that she was drenching his jeans with soapy water. He tried to keep his mind clear as he did this but knew she’d get a peek eventually. He took a bar of soap in his hands, lathered it up and began massaging the soap onto her calves. Buffy sighed and sank lower into the water. His hands were amazing and now they were on her thigh, slowly caressing upwards until the tips of his fingers teased her folds before retreating downward again. She gasped from the amazing sensation just that little bit caused and Spike chuckled seductively, biting his lip and he did it once more.
“Spike!” Her leg jerked out of his lap even though she was burning from her core to her toes.
“Oops,” he said without any conviction and set about shaving her calf. Every swipe of the razor was slow and deliberate, but his eyes weren’t focused on that. They were trained to the two rosy peaks of her breasts peeking out of the bubbles, silently asking him for a taste. “What did the watcher say,” he asked, desperate for a distraction before he jumped into the tub with her.
“Oh yeah. Good news. My telepathy isn’t permanent.”
“Thank God,” he said as he lowered her foot into the tub when he finished shaving her. “How much longer will it last?”
She handed him a shampoo bottle and he laughed softly, squeezing some into his palms. “He said just a few days but that I should be careful around crowds. It could give me headaches with all the thoughts bumping around in my head.”
Spike started massaging her scalp, reveling in this moment. “You’re awfully comfortable around me, pet.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not every day a girl gets a hot vampire to wash her hair.”
He smiled coyly and leaned her head back into the water to rinse out the shampoo. “Not every day a vampire has a weak Slayer to take care of.” A bottle of conditioner magically appeared in his hands. “Bossy bint.”
“I know you’re enjoying this so don’t even try to act put out.”
“Oh, I don’t think you want to know how much I’m enjoyin’ this, luv.”
She placed her pointer fingers on her temples and looked at him intently. “I can find out really easily.”
“Stop with the mind reading! It’s really sucking the fun out of the whole ‘getting to know you’ part of this trip.”
She giggled. “Sorry. Oh, that feels nice,” she hummed as he massaged the last bits of conditioner in her hair.
“You better stop with that, pet. I might be forced to jump into that bathtub with you.”
She ignored his threat. “Ask me anything. It’s only fair since I can see everything in that head of yours.”
“Sure, why not?”
Spike sat back on the toilet seat as she waited for the conditioner to set in her hair and grinned. “Think I’ll wait to cash in on that one at a later time.”
She leaned back into the tub and rinsed her hair and then reached for a towel. “Would you mind turning around while a girl dries herself off?”
“You don’t need help standing?”
She bit her lip. “I can stand I think. You may still have to help me walk to the bed, though.”
His cheeks were hurting from all this bloody grinning. “All right. I’ll turn around…even though I’ve seen it all.”
She rolled her eyes as he turned around and slowly stood up, drying herself as best she could and then wrapped the towel around her. “Ok, all done!”
When he turned around and saw her standing in the tub, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders and that impish grin on her face, he’d had quite enough of this shameless flirting.
Temptation was a funny thing.
It was the sort of thing that carried you across a bathroom, wrapped your arms around a towel covered slayer and pressed your lips against hers. It was the kind of thing that forced a man to lift a girl out of a tub and carry her into the bedroom, make you moan against her mouth when her tongue traced your lips; the very thing that drove a vampire like Spike to do all of these things.
Buffy’s will was slipping away with every slow glide of his lips against hers, with every desperate moan that tore from his throat, banished completely when her legs wrapped around his slim waist and she allowed him to carry her to the bed. Her towel was a forgotten memory on the floor and she sighed blissfully when his body pressed against hers.
“Buffy, please say you want this,” he asked her urgently as his hands trailed up her thighs and his lips sucked her neck.
“Yes,” she moaned.
He growled seductively as his erection pressed into her sex and his hands came up to cup her breasts. Her soft lips were driving him crazy as she innocently kissed his neck and shoulders, casting hot puffs of air onto his skin with her quiet mewling. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this until he was in the thick of it, on top of her on the bed, grinding his pelvis slowly against her and rolling his thumbs over her pert nipples. Spike dove for her mouth again, his tongue seeking hers out with lazy, passionate strokes and he smiled against her lips when her tiny hands scaled his back and landed on his ass.
He moved lower, aching to have a nipple in his mouth and was pleased when she arched into him, gasping and gripping his head to stay in place. Spike’s left hand wasted no time and found her soaking core, stroking her attentively, spreading her open, seeking out more and more of her, making it beg him to quit teasing. But he hadn’t finished with her and her nipples were awfully distracting, so rosy and bitable and as his teeth grazed along one nub, his finger pressed and pulled on her clit and Buffy moaned her approval, urging him on.
“Do you taste as good as you feel, Buffy?” He asked her, staring up at her as his mouth descended down her stomach, planting wet open mouth kisses along the way.
“Oh god,” she moaned, her arms rising up to rest above her head. She’d always dreamed about a man doing this and now Spike was more than willing to fulfill her fantasy. Her eyes screwed shut when she felt his cool breath between her legs and his fingers dancing along her folds, spreading her open. He waited a bit to take his time to admire her, unaware that he was slowly driving Buffy crazy.
“So pretty,” he mumbled against her inner thigh before he planted a kiss there. His long pointed tongue barely flicked between her folds and Buffy squealed. She felt his soft chuckling against her and he did it again and again, teasing her painfully. When she was sure he had one more in him, he surprised her by enveloping her clit with his lips and sucking it into his mouth.
“Oh! My God!”
There was a finger at her entrance, she could feel it sneaking its way around it but she was distracted by his sinful tongue, caressing her slit and flicking the tiny bundle of nerves above it. She knew she was rambling incoherently, knew she’d said his name a few times but she didn’t care. All she needed was for him to keep doing what he was doing…oh so well. She heard his praises muttered against her, driving her need higher and higher and finally he pushed a long finger inside her and purred…right on her most sensitive spot.
At that very moment, Buffy came to the startling realization that A) she could make noises that she never knew she was capable of and B) Spike was a GOD. Her legs fell limp at her sides as he worshipped her with his mouth and tongue, her throat was dry from the icy hot and ragged breaths she had to take as her climax built. And then he nibbled, sucked and fucked her with his finger, adding another and hissing at her tightness.
“Oh my god, Buffy…never knew…fuck you’re sweet,” he said as his fingers took over so he could admire her face. They locked eyes and Buffy gasped wantonly as his mind bombarded her with emotion. He loved this as much as she did, desperate for her release and yet afraid it would end too soon. She gently touched his cheek and smiled, throwing her head back with a shout as his mouth descended upon her again.
“Spike,” she moaned huskily, and Spike doubled his efforts. She was so close he could taste it, feel it as she pulsed around his talented fingers, heard it as the pitch of her gasps went higher and higher and just as she was reaching the edge, the door to the motel room crashed open and four very pissed off Githyans came storming towards the bed.
Buffy shrieked and Spike roared as he jumped off of her and went into game face. To say he was pissed was an understatement and he was successfully distracted when he heard her scream. As he searched the room for her, a large fist swung and knocked him square in the jaw hurling him backwards. It wasn’t enough to knock him out though and he quickly leapt to his feet and steadied his gaze on the most dangerous opponent. But Buffy was weak, couldn’t fight for herself and she screamed again, the sound cut off and muffled by a large grey hand. Spike jumped up on the bed trying to avoid the two demons charging him and to get to the Slayer who was being dragged naked out of the hotel room. Before he could get to her, he was snapped backwards by the hair and pulled into the room.
He didn’t have any weapons near and was seriously screwed but the demon didn’t care as he growled and attacked the two Githyans blocking the door.
After he landed a few successful punches, the two demons silently looked at one another and fled. Spike bolted after them barefooted and wearing only a pair of jeans, screaming an assortment of obscenities as they piled into a van and drove off. With Buffy.
Spike roared in frustration and he ran back to the hotel room, grabbed everything they had and with inhuman speed, he loaded the SUV and took off down the road the demons had turned onto, desperately hoping that he’d catch up with them. He rolled the window down to see if he could track her scent, and, knowing that he was on the right trail he slightly relaxed long enough to slam his fist on the dash and scream.
“I’ll rip every one of your bloody throats out if you touch her!” His bare foot pressed the gas down all the way when he saw red tail lights up ahead. His iron grip on the steering wheel almost broke it in half and it tightened even more as the scent of her arousal still clung to his mouth. He would catch up with them, and when he did, Spike was going to have himself a serious amount of violence. Not one of them would be safe against a pissed off master vamp with a bag full of shiny weapons.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
TBC! WILL THERE BE ANY MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES? FIND OUT NEXT TIME.
Chapter 11 by dampersandspoons
DID I PISS YOU OFF LAST CHAPTER? WILL SPIKE GET HIS REVENGE? WILL BUFFY EVER REACH ORGASM? ARE GITHYANS CRUEL BASTARDS? FIND OUT THE ANSWERS TO SOME OF THESE QUESTIONS!
Spike saw the van up ahead and he was gaining on them. He’d vamped out when pure unadulterated rage took over. These bastards had taken his slayer, his girl, and yes, he decided that she was his girl, and were doing god knows what to her. The one hope he clung to was that Githyans, by nature, weren’t offensive demons. They certainly could be when it came down to it, but they were happier playing mind games and leaving the violence up to lesser demons. But it didn’t mean Buffy was safe by any means. After the three they encountered at the Illinois border, he wasn’t so sure they weren’t harming her, and she would be too weak to defend herself against their razor sharp teeth or their own blood. But it did no good to dwell on that now, because he was less than a car length away from them and getting closer.
They were heading towards a cave, a favorite hiding place for these foul creatures, and once they’d driven through the mouth, Spike sharply turned his wheel to the side and slammed on the brakes. It would be faster and easier to go in on foot than to have to back an SUV out of a cave when he made his escape with the Slayer, and he knew he’d be successful. He was that bloodthirsty and pissed off to feel overconfident.
Leaving the car running, he twisted his body towards the back seat and reached into the weapons bag, arming up for the brawl. There was no time for him to put on shoes, but his duster wasn’t to be left behind. Strapped in leather, an axe with a three foot hilt, a sword strapped to his back, a few daggers in his pockets and his fangs, he was ready. Quietly creeping into the mouth with his back to the wall, he sniffed the air. They weren’t far. He prayed the darkness gave him plenty of cover to sneak in, but he knew they’d be expecting him so he remained alert, twirling the double-headed axe in front of him and crept further inside. He moved like a predator, silent and deadly and he sneered when he heard her weak moan as they lugged her out of the van.
At least she was alive, he told himself, but they’d done something to her and it only fueled his anger. He saw six of them, the four that came to the hotel and a two others, a driver and a watchman he supposed and another was walking towards them wearing an expensive looking red robe and holding a pair of shackles. Seven total. Shit. Clearing his mind, he walked closer, well hidden by the shadows. Once Buffy was laid on the ground and presumably safe for the time being, Spike whipped out a dagger and hurled it with a marksman’s precision and it landed in the throat of one demon. He gurgled as blood spewed from his neck and in no time he’d fallen to the ground. The rest of the demons turned in his direction, snarling. They advanced on him, which was exactly his plan, trying to drive them away from Buffy towards the cave opening where he had a bit more room to fight.
But Githyans moved fast and soon he was surrounded. No matter, Spike was ready.
He focused on the word, “Kill”, repeating it in his head like a mantra and letting his demon take over. It wouldn’t help him if his human side started thinking about the Slayer’s safety, allowing them to use it against him in the fight. Maybe it would even intimidate them. He smiled around his fangs when the Githyans looked at one another with a slight twinge of fear.
“Come on, you pillocks,” he shouted as one Githyan charged towards him. Spike swung his axe, successfully beheading it with a loud roar. The arc of his swing ended on the neck of the robed Githyan. It didn’t quite dismember him and Spike snarled with an evil grin, looking him dead in the eyes, reared back and swung again. “Three down, you bastards!”
The four remaining Githyans shrieked simultaneously as their green shimmering eyes pointed to the sky, a war cry for their fallen companions. It was so shrill and high pitched that the vampire had to cover his ears. But it wouldn’t distract him long, and he could care less that he’d apparently killed a general. Better, even that he did. Charged with buoyancy and excitement, the vampire started to attack. His leather duster flapped in the air as he jumped and spun, kicking two to the ground and landing between them, hacking one head off with his axe, twirling his sword as he pulled it from his back and sliced off another. As he turned around and wiped his cheek off with the back of his hand, he growled as one Githyan snuck away towards the slayer.
Leaning forward at the waist, he bolted after him, scaled the side of the cave wall in a running jump and used the force behind his feet to hurl him forward onto its back. They rolled, fighting for dominance. It had Spike pinned for a moment, its razor sharp teeth inches from his face. He tucked his knees between them and pushed, flipping the Githyan over on his side. He grabbed its arm and wrapped his legs around it in a hold, and twisted until it broke. He wanted to do more, wanted to make each and every one of them suffer, but he was wasting time. Still, it sated his demon to hear the bastard screaming in pain. Leaping to his feet, he slammed his axe down and kicked the dismembered head away. Buffy looked at him with weary eyes. He removed his duster and covered her naked body with it and he winked at her as he slowly turned to face his final foe.
He dropped his axe and brandished his sword, taking slow steps towards him and cracking his neck. The Githyan stiffened as the vampire came closer, but he stood his ground. Spike waggled his eyebrows and smirked at it. That smirk was a lot more deadly when coupled with amber eyes and a set of fangs.
“What were you doin’ with my Slayer, mate?”
“She was thirsty,” it said with a confidence that did not please the vampire. “So we gave her something to drink.”
Spike swung and missed as the Githyan ducked out of the way. He shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have opened his mind. He grunted in frustration and tried to clear his head, but he had to know. “Thirsty for what?”
The Githyan smiled. “She won’t have much longer,” he said.
“Neither will you!” Spike roared and ran after the retreating Githyan with break neck speed and once he was close enough, he grabbed it by the few stringy black hairs that grew on its head and pulled. The Githyan yelped and fell on its back, his green eyes shining wide as a very pissed off vampire swung at him with a sword. Panting and resting his hands on his knees, Spike took a moment to collect himself and let his human form return before he dashed back into the cave to fetch the slayer. She was smiling at him, however weakly, but smiling nonetheless.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey yourself. Are you ok?”
She shook her head. “Gave me something…hurts.”
He knelt down in front of her and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I got you now. Just hang tight a second, ok?”
She nodded and watched as he opened the sliding door of the van, searching for clues as to what they’d forced her to ingest. He found a small glass tube with a trace of liquid in it. He turned to her and held it up for her to see. “Was this what they gave you?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice was much weaker. “Spike?”
“You look really hot right now.”
He smiled at her and looked down at himself. Black jeans dirty from the tussling, barefoot, a leather strap across his bare chest and a dagger sticking out of the waist band of his jeans. He shrugged his shoulders and almost blushed as Buffy bit her lip. But she was weak, and he had no idea what she’d drank so there was no more time for flirting. Bugger.
He tucked the vial in his pocket and quickly scooped her leather wrapped form up after sheathing his sword to his back again and foregoing the axe. There were two more in the backseat, even though he rather liked that double headed one. He ran as fast as he could to the SUV. There was just a few hours left before sunrise, which might give him enough time to get to Chicago. There was a healer there, one he’d met when he was trying to find a cure for Dru. Perhaps with the evidence of what she’d been poisoned with they’d have better chances of saving her life.
He backed the car up and drove onto the road and grasped Buffy’s hand in his. “Stay with me, ok?”
“Ok,” she whispered, but the poison was already working its way into her system and as much as she struggled to hang on, she couldn’t. Spike’s voice echoed in her mind as her eyes closed and darkness fell.
Spike was thankful there weren’t any police officers or speed traps as he drove 90 miles an hour down the freeway. He’d made it to Chicago and Buffy was unconscious. He could still hear her heartbeat, but it was faint and fragile. She wouldn’t have much longer, but her slayer healing was keeping her abreast of death. He held her hand the entire drive, glancing over at her frequently.
He put the car in park once he’d reached his destination and hoped the old bitch inside was still there. Carrying the Slayer in his arms, he pounded on the door with his foot. “Open the bloody door!”
After a lot of scuffling and the porch light turning on, the door swung open. A heavy set woman in her late 50’s answered, wearing a bright floral zip up house coat, Lucille Ball-red hair and just as teased as the celebrity’s was, sleepy eyes and a grimace. “Oh, Jeez, you again? Did you know it’s five thirty in the morning?” she shouted in a thick east coast accent, highlighted by Yiddish curse words as she invited him in, raising her hands in the air in defeat. “My arthritis is killin’ me, the only thing I require is a good night’s sleep but oh, no…I have to help vampires and their shiksas.”
Spike stomped into the house and gently set the slayer down on a plastic-covered couch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial, handing it to the woman. She pursed her lips and put on a pair of glasses, decorated with crystal beads that hung around her neck. She took the vial from his hands. “What’s this? I’m a healer not a mind reader.”
“Githyans. She was poisoned a day or so ago by their blood and hadn’t quite healed up yet. Then, the bastards kidnapped her and made her drink that.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and her fingers pressed into her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’! Githyans? In my neighborhood? Oh, Jeez,” she shook her head and sat down next to Buffy and grasped her hand. “Oh, my…this one’s powerful.”
“She’s the Slayer.”
The woman’s head jerked towards Spike. “Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, I look awful! Marty!!” she screamed as she looked at the ceiling. “Marty, get your fat ass down here and meet the slayer!”
A muffled masculine voice answered from the stairs, “I’m sleepin’ up here, Harriet!”
She clicked her tongue. “He’s such a bastard. Always with the whining and the complaining…but if I know Marty, he’ll be so mad that he didn’t get to meet the Slayer. It’s not my problem if he can’t—”
“Slayer dying, remember?!” Spike roared, irritated with the time they were wasting. “Work your bloody mojo and fix her!”
“All right already,” she said patiently and placed one hand on Buffy’s forehead and the other on her stomach, closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, muttering words under her breath. “She’s got a chance, but I’ll need you to help me.”
“Yes, whatever,” he answered, anxious and fidgety. “Tell me what to do.”
“Go into the kitchen,” she paused when he left the living room and made his way to the kitchen. She raised her voice so he could hear, forgetting he was a vampire and probably didn’t need it. “In the cupboard by the rooster cozy is a cheese cloth bag marked with the number 6. Grab that, two eggs from the fridge, two glasses, and the box of OJ in the fridge door.”
Spike procured all the items and set them on the coffee table. “Now what?”
“Now,” she said cracking the eggs into a glass, “Go to the pantry and get the witch hazel and lavender and there’s a tiny ceramic jug next to the cereal. Grab that, too.”
When Spike returned he snorted as he saw the woman pouring orange juice in the second glass and take a sip. She shrugged her shoulders. “What? I was thirsty and you were already in there.”
Spike paced the room as she began combining the ingredients in a glass and took the remaining liquid from the vial and poured it in. “Whoah, what the bloody hell are you doin’?”
She rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses up with one bright pink acrylic fingernail. “In order to make an antidote, I need the poison. Calm down, hon. Now, would you be so kind as to lift her up so I can give it to her?”
He nodded and lifted her shoulders as the healer tilted the glass against Buffy’s lips. After a few spills down her chin and a bit down her throat, Buffy’s eyes fluttered weakly and she drank the rest of it down. “Good girl,” the healer said. “Drink up.”
“Come on, kitten,” Spike whispered next to her ear. The healer narrowed her eyes as she studied his behavior.
“I don’t believe it.”
“After all that yelling and screaming at me to fix that crazy broad of yours last year…and now you’re in love with a Slayer!”
“No,” he laughed nervously, “I’m not in love with her. Just…like ‘er a lot, that’s all.”
“This is just like that Barbara Streisand movie where she and Robert Redford fall in love even though their political views are complete opposites. You know, she was involved in grassroots operations and he was a writer, but Hollywood gets the better of him and—“
“Please, just…please stop.”
“Well, it’s a beautiful story. I don’t understand why you’re upset.”
“How long until the antidote kicks in?”
“Maybe an hour, two tops.”
“We need a place to stay,” he said humbly and sat down for the first time. “Don’t suppose you’d let a vamp sleep here until nightfall, would you?”
She waved her hands in the air and stood up, collecting the items from the coffee table. “Stay as long as you like. It’s not everyday I get to help a Slayer. I’ll just go fetch her some clothes and you two get comfy on the sofas.”
He nodded curtly though his eyes were trained on the sleeping slayer. He quietly lifted her as he lay down on the couch and rolled her over on top of him, tucking her head beneath his chin and petting her hair. She made a quiet noise of approval and he felt her hands move around his sides, holding him gently. She was going to be ok and with a sigh of relief, Spike closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter 12 by dampersandspoons
I'm glad you guys liked Harriet and I'm surprised there was more than one of you who thought of 'Miracle Max' from the Princess Bride. That's kind of awesome.
ON TO THE STORY! Thanks so much for your reviews! Because of them, I whipped this chapter into submission and posted it like a hard spank to the ass! Keep 'em comin', folks! It makes my fingers type like the wind. LIKE THE FUCKING WIND.
I'm so sad I lost all your reviews when I posted this chapter yesterday...I even responded. :( Poor Pari, I think she's going to have a stroke if the site isn't back to normal soon.
There were several things Buffy noticed upon waking. The first thing was that she felt a hell of a lot better. In fact, if she happened to get up from her comfortable position, she’d realize she was almost completely healed. Second, she didn’t know where the hell she was, but it looked as if they were at someone’s grandmother’s house. She’d never seen so many Faberge eggs and doilies in her life and the smell of moth balls almost overpowered the room. If this was a friend of Spike’s, he had a lot of explaining to do. Did Spike hang out with grandmas? Weird. The third was that she was incredibly cozy with a sleeping Spike pillow beneath her, his arms banded around her waist, head perfectly tilted to permit her cheek to rest on his neck, one knee propped up to allow her hips to be cradled between his thighs and the soothing rumble of his chest when he moaned softly. The fourth and final thing she’d noticed was that yet again, she was completely naked. If this was going to be a trend then Buffy really wished that someone would have prepared her for it because the startling sensation of such a thing was getting old. Luckily, Spike was kind enough to drape his duster over them as a blanket but it still didn’t change the fact that yet again, Spike was wearing only a pair of jeans and yet again, her naked flesh felt wonderful against his.
As the minutes ticked by, Buffy’s memory started to return. The last thing she remembered was Spike driving her somewhere, the look of concern in his eyes and then darkness. Her anger started to swell as she recalled the Githyans who’d held her down in the back of their van and forced her to drink a nasty substance that quickly worked its way into her system. What was surprising was that she wasn’t afraid. She knew Spike would come for her. When he did, when she saw him walking through the cave, his form barely illuminated by the torches in the clearing, looking like a complete badass, a sexy badass she corrected herself, well, her heart pounded in her chest and she turned into a puddle of goo. She was jealous that he had all the fun annihilating the demons, but it was almost as entertaining just to watch. He really was quite frightening when determined and the fact that his mood had shifted into pure rage because she was in danger was enough to make any girl weak in the knees. Spike was like something out of a romance novel, all muscles and leather. If he rode in on a horse, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
And he’d saved her.
She wondered if she’d still be suspicious of him without this temporary telepathy. Probably, so. But she could read his mind, and even when she was in the van she could hear him. They hadn’t really tested the ability, her being bed ridden and all, but she could hear him plain as day. It was quieter at some point, probably when the van was too far away, but then it was louder and she knew he was getting close. He’d been angry, frightened, worried, panicked, determined, excited…and aroused. Oh, god…she’d almost forgotten about that part. And how the hell could she forget? Spike was…down there! With his mouth! Doing the thing with his tongue, and the grumbling and moaning, and the fingers and the…good lord, where had he been all her life? Her anger increased tenfold. Those stupid ugly Githyans had interrupted at the pinnacle of what was quite possibly the single most fantastic moment of Buffy’s entire existence, pulling the rug out from underneath her right as she was about to have what she guessed would have been the orgasm of the century. Bastards!
She decided that Angel was an idiot who knew nothing about women because he had never made her feel that way, never. She and Spike hadn’t even done the deed yet and he’d shown her heaven with his mouth and hands. She needed to feel that again, all the time, any chance she could. No wonder there were so many sluts at Sunnydale High if this was what they were experiencing. Buffy thought better than to compare Spike to a bunch of horny teenage boys. He was most definitely a man with over a century of experience. And he was hers. Screw Drusilla and the porcelain dolly she rode in on! Dru could have Angel’s sub par skills for all she cared. She could have them all the way to the loony bin and as soon as she got back to Sunnydale, she was going to convince Spike to make with the dirty groping on their front porch and leave sexy souvenirs on their property. Then they’d see who was laughing.
So maybe getting involved with a soulless vampire wasn’t such a fantastic idea and maybe she should learn from her mistakes with Angel. But right now, as she kissed Spike’s delicious neck and straddled his hips, she couldn’t think about that. After all, he’d saved her life and bought her a kitty! What kind of evil vampire would do things like that? He got her favorite candy and paid attention to all her little quirks in a matter of days! That was excellent boyfriend material if you asked her and bonus that he was so damn hot. She was invested now. If Spike ever turned on her, if he ever tried to kill her again…well, it would break her heart.
“Hey,” Spike said with a sleepy smile as he woke up. He sighed softly as Buffy sweetly kissed his neck and throat.
“Good morning. Or…afternoon,” she corrected as she noticed the clock on the wall. It was already 4 p.m.
Spike brushed her hair out of her face when she hovered above him, cupped her cheeks and studied her intently. “How’re you feelin’, luv?”
“Good as new,” she said in typical Buffy fashion. “I’m all with the healage.”
Spike sighed in relief and smiled warmly. “I was so worried about you.”
“I know,” she grinned.
Spike rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides. “I don’ know how much more of this mind readin’ of yours I can take.”
“But it’s so much fun for me,” she giggled and nibbled on his ear.
“You’re awfully chipper.”
“Well,” she folded her arms across his chest and propped her chin on them. “Besides the fact that I woke up in a strange place, almost died, got lugged around naked in a van with a bunch of demons and haven’t eaten in over 24 hours, I’ve got no complaints.”
“How very optimistic of you, kitten. Care to send some of that optimism my way?”
Buffy gently pressed her hips against his, smiling coyly when she felt how hard he already was. “I think you’ve got plenty.”
His nostrils flared and he grinned wickedly up at her, sneaking his hands beneath the duster to trace her spine with his fingers. An amorous Slayer was a terrible thing to waste and her scent had been invading him all afternoon, staining him with a promise of her arousal. He was falling hard, scary hard, but just happened to BE so hard that he couldn’t think about his emotions at a time like this. Not when she was slowly grinding her naked body against his, mewling like a kitten and…licking his sodding neck! “Fuck, Buffy…what’re you doin’?”
“Ooh, you like that, huh?” She did it again and giggled with satisfaction when he groaned. His groan turned into a full-on moan of ecstasy when she bit down on his jugular with blunt teeth. He took in shallow unneeded breaths, licked his lips and craned his neck back to give her more access, lifting his hips into hers as her movements became more determined. Buffy was driving him crazy, learning the one spot on his body that would send him over the edge in a matter of seconds. She should know better, really. Vampire and all.
He fisted his hand in her hair, pulled her up slightly and kissed her, breathing in through his nose as he gasped. He held her head in place, not quite satisfied with her lips yet and trailed his other hand to her waist beneath the duster, then down to her ass to push her into his erection. They broke the kiss for a moment, moaned, and quickly moved back to one another’s lips, sucking, biting and consuming one another. Her hair was a mess, tangled and mussed from one hell of a bad day, getting worse from Spike’s hands as they moved about her head, tilting it this way and that to taste her. Neither seemed to notice or care.
Buffy placed her hands on either side of his shoulders to prop herself up, biting her lip and grinding her bare pussy against him. Spike lifted his head to kiss her, only to be denied with a cheeky grin. So he cupped her bouncing breasts instead, smirking when she gasped as he pinched her nipples. Hard.
“I want you,” he said hoarsely, panting when she lowered her head and attacked his throat again. “Please, baby.”
She smiled against his neck and said, “You just called me baby.”
“Mmm,” he moaned, slipped a hand between them and quickly inserted a finger into her sopping core. She cried out and he chuckled. “So I did. Christ, you’re wet.”
“God that feels…”
“Tell me.” He was kissing her behind the ear, fingering her with one hand and raising goose bumps on her skin with the other as it lightly trailed up her back.
“Can’t…speak,” she said desperately and sighed into his mouth as she pressed her lips against his once more.
Spike was harder than he’d ever been and he was going to burst if she didn’t…oh, well that mind reading thing might not be as bad as Spike thought because Buffy was unzipping his jeans. She sat up slightly and almost forgot her mission as he continued to pump his fingers inside her but then she opened her eyes and remembered. She slipped his cock out of his pants and her eyes grew wide, smiling in shock. Fuck, she was gorgeous like this, naked, wearing his coat and gripping his cock which she was apparently impressed with. He tested their communication to see if she’d follow suit. When her hand slid upwards and she rolled her thumb over the head, swirling the tiny bead of pre cum around, he dropped his head on the arm of the couch and grinned at the ceiling. “Yeah, Buffy…just like that.” This was brilliant!
Buffy completely agreed. She wasn’t confident with things like this but being able to read his mind threw her inhibitions out the window. She’d do anything he wanted as long as he continued to look this sexy while she did it. Her hand moved over him like a pro, both of them gasping and moaning as they pleased one another. She released him for a moment, but only to position herself above him. He dragged his shaft along her folds as she grinded against him, groaning when her scorching heat enveloped him. He was on the edge of control and knew that if he didn’t bury his cock inside her soon, he might just die.
“Oh, good, you’re both awake!” Buffy’s chin quivered and Spike cursed, banging the back of his head on the arm of the couch. Harriet walked around the couch and smiled, completely ignorant to what she’d just walked in on. “I got the slayer’s bag from the car so she can get dressed. Jeez, you both slept for so long!”
“Buffy,” Spike said in a strained voice, his eyes screwed shut in frustration, “this is Harriet.”
After two very frustrating showers, two frantic solo releases and two disgruntled meals of chicken soup and bagged blood, Buffy and Spike sat on Harriet’s plastic covered couch as she explained what she’d been researching while they slept.
“Those Githyans are tracking you by your thoughts. You’ve got to be more careful,” she said as she laid two necklaces down on the coffee table. “These charms will protect your thoughts from anyone with telepathy. As long as you’re wearing these, they won’t know what you’re thinking or how to find you.”
“They’ll protect us from…everyone?” Spike asked pointedly as he looked at the Slayer.
He smirked and slipped his necklace on as Buffy pouted. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry…I’ll take it off the next opportunity you get to shove your cute lil’ hand down my pants.”
She gasped and swatted at his arm. “Spike!”
He laughed seductively, thinking of all sorts of diabolical things he’d like to do to her body, knowing she could no longer read his thoughts. He wondered if she’d let him tie her up, or sit on his face, or suck him off while he was driving, or better yet…he wondered if she was into anal.
“It will take a while for the magic to take effect, so you should wait another hour before you leave here,” Harriet said.
Spike’s eyes grew wide and he slowly turned to face Buffy who was crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow at him. He grinned sheepishly and she shook her head at his mind’s capabilities. “Pig.”
“What? I can’t help it. Evil, remember? Now put your necklace on.”
She glared at him and slipped it over her head. She wondered what anal was, but knowing Spike, it had nothing to do with being overly attentive when it came to cleaning and organization.
“So, I was wondering,” Harriet asked with a shy expression, “if you’d give me your autograph?”
Buffy batted her eyelashes and looked from the red head to Spike. “Um…you want my autograph?”
“Well, yeah! You’re the slayer fer cryin’ out loud!” She shoved a note pad in her lap and tapped on it with her finger. “Make it out to My Dear Harriet,” she watched as Buffy started writing. “H-a-r-r-i-e-t. That’s right. Say that you’re so glad I let you stay in my gorgeous home and that we’ll be seeing each other soon.”
Spike snorted and Buffy sighed, shaking her head as she wrote what the woman instructed. As a side note, she added, “Thanks for saving my life.” She handed her the notepad and Harriet read it over, covering her mouth with her manicured fingers as she fought back false tears.
“Oh, I’m getting misty! Lookit, my eyes is goin’ crazy!” She dabbed a cloth beneath her eyes and held her breath. “Thank you so much. I swear…Janet is going to simply die when she hears about this.”
Spike was already grabbing their stuff and heading towards the door, uncaring about the hour waiting time and wanting to get the hell out of there. Buffy took the hint and stood up, gasping when Harriet embraced her in a fierce hug, patting her on the back hard.
“Now you kids be careful and remember Harriet Goldstein is always here to help, ok?”
“Time’s a wastin’, pet,” Spike called from the door.
She nodded and pried herself from the woman’s arms and headed for the door. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us. I really appreciate it.” Especially the part when you interrupted Spike and I about to have sex, she thought inwardly with increasing bitterness. That made three times that she and Spike had started something and didn’t get to finish. Of course, the first time was his fault…but at least she wasn’t to blame. She hated being blamed for things.
Harriet called out to them all the way to the car, shouting her good luck and to be sure to eat the peanut brittle she packed for them, waving maniacally as they pulled out and onto the road.
Spike was silent as he drove the car, his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his jaw tense and his eyes focused on the road. He softened a bit when Buffy put her hand on his thigh, but not by much.
“Me too,” she said with a sigh. “Me too.”
“How long until sunrise?” He asked helplessly.
She giggled. “Um…eleven hours.”
He groaned. As much as he wanted to pull the car over and shag her brains out, they’d already lost so much time and had to cover as much ground as they could before sunrise. But once that hotel key went into the lock the next morning, opening the door like a welcoming embrace, they were going to have themselves a real good time. He could already imagine how she sounded when she screamed, how she would look as he thrust inside her, how she would feel strangling his cock…and this so was not helping his already painful condition. He felt her hand squeeze his leg before moving a bit higher towards his crotch and he knew he wasn’t alone with his thoughts. Buffy ripped her hand away reluctantly and inhaled sharply.
“Maybe we should turn on the radio.”
TBC! WILL SPIKE ETERNALLY SUFFER FROM A BAD CASE OF BLUE BALLS? WILL DAMPERSANDSPOONS CONTINUE TO TEASE YOU LIKE A BURLESQUE WHORE? HAS UST REACHED THE POINT OF NO RETURN? WILL BUFFY ALMOST DIE AGAIN? PROFESSOR, WHAT'S ANOTHER NAME FOR PIRATE TREASURE?
Chapter 13 by dampersandspoons
I give you...the greatest chapter of all time.
Her hand was on his crotch. Buffy’s hand…was on his sodding crotch and she was going to get them both killed.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she said as she looked out the car window and fondled him outside his jeans. He shifted in his seat and clenched his jaw. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, luv. I’m already in a world of hurt over here.”
She giggled and slid his zipper down. “I know what you want,” she sing-songed and slipped her hand behind the zipper, searching for his already hard cock.
“Fuck, pet,” he gasped and jerked the steering wheel as he almost drove into a Semi, hurling Buffy’s form against her door.
“Ow,” she pouted and rubbed her elbow.
Spike zipped up his jeans and pressed his foot down on the gas.
Buffy slid down on her car seat and propped her feet up on the dash as she dug into a bag of Twizzlers. Spike watched her through the corner of his eye as she innocently sucked on the long red candy string and moved her bare legs from side to side. She just had to wear that sodding mini skirt and torture him with her gorgeous legs.
And then Spike smiled wickedly. She was wearing a short mini skirt. And her legs were propped up on the dashboard. He placed his hand on her knee and made the slow descent up her thigh.
“Excuse me,” Buffy said giggling, “but just what the heck are you doing?”
“Nothin’,” he said grinning and dragged two fingers over her mound.
She gasped and her legs spread a little wider giving him better access. “Liar.”
He bit his lip and leaned to the right a little further so he could sneak his way beneath her panties, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Look who’s all wet.”
“You got that right.”
“Are you watching the road?”
“Course I am. Now shut your mouth. Fuck, you’re tight.”
“Feel good, baby?”
“So good. Mmmm…”
“God I want to be right here…do you want me?”
“Fuck, kitten…you’re close, I can feel it.”
“We missed our exit.”
Spike removed his hand from her skirt and made a u-turn, tires squealing on the pavement as he angrily doubled back. He glanced at the clock. Two more hours until they could make their stop. Two more incredibly frustrating hours.
As soon as Buffy got the hotel key and fumbled with the lock she had a vampire pressed against her back nibbling on her ear.
“Hurry,” he said.
If the desperation in his voice wasn’t a clue, then the bulge rubbing against her ass was. She gave into the sensation of his mouth on her neck and his hands dipping beneath her t-shirt for a moment before she remembered that they were still outside. Spike pushed the door open as soon as she turned the knob, twirled her around and slammed her back against it, closing it shut when they were inside. He cupped her face and kissed her, pressing his erection into her stomach as he moaned against her mouth. She tugged his shirt over his shoulders while she kicked off her shoes, pausing to kiss him again. Everything about him was so passionate, so right now that it stole her breath away. With a parting kiss to her neck, he sank to his knees and pushed her denim skirt up and over her hips.
She raised her hands and let them lay limp against the door, closing her eyes as he buried his face between her legs and groaned. She squealed when he lifted both her legs up and slung them over his shoulders. Buffy had to grab the door knob for support as he lifted her up to his mouth and licked her through her panties.
He chuckled silkily and slowed his pace down a fraction, dragging his tongue over the soaked fabric, teething and nibbling her folds through the material. She could feel his hands caressing her ass, pushing her panties aside to grip each soft globe of flesh as he moaned and hummed his approval into her core. Before she had a chance to beg, he ripped her panties away and sucked her clit into his mouth as he slowly slid in two fingers. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her legs quivered as he worshipped her slit with his mouth and fingers. She looked down at him and almost came when he smiled up at her with that cocky expression of his. Well, he’d earned that look in her opinion.
Spike loved this girl’s puss, could taste her all day but if he had to wait any longer to be inside her, if one more thing interrupted them, he’d become murderous and kill everything in his path. He’d never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted Buffy and the sounds she made…
That was it. He dropped her legs on the floor, stood up, snapped his fingers and pointed to his belt buckle. She opened her mouth to protest his bossiness but when he curled his tongue behind his teeth and tilted his head, she hurriedly unbuckled it, biting her lip with a coy smile. But she was taking too bloody long so he pushed her hands away and immediately dropped trou. He hooked his hands behind her knees and lifted her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He locked eyes with her as he poised himself at her entrance and right as he was about to plunge himself inside her, someone pounded on the door.
“Samantha? Are you in there you bitch? Where’s my money, ho?”
Spike snarled and vamped out and still holding Buffy’s body against his, he opened the door and growled at the pimp at the door.
“Samantha’s not here, mate!” Spike roared and the man let out a girlish scream and quickly bolted. Spike grabbed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign from the inside, slapped it out the outer door knob, slammed the door shut and locked it. Buffy squealed as he pressed her up against the door again and quickly entered her, sliding to the hilt with a moan. He pressed his forehead on the door next to her cheek and panted, trying to collect himself. She was scorching him and he’d never been inside anything so tight before. She was like a warm embrace, hugging every inch of him with perfection. His human visage returned and he looked at her with concern when he remembered she’d only done this once before, afraid he’d hurt her. But once his eyes locked with hers, the tip of her tongue traced his lips and she pivoted her hips against his. One corner of his mouth lifted in a seductive smirk and he gripped her hips and started moving inside her.
Buffy clung to his shoulders and let out a kittenish mewl when he twisted his hips, rubbing the tip of his cock against an incredibly sensitive spot inside her. He’d come unleashed and all she could do was hold on for the ride. Her back slammed against the door with every powerful thrust, highlighted by his desperate grunting. The phone rang and he snarled again, walking their connected bodies to the phone. He wrapped his hand around the cord three times, still moving inside her, and ripped it out of the wall. Buffy giggled and he gave her a warning glare and tossed her onto the bed. She stared up at him as he removed his boots and then slipped his pants off his ankles.
“Take your shirt off.”
Panting and slightly trembling from the commanding tone of his voice, Buffy fisted the hem of her shirt and pulled it off her shoulders. His hand trailed down his chest, down his abdomen as his eyes moved over her body. Once his hand gripped the base of his cock he said, “The bra too, pet,” and started stroking. With fumbling fingers, she somehow managed to unhook her bra and toss it across the room. Her eyes were fixed on his hand as it moved up and down his long shaft, glistening with her juices. She propped herself up on her elbows, waiting for his next move but he seemed content just looking at her and pleasuring himself. It was fine for now, she thought, because as it turned out, she really liked watching. He licked his lips and walked to the edge of the bed between her legs and said, “Have you ever sucked cock before, Buffy?”
She blushed and looked away with embarrassment. “No.” But god, did she want to!
He smiled and took one of her hands and pulled her up to a sitting position in front of him. “There’s nothin’ to it. Jus’ do what you feel is right, I promise I’ll love it.”
She bit her lip nervously and looked up at him. “You’ll tell me if it’s bad?” She eyed his necklace, wanting him to take it off and walk her through it with his thoughts. He saw where her gaze had traveled and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Buffy…you haven’t disappointed me yet, luv. Please? I’ll get on my bloody knees if I have to.”
He was still stroking himself, inches away from her mouth. His begging seemed to relax her, though, and she gave him an experimental lick on the tip of his head. He dropped his hands at his sides and gasped, “See? Haven’ even touched me proper an’ I’m all yours.”
With newfound determination and confidence, Buffy wrapped her lips around his cock and slid down as far as she could. When she couldn’t take more of him in, she gripped the remainder with her hand and swallowed. She could hear him saying ‘fuck’ and ‘holy shit’ and other curse words strangled by moans and heavy panting. Intent on making more of those noises, she focused on her task and moved hand and mouth simultaneously at a steady rhythm. Buffy was starting to enjoy it, experimenting with her tongue and fingers, twisting her hand and rolling her tongue along the base. Everything she tried, he praised. She absolutely adored how vocal he was because not only was it hot as hell, but it made her feel like a woman who knew what she was doing, even though she hadn’t the slightest clue. She was surprised when his hand tenderly touched her face and he smiled sweetly at her, whispering her name.
So was he.
Spike was not prepared for the emotions he was feeling right then and was thankful he was wearing the necklace charm. He’d fully anticipated barging into the room and shagging her senseless but once he’d looked at her on the bed, innocent and beautiful, he didn’t want to rush it anymore. And now she was sucking him off like his dick held the meaning of life and looking up at him with those needy green eyes of hers and he couldn’t help but be eternally grateful for this woman who’d forced him to accompany her on a road trip to hell. Dru had never enjoyed giving head, except the one time, and his undead heart clenched as Buffy’s free hand caressed the smooth expanse of his stomach and she slowed down her pace to lick him from base to tip. She didn’t want to rush it either. She wanted to learn all his hidden spots, learn what made him scream, and she’d already discovered so many in such a short amount of time. When he touched her face, it was such an involuntary gesture and then he’d said her name like a prayer and couldn’t retract it. She had to know…had to know how he was feeling unless she was dumb and blind.
But Buffy was still only seventeen and this entire experience with Spike was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. She knew she wanted him, but how much? How far was she willing to take this? It was easy to get swept up in the idea of being with Spike when it was just the two of them but she was smart enough to know that after Angel, her friends wouldn’t be so accepting. In one day, they’d be in Maryland fighting who knows how many Githyans. One more day and they’d have to head home, back to reality, back to their own separate lives. So why then, was she allowing him to push her back on the bed and suckle the column of her throat? If she knew no good would come of it, why did she moan his name when he was nestled inside of her again? Why did she feel the sting of tears when his exposed blue eyes locked with hers as he slowly moved inside of her? Why did she never want it to end? It was different this time. He kissed her without closing his eyes, rested his cheek against hers and tucked his hands beneath her shoulder blades, relishing the feel of his cock slowly gliding in and out, her warm body pressed against his and her hot breath in his ear.
He was fucked.
And Spike should have known better, should have known how easy it was for him to fall, should have warded off his emotional attachment to her from day one…but when she cried that first night, he was already on his way to Ponceville. She was like him in so many ways. She put up a tough front and could kick your ass clear into next week but beneath her strength was someone just as vulnerable as he was, someone who’d suffered and lost, someone who didn’t trust easily. He loved every part of her, even the bitchy parts. Sometimes, especially the bitchy parts. And then she’d scared him half to death when she almost died, and went off and almost died again. He didn’t know if he could take another fright like that and knew of one sure way to protect her, one thing that would keep her safe. She’d never go for it, so he wouldn’t ask but he couldn’t help his gaze from staring hungrily at her neck. He could hear her blood coursing through her veins, her heart pounding in her chest, and could smell the scent of her arousal increasing as he brought her closer to climax. It would be so easy…he could just slip in and drink as she came, mark her as his and be done with it. She couldn’t kill him then, but she might hate him for it so he swallowed down the desire and focused on the feel of her slick channel strangling his cock. He pressed his lips against hers and bucked his hips forward, grinning when she cried out.
“Come, baby,” he whispered. “Wanna feel you drenching me.”
“Oh, Spike,” she said almost sobbing, thrashing her head from side to side and then finally shouting when he brought a hand between them and stroked her clit. Spike roared when her inner walls gripped him tight as she came, the words ‘I Love You’ begging to spill out in time with his seed but he choked it back and shouted something that sounded a lot like her name but mostly a lot of growling, and collapsed on top of her, both of them swallowing gulps of air as they regained the strength lost in their limp and sated bodies.
This was the part Buffy feared, the part when he’d leave or pretend nothing had happened. Maybe he’d lay with her for a while, but she was certain that he’d pull away from her and that would be the end of—
“Oh, Buffy,” he said sweetly, brushing her hair out of her eyes and kissing her cheeks. “I hope you aren’t planning on going to sleep just yet because I’m not even partially done with you.”
Buffy smiled and kissed him. And maybe she was wrong.
Chapter 14 by dampersandspoons
I LOVE YOU ALL AND I LOVE MYSELF AND I LOVE SANTA AND I LOVE THIS STORY SO LET'S GET TO IT!
“Rise and shine,” Spike said sweetly as he nuzzled Buffy’s neck.
She smiled and opened her eyes, rolling onto her side to rest her cheek on his chest. “Hey there. And what do you think you’re doing with that hand, mister?”
Spike bit his lip as he pinched her nipple. “I have no idea what you’re on about, luv.”
“So that’s not you doing that?”
“Hmm-mm,” he said shaking his head and kissed her shoulder. “I’m behaving myself.”
“That would be a first, considering what we did last…” she blushed, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck to hide it from him.
He chuckled and moved his hand from her breast to her stomach. “Say it.”
“Oh, come on, please? You’re so cute when you say naughty things. Remember when you called my cock a big—”
“Spike!” She swatted his shoulder playfully, the red on her cheeks turning crimson. “Clearly I was out of my mind.”
“You wound me, pet,” he pouted, sneaking his hand between her thighs and gently rubbing her between her folds. “Ooh, what’s this?”
“Spike,” she whispered, closing her eyes and sucking on her lower lip.
“Love that sound,” he said huskily as he moved on top of her and then pressed his lips against hers. “Think you’ll be sayin’ it a few more times before I let you out of this bed.”
”That works, too,” he smiled proudly, sliding down her body to kiss her nipples, still stroking her gently and teasing her entrance.
Buffy was through calling him out on his cockiness. Done taking away his pride. Finished with resisting him. After the night they had, after the things…oh, the many miraculous things he’d done to her, she decided that Spike had won the title of Supernatural Sex Stallion and she shouldn’t mock something so fantastic; something she was damn lucky to have currently between her legs. “Please, Spike…”
“What do you need, kitten,” he cooed, licking her beneath her breasts and staring up at her, continuing that damned slow glide of his fingers along her aching, sodden flesh.
“Need,” she panted, licking her lips, “more…please…”
“An’ what did we learn last night?”
She glared at him and he bit back a laugh. “Please, Spike?”
“No,” he shook his head.
She sighed and dropped her head back on her pillow, squirming beneath him. “Please lick me or put something inside me!”
His forehead fell to her stomach as he started chuckling, the pitch going higher when she started swatting at his head. “Sorry…I’m sorry, pet.”
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not…it’s just,” he chuckled again and took a deep breath, halting his laughter. “You’re just the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Seeing that she was getting angry, he tried to back-pedal his way out of an argument. “Guess what?”
She reluctantly turned her head to look at him and raised her eyebrows in response.
He smiled for a moment, making sure she was looking at him. “This.” Then he pounced, sucking her clit into his mouth and raising her legs up in the air with both hands. She cried out, arching her back off the mattress as he slid his tongue inside of her.
He wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed two fingers inside her, growling as his tongue flicked and circled her swollen nub. She clutched his hair and thrashed her head to the side as a hoarse cry tore from her throat. Every muscle in her body resisted movement, stunned still by the talents of the vampire’s mouth and hands and finally wailed in protest when he pulled away. She foggily remembered saying, “Huh?” but it was soon swallowed by his lips as he moved over her again and thrust inside of her with his rigid shaft.
“Love,” he thrust hard, “this,” another thrust, “pussy. Fuck, baby!”
Buffy bit her lip and smiled proudly up at him as she squeezed him internally, thrilled to bits when she discovered it the night before. The fourth or fifth time they’d had sex she tried it and Spike’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, letting out a feral growl that would have frightened her if she didn’t know any better, and duly noted that it was the sexiest noise she’d ever heard. She was hoping to hear it again that morning. Spike didn’t disappoint.
His eyes flashed amber and he stilled above her, growling as she continued to squeeze him. “How the bloody hell do you do that?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She did it again and Spike’s head dropped forward, his hips completely still, enjoying the feel of her simply massaging him from the inside. But Buffy wasn’t having any of that. She pushed his shoulders back and rolled them over, a little too hard as they both came crashing to the floor. They cried out as the movement impaled her further on his cock. Without losing their stride, Spike gripped her hips and bounced her up and down, digging his heels in the carpet to get a better angle. He could feel his demon raging inside him, begging him to take her for eternity but his human side was too awed by the sight above him. She sat straight up, her hands bunched in her hair, eyes closed, mouth parted slightly, tits bouncing fiercely as she rode him. He held her waist still and thrust upwards, each pace coming faster than the one before it like a piston, in and out, smiling with lust as she called his name and begged for more.
Buffy felt a primal need inside her, something that almost frightened her as her body craved him, wanted to crawl beneath his skin, find a way to fuck him in return, get inside him, take residence in his cock and lay claim to his body. She dropped one hand from her hair and dragged her thumb across his lower lip, tugging on it as she ground into him, breathing through her teeth as she became lost to lust. Spike merely stared at her in awe, driving harder into her, calling upon the tigress within her to do as she wished. She pushed her thumb into his mouth and smiled as he immediately began sucking on it. Her free hand clawed at his chest and she moaned when he swiveled his hips.
“Oh, Buffy…ride me, baby…fuck yes!”
Spike knew she had it in her, knew she was a little minx in waiting and his nostrils flared as he moved at a bruising pace beneath her. She clawed at her throat, panted and mewled as the pitch of her cries grew higher and higher. She wanted to consume him, wanted to breathe his breath, taste his essence and let him live inside her. She stared at his throat, stared at the jugular vein that pulsed as his muscles constricted, stared at the mark that made him the demon that he was and sneered. Drusilla. Always her!
There was a brief moment of terror in Spike’s eyes, but only a moment that was quickly replaced with wanting unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He wasn’t fucking Buffy…he was fucking the slayer…and she wanted him. Before he could decipher her intentions, she lurched forward and bit his neck so hard she drew blood, latching on to it as she rode him. Spike shouted in rapture, gripping her ass and thrusting desperately, faster, faster, almost sobbing as she started to lick and suck the blood from his neck. Her sweet tongue traced the ragged marks her human teeth left behind, her hot breath wafted over his skin and he came hard and long when he felt her walls close in on him. They both moaned with their release, never halting their movements, dragging it out for as long as possible, not wanting to separate until there was nothing left of them.
And then he panicked, realizing that he’d been too far gone to notice that she’d said the words. THE words. She drank from his neck and claimed him. Buffy, the sodding slayer supped from his throat and said, “You’re mine!” Did she know what she’d done? Had she any idea what she’d bound herself to? Bound him to? He hadn’t accepted the claim, so there was a chance out of this.
Of course, it was a bloody dream come true but only if she knew exactly what she’d done. There was no way he would accept something like this if she’d only acted on lust, not truly knowing the consequences (or benefits in his mind) from doing such a thing.
“Buffy! You just…”
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Her eyes were wide with worry, hands covering her sweet mouth as she looked down at the bite mark on his neck.
“Bloody hell, no,” he tried to console her though his tone was still loud with shock and restrained awe. “Vampire, here. Sort of a thing for us.”
“I don’t know why I did that…it was like,” she struggled to find the words, making Spike groan as she wiggled above him, “like something was pulling me towards you, you know? And…ewww? I just drank your blood, oh my god, Spike! I just drank…”
“Shh,” he said softly, closing his eyes, knowing she’d done it by mistake. “It’s ok, kitten.” He hoisted her off of him and stood up, unable to look at her and show her his disappointed and hurt expression. She hadn’t meant to do it; it was only an act of passion. Of course she didn’t want it. “I’m going to hop in the shower. You should pack up. Gotta head out soon.”
She watched him from the floor, her brow furrowed in thought trying to figure out what she’d done to upset him. She opened her mouth to speak but he’d already closed the bathroom door. “What did I do?”
Spike had been silent the entire drive and it was making Buffy nervous. Oh, he’d respond if she asked him a question, but it was curt and brief and laced with sadness. When she tried to question him about what happened in the hotel, he changed the subject, forced a smile and patted her on the knee. She knew she’d done something wrong. She could practically feel his emotions, like they were linked somehow. She wondered if his necklace charm wasn’t quite working but then she frowned, realizing she couldn’t read his thoughts, only sense his emotions. Perhaps because they'd been intimate she'd been able to read him better. Satisfied, she check-marked that thought to be the only reason for this strange bond she felt with him. Her need to protect and comfort him grew stronger each passing minute as did his sadness and it was starting to bother her.
“Hm?” he fiddled with the knobs on the radio.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, pet. Just focused on the task at hand. Gonna have to scope the caves out before we attack, get a good feel of the place. Jus’ thinkin’ is all.” The smile he gave her never reached his eyes and she frowned.
“Please talk to me.”
He sighed and lit a cigarette as he rolled down the car window. “Nothin’ to say, pet. Don’ worry about me, I’ll be right as rain after a spot of blood an’ a good long nap. You wore me out, kitten,” he tried to joke but she knew he was just avoiding the subject.
She leaned her head against the window and sighed. Having Spike in a mood wouldn’t help them when they did finally attack and she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t speak to her about it. She’d been patient, tried to let him know she’d listen to him, went over their morning in her head a million times trying to figure out what she’d done. Something about her biting him really upset him. Was it because she’d done it over Dru’s mark? Was there some weird vampire/sire line that she’d crossed?
“Are you still in love with Dru?”
Spike almost spit his cigarette out and he gripped the steering wheel as he almost veered into the median. “What?”
“You heard me. Do you love Dru?”
He stared straight ahead and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. Did he love Dru? Well, he guessed he always would in a way. She’d been his everything for over a century and while he’d come to terms with the fact that they were over, he supposed there would always be a link between them. However, after everything he’d shared with Buffy, he didn’t know how strong that link was any longer. “I don’t know how to answer that, luv. Sorry.”
Buffy sighed in frustration and turned to face him. “Pull the car over!”
“You don’t get to ask me questions when you can’t even answer mine so pull this damn car over!”
He shook his head and pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road, turning towards her in anticipation for a fight but she opened her car door and got out, slamming it behind her. His cigarette dangled from his lip as he watched her pacing in front of the vehicle, yammering on about something to herself, kicking the asphalt, looking more gorgeous than she ever had. He cautiously exited the vehicle, leaving the lights on, and walked towards her. “Buffy? Something wrong, pet?”
She spun around to face him and glared at him as she mimicked him, poorly. “’Something wrong, pet?’” She flung her hands in the air in distress. “Yeah, there’s something wrong! You!”
Spike snorted and lit another cigarette, having tossed the other aside. “What did I do?”
Buffy jabbed a pointed finger into his chest, her eyes alight with rage. “You have been ignoring me since we left the hotel! You have been acting like a total weenie face and all I want to do is figure out what’s wrong.” ”
"Weenie face?” he couldn’t help it. It was too adorable.
She roared and turned around, pacing again. “You are so irritating! Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong? For hours now I keep sensing you, feeling that something is off and yet you keep denying it! Did I hurt you, Spike? Are you afraid I’m going to end things or something? Are you…oh, god…you don’t want me, do you? That’s it! You…we…and now you’re done, right?”
“Are you daft?” Spike stormed over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Of course I want you! Why would you think…”
“Because…well, I don’t know! I mean, we had that great evening and then when we woke up and…”
“I’m not the great poofter, Buffy. I don’t know what you want but…I can’t stop this if I tried.”
She stared up at him for a moment and then averted her eyes. “But this morning…”
"This morning,” he tilted her chin up to look him in the eyes, “was the best bloody thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“So why were you so upset?”
“Because…” he backed away and rolled his eyes, kicking himself for being a git. “Because you claimed me, Buffy.”
“I…huh?” Her nose wrinkled and she tilted her head. “No I didn’t.”
Spike pursed his lips and pointed to the bite mark on his neck. “This, pet. When you bite a vampire and say ‘you’re mine’ and suck his blood, you’ve placed a claim on him.” When Buffy continued to look at him with that deer-in-headlights gaze he almost laughed. “Fuck, your watcher doesn’t tell you anythin’, does he?”
“So…what does that mean?”
“It means that we’re bound to each other. Forever. It’s like a marriage between vamps. Whatever you feel, I feel an' vice-versa. The only way to break it is if one of us dies.”
Buffy gasped and ran her hands through her hair. “So…I did that?”
He hoped there might be a twinge of happiness in her face after he’d told her that, hoping he could hang on to the dream that she’d want him before he told her that it wasn’t a complete claim. But she’d proved that yet again, she didn’t want him. Sighing, he said, “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. I didn’t accept the claim so you can quit fussing over it.”
Spike turned to the side, away from her and Buffy finally said something after staring at his back for a long while. “So you were upset because I tried to claim you? Upset because I might have wanted more out of this?”
“No, I’m…Buffy, I’m upset because you didn’t mean to.”
They were silent for what seemed like hours. Buffy let all of this new information seep in. If she’d tried to claim him, didn’t that mean something? She was acting purely on instinct, her slayer side almost taking over completely, seeing him for the powerful vampire he was, the ally he’d become and the mate…the…mate? When had she ever thought about that word?
Spike was just waiting for her to do something, anything to change the subject so they could get back in the car and make with the much needed violence. He’d already said more than he intended and from the look on her face, she was struggling to deal with it all. “Buffy…let’s just go. I’ll be fine.”
“Spike? Why did you want me to claim you?”
“No. Not goin’ there, pet…no, no, no.” He waved his hand in the air and walked to the car door but as soon as he placed his hand on the latch, Buffy turned him around.
“Can you jus’ bloody drop it? I don’ want to talk about this, it doesn’ matter to you an’ it doesn’ matter to me. Was a great fuck, thanks for the memories but let’s get on the road now, ok?”
“Don’t you pull the tough guy attitude with me,” she spat, pushing him on the chest, “because I can see right through it. Partial claim, remember? So quit jerking me around and tell me, Spike. Tell me why!”
Without even thinking, it slipped out in a frustrated cry. “Because I love you!”
TBC! HAS ANYONE EVER SEEN A CLIFF BEFORE AND WANTED TO HANG FROM IT? WILL SPIKE EAT HIS WORDS? WHEN BIRDS FLY IN A V-SHAPE AND ONE SIDE IS LONGER THAN THE OTHER, IS THERE A BIRD WITH O.C.D. WHO IS PANICKING FROM THE STRESS OF UNEVENNESS? WILL GEORGE CARLIN BE CREMATED OR BURIED? FIND OUT NEXT TIME WHEN DAMPERSANDSPOONS BLOWS YOUR FUCKING MINDS!!!!
Chapter 15 by dampersandspoons
Buffy blinked, her mouth dropped open and all the breath that was currently in her lungs escaped as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She certainly wasn’t expecting that reply. Spike pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “I mean…” He sighed and spun around, grabbing the door handle. “Just get in the bloody car an’ let’s go.”
That seemed to shake her out of her reverie and her hand shout out, grabbing him by the arm and turning him to face her again. “Did you just say…”
He smirked and looked to the moon for an answer, though none came. He’d really fucked it up now. Him and his stupid mouth! “Slayer, let’s do this after the big fight, yeah?”
She frowned at his usage of ‘Slayer’. He was not going to say that he loved her only try to pretend nothing had happened! “Spike…”
“Oh, bugger this!” He roared and pushed past her, pacing the dark asphalt as he lit yet another cigarette. “You bloody women drive me insane! ‘s not my fault, you know! It’s yours! With your short skirts an’ your big green eyes! I can’ help it, you know! Always been love’s bitch. An’ if you think this is funny,” he pointed at her with a warning glare when she giggled to herself and she sucked her lips into her mouth to try and hide it, “then think again! I’m not the one who prances around lookin’ like sex on stilts, that’s you!”
“An’ you know what?” He ignored that she’d addressed him and marched over to her, glaring, coming inches away from her. “Dru bloody well knew it! She knew I’d felt something for you an’ I didn’ listen. Know why?” She just stared at him. “Because she’s fucking crazy, that’s why!”
He sighed abruptly and clenched his jaw, folding his arms over his chest like a scolded child and stared at her incredulously. “Fine,” he grumbled and kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot.
“Are you finished?”
“Yeah,” he pouted.
She bit her lip. “This would be a lot sexier if you were kissing me right now.”
His head shot up and he swallowed hard. “Uh…” Buffy raised her eyebrows, challenging him. “Right, then.” He pounced, pressing her into the side of the SUV and kissed her with everything he had. His mind was bombarded with a million phrases that he wanted to shout at that moment. One was, “Halleluiah,” another was, “About bloody time,” and his personal favorite was, “Suck it, Angel!” But he settled for blissful moaning instead. She tasted so sweet, so pure. Her body was so warm, so soft and he couldn’t resist palming the weight of her breasts in his hands, roughly tweaking her nipples and eliciting a soft keening sound from her gorgeous lips. His eyes shot open when he felt her hands fumbling with his belt buckle, and then he growled. “In the car. Now.”
She nodded and reached behind her to grab the door handle, her mouth still latched to his, and once the back door was finally opened, he lifted her up and tossed her onto the bench seat. He stared at her for a moment as he removed his duster and chucked it to the back. “Sure about this?” He was taking off his shirt.
“Are you really, really sure?” He was tentatively getting into the car.
“Yes!” she giggled.
“Because sweetheart, I’m about to shag you until you can’t breathe.”
She panted and felt her cheeks grow warm, needing him more than she ever had. She knew he’d live up to his threat, hoped even that he would. “Will you just get in here and do it already!”
He smiled proudly and crawled over her, slowly licking his lips just before his face hovered over hers. “No turnin’ back, pet,” he pushed her skirt up and over her hips, “after this…you’re mine.”
She nodded dumbly on the verge of hyperventilating as her desire increased. “Please…”
He pressed his lips against hers and pulled away when she took off her shirt. “Fuck, look at you…”
“No looking! More smoochies.”
He chuckled and obeyed her willingly, dipping his tongue into her mouth and teasing her lips with his teeth. Spike was doomed to love this girl for the rest of his undead life and as soon as he made her his, he’d see to it that there were more moments like this. She’d blown his mind with how she made him feel. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d come harder and had more fun having sex than he ever had before. And he loved her. Every inch of her. Especially this one part that he was currently uncovering and licking greedily.
“Oh my god!”
“You love it, don’t you?”
“Yes! Please don’t stop!”
Buffy arched her back as Spike’s talented tongue spread her open and sucked her clit into his mouth. Oh, she loved how he did this! He knew exactly what to do to please her, never needed instruction, almost brought tears to her eyes with the intensity of it. And if he spoke to her, which he always did, all the better. He could say the nastiest things, things that would make her blush, but it just made her want more. That silky, low grumbling of his voice while in the thick of it was the sexiest sound in the world and she was willing to bet he could make her come just by whispering in her ear. She’d have to ask him to try it sometime.
“Feel good, pet?”
“Tell me. Tell me you love it when I taste you, when I slide a finger up inside that tight pussy of yours,” he demonstrated thusly.
“God, yes!” she was shouting desperately, thrusting her hips wantonly into his mouth and hand.
“Mmm, Buffy…you’re gonna get it.” And god, did she want to get it! Any way he’d give it to her. Hard, soft, fast, slow…didn’t matter as long as it was Spike who was doing it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that she’d be in the back of a rental car with a master vampire between her legs and screaming his name. And he’d said he loved her! Not Drusilla…Buffy! She wanted to shout it from the roof tops, wanted to record him saying it and mail it to the crazy bitch and rub it in her face! And oh, God, he was naked.
“Come here,” he purred as he sat up and patted his thighs.
“Ok,” she said shyly and climbed on top of him.
He kissed her again, softly this time, then kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her ear, and whispered, “I do, Buffy…I love you.”
He stroked her cheeks and almost dusted when she said, “I love you, too.”
Well, that was the smartest thing that had ever spilled from her lips, in his opinion, and he didn’t want her to ruin it, so he kissed her again, wrapped his arms around her waist and sighed happily. “Can we do it now?” he asked, biting his lip and looking up at her.
“I don’t know,” she teased. “I’m kinda tired.”
“Liar.” He wiggled his hips beneath her, trying to nudge his way in.
Buffy reached behind her and grabbed his hands that were banded around her hips and jerked them away. He frowned for a minute, wondering why she’d suddenly changed her mind. But then his nostrils flared and he gave her a wicked grin when she slammed his wrists on the seat and held him in place. “Don’t move.”
The demon inside him begged to protest, but Spike quashed the need for dominance just to see where she was going with this. Buffy in Slayer mode was sexy as hell and from the hard look she was giving him; he was in for a treat. So he sat still like a good boy and waited patiently, swallowing the urge to tell her how much he loved her again. And then he moaned, closing his eyes and dropping his head on the back of the seat as she sank down on him, just an inch, and squeezed.
“Oh, are you gonna beg me you big bad vampire?” She didn’t know where her bravado came from, but making Spike squirm beneath her was too tempting to let go. She squeezed again.
“Fuck…you gotta…” he tried to lift his hips but she jerked away and glared at him. He chuckled silkily. “Minx.”
“You want it?”
She sank down a little further, fluttering her eyelashes as the feel of him almost made her forget what she was doing. “Make me.”
Well, fuck if that wasn’t the winning phrase! Spike growled and thrust hard up into her, smirking arrogantly when she squealed. “Look who’s in charge now!”
“Oh god, Spike…yes! You’re the…oh, god,” she moaned as he started moving inside her.
“Say it! Say I’m the boss!”
He was only playing, but couldn’t stop grinning when she said, “You’re the boss! You win!” He’d let her tie him up later if it helped her precious ego. But now, when declarations of love were swimming around in the air, Spike needed to be in control. With inhuman speed, he flipped them over, kept one foot on the floor and a knee on the seat, lifted one leg over his shoulder and glided easily inside her, hissing as she strangled his cock. “You realize,” he kissed her ankle, “that I will never get tired of this, don’t you?”
She stretched like a feline and smiled coyly at him. “Better not. Oh! Or I’ll stake your ass. Oh god!”
“Idle threats will get you nowhere,” he grunted, and leaned over to kiss her as his hips took over. She was his perfect match, his slayer, his Buffy…and she felt better than anything in the world. Fit him like a glove, panted and mewled in such a delicious way, clawed at his shoulders, writhed beneath him and turned him on like no other. This was worth one hundred plus years of living. This, right here, this girl beneath him, looking at him with those gorgeous eyes of hers, silently begging him to bring her over the edge, her strong grip on his cock reminding him the power she held, the soft touch of her lips telling him how gentle she could be, and if he didn’t bite her soon, he was going to be very grumpy. “I’ll always keep you safe, Buffy,” he whispered against her throat, “always protect you,” he nipped her earlobe, “always love you.”
She raked her nails through his hair and kissed him, lifting her hips faster and faster, bringing them both closer to their climax. She pulled away and looked at him in a way that almost made him cry. Almost. “So will I.”
He could hear her heart beat coming faster, feel her muscles clamping down on him and knew it was time. His demon emerged and his fangs sliced into the delicate skin of her throat and drank. She cried out and clung to him, overwrought with sensation, her muscles tensed from her toes to her shoulders as he gave her the most beautiful release she’d ever experienced. Spike moaned against her throat as he drank, tasting her strength and her weakness, her femininity and her life, feeling a connection, a bond forming, an overwhelming need to keep her forever. He gently removed his fangs and licked the wound closed and said, “Mine.”
“Yours,” she sobbed, still caught up in the throes of her orgasm. Through her lust filled haze she managed to see him arching his neck, baring the mark she’d left earlier.
As she bit down and completed the claim, Spike came inside of her, gripping her body tight against his and had no problems saying, “Yours.” Because he was, now and forever. He’d wanted nothing more than to have this, to share himself completely with another who was willing to do the same. He’d never been happier, never felt more at peace than he did at that moment and as he looked in her watery eyes, he knew she felt it too.
He stilled above her, kissing her softly, brushing her hair out of her face and smiling warmly. “You ok?”
Buffy nodded and traced the line of his cheekbones with her fingers. “More than ok.”
“Sorry I shagged you in the back seat of an SUV, luv.”
She giggled and buried her face in his shoulder. “That’s ok. It’s better than the road.”
He smiled and kissed her claim mark, chuckling when she shuddered as tingles traveled from the mark to her clit. “That’s a bloody good look for you, kitten.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, well I like mine better,” she said as she dragged her finger down the bite mark on his neck.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, “guess that neat trick goes both ways, then.” He was silent for a moment and she cocked an eyebrow. “Um, pet?”
“I’m still…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek shyly and wiggled his hips.
She felt his cock still inside her, still hard, still ready to go. She sighed blissfully and lifted her hips. “Thank god, me too.”
He waggled his eyebrows and started thrusting inside her. “Fuck, I love you, kitten.”
TBC!! [Author's Notes on temporary hiatus while dampersandspoons reevaluates her life, her dreams, her inner most fears, and most importantly: her inner child. Did you know that inner children are actually just another form of schizophrenia? I didn't either. Huh. Go figure.]
Chapter 16 by dampersandspoons
Thanks go out to Dusty273 for betaing this chapter. Thank you so much, sweetie!!
Never in a million years would Spike have guessed that things would have ended up this way. He was lying on a borrowed bed with the Slayer curled up against his side, wearing his mark on her throat and his scent between her legs and fuck, it was a beautiful day. Which was why they were indoors, consequently. ~*~*~*~
He was a thousand miles away from her hate, a thousand miles away from her friends, a thousand miles away from her past. His only fear was that when those miles decreased, when they made their way back, that somehow this spell she was under would fizzle out and then she’d regret it. Of course, having claimed her made it impossible for her to escape him, but it would tear him up inside if she ever doubted what had happened between them.
And Christ, it was the best moment of his unlife. Granted, he’d preferred if it’d happened somewhere other than the back seat of a rental car, but he more than made up for it when they arrived at the hotel. Knowing that her love for him was real, feeling it first hand through the link was too beautiful to put into words. He felt a sense of completion that he’d never dreamed could exist, as if all the years he’d spent in agony, pining for someone to love him back, were just a segue, a preparation for this woman in his arms. And he’d do it all over again. Maybe he’d refrain from trying to kill her the next time, but he knew better than that.
He smiled wickedly as he stroked her bare back. Oh, trying to kill Buffy was half the fun. He knew he’d never go through with it, even in his past he knew he never would. She was too much fun to tease and taunt to even think of offing her. Fighting her was brilliant, always had been, even when she dropped an organ on him.
“My lil’ gladiator,” he whispered against her sleeping head before placing a soft kiss on her temple.
All sorts of sinister ideas flooded his mind as he thought about the Great Git’s reaction to his claim. Should he tell him right out or make it casual as if it were no big deal? Maybe he’d take Buffy to the mall and get in one of those $2 photo booths, sit in blissfully happy poses, kissing and giggling like a bunch of wankers and mail them to the bastard. That might work…or what about an Aurelius Family Newsletter stating his claim on the Slayer?
“Stop laughing, I’m sleepy,” Buffy stirred against him.
“Sorry, pet,” he said softly and ran his hands through her hair. She made a contented noise in the back of her throat and snuggled against him, falling asleep again.
He looked at the clock on the end table and sighed. She’d have to get up soon so they could go over their plan at the caves. He didn’t know how many of those Githyans would be guarding the stone but he was looking forward to the brawl with his slayer at his side. Oh, and didn’t that image bring up what a ponce he’d become? Spike was looking forward to fighting the baddies with the Slayer! Maybe they could get matching latex suits…
“Spike, you’re poking my leg,” she grumbled as she shifted her body away from his erection.
“Could be pokin’ somethin’ else,” he said seductively.
Buffy sat up and glared at him. “God, do you ever sleep?”
“I’m antsy,” he pouted as his feet rubbed against each other beneath the covers. “Got Slayer juice coursin’ through my veins. ‘s like bloody speed.”
She was so sexy when she was grumpy. “When are you not antsy?”
He bit his lip and trailed a finger down her chest. “When I’m doin’ naughty things to you?”
It was a tiny smile, just a flash of a thing, but he saw it. Oh, she liked it all right.
“Spike,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Buffy,” he said mocking her gesture. And then he slipped his hand beneath the sheet, slowly, nearing his favorite place in the universe.
She shuddered and weakly swatted his hand. “I see what you’re doing down there,” she said coyly. “And it won’t work.”
“Oh, no?” he said innocently, batting his eyelashes as his hand crept further, ignoring her squirming as she tried to get away. When he finally made contact and felt how wet she was, he chuckled cruelly. She gasped. And it was all over. In a flash of vampire speed, Buffy was flipped onto her back and Spike was on top of her, nudging his slim hips between her thighs and nibbling on her claim mark.
“You rang?” he said considerately, rubbing her in just the right spot with the tip of his cock.
“Don’t…have time,” she weakly gasped, even though her hips rose with anticipation and her eyes fluttered shut as his tongue laved the mark on her throat, making her womb clench with desire.
“I’ll make it quick,” he whispered and without further delay, he was inside her, enveloped in tight, warm, Slayer pussy and he hissed through his teeth. “Fuck, Buffy…always so…fuck!”
“Oh, Spike,” she moaned, “please, please, please!”
She wanted him to make it quick? Abso-bloody-lutely. He hooked his hands behind her knees and pushed her legs back and started thrusting, locking his lust filled eyes with hers, drinking in the image of her sprawled out beneath him, biting her rosy red lips, pinching her own nipples and grinding her hips against his like only a Slayer could. She belonged to him! She was his, dammit! His!
“Oh, I love you,” the words tore from his throat as he increased the speed of his thrusts, pounding the headboard against the wall with every violent jerk of his hips.
She could feel his need for her through the link, his possessiveness, his eagerness, his pleasure. The combination of his senses with the sight of him above her was a heady mixture, almost overwhelming, but she remained focused on him, on his face as it contorted in bliss, on his mouth as it opened slightly to let out unneeded breaths, his arms as the muscles beneath his skin flexed as he gripped her behind her knees, his perfect abs as they rippled with every thrust of his hips.
“I’m close,” she panted, reaching her arms high above her head to claim purchase on something, anything, finally landing on the headboard and holding on to it.
He knew she was before she uttered a word, could feel it as she squeezed him, could bloody taste it she was so close. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he focused on his task, grunting as his flesh slapped against hers. She threw her head back and shouted an incoherent stream of phrases and he dropped one leg so he could touch her where they were joined, squeezing the base of his cock to hold off a little longer, and watching her body give in to him. Her skin turned pink, starting at her stomach and crawling up her chest and neck. Spike felt the pressure building inside her through the claim, watched in awe as she panted and writhed beneath him. He wrapped his arm around her leg and moved his other hand to the mattress next to her head and his demon came forward. His fangs sliced through her neck and he drank the sweetest nectar he’d ever been offered, eyes rolling back into his skull as she wailed and clawed at his back.
He growled against her neck, feeling her inner walls fluttering around his cock, her blood warming his throat, her sweat sticking to his cool skin, her pelvis slam against his as she lifted him off the bed with a powerful thrust of her hips. In a whirlwind of movement, he’d been flipped over and she sat astride his waist, bouncing on his cock and shouting the most beautiful words he’d ever heard.
“Come! Oh, Spike, come inside me!”
Licking the remnants of blood from his lips he gripped her waist and practically roared with his release, pressing his head into the pillow as his body grew taut like a bowstring, and still she moved on top of him, milking him, gripping his chest as she commanded his pleasure to last a little longer. “Yeah, Buffy…oh, fuck!”
“More, more, more!”
Her hands raked through her hair as she sat up straight, exhaling a steady stream of air through her pursed lips, green eyes locking with his before they disappeared beneath her eyelids as a second orgasm abruptly possessed her. His greedy hands rose to squeeze her breasts and she placed hers over his, her head lolling on her shoulders in ecstasy as she smiled and shouted her praise to him. She fell limp on top of him yet held him inside, not wanting to let go just yet, gasping for air as her head rolled into his throat, planting sweet kisses there.
He licked his lips as he inhaled deeply through his nose, grinning like an idiot and petting the back of her head. “An’ that is how it’s bloody well done, ladies and gents!”
She giggled and weakly lifted her head to look down on him. “I think I’ll keep him.”
“No choice in that, pet,” he said with a cocky grin before he kissed her.
“Mmm, as much as I love Spike lips, I need a shower.” She placed her finger over his lips before he could speak. “And you are staying right here.”
“Oh, come on! I’m a great shower buddy,” he pouted.
She reluctantly slid off of him and got off the bed, stretching her arms high above her head. Spike swallowed and pulled the sheets up to his nose, hiding the lecherous grin that appeared involuntarily due to her nakedness. “The only thing you’re good for in the shower we don’t have time to reenact.” She gave him a knowing glance as she bent over to retrieve the clothes she was going to wear that day.
“But I need a shower, too.” He craned his head forward, trying to peek at her luscious derriere as she dug into her suitcase.
“Don’t worry, I won’t use all the hot water,” she winked and walked into the bathroom, leaving him all by himself on the bed with the images of naked wet Slayer running through his mind. He grumbled and pounded his heels on the mattress in frustration, folding his arms across his chest. He looked down at the tent he’d made in the sheets and rolled his eyes.
“Stupid vampire stamina,” he pouted, and slid his left hand beneath the blanket to alleviate his predicament.
After they’d both showered and dressed, Spike stood behind Buffy watching her reflection in the mirror as she put on her makeup. “War paint?”
She smiled slightly, which wasn’t easy as she swiped her lips with gloss. “Complaining?”
“No, jus’ don’ understand why you’d get all dolled up before a fight.”
Buffy slid the lip gloss wand back in the tube and turned around as she twisted it closed. She grabbed one of his hands and cocked an eyebrow as she inspected his freshly painted black nails.
He rolled his eyes and yanked his hand away. “They were chipped!”
“Don’ look at me like that.”
“Oh, is the big bad Spike sensitive about his manicure?”
He clicked his tongue and glared at her.
“Where did you get nail polish anyway? I know Giles wasn’t that thoughtful when he packed your bag.”
“Nicked it from the grocery store,” he said proudly, feeling his evil persona return with that statement and smirked at her, waiting for the explosion that never came.
“Wow,” she laughed, “women and children lock your doors! An evil vampire is on the loose stealing L’oreal cosmetics! Ooooh,” she shuddered and wiggled her fingers for effect. The bint!
“Shut your gob,” he shouted. “It was Cover Girl, by the way,” he mumbled.
Buffy stared at him for a moment, blinking, before she abruptly started laughing again, singing the Cover Girl slogan. “Easy, breezy, beautiful!”
He grumbled under his breath and turned around, stomping towards his duster. “I’m goin’ out for a smoke.” He slammed the door behind him, blocking out the cackling of his mate. He chuckled quietly to himself as he lit a cigarette, shaking his head. He really should learn to keep his mouth shut. Stupid chit pounced at an opportunity to mock him as fast as he would if the shoe was on the other foot. It was partially why they were so good together.
Buffy giggled as she touched up her mascara and walked to her suitcase to pull out a map. Her face formed a stern mask of concentration, instantly switching from giddy girl in love to a focused Slayer. This wasn’t going to be easy by any means and she wanted a clear plan before they made any sudden moves. According to the map, the entrance to the cave was tight and wouldn’t allow much cover. She liked to scope a place out before an attack, get a feel of her surroundings and then solidify her plans. However, such a narrow entrance might not bode well for them to be sneaky. Even though the necklaces that Harriet gave them bought some precious time and gave them a slight advantage, the Githyans would be expecting an attack. She decided to call Giles, having just then realized how long it had been since she’d touched base with him. He might have a game plan in mind, and while she usually went with her own instincts when it came to fighting, it couldn’t hurt to hear the perspective from the man who’d trained her.
“Oh, Buffy, thank God you’re all right,” Giles said after he’d heard her voice.
“Yep, I’m fine. Sorry I haven’t called.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re in Boones Farm, Maryland.”
“Boones Farm is a dreadful wine, Buffy. It’s Boonesboro, and you’ve only just arrived there?”
“Well,” Buffy said as she bit her lip, “we ran into more Githyans.”
“Dear Lord,” he gasped, “What happened?”
Spike saved me looking like sex in denim, she thought inwardly. “Um, I was sort of hijacked, drugged, a-and then Spike rescued me and took me to some weird Linda Richman look-a-like and she gave us stinky necklaces and now we’re about to go into the Crystal Grottoes. Ooh, do you think there might be actual crystals in the caves? I’ll snag one for Willow if I find any.” Her excitement was ignored by the watcher as his mind wrapped around what she’d just told him.
“Buffy, would you mind repeating that?”
“I said I’d snag a crystal for Willow if—”
“No, not that,” he sighed. “You were drugged?
“Yeah, almost died. If it wasn’t for Spike, you’d be out of a job.”
Giles was silent for a moment though Buffy could clearly hear him pouring a glass of scotch. This news wasn’t setting well with him. “I should have come along with you.”
“Oh, I don’t think you would have wanted to do that,” she said with a nervous laugh. “But hey, look! I’m OK, Spike’s OK and now we’re going to kick some Githyan butt and save the world. No worries.”
“Your casual tone is doing nothing to calm my nerves, Buffy. What if something had happened to you? What if Spike had somehow decided to take advantage of your vulnerability and killed you?”
“But he didn’t, Giles,” she said firmly. “He…Spike’s changed,” she said simply, not wanting to explain any further what had taken place between them over the course of the past several days.
Giles laughed incredulously. “Buffy, I hope you haven’t fallen prey to his…whatever it is Spike does to lure the innocent to his fangs. He’s evil, soulless, and might I add, a master vampire who has tried countless times to end your life?”
“He’s saved my life twice in the past week, Giles! He could have killed me so many times and he didn’t.”
“Because we’re paying him, Buffy!”
“No,” she shook her head as if he could see it, “Spike isn’t in it for the money. He’s not crippled anymore, you know. He could easily go back to his old ways of stealing and gambling now.”
“Oh, well that’s comforting.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t call you to talk about how evil Spike is or isn’t so can we get to more important matters?”
With a reluctant sigh, Giles conceded. “Very well.”
“How are things there, by the way?”
“Quiet, actually. There’s been virtually no activity over the past few days. Odd, considering the demon community must have word that you’re gone.”
Buffy scratched her head and screwed her eyes shut. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, it doesn’t, but I suppose we’ll handle it when you return, assuming nothing happens before then.”
“Always with the optimism,” she said sarcastically. Speaking with Giles was only frustrating her and she didn’t think he’d be much help anyway. “You know, it’s already getting late and I should probably go over the plan with Spike.”
“Do be careful, please,” he said with concern, “and call me when you return.”
“I will.” She hung up the phone and jumped when she noticed Spike reclined against the wall. She hadn’t even heard him come in. “God, Spike! David Copperfield, much?”
Spike smiled at her warmly, not paying any attention to what she’d said. “Thanks, Slayer.”
“For standin’ up to Rupes for me.”
“Oh,” she blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears. “You heard that?”
“Yeah,” he bit his lip and then said in mock seriousness, “But I am in it for the money.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to the map. “We have more important things to discuss, Vampire. Like this stupid cave with only one entrance.”
Spike peered over her shoulder thoughtfully and then pointed to a tiny area on the map she hadn’t noticed. “What’s that?”
She turned around and smiled at him beatifically. “That,” she said with a quick kiss to his lips, “is our way in!”
“See? ‘m useful,” he smirked. “Although, it’ll be a bit tricky gettin’ in that way.”
“How do you figure?”
Spike’s fašade transformed into that of a little boy, full of excitement. “The entrance is 80 feet above ground! We’ll have to rappel down.”
“You watch way too many action movies.”
“Oi! I saw the harnesses and ropes in the back seat. Might as well use ‘em!”
Buffy shook her head with a smile and folded up her map and started grabbing their gear. “Ok, 007, let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter 17 by dampersandspoons
Sawyer came up with a clever nickname for his heavyset friend, the Dharma Initiative revealed that it is in fact a temporal plane of existence, Spike and Buffy had sex, Buffy stood up for Spike, there was talk of James Bond, no one mentioned if it was the Sean Connery version, Timothy Dalton or Roger Moore but it was understood that no one cared about Pierce Brosnan. Timmy fell down a well, an Earthquake in the ocean set off a Tsunami, and Estelle Getty died. There was also a wicked-sweet establishing shot of the grand canyon with the sounds of coyotes howling in the background but no one cared because we've seen it before. Up next: Find out if that cave is a metaphor for a vagina!
“Are you ready?”
“’Course ‘m ready. Got the bleedin’ harness on five minutes before you did.”
“I didn’t know it was a race.”
“It’s always a race.”
“Silly me, how could I forget that while we’re trying to save the world, you’d be using that time to keep points.”
“An’ I’m 2 and 0 so far.”
“Yeah,” Spike sniffed and attached his bole rope to the waist of his harness. “First one to put on the harness an’ first one in.”
“What are you…dammit Spike, wait for me!” Buffy hurriedly attached her ropes and stealthily edged towards the opening of the cave. “You forgot the weapons!”
His slowly descending form called up to her, “You’re strong. You get ‘em.”
“You’re strong, you get ‘em,” she muttered under her breath in a horrible cockney accent.
“I don’ sound like that!”
After slinging both of their weapons packs over her shoulders, she quickly descended, trying to catch up to him. “Oh, you waited for me, how nice.”
He hung casually and smiled at her as she came down to his level. “You know, you’re awfully cute in your getup, luv. Look like Spider Girl danglin’ from the ceilin’,” he leered.
She rolled her eyes and they continued to slowly descend into the cave. “This is way more than 80 feet above ground,” she said warily, ignoring him.
“Took a guess, luv. Not exactly an expert. It can’t be more than 100 feet.”
“Let’s hope not. Oooh, pretty!” The further down they went, the cave revealed a gorgeous cavern of crystalline stalactites and stalagmites.
“Raccoon,” he teased.
“I’m not a raccoon! What does that even mean?”
“Fascinated by shiny objects,” he said plainly and kicked one foot out to touch her on the thigh. “Next, you’ll be eatin’ crabs with your claw-like hands.”
“You are so weird.”
“Come here,” he said cheekily, kicking her on the thigh again.
“Spike,” she sighed, swaying to and fro on her rope. “We’re a good 40 feet above ground, hanging from ropes and you’re thinking about sex?”
He scoffed, looking incredibly offended. “I’m good, but I’m not that good, luv. Wanted a kiss,” he pouted.
She smiled bashfully. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. But you don’t get one now.” He smirked and hurriedly descended the remaining 40 feet. “That’s 3 and 0, Slayer!” he shouted from the ground.
“Stupid vampire,” she mumbled and quickly lowered herself to the ground. Spike, of course, had already removed his harness and had a cigarette lit, dangling from his arrogant smirk. He bent forward with an oomph when she threw his weapons pack at his stomach after she’d angrily removed her harness. “You big meanie.”
“I’m a big meanie?” His face twisted in disgust as he used her girly vernacular. “Who’s tryin’ to knock the wind out of who with their angry weapons tossin’?”
“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly and kissed him on the cheek. As she tried to turn away, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her towards him.
Cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth he sneered and said, “Not lettin’ you get away so easily.” With his free hand he plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and crashed his lips against hers, pulling away only when she needed to take in air. Once he did, the cigarette was back in the game and he inhaled with a cocked eyebrow, proud of the daze he’d put her in. “What’s the matter, pet? Cat got your tongue?” She panted and tried to grab for him again but he’d twirled away with a flourish of leather and stalked towards the cave entrance. “Come on, slow poke, or it’ll be 4 and 0.”
She let out a frustrated growl and stomped after him. “I’ll show you slow poke!” Once she’d caught up to him, he abruptly stuck out his hand to quiet her as he peered through the cave. “What is it?”
He shook his head, still focusing on a nondescript area of the dark tunnel and then gestured for her to come up beside him. She crept up carefully, trying to get a sense of what he was seeing but couldn’t place it. He turned towards her and pressed a pointed finger against his lips, shushing her, and took a predatory step further into the cave, silently moving in further. Her heart started beating faster and she followed after him, wishing he’d just tell her what he thought he’d found, but trusting his instincts to not say a word.
The more ground they covered in the tunnel, the darker it became and it was getting difficult for Buffy to see her surroundings. Spike was silent as he prowled forward and if it wasn’t for his platinum hair, she’d never be able to figure out where he was. As soon as she had that thought, it became pitch black and she lost sight of him completely. Slowly starting to freak out, Buffy fumbled in her pack to locate a flash light, unable to move or she might seriously injure herself from the uneven ground of the cave floor, afraid to speak in case he’d seen the enemy that he was tracking and would alert it that they were following. Just as her fingers curled around the hilt of a flashlight, something grabbed her by the waist and pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her screaming.
She would have retaliated had she not been instantly aware of who it was once his cool breath tickled the side of her neck as he whispered, “Should be more careful, pet. All sorts of…nasty little things go bump in the night.” He lowered his mouth to the claim mark on her neck and licked it. She smiled against his hand and pressed her back into his chest, shivering as his free hand trailed up her stomach, over the thin cotton of her shirt and finally landed on her breast, using the inside of his thumb and forefinger to gently tweak a hard nipple. “Someone isn’ wearin’ a bra,” he said huskily.
She removed his hand from her mouth and turned in his arms, looking up to where she assumed his face was since it was so dark. “Yeah, well that’s your fault. You ruined all of mine.”
“Pity, that.” He continued to pinch and caress her nipples, almost distracting her to the point that she couldn’t speak. Almost.
“Did you really see something or were you just trying to lure me into your trap?”
“Saw an opportunity,” he whispered against her lips and then slid a hand down the front of her jeans, “an’ I took it.”
“Thought I told you never to wear jeans again,” he said with a commanding tone as he stroked her through her panties.
“You…never said that,” she gasped.
“Well, ‘m sayin’ it now. Fancy a quickie before we make a mess of those wankers?”
He was doing that thing with his fingers, that tortuous thing that made her tingle from her head to her toes, nipping on her lips and rubbing against her. “Spike…we should,” she breathed.
“Oh, I know we should,” he leered, dragging her panties aside to insert a finger inside of her.
“Vampires!” she shouted, pushing him away and reaching for a stake.
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me!” he roared, sensing at least two of them coming their way. “Get your flashlight, luv an’ stay close!”
Buffy clicked on her flashlight and shined it towards the two demons that were snarling and heading towards them. She heard Spike’s bones crunching as his demon came forward and he lunged, brandishing a stake from his pack and dusting one with expertise before he grabbed the second by the collar of his shirt and head-butted him. He turned to face Buffy, holding the now limp vampire up by his shirt and said, “Your Githyans makin’ nice with the demon world, pet?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug.
Spike shook his head and dusted the vamp, scowling. “This doesn’ bode well for us, kitten.”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a couple of vamps, Spike.”
Spike pursed his lips, which was impressive considering the fangs, and his eyes darted around the low ceiling of the cave, moving about quickly until he’d located what he was looking for. He found a root sticking out of the ceiling and he yanked it free, tore off a bit of his shirt and wrapped the end of the root with the scraps, pulled out his Zippo and said, “Come on, Slayer, use your head.” He clicked the lighter open and lit the end of his make-shift torch and started walking further into the cave with a confused Slayer hot on his heels.
“What is it?” Spike ignored her, however, and she could feel through the claim that he was royally pissed. If it weren’t for her slayer speed, she’d have one hell of a time keeping up with the vampire who was now trudging along quickly through the caves. “Spike, tell me what’s going on in that thick skull of yours!”
He stopped abruptly and turned towards her, his eyes glowing amber as the torch light flickered beneath them. “Those were guards, pet. Henchmen.”
“Ok, so the Githyans got a few vamps to work for them. What’s the big?”
He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Henchmen work for vamps, pet. Not other demons.”
“Ohhh,” she drawled with realization.
“Yeah,” he nodded with irritation, “now you’re gettin’ it.” He turned around again and started walking, a bit slower this time. Buffy studied his face, realizing that his demon visage was just as expressive as his human form. He knew something that he wasn’t telling her and it was starting to piss her off. Before she could call him on it, however, they came to their destination, stopping abruptly in the middle of a large clearing that was illuminated with torches. The eerie thing was, not a single Githyan was there. It was as if everyone had packed up and left.
Spike chucked his torch on the ground with an angry roar, pacing the floor with a sardonic smile.
“Spike, if you don’t start talking right now, I’m gonna—”
“You’re gonna what, tell him how much you love him and give him the worst lay of his life?”
Buffy and Spike slowly turned towards the third voice, coming to face the cocky grin of one Liam Angelus. Buffy bristled, Spike snarled and Angelus laughed.
“You two are too cute! Look at your little back packs!”
Spike cracked his neck and stepped forward. “What in the sodding hell are you doin’ here?”
Buffy was busying herself with her weapons, getting ready for an attack while Angelus leaned casually against a cave wall, smiling like the prick he was. “Better yet, how did you get here so fast,” Buffy asked as she stood next to her mate, holding an axe in one hand and a stake in the other. She handed Spike the axe and he smiled appreciatively.
Angelus pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder and said nonchalantly, “Airplane. You should look into it.”
“I liked the pilot,” a silken voice echoed as it drew closer. “He was so sparkly.” Drusilla, dressed in a black velvet dress and wearing a pilot’s cap slinked her long alabaster arms around Angelus and grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder. Buffy growled.
“Oh, Dru,” Angelus cooed, “we had fun at LAX, didn’t we?”
“Naughty pilot,” she pouted, “Didn’t want to take his big bird in the sky filled with all our friends.” It was then that she finally noticed Spike and she stood straight and practically floated towards him, ignoring the blonde girl who was about ready to kick some vampire ass. “My Spike…you’re all better now.”
Spike flinched as her hand touched his face.
“Don’t touch my stuff!” Buffy shouted and pushed her away forcefully, causing the vampire to stumble on her heels. She quickly righted herself and frowned, looking as if she were about to tear the girl to pieces.
Spike held Buffy still by the arms and whispered in her ear, “Careful, kitten. Let’s find out what the great git is doin’ here before we start with the fists, yeah?” She huffed and folded her arms. “But you’re sexy as hell when you’re jealous,” he thought it important to mention. His good humor faltered however, as his sire looked at him with sad eyes. She knew. He turned away from her, hoping that she’d keep her mouth shut. Luckily, Buffy’s inability to handle awkward silences saved him for the time being.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m getting antsy, and when I get antsy, I get stakey. Where are the Githyans?!”
“Gone,” Angelus shrugged.
Spike didn’t like this casual meeting, not one bit. He knew his grandsire well enough to know that he was up to something, and it wasn’t good. “What do you mean, gone?”
“Telepathy’s an interesting thing,” he answered as he braved a step forward. “Those Githyans took one look into Dru’s mind and they all went crazy.”
“I don’t like them creeping and crawling into my head,” she said as she placed her hands on her temples. “Tried to get in, tried to take away the pixies, but I didn’t let them.”
“I tried to be civil,” Angelus sighed, “wanted to go into business with them but,” he laughed, “turns out the stupid idiots can’t handle a little old fashioned schizophrenia. So I guess…” He pulled out the stone of Tir’Suk from his coat and sneered. “I’m the one to reap the benefits.”
“Do you have any idea what that thing does?” Spike shouted.
“Oh yeah,” he smiled. “I was working on my own form of world domination when I caught wind from your watcher of what you two were doing up here. I kinda like the idea of the Astral Plane opening up and unleashing hell on earth. Had a nice ring to it.”
“What did you do to Giles,” Buffy said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, don’t worry about ol’ Rupes. No harm in eavesdropping, is there?’ He was close enough now that Angelus’ eyebrow rose when he caught a whiff of something that did not please him. “You claimed her?”
“Bad doggie,” Dru pouted.
Spike placed a protective hand on Buffy’s shoulder and smiled. “Yeah. Turns out you’ve got a small…what is it you called it, luv?”
“A tiny thingie,” she smiled, remembering their conversation in the car when they were bitching about their exes.
Spike chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what it was. Knew you had a cute nickname for it.”
Angelus vamped out, not at all happy with the insults. “You’d do well to watch your mouth, boy.”
“I like his mouth,” Buffy said plainly. “It’s part of what gave me this.” She brushed her hair away from her neck to expose her claim mark proudly. “Oh, and there’s a few more you can’t see, either.”
Spike wished she’d quit talking like that or he was going to have to drag her away to a private location and show her how hard she’d made him with those beautiful words. But first, he had vampires to contend with.
“Can we play now, Daddy? Can we?” Dru clapped and flitted about the cave.
Spike and Buffy drew closer.
“Oh, yeah. We can play,” he snarled and then shouted, “Go get ‘em, boys!”
On cue, a mass of vampires filed into the room from all sides and surrounded the two blonds in the large clearing of the cave.
Buffy stood with her back to Spike and said over her shoulder, “What was that score again?”
He smiled and raised his axe. “3 and 0 so far. Oh wait, there were two in the cave, so…5 and 0.”
“Right,” she raised a stake, “time to catch up and show you how it’s done.”
“Oh, it’s fucking on, Slayer!”
They both grinned, backs pressed against one another, bodies buzzing with anticipation, weapons raised, and waited for the vampires to advance.
A/N: WHO WILL WIN THE VAMPIRE KILLING COMPETITION? WILL ANGELUS AND DRUSILLA SUCCEED IN BRINGING FORTH THE APOCALYPSE? COULD THE STONE OF TIR'SUK BE HARDER TO PRONOUNCE? JUST WHAT HAPPENED TO THOSE DARN GITHYANS? IS SCHIZOPHRENIA A LONG FORGOTTEN DISEASE OR IS IT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION? DID MISS EDITH FLY COACH OR FIRST CLASS? HOW MANY TINY BOTTLES OF LIQUOR DOES IT TAKE TO GET A VAMPIRE DRUNK? ARE PEANUTS A GREAT SNACK OR A CHEAP ALTERNATIVE TO POTATO CHIPS? FIND OUT NEXT TIME WHEN DAMPERSANDSPOONS WRITES ANOTHER CHAPTER AND POSTS IT, AND THEN YOU READ IT AND HAVE YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED.
Chapter 18 by dampersandspoons
WHO WILL WIN THE VAMP KILLING CONTEST? WILL THE WINNER GET PIE? WHO CARES ABOUT WARNINGS? WHAT'S A FIVE LETTER WORD FOR THE TERM "OVEN MITT"? SERIOUSLY, I'M DOING A CROSSWORD PUZZLE RIGHT NOW.
THERE IS EXTREME VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER AND IT IS BORDERLINE INDiANA JONES IN PARTS EXCEPT WITHOUT THOSE SILLY NAZIS. IF INDIANA JONES AND VIOLENCE BOTHER YOU, THEN YOU ARE A WEAKLING. AND ALSO PROBABLY MY MOTHER.
Chapter 18* * *
“Fifteen, Slayer,” Spike shouted cockily over his shoulder as he dusted his next vamp.
“Shut up, Spike!” Buffy was pissed. She’d only killed ten. Stupid bragging vampire! She did a back flip to gain some momentum as she advanced on a group of vampires, kicking two in the face and she twisted her body to land on her feet, staking them simultaneously. “I’m catching up! Twelve!”
There were so many of them that neither the slayer nor the vampire had time to determine where Angelus and Dru had gone, though it was obvious they’d run off, leaving their minions to make short work of the blonde team. However, Buffy and Spike were having too much fun with the brawl that they didn’t seem to care that they were highly out numbered. Until the second rank came barreling through.
“Fall back,” Spike shouted as he neared the tunnel they’d come through. As Buffy moved to meet him, she punched a vampire in his face while she twirled around and staked the one coming up behind her.
“A little crowded over here!” She was surrounded and Spike wouldn’t be able to get to her through the mass of snarling demons so she used the crowd to her advantage, jumped in the air and placed one foot on the shoulder of a vampire, hoisted herself up and shouted, “You better be ready to catch my ass if I fall, Spike!”
He turned towards her just as he’d twisted off the head of his sixteenth kill and realized what she was about to do. “Just like a Minor Threat concert, luv! Don’t be afraid to body surf through the mosh pit!” He laughed, but she wasn’t amused as she used vampire heads and shoulders to run across, kicking a few in the nose when they moved to grab her. When she came to the clearing, she jumped to the ground, not missing a beat and ran towards Spike.
“There’s too many, we’ve gotta jet. NOW!”
They ran as fast as they could back through the tunnels, Buffy carrying a torch she snagged from the wall to illuminate her path, picking up speed when they heard the vampires pressing forward behind them.
“We’ve got to find Dru and Angelus,” Buffy said as they leapt and darted through the tunnels. An idea struck her and she pulled something out of her utility bag.
“Right you are, luv. But now, I’m a bit more concerned with the mass of vampires on our tail!”
Buffy stopped just as they got to the cavern where they’d dropped in. “You go ahead and get your harness on. I’ll hold them back.”
“Buffy, don’ be an idiot. Now get your cute lil’ ass in a harness an’ let’s go!”
“Spike, just trust me!”
“There are hundreds of them, Buffy! Come on!”
She smiled wickedly and said, “I’m about to win this contest.” She held up an empty gas can, one she’d been leaking behind her as they ran. Spike’s eyes grew wide as she raised her torch in the air. “Now get moving, Spike!”
“Oh, shit,” he said and frantically began climbing his rope. “You crazy bitch! I love you!”
Buffy smiled and turned around, waiting for the vampires to get closer. She saw their shadows dancing on the tunnel wall just to the side of the open cavern and she quickly put her harness on and tossed the torch onto the trailing puddle of gasoline, igniting it instantly. The flames quickly moved towards the tunnel and just as the pained screams of vampires echoed through the cavern, Buffy attached her harness to the rope and started climbing.
“God, I love that noise,” she grinned, quickly catching up with Spike.
“Never knew you had it in you, Slayer, I’m impressed.”
“Don’t fuck with me when I’m trying to save the world!”
Spike laughed loudly at her rare usage of the f-word and found himself incredibly turned on by it. He looked down at her and frowned as he saw her swinging from side to side. “Buffy, mind tellin’ me what the sodding hell you’re doin’ when we should be gettin’ out of here?”
“Hang on…just a little further…” she strained to say as she swung towards a cavern wall, her hand outstretched. Once she’d claimed purchase on what she was reaching for, she yanked something loose and shouted, “Got it!” She hurriedly climbed up the rope, taking Spike’s proffered hand and let him hoist her out of the hole.
“What were you doing?”
She held up a large purple crystal. “Souvenir for Willow,” she shrugged her shoulders and furrowed her brow, as if he should have known better and pushed past him to undo her harness.
“Strange bird,” he muttered and lit a cigarette as they ran to the SUV. Once they were inside the car, Spike revved the engine and peeled out.
“Where are you going?”
“Front entrance, pet. That’s the only way Captain Wanker and Tinker bell could’ve escaped. If they aren’t there, might pick up a trail at least.”
Buffy twisted in her seat and leaned between them to rummage through the back. Spike groaned as her ass swayed inches from his face. “An’ what are you doin’?”
She sat back down with a smile and cocked a cross bow as she rolled down her passenger window. “Picking off the enemy.” She leaned her torso out of the window and aimed her cross bow at a few vampires running out of the caves. Some were in flames, some were just screaming. She aimed and fired, catching one right in the heart and sending him to his dusty end. Spike laughed maniacally and pounded his fists on the steering wheel in excitement. He’d never had this much fun in his un-life, and his girl, his mate, was taking them out like fish in a barrel, easy as you please. He handed her another stake to load her cross bow as he drove up to the entrance. She successfully dusted another and Spike leapt out of the car, leaving it idling in case they needed a quick getaway.
In full game face, Spike jumped into the fray, mindful of the burning ones and focused on the non-firey vampires, snarling and punching everything in his path. Between the two of them, they easily took out the few remaining demons. Spike had stopped counting his kills. No way was he catching up with her last trick.
Panting and winded, they searched the premises for any clues.
“Tire tracks,” Spike said when he’d spotted something on the ground and sniffed the air. “That’s them all right. They’re using the Githyans’ van.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
“I want to drive, Daddy!”
“Dru, for the last time! Shut up about the damn car!”
“Ooh,” she pouted, folding her arms over her chest, “you never let me have any fun.”
Angelus’ jaw ticked and he squeezed the steering wheel. “Why don’t you have fun in the back with our little friend?”
“He smells like magic and he looks at me with such anger. I don’t like him.”
“You…but…” Angelus roared and slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. “This is the last time I take you anywhere! ‘I want a Githyan, Daddy! Can we keep him?’ And I tie him up all nice and neat for you and now you don’t even want him?”
Meanwhile, the Githyan in question groaned in pain as he tried desperately not to listen to their bickering as well as guarding his brain from exploding should he dare tap into the mind of the crazy woman in the front seat.
“I wanted the other one with the funny teeth. Reminds me of my Spike,” she said sadly.
“Yeah, well, your precious Spike just claimed himself a slayer.”
“Naughty! Bad doggie! We will make him pay, Daddy. We will bring him home and make him suffer for what he’s done.”
Angelus shook his head. As pleasant a thought it was to torture his child for daring to claim a slayer and lie to him, he didn’t think the capturing would be as easy as Dru thought, not with that blonde bitch at his side. “If you don’t want your toy, you deal with it now. I’m not lugging his scrawny ass all the way back to L.A., so you can just forget it!”
“Ooh!” She huffed and climbed out of the passenger seat and walked to the back of the van, mumbling under her breath. “My dress will get all dirty and Miss Edith will be very cross for having ruined such a pretty tea party dress.” She yanked the back doors open and the Githyan’s eyes grew wide in fear. “Daddy never gets me the right presents,” she grabbed the Githyan by his hair and pulled him out of the van. “You aren’t what I wanted. You smell funny and I don’t like your eyes.” The Githyan struggled to break free of his restraints to no avail as Drusilla dragged him along the asphalt.
“Long teeth, long hair, long arms, long death,” she giggled and coiled her fingers into claws as she snarled at him like a rabid dog. She danced around his body and pulled out a switch blade, skipping and humming to herself. “Your eyes go first!” She carved one out and the Githyan screamed while Drusilla methodically removed his eyeball. “No more pretty lights, no more sad sights. Off with the other one!”
“Dru! Hurry it up out there,” Angelus shouted from the driver’s window.
She pouted and stomped one foot. “But I haven’t made him pretty for the party! He’s got too many teeth and I don’t like his smile.”
“Hurry. Up!” he growled and Drusilla cowered at the commanding tone of her sire.
“Daddy is very angry with you,” she whispered to the Githyan. “I’ll need an axe!” she shouted and ran towards her sire who’d angrily thrust an axe towards her through the window of the van. “Thank you, Daddy.” She skipped back to her victim and smiled sweetly at him. “No more.” And with a growl, she hoisted the axe in the air and brought it down swiftly, beheading the demon. As soon as she’d kicked the head away, a flash of headlights beamed at them from down the road.
“Ohhhh,” she said excitedly, curling her shoulders upwards and giggling, “Daddy will be very cross now.” She twirled in a circle, holding the axe in one hand and laughed.
“Drusilla!” Angelus, now pissed beyond belief, got out of the van and stomped towards her, not paying any attention to the advancing SUV. “Get in the van!”
“It’s coming, Daddy! Coming! Coming! Com—”
Her voice was cut off by a shhhhnickt and she exploded into dust. Angelus roared and turned towards the screeching SUV that was coming to a stop, a blonde slayer leaning out of the passenger window and loading her crossbow with another stake.
Angelus bolted towards her and she fired, catching him in the shoulder. He pulled the stake out and smiled wickedly. “Missed.”
“I won’t miss next time,” she said with determination and leapt out the window.
Spike, however, was stunned speechless, sitting in the driver’s seat as he looked in the direction of his disintegrated sire, taking unneeded breaths as he was overwhelmed with loss. Not a loss of his lover, his dark princess who’d been his world for a century, but the loss any vampire would feel should their sire turn to dust. As it was, he couldn’t move.
“You killed my child,” Angelus sneered and punched Buffy in the face.
“And I’m about to kill you,” she retaliated with a powerful kick to his jaw. “Spike! Get your ass out here!”
“Tell me,” he said mockingly as he blocked her next punch, “how was it getting laid by a disabled vamp?”
“Amazing,” she spat and swept his legs out from underneath him with a low kick, “the best night of my life,” she jumped on top of him and pinned his arms beneath her, “and better than anything you’d ever done.”
Angelus used all his strength to roll them over, which he did successfully and placed his meaty hands around her throat and squeezed. His fangs were inches from her face when he said, “Lights out, now, Slayer.”
“Sp-sp…” she sputtered, trying to scream Spike’s name but couldn’t as Angelus bore down on her trachea with his iron grip.
“Sp-sp-sp, what? What’s that, Slayer? It’s like your lips are moving, but I can’t hear what you’re saying. Was that…sp-spare me my life? Or…sp-sp-speaking of dying, I’m about to?” As Buffy’s vision blurred and her lungs struggled to take in air, she saw a black boot come into view and kick Angelus right in the face, sending him flying off of her. She rolled over and gasped for air, watching as Spike roared and attacked his grandsire with a ferocity she’d never seen before.
The two master vampires rolled and clawed, sliced and bit at one another, growling like a pack of wild dogs and Buffy crawled along the grass, reaching for her cross bow, still recovering from the choke hold her ex boyfriend had her in. She lifted the cross bow as she lay on her back, following their movements to make sure she didn’t hit the wrong vamp. Rolling her eyes as they continued to roll around on the ground, she shouted, “Spike! Off!”
He lifted his yellow eyes to her and smiled, quickly pushing himself off of Angelus and Buffy fired, landing her stake right on the money and Angelus was no more. She collapsed on her back and tossed her cross bow aside, rubbing her shoulder that she just realized was dislocated.
“You all right luv?” Spike said as he hovered over her, fresh cigarette in his mouth.
She didn’t know, really. She’d just killed Angel. And she felt... “Yeah. Oddly, I’m fine. You?”
He shrugged a little and helped her to stand. “Was a bit off there for a minute, but I’m ok. Sorry I left you hangin’ there for a while.”
“It’s ok,” she smiled and walked towards the van. “Let’s make sure the stone is here and then we can go.”
“Right,” he said sadly, feeling through the link that she wasn’t being completely honest with him. He knew he’d disappointed her with the Dru bit, but she should know that blood affected vamps more than just a quick meal. He supposed they’d talk about it later, but right now, they had to save the world.
A/N: Oh yeah, character death! (I hate seeing that on stories. It SPOILS IT. SPOILERS!!!)
Chapter 19 by dampersandspoons
This chapter is dedicated to Henri because she's asked me about this fic like, fifty times. And by fifty, I mean...four. The difference is huge, but the meaning? It hits me right here. *points to heart*
Thanks go to Dusty273 for her help with the edits and sorry for the delay, but as you can see from the surge of posts, the inspiration is back!
“Well, that was a bit anticlimactic,” Spike said with a strange expression as Buffy placed the newly disenchanted stone in her bag. She’d barely said a word to him when they returned to the hotel to recite the disenchantment spell and he was sensing that she was still pissed off with him. This was new territory for Spike because before he’d fallen for the Slayer, he might have intentionally pushed her buttons just to get her angry. Now, though, her reactions might not be as charming as they used to be, mainly because her anger was stemmed from something more, something deeper than mutual irritation of one’s enemy. Now she was mad at him, because he’d hurt her. And not in the fun way.
She’d gone to the bathroom, successfully locking him out as she took a shower to get ready for bed and Spike had absolutely no idea what to do. Silence he wasn’t prepared for. Being ignored hurt worse than any mean jibe she could send his way and though he’d initially been shocked, upset, and even felt a profound sense of loss when she killed Drusilla, those feelings were gone now. Replaced with a strange sense of relief that he no longer had to try to gain his sire’s affections, didn’t have to play second fiddle to Angelus, was no longer going to be their whipping boy for amusement and an object to vent their frustrations upon. He hated admitting that with Angelus out of the picture, perhaps any ties Buffy felt to him were gone, too. It was just the two of them now.
He’d never been part of something before, at least not anything worth speaking of like he was with Buffy. With Drusilla, sure, they were one hell of a team spanning the globe and causing impressive amounts of mayhem and destruction. But that was part of his nature, not part of something bigger. With Buffy, not only did he finally find someone that loved him and treated him as an equal, but he felt a sense of accomplishment that he never thought possible before.
He’d sneered and made fun and scoffed at the very idea of being a white hat, helping save the world and all that nonsense. But with Buffy at his side, fighting his own kind, he’d gotten a thrill he hadn’t felt since bagging his first Slayer. Kind of ironic when he thought about it, but Spike had long ago learned not to question the sarcastic bitch that life was.
And worse, at least to his nature, he was starting to crave those feelings of achievement. He wanted to be by her side, eating donuts with her stupid mates and doing research and fighting the evils of the world and then of course, shagging her against the nearest surface once the rush of winning filled them to bursting. Something he’d really like to do at the moment but was denied for some reason that he couldn’t find a way fix. Didn’t know how to. With Dru, he’d buy her a dolly or give her some pretty thing to feed on and he’d be right as rain with her in no time. If she was especially angry, he’d tie her up and torture her until she loved him again, just like her Daddy used to do to her. Spike would have done anything to make her happy, no matter how it might have affected him, and all that loyalty that he felt for over a century had been shifted towards a girl who should be his enemy in a matter of days.
And now he was angry. Didn’t she know how much he’d changed for her? How much more he was willing to sacrifice just to be next to her, just to feel that sense of connection that he never thought he’d find? He’d been bagging it for a week now. Hadn’t fed on a single human in the time they’d been together. And he could have! Could have ripped the throat out of the clerk at the convenience store when he bought her soup and stuffed kitties and candy and…oh, God. Spike bought stuffed kitties and candy for the sodding slayer without batting an eye. Or bashing in any skulls in the process!
What the hell had happened to him? This behavior of his went against the grain, took all his strength to suppress. At first. Fuck, his rep was buggered in the demon world now, for sure. At least he had the honor of being the sole survivor of the Aurelius line, making him top dog. Sense of pride in that, wasn’t there?
“You keep doing that and you’ll dig a trench in the carpet.” She’d come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white towel, skin all dewy and delicious.
Spike stopped in his tracks, just then realizing he’d been pacing like a caged animal. “Was thinking,” he said, squaring his shoulders and looking impassive.
She shrugged and walked past him to the phone, sitting down on the edge of the bed as she started dialing a number.
“Who’re you callin’ at this hour?”
“Giles,” she said as she looked at the floor.
Well, fine. If she was going to keep up the silent treatment, Spike was going out for a smoke. Slamming the hotel door behind him, he walked outside and lit one up, giving the sky an angry pout as he exhaled. Women. He was already placing bets on not getting laid that night and being saddled up in the bath with his left hand and a mess of discontent. What was the point of a claim if he couldn’t read her thoughts? The claim was still new, a weakling of a thing, barely giving him glimpses of her emotions and those were few and far between. It would strengthen in time, but now it was just frustrating. He wondered if she could sense him. If she did, why the hell was she ignoring him? He was upset, too, dammit! Vamp or no, he had feelings!
He flicked his cigarette into the parking lot and walked back inside, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her hang up the phone and rise from the bed. He wasn’t going to be the first one to talk. He wasn’t. Could be just as stubborn as she was. Nope, not saying a bloody word.
“How long are you going to ignore me?” Dammit!
“What are you talking about?” she asked him as she rummaged through her bag, still ignoring him.
He let out a sharp sigh. “You. Ignoring me since the caves.”
She found a pair of cotton shorts and a cami and clutched them to her chest as she stood up and faced him. “I haven’t been ignoring you. I’m just tired after the fight.”
He pursed his lips as he watched her pull her shorts up, her towel still wrapped around her body. So she was hiding, now, too? “You’re tired.”
“Yup.” She turned around and dropped her towel to put on her cami. Once it was on, she turned back around and flinched slightly at his hard expression. “What?”
“You know, I have seen those before,” he said, gesturing to her breasts with a nod of his head and took a step forward. “A few times, actually.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed her hair brush to work out the wet tangles in her hair. “Just say what’s on your mind, Spike. I’m tired.”
“What’s on my mind?” he shouted, flinging his arms in the air at the ridiculousness of her statement. “You really want to know?”
Folding her arms across her chest, one hand clutching the hair brush and glaring at him, she said, “Yeah. Why don’t you tell me and get it over with.”
He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “Look, I know you’re pissed about Dru,” he said evenly, a small victorious smile creeping up on his face when she averted her eyes and started brushing her hair a little too hard. “Oh, that’s right,” he narrowed his eyes, “you don’t like it when Spike can read you like a book. But it was a bloody riot when you could read my thoughts, wasn’t it?”
“What do you want me to say, Spike?”
He clenched his jaw and stood right in front of her, blocking her from avoiding him any further. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. You of all people should know that vamps are connected by blood. I spent a hundred and twenty years with the bint and you’re pissed that I felt something for her when she died! You’d be pissed either way.”
“If I didn’t feel a thing, then you’d call me a soulless vampire who had no emotions whatsoever. I’d be ridiculed for not reacting, making you think that what I feel for you wasn’t real. I can’t win either way, so what’s the point?”
He got her there. She looked ashamedly at the floor. “You’re right.”
“And you know what? I’ve completely disregarded my nature for you, helped you fight the big fight, saved your hide more than once on this trip and…” he paused, tilting his head as he said, “Did you just say I’m right?”
She shyly looked up at him. “I’m not repeating it if that’s what you’re after.” She smiled softly and looked back at the floor and said quietly, “I’m not mad at you, it’s just…is it wrong that I didn’t feel anything when I killed Angel?”
His eyes widened with sudden realization. She wasn’t mad at him. She was mad at herself, the human who was supposed to have feelings and emotions and thought she had been in love at one point with the man she killed. Spike had felt something, and she didn’t. Spike, the vampire, the thing she was born to hate. With a heavy sigh, he brought one hand to her cheek and offered a kind smile.
“Buffy. You feel more than anyone I know, anyone I’ve ever known. You try so hard to do the right thing, to make everyone around you happy.” He kissed her forehead, relieved when she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest.
“But I loved him. Didn’t I?”
He tried to quash the jealousy that rose within him at that, knowing that she was his now. Barely succeeding, he said, “I can’t answer that. If you don’t know, then maybe you never did.”
“I did,” she nodded against him. She’d been beating herself up for hours over the fact that she didn’t feel a damn thing for killing Angel, jealous and guilty that Spike had, when she’d accused him of being unable to feel anything. The contradictions were giving her a headache and she was afraid to talk to Spike about it, afraid that he’d say, “I told you so,” or hold it against her. But he hadn’t. “Just not…not like this.”
If her head wasn’t smothered by his chest, he would have kissed her lights out for that, but instead, he held her tighter, inhaling her scent. He was relieved that he wasn’t in the dog house and wouldn’t have to grovel for forgiveness. It was kind of nice, actually. Strange, yes. Wouldn’t count on it happening again, since he had a nasty habit of inserting his boot in his mouth and pissing the birds off. But he was thankful that for once, his significant other was upset with something that had nothing to do with him. “It’s ok, you know. Maybe you’re in shock or something. Was a big day and all. Settin’ vamps on fire, stealin’ crystals, lookin’ cute as hell. Must be exhausting.”
She giggled and looked up at him. “Such is the life of a slayer.”
He kissed her smiling face, unable to resist contact with her gorgeous mouth any longer and pulled away, leaving her panting and glassy eyed. “So you aren’t mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad at you. Sorry I was all avoidy,” she said, leaning in for another kiss but he backed away from her, shooting a warm smile her way.
“Come talk to me while I’m in the shower? Covered in battle grime, here.”
She nodded dumbly and followed him into the bathroom, then sat on the sink counter while he undressed. As he stepped beneath the spray and closed his eyes, she felt that awesome tightening in her chest and stomach that seemed to happen only when he was around. She could watch him do this for hours, she decided. The way he worked up a lather and slowly smeared his chest with fluffy, white bubbles that trailed down his front as the water trickled down and kissed every sinful curve of his body was enough to make her come just looking at him. Then he turned his back to the water and leaned his head back, straining his neck muscles and showing off the lines of his jugular and Adam’s apple. Great Zeus’ lightning, she’d snagged a hot man for a mate. As her eyes took the natural course down his body, she blushed that he was half hard. As if sensing her arousal, he said, “Know you’re lookin’.”
“Shut up,” she said with a giggle, biting her lip in mirth. “It’s not fair.”
“What?” He smiled, slowing the movement of his soapy hand down his stomach for her pleasure.
“You’re hotter than I am.”
With a sly grin, he shrugged his shoulders.
“Hey!” she shouted, tossing a roll of toilet paper at him.
He started chuckling and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. “You said it, not me!”
“You didn’t have to agree with me!”
“You know you only turn me on when you yell, Buffy.” He leered at her, turning his body to the side so there was no barrier to the full-frontal view he was giving her, sliding his hand down his abdomen and wrapping his hand around his erection. And stroked up the length one time, watching her intently with heavy lidded eyes.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stare. Though after a second, she did manage to lick her parched lips and let out a noise that sounded a lot like, “Guh.”
“I’m awfully dirty,” he had the audacity to say in his coy, bedroom voice while he languidly stroked his cock with soapy fingers. “Might need some help.”
He chuckled silkily at her inability to speak and decided to push her even further, tilting his head to the side and dragging his bottom lip into his mouth with his tongue as his free hand trailed up his chest, still tugging on his erection with the other. If that didn’t do it, he was going to start questioning her sexual preference.
It was the lip that did it for her and she frantically stripped off her clothes, trying not to topple over when her shorts got tangled around her feet. She was grateful that he didn’t laugh because if he had, he was so getting his ass kicked when she wanted to lick it instead.
“Come on in,” he said happily, making room for her beneath the spray once she opened the glass shower door. He was startled when she turned him around so his back was to her front, pressing herself against him as her hands trailed down his back and finally found purchase on his ass.
She needed to feel his slick, soapy ass against her, needed her face buried between his shoulder blades, needed to bite him there, slide her hands around to his front and grab his cock. When she did, he moaned, dropping his head forward and reaching one hand behind him hold her more snugly against him. She kissed his neck, then bit it, squeezed and stroked his cock, panted against him as his moaning turned louder, reverberating against the tiles in the bathroom. She slid to her knees, licking up the rivulets of water on his lower back, stroking him faster, bit each globe of his ass and Spike had to brace himself on the wall with his hands when his legs started shaking.
“Fuck, baby,” he said with a groan, watching her hand work him towards madness, soap lather squishing between her fingers as she picked up the pace and his eyes widened when he felt her other hand slide between his ass. He didn’t think she’d ever do this, not that he was complaining, but she’d taken him by surprise and he could sense her hesitation when the hand on his cock stilled for a moment. But it wasn’t hesitation, it was preparation. She’d been lathering up her hand, the minx.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” she said quietly, sliding one finger inside him and started stroking his cock again. Spike almost told her that even if she did hurt him, he wouldn’t have minded but he was too busy biting his lip and swallowing gulps of air to say a word.
She didn’t know what had come over her, but her need to possess him in every way possible had taken up the forefront of her mind and she couldn’t help herself. His reaction aided her further, gave her the confidence to continue and she stood up again, her finger joined by a second and her grip on his cock tightening as she pressed her body against him once more. God, the noises he made.
But Spike wasn’t to be dominated for very long, no matter how amazing it felt, and with super human speed, he’d flipped their positions, pressed her tits against the glass door, wrapped a hand around her throat and another around her pelvis to arch her back, and slammed inside of her, breathing against her ear.
“Wow!” she shouted with surprise, finishing it with a moan as one hand rose to grab the top of the door to hang on while he thrust long and hard inside of her. It was almost hard to make any noise with the strain on her neck as he craned it backwards but it only intensified the sensations. The hand at her pelvis moved down to her clit but instead of stroking her, he cupped her hard and lifted her up slightly to drive in at another angle. If he wasn’t holding her so tightly against him, she’d have fallen as her toes barely touched the bottom of the tub.
Spike pulled her head back a bit further, licking her neck and raising his eyes to the mirror above the sink that was directly across from them, watching her nipples flatten on the glass door with every thrust of his hips, darting them to the extreme arch of her back as she strained to keep him clenched inside her. She was emitting these husky, desperate, throaty moans that drove him crazy, her slick, hot pussy gripping him tighter as she came closer to climax.
He’d never fucked a woman so sweet, so fierce and willing like Buffy, never had it better, had never wanted to go so deep that she could feel it in her throat but he wanted to fill her from top to bottom with his want for her. So he pivoted his hips with every stroke, slamming her into the glass each time, grunting as she gave it right back to him.
“Fuck…I…love…you.” He nipped at her throat over the claim mark he’d given her, feeling every muscle in his body tighten and beg to surround her, his arms around her body clutching her incredibly close and when she started wailing with her release, saying his name over and over like he was a god, his fangs sank into her throat, triggering one fuck of an orgasm, speeding up his thrusts even more.
“Spike! Oh, God! Love you! Love you!” The last word was almost sung as she shrieked and shook against him, gasping and grunting as his fangs and cock sucked out every last bit of pleasure she had left. Her cheek pressed against the glass and she smiled, catching her breath as his hips jerked forward one last time and he pulled his fangs out of her neck, then licked it closed as he lowered her to the ground.
Her legs were useless and she put all her weight on the glass, sighing sweetly when his wet hands slid up and down her back and he placed soft kisses against her shoulders. “Remind me never to ignore you ever again,” she said in a sleepy, smiling voice.
He chuckled against her cheek, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her off the glass. “Need me to carry you?”
“For about two days.”
He lifted her up into his arms, turned off the taps and stepped out of the tub. “You aren’t sleepy, are you?”
She could hear the pathetic pout in his voice but she was too busy smiling and swooning as he dried her off. “You wore me out.”
“The hell I did,” he smiled. “You’re just suffering the afterglow.”
“Watch me suffer,” she said with a lazy stretch as she raised her arms for him to lift her once more after he’d dried her off.
Instead of lifting her, he leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth and slid a hand between her legs, finding how wet and ready she was for another go. She moaned and he chuckled, teeth nipping her nipple.
“Ok, so I could totally go again.”
She yelped as she was suddenly lifted off her feet and carried to the bed. As he lay her down and made a home for his face between her legs, she decided that there were much worse things to suffer from.
Like going home to the scoobies and explaining how she went off on a vacation with a master vampire and basically got hitched. She was not looking forward to this. She laced her fingers in his hair, sucking in air as he latched onto her clit with his lips and said, “Let’s never leave this hotel.”
Chapter 20 by dampersandspoons
Sorry for the delay! I've had major lack of inspiration for the past week and a half and my creativity has shifted to other things. But I'm writing when it comes to me so I won't let you down. Hopefully I'll have updates for other WIPs but I can't say which ones because the writing just isn't coming to me.
But, I love this chapter and I hope you do too! Thanks for the emails during my down time. Yes, I am alive, hahaha! Thanks for the concern...just having a dry spell lately.
“We didn’t see the Grand Canyon on the way to Maryland. Can we stop?”
“It’s nighttime, love. We won’t see a thing anyway.”
“But we can make our voices echo across the canyon!”
Spike looked at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the highway. “We’ve done more sightseeing in the past three days than I’ve done in my entire life.”
“Are you not having fun with me?” Buffy looked up at him with a pout and glistening eyes. Spike smiled and sighed at the affect she had on him.
“You’re evil with that face.”
She smiled wickedly. “Hey, can’t blame a girl when she finds something that works, can you?”
He chewed on the inside of his lip while she got out the map to find the best route to the Grand Canyon. He knew she was stalling. They should have been in Sunnydale two days ago but Buffy had apparently decided to take a grand tour of the States. He knew for certain she was stalling when they visited Bruceville - Vincennes, Indiana to see the Home of the Big Peach. And the name wasn’t lying. There was even a monument next to the twenty-foot peach. Exciting stuff, really. Buffy didn’t like his sarcasm, but honestly, was she serious with this shit? They were closed, and it was just a big produce mart, and she couldn’t even buy the apple butter they sold because again…closed. Traveling at night. Vampire. And yet, her enthusiasm to see the strange road-side tourist attractions never ceased. They’d seen five pet cemeteries, two ghost towns, Graceland – and he’d been there before but he wouldn’t tell Buffy how he and Dru had a hell of a time draining Elvis impersonators – and a blasphemous rendition of England’s Stonehenge called Carhenge in Nebraska. Some git of a farmer had taken used cars and arranged them to look like the ancient site, had spray painted them grey for authenticity, and called himself a fucking genius. It was awful and Buffy couldn’t stop laughing. She had used up all the film on her disposable camera taking pictures of the monstrosity, of Spike scowling, of Spike in front of a grey Buick with a cigarette in his mouth, of Spike rolling his eyes, of Spike kicking a bumper, of Spike generally hating everything about it until he started enjoying himself and her giggling attention. They’d fucked right in the center of Carhenge beneath the stars and if he narrowed his eyes just right, the cars really did look like Stonehenge and he could imagine that Buffy was his virgin sacrifice, he a wicked druid, and together their spirits had merged into one being while he sucked the blood out of her left breast. But then a cow mooed in the distance and reminded him that he was in Podunk, USA and he should really make Buffy come a few more times before they got back on the road. And he had, of course.
But now she wanted to go to the Grand Canyon. Not to mention that he saw her sneaking a brochure from the gas station earlier for Virginia City, Nevada that had a place called “The Bucket of Blood” where you could drink the world’s best Bloody Mary. If she thought for one minute that he was stepping boot in a place with a title like that, she was sorely mistaken.
“Buffy, we don’t have a lot of cash left and I’m not sure how much gas it’ll take to make it back to Sunnydale.”
She sighed and shook her map to smooth out the wrinkles. “We’re going to see the Grand Canyon,” she said sternly.
He pursed his lips. “How do you expect us to make it back if we run out of money?”
“I still have Giles’ card.”
He snorted at her juvenile tone and reached his hand across the seat to rest on her knee. “Not that I mind taking the watcher’s hard earned dosh, but shouldn’t you be more concerned about it?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t I deserve a vacation for saving the world?”
He frowned. “Buffy…”
“Well, don’t I? I’ve been told a hundred times over that I’ll die early, that I can’t have a normal life, can’t have children, can’t, can’t, can’t! And I’m having fun with you and I never have fun.”
His grip on her knee tightened at the mention of an early death, which he was determined would never happen, but his mate was lying to him. He had to remind her that through the claim, he knew what she was really hiding. “Buffy, I’m having a good time with you, too. But this has nothing to do with taking a reward for your duty.” He cocked an eyebrow and watched as she visibly shrank into herself. “You’re nervous about your chums finding out about us.”
She looked out the window as if by turning away from him, he couldn’t read her any longer. “That’s not true.”
With an annoyed sigh, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder and put the car in park.
“This isn’t like you. You don’t do it for a reward, you do it because you have to. And stealing money from your watcher certainly won’t go over too well with him. No doubt I’ll be blamed for the bad influence on you. That is, if we can even manage to get that far after we tell him about the claim,” he rambled and inhaled sharply as he looked over at her. God, he’d turned into a real wanker. Why should he give a fuck that she was essentially stealing money from tweedy bird? Since when did he give a tick about duty and following orders and sticking to a plan? He supposed it started the minute he was forced into an SUV with her while he was stuck in a wheelchair. Christ that seemed forever ago. He supposed he cared because she did, because he knew that these things were important to her. And if they were important to her, then they were important to Spike.
She was still staring out the window and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, look at me.”
“I’m not ashamed of you,” she said after a long pause, knowing he needed the reassurance. And she wasn’t. She loved him dearly, was proud to be with him. Had told him so many times she was afraid the words had lost their meaning but then he’d look at her. He would look at her with those eyes that shone only for her, kiss her with a softness she never imagined he could summon, and she knew she’d never grow tired of saying it. Of making it with him, either. So, Spike wasn’t the problem, well, not really. “I’m afraid they will be ashamed of me. That they won’t understand. That they were never really my friends if they don’t…”
“Hey,” he said softly, lifting her chin to look at her in the eyes. “Why the tears?”
She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I think I’m about to start my period.” He chuckled and she smiled a bit at him, letting out a laugh herself. “God, I’m just…I’m all emotional. I’ll be fine.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “You sure?”
She nodded and pressed her forehead to his lips once more, feeling him smile against her skin. “Promise you’ll be there with me when I tell them?”
He looked at her then, his eyes wrinkling along the edges as he gave her a grateful smile. “Of course I will. They love you, kitten.” He kissed her chastely on the lips. “And I love you and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
She sighed and nuzzled her head in his shoulder. “Can we have sex before we go?”
He laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder and clicked off the headlights with his free hand. “Afraid it’ll be the last time, love?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, sneaking her hand up his thigh towards his already rock hard erection.
He adjusted his position so she had better access. “What about the hotel between here and California?”
“Might not make it.” She slid down his zipper and licked the scar on his neck.
“This is better than the Grand Canyon anyway.” And then her mouth was around his prick and he suddenly didn’t care about anything else.
It was just a door. Just a big, brown, wooden door that she’d seen a hundred times before. But she couldn’t touch it, couldn’t knock, couldn’t do anything but stare at it while she squeezed the unlife out of her mate’s hand. Once she knocked, once she touched it and walked to the other side, everything was sure to change. She might have to kill her friends if they dared touch Spike and that really wasn’t something she was looking forward to. Especially since she’d made it home first and changed into her favorite turtleneck which was in no way meant to cover up bite marks.
“Want me to knock, pet?”
“Just give me a minute,” she whispered and took a deep breath. She hoped she could practice the big reveal on her mother, but Joyce wasn’t even home when she arrived. That left her with two options. Sit in her house and wait for her to come home, or go to Giles’ flat and get it over with. After Spike went down on her in the bathroom to ease her mind, she decided to deal with the watcher first. Something about that vampire’s tongue did wonders for her nerves. Maybe he could do it again in the bushes over there…
Spike whistled softly, looking up at the stars and rocking on his heels. He’d wait as long as she wanted, until she was ready. But the sun would rise eventually and as much as he loved her, the thought of dusting on her watcher’s front porch wasn’t a pleasant one.
“Ok,” she said to herself, one hand flattening in the air as she took a calming breath. “Ok, I can do this. I’m the slayer.”
“That’s right, love. Slay that door. Teach it a lesson.”
She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. Then she stood straight, lifted her chin and squared her shoulders like the soldier she was, like the fighter he loved more than anything, and she pounded a tightly coiled fist on the door.
It was Willow who finally opened it and she was smiling brightly and squealing and then she looked at Spike and her mouth snapped shut. “Buffy…h-hey.”
He sneered at the redhead just for a bit of fun, thrilled at the sound of her heart rate increasing.
“Hey, Wills!” Buffy embraced her friend warmly and Willow looked at the vampire over the slayer’s shoulder.
“What is he doing here?” she whispered.
Buffy pulled away and took Spike’s hand and he smiled at her encouragingly. “We have some…um…stuff to talk about.”
Xander came to the door and grinned cheerfully. “Buffster! And…vampire.” He wasn’t grinning any more.
Spike knew winning the boy over wouldn’t be easy. Angelus bitched about him nonstop so he knew he was facing a challenge. But all this lollygagging on the porch was truly annoying and if they were going to do it here, then he was lighting a cigarette. But he had a feeling the somewhat calm demeanor of her friends would soon change once Buffy dropped the bomb on them.
“So, did you bring him here to stake him so that I could watch?” Xander asked with a smile and Spike resisted the urge to bite it right off his stupid face.
Buffy flinched at his words and squeezed his hand tighter. “No, we um…where’s Giles?” She was already exhausted, he could tell. Maybe he should scoop her up in his arms, take her someplace, shag her brains out for a few hours and then they could give it another go with her mates. Of course, that plan flew out the window when the Watcher pushed his way through the two teenagers to consider his charge. His expression wasn’t as welcoming.
“Where have you been, young lady?”
Jesus, Spike had a hundred years on that man and he’d still managed to make him feel like a child. And Giles wasn’t even speaking to him.
“Well, we were…”
“Car trouble,” Spike offered. “Had to make a bit of a detour. All my fault, watcher.” He raised his hands in submission. Every second they stayed in the air Spike felt his big bad reputation waning like a dog tucking his tail between his legs. But if it softened the blow for his girl…whatever. He just wanted to get the show on the sodding road.
Giles looked at him, studied him for a moment. The corners of his mouth twitched a bit and his eyes narrowed, but then he was looking at Buffy again and he folded his arms in front of him.
“You should have called me. I’ve been worried sick that you’d been killed.” He gave a challenging glance to the vampire and Spike didn’t fail to notice that these glances were given behind the safety of the magical barrier of his doorway. No way in hell was he inviting him in. So, Spike flashed him a bit of gold for good measure. Short enough to be seen but long enough to remind him not to fuck with a master vampire. He loved Buffy, he really did, but he wasn’t going to stand there and be glared at by a man he could break by using only his pinkie. It wasn’t even about being a vampire and Giles a human. This was what men did with one another when their territory was being threatened. Spike just had a bit of an advantage, that’s all. Too bad the territory in question could kick both their asses but he clung to what he could, considering what a pansy he’d become in the past few days.
“Well, I’m not killed. Spike never laid a hand on me.”
Well, that was just a lie. Spike snickered and Buffy squeezed his hand.
Giles was finally taking notice of said hand, the hand that was clasping his slayer’s fingers as if they were high school sweethearts. That’s right, Watcher. Get a good look.
Giles removed his glasses. Tucked them into his front shirt pocket. “Please explain to me why he is here?”
And he wasn’t looking at him any more. Giles saw what he needed, assessed the situation brilliantly, and had no more use for Spike. What a dick. So, Spike made a lot of noise as he lit his cigarette. Ignore him? Pffft.
“Can we come in? This might take a while.”
“You may enter,” he said pointedly. “But that thing will never cross this threshold.”
“Don’t worry about me, Rupert. I’ve already eaten. The kiddies are safe for the next hour or two.”
Xander and Willow gulped and Buffy glared at him. He was too amused to care. But then he felt her prickling nerves through the claim, felt her insecurities and her fears come to the surface and he kicked himself for making it worse. He smiled apologetically at her, successfully wiping the smirk off his own face.
“Thank you…Spike, for your wonderful sales pitch on trust,” Giles said sarcastically.
“Buffy, why are you hand holding?” Xander asked incredulously, having just noticed himself.
“Hand holding? Who’s hand holding?” Willow said excitedly, standing on her toes to look over Giles’ shoulder at the blond couple. She gasped. “Buffy! You’re holding hands with Spike!”
“Guys! Shut up!” It was no surprise that the three of them instantly obeyed her command when the slayer spoke so authoritatively. Spike put his hand in his duster pocket and brought the leather around to the front of him. As soon as they were done here…he was going to make her talk to him in that tone all night. Maybe she’d punish him for his bad behavior earlier. Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about S&M when her watcher was standing right there. He took a long drag of his cigarette and looked at the moon.
She let out a tired sigh, ran her hand through her hair and said, “There’s no easy way to say this and since you won’t let us in, I’ll just spit it out now. Spike and I are…together.”
Willow almost squealed. Almost. Then she remembered Angelus and how not cool all of that was. She put on a serious frown, though her curiosity was evident in her rambling. “Do you mean ‘together-by-magic’ together? Or do you mean ‘major-smoochies-and-goo-goo-eyes’ together?”
“What?” Xander shouted.
Giles just stared in disappointment and disbelief.
Spike nudged her side.
“I mean…” She looked at Spike for a moment for a little boost of courage and when he smiled at her, her determination came back into the fray. “I mean…we’re eternally together.” She tugged on her turtleneck and exposed Spike’s favorite place in the world, the scar on her neck.
They all gasped in shock. Willow and Xander didn’t know what it meant, but they knew that Spike had bitten her and that was probably not so awesome. Giles knew exactly what it meant and as he raised a stake in the air that came out of nowhere, Spike was quick to expose his own scar.
“It’s mutual, Rupes! You dust me, you kill her too!”
“Giles, put it down,” Buffy pleaded, standing in between the two men.
“He has tricked you in the worst possible way, Buffy.” He looked as if he might cry or punch the wall and the two teenagers were too busy covering their mouths to say much of anything. Giles still held the stake in the air and Spike could see the death glare in his eyes. Watcher boy was none too pleased.
“He didn’t trick me. I asked him to do it.”
“Would someone mind telling me what is going on?” The voice came from behind them and Buffy’s face went pale. She turned around and smiled shyly.
Joyce was none too pleased.
“Where the hell have you been? And what’s this about you slaying vampires? I thought we were past that after the institution!”
Buffy’s eyes went wide and Spike looked at her for confirmation. Buffy was none too pleased. Apparently, she hadn’t told her friends about being in a loony bin, nor had she told Spike. He’d ask about that later.
“I’m uh…the vampire slayer,” she said nervously and as much as Spike wanted to comfort her, he didn’t like standing with the watcher’s stake poised to his back so he turned to the side and leaned against the wall.
“And I’m a vampire,” he offered, showing the bumpies for proof.
Joyce clutched her chest and shook her head. She’d obviously had a hell of a time while her daughter was gone and even seeing it in the flesh wasn’t enough to convince her. “That…that is the man I hit with an axe. The one on PCP.”
Xander couldn’t help but snort. “He wasn’t on PCP, Mrs. Summers. He’s a vampire.”
Spike grabbed Buffy’s hand again. Though she was trying to keep grounded, he could feel her inward retreat, the walls closing in on her and he wanted to get her the hell out of there.
“Is there a place we can all sit down and talk about this? The verbal hockey isn’t doing too good on the slayer’s nerves here and I won’t have you making her uncomfortable.” They all looked at him like he was crazy. As if he’d grown a mustache while a balloon emerged from his ass. “What? Think she likes being attacked from all sides? She’s in charge here and you’ll listen to what she has to say and that’s that. So let’s go inside and get it the hell over with. I won’t do anything. She’d stake me before I could anyway.”
Giles seemed to consider this for a moment. Joyce sighed sharply and held her purse tightly against her. Xander looked excited and Willow stared at Buffy with a compassionate little quirk of her lips. And Spike felt his mate brimming with love for him and nothing else seemed to be important.
Rupert lowered his stake. “Very well. But you lay a finger on anything—”
“No need to say it,” Spike said, his cigarette already crushed beneath his boot.
“All right. Come in, Spike,” Giles finally said and Spike grinned as he walked inside.
“So, what’s with the eternal bite mark?” Xander asked and Spike knew it was going to be a while before he’d get to be alone with his slayer that evening. At least the watcher gave him an invite. That was something, wasn’t it?
As he looked over at the man and noted the bottle of holy water within inches of his grasp, he retracted any hope that Giles would ever trust him.
“Start from the beginning, love.”
She sat on the arm of the sofa next to him and folded her arms, waiting for everyone to get situated. She began.
“Did you guys know that there’s an emergency brake lever in most cars?”
Spike laughed and covered his face with his hands. This was going to be a long night.
WILL IT REALLY BE A LONG NIGHT? IS JOYCE GOING TO SEND BUFFY TO AN INSTITUTION? WILL SPIKE BE DUST BEFORE HE GETS NAKED AGAIN? JUST HOW SERIOUS WERE THOSE GOO-GOO-EYED-SMOOCHIES? IS WILLOW GAY YET? DID ANYONE HOLD A MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR ANGELUS AND DRU? FIND OUT NEXT TIME!
Chapter 21 by dampersandspoons
Chapter 21* * *
Buffy’s wide eyes moved from face to face in Giles’ living room. Her big, toothy smile never faded as she tried to lighten the mood after telling them the entire story, save the dirty parts.
“Not working, love,” Spike mumbled from her side, giving her an apologetic pat on the knee.
She sighed. “Look, I know this is a little weird, but—”
“I can’t believe this. This is a joke, right?” Joyce said. She looked as if someone had poured her into the armchair. Every limb hung off the sides except for one hand that had been rubbing her temple for the past twenty minutes.
“It’s not a joke,” Buffy said seriously. “Spike and I are…well, we’re…” She looked at him, tilting her head as she tried to think of the words.
“Married?” she finally settled on.
“Don’t like that. Marriage implies we went to a priest and the hell I’d ever do that. How about claimed?”
“But that sounds really stuffy, doesn’t it sweetie?”
“Since when do you call me sweetie?”
“I could start.”
“You could make me puke.”
“Guys,” Xander interrupted, not finding anything sweet or amusing in the couple’s banter. “Focus. Can we possibly go back to the part of the story where Buffy lost her damn mind and let Spike bite her?”
“Hey!” she said with a pout. “I’m not crazy!”
“I can’t believe that my seventeen-year-old daughter got married without my consent!” Joyce stood up and folded her arms across her chest as she glared at the both of them. Spike visibly shrank and Buffy looked at the ground ashamedly.
“And you,” she continued, pointing an angry finger at Giles. “I should…I should…well, I should do something to you!”
“M-me? But Joyce, I-I—”
“No, sir! You said you were her watcher, whatever that means, so you should be responsible for her when she does her little slaying activities.”
“They aren’t activities, Mom. I’m the Chosen One!”
“And I’m your mother, and you, Chosen One, are grounded!”
“But mom! You can’t ground me, I’m married!”
“Claimed,” Spike said.
“Shut up, Spike!” both Summers women said in unison.
He pursed his lips and huffed, grumbling quietly.
“Buffy, I wish you would have told me about this yourself. I had to find out from your librarian that you were clear across the country and that you kill vampires for a living!”
“I don’t get paid,” she muttered.
“Young lady, you know how much I hate mumbling.”
“Mom, I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but to be honest, I didn’t think I’d live long enough to get a chance. Slayers don’t have the longest life-expectancy.”
“Oh!” Joyce gasped, her hands coming up dramatically. “Well, that makes me feel so much better.”
Spike raised his hand as if he was a schoolboy in class and Joyce turned to him angrily, not finding anything funny about this situation. “Yes, Spike?”
He lowered his hand but made no apologies for interrupting as he brought it closer to his eye line to inspect his nails casually. “She’s got a better chance being with me.”
Giles barked a laugh and stood up to walk to his hutch where he kept the good scotch.
“It’s true! Long as she’s mated to me, she’ll live as long as I do and since I have the built-in mayday if she gets into some mess, she’ll always be protected.”
“I don’t need your protection,” Buffy said defiantly.
Spike pursed his lips. “On your side, remember?”
Xander and Willow felt like they were watching a tennis game, their heads whipping back and forth between them. Xander finally shook his head and blinked hard.
“I am very tired. So very, very tired,” Joyce said, closing her eyes and inhaling slowly as she hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “I don’t want to hear the words blood or vampire or marriage for the rest of the night.”
She walked to the front door, distressed and frayed around the edges, talking to no one in particular. “I am going to draw a hot bath, soak for an hour, drink some wine, and then I am off to bed.”
Joyce held up a hand to silence her. She smiled gratefully. “Thank you. You and I are going to have a nice, long, private,” she said pointedly as she looked at Spike, “chat in the morning. Ok?”
“Spike?” Joyce called from the door right as she put her hand on the doorknob.
“Yes, Mrs. Summers?” He straightened up in his seat like a proper man.
“She has a ten o’clock curfew. See to it that at least one rule of mine is followed.”
Buffy groaned and Spike nodded ruefully. “Ten o’clock. It’s a party.”
Joyce left and Buffy let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God that’s over with.”
Willow chewed on her lip and Xander glared at Spike while Giles was busy drinking straight from the bottle.
“It’s not over with, is it?” Buffy’s face scrunched up sadly and she sat back down.
“I just…you went off and…Spike! And then…” Xander was unable to form coherent sentences, it seemed.
“Spit it out, whelp.”
“I think it’s totally groovy.” Willow nodded her head curtly once, smiling brightly and sitting up like the supportive best friend she was. Her smile faltered when Xander shot her an incredulous look. “What?”
“What does this mean, Buff? Is he going to be around all the time?”
Spike snickered, folding his hands behind his head. “What’s the matter? Don’t like me?”
“No, I don’t like you.”
“Aww, I might cry.”
“Like you even could, you soulless—”
“Guys!” Buffy said, holding up both hands. “This is a lot of information to take in at once. We’re all tired and a little bit emotional. Maybe it’s a good idea to call it a night.”
“Never should have sent you on that mission,” Giles said quietly to himself in the corner. He laughed a bit. “It’s over. It’s all over.”
Spike rolled his eyes, having heard him. “Need a tampon, watcher?”
Everyone in the room made some sort of balking noise at that and Spike laughed gleefully. “You’re all so uptight. See? You need me. Loosen your britches, gang. Life’s not that bad.”
Buffy shook her head with a sigh. “Come on, Spike. Let’s go before you make it worse.”
“Oh, it can’t possibly be worse,” Xander said, lowering his head when Buffy gave him a sad smile.
“Guess I’ll see you at school?” she asked hopefully, mostly looking at the back of Giles’ head and wishing he’d at least say something to her.
“Yeah! We’ll talk,” Willow said, hoping to boost her spirits as she nodded eagerly.
When neither Xander nor Giles answered, Buffy’s shoulders sagged and she looked up at Spike. “Ready to go?” It was evident that she was on the verge of tears and barely holding it together.
“Sure, love.” He glared at the group in disappointment as she walked past him to the door. “Sleep tight, kiddies. Watcher,” he said with a cocked eyebrow when Giles finally looked up.
Giles would definitely be erasing Spike’s invite that evening. There was no mistaking the vampire’s meaning in that death glare he’d given him.
Once the couple made their exit, Giles felt comfortable enough to say, “Liked him better when he was in a wheelchair.”
“Shh, love, it’s all right,” Spike said softly as he tried to soothe his crying mate.
“This is so bad. So, so bad!” She buried her face in his chest, hiccupping as she tried to control her tears. She’d tried to be strong, she’d tried to suck it up and be brave but she knew it was coming all along. She wasn’t stupid. There was a small part of her, though, that had clung to the ridiculous idea that maybe they would understand, put a little faith in her, and be more supportive. Willow, out of all of them, was the only one who seemed to be sympathetic though Buffy wasn’t holding her breath. All it would take was a powwow between Giles and Xander to get her on their side.
“Just give it time. And Red’s solid,” he said, knowing where her mind had wandered off to.
She raised her red, puffy face to his and sniffled. “You think so?”
“Course, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead, smiling when she took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “That’s my girl.”
“I’m really emotional today.”
He chuckled a bit and it managed to drag a smile out of her. “Got reason to be. You know, I could take ‘em out for you.”
She laughed then, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Better not. I’ll kick your ass.”
“You are so twisted.” Oh, but she loved it, too. He knew when her heart rate sped up.
“Please? What about the git?”
“No.” She pulled back, her eyes twinkling as she giggled. “Stay away from my friends.”
“I could just maim him.”
“Break his leg?”
“What if I wrote him an official letter that told him he was adopted?”
She was silent for a minute and she tilted her head. “You know…that might have the opposite effect you’re going for.”
They started walking together, hand in hand, hoping that the small time left together that evening didn’t go by in a hurry.
“I could make sure his milk was always spoiled.”
“Now you’re plotting like an evil vampire.”
He slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “I love you, you know. Might not be much, but you’ve got me.”
That was really saying something, she thought. God, how did she get here? How was she going to deal with the aftermath?
Her mother would take a few days to come around, and Buffy wasn’t so much concerned about that. As long as Spike behaved and loved her and treated her the way he had been these last days, Joyce would be hard-pressed to keep up the disappointment. Not like she had a choice, anyhow.
But her friends? Giles? She had no clue. At least she had Spike in all this madness, and at least she wouldn’t have to deal with the repercussions on her own. She knew he’d stand by her, and holy moly was that a weird thing for a slayer to admit.
At least her life was never boring.
She smiled up at him, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. “That’s more than I could ever ask for.”
Spike turned away abruptly, hiding his face. “Don’t make me blush, woman.”
She laced her arms around one of his and giggled, leaning into him as they walked down the street. “Tough guy.”
“Now it’s ruined.”
“You love it.”
“Let’s take another road trip.”
“Name the date, Buffy. I’m yours.”
Yes, the end! It just needed to end here and I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter but I just wasn't feeling what I had written and finally decided that the reason for that was because it was finished. I like the open-ending, personally. Anyway, thank you to everyone reading and to Dusty273 for her help on a lot of these chapters. I hope you enjoyed this silly-fic and that you continue to enjoy my stories. *hugs*
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.