Double Order of Toast
rated R
Rewrite of the Initiative with a spuffy twist, written for the Spuffyverse
"Ok, I'll flare." Buffy took the proffered flare gun and got herself prepared for her upcoming battle with Spike. The last battle. It would end tonight.
"And we'll come a-running," Xander assured her, not wanting to admit to being worried about his friend. Ok, maybe the flare gun was overkill, but it was all he had to offer her. Luckily, she didn't call him on it.
All eyes were on Buffy as she stalked with her usual slayer determination to the door, and disappeared behind it, leaving behind a ominous cloud of anxiety and worry. They knew she was right. This confrontation did have to be done alone. It didn't mean they had to like it though.
+++++++++
Buffy flopped herself on the bench in the middle of campus, grumbling at the utter suckiness of her life. Why couldn't Spike just have stayed gone? And why did he have to be such a prick when he'd had the Gem and subsequently pretty much wiped the Quad with her ass?
Because noooooo, Spike couldn't just try to kill her. He had to make her feel like utter crap about herself in the process.
The thing that really pissed her off, was that he was right. She had been stupid. It had taken absolutely NOTHING to pry apart her dimpled knees. Wait. Dimpled? Did Spike call her fat? Did he think she had cottage cheese legs or something? Oh my god, he didn't, did he?
She studied the black pants that covered the alleged dimpled knees intently, wishing she had x-ray vision so she could either confirm or deny Spike's accusation.
'Well, guess she knew why she wasn't worth a second go, ' Buffy thought bitterly. But even as those words echoed in her head, she knew they weren't true. Her scale, and the way her clothes fit were enough to clue her in that her weight was not an issue. Well, that didn't mean she couldn't have cottage cheese thighs though.
And wait... why the hell did she even care what Spike thought of her? What if she DID have cottage cheese legs? So what? It's not like it was any business of his.
He was soooo dead. The need to wipe that smug smile off of his face had now escalated. Oh yeah, his ass was sooooo going to be staked, then she'd be laughing as he blew away. That'll teach him to call her knees dimpled, she silently declared with a defiant toss of her head.
So caught up in her inner rant, she missed the conversation taking place in the bushes near by.
"What've we got?" Riley asked in a no-nonsense voice, his back ramrod straight. He took his role as commander in charge quite seriously.
"Civilian, sir," Graham replied, handing over his binoculars, hoping he hadn't let on by his tone that the reported civilian was anybody special. He exchanged a private smirk with Forrest.
Riley accepted binoculars in a clipped manner, secretly relishing being called 'sir' by his friends and fellow Initiative soldiers. His will to succeed in this mission increased tenfold. They would be recapturing Hostile 17 this evening. Failure was not an option. He didn't even want to think of the ramifications of not completing tonight's mission, as his future hinged on tonight success.
When he looked through the borrowed binoculars, Riley muttered, "Ah damn." He missed the look that passed between his two friends.
"She's compromising the area," Forrest announced, then took liberties with his friendship with the commanding officer. " Well, at least she's not making crazy, naked sex," he added snidely.
Forrest ignored the glower Commander Finn sent his way. "Told you. We gotta clear her outta there... Fast." Riley reiterated.
"Maybe not. Just thinking," Forrest declared, once again ignoring Riley's cold stare. "If you were Hostile 17, living off the crap we feed 'em, what would you rather eat... than that?" He gestured towards Buffy's direction.
Riley came off his high horse momentarily as he looked at Forrest in disbelief. "You wanna use the girl I got a crush on... as bait?"
Undeterred, Forrest bragged, "I can tag a hostile at 50 yards."
Riley eyed his two fellow soldiers, then looked back at Buffy sitting stupidly on the bench. Well, if she was stupid enough to sit on a bench in the middle of campus in the middle of the night... well, who was he to argue?
"Affirmative. Civilian will be used as bait."
++++++
God, what was taking so damn long? Maybe she should move someplace else. Or maybe just go back to her dorm. Oh, wait. Bad idea. Weeping Willow was there. Hey, wasn't that a tree?
Suddenly her vampire radar kicked in, and her adrenaline kicked in to overdrive. She was looking forward to this, she realized. Because fighting with Spike? Always of the good. Too bad this would be the last one.
Dammit, that wasn't regret she just felt, was it?
"Well, well, what have we here. You're not offering yourself up to me, are you, luv?" A deep voice spoke behind, and Buffy started, jumping up and whirling around.
And there he was, standing just on the outskirts of the shadows behind her. His angular face set into a mocking welcoming grin, his arms crossed over his chest, hips thrust out in an almost obscene manner as he stood there with his trademark leather coat hanging around legs encased enticingly in tight, black jeans. Her eyes were drawn involuntarily to his lips, and in a fleeting moment, noticed that he looked paler than usual, even in the bad lighting of the school campus. He looked sinister as always, but there was something off. Something in his eyes that alerted her that all was not right.
He looked weak.
Tonight she could kill him.
Tonight she would win.
Again, why was she feeling a little pang of regret at that thought?
Spike began to stalk towards her, his steps still smooth and threatening no matter what kind of physical state he was in, and Buffy found herself oddly nervous at his silent approach. Gripping the stake tighter in her hand, she blurted the first thing that came into her head.
"You think I'm fat."
Whatever Spike had expected the Slayer to say, it wasn't that, and he jerked to a standstill as he regarded her with confusion. Was this some sort of diversinary plan? Bombard him with skewed female logic, then ambush him when he wasn't expecting it?
Bloody hell. It was working. Spike gave himself a mental slap, and growled low in his throat. He became quickly enraged that she had managed to trap him so easily, and his eyes flashed yellow as he prepared himself to strike.
++++
"Target has entered the vicinity, prepare to move in," Riley updated unnecessarily, as the trio poised in anticipation. They had just witnessed Hostile 17 approach the civilian, who oddly was showing a significant lack of fear. She must be really stupid, was the unanimous decision.
"You think I'm fat," they heard her say to the Hostile, and they looked at each other with similar looks of confusion. Did she know him?
All thoughts were put on hold as they witnessed the Hostile go into attack mode, and Riley gave the order to move in. "Remember, let's try not to taze him unless we can help it. That's an expensive bit of hardware in his head, Maggie won't like it if we fry it all to hell," he added unnecessarily.
Fanning out in stealthy sure movements, they surrounded the pair.
+++++
Spike smelled them before he saw or heard them, and he turned to her with a look of face of utter outrage on his rapidly morphing face.
"You stupid bitch! You set me up!!" he yelled, getting ready to flee for safety.
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
The area was suddenly abound with activity, as figures in military gear stormed the clearing. Even thought there were only three, their frenzied, tactical attack made their number seemed overwhelming.
"Miss, step away from the hostile," a voice ordered curtly.
Buffy stared at them, mouth surely agape, as an automatic weapon were suddenly trained upon her. Ok, now that was all kinds of not cool.
"Miss, I need you to step back. By order of the United States government, you need to evacuate this immediate vicinity."
"What? No way." Ok, guess she found some of those commando guys. Were they all wound this tight? Buffy turned to look at Spike who was glaring at her with such seething hatred it caused her to take a step back. What was his problem? Ok, maybe it was the fact that he tried to punch one of them, and was brought to his knees in pain.
One of the GI Joe guys strode up to her and attempted to grab her arm. "Miss, I need your cooperation in order to ensure your safety. Please, come with me."
What was up with the masks? Were they like butt ugly or something? Buffy wrenched her arm away. "Excuse me, but I was in the middle of something here."
One of the masked marvels sighed in exasperation. "Buffy, just come with me, ok? I'm just trying to save your life here."
Buffy's eyes narrowed immediately in suspicion at the use of her name, but before she could say anything, Spike had flung herself at her in anger.
"I knew it, you bloody bitch. You're in with these soldier boys. Think it's right funny to set ole Spike up, don't you? Thought you were a straight shooter, slayer, you fucking bitch! I should have known better!" he roared viciously, hatred shining brightly in his flashing eyes.
But there was another thing Buffy saw in his eyes right before the Gomer Pyles let loose with their funky weapons and began hosing his body down with the holy water that they both had strapped to their backs like they were the Ghostbusters.
Betrayal.
And she didn't like it.
Why else would she be cringing at the screams of agony as his flesh bubbled and was eaten away?
The Gomer that had called her by name still had ahold of her arm and he watched the take down of the Hostile, his lips twisted up at the sight of the filth writhing on the ground, smoke billowing from the red, charred skin. He was already tasting the victory, imagining the pleased look on his superior's face when they brought in the bagged and tagged vampire-chip still intact.
The outer demonic packaging was quite a different story, and fair game as far as Riley was concerned. The girl was just going to have to bear witness, and Riley figured she would be persuaded to see things their way. They were the government, after all.
"Do whatever you need to get the Hostile... restrained, men," he ordered gleefully. Buffy could see that was clearly code for "time to beat the shit out of him," when the big-ass squirt guns were holstered and well placed kicks were inflicted on Spike's tortured, prone form with their military issue steel-toed boots. When she saw one of them take out an even bigger-ass knife and stick it in Spike's gut, her blood really began to boil.
"That one was for all the people you killed tonight, you demonic fuck," she heard ground out towards the agonized vampire.
Ok, someone obviously had some major issues.
Buffy could see the cruel glint of satisfaction set upon the man who held held her-well, what features the lame mask exposed anyway- and without clear thought, her fist was cocked back and flying through the air, landing a direct blow on his chin, causing him to stumble back a few steps.
Riley turned stunned eyes in her direction, only to see her marching over to where his boys were taking down the target, and he shook his head to clear to it, his jaw aching like hell. He figured it had to be due to the element of surprise, unable to comprehend that a mere girl could sucker punch him like that.
"Hey! Lame military guys! Nobody gets to beat the shit out of Spike except me, got it?" she threatened, just before she unleashed her slayer self on them. With a series of well executed kicks and punches, she had the dynamic duo flattened on the ground in awkward unconscious heaps, and turned just in time to see the remaining one try to take her down.
As if.
It didn't even dawn on her that they were stronger than they should be, the challenge they had presented was comparable to that of the demons she fought nightly. But they had still not presented a challenge for her.
Her slow burning rage went a long way.
Riley's last thought before sinking into a blessed pain free unconscious was that Buffy was his key to advancement and promotion. What Maggie could do with her. Then... thankful oblivion for his beaten body.
Chest heaving, Buffy stood there, taking in the sight of the bodies as they lay strewn around her. She hadn't killed them, she knew. Merely incapacitated, but she didn't really want to be there when they woke up.
Then there was Spike.
Why had she gone all damage bound and saved his sorry ass? And why was she feeling... sympathy as she gazed down at his tormented body? Wow, they had done some quality damage in a very short time. Wonder if that was something they learn, or like a prerequisite to join, or something?
Her life never made any sense, why should she be so foolish as to think it would now? With a heavy sigh, she looked around warily to make sure this little shake-down hadn't been a witnessed event, then crouched down next to the unconscious vampire.
God, he really was a mess. The holy water had acted like acid, burning away his clothes wherever it had touched, even through his leather duster. He was going to be pissed, she thought fleetingly, then realized it hadn't been just normal holy water they had doused him with. She reached out a hesitant finger and poked his shoulder, not surprised when she immediately experienced a burning sensation where her skin met his.
Guess she hadn't been too far off with the acid theory. She'd have to remember that one.
A fleeting sound of boots on asphalt alerted her that reinforcements on her way, and Buffy looked around in a panic. Crap, now what?
She got up to flee, not wanting to put up with anymore male military testosterone for the evening, when the image of Spike's look of betrayal flashed through her head.
+++++++
She was Insano Girl, there was no question , she mentally ranted as she streaked through her mother's house and up the stairs.
Who cared if Spike thought that she had betrayed him?
Well, obviously, she did. There was no other answer available to her, especially in light of the raw inferno that used to be her back and shoulder, and everywhere else Spike's stupid dead carcass had touched her.
And her favorite jacket?
Toast. No, wait. Better make that a double order of toast.
Buffy dumped Spike unceremoniously on the bare floor of the bathroom, and ran over to turn the taps on the shower, cursing the government under her breath the entire time. Leave it to them to mix acid and holy water.
Leave it to her to subject her vulnerable flesh to it.
In desperate motions, she tore her toasted jacket off and threw it on the floor, soon to be followed by her shirt and bra, unable to halt the cry of pain that passed over her lips when the ruined material stuck to her burned flesh Quickly, she shimmied out of her tight pants, and jerked her underwear off, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Buffy hurriedly jumped into the shower, eager to rinse off anything that remained, wincing when the water hit her traumatized skin. God, if it had done such a number on her just by secondary contact, imagine what it must have done to Spike.
Spike.
She peeked around the shower curtain and saw him just as she had dumped him, bleeding profusely from the knife wound he had suffered earlier. Oh great, her mom was going to be pissed. no amount of hydrogen peroxide was going to get THAT much blood out of the carpet. He looked dead. As in, really dead. Blistered and dead.
With guilt suddenly plaguing her, Buffy found herself stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel haphazardly around her. Already, now that the residual acid was gone from her skin, the pain was dulling to a tolerable level. Well, not for long, she realized, as she set to work undressing the unconscious vampire in her bathroom.
Her hands quickly became raw and blistered from the direct contact with Spike's saturated clothing, and Buffy was anything but gentle as she ripped his clothes from his body.
Buffy had just managed to get his jeans yanked down when a low tortured, "Bloody hell" filled the small confines of the bathroom, but she didn't give a moment's pause. She couldn't take that time she realized, as more of Spike's body was revealed to her sympathetic eyes. She was trying not to let the extensive damage to Spike's body effect her, but he was a mess.
Damn him, anyway!! Nobody kicked the shit out of him except her! That's the only reason why she was doing this. She had MORE than earned that right over the years. So that's what she was going to do. Get him all better, then kick the shit out of him. Then stake him, as planned.
And she had heard that the land of Denial was quite lovely this time of year.
Tossing aside the last of his clothes, she ignored his pained gaze as he tried to focus on his surroundings. "Wha..."
"Shut up." Buffy needed silence from him right now. She couldn't handle his mocking comments at this moment, not when she was in such mental upheaval. Kneeling down, she grabbed him underneath the arms, trying to ignore the groan of pain that tore past his scorched lips.
Putting her slayer strength to full use, she hauled him as quickly as she could into the shower, holding him tightly as he screamed and cried when the water rushed over him, driving him further into agony.
The acid was washing onto her, but thankfully caused minimal new damage as it scurried along down the drain of the tub. How long they stayed there, Buffy had no idea, her concept of time completely deserting her, as Buffy made sure every part of his body was rinsed free of the Holy Acid.
The Big Bad had turned into the Big Baby in her arms, finally stilling his efforts to flee her imprisoning embrace, and now merely just sobbed. The weird thing was that Buffy didn't really find his sobbing that weird, it just kind of fit with the bizarro night she'd already had.
Buffy may not be the sharpest tack when it came to garnering on to human emotions, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that her mortal enemy wasn't just blubbering over the pain. Something else had happened.
"Spike," she said finally, her body beginning to shiver, her skin shriveled and wrinkled with the hot water long since run out. When there was no response, she attempted to extricate herself from his tight hold.
A low growl sounded in his throat at her actions, and Buffy stilled, finally realizing that she was naked in the shower with her mortal enemy, who was also naked. Verrrrry naked. Yep, this one was one of her better moves all right, she chided herself. Nothing like serving yourself right up on a platter to your enemy to take a big bite out of.
But Spike didn't seemed inclined to take a bite out of her. Rather, he was nuzzling his nose into her collar bone, his eyes closed, trying to bring her back against him.
Get out. He was CUDDLING her? Ok, now that was cause for the wiggins. As in, MAJOR.
In a panicked scramble, Buffy wrenched herself away and leapt out of the shower. She immediately regretted her hastiness when Spike groaned with pain at her abrupt departure, curling into a tight ball as oblivion tried to claim him again.
Dammit, there was that guilt thing again.
As she dragged the now unconscious vamp out of her shower, she was happy to note her Slayer healing going to work. Looking down at Spike, she noticed that he wasn't as fortunate.
He was still a total disaster.
But, she was glad he was unconscious again as she hauled his dripping weight down the hallway towards her bedroom. When the little voice inside her head spoke up, questioning her sanity in the matter, Buffy snarled and told it to shut the hell up. She was lucky her mom was out of town, since she could just see taking Spike to her dorm room with the Weeping Willow tree there, even though it had been much closer. Or over to Giles. She could well imagine the conversation that would take place...
'Yeah sorry Giles. Didn't kill him. What? No, I saved him instead. Of course I'm in my right mind! Why would you even think otherwise? Sheesh!'
Buffy dropped him on her bed, trying not to look at the bold display of fineness spread out naked on top of her comforter. Because Spike without his clothes on? Wow. Who knew?
Feeling her limbs grow heavy with fatigue, Buffy went to the bathroom to retrieve the quality first kit before she also crashed into oblivion.
Returning to her room, she snuck a quick peek at the naked vampire and regrettably covered him up with a blanket. Wouldn't want him to wake up and think she LIKED looking at him naked or anything. Because... uh, she kinda did.
A flush colored her skin, and she gave herself a mental slap. First aid, sleep.
Then stake Spike tomorrow.
Feeling better after having a game plan set, she quickly bandaged the gaping knife wound just below his ribs. Buffy didn't even want to think of why she was bandaging him if she was planning on staking him in the AM, or why she was subconsciously planning on retrieving blood for him to aid his healing.
Because if she did, she would have to return from her nice vacation in Denial, and it was so pleasant there. Really.
Her limbs now seemed to be weighted down with lead, and Buffy tossed the first aid kit onto the floor, her brain officially at Code Marshmallow status. Sleep beckoned. She had just enough energy to adorn herself with a pair of no nonsense panties and a tank top, figuring that good enough.
Without regard for her safety, Buffy crawled under her covers, feeling safe in the flawed logic that the naked Big Bad was sleeping on top of the covers.
Buffy didn't know if she should be surprised upon wakening a few hours later to find said naked Big Bad under the covers with her. What DID come as a surprise was that he was wrapped around her, her back flush against the naked hardness of his chest, and...
Oh god, she didn't want to go there.
Then she felt it, a slight pulling sensation through her body, originating where his face was buried against her shoulder. It sent a slight, teasing caress through her body, deep down into the pit of her stomach, and that was just.... wrong!!!
She held her breath, her body stilled, waiting in anticipation.
It came again, this time accompanied with a slight slurping sound, and now Buffy knew exactly what was going on. SHIT!
"SPIKE!" she hissed, trying not to groan as he responded by rubbing his rapidly growing growing erection against her ass, and tightening his hold on her. She held her breath again, not wanting to admit that it wasn't fear that was causing her heart rate to escalate in such a dramatic fashion.
When he did the slow slurping thing again, that was when Buffy really freaked.
"Spike! Get your fangs out of me!"
Her reply was another slow slurp that sent a jolt of desire through her, causing an unbearable ache to build between her legs. When he slipped a hard, muscled thigh between her legs, she played dumb, even as she found herself grinding against it.
"Is this bloody heaven?" Spike asked, his voice sleepy and slurred through a mouthful of imbedded fangs.
Hearing his rough, familiar voice brought her crashing back to reality, and she resisted the urge to scurry out of the bed, desperate to put distance between them, but not wanting to risk whatever damage his sharp teeth could incur.
No, you idiot! Get your fangs out of me!"
Buffy heard a muffled 'bloody hell', then felt the slippery sensation of his canines easing out of her flesh. As soon as she was free, Buffy elbowed him in the stomach, and jumped out of the bed, spinning around to regard him with acute wariness.
"You bit me," she accused, pointing her index finger at him. "I saved your life, and you... bit me!! Slurping from me... like I was your own personal Slurpee or something!!!"
It didn't take a genius to note the high level of surprise that was evident on his face at her accusation, as he wiped the lingering blood off his face and sucked it off his finger. "Yeah, guess I did, at that."
Spike looked at her, then looked down at the bed, then back at her. "Have to admit to being a bit surprised I didn't drain ya."
Buffy's face flushed with outrage. "Oh! So that's supposed to make me feel better? Because you didn't drain me, I'm supposed to feel grateful?"
"Well, yeah."
"Gah! Well, excuse me if I don't feel grateful. You... bit... me..."
Suddenly a devilish smirk spread across his face. "But you liked it, dinnit you?"
The fact that he had called her on it caused Buffy to lose her self righteous campaign, and she merely gaped at him, struggling to keep her face from turning crimson once more.
'S'ok, luv. Bitings not all about death, you know." Spike patted the bed beside him where she had frantically vacated, and suggested easily, "Why don't you come on back to bed, pet. I have a feeling there's a bit I missed, and you can tell me a bed time story and we can catch a bit more kip."
With the sincerity she easily read in his expressive blue eyes, Buffy felt herself nodding, oddly feeling just a scant amount of wariness but a hefty side of anticipation, as she slid easily under the covers he was lifting up for her so invitingly. As she settled in, she found herself strangely comfortable with the vampire she was supposed to kill tonight.
She had left a light on in the hall, and it was sneaking underneath her closed door, allowing a faint glimmer of illumination for the otherwise dark room. Buffy didn't even want to admit to herself she had drawn the heavy drapes for him.
She was able to see that his acid burns had healed for the most part, and supposed the Slayer Slurpee he had consumed was responsible for that.
There was just a lingering tightness remaining where the Holy Acid had worked its magic, and Buffy allowed herself a sigh of relief, muscles relaxing into the vampire who scooted close to her.
It didn't even feel weird when he wrapped her in his arms and began nuzzling her neck like he had in the shower, it just felt... right. That concept made no sense at all, but Buffy was not about to analyze it too stringently at the moment. She just wanted to go back to sleep.
She was coming to find very quickly that Spike had no problems showing his affection, and they both realized something simultaneously. This easy affection was the exact reason they had fought each other so hard, both fighting emotions and feelings neither wanted to have.
But now they had succumbed to the inevitable.
And they owed it all to the commando guys. Buffy reminded herself briefly to thank them later, after she had finished kicking their asses for the torment they had put Spike through, and what they had done to her.
Spike's hand came to rest possessively on her taunt abdomen, speaking without words the profound change in their relationship. A low rumbling purr echoed from the still chest Buffy was pulled firmly against, and the pulsing vibration added to the lethargy that consumed her.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she knew she would have another version of hell to face in the morning with her friends and Watcher. But for now, sleep beckoned, and her body needed it.
Just as she was being whisked away into slumber, her eyes suddenly popped open of their own accord.
"So... you think I'm fat?"
the end
and back to my regularly scheduled fics, altho I had a LOT of fun with this one!!! :)
a/n- ok, so the chip thing... He was sleeping, ok? What? It works! No, it does!!! Besides, Buffy isn't totally human anyway
|
