A/N: Please review.
Buffy awoke to the sounds of moaning and banging. She moved closer to Spike and tried to get back to sleep. Spike slipped his arm around her.
“Do they have to be so loud and couldn’t they wait two weeks until they got home?” she mumbled into Spike’s chest.
“You think it’s bad? I have super hearing,” he complained, “I am definitely asking Tinkerbell to soundproof their room too.”
“Spike,” Buffy said, “Why are we hearing this if our room is sound proofed?”
“We can hear what’s going on outside, but no one can hear what’s happening in here. I thought it would be too dangerous if we did it any other way. If we couldn’t hear what was going on in the rest of the house, something could come in and kill everyone with out us ever knowing,” Spike said.
“Good thought,” she said.
The moaning stopped and everything was blissfully silent for a moment. Suddenly, Buffy said, “Do you think I’m a demon.” Spike sat straight up. He stared at her. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears.
“What brought this on?” he asked.
“Do you think I’m a demon?” she repeated, “You said you did.”
“Of course I don’t think you’re a demon. I said a lot of things that I didn’t mean that night…we both did.”
“But you can hit me,” she said in a small voice.
“I’m sure there is some perfectly logical explanation for that. I’ll ask Red to research it,” he said.
“If I am a demon, do you still love me?”
“Buffy,” Spike said, “If you grew horns or became a slime demon, I would still love you.”
“What if I became a vampire?” she said in a small voice.
“I would still love you. In fact, I’d get your soul for you,” he said, “What ever you are or how ever you look, I will love you. You should stop worrying about that and start worrying about how we’re going to entertain our uninvited guests for the next two weeks.”
“I don’t want to,” she said. She started to pout.
“Look at that lip,” he said, “Gonna get it.” He leaned forward and nipped her bottom lip. Then he pulled her closer and kissed her. “Why don’t we go downstairs and you can help me make pancakes.”
“Okay,” she said reluctantly.
~*~
“What can I do to help?”
Spike handed her a carton of strawberries and a knife. “You can cut strawberries in case anyone wants some,” he said. She quietly began cutting them. After a moment, Spike heard a sharp intake of breath. He smelled Buffy’s blood. He turned to her and said, “What happened?”
She shrugged. “I cut myself,” she said. She offered him her slightly bloody hand. He took it and gently licked it clean. Spike smelled her arousal. He was sorely tempted to bend her over the counter and have his wicked way with her, but he knew everyone would be waking up soon. He let go of her hand and they both went back to their respective jobs.
~*~
Six days later….
Buffy and Spike could hear the racket in the basement that was the result of Lorne teaching Willow, Dawn, and Tara how to sing. Buffy was cleaning the guestroom and Spike was making yet another meal. Buffy walked own the stairs and through the lessons to reach the washer. She dumped the sheets in, turned it on and left. Once in the kitchen, she spotted Cordelia and Angel who were sitting on the couch and were, once again, lip locked. Conner rushed by her. He went down to the basement to see Dawn.
Fred walked up to Buffy and said, “I think you’re out of toilet paper.”
Wesley said, ‘You’re out of tea and beer.”
“Thanks for telling me,” she said with a halfhearted smile. She glanced desperately at Spike. He was putting the finishing touches on the dinner. Cordelia walked up to Buffy and wordlessly dropped a load of laundry in her arms. Buffy ventured downstairs again and placed it on to of the washer.
Spike set dinner on the table and said to Wesley, “We’re going to go grocery shopping. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Wesley nodded. Spike grabbed Buffy’s hand firmly and walked right out the door. His motorcycle was parked outside. Buffy didn’t protest. When he sat down she practically leapt on behind him. She desperately needed to get out of there. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and rested her cheek against him leather clad back. He sped away from the house.
They entered the store in silence and began to shop. Suddenly Buffy giggled.
“What’s so funny, pet?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I never imagined that we’d be doing something so…”
“..domestic,” he supplied.
“Exactly,” she said, “It just seems kind of funny to me.”
“I guess it is,” he said and he smiled. He had never thought that the Slayer would love him, let alone go grocery shopping with him.
“I guess we’re playing house,” she said, “Except, we’re not playing…and our house is full of guests…and we haven’t had sex in six days, let alone actually have a minute to ourselves.” She sighed.
When they got to the cash register, Buffy began to pull out her credit card. Spike stayed her hand and made a tsk-ing noise. He pulled out his own credit card any swiped it through. As they walked out of the store, Spike said, “When out guests leave, remind me to go and make you a joint account holder.”
~*~
Before Spike unlocked the door, he turned and said to Buffy, “When we get inside, go up to your room immediately and put on something that you could wear to an expensive restaurant.”
“Why?” she said, slightly confused.
“Just do it.”
While she changed, he walked into the kitchen. He placed the groceries on the counter. Then, he turned to Willow, who was leaning against the counter and handed her a piece of paper.
“I’ll be back tomorrow night with Buffy. This is my cell phone number. If she stays in this house for one more minute, she will either have to be institutionalized or she will slay someone or something,” he said.
Willow nodded. “I noticed. She could definitely use some down time. Tara and I will handle everything and make up excuses,” she said with a grin, “I haven’t had to make up excuses since we were in high school.”
“Thanks, Red,” he said. He walked into the hallway, just in time for Buffy to walk down the stairs. He grinned when he saw what she was wearing. Her outfit also caused another, much lower reaction. She was wearing the same shirt and skirt that she had been wearing that first night, when the knocked down the building. The only difference was that she was wearing a shawl instead of a jean jacket. He took her hand and the walked out the door without a backward glance.
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