A/N: This drabble/ficlet is for spike'smrs as a little compensation for her not so bright pupils and a hubbie who surely watched every game. She was also so kind to do the beta-ing.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, I would know if Spike was mine. . .
Telly Time
Buffy stormed into the crypt, her need for release of the sexual variety was obvious to everyone who looked at her. The fact, that she was almost frantically discarding her clothing as she made her way into her vampires home would have clued in even the dumbest Fyarl demon out there.
The vampire in question, however, lacked his usual eager puppy dog reaction to her arrival and the cloud of arousal that surrounded her. Instead his eyes where glued to the small new television set, he had 'acquired' the other day. His rigid posture on the edge of the seat was only broken when he jumped up to shout and gesture wildly at the small coloured screen or to take a few nervous puffs from his cigarette and to gulp down several swallows of his 'imported?' beer.
The Slayer stopped in her tracks when she noticed that she wasn't getting her accustomed reception from the normally overly amorous blonde, who'd have had her half way to her first orgasm by now and stared dumbfounded as he once again leaped out off his recliner and growled obscenities at the tv. She thought she even saw his game face flicker on and off during his rant about halfwitted nancyboys, who got paid way too much dosh for their own good and were too bleeding stupid to run properly.
"NOO!! You effing pillock, pass on the ball to the other flank, Lampard's all free!" He growled angrily at the tiny figures, that were chasing a ball all over a field.
"Posh finally screwed the last of your brains out or why are you playin' like a complete plonker??" he snarled when the screen showed a close up of a well built blonde player, who once again lost the ball to someone from the other team. "Yeah well, named your sprogs Brooklyn, Romeo and Cruz, all good and proper British names, ponce." He snorted with disdain as he resumed his seat.
When he still didn't acknowledge her presence, she cleared her throat loudly and got even more irritated when she was completely ignored. She all but growled his name this time.
"SPIKE!"
His head swivelled to face her, but he still kept glancing back to the screen.
"What?" he asked distractedly. He seemed almost annoyed to find her standing in his home.
She shot him a pointed glare and and swept her hand down her nude body in a motion perfected by countless generations of dollys, who presented the grand prizes on the shows he sometimes watched when he got too bored.
He shot her a blank look at first before he took in her state of undress and the scent of arousal that perfumed the otherwise stale air in the crypt.
"Finished your patrol already, pet?" he asked with a barely concealed trace of disappointment in his voice, his shoulders slumped.
When the sound of angry whistles and shouts drifted over from the television his posture went rigid, he turned back around and she was ignored... again.
With an indignant huff she stalked over to stand in front of the tv-set her hands on her hips. "Yes, I'm finished. What's wrong with you Spike, we both know why I'm here, shouldn't you already... you know?"
"What? Shag you senseless till you can't remember your own name?" he queried absent-mindedly as he tried to get a look at the tv around her, craning his neck from the left to the right and back again. "Maybe later. Come by in... about an 'our. 'm busy."
"What?" she squeaked staring at him slack jawed. Had she fallen into another dimension, because there could be no way Spike would turn down the chance to have sex with her, could there?
"Slayer 's much as I love your pert little bum, do you think you could move it away from the telly?" he finally requested when she still didn't move.
Buffy slowly moved to the side with a bewildered frown, that crinkled her brow "You'd rather watch some stupid soccer game than have sex. . . spend time with me?" she asked dejectedly.
'Uh oh, better be careful now mate' Spike thought as he caught on to Buffys change in demeanour and the insecurity in her voice.
He was out off his chair and had her scooped up, before she even noticed, that he had moved. He returned to his recliner and plopped down with her perched securely on his lap, nuzzling her neck affectionately. "You should know by now, that I love you more than anything, kitten. I'd never choose a game of football over my golden goddess."
"But?" she prompted, although she was immensely relieved to know that she still had his love, even if she ignored why that was so important to her.
"It's the world cup, luv." he whined piteously "An' England's reached the quarter finals." he added with an adorable pout.
'Damn that lip should be illegal' She heaved a sigh "Fine how long will it take till they are finished?"
His whole face was lit up as he beamed at her. "It won't be longer than an hour, one and a half at most. I promise, I'll make it up to you, pet. I'll make you come until you pass out from ecstasy." The last part was purred seductively into her ear before he nibbled his way along her jaw line. Her reaction was instantaneously as her body was lit up with desire.
She wriggled in his lap and grinned in triumph when she elicited a lusty growl from his lips.
The sounds of the football game drifted through the lusty haze that clouded his mind and with a last hard kiss he gripped her waist and planted her firmly on her feet next to the chair.
"Why don't you grab a pony an' head over to the Bronze, kitten. Get us spicy buffalo wings and some of those flowering onion things. If you hurry you can be back right in time for half time an' I'll give you a little appetiser." He told her with his best leer and that sexy smirk with the curled tongue that made her knees go weak.
"Huh?" having just realized that his ministrations had stopped, she stared at him with a confused look. 'God please don't tell me the big ho's insanity was contagious after all...' "Pony?"
He rummaged in the pockets of his duster, that was draped over the arm of the chair, and handed her some bills. "Money, pet. It's a British expression." he told her with a smile before he turned his attention back to the game.
Buffy, now fully dressed, just took the money and shook her head as he started to gesture and grumble at the tv once again. "You know, you English guys are majorly weird." But he was already absorbed in the game and ignored her
"That appetiser damn well better be good." she muttered to herself as she stomped out of the crypt to get the food.
The End (or is there interest in a smutty chapter two??)
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