Banner by Selene2

This fic is written for megan_peta for her tireless work betaing this fic and so many more for me! Also for her encouragement to write more of what was intended to be a short series, her excitement over each chapter has been the reason I carried on with it! Megan I hope you enjoys *g*

 

Chapter 7

She was bone tired.

The night had been a revelation to her. She was tired and achy, but in a good way. A pleasant burn to her muscles and her thighs where they still quivered from the workout they’d gotten. All in a very, very good way--her body was humming with a suppressed excitement that she thought would have waned by now. She felt elated and satiated at the same time, something she’d never felt before with any of the other guys she’d hung out with.

“Coffee?”

She twitched slightly at the sound of his voice. Where the hell was she and what had she done? And oh my god, her mom was gonna kill her!

Buffy rolled over and promptly fell off the sofa and onto the hardwood floor with a resounding thump. “Owie.” She balefully glared up at the laughing pest and rubbed her head. She was about to launch into a blistering telling off when her mouth dried up and her sleepy eyes widened in shock and appreciation. He was standing over her dressed in a pair of low slung sweats, the waist barely hanging onto his lean hips. Her mouth watered as she took in the strong muscles that were defining his oh so lickable chest and six-pack. She blinked and then checked again. He was sooo not wearing anything under them! She squeaked in surprise and scrambled backwards, her hands making contact with a softly snoring form.

“Xander?” Buffy frowned in confusion. Had she fallen into some weird ass dimension where sexy vampires wandered around half naked and her best friends were sleeping on floors oblivious to the hormone fest.

“Pet? You alright?” Spike squatted down and reached for the confused and aroused girl. He could see her skin flushing redder and redder as her pupils dilated and her arousal scented the air around her. He was relieved that her friends were sleeping on, oblivious to the tableau of cute, aroused and confused slayer.

Buffy nodded, trying to stop her eyes from following the lines of his bulge that was starting to twitch and grow slightly. She wanted to scream that it was huge and the point at it, but managed not to. ‘Not cool—not cool at all, Buffy! Oh my god! Ignore the bulge and stare at his chest…noooo, dammit, that’s way too lickable, stare into his eyes. Oh god, his gorgeous eyes and hey! Is he laughing at me?’ Unconsciously mirroring Spike, she cocked her head and raised a sardonic brow at him.

“Come’ere, pet.” Spike reached out a steady hand, smiling gently when her clammy palm slipped into his and he pulled her away from the still snoring Xander. He steered her around Willow’s supine form and into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Morning beautiful. So are you going to answer me?” Spike reluctantly let her hand go, his thumb lingering for a brief caress of the sleep warmed skin. He stared unabashedly at her; she was a vision of cuteness. All sleep rumpled and flushed. He cocked his head again. ‘Is she staring at my package? Cheeky little minx.’

Buffy tore her eyes away from his groin area and blushed again. “Wha?” She began to fidget under his knowing gaze. She was about to smack his smirk off his face when he broke the silence, again.

“Coffee? Tea? Or…” his eyes twinkled wickedly, “me?” his voice dropping into a deeper pitch. He couldn’t resist teasing her; she’d done enough of that on the dance floor last night, writhing all over him like a cat in heat. Turn about was fair play. His lips still tingled at the memory of their first two kisses and he wanted more, something he’d have to sort fairly soon, he mentally reminded himself.

“Spike, sheesh. Chill with the sexiness and enough with the not so concealed innuendoiness,” she hissed, risking a glance at the firmly shut door. “They might hear!”

“So?” Spike leant back against the counter with an unrepentant smile on his full lips.

“Well…”

“Yeah?” he teased.

“Um…”Buffy decided that obviously the new colour this year for her was beet red as she felt her face burn hot with embarrassment. “They’re asleep. No need to give them an early morning wake up call that might freak them out.” She figured that neither Xander nor Willow had much experience, and if they overheard Spike flirtage it may turn them gay or something from the trauma.

“Ahhh.” Spike noticed that she hadn’t said anything along the lines of ‘ewww, no way in hell and a pox on your willy’, which filled him with an irrepressible glee. She may be an innocent, and more importantly a slayer, but it seemed that he was in with a chance. As long as he was a good puppy and also waited until she was a wee bit older. As it was he felt like a pervert letching after her nubile body. His eyes glazed over at the memory of her rubbing the aforesaid body all over him again. He could still feel her leg twining around his hips as she had dirty danced with him; he was still amazed that they hadn’t been chucked out of the Bronze. Or that Peaches hadn’t had an embolism on the spot, come to think of it. Apart from the few minutes when he’d lurched out of the shadows and been corralled by Willow, he’d not seen the Brooding Limpet again.

“Juice please.” Buffy’s sweet voice pulled him away from his wondering where his shadow had gotten to and back to the present. He busied himself with putting together some grub for her.

“No probs.” He’d slipped out during the night and stockpiled on food in preparation for the morning after the sleepover. Spike mentally shook his head at how his unlife had changed so radically, all due to a wish from his not so lamented sire. Spike had slowly accepted over the few short weeks since he’d arrived at the Hellmouth that Dru had not wanted him. His demon railed that the ease of her chucking away one hundred years of loyalty. Well, loyalty on his behalf. He’d smelled enough vamps and demons on her over the years to sink a battleship, but he’d loved her so much that he’d forgiven her each infidelity easily. But then there was Buffy, a tiny beam of sunlight that had entranced him with her strength and sweetness. Bugger that, the entire package was just about perfect. They fit, fit in a way that had shocked his socks off and silenced his demon, who was he to complain? Well, not anymore apparently

“Ohhh are those blueberry and white chocolate?” Buffy’s eyes were latched onto the muffins he began to put into the oven to warm, she hoped she wasn’t drooling. “Oh…and you got triple chocolate as well, the perfect yum.” She mentally added that he was the perfect yum as well, all with the bed hair and muscles and food.

“Figured you lot’d be a bit peckish.” Spike handed her a glass of chilled OJ and ducked his head in embarrassment at the look of adoration in her eyes.

She was hooked; all guilt about Angel was filtering away. Spike was shaping out to be the perfect vamp/guy. Not only did he help with the slayage and research, he also made an effort with Willow and Xander, something Angel had not really tried to do. She realised that the incipient crush she’d zealously nurtured for the other vampire was fading away in the light of his dynamic family member who’d blasted into their lives.

Spike glanced up as he straightened from the oven and couldn’t resist it. He took a few long strides over to her, his lean fingers cupping her chin and tilting her head up. Leaning down he stole a soft sweet kiss, his mouth brushing over her lips several times before his tongue flickered over, asking for permission. With a soft sigh and utter disregard to morning breath, Buffy parted her lips and suckled gently on his tongue. Spike moaned in the back of his throat as a shot of arousal jolted down to his groin.

With a happy sigh he hauled her against him and devoured her mouth. Pressing biting kisses over her cheeks and down her throat before reaching her shoulders, Spike slowly licked and nibbled his way up and down. Savouring the taste of her skin, he could feel his cock twitching against her stomach and tried to arch away a bit so as not to frighten her off. Buffy grumbled against his ear and then caught his lobe in her teeth and gave it a firm suck. Her hands drifted down his back, memorising each cut muscle until her hands boldly cupped his perky ass and pulled him back against her.

~~~~~~~~~

She shifted and turned, her hand reaching out for him. But the bed was empty except for her. She frowned in confusion and sat up, clutching the sheet modestly to her breasts. Irritably she shook her shoulders at the sensation of feathers drifting down her back. It was itchy and gross; she absently scratched her shoulder, oblivious to the destruction wrought.

“Hello?”

There was nothing, only silence in the apartment.

She slid out from under the covers, her eyes searching for her clothes. They lay scattered on the floor; she could mentally trace their path into the room last night by the layout of her shirt, skirt, bra and panties. Shivering slightly at the cold, she bent over and grabbed them and dressed quickly, grimacing at the sensation of their mingled juices seeping out of her as she pulled on her black lace thong.

“So need a shower…”

~~~~~~~

“Ahhh, face washing, soooo not what a guy needs to see first thing!”

Buffy and Spike pulled reluctantly apart at the sound of Xander’s voice. Spike surreptitiously slipping behind her to hide his raging erection against her soft backside. He looped his hands around her slim waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Buffy giggled and tilted her head slightly to accommodate him.

“Hey, Xander.” Buffy gave him a small wave and studiously tried to ignore Spike’s hardness as he pressed his hips against her.

“Morning, Buffster.” He gave them a sheepish grin and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He’d sorta expected to find the two of them macking, especially after the Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey impersonations last night. He was kind of relieved that it was Spike and not Angel. There was something about that vamp that was just plain wrong. Spike instead was more his kinda guy, not that he’d ever admit that out aloud as the ego on the guy was big enough as it was. Instead, he settled on bantering with the vampire and slowly accepting that he was not going anywhere and might actually be an asset for Buffy. Anything that kept Buffy alive and happy was a big check in the plus column. Not that it meant he couldn’t tease the hell out of them, Xander smirked. ‘They made a cute couple, though.’

Any shades of jealousy or envy had faded away recently. He had realised that Buffy only saw him as a Xander-shaped friend and not studly material, which had bummed him for a while. There had been several sessions of country music and moping, but then Willow had gotten bored with the pity-me sessions and curtly informed him that best friends lasted longer than boyfriends. With that he’d realised that a) Willow really was clever and b) that he could live with being around for a long time being a friend and big brother to Buffy.

“Ohhh, I smell baked yumminess. Spike, dude, you coulda told me you were Martha Stewart’s baby brother!”

“Oi, less of that Whelp, or I’ll spit in your juice. Or better yet, every time you have a cappuccino you’ll wonder just what sorta foamy goodness that is.” Spike made hacking noises, “would you like an extra shot of phlegm and snot with that, sir?”

Buffy turned green. “That is so not necessary. You realise I’ll never be able to drink cappuccinos again.” She shuddered and wriggled away from Spike, exposing his erection in all its glory.

“Oh…” Willow stood frozen in the doorway, her face nearly purple with embarrassment at the sight of happy Spike Jr.

“Slayer! Bit of warning, luv,” Spike clapped his hands over his groin and leapt behind the breakfast bar. His ears turned a faint shade of pink, “Sorry, Red.” Ordinarily he’d love shocking innocents, before sucking the marrow out of their bones. But there was a childlike sweetness to the little redhead that kicked his long forgotten Victorian manners into overdrive. He was buggered and strangely not too worried, for once he was happy.

~~~~~~~
She was in hell.

That was all it could be.

He was laughing at her, mocking her. It was the worst thing she’d ever experienced in her entire life. She took a deep breath and tried to suppress the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. He was standing there stripped to the waist, dressed only in a pair of leather pants. His face was set in impassive lines, his eyes filled with a malicious glee and his mouth pouring venom.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Slowly, with each word, a part of her died. Leaving a hollow husk of a girl—she resembled nothing of the confident teen she was.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach and stared up at him, her lips forming weak tear filled words that she hated herself for saying.

“Was it me? Did I do something wrong?”

~~~~~~~~
Spike looked around the table, stunned at the easy cameradie and banter that flowed around him, extending to include him as well. Gone were the days when he was a lonely poet aching for love and friendship. Gone also were the days where he was still on the outside despite being one quarter of the Scourge of Europe. All the nights yearning for Dru when she was screwing her Daddy cross-eyed or out playing with her victims, he’d never fit in. Not until now, and the irony wasn’t lost on him. They should’ve been his enemies; the Slayer should be reaching for a stake, not the maple syrup and her friends. Well, she shouldn’t have them. He had learned over the centuries that a Slayer fought alone, not with this sort of backup. The same sort of backup that he had slowly become for her and despite himself, he liked it, fighting side by side with a warrioress who matched him in wits and fists.

Chuckling briefly, he handed the elusive bottle to his fair maiden and then leant back to sip at his mug. The whole living from a baggie was something that he was still getting used to, but Angel had hooked him up with a good supply and he was slowly adjusting to the transition. “So what’re your plans for the day?”
Before any of them could reply, there was a heart shattering scream. A scream of such volume that it felt like his eardrums might rupture.

“Oh my god.”

“What the hell was that?”

“Buffy, what is going on?”

They all clamoured to their feet and headed out in search of the poor girl whose screams filled the entire building with their horror and agony.

“Jeez, it sounds like she’s being tortured,” Xander panted as he followed after Spike and Buffy down the stairs. The two supernatural blond’s feet pounded down the stairs, gleaming weapons in hand and unerringly heading in the direction of the heartrending voice that had besieged their peaceful breakfast. That had resulted in the mad scramble to save her.

~~~~~~~~

She was huddled in the corridor, curled up and rocking against the dank wall. Her shaking hands ran repeatedly over her shorn head, the anguished wails emitting from her mouth never diminishing. Her brown locks were haphazardly cut, some longer than others, but in other places her scalp shone through under the harsh florescent lighting. Spike sniffed the air, the scent of sex overwhelming his senses. He recognised the male seed that was drying between the girls thighs and shuddered. He’d smelt that often enough on the She-Bitch and his insane sire. “What the bloody hell has the git done?” he whispered to himself and then glared around the narrow corridor, wondering where he’d gone.

“Hello?” Buffy cautiously approached the pitiful figure. Something about the girl was familiar. It was the clothes, and she’d seen someone wearing them last night at the Bronze. Her heart began to thump faster; Buffy glanced over at Spike and frowned. “It’s...” Before she could say anymore, Xander skidded around the corner, closely followed by Willow. Both their faces were pale with concern.

Their clattering feet alerted the keening girl’s attention and she looked up through tear filled eyes.

“My hair.” Cordelia held out her hands, the long strands lay in her palms. “He cut off my hair.”

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