Banner by Bloodshedbaby

Chapter 2

The sound of crying, muffled amidst the cadence of the shower, pulled him from a fitful sleep.  He rolled over, squinting towards the lone window as the sun attempted to pry its way around the edges of the thick curtains covering it.  Flopping onto his back at the barely-distinguishable sounds of her wails reached his ears, Spike fisted his hands at his side in frustration.  

There was just something about the broken Slayer’s weeping that struck a cord in his unbeating heart.  He frowned, growling in frustration.  What was it to him if she bawled in the bathtub?  He was evil.  He could care less about her tears!  She was just a good fuck until the two of them defeated the Order.  Hell, then they’d probably have that last dance…and he’d add another Slayer to his notch.  

And, therein lay the rub.  

She wasn’t just an easy lay, a willing body.   

There was something about her willingly giving him her blood that seemed to erase all of the mortal enemy barriers between the two.  They’d gone into this quest as reluctant partners, but as the days played out, they’d seemed to rely more and more on the other, trusting that the other would keep them safe when they were at their most vulnerable.  

After almost losing her to those three attackers back stateside, he’d become very possessive of the Slayer – looking out for her like she was his.  

Disgusted with himself for feeling this way, and at the Slayer for making him feel this way, Spike threw himself out of bed and stalked naked towards the bathroom.  The door stood partially open, probably so she could hear if someone were to discover them again, and he pushed it open, ignoring the steam that enveloped him as he stepped inside.  His gaze locked on the petite form of the Slayer as she stood under the shower, her arms braced against the wall in front of her, her body shaking as she sobbed.  

Growling again at his softening feelings, Spike shoved the translucent curtain aside and climbed in behind her.  His arms lifted, enabling him to clasp her shoulders to turn her around and pull her body towards his.  He felt her stiffen at the contact – tears momentarily suspended in surprise.  Then, her body nestled against his in a comforting embrace and his unexpected compassion restarted her weeping.  

In the shower, the two mortal enemies clung to one another while the Slayer gave in to her grief.  

When the water started to run cold and the last of the shudders wracking the Slayer’s slim frame faded away, Spike reached behind her and cut off the taps.  His gentleness surprised him as he dealt with the Slayer – easing out of her grasp to snag some towels from the metal rack and wrapping them around her dripping body – and he told himself he just wanted her to stop with her incessant sniveling so that he could actually get some more rest.  She wasn’t the only one pulling long hours of wakefulness, senses attuned to the slightest ripple that appeared out of place.  Frankly, his reserves were on low and he needed the restorative healing a deep slumber provided.  And he repeated that litany to himself as he swept her pliant form up into his bare arms and resettled them into bed.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy woke a few hours later and carefully disentangled herself from the vampire’s protective grasp.  Rising from the bed, she turned and watched his unnaturally still form while he slept on.  His permanently evil countenance appeared nonexistent as he rested, his features soft as if that of an angel.  Sinful thoughts to be sure, especially given what he was.  But, as she gazed at him, sleeping so peacefully, he appeared almost human.  

A strange pang centering in her abdomen brought her from the silent musing of her reluctant partner, and she gazed down at her naked frame in confusion.  It took her a moment to realize that it was hunger pains making themselves known.  Her eyes widened in shock that she was actually hungry.  Hungry.  As in, all-you-can-eat buffet, wheel-me-out-when-I’m-done kind of hungry.  

Hurriedly dressing in the new clothes of her “goth-ish” look, Buffy grabbed the key and made her way out of the apartment and down to the streets of Soho.  

~*~  

She’d never traveled out of California, so the trip across the ocean to London was an eye-opening experience.  At another time, in another life, she would have fully appreciated the sights and sounds that assaulted her senses and enjoyed playing tourist in a different land.  But, things were different.  

She wasn’t that girl anymore.  

She was on the hunt with an evil vampire as her sole companion.  

Steely resolve stiffening her spine, Buffy set off to find food while surreptitiously examining the area for possible Order assassins.  Figuring a bar would be the best place to keep a low profile, she walked along the streets until locating one that seemed to cater to her “crowd.”  Ironically, it was the same place Spike had visited the night before.  

No one paid the girl any mind, especially after she put someone almost twice her size – and a little on the drunk side – out of commission by stopping the hand that reached towards her body, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind the behemoth’s back and pinning him to the wall before he even had a chance to voice a protest.  

She never opened her mouth to protest his attempted manhandling, but the sinister way she raised his arm behind his back, nearly causing it to pop from its socket, clearly conveyed her message.  

Don’t fuck with me, and we’ll get along fine.  

A whimpered apology sprung from his lips and Buffy released his arm, slightly shifting her shoulders so that her jacket would settle around her frame.  She walked off without a backward glance, ignoring the looks she received. As long as no one approached her, they could look all they wanted.   

She just wanted food, possibly information, and maybe even the means to more weapons.  But, she had to have the food.  

Settling herself in a darkened corner, her back to the wall so that no one could sneak up behind her, Buffy waited patiently until a barely-clad waitress made her way over to the her table.  The Slayer’s eyes scanned the club’s occupants while she waited, easily dismissing them all as human and not deserving of her attention.  

Setting the menu down in front of her, the waitress smacked her gum and asked for her drink order.  Buffy glanced up at the girl and cringed. The redheaded waitress sported enough piercing to play connect the dots across her face.  Clad in clothes similar to hers, although, far more revealing, the girl shifted from hip to hip as she waited for Buffy to answer.  

“Water, and bring a pitcher.”  

If the waitress thought the request was unusual, she didn’t voice any complaints.  The Slayer was playing it smart.  Without Spike at her back, she needed to be wary of any liquids she ingested – especially in this district – with all the date rape drugs that probably abounded in this area.  Water was the most difficult liquid to drug because you could tell right off if someone had tampered with it.  So, she’d stick with it.  

As the redheaded girl walked away, Buffy glanced through the menu, not really understanding the native lingo.  Her eyes honed in on the fish and chips and figured it would be a safe bet to order.   

Her water suddenly appeared and Buffy quickly drained a glass before giving her order.  That, too, came surprisingly quickly.  The sheer volume of food unnerved her, but as the minutes ticked by, the pile shrank until nothing but crumbs remained.  Apparently, her appetite was back in full force, if the empty plate were any indication.  With a satisfied smack to her lips, she leaned back in the booth and once more scanned the few occupants of the bar.  

Again, no one tingled her Slayer senses and she left enough money on the bar to cover the tab and a sizeable tip.  Rising to her feet, she exited the building and wandered down the sunny streets, taking a circuitous route back to the motel in case she may have picked up any unwanted stalkers.  

~*~*~*~*~  

Buffy let herself into the room just as the sun started to set in the sky.  Her eyes strayed immediately towards the bed where Spike’s blue eyes pinned her in place.  She’d obviously woken him with her approach, a natural predator responding to a possible threat to his home.  Seeing that it was only she, his taut frame relaxed back into the bed, his arms folding behind his neck as he watched her enter the room.  His knowing eyes roamed her body, noting the lack of fatigue that had been a constant companion since their headlong escape from Sunnydale since…was it only just a few days ago?  

With complete lack of modesty, Buffy stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed beside Spike.  Sated from a hearty lunch, she murmured a drowsy, “Wake me at midnight,” before drifting off to sleep.  Much to the bemusement of Spike.  

His lips curled into a smile at the Slayer before he slipped from the bed to don some clothes.  Once dressed, he paused at the door of their room to glance back at the slumbering girl.  He ignored the hunger that made its presence known as he gazed down at her relaxed body.   

The bit of crying she’d done in the shower must have helped.  No longer did she appear just a shell of her former self.  Small bits of the brazen, spunky Slayer seemed to be shining through.  And, Spike was glad to see her starting to appear more like her normal self.  Turning away, he let himself out – with the forthcoming breaking and entering the two had planned for later on this evening, he’d need to top off his blood reserves to make sure that he was more than ready to deal with whatever might come their way.  

As night enveloped the Soho district, Spike breathed deeply of the sin and sex that permeated the area and provided him with such ripe pickings.  With a badass attitude and a swagger in his step, he blended into the crowds to hunt for dinner.

next

REVIEW ME!!