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Chapter 5

She knew she was alone in the room the moment she opened her eyes, her body instantly awake and alert for any noise out of the ordinary.  The lack of light around the edges of the curtained windows told her that it was late, her body surprisingly refreshed after having slept the day away. 

A glance around the room revealed that Spike had already gotten started on the research, several books open and spread out on top of the small table.  He’d no doubt gotten hungry at some point and slipped out into the night to feed.  Not her problem.  Out of sight, out of mind.  She wasn’t going to worry about the actions of one vampire, or really any, for that matter.  Her soul purpose for being, the cause that kept her moving, was revenge. 

An eye for an eye. 

Only, she wanted the whole body.  The entire Order would pay for daring to take something from the Slayer. 

Buffy threw the covers off of her and slipped from the bed; her eyes noted the time – a little past midnight – and figured that was why her stomach was rumbling.  She’d slept for almost sixteen hours straight.  Walking over to the table, she peered down at the contents of one of the books before turning her nose up.  There was no way she was going to be able to function without a shower and some food.  She turned to grab a fresh set of clothes and noticed a bag on top of the dresser; beside it was a note in, what she guessed, was Spike’s handwriting. 

Slayer –  

Drink the juice.  All of it.  There are some snacks for you to munch on until I get back with your dinner.  It’s about ten now, shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours. 

Spike

She fingered the bag and looked inside.  Her hand closed over the sixty-four-ounce bottle of orange juice, pulling it from the bag in astonishment.  He wanted her to drink the whole thing?  Then she remembered.  He’d bitten her.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hand automatically going to her dark hair and pulling it out of the way.  Two neat puncture wounds marred the left side of her neck. 

Buffy released her hair, allowing the raven-colored tresses to settle around her shoulders and hide the fresh marks.  Rather than analyze what she may or may not feel about Spike biting her, she popped the top on the plastic container and took a healthy swig of the juice.  The lukewarm fluid was surprisingly refreshing and she almost finished of the container before she realized it.  Capping the lid, she saved the rest for when she ate a candy bar after her shower.  

~*~*~*~*~ 

When Spike let himself into the room, the Slayer was sitting at the table, her feet curled beneath her rump, her nose buried in a book.  His eyes unconsciously roamed over her frame, looking for any minute sign of ill effects caused by him feeding from her earlier.  He chalked his concern up to his demon’s possessiveness, refusing to dwell upon his growing feelings for the slip of a girl in his company.  And, he was pleased to note that the jug of juice he’d purchased for her sat empty on the table, next to a discarded candy wrapper. 

“Is that my dinner I smell?” the Slayer asked him, eyes never leaving the page she was reading. 

“Yep.  Wasn’t sure how long you were gonna sleep, and I didn’t want to wake ya.” 

“Awww, Spike.  I didn’t know you cared.”  Secretly she smiled.  Who knew the Big Bad had a soft spot? 

“I don’t.  Don’t kid yourself…just lookin’ out for me own in’trests.  Wouldn’t do to have the one person guardin’ my back not in top form because of some stomach rumblies,” he snarked.   

“So, bring me my food before my stomach rumblies get the best of me.  I’m hungry.” 

“Well…if someone hadn’t slept all bloody day.” 

“Oh, you’re just mad because you had to read without me.”  Where the sassiness came from, she had no idea.  And, it shocked her to realize that she was comfortable around him. 

“Damn right, I am.  Bet you just opened that book jus’ now because you knew I was comin’,” Spike growled.  He plopped down in the chair beside her, placing the fish and chips he’d obtained from the late night diner on the table in front of her. 

When she continued to read her book, ignoring him and the food he’d gotten for her, he stormed to his feet to take a shower, determined to tune her out, much like she was doing to him.  Her hand shot out, closing around his wrist before he could move, and he glanced over his shoulder, brow arched in question. 

“What’s in the bag?” she asked softly. 

“Fish ‘n chips. Figured it was a safe bet.”  Spike turned around and stared down at the Slayer. 

“Thanks…for bringing me something…” Her voice slowly died off, her eyes unable to break away from his intense gaze.  The air between them suddenly seemed charged with electricity as they moved towards one another.  Both stopped just a hairsbreadth apart.  There was something about this moment that was different than before.  As if they came together now, there’d be no going back.  Neither moved for a space of a moment.  And then another. 

Finally, she whispered his name.   

Spike.   

Nothing more.   

It could have been a question, or a plea.  Something to break the indecision that was holding them both frozen in place.  Unable to commit. 

Spike was the first to draw back, tucking a few loose strands of dark hair behind her ear then stepping back. 

“Eat your dinner before it gets cold, Slayer.  I’m gonna take a shower then we’ll hit the books…See if we can suss out where this Order is hiding.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Buffy watched beneath lowered lids as Spike came out of the shower clad in only a towel.  A towel that hung indecently low on his hips.  She’d never really paid attention to the sculpted lines of his body before.  All the times they’d been together, he’d just been a willing body to comfort her, hold her…and she was sure he felt the same.  They were enemies that had formed a truce in a mutual desire to see the Order brought down. 

Now things were different, well, they felt that way now, and she wasn’t quite sure if she liked it.  Since Angel’s dusting, her heart had been encased in ice, allowing no emotion to seep through.  Except revenge. Revenge was what kept her going when at times all she wanted to do was give up. 

Her eyes returned to the print on the page, rereading the same line several times while Spike slipped on a pair of jeans.  The sound of the zipper rang in her ears, and she forced herself to concentrate on the book in her lap. 

“Anything?” he asked as he lowered himself into a chair and grabbed one of the books he’d been looking through earlier. 

“Nothing concrete.  Just vague references so far.  You?” she asked, referring to the study session he had while she slept. 

“The same…although, this book…” He held up a book on cults. “…seemed promising.  My eyes were starting to cross from all the reading, so I took a break to grab something to eat and come back to it with a fresh set of eyes.” 

“Yeah…I never did understand how Giles and the others could research late into the night.  My eyes are already starting to glaze over and I’ve only been reading for an hour.” 

“Bet you were the first one to make your excuses.” 

“Hey!  Slayer here.  My job was to beat the bad guys, not write a paper on them.” 

“Uh huh.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her book, missing the smile that transformed his features, giving his human visage an almost boyish appeal.  They settled into companionable silence as they read, occasionally getting the other’s attention with brief passages that might be of importance, marking them for further exploration later. 

“Hey, Spike!  Look at this!  It looks like someone drew a floor plan of the Solomon Temple.  The picture is kinda grainy, but it may come in handy.” 

Spike half-rose out of his chair to look over her shoulder at the leather-bound journal she was reading.  Apparently a watcher, disguised as one of the faithful, maybe, had either broken into their inner sanctum and created a map, or he’d overheard bits and pieces and attempted to piece together its layout.  Surprisingly, it looked somewhat like an actual man in design, right down to its fingers.

“Good work, luv.  We’ll save it.  Not sure how reliable it’ll be, but it gives us an idea.  Does the book say anything else, give a location?” 

“Nothing yet, but I’ll keep reading.” 

A few hours later and Buffy was no closer to finding a reference point to the mysterious temple.  Slamming the book shut with disgust, she flung it on the table and leaned back in her chair.  She rolled her shoulders, attempting to relieve the ache that had settled there, her head having been bent over the ancient journal in her lap. 

She glanced at the window and noticed a lightening around the edges signifying the coming dawn, then glanced at the clock on the dresser and closed her eyes as she groaned aloud at the neon numbers glared back at her.  6:00 a.m.  Even with the sixteen plus hours of sleep, after staring at books for the last six hours straight, she was ready for another nap. 

Buffy didn’t protest when Spike’s hand closed around her wrist and hauled her to her feet, tugging her after him towards the bed.  She didn’t have time to feel awkward while he quickly divested her of her clothes and nudged her into bed, slipping out of his jeans and sliding in behind her.  When his arms wrapped around her, she automatically relaxed back against him, feeling oddly protected in his cool embrace. 

“Sleep, luv,” he murmured in her ear. 

She did, drifting off to the gentle vibration of his chest.

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Picture borrowed from here.