Bungled Attempts

by SpikesKat

His current predicament was all the Slayer’s fault. 

He growled at his adversary, his amber gaze narrowing as he tried to stare her down.  He was the Big Bad, even if he did have a chip in his head, and this female would do well to remember that.  Besides, it wasn’t like she was human.  In the blink of an eye, he could have her by the scruff of her neck and drained in a matter of seconds.   

When she hissed back at him, arching her back in defiance, he almost did it.  Only Glinda’s subsequent reaction stayed his fangs. 

Eyeing the creature, well, creatures – his drunken vision seeing three instead of just the one – Spike mentally planned his next attack.  His duster flared slightly as he paced in a horseshoe around the bed, trying to find its weakest point. 

She seemed to scoff at his attempts, settling in the middle of the bed like she didn’t have a care in the world, just her head turning as she tracked his movements.  

Spike turned his back on her, hoping that she’d think he’d lost interest.  He whistled an off key tune and made like he was headed for the door.  Just as he reached the foot of the bed, he turned and sprang onto the mattress. 

Only she was faster…and apparently a whole lot nimbler.   

He could tell she was gloating as she easily moved a few spaces to the right and out of his path just before he made contact.   

‘Mock me, will you?’ 

He lunged after her, his hands closing around air as she easily leaping to the bureau situated against the wall.  Problem was, it left him dangling too far over the side, and he ended up crashing face-first onto the floor. 

His final humiliation was when she leapt down from her perch and sat on her haunches before him, then crouched down to peer intently into his eyes. 

Spike shook his head to clear his vision, his eyes struggling to bring the blurry image into focus – the drink and now this knock to the head really not helping matters.  When he finally succeeded in his attempts, he growled again.  Buggerin’ female.  She was mocking him.  Was staring at him with the whole “cat-that-ate-the-canary” grin! 

Once again he blamed the Slayer for his condition.  If she’d not come to his crypt, drinking his whiskey so that he felt he had to join her in her overindulgence, this never would have happened. 

The door to the room burst open and the object of his ire stood framed in the doorway, a frown marring her features. 

“What are you doing?” she hissed.  “You’ve been up here for ten minutes already!  You’re just lucky no one is around to hear all the noise you’ve been making.” 

“’S not my fault.  She’s not cooperatin’,” he complained.  ‘Oh yeah.  Way to make yourself appear even more of a bloody git, Spike.’ 

Buffy narrowed her eyes and stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.  She walked over to the vampire and leaned down to scoop the bundle of fur up into her arms. 

“What do you want with Miss Kitty?” she asked, her drunken brain not putting two and two together.  She was easily distracted by the purring of the cat as she cuddled it close, so she missed the eye roll from the blond still laid out on the floor. 

“What the hell do you think I want with her, Slayer?”  His frustration made his voice rather loud, startling both the cat and the slayer. 

“Shhhh!!” Buffy hissed, her brows drawing together again in a fierce frown.  Suddenly, her eyes widened in dawning realization.  “You were gonna steal her for your poker game…weren’t you?” 

“No—” 

“You were too!  That’s what all the noise was.  You were chasing her around the room!” she accused. 

“Was not!” Spike denied, gaining his feet so he could at least have the height advantage.  At her raised brow, he added under his breath, “Was only gonna borrow her for a wee bit…just until I won me a few hands.” 

Buffy gasped. 

“Wot?” 

“You were gonna gamble with Miss Kitty Fantastico?” Fantastico came out as a high squeak. 

“Bloody hell, Slayer!” he complained as his fingers fiddled with his ears to stop their sudden ringing.  “Weren’t like I was gonna lose…” 

Buffy sputtered at his explanation, eyes wide in astonishment; her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find words to convey her outrage. 

“Anyway, since you’ve got ‘er, we can be off now.”  Spike turned away from the slayer and moved to the door. 

“I’m not letting you take her with us!” 

She’d found her voice, halting the vampire in his tracks.  He turned around, and Buffy forced herself to ignore his sexy pout. 

“Well, why not?”  He asked, not understanding her reticence.  “I said I’d bring ‘er back.” 

“You don’t know that,” Buffy told him. 

“Yes, I do.”  His smirk said it all. 

“You cheat!”  Once more the eyes had gone comically wide. 

“Well, yeah!  But, ‘s not cheatin’ unless you get caught.  And I never get caught.” 

He winked at her, and Buffy felt her legs turn to mush.  Wasn’t right that a demon could be so sexy… 

And whoa!  That’s twice now she’d put Spike and sexy in the same sentence?  She must be losing her mind.  That had to be it. 

She really needed more booze. 

Spike could see her wavering.  He liked this side of the Slayer.  Relaxed, more carefree.  Smiling with her eyes, even if she did have a frown upon her face. 

“Come on, Slayer.  Have I ever steered you wrong?” 

Her pointed look said it all.  Her grip tightened on the cat as if it would prevent him from changing her mind. 

He took matters in his own hands, returning to her side to help usher her out the door.  Sometimes the slayer just needed a nudge to get her going, and now looked to be one of those times. 

They were halfway down the stairs when she suddenly stopped. 

“If you lose, you’re so cat-napping her back.”  

Spike just smiled behind her back and applied pressure to her shoulder to get her moving again.

The End  

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