Chapter 7

While she was distracted by yet another mind-numbing kiss, he placed the second box into her hand.

Playfully pushing him away, she teased, "Gee Spike, did you rob a jewelry store?"

The box was quickly snatched from her. "If that’s the way you’re going to play, then forget it."

Her bottom lip began to form a pout. "I was only teasing..."

He wouldn’t bring his eyes to meet hers, only stared down into his lap, fingering the box she’d held. "No you weren’t."

"Spiiiike...come on! Pleeeeeease?" She tugged on his sleeve. No answer—except for shaking his head.

"I’ll be good....promise," she insisted. But he wouldn’t budge. Not an inch! Ok, it was time to pull out all the stops!

His statue-still body remained immovable. Straddling his legs, she moved in for a kiss. But he turned his head and she ended up with a mouthful of his hair. The hair gel didn’t leave a pleasant aftertaste in her mouth and she wiped her lips in disgust.

Obviously this wasn’t going to work so easily. Pouting was usually all she’d had to use to blackmail him. A kiss was a surefire way to his heart. She wasn’t sure what to do next.

So she did the next logical thing, "Spike...I’m sorry...I lo—"

Now he was speaking, "Don’t you DARE say you love me! I mean it Buffy..."

She put her hands defiantly on her hips, "I wasn’t going to say anything of the kind! IF you’d let me finish...I was going to say that I love it no matter where or how you got it! So there!"

Then she stuck out her tongue.

"Cheeky bint," he muttered.

"It’s why you love me," she added with a gracious smile.

Spike looked at her and returned the smile, then returned the box to her greedy hands. But not before he nipped at her sassy tongue.

* * * * * *

"You gonna open it, or what?"

Buffy sat staring at the box for a few minutes, contemplating what the contents of this

gift might be. Her fingers stroked the velvet casing and played with the bow that was

carefully tied around the middle.

Finally, her hands began to work the bow towards the end of the case. The time she took in opening the gift was excruciating for the impatient vampire, but he kept his peace and let her take as much time as she needed.

He nearly jumped a foot when he finally heard the latch spring open with a ‘pop’, followed by the gasp of shock and surprise as Buffy realized what he had gotten for her.

With utmost care, she removed the vial and stared at it unblinking. Her hands trembled while her gaze was drawn to the bright liquid bubbling inside.

"It’s..." Spike started.

"I know what it is. I can feel it’s power," she replied, sounding nearly out of breath.

"Shall I?" he questioned, unsure if she were apprehensive about trying this potent cocktail after all, or if the power emanating from it had overloaded her circuitry. He assumed the latter, due to the fact that she continued to stare blankly at the flashing bubbles.

Spike’s pale fingers closed over the vial and pulled it gently from her grip. If he hadn’t known any better, he could have sworn she moaned in protest as he did so. His thumb pressed softly between the lip of the vial and the cap that was corked in the center. The cap came off easily and clinked on the ground, then promptly dissolved into the crypt floor.

For a moment, he’d considered throwing the vial away after witnessing that little parlor trick, but he had to remind himself that this was a mystical potion and this was to be expected.

Buffy still sat gasping and staring at the vial that he held, but didn’t reach for it. Had it not been for her heaving chest, he would have thought she’d turned to stone. Her breath heated his free hand as it cupped her chin and pried her mouth open. Then tipping the vial towards her lips, he allowed the potion to spill into her mouth.

The potion pooled in her mouth as it gaped open and Spike quickly pushed her jaw up so that none of the contents would be lost. She still sat staring. Never swallowing.

What had he done?

Moving behind her, he gently laid her head in the crook of his arm. Tipping back, the liquid drained down her throat and she unconsciously swallowed the potion.

Suddenly, she snapped out of whatever had held her entranced and she looked around the room a bit panicked.

"Wh—what just happened?" she asked, voice trembling.

"You alright, luv?" Spike started, with a hint of concern.

"Huh? Yeah. I’m fine...what happened?"

"You don’t remember?"

Buffy sported her trademark bitchy glare, "I remember coming here. And I got a gift."

She fingered the silver chain that hung around her neck.

"...and then...then...I’m not sure."

Spike frowned. Here he’d gone through all the trouble of retrieving this vial—risked life and limb for it—and she wasn’t even going to remember it?

"The vial," he explained. "Your cure?"

Buffy squinted as if trying to recall something from years gone by. Then her eyes widened, "Yeah, I remember a little bit. I can taste it."

"Feel any different, pet?" he inquired, not having noticed any visible changes in her demeanor or state of mind.

"Not especially," she answered, shrugging her shoulders in defeat.

Bugger! All this for nothing? What the hell kind of game was that creepy warlock playing?

He tried to suppress his anger and focus his attention on Buffy, who looked as if she were about to cry.

Now was not the time for vengeance on creatures like that. He had all evening after the Slayer was tucked safely in bed. Then he’d have his fun. This warlock didn’t understand he was dealing with the Big Bad now and he would pay. Dearly.

• * * * * * * * * *

Her stomach churned a bit as the liquid settled into her stomach, causing a slight burning sensation. A twinge of nausea made her feel a bit like gagging, but she suppressed the urge by swallowing several times until the queasiness subsided. Then, nothing. Absolutely nothing happened at all.

Everything felt the same. The pain was just as alive as it had always been and she felt like crying. Tears stung her eyes as she fought the urge to break down in front of Spike. But she wouldn’t allow herself to turn into a whiny little girl in his presence. She was the Slayer and she had to be strong.

She overheard Spike muttering something under his breath about someone paying, but she didn’t bother to ask what he meant. He’d gone to the trouble of arranging a special evening for her and she was determined to trudge her way through it, whether she wanted to or not.

His protective arm slid around her and he whispered an apology in her ear. Sorry it didn’t work, for wasting her time, sorry for her pain, sorry for everything. It was comforting to feel him so near to her, telling her what she needed to hear, even though she didn’t believe a word of it. Just knowing he had made an effort for her happiness was enough to make it through this night.

They spent the evening just holding each other—Spike cradling her head in his arms, Buffy wrapping her arms around his torso. It felt like enough for him to just hold her with no pretense of sex. Just two people taking comfort in each other.

* * * * * * *

One of his hands broke free from the embrace and he began to stroke her hair away from her face. He combed his fingers tenderly through the golden mane as if it were fine silk. Each delicate strand was splayed side by side upon his lap until the smooth skin of her neck was exposed.

A finger traced down her jawline to the vein that pulsed along the length of her throat. Each thump of her heart slowed to match the rhythm of his tranquil caresses. Soon, her eyelids fluttered and shut as she entered a peaceful slumber.

Spike placed a loving, chaste kiss upon her flower-scented hair and she shifted beneath him at the touch of his lips. Slowly, he eased her off of his lap and settled her head upon the satin pillows. Then quietly he tiptoed across the room and retrieved a blanket to cover her with.

Draping the warm quilt over her, he moved to lay beside her, spooning her body against his. The torture was exquisite as her soft buttocks cushioned themselves against his burgeoning erection, causing him to groan slightly at the increasingly uncomfortable tightness of the unyielding denim.