Author: Jerri Cocke
Email: lochnoir@yahoo.com
Pairing: Spike/Willow
Rating: This part is NC-17 for mention of BDSM toys and lifestyle
Disclaimer: Joss owns all; I own none. I do try to clean them up before I return them, however.
Summary: Slayer, Spike, pissing contest, need I say more?
Feedback: It gives me a happy.
Dedication: To my wonderful beta Kari, without whom I would be so lost.
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Spike gleefully threw his assorted collection of black jeans, black tees, and red silk shirts into a box. If he'd had to, he would have kissed the great poof himself, just for the opportunity to be getting out of this house. It wasn't that he didn't love the Nibblet, but the Slayer was getting on his last nerve, and now that the bleedin' chip was gone, he get his own back. The only problem was if he did it, Platelet would be destroyed, and he could lay money on never getting a leg over with Willow again. Better to just suck it up, and move while the bint's back was turned than to risk getting into it with her. The price he would pay was to dear.
His thoughts ran back over the last few weeks, as he sealed boxes at a feverish pitch. Ever since the Slayer had discovered his and Will's little secret, she had been clingy, whiny and needy. Keeping his Will occupied with her every waking moment of the day. If, either he or his witch even looked at the basement door, she was johhny on the spot, needing Willow to do something right away, or if it was dark, she needed to patrol, and the Big, Bad just had to go. After all, she was just back from the dead, she needed watching something fierce. The blond vampire knew that sooner or later, he would walk down to the basement and find all their toys splintered or otherwise destroyed. Hell, he wouldn't put it past her to soak his leather floggers in holy water. If, of course, she managed to think about it.
Oh, well, that was why Willow had lured the silly bint out of the house for the day. So he could get everything packed away and into the hands of the movers before she could damage anything. Looked like he was done up here, time to move to the basement. He slunk through the house, avoiding the beams of sunlight. Slutty had been kind enough to leave random shades up throughout the house. He pulled on a pair of heavy leather gloves and wrapped one of his wool blankets firmly around him. Slutty dearest had opened all the blinds drenching the kitchen and his only path to the basement in sunlight.
"Bitch," he growled as he dashed to close the blinds without being incinerated. Finally it was safe, but the vampire took the precaution of placing the blanket and the gloves inside the basement door, just in case the Slayer got back early. He had no doubt she would love to trap him in the basement until Willow or Bite Size could rescue him.
He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door for the last time. Scenes from the past flashed through his mind as he carefully packed each whip, flogger and paddle away. The restraints and personal restriction items went carefully into a padded crate, chains coiled and secured to prevent them from rattling. He removed the hardware from the cross and the benches, carefully placing it in the plastic box then snugly packing that into a larger crate. The components of the furniture slid into their places, disguising their purpose. All too soon he was finished. Time to call the movers and get it to the new house. There was a wonderful room in the attic that would make a perfect dungeon, no windows and lovely timber beams to attach things to. 'Bonus', thought the blond. 'Three lovely doors, all equipped with deadbolts between his dungeon and the public parts of the house.' Since he planned to keep most of the doors locked for the sole purpose of keeping Buffy frustrated, it should be a while before she managed to figure out where it was.
He grinned as he remembered the fire in Red's eyes when she'd agreed to that one. His girl was every bit as frustrated as he was. They had managed one trip to their playroom since Buffy had found them out, and the damn slayer had come banging on the door. She'd seen a strange demon in Restfield, they had to check it out at once. It was a strange demon all right ... it was bloody Clem on his nightly hot wing run. He'd had to pick Red up off the floor. She laughed so hard that she'd fallen. Spike had threatened to use electrified nipple clamps on the Slayer's pointy ears and nose for that stunt. Red had just laughed harder, then she'd gone out while he was asleep and found the house of their dreams.
##
Willow examined the various dish patterns with a discerning eye. It had to be something she could live with and that Spike wouldn't destroy. After several silent minutes she picked up the box containing the black art nouveau dishes and settled it in the basket. She moved on to glasses, grateful she had the slayer to manhandle the stereotypically, demonically possessed cart. This one tried to go in all four directions at the same time. Only the Slayer was equipped to deal with it.
The redhead quickly chose clear goblets with black stems and bases and oversized black coffee mugs. After a moments thought, she grabbed a large navy mug with an upside-down smiley face on it, a large, ornate knife buried to the hilt between it's black slit eyes. She knew her Master would adore it, and that she would get the spanking she so desperately wanted.
Buffy burst into giggles when her friend put the mug into the cart.
"Fangboy is so gonna kill you for that." Suddenly she remembered the SECRET. "Will, are you sure you want to get that?"
"Yes, Buffy, I'm sure." The laughing witch wore a look of undisguised anticipation.
That cemented it. Buffy couldn't stop them from moving, she'd already tried that. There was only one thing left for her to do, she had to destroy the THINGS. That could at least keep 'him' from using them on her friend. When they went to the new house to let the delivery men in, she'd make sure the THINGS suffered a fatal accident.
"What's left on your list, Will?" she asked, anxious to get home and put her plans into motion.
The redhead looked at the filled cart and grinned. "Just some groceries and they have to wait until I have the refrigerator." She looked at her watch, "Which should be there in around an hour. We need to get moving."
##
Spike watched the burly movers load the last crate on the truck. Finally, it pulled away as he stood in the shadows of the porch. While his girl dealt with the delivery people, he would reassemble everything. As the truck pulled around the corner, a familiar black SUV pulled into the driveway.
Buffy jumped out of the passenger seat and headed for the house. She yelled, "Hey, Fang, Will says to move your butt. You're gonna be late for the deliveries."
Spike smirked and grabbed his ever-present blanket, heading for the SUV, while Buffy smirked and headed for the basement.