"Did you and the slayer have fun today?" Spike
asked, looking up as Willow came into the apartment carrying a couple of
bags.
"Uh, yeah," she said, slightly nervous due to
her sudden awareness of him.
"Did you buy me anything?" he asked, giving her
what he hoped was a friendly smile. Since he had realized that morning
that she was aroused, he hadn't been able to think of anything but finally
having her. It was taking what little control he possessed to not just
toss her on the bed and shag her like mad until she'd admit she wanted
him too. While he knew that would be foolish and risky, he had enjoyed
several detailed fantasies while waiting for her to return.
"Why would I have done?" she asked, giving him
a look. When he began to pout, she giggled, tossing him a bag, "There.
One of these days I'm going to surprise you and not bring you anything."
"Ah, luv, you shouldn't have," he said, grinning
as he pulled out a double CD of the Clash. He then pulled out a long sleeved
silk shirt that was a deep blue and he rolled his eyes, "You really shouldn't
have."
"You don't like it?" her face fell as she looked
at the shirt that seemed to her to be almost the same shade as his eyes.
She hadn't been able to resist it when she'd seen it at the department
store. Now, she realized she'd been stupid.
He glanced up, giving her a smile, "I like it,
Red. It's real nice."
"You hate it," she frowned, glaring at him. "
Excuse me for thinking you could use a little color in your wardrobe. Next
time, I'll stick to music or movies. Let me have it."
"I like the damn shirt," he said, growling when
she tried to snatch it away from him. "Willow, leave it."
"Don't lie to me, Spike. You don't like the shirt,"
she said, looking into his eyes. "It's fine. I'll take it back tomorrow.
No harm, no foul. I shouldn't have bought you clothing anyway."
"You're not going to let it go, are you?" he said,
finally relinquishing the shirt when he saw the stubborn look in her eyes.
Damn it. Trust him to speak without thinking. To ruin what could have been
a pleasant evening. "Fine. Take it back. I like the CD, pet."
"I was hoping you didn't have it," she said, holding
the shirt against her as she picked up her bags. Every time she and Buffy
went shopping, she always bought something for Spike. Usually without even
realizing it, she'd pick up a CD or something else that she thought he
might enjoy. Today, she'd let her overactive hormones buy this shirt. She
felt the silk against her arm and smiled slightly, deciding that she wouldn't
take it back. She'd keep it for herself. The color was so lovely.
Willow gave him a small smile and went into her
room. She kicked the door, not shutting it all the way. Switching on her
radio, she changed into more comfortable clothes, a pair of shorts and
an old T-shirt, before removing her purchases and putting them away. She
looked at the bottle of potion on her dresser, contemplating for a few
moments before deciding what the hell. She took a swig and put it back.
She hummed along with the music as she sat at her desk, turning on her
computer as she swayed in her chair.
"You hungry?" he asked, leaning in the doorway,
his blue eyes watching her with awareness. He glanced away from her, hardening
as he saw the blue shirt laying on her bed, the tags removed. She was going
to be sleeping in his shirt, he realized, groaning softly at the image.
"Hmm? No, Buffy and I had an early dinner," she
said, looking up to smile before turning back to her email.
"Things were fine around here, today. Thanks for
asking," he said in amusement after he managed to gain control of his arousal.
"I'm sorry," she turned her to chair to face him,
laughing softly. "How was your day?"
"Pretty boring," he said with a smile.
"You seem pretty happy to have had such a boring
day," she said, studying him. "Did something happen?"
"Yeah," he glanced at the floor, smiling sheepishly.
"What?" she asked, not liking the fact that he
was avoiding her eyes. That meant he was trying to conceal something from
her.
"I realized that I'm in love," he said, looking
back at her as the color drained from her face.